St. Mark the Evangelist Catholic Church :. Homilies

The good people of Matthew’s Gospel have a problem. Gentiles are infiltrating their communities with their strange ideas and ways that these loyal and faithful first followers of Christ have suffered to maintain. These converts do not want to keep the rules and respect the customs carried over from Judaism. They are like that weed: “Mustard” that spreads so invasively and uncontrollably into the neat and pristine wheat fields of those old farmers who fed that nation. The temptation to take matters into their own hands and clean things up is very great. With what can only be described as divine wisdom, Matthew reflects upon the words of Jesus in light of what happened to Jesus, and Matthew he says: “Wait just a minute. I don’t think this is how things are supposed to go.”  The Scribes and the Pharisees took matters into their own hands with that man from Nazareth who disrupted the Temple, cured on the Sabbath, touched lepers and other sick people, talked to Samaritans, ate and drank with tax collectors and known sinners! He had to go, so they killed him and cleaned things up. But God didn’t buy their judgment. What they thought was a weed was really the wheat God had sown to feed us, so it fell to the ground and died, but there sprang up a rich harvest. We gather in this church week after week, sinners and saints. It’s hard to tell the difference isn’t it? Sometimes we feel like one and the next week the other. Maybe we’re both. I hear confessions here, and I can’t tell the difference. A lot of the so-called “sinners” who come to pray with me I think are the real saints because of the faith and the hope they have in the face of their failures and their confidence in the prayer of the church. Some of the so-called “saints” who say all their prayers and never miss an “Amen” never do anything else either and never sincerely recognize their need to say: “Bless me Father, I have sinned.” So we can look around and admit that we might not know what is wheat and what is weed, who are sinners and who are saints. The honest among us know that they don’t even know that for sure about themselves. Sometimes we feel one way and act it, and then turn right around and feel and act the other way as well. The good news is, it is not time for the harvest, and as long as we can keep from taking charge and assuming that we know weed from wheat, we’ll have a chance here to get it right. The trouble is, times change, but they always remain the same. The good people of Matthew’s Gospel had a problem and so do we. The problem was not the weeds and the wheat, the problem they had and we have is a temptation to take charge and assume the power, the authority, or the right to clean things up, straighten up this place, this church, or this world. The temptation is always lurking there (that is the work of the evildoer) to judge and name the sinner, to refuse them a place in a community because their ideas or lifestyle or behavior or politics do not agree with what we expect. So then having been cut off, they are then denied the chance to grow, mature, or change. Where would any of us be if at some arbitrary moment in time someone looked at us, assumed the role of the judge and said: “I saw what you did. I heard what you said. Get out of here.” Matthew is saying to us again today: “Wait a minute. This is not how things are supposed to be.” My friends, failing to learn a lesson from the Scribes and Pharisees by repeating their behavior as we clean things up and straighten up this place runs the risk of destroying again God’s finest gift, and we might end up destroying ourselves. Hear again and listen carefully to those ancient words from the Book of Wisdom just proclaimed in this place: “leniency, clemency, and kindness” are the best we can hope for as sinners and saints. The book says: “Those who are just must be kind” which gives us all hope for our own repentance.

Lucy is at her office dispensing advice for a modest fee, and Charlie Brown walks up. Lucy says to him: “Physicians can learn a lot about a patient by asking what may even sound like a very simple question... which do you prefer, a sunrise or a sunset?” To which Charlie Brown says after a pause: “Well, a sunset, I guess!” Immediately Lucy responds: “I thought so! You're just the type ! I might have have known that! What a disappointment! People who prefer sunsets are dreamers! They always give up! They always look back instead of forward! I just might have known you weren't a sunrise person! Sunrisers are go-getters! They have ambition and drive! Give me a person who likes a sunrise every time! Yes, sir! I'm sorry Charlie Brown. If you prefer sunsets to sunrises, I can't take your case. You're hopeless!” At which Lucy leaves. Charlie Brown looks out at us and says: “Actually, I've always sort of preferred noon!” In your presence, Father John, there are certain traditions worthy of respect and repetition. What I want you all to know is that finding that quote was hard. I spent an unreasonable amount of time reading cartoons which is why some phone calls this week were slow in getting a response. I believe that the sunrise days are over, and we are nowhere near the sunset. The ambition and drive of the sunrisers brought us to this day. Now I believe it is the noontime for this community. The first planting has been done. God’s many gracious gifts described to us in last week’s liturgy are generously sown. It isn’t time for harvest; but the fruits of that harvest are already obvious. What has been sown is up and growing. Your leadership in this community and among the parishes of this Archdiocese is extra ordinary. You lead in generosity with Catholic Charities, with the Archdiocesan Development Fund, with Saint Vincent de Paul, in food and clothing and shelter for the poor. You care deeply and know children in Haiti to be our children because they are God’s. You lead with ministry to men and to women, with a school and religious formation programs that set the pace in central Oklahoma. You pray and worship with commitment and dignity. You respond to calls for help and for prayer, and you seek to grow in a deeper knowledge Jesus Christ in His Word and His Church, you are impatient with mediocrity and by your faith you draw people into the Covenant of this Table by great numbers year after year at Easter. Our children and our young people grow more attentive to God’s call, and already two are open to formation for a life time of service as priests. More will come. It is part of the harvest and fruit of faithful living. Some day there will be a harvest from all of this, and then only God will judge what is His suggests Matthew’s Gospel today. It is not our business to root around and judge today what will bear fruit and what will not: what is a weed and what is wheat. In this place and in this community from the very beginning the hospitality of the Kingdom of God has marked our identity. This parable insists that we must resist the temptation to assume the role of the divine judge. Our role as disciples is to nurture what the divine sower has so generously planted, and remember that we too are part of what has been planted here. We cultivate, water, prune, fertilize, and then we wait with confidence that the good work begun in us will be brought to a fruitful conclusion. In this time of waiting, we give thanks, and rejoice for the faith and hope we share as Stewards of these great gifts for the glory of God while at this altar we begin to savor just the first taste of the banquet promised us in the Kingdom to come.

Twentieth Anniversary - July 16, 2011 - Fr. Metzinger

Ordinary Time 15 - July 9, 2011 - Dcn. Jacobson

This Gospel speaks about burdens and rest, and it seems to me that there is a kind of paradox here, almost a contradiction. Jesus has been a hard on those who put burdens on others, and to those who are burdened, he speaks about rest, which by my opinion is something in short supply today. Too many people in our country bear a huge burdens making life easier for too many others. It is one thing to do so willingly. It is quite another to have the burden imposed upon you. On this weekend of “Independence” we might do well to wonder about the implications of that ideology, and grow more careful about how we think about “independence”. Personally, I think independence is an ideology a little at odds with the Gospel. Left un challenged, it implies that we are NOT “our brother’s keeper” which the Gospel clearly insists that we are. The only really independent people I know are dead. They don’t need anyone and they don’t need anything. That is independent. What the rest of us do does not affect them in the least. The truth is we are very dependent. What happens to the economy in Greece affects us, what we do with and charge for oil affects South America. When we burn food to fuel our cars, it affects the food costs in Africa. More simply, I need you as friends and companions. I need you to carry on the work of the church. I am dependent upon you, and I don’t feel any less because of it. I hope you need me. As the world shrinks because of media and economies, we are beginning to discover that we are very dependent upon one another. It may not seem very patriotic, but it’s real and it’s true; and efforts in these days to act independently or unilaterally are never productive. We must pay attention to the burdens we place upon others, especially upon the poor. We must be suspicious and watchful of programs and policies that continue to insulate, isolate, and protect the wealthy leaving the poor or the nearly poor to subsidize their comforts, security, retirement, and health care. The longer I live in this community, the more I wonder about this matter of rest. I don’t think you people do much of it. Too many in this community get no rest because they work two or three jobs, and those who do not get no rest because we are all caught up in being productive, being busy, and in doing things that are efficient. In fact, quite honestly, we worship efficiency. The pagan society in which we find ourselves suddenly is real, and the signs of it are everywhere. There was a time in history when this country could call itself a “Christian Country”. Whether or not that was or is a good thing is a separate matter for conversation. Nonetheless increasingly there are unmistakable signs that it is no long possible to claim that identity. The idol called: “Profit” now drives every decision and shapes every value. Jobs and lives are sacrificed at that idol’s altar every day. The Christian idea of “Sabbath” and within that concept, “rest” is looked upon as a silly old idea that doesn’t produce anything; and so stores are open 24/7 and people must work in them 24/7 or be unemployed. The consequence for both the shopper and the clerk is: no rest. Bill Gates, one of the great prophets of this post-christian era says that “In terms of time and allocation of resources, religion is not very efficient. We could do a lot more on Sunday morning rather than sit in a church.” The Communists who sacked churches and turned them into something useful thought the same way. Both are kindred spirits to the one who complained about Mary’s waste of resources by saying: Could not this ointment be sold for 300 denarii and given to the poor?” as she anointed the feet of Christ. We all know good and well it never would have gotten to the poor had her critics been in charge. Time itself is a gift. It was something created by God just as much as the sea and the stars. There are not just holy places on this earth, but there is holy time. Just as we set aside space and build up holy places, we must set aside some time as well. Israel built a Temple, and Israel observed the Sabbath. Wondering what might be our connection to this is important if you listen to and get deeper into this Gospel. We have the Old Testament concept of creation week and its Sabbath as the primal sign of the covenant. The Seventh Day becomes a hallowed space in time that marks off a place devoted to Israel’s relationship with God, just as the Temple becomes a hallowed space in space for the same purpose. If this is so for God’s chosen people, how is it not so for us? The point of the Sabbath is in earthly terms to waste time just as the point of the Temple or even our church is to waste space. I can remember when wheat was growing on the soil under this building. It was producing something then. Now it is in  a sense “out of production.” It stands here as a contradiction to the worship of production and efficiency. There is nothing efficient about what we do in here. Those of you who sit here looking at your watches because you have something else or better to do today simply don’t get it. Jesus Christ, Lord of the Sabbath proclaims himself today to be our “rest.” In Him and Through Him, and With Him, we find and we make and we experience rest. That’s what we are doing here, resting. The habit of celebrating sacred play time points to something else: the fact that vast amounts of time are spent waiting, and doing nothing while we wait. But the waiting is the point. It is what the church does, waiting in joyful hope for the coming of our Lord and Savior in glory. We gather here and set aside waiting time so that we might not be distracted or tempted, or led to believe that there is something better to do. I want you to think of this place as a giant “waiting room”. Here we wait in hope, not in fear like the rest of the world. We wait against all odds and common sense, in a world filled with economic doom, war, cultural meltdown, social chaos, terrorism, ecological fears, and all the rest, “we wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ.”

On the night before he died, Jesus lifted his eyes to heaven and prayed: “That they may be one even as we are one.” John 17,22 At the end of his mission and ministry, Jesus has gathered his most loved and trusted friends. He prays with them and over them. He promises them a share in his glory and the power of the Holy Spirit. His whole mission was about unity. He gathered to himself the lost, the sick, and the sinner. He challenged those who would push others aside and exclude them. Women and Samartins, Lepers and Tax Collectors, Sinners and Roman soldiers, all were included in the Kingdom he revealed. All that he said and all that he did had one purpose: to heal the brokennes of sin, restore the relationship between the creator and the created, and establish the same loving, life giving unity he experienced with his Father. And so in these days following Pentecost, the universal church, looking back upon it all, remembering all that he said and did, and rejoicing in what he did after Pentecost, we celebrate two great feasts that stand out as examples of that unity: Holy Trinity and Corpus Christi (Today: The Body and Blood of Christ). The power of the Holy Spirit as Luke described it in Acts of the Apostels three weeks back on Pentecost brought together people from all over the earth. Luke names them by tribe and nation. On that First Day of the week, not only was the promise to send the Holy Spirit kept, but the prayer of Jesus was answered in the experienced unity of all those gathered in Jerusalem. They all heard one voice - one language, one message, and suddenly their difference no longer mattered. They all heard and responded. In the two weeks since Pentecost then, we have been led by the church to reflect first on the unity within God; the Holy Trinity. Last week it was a “God-Focused” Unity in which we can explore the power of love to unite the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Now this week, the focus shifts to us, and to our unity: to the oneness we share because of the unity of Jesus and the Father by the power of the Spirit. The reminder, the symbol, the cause of that unity between us and with God is the Holy Eucharist. This Feast is about Unity: Communion. While it leads us to reflect upon the wonderful gift of the Christ’s Body and Blood, it takes us deeper into this mystery to reflect upon our Unity in Communion. For us Roman Catholics, then this sacrament with all it’s deveopment in our understanding through history is still about one thing: unity. This is the sacrament of our incorporation; the sacrament that takes us into, binds us together with, and unites with the Body/Corpus - the body of the Faithful us much as the Body of the Savior. This sacarament for us is about unity with the Chruch. It is not a reward for coming to church, it is not something you get, take, or for that matter, receive. It is what we become here, one in faith, one in Christ, one in covenant. This is why we do not share this sacrament with those who are not one with us in faith or in creed. It is no judgement or condemnation about them. It is an affirmation of what this is and who we are as one church bound together with all other churches who share with us one faith, creed, and tradition. It is why we do not receive this Communion when we are out of communion because of sin, or a life style that is inconsistent with what we share together in values and in faith. To break covenant is to be out of communion. Being anywhere else when this community gathers around an altar to proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes in glory breaks the covenant. What impoverised thinking is going on when someone walks down this aisle, accepts the Sacrament of Unity with us in Christ and then walks straight out the door? Where is the power of this Sacrament in the lives of people who walk down this aisle, accept the Sacrament of Unity, without ever taking up any responsibility or share in the ministry and work of this community? What is going on when people walk down this aisle and accept the the Sacrament of Unity who have not been here for three previous weeks nor anywhere else in universal communion for whatever flimsy excuse. The Eucharist we receive and enshrine is never simply a meal or an object of adoration, but a memorial of a life given for others and a summons to seek the kind of communion with God and others that Paul proclaims today. You can’t have one without the other in Eucharist. It binds us to God, and it binds us to oneanother as Church. The colorful and wonderful history of this feast began with great processions when the Eucharist was taken out of the church and carried throughout the whole town; taken to the places where people lived and worked as both a reminder that the presence of God is not confined to a church building, and a reminder that where ever people of faith living in communion are found, there also is found Christ the Lord. This is our day of unity, our day of communion, our day to remember who we are and what we seek to become through this Sacrament: the Body and Blood of Christ; His real presence in this world. The whole language about eating flesh is not about eating biological tissue. It is simply and directly the most in your face kind of language to help and make us understand that this is real presence “in the flesh” is one way we put it in English. Not a symbol, a sign, or just a memory. It is as real as flesh and blood; and so shall we be when we accept the invitation to be one.

The Most Holy Trinity - June 19, 2011 - Dcn. Jacobson

Hundreds of years ago, Saint Ambrose stood up in the ambo in the great Cathedral of Milan and said: “Remember that you have received ... the Spirit of wisdom and understanding, of counsel and strength, of knowledge and godliness, the spirit of holy fear. Preserve what you have received. God has sealed you; Christ the Lord has confirmed you and has given you the guarantee of the Spirit in your heart.” How I wish he were today to say it again. Perhaps the power, the dignity, the sanctity, and the influence of the man who baptized Saint Augustine could convince you of this truth. There is something terribly wrong in the experience of our faith and the living witness of our faith when these gifts go unnoticed, unused, and either forgotten or ignored. Ambrose says, “Remember that you have received...” Paul writes to the Corinthians affirming “that we were all given to drink of one Spirit.” Then the experience reported in Acts of the Apostles does not suggest that only the the people in that upper room possessed the Spirit. Everyone who heard them was filled with the Spirit is the suggestion Luke proposes. So, I am wondering what is it with us? The whole purpose and focus for the life of Jesus Christ was to give, send, and fill us with the same Spirit he shared with His Father. If we believe that, where is the evidence, and why are truly spirit-filled people so remarkable, exceptional, and rare? I am beginning to think that the root of this question lies in a serious misunderstanding of what is going on here today. A show of hands, which I will not request might prove my thought. Too many think that Pentecost is a celebration of an historical event. Too many people think that Pentecost is about the Holy Spirit coming upon the Apostles. Too many people think that Pentecost is the “birthday of the church”. Well, I would like to push you just a little further and a little deeper than those shallow ideas.   We have to become what we celebrate. We have to wake up, stir up, build up the Spirit we have been given. Throughout the ages of life in that Spirit there are certain signs of that Spirit which we have begun to call “gifts.” We have them. When are we going to start to use them and enjoy, or rejoice in the consequences of a Spirit lived life? John and Luke both put before us something to think about. Luke in his typical dramatic way has a big show: wind and fire. John in his more subtle way simply has Jesus breath on the disciples and speak of gifts he leaves us: peace and forgiveness. A Spirit filled people will be using these gifts, and the use of them will bring about more wonderful things and a more wonder-filled life than we could ever have imagined. But look at us. We don’t treasure wisdom. The wise among us are often looked down upon and ridiculed by this age. Wisdom rarely makes money. It does not sell stuff, and is rarely rewarded. If given the choice of being wise or clever, most people would, in their hearts, rather be clever and call it “being smart.” There are not many people in this world who are understanding. Now there are many who want to be understood, but they are not willing to realize that to be understood by another you first have to be understanding. It is a quality of compassion always found in the wise. This gift sometimes called “fear of the Lord” is really about respect. It’s in short supply in this age. A lot of people want it, but they don’t give it; and it’s not always about respect between people. There is something else deeper in this gift that has to do with respect for life and respect for this planet and all created things. Courage too is a gift not in great supply. While we may and should admire the courage of many who respond to the call of defense, their service might not be needed had some courage been exercised earlier on the part of decision makers in the face of  injustice. Courage is not always about power and might. The courage to speak up and stand up when something is wrong is sign of the Spirit. The courage to use one’s life to make a difference in the lives of others, to do something different, to dream of more than a fast car, big house, and big investments is in short supply. The Vocation crises in our church bears witness to the fact that this gift is going unused. The Strength that the Holy Spirit brings has nothing to do with the strength of the economy, how much you can lift, or how much influence you can throw around. It has to do with the ability to sway human hearts and persevere in times of trial. If Peace and Forgiveness are what the risen Christ breaths into us, where is it? How can it be that there is still after all these years since he did the breathing we are still at war, still find families and friends, tribes, races, and nations hostile and hateful? Does the gift of Forgiveness not work, or has it simply not been used? We might wonder about that. If this is truly the Birthday of the Church, then there are a lot of Birthday presents to be opened and enjoyed. I suspect our problem lies in the fact that we keep on waiting for something to come that has already been given, waiting for something to happen that we have failed to do ourselves. Since that “first day of the week” which is a code message for “the beginning” every generation has both the privilege and the responsibility to acknowledge and accept the gift of the Spirit so that the peace and forgiveness left by Jesus can be available to all. To celebrate this feast, we must be makers of peace and forgivers, wise, courageous, strong, respectful, and holy. We must become what we celebrate.

6th Sunday of Easter - May 29, 2011 - Dcn. Jacobson

I must admit to all of you that this chapter ten of John’s Gospel is a challenge for me. Not so because it is theologically complex, but rather because the images are such a challenge. The challenge comes from several sources, art, history, our present culture, changing times, and probably from each of our own unique life experienes. As a result of all these things and more, it is very difficult to get anything significant and profound out of this text unless you really work through it. It’s like trying to get ice cream when it’s been piled high with whiped cream, nuts and sprinkles. You know there’s something down there that can make a difference, but getting through the fluff on top gets discouraging.   Any of us can imagine countless paintings of shepherds sitting or standing in a beautiful green field with a light breeze blowing over the grass, and twenty or thirty fluffy white sheep listllessly grazing with contentment. Or that tall handsome man standing straight and perfectly groomed with a pretty white lamb draped over his shoulders. Ask anyone to recite a pslam: there are more than 150 of them, and they will start with “The Lord is my Shepherd” and go no further. Personally as a pastor, I have never identified with “Little Bo Peep” but that silly rhyme only adds to the difficulty of getting down to what is going on Chapter Ten. Having had the opportunity to observe sheep and their behavior, I have never been too comfortable with the suggestion that I should act like or feel like one. Sheep are not even in the upper half of intelligence in the animal kingdom.   While in study with these verses this week, one scholar pointed out that there are two very different reasons for having sheep and therefore two very different ways for tending them. One reason to have sheep is to have food. The flock is going to be killed and eaten. The shepherd in this context is not likely to have much of a relationship with the sheep. That would be too hard. Killing and consuming your pet would never work. That kind of shepherd pushes the sheep around, works from behind to herd them. The other reason for having sheep is for wool; and so keeping them alive and producing that wool for as long as possible is the whole idea. In this case, the shepherd is different and the relationship is important so that the sheep are comfortable in human hands. This kind of shepherd does not push or herd. This kind of shepherd leads from up front. This kind of shepherd goes first, both to show the sheep that there is nothing to fear, and make certain that there is no danger ahead.   There’s a wonderful little story about a shepherd who must lead the flock across a stream, and the flock gets the edge of the water and will not proceed no matter how the shepherd pushes and prods. Suddenly the Shepherd gets an the idea of picking up a very young lamb. He carries it across the stream, puts it down on the shore as it begins to bleat and cry. The mother hears her lamb and heads into the stream with the others behind.   Now hang on to that image for a moment and then think of it again throughout this week. There is another place in the John’s Gospel where Jesus declares himself to be the Good Shepherd. This is not it. This Gospel is not about Shepherds, it is about a gate.   In the night, in the fields, the sheep were brought into an area that could protect them. Low walls, perhaps some branble branches to keep out preditors. The gate was the shepherd himself. He could lie down across the entrance so that anything coming in or going out would have to pass over and awaken him. This is image Jesus assumes for himself in this passage of John’s Gospel. “I am the gate”. I am the passageway that protects those within and prohibits danger without. To open the gate of paradise, he lays down his life and takes it up again so that we may enter.   The whole image of gateway, of openings, doors and windows is powerful in the Gospels. Think for a minute of paradise as a garden closed because of sin, and remember how often Jesus opens things up in his life from closed up hearts and minds to closed up tombs like the one in Bethany. Think of how he struggled with the leaders of his time who only wanted to close doors and exlude the sick, the lame, the unclean, and how he wanted to open up everything to those outside. Remember how he passed though the door of a closed up room in Jerusalem after his death. Think of his side, opened on a cross to pour out blood and water.   If any painter ever really wanted to give us a look in reality at a real Shepherd, the figure would not be all cleaned up and apealing. He would be haggered, torn, bruised, sratched, dirty, and sweaty - all from doing dangerous battle with thieves and wolves, from lying on the ground and climbing around in the rocks. The best look at a real shepherd hangs above us on the wall of this church.   Now with that sense of opennes let the shepherd image settle in. This shepherd leads and passes on ahead of us through the gate of death so that we might follow through the same gate now opened for us into the saftey, joy, and life of the garden pasture where all is good, all is holy, and all is complete. This is the mystery John puts before us that we might stand back in awe and in wonder at what God’s plan has accomplished in Jesus Christ. In just a few moments, we will offer the ultimate prayer of thanksgiving in the very spirit of John’s image. We shall offer our thanks and give God glory THOUGH HIM, WITH HIM, and IN HIM. For the one who is the Gate, the who has opened the way to life, still goes before us, so that we might follow him without fear from death to life, from slavery to freedom, from danger to safety, from darkness to light.   In this place we are in the sheepfold. In this place we eat in safety. To this place the door is wide open to the sinner and the saved and together we shall say and sing amen as we pray and approach the Father Through Him With Him and In Him. Say AMEN!

They were going the wrong way! Leaving Jerusalem headed for Emmaus. The more often and the more deeply I reach into this episode of Luke’s Gospel, the more I am becoming aware of the fact that these two were on the run. They were getting out of town! Actually, I think Luke drops us into the middle of a big pitty-party. Those two were so sad, so disappointed, so discouraged. We understand that don’t we? Luke knew we would. We’ve all been there - that wasn’t the first nor the last pitty-party. “Oh how I had hoped for that promotion.” “I had hoped my children would grow up to be perfect in every way: beautiful, loving, generous, faithful, successful, rich, prosperous.” “I had hoped I would be the pastor of the pefect parish with people standing, coming an hour early to get seat, with no debt, no one leaving early, and four assistants to do everything so I could play golf.” “I had hoped I would get better grades.” “I had hoped that one I’ve been watching would just text me one time so I would know they see me.” “I had hoped we would win that game and be number one.” “I had hoped my marriage would be better than it is.” “I had hoped those tests would come out negative.” “I had hoped we would have had more time togther.” Silly or serious, deep or shallow, we know what’s going on with these two headed to Emmaus or getting out of Jerusalem.   What is Emmaus anyway, and where is it? You could walk seven miles out of Jerusalem, and you’re not going to come to the city limits of Emmaus. Maybe it isn’t a geographical place. Maybe it’s just that state of mind, or that hide-out, or that escape place that we run to when Jerusalem is too hard.   Maybe it’s the Mall, a long nap, a another hour in front of the TV, another three hours in front of a screen “surfing” the internet or chatting or texting just to avoid Jerusalem, just to run away, escape, deny, or pretent. All because Jerusalem is too hard.   I can’t even imagine how many people I have met in my 43 years as a priest who have left this church because it was too hard; how many have walked out of relationships because it was too demanding and asked too much sacrifice. I think of so many who have walked away from us because that had hoped this human community called church would be perfect, sinless, and without fault or blemish. Off to Emmaus they go. It’s like going to Las Vegas!   But this episode of Luke’s Gospel is not about them, and it’s not about Cleopas and a compaion without a name unless we are that companion.   There is nothing in Emmaus. Going there is the wrong direction. Sadness, self-pity, disappointment, discouragement are not going to go away in Emmaus. The fulfillment of all our hopes is not going to found in any Emmaus, nor is it going to be found as long as we are alone. Until we say to God: STAY WITH US. Until we remember what he asks of us, and then do it, we’re going to be pitiful.   What this story proposes to us is that Jerusalem is where we must go: not a place, but a reality, a memory, an experience. There is no running from sacrifice and service. There is no running from breaking bread and pouring wine. That detail of this story is about breaking our lives to share, pouring out our lives for the sake of others. When we live like that, life like Christ, we will turn around and head back to Jerusalem. What happened there can make sense, can give life, and can sustain every hope in the face of every disappointment.   I think the trouble with Cleopas and his companion whoever that is lies in confusing hoping and wishing. They “wished” for a mighty warrior king. They “wished” to be on the winning side and victorious in every way, and it didn’t turn out that way. But God in Jesus Christ has little interest in our wishes. On the other hand, our hopes when they are rooted in Jerusalem are God’s concern. That is what Peter speaks of in Jerusalem. The first president of the Czech Republic, Vaclav Havel offered these reflections on hope. Too bad Cleopas and his companion lived too soon to hear them. “Hope is a state of mind, not of the world....Either we have hope or don’t it is a dimension of the soul, an orientation of the spriit;...it is not the same thing as joy that things are going well...but rather an ability to work for something because it is good, not just bcause it stands a chance to succeed...Hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that soemthing makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.”   There is no hope in Emmaus or any of the hiding places we imagine. There is only hope in making sense of the cross, of a life lived in love, of compassion, forgiveness, of feeing the hungry, healing the sick, and comforting the grieving. There is hope in Jerusalem; hope in an upper room, hope in an assembly that gathers on the first day of the week to begin making sense of it all. How it turns out is in God’s hands. We know how it turned out for Jesus of Nazareth. Why would it be different for us?

“The first words from the Sacred Scriptures spoken earlier tonight in the darkness were: “In the beginning.” Beginnings are hard. Ask any business owner about their first year. I can tell you from my own exerience in preparing homilies that getting the beginning right and those first words on paper is always the hardest part. Beginnings are hard. What makes them hard is that you have to let go of what was, and for a brief time, there is nothing to take its place, and that is frightening. There is so much loss in every beginning: the loss of childhood to become an adult, the loss of college and all its adventure and friends to move on with a job, the loss of dependency to gain independancy, the loss of an uncommitted life to gain a partner and purpose, the loss of middle age to gain, one hopes, wisdom.   The Gospel tonight begins with these words: “After the sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning....” Think of those words in the context of beginning. The day of rest is over and must be left behind = “loss” now it is time for the work. It is the first day of the week. It is creation day - the “day of beginning.” It was dawn. Night is over the darkness is lost, but the day begins. Creation begins. Life begins. Light comes, and suddenly this night makes sense to us all, but never more so than to these neophytes, these newly baptized and confirmed. In just a few moments we shall wrap them into the arms of our savior, feed them with the bread of life, incorporate them into the mystery of the church.   My brothers and sisters brought into the Body of Christ this night, you have been brought from darkness into light. Like the Israelites, you have followed that pillar of fire into this holy place, God’s dwelling among us. This is a night of beginnings for you, and your first ministry as disciples of Jesus Christ has been fulfilled by your willingness to listen to God’s call and respond. Your very courageous presence here through the Rites of Initiation has been a work of evangelization. You are spreading the faitih. Standing before us week after week since Ash Wednesday, you have reminded us that we are all beginners, converts, leaving behind old ways, old sin, old thinking, old behavior, and we are being lifted up from the dust of the earth by a Creator God who has called us His own in a mysterious and wonderful new creation.   There is no going back. The Israelites had spells when they lost courage and gave up hope. They complained and imagined that slavery in Egypt was easier than life in a desert. They whined and longed for the past; but after crossing the Sea witih Moses, there was no going back. They kept going to the end. Instead of a miserable end as slaves of Egyptians their lives had a better and new ending. Slaves no more, they were free, they were faithful, they were holy, they were God’s chosen.   Someone very wise in the ways of this world once said: Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.   The mystery and wonder of this night is then about a new ending that starts today. Creation Day, the First Day of the Week. At dawn. Imagine that ending. Imagine what God has planned and promised. If you can and if you will, the ending will be one of glory, of peace, and of joy that knows no end.   This is what we wish for you, my dear newly baptized and confirmed. Come now to receive the food for your journey, the Bread of Life and the Cup of Salvation. It promises a new ending you could never have imagined before you stepped into this church months ago. Who would ever have thought that you would be here robed in white? Who could ever have imagined what God has in store for you? Yet because you are here, robed in white, anointed with fragrant oil, there is a new ending for you full of promise and full of peace. This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad.    

Exodus 12: 1-8,11-14 + Psalm 116 + 1 Corinthians 11: 23-26 + John 13: 1-15 A powerful deed of love is set against a dreadful deed of betrayal.There is something horrible about being betrayed by one who has shared the food of the table. John’s description is simple and direct. At the very moment Jesus extends his love and friendship to Judas, Satan takes over his heart. Judas does not leave until after the washing of his feet. Notice that point.It is one who has received the food of that table;one who has been loved, washed, served, and saved that betrays.This is the great sadness and tragedy in this story.It is not an enemy.It is not someone who is threatened by the teachings of this “just man.”It is not some foreignor or angry terrorist who commits this deed.It is one who is loved; who was privileged to see what others had not seen;who was a blessed companion of the Son of Man. Evil is alive and active in the most intimate relationships.John sets before us tonight a pair of realities:the foot washing on one hand and the betrayal on the other.They capture the meaning of Jesus: divine love expressed concretely and vividlyanswered by the reality of human evil. In the face of it, the other disciples remain totally naive,and so there is yet a second tragic sadness.They don’t get it, and so they do nothing to stop it.Their failure to grasp the reality of divine love in Jesus,the truth of a humble God who would serve rather than be servedcalling them to imitate that divine loving service is just beyond them. It is a twisted tragedy that continues to be lived and suffered in every generation.Children who grow up in loving homes betray, abandon, and refuse the faith and tradition of parents who have clothed, fed, nursed, washed, and given them life itself in suffering and pain. They simply walk away from the beliefs and customs most treasured by their parents like the child of the prodigal father.It is always those who are close who hurt us the most.And so it is with God. This is the story of this night.We have taken from this table what has been given to us,while remaining naive about what it means and what happens to us here.The greatest sadness of sin is that chosen, holy, and believing people remain sinful.The tragedy here is that a broken divided people remain sowhile sharing in the very food that should make us one.The shame is that we take for granted and then only when convenientthis gift of life, peace, and reconciliation. This is a night to ponder an ironic reality.We began in joyful song with bells ringing,and we conclude in a different mood cast by the reality of love betrayed.We came in here talking and laughing, full of smiles and good cheer.We will leave in a different way: in silence and recollection about what is to come.As we reach out our hand to receive a “morsel” we must face and acknowledge the power of evil within us all - within the chosen, loved disciples. We must rise above the ignorance and naivete that excuses our failure to grasp, to live, and to preserve what we have been given.We must rise above the complacency that ever allows us to take this gift of love in sacrament for granted; walking up these aisles as though we were approaching the checkout at the grocery, reaching and grabbing, quick to leave for something more important.We must rise above the laziness and ingratitude that ever allows us to think of missing one opporunity, one Sunday, one Holy Day when we might let the Lord come under our roof to speak the word of healing and peace. We are Judas and we are Peter.We are sinful and naive.We can do something about naivete and its consequences.God can do something about sin and its conseqences.The next two days will resolve what happens when love is betrayed by a loved one.The rest of our lives will reveal what happens when the glory of truth removes the shallow and empty ignorance and naivete that keeps us from becoming what we were made to be and remembering what a price was paid by God for us all.When that day comes, we’ll all be on the floor with a towel and water.

Isaiah 50: 4-7  + Psalm 22 + Philippians 2: 6-11 + Matthew 26: 14-27,66   The Passion Story has a great cast of characters, and each of them have their own motives for their behavior. The truth is, none of them are really “bad people.” If we lift them out of this story and our own prejudice, there are many interesting things about them.   Think of them for a moment. The Pharisees were austere religious men who devoted all their energy to doing good and the study of God’s Law. The problem with such people is that they are so convinced of their position and opinions that they are capable of terrible evil. Paul before his conversion is a perfect example: he murders Christians. Crusades and the Inquisition are other examples, and presently the torture of terrorist suspects is usually carried out by dedicated people who are devoted to their cause.   Then there was Caiphas. He was a man probably thinking about religious orthodoxy anxious over people who were led astry by false messiahs. History remembers that he was not unique when you think about people being burned at the stake by others convinced that they were doing a service to God. It goes on today in more subtle ways of silencing and ruining the reputation of others who do not seem to be quite orthodox.   And then Pilate stands there thinking about preserving law and order at a time of great unrest. He knew Jesus was innocent, but feared that trouble would erupt if he did not give the religious leaders what they wanted. There is no doubt that he had every reason to worry about his job. Most people know what is right, but they do not often have the courage to do it. Pilate is not unique. World leaders everywhere from Washington D.C. to the State Capital on 23rd Street is crowded with people who know what is right, but lack courage and worry about keeping their job.   Judas was probably a very disillusioned man. I go easy on Judas, and I suspect that he simply took matters into his own hands getting impatient for the coming of the Kingdom, thinking that if Jesus got backed into a corner his real identity as Messiah would emerge and crush his enemies. At the same time, he came to recognize and condemned the evil he had done. Plenty of people these days seem to have no such problem. Think of Executioners, abortionists, and terrorists. At times we all betray our ideals, if not our friends.   Then there is Peter: a man who was simply weak and cowardly. Anyone one of us would have done what he did in the same circumstanes. At least he shed tears over it. Too many of us never do.   Soldiers are there simly carrying out orders. How often we have heard in history: “I was only doing what I was told to do.” “Just carrying out orders.” We love to blame others for our sins and our actions without any responsibility for our actions. Blame. It’s big these days.   Finally there is the crowd on a highly emotional situation. They probably had no idea what was happening. “Everybody’s doing it.” is the excuse!  And with that excuse, untold evil continues to wrap itself around this world. It’s the story of a culture where the bully wins.   Dark evil sleeps in all of us who could take any role in this Passion Story and make it our own.   The tragedy here is very simple, and the tragedy here continues. This is not history, this is our story. The tragedy is that no one did anything. From the good Pharisees to the crowd; from Pilate to Apostles, no one did a thing to stop it. They all stood back excusing themselves for feeling helpless and thinking: “What could I do about this? I’m just one person.” “I have to think about my job and my family. “What can I do about this, we have to have law and order, protection and safety.” How can I do anything against the power of Pilate or the Pharisees? “It’s not my problem. I’m just doing my job, doing what I was told to do.” We have to wonder about that today: wonder about why we do nothing in the face of evil, why we do nothing when we can see what’s going on all around us.   The tragedy is not just that Jesus died, but that Jesus died alone with no one making any serious effort to stop it.

Lent 5 - April 10, 2011 - Dcn. Jacobson