Saturday, April 21, 2007

3rd Sunday of Easter

Most of us like to think we’re pretty smart. We’ve been around. We know what’s going on. But the fact is that compared to God, we’re pretty clueless. For generations God tried to communicate with His people. He sent prophet after prophet. But, in the end, the prophets were at a loss to deliver God’s message so that people could understand it.

Finally, He sent his Only Son to deliver the message. Jesus was more successful than the prophets had been, but it wasn’t because we suddenly got smarter. Jesus had the advantage of being able to perform miracles. He healed the sick. He raised the dead. For His grand finale, He raised Himself from the dead. Even so, all these centuries later, people still don’t believe.

The Gospel readings in these days after Easter show just how hard it is for us to understand God’s message. Even Jesus’ followers who were there didn’t really understand the resurrection. They were confused. The women who found the tomb empty didn’t understand. “They have taken the Lord from the tomb,
and we don’t know where they put him,” they said. Jesus appeared to Mary Magdalene, but she didn’t recognize Him.

The disciples on the road to Ameus didn’t recognize Him. The Apostles in today’s Gospel didn’t recognize Him. From the very beginning, we’ve been confused. And we still are.

[pause]

After the unpleasant weather we’ve been having, Monday morning was beautiful. It was the kind of morning we’ve been waiting for. It would be the beginning of a beautiful day. But at some point you turned on the television or the radio and heard the terrible news. Thirty-two promising young lives had been snuffed out by one disturbed individual with a gun. Suddenly it wasn’t such a beautiful day after all.

It would take a while for the picture to develop. Who was the killer? Were there more than one? How many died? How many were hurt? Of course there was the usual question, “who can we blame?” Once again we’re confused. Like the women at the empty tomb, we may have asked “Where’s Jesus?” Surely He wasn’t on that campus Monday morning or this terrible thing couldn’t have happened.

Like the early disciples, we don’t always recognize Jesus when we see Him. There is plenty of evil in the world. We know that. No one ever promised us that there wouldn’t be. In fact, the scriptures make it pretty clear that we can expect evil, no matter what we do. God doesn’t cause evil. Jesus doesn’t cause evil. Evil men do evil things. Satan is alive and well and working his ways in our lives every day. Because God gave all of us free will, there will always be evil.

So, if Jesus doesn’t prevent evil, where was He on Monday morning? Well, he was there comforting the wounded. He was there giving courage to the students and faculty who performed heroic acts. He was with the police and the paramedics. He was in the hospital where the wounded were taken. He was with the students and family members as they waited for word on their friends and family.

Jesus was there on Friday when millions of Americans joined with the Virginia Tech family to mourn their loss. He’ll be with the survivors as they try to make sense of this terrible tragedy and as they try to get on with their lives. He’s in hundreds of churches all over the country, comforting all of us as we try to deal with this and other senseless tragedies. He’s here today, in this Church. But after all these centuries, we’re no better at seeing Him today than our ancestors were 2,000 years ago, even though He left us the Holy Spirit to be our advocate.

This is really the season of the Holy Spirit. During the Easter Vigil and during the season of Easter, we welcome new members to the Church. We confirm our young people. Our PSR students celebrated first communion last Sunday and our eighth graders will be confirmed next Saturday at the Cathedral. These sacraments will be celebrated at churches all over the world during the next few weeks.

[pause]

We can see the Spirit at work in today’s first reading. Good old
St. Peter. You have to love Peter. He was always making mistakes and saying the wrong thing. Yet our Lord picked him to be the first leader of His new Church; the first Pope.

On the night before Jesus was crucified Peter was so afraid that he actually denied that he knew Jesus; not once but three times, just as our Lord had predicted. His first day on the job, he went and hid.

But let’s not be too hard on Peter and the others. Imagine what that night when they took Jesus away must have been like. The eleven Apostles really didn’t understand what was going on. All they knew was that Roman soldiers had come and taken Jesus. He was their leader, their friend, their Messiah. What were they going to do with him? Were they going to kill him? Would they be next? Because we’re only human, I doubt that any of us would have acted any differently.

But Jesus rose from the dead and left Peter and the others the gift of the Holy Spirit. What a difference! Now he’s threatened with jail or worse if he doesn’t stop preaching in Jesus’ name and what does he do? He defies the priests. He says, “sorry Charlie. There’s no way that I can’t preach what I’ve seen.” What happens? He and John, protected by the paraclete, the Holy Spirit, are allowed to walk away. Of course we know that eventually they were martyred for preaching the Gospel. Theirs was a dangerous job and they knew it. But the Spirit gave them courage that they never had before.

Through the centuries, Christians’ enthusiasm, even their bravery has been tested many times. It seems to run in cycles. Sometimes it’s been OK, even fashionable to be a Christian. In many times and places Catholicism has been the official religion. Other times it’s been discouraged or even illegal, for example in Ireland when it was under British control or in many countries today. When we think of martyrs, we tend to think of ancient times. But there were more Christian martyrs in the twentieth century than there were in the first nineteen combined. There’s no reason to think that this century will be any different.

We like to think that we live in a land of religious freedom, but those freedoms are being tested today, more than at any time in our history. Just this past week, a TV talk show host announced on national television that Catholics shouldn’t be allowed to be Supreme Court Justices. Can you imagine what would happen if this person made that same comment about African Americans, or gays, or Muslims, or any other group?

I know you can’t see it in the back but this is an editorial cartoon that ran this week in the Philadelphia Enquirer. It shows the nine Supreme Court Justices sitting on the bench. Five of them, obviously the five Catholics, are wearing Bishop’s mitres. At the bottom of the picture is the caption “Church & State.”

Of course both of these incidents were responses to the Court’s ruling that the law banning partial birth abortions is legal under the Constitution. This is a position that the Church supports, but it’s hardly a “Catholic position.” Right-thinking people of every religious persuasion, even atheists, agree that this is a barbaric, and unnecessary, procedure There’s just no justification for it. But it makes a convenient excuse for anti-Catholic bigots to attack the Church.

[pause]

As we continue through the Easter Season, this “season of the Holy Spirit”, let’s pray that He gives us the same courage that changed St. Peter from one who denied the Lord three times when He was in His greatest distress to the brave first Pope who was willing to risk prison, and even death rather than refrain from preaching the Gospel. That He gives us the courage to speak out against injustice, whether it’s directed at our Church or directed at our brothers and sisters in need. That He gives us the will to be united in our belief in God and in His Church, a Church where human beings make mistakes but where the sacred teachings are inspired by an infallible God.

Finally, let’s pray for the victims of hate and injustice, especially the young people who died as a result of the violence in Virginia last week.

Friday, April 20, 2007

The Last Acceptable Prejudice

Today on "The View" Rosie O'Donnell declared that membership in the Roman Catholic church disqualifies one for service on the US Supreme Court ("because of separation of church and state"). Her bizarre ultra-left-wing rantings have become an embarrassment to herself, to ABC TV, and to the Disney Corporation. How long she's allowed to continue remains to be seen.

But, and this is crucial, her attack on Catholicism, and Christianity in general, won't be the cause of her downfall. See, in the United States of America, in the year of our Lord 2007, it's perfectly alright to attack the Catholic Church. Had O'Donnell's comments been directed toward gays, or African-Americans, or Muslims, or any number of other groups, the cries for her firing would be burning up the airwaves and cyberspace. Given some of the comments of the last few days, it seems that even college student/mass murders must be given a certain amount of respect. But Holy Mother Church is fair game.

How long are we going to put up with it? What does it take to make Catholics mad enough to stand up? Enough is enough.

The following editorial "cartoon" appeared in the Philadelphia Enquirer. It looks like Cardinal Rigali has his hands full.


Kids

You know, God doesn't give you children. He just lends them to you so you can raise them. Unfortunately, by the time that realization hits you, the best years may already be gone. See, they WILL break your hear. They will. They're going to grow up.

You always knew it would happen. You just didn't realize it would be so damned soon. One day they're running around the house, making too much noise and too much mess. The next day, they're packing their stuff into boxes and moving out. To add insult to injury, you'll probably have to help them pack and then help them move. Then you come back home and there's a gigantic hole in your house and in your heart.

It's always been part of the deal. You knew that. You raise them, and if you do it right, they'll grow up and move on. They leave the nest. If they never left you'd be a terrible failure as a parent. You'd have to be stupid not to know it was going to happen. After all, you left home. You did it with all the excitement of starting off on any new adventure. You made it. You were a grown up. And you never quite understood why mom or dad or mom and dad couldn't quite look you in the eye. Why were they so quiet? Why weren't they as excited as you were? It was strange but you didn't have time to worry about it because you were on your way.

When your own kids make the big move you're proud of them. But there's a little secret part of you that thinks they might come back. You want them to succeed, but you'll welcome them back in a heart beat if things don't work out. If they can't quite afford that apartment, or if they don't like their new roommate, they're always welcome to come back. Secretly you hope that they do..

Then one day they tell you that they have great news. They're in love. They're getting married. Suddenly you're hit with a flood of emotions. You're happy for them. You're excited. You start planning for the wedding. Then it hits you. It may be late at night when you can't sleep, or it may come out of the blue in the middle of the day. Married??? That means they're never coming back. This is it. They're fully grown and the ties are going to be cut. You tell yourself that nothing will change, but in your heart you know it will.

Your son or daughter is starting a family of their own. It's the circle of life. It's been happening to every generation since Adam and Eve. You're an idiot if you didn't expect it would happen to you. Why this sudden, overwhelming sadness? Could it be that you realize you're getting old? You're not that twenty-something or thirty-something chasing a two-year-old around the yard anymore. Instead of checking the business section of the paper to see which of your friends has gotten a promotion, you're checking the obituaries to see if any of them has died and hoping you don't see your own name. You used to make fun of the Viagra commercials. Suddenly you're paying a little more attention, thinking, "maybe I should talk to my doctor."

The song "Sunrise, Sunset" used to make me cry when I heard it. Now I cry when I just think about it. One by one they grow up and go up and each one takes part of your heart with them and you wonder if you can spare any more. You'd think it would get easier with each kid but it doesn't. It gets harder.

My head tells me that we've done our job. It's time for them to start their own families and it's time for us to slow down and relax and do the things we've put off. That's what my head says. My heart says something entirely different. My heart wants to yell "Stop! Don't go! Don't do it! There are still things that we haven't done together. I want to make up for all those times when I was at work when I should have been taking you to the park or to a ball game, or just sitting with you on the back steps."

You realize that you didn't hug them nearly enough or tell them you love them nearly enough. Remember those ball games, and school plays, and dance recitals you used to complain about? You'd give anything to go to just one more; to say "That's my little girl" or "That's my little boy." But those days are gone forever. Twenty years, thirty years, gone in a flash. Why didn't somebody tell me it would be over so soon?

But you can't back. You can only go forward. And the future will be great. It will be different, but it will be great. But, God it hurts sometimes.