Saint Peter the Apostle Parish Naples, FL  May 24, 2015

Acts 2, 1-11   Psalm 104   1 Corinthians 12, 3-7, 12-13   John 20, 19-23 

There are two versions of the Spirit’s coming in the Gospels, Luke’s and John’s. We heard Luke’s with the first reading, and John’s with the Gospel. I don’t know about you, but I much prefer the second version from John’s Gospel. That wind and fire stuff is too disturbing and confusing. It distracts me. I would rather be breathed on than face a hurricane or tornado. We are never going to know what actually happened in that fear filled room with doors closed and locked, but here we are again in that room today in both versions. The friends of Jesus are afraid. Fear is all they feel now, a fear so strong that the meaning of his death and the news of his resurrection means nothing to them.

Perhaps what really matters in the details of the Spirit’s coming is the consequence of what happened in that room rather than any of the details from John or Luke. Whatever it was, breathing or an indoor firestorm, something changed, and fear is gone. Whatever it was, something new is happening, but newness is always challenged by fear because we always feel more secure if we have everything under our control and plan our lives with our own ideas and preferences. It is the same when it comes to God. We follow and accept God’s plan but only up to a certain point. We are afraid that God will force us to strike out on a new path leaving our narrow, closed and selfish horizons in order to become open to God’s plan. Yet the history of salvation tells us that whenever God reveals himself, there is newness and change demanding complete trust. Noah, mocked by all, builds an ark and is saved. Abram leaves his land with only a promise in hand. Moses stands up to the might of Pharaoh and leads people to freedom. The apostles break out of that room with courage and a message. When the Spirit of God is present, there is something new, and fear will not do. People who live by the Spirit cannot be afraid of anything new, and they know that there will be surprises when God is near. They are not afraid because they know that God loves and desires only our good.

In fear, we like things to be uniform and predictable. We want standardization and feel better when we are surrounded by people like ourselves which closes us up and makes us different from others. Division is the consequence. But Spirit filled people find no threat in the fact that different people have different gifts; and for them diversity is a source of great wealth, because the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of a Unity that is harmony not uniformity. When the Spirit of God is present there is always harmony. When we let the Spirit guide us richness, variety and diversity never become a source of conflict because the Spirit leads us to communion.

After Pentecost we never hear again about closed and locked doors, because these people are not afraid. Something new, or a change from what has always been does not frighten them or threaten them. The early church, led by the Spirit, had to work hard at unity with the diversity that the mission of Paul and others like him brought into the church, but the Spirit led that church just as it leads our church and this church in Naples to find strength in diversity, joy in hospitality, and wisdom in learning from others different from ourselves.

The events that took place in Jerusalem almost two thousand years ago are not something far removed from us; they are events which affect us and are a lived experience in each of us. Without that Spirit we tend to stay closed in ourselves, on our own group, preferring to surround ourselves with people who look like us, talk like us, and think like us. If the Apostles had given in to that kind of safety, we would not be here today. When we say: “Come Holy Spirit”, we are opening our hearts and minds to endless possibilities for the future, and countless surprises as the Will of God becomes our own will.

Our prayer in this liturgy today is the great prayer which the Church in union with Jesus lifted up the Father asks to be renewed by the Holy Spirit. We pray and sing within the harmony of the Church with every group, every movement, every culture, and every tongue; and in union with Mary, mother of the church, we cry out: “Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful, and kindle in the fire of your love! Amen.

Saint Peter the Apostle Parish Naples, FL

Acts 1, 1-11   Psalm 47   Ephesians 1, 17-23   Mark 16,15-20

In my sophomore year of high school, I had Brother Rosaire for Biology. In those days, the Holy Cross Brothers wore black cassocks tied around the waist with a black rope. One day brother walked in to the class room and reached both hands into the deep pockets of his cassock and lifted two live snakes. The brothers rarely had trouble with classroom discipline. The ones I had all had a way of commanding attention and respect. You did not talk to anyone in their class room unless told to do so. Let me tell you, when he pulled out those snakes no one moved and no one talked. Everything in that school was ordered by the alphabet. We sat in desks according to the alphabet. Role was called by name in every class, and an empty desk told you immediately who was missing. With my last name, I was always in the third desk nearest the windows right behind Amsted and Bachold with Cancilla, Cleary, and Coors behind me. Brother Rosaire walked toward Amsted. He put a snake on Tom’s desk and said, “Pick it up and pass it back.” I thought I was going to die until I looked at Bachold’s face as he turned and handed me the poor snake. Bachold was way past death. To this day when I read these verses of Mark’s Gospel the thought strikes me that if you have to handle snakes to be a priest, I’ll sign up for engineering. If these are the signs that accompany those who believe, I’m in trouble. I’m not all that great with languages either. Fortunately, I later learned in the seminary class on Mark’s Gospel that these verses were written long after Mark had died, and these specific “signs” were all lifted from incidents in Acts of the Apostles as proof that the followers of Christ were meeting with success in their mission.

This leaves us today sitting in this church reviewing the very last words Jesus speaks to his followers on this earth; words of instruction and commission. We have, all of us, been sitting in churches for a long time, and it strikes me that this is not what Christ asked us to do. While we proclaim the Good News in here, we are not necessarily the ones who need to hear it. What we proclaim in here to each other is a reminder, a review, and clarifying moment when we get together to get it straight and make sure we are all on target. We will leave here within the hour, and then the real proclamation begins.

As the Gospel concludes, it says: “They went forth and preached everywhere, while the Lord worked with them and confirmed the word through accompanying signs.” The signs then are important, and they guide and focus our mission. The signs continue today.

We are to cast out devils. We stand up against the force of evil that destroys life. Remember that one of the ways in which demons did their damage was by forcing people out of community, breaking their relationships with others, rendering them untouchable. A 21^st century Christian who casts out demons recognizes demons disguised as addictions that possess us not just alcohol, drugs, and sex, but shopping and buying things we do not need. There are demons of regret, resentment, and unforgiven offences. When Jesus lives in us, the hold of these demons is lessened. A sign of demons expelled is a community in which all lives becomes richer, deeper and more real.

We are to speak new tongues. We must communicate with others in a new way. In a hostile angry world of violence and oppression, we must speak kindly and gently words that bring peace and harmony. We must speak the language of love in a world that speaks a language of hate. How to do this in a multi cultural world is a challenge we can take up. Yet how to do this with people who Tweet and Blog while living to update their Facebook status never dreaming of missing the latest episode of American Idol with no interest in our Sunday morning shindig means we learn to speak new tongues. Living in Christ we must work like crazy to figure this one out always speaking kindly and joyfully.

There are many things that poison our lives, but they do not harm us. The poison of gossip is deadly and bitter. The poison of angry words and resentment can be fatal, but living in Christ is an antidote to all these poisons. We can handle snakes too – those people who might bite us with their anger and malice do no real harm.

Impressive as these signs might be, perhaps the greatest of all signs today confirming the gospel message given to us by Jesus at his ascension is simply this: that after so much failure by Christians in history, and by the Church’s leaders and members in our own day; after so many frustrations, so many betrayals, so many scandals and defeats in the struggle to fulfill Christ’s missionary command — nevertheless, after twenty centuries, so many, all over the world like us, are still here being faithful to the Word of God.

Go into all the world and proclaim the good news to the whole creation, says Jesus, and these signs will accompany those who believe. One theme runs through these signs of Jesus’ life in the new community he shaped when I hear these words. They are all about healing and wholeness. They are all about the freedom that comes when your life is centered, not around yourself, but around sharing the healing power of God in Jesus Christ. They are about both individual healing and the healing of relationships: making us stronger, more whole, both in ourselves and for one another. Healing not only our own hurts, but those things that keep us isolated from a hurting world. It all begins in these pews, but it all happens in the rest of the week. If we do what Christ asks, we will need to come back next week if for no other reason than to be refreshed and encouraged again by the Christ who has not left us.

Saint Peter the Apostle Parish Naples, FL

Acts 10, 25-26, 34-35, 44-48 + Psalm 98 + 1 John 4, 7-10 + John 15, 9-17

 There are four words that emerge from this text that when spoken to us ought to stop us cold in our tracks and bring about the most profound change in our sense of who we are and our behavior. Yet my bet is that most of you do not know what those four words are because we have the a habit of listening to the Word of God and hearing the things Jesus says from outside as a spectator or like someone who is listening in. The consequences of taking that position in regards to the Word of God are devastating. Perhaps the condition of our world today not just with regard to violence but also with regard to the hopeless poverty that leads to so much violence comes from not knowing, believing and understanding those four words. For the Word of God to be effective, to be alive, and to have its saving effect there must be a personal relationship, and upon that relationship rests the power of the Word. When that relationship is realized, something happens, and none of us are spectators in the saving plan of God any longer.

Today we are still in that upper room, and it is still the night before Jesus Christ was betrayed, handed over, and abandoned by his so-called friends. He has spoken to them and their relationship in terms of sheep and shepherd; in terms of vine and branches. Now he speaks in terms of friendship and love inviting them to discover and share what he shares with his Father. They don’t get it yet, because they have not yet recognized their need for it. They think their friendship with Jesus is all about what he can do for them, and how he will restore the power and prestige of the Jewish people. They are impressed by the healing, the feeding, the promise, and the opportunity being his friend offers them, and so they have chosen to follow him. So they think until they see where that will lead and what it will mean. Then they are out of there! So much for their choices.

Not until they have disgraced themselves, doubted, hidden, and run will they begin to hear and understand those four words that will transform them, empower them, and make something of them other than simple ordinary fishermen, tax collectors, and sinners. He has spoken of this before, but they did not yet understand. He spoke in parables about guest invited to banquets, he found them mending nets, collecting taxes, sitting under shade trees, drawing water from wells, sitting in synagogues, and his first message to them is summed up simply in four words. He speaks in this church today to a people who are often here to get something, to ask for something, or to fulfill what is commanded by the law. He speaks to sinners, cheaters, and liars, to those too busy to give more than an hour or some extra change, and to people who have excuses galore for not conforming to the word and the life he offers. To us all he says again those four words.

I have chosen you. Proclaimed in this church within this liturgy, these are not words spoken to the twelve apostles a long time ago. They were once, but if that was all there was to it, there would be no point in repeating or remembering them. These words were not spoke to give that group some special authority. These words were spoken for all time and for all people who like those apostles gather around a table sharing bread and wine broken and given to us as the Body and Blood of Christ. These words are still spoken directly and specifically to you and to me. We are chosen, you and me. There is no time to say, “who me?” or “Later, I’m too busy.”

Being chosen is an extraordinary experience when you get right down to it. I live with the experience of being chosen by the church, by God, by men and women who have chosen to trust, listen, confess, follow, and rejoice with me. Most of you have been chosen by someone who wanted to spend their entire lives with you, and we have all been chosen by just enough people to discover the beauty of real friendship that leaves us to wonder how and with great joy find comfort in the peace it brings.

We have been chosen. Believing and understanding this changes everything about us. It means that no matter what we have done or what anyone else thinks of us, we are chosen by God and there is a purpose and something to do as a chosen people. There is peace to bring. There is forgiveness to offer. There are hungry people to feed, and lonely people to embrace. There are naked people to clothe. People imprisoned to visit. There is mercy to share, and joy besides. This truth which we proclaim today, this Word of God spoken to us gives us reason to rejoice again not just because Christ was raised from the dead, but because we who have been dead in our own self-pity and sinfulness have been chosen. It ought to feel like winning the power-ball jackpot, and we ought to look like that family many of us saw on TV last week whose horse won the Kentucky Derby. Joy and excitement ought to mark us even more because having been chosen by God has greater promise and more reward that we can ever imagine, but imagine it we should because he has called us his friends.

Saint Peter the Apostle Parish Naples, FL

Acts 9, 26-31   Psalm 22   1 John 3, 18-24   John 15, 1-8

 It is the night before his crucifixion when Jesus speaks these words to his disciples. To have these words speak to us we must remember context in which they were spoken. There is a mood of intensity. He senses what is to come. His death is now inevitable, and he probably knows he cannot count on these disciples to do anything about it. True to their previous ways, they probably do not quite get what is happening; but we know how they will be scattered and separated from him in the hours and days to come. He does not want this to happen. The relationship that promises life and gives hope must be preserved, because it is only in the relationship that he enjoys with the Father and shares with them that his life and his mission can be accomplished. REMAIN, he says. STAY!

To make the point, he uses the familiar image of vine, branches, and the vine grower. It is an image that carries a powerful message of dependence and mutuality. The grower needs the vine, and the vine needs the grower, and they both need the branches. There can be no fruit if these relationships are not sustained. As he prepares himself to leave the disciples, he gives them this image to sustain their hope when their hearts are troubled and they are scattered with broken dreams. It is an image of profound reliance and dependence because life is nothing without belonging, intimacy, and relationships.

Alone we can nothing. Alone we are nothing. Against this kind of independence and individuality Jesus speaks. His teaching is just as needed today as it was the night before the disciples were challenged by his death. This age in which we live and proclaim this Gospel pretends that we are more connected than ever with news, information, the internet, email, and social media opportunities at our fingertips. Yet while we are all “linked in” all over the place, rates of loneliness and depression are greater than ever. While we are all connected electronically, we are starved for the actual experience of being in a real relationship. There is a difference between being connected and being in a relationship, and this may well be what Jesus offers. Connections do not nourish life, and while they might make money, they do not bear fruit, the fruit of joy and peace, love, and life in abundance.

Jesus speaks to us about relationships, about belonging, and about remaining with one another, with him and through him with the Father. In that experience of a loving relationship, we are free: free to be ourselves, free to make mistakes, free to fail, confess our hopes and dreams, fears and disappointments. In this relationship we are accepted, loved, and forgiven by a God who loves the whole world enough to send his only Son. This knowledge and experience allows us to do the same with and be the same for each other: accepting, patient with the imperfections and flaws of others because we all have them.

This kind of life together is fruitful, because there is no fruit from a broken branch. None of us can realize our potential and become anything at all without someone else who believes in us, teaches, leads, guides, forgives, and provides for us. Bearing fruit demands dependence, and dependence requires connection and belonging. As soon as anyone thinks they can produce anything on their own, they are on a path to emptiness and despair. Their lives will be barren and empty.

Bearing fruit has everything to do with relationship. It is risky business because it reveals who you are and on whom and what you depend. It exposes a lack of self-sufficiency. It shows others that there is no other way to be but to be dependent, and in an age that seems to thrive on independence and individuality, this becomes a challenge that sets us apart. Many think it is weakness to be dependent. Many think ties should be broken, and that this is the only way to self-actualization and autonomy, but not so those who hear Jesus speak about vines and branches. Belong matters. Relationships are essential. This is what makes church, and it creates family. We who gather in this place as church are reminded once again that we are expected to bear fruit. We can do so only because we are alive and dependent upon one another. Having remained in Christ and having Christ remain in us, we are with the Father.

Remember friends, fruit bears, protects, and nurtures seeds. Fruit holds the promise of continued life without end. We are the fruit of those who have gone before us, and in as much as we do remain, stay, and abide, the seed of faith, the seed of hope, and the very seed of life will spring to life. The fruit that we bear will produce what we are. Apples produce apples. Grapes produce grapes. Faithful, Holy, Joyful and, Grateful people produce more children of God like themselves, and as they remain on the vine will build up and bring the mission of Jesus Christ and the Will of Father to fulfillment.

Saint Peter the Apostle Parish Naples, FL

Acts 4, 8-12 + Psalm 118 + 1 John 3, 1-12 + John 10, 11-18

It is very easy to slip into a comfortable, romantic, idealist’s image of a shepherd. Artists through generations have given us paintings of little wooly lambs and the serene face of a bearded and groomed shepherd in a nice white linen robe walking through a field of green grass.  You can almost hear violins playing sweetly. Then the familiar verses of Psalm 23 add to that comforting image allowing us to forget that those verses were composed for a people who were oppressed, frightened, threatened, and in grave danger. That image of a Shepherd stirs their memories of the Shepherd King, David and their past days of glory. For a people like us who are in no particular danger, not really much oppressed, or seriously frightened, there is little to do with this message except grow more comfortable and secure enjoying the role of admiring spectator content with images of little wooly lambs and a smiling serene looking shepherd. There is a danger here for us because it leaves us with a serious dis-connect  from reality that should motivate us to look more carefully at what is being revealed and proposed by John’s Gospel.

We have for too long lived with this image from the sheep’s point of view, and that dis-connects us from reality. Sheep do not see all the dangers lurking in the wild. They are sheltered from the harshness of the weather, and they are protected from other wolves and vultures that would harm them. They do not have the intelligence to understand or see the disorder and greater danger their natural movements create. If these paintings reflected what is really happening, they would show the chaos, fear, and danger that is really going on. It seems to me that the job of a shepherd in the real scenario is to create what is not there, peace. When Jesus calls himself the “Good Shepherd”, he announces that he will bring what we do not know: peace.

When your children were young you had the responsibility of protecting them from the realities of the world. When they are little they do not need to know about the wars, the poverty, the suffering, and the sin in this place. They need to know love, patience, and comfort. When your children placed their heads on their pillows at night, fear need not be the last thing on their mind even though the world can be a scary place.

The point of this Gospel is not to soothe us into a kind of romantic bliss, but stir us up and leave us to wonder about deeper and troubling things.  More children than ours do not know what safety feels like. They do not enter the world with some naïve notion that someone will take care of them and protect them. They do not know the peace of the shepherd because they have never seen one. Think of what it is like for those growing up on the streets of this world, those who hear explosions all day and night in parts of Africa, the Middle East, and even parts of Europe. Consider the orphan who has never had a real hug, or the children who saw their parents murdered before their very eyes. Consider the children in hospitals who suffer from terminal illness and experience lives of constant pain. These are his lambs. They need Jesus. These lambs need real peace; and who will bring to them the Shepherd?

Perhaps we should expand our theological idea of ourselves as the Body of Christ to become the Body of Christ the Shepherd. He leads his flock this very day into places where storms, wolves, and chaos threaten. We who have been with him know how peace feels, and so we can Shepherd these places. Every one of God’s children, every one of his sheep deserves at some point to be the snugged one who waits and calls out to be hugged. We can’t relax and feel really safe and comfortable with this image as long as any one of God’s children lives in fear or danger, or just longs be to held and hugged. Someone must bring them the Shepherd or become the Shepherd.

Saint Peter the Apostle Parish Naples, FL

Acts 3, 13-15, 17-19   Psalm 4   1 John 2, 1-5   Luke 24, 35-48

Last week I suggested that the fear felt by the apostles was far more than “fear of the Jews”. I truly believe that their fear must have also included a fear of Jesus; a fear that he might return as he said. Then, what would happen to them. Their lack of action on his behalf made them partly responsible for his death. Add to that their belief that he was the Messiah they had hoped for and then abandoned made this an even greater fear. They were terrified and trapped. This realization that he was the Messiah they had failed had one consequence, damnation. They had lost their chance to be saved. They certainly heard about the death of Judas knowing he had suffered from the same guilt and despair. Now they were hearing news from others about walking, talking, and eating with Jesus who was very much alive. Then suddenly Jesus is there, and two things happen that move them from doubt to belief, from fear to wonder and joy: touch and food. The one has touched others and brought healing and hope now invites them to touch him, and that touch heals their doubt. This is real. In that culture, you do not eat with people you fear and do not trust. Now the one who has fed thousands, broken bread with tax collectors and sinners, and fed them in an upper room asks them to feed him, and that removes their fear.

This greeting of Jesus in that room is rich in meaning. Far more than an end to hostilities, peace is a wish for wholeness and for holiness in mind, heart, and soul. The power of this greeting in peace spoken by Jesus brings healing among them and reconciliation. What we must not fail to see is who come seeking that reconciliation and offering that peace, Jesus. It should have been the other way around. They were the offenders who, by our standards ought to have sought him to say they were sorry and beg for peace and forgiveness. But it is not that way in this story nor is it ever that with God as this story reveals. God comes to us. Jesus seeks. He reaches out passes through locked doors, stony hearts, and walls of guilt and fear to bring hope and the joy of peace where there is none.

In this we have found the meaning of his life, death, and resurrection. It is the ultimate revelation about the Father who sent Christ Jesus into this world. The God from whom Adam and Eve hid in shame is the one who begins the reconciliation. This is the God who seeks communion with human kind, the best and most loved of creation. This is the news Jesus proclaimed among us. He had taught these disciples over and over again to seek the poor and the outcasts, those left behind and those shut out. All the while they argued for places of honor. He proclaimed the privilege of the poor and the necessity of suffering, but they would have none of it. Now when they are at their lowest in guilt and disgrace, he comes with an offering of peace that opened their minds to understand the scriptures in a new way. Having met this Lord, risen in glory, and having accepted his offer of peace, they are prepared then to be witnesses of this to all the nations.

My friends, it must be the same for us. The offer of peace, the promise of forgiveness, the opportunity to live with joy is there for us who are willing to touch and to feed for there are still too many who long to know the touch of kindness and hunger for understanding, justice, and love. The Joy with which we live our lives, welcome others, touch, and feed hungry will be the witness Christ expects from those who have listened to and kept his word. As the Epistle today says: “The love of God will them be perfected in them.”

Saint Peter the Apostle Parish Naples, FL

Acts 4, 32-35   Psalm 118   1 John 5, 1-6   John 20, 19-31

After more than forty years of study, prayer, and preaching with this text, something new is beginning to dawn on me. Perhaps it has simply taken that long for me to get over it, because being named “Thomas” always put me in a defensive mode when hearing this story. I recall going through a time when I defended him. I would image all sorts of reasons for his absence, and excuse his interaction with the others thinking that because he was out buying the food or preparing meals for that group in the upper room he did not get to share in their conversations and experiences which included previous visits of the Lord.

What I have finally begun to realize is that this is not about Thomas at all. It is about Jesus Christ risen among his people. Thomas is not the point of the story. Jesus is the point of the story. It is the behavior and the words of Jesus that matters most of all. That situation with Thomas is just a set-up for the appearance of Jesus and more wonderful and joyful revelation. What Thomas speaks and proclaims is really the first “Creed”. The first profession of faith. Isn’t it interesting what happens in four hundred years to the “Creed?” It goes from 5 words to 224 counting the Amen! It was a lot easier to memorize, and nobody messed with the translation of that first creed to get us mixed up.

We must pay attention to Jesus in this story. He comes to them when they are afraid. A Gospel writer says that they had the doors locked “for fear of the Jews.” I suspect that “fear of the Jews” was just an easy excuse. I think they were afraid to see Jesus face to face; afraid of what he might say about the recent behavior. Yet, there he is. Does he berate them for their shameful and cowardly behavior? Does he scold them? Does he look at Peter and say: “I told you so”, or ask were Judas is? None of that. He simply says: “Peace.” Everything is fine. He knows them. He loves them. He called them his own. He embraces their weakness and their failure. Their not too dependable loyalty and even their absence still merits his presence. It’s as though with Thomas he is just going to keep coming back until he finds Thomas there where he belongs. He knows all their doubts and their fears, and he simply comes to be among them bringing them peace.

It is a moment of Divine Mercy. It is a message of hope to a church that he has not left them, and that when his presence is acknowledged, they will know peace and the joy it brings. To imperfect and broken people Jesus entrusts his final and best gift, peace. He describes that gift in terms of merciful forgiveness. It is never earned nor deserved. If it were, it would not be “mercy.” What he asks of them in those words of sending is mercy. What they receive from him they must give.

The power to show mercy comes from being a broken person. The power to show mercy comes from the knowledge and the feeling in your heart that you owe everything you are and have to sheer divine mercy. That is exactly what was going on in that upper room. They had come to the realization that they deserved nothing. They were helpless and hopeless. They were cowards and unfaithful, and in that truth they were able to say and accept the fact that every joy and virtue, every distress, and every success they knew came from the free and undeserved mercy of God.

So, here we are in that upper room. As far as Jesus is concerned, those people in that room were not his friends. In running and hiding, denying and abandoning him, they were as complicit in his suffering and death as the Romans and the “leaders of the people.” Having done nothing to stop it, they were as guilty as anyone. Yet, there he is with the blessing of Peace, and the Joy that wells up from this undeserved mercy is remarkable.

What we see here is the proof of real mercy: the power to see distress, feel pity, perform relief and all of that toward an enemy or someone you thought was your friend.

Saint Peter the Apostle Parish Naples, FL

Acts 10, 34-43   Psalm 118   Colossians 3, 1-4   Mark 16, 1-7

There is an important way to consider what we celebrate today that not many of us have taken up. I know that only recently this thought has worked its way into my thinking and believing. I suspect that those first companions of Jesus had to allow time to sort this out as well in order to see and believe. We learn quickly in life that what you see is not always what you get. It always depends on how you see and what you are looking for. On that first day of the week, they did not see with anything but sadness and fear, grief and disappointment. So what they got was an empty tomb that may have been robbed. What they were looking for was Jesus of Nazareth, a carpenter’s son, a rabbi/teacher who had stirred their hopes of a Messiah who would reign with glory and restore Israel to its past power.

Had they not been motivated by fear, grief, and disappointment, they might have seen a mighty act of God. There is a clue to that in the text, but you have to read critically to pick it up. By the time Mark’s Gospel settled into a written text, the fear, grief, and disappointment was gone, and what was finally described is written in what grammar calls: the “Passive voice”. It says, “The stone was rolled back.” It does not say who did it. There is no name which leads us to suspect that respect for the name of God caused this detail to be recorded in the Passive voice. They could not say “God.” In other words, this is an act of God. What believers see is not an empty tomb. Believers see an act of God: Divine Revelation.

Through the whole life of Jesus Christ Divine Revelation has been in progress. From the moment it all began with the Annunciation, the nature, the being, the presence of God and the will of God has been unfolding for those who are ready to see it. For those God was present and at work. For those who were looking for something else, perhaps for their own gain or power, there was nothing to see. If we were to choose a word inadequate as one word could be to summarize or describe what has then been revealed, I think it would have to be LIFE, which might be the best and most clear sign of God’s presence. When that presence goes into action, when life is at its best and highest, it is unconditional LOVE.

The whole idea is so immense and so profound that our human minds have to carve it up into smaller pieces to grasp. So we make animal life, plant life, and human life which is all very fine as long as we keep seeing the creator in the beauty of that life. “What you see is what you get”. When it comes to human life unfortunately we do the same thing. There is life before birth, adult life, and life after death for those willing to take a leap of faith. Perhaps there is a better way to look at life which is what Easter can become for us.

Instead of thinking today about “life after death”, it might be better think about “life through death” not only for Jesus Christ, but for us all. At the Incarnation God chose the best of God’s creation to share divine life. God did not choose animals, plants, fish, or stars. God chose the last of creation to share God’s life. In Jesus Christ God reveals the secret of life. God reveals what makes life worth living (so to speak), so precious, so full, and so creative and beautiful: Love. What we celebrate today and what draws us together is Life, Divine Life, not just in Jesus Christ, but in everyone who lives and loves. This room, simple as it is, worn with the feet of the faithful for 40 years in this parish is full of life today and full of love. What we proclaim with our song, our presence, and prayers is that nothing can destroy life because it is of God, and as long as we love nothing can keep us down or hold us captive: not hatred, not disappointment, not betrayal, not even death.

We tell the stories of those first disciples during these days because they are clearly our own. They doubted, they denied, they ran, they hid, and they got the message wrong over and over again thinking it was about them and their lives as though they could separate their life from God’s life. Finally, after seeing and believing that life goes on even through death, they got it. After discovering that in spite of all their failures God still loved them, they grasped the reality that their very lives were a share in all that God is. With that realization, they changed and everything else changed. God continues through them to forgive, to heal, to hold up and lift up those who are bowed down. God continues to call back to life those who are entombed in hatred or racism, violence and revenge. What it really means is that our lives have purpose and meaning, we have a mission and a reason for awakening every day to the opportunities to be God’s presence for those in darkness.

Life through death is the promise we celebrate today because of the witness of the Risen Christ. We can, we shall, we are full participants in his life, not just after death, but through it, within it, and even before it. What Christ is, we shall be when love, heals what is broken in us and awakens us to the dawn of this day. Then others will get what they see in us, life and love.

On behalf of your pastor, Father G, Father Pedro, Father Benjamin, the five deacons who serve this parish, and all the staff and volunteers, I extend to you our great affection and sincere hope that you will live your lives in Christ, through death and every challenge, with hope and joy that brings us all peace. For this is the day the Lord has made!

Saint Peter the Apostle Church, Naples, FL

Isaiah 52:13–53:12 • Hebrews 4:14-16; 5:7-9 • John 18:1–19:42

 The Television medium has loaded us with opportunities to become spectators for the past several days with programs called: “Finding Jesus” and “Killing Jesus.” I am not sure what is behind these productions other than the money the sponsors make by drawing people around the screen to watch some writer or producer’s idea of what it was like in Jerusalem at the historical moment Jesus of Nazareth was killed. The trouble with all this business is that it turns revelation into “entertainment” and whatever historical value might possible have slipped in is left unconnected to the present day. This leaves us in the role of the spectator as though we were sitting in our living rooms or a stadium watching a grand drama unfold munching pop-corn. We might feel some sadness or admiration for Jesus of Nazareth, but personally confronting the mystery of what the Passion and Death of Jesus means and what God reveals and wills through the Death of Jesus Christ is the last thing we are encouraged to do so. Television producers are not going to take us there, but at some point, perhaps today, we have to ask the question: “What does this death have to do with us today.” “What have we become because of it?”

Only around this altar and in communion with our companions in faith will we enter into this mystery to discover what it means. Only around this altar can we participate in the Passion and Death of Jesus Christ and move from being spectators into actual participants. Our place in the Life and Death of Jesus Christ is not to sit here and read: “Crucify Him.” Our place is not among the mob and unbelievers. Our place is among the apostles, who though hiding in fear, confusion, and disappointment, eventually, by the power of the Spirit, became the very body of Christ for this world. Here in communion around this altar we become one with Christ and with all who suffer; with the innocent, the imprisoned, the misunderstood, the betrayed, the rich and poor, the sick and the lame, the lost and the sinner. Here we struggle with the question of suffering and confront the reality of death with a faith that gives us hope. Otherwise we are just watching someone die a horrible unjustified death.

The Son of God who abandoned the comfort and glory of heaven took on flesh and blood to become one with us, all of us, and in that “communion” in that bond with humanity divine life is resurrected within us out of the death of sin. Our place in this story is eventually on the cross. That is what the disciples discovered once the Spirit opened their eyes and their hearts. God’s desire to lift us up, heal our brokenness and restore us to our original glory is revealed in Jesus Christ who so completely identified with us that he embraced the most insidious, horrible, agonizing death anyone could imagine at that time so that no one would be left out. All we have left of him now is bread broken in communion, the Eucharist, which when received brings us into communion with him and with all human kind.

Still to this day, the sick must not be alone, those on the edge and fringe of society must be gathered in, the poor must have companions and a voice, the abused must have protectors, the old must have tender respect, the grieving must find comfort, children must be brought to Jesus, and the gospel must be proclaimed to those who live in darkness because these are God’s children. This is what God has revealed through Jesus Christ. The Will of the Father was not about a crucifixion, but about being obedient to and completing God’s plan for all to be saved, healed, forgiven, and loved. What God asked of his Son God asks of us: that we might become one with the same kind of people Jesus came to serve and love. It was not those in power or those with influence. It was not to the healthy and prosperous. It was to the sinner, the sick, the poor, and the powerless left behind.

At some point, the wonder of this revelation must get us up off the couch, and draw us into the mystery of what this cross has done for us. We were not born into this life to be spectators. Our faith will not permit us to watch for long. The Spirit comes with fire and wind, and the Christ who rose from the dead will call our names as he called Lazarus to unbind us and set us free: free to be his disciples living in communion, forgiven, healed, and full of life.

 St Peter Catholic Church Naples, FL

Mark 11:1-10 + Isa 50:4-7 + Psalm 22 + Philippians 2:6-11 + Mark 14:1–15:47

The Passion account just proclaimed is filled with stories of disappointment, loneliness, despair, rejection, aloneness, and feelings of abandonment. The stories of humanity’s struggles are revealed before our eyes in the journey of Jesus, his disciples, his friends, and those who knew him. Without knowing fully how the Resurrection event would end, I am sure that on Good Friday and in the days following many felt disconnected, confused, and full of despair wondering who really cares and whether or not their lives with Jesus of Nazareth really made any difference.

Every one of us experiences some type of loneliness at one point or another in their lives. Even people in committed, solid relationships can experience loneliness, and it can even be said that a certain dose of it is healthy for personal and relational development. Many people, however, find it to be their consistent and unwelcome companion. This crippling loneliness can lead to a terrifying sense of isolation and eventually depression. We are quickly becoming a society of isolation and entitlement. Our lives are often too complicated and busy to find the time needed to build and maintain meaningful and close relationships. Worse still, we may not even realize that there is an imperative need within us to do so. The prophet Isaiah in our first reading today, insists that we must learn “how to speak to the weary a word that will rouse them.”

The disciples found their strength in connecting with one another after the crucifixion of Jesus. Jesus found his strength in connecting with his Father. These were connections of the heart, connections that lead to profound transformations of love. The love revealed in the crucifixion of Jesus did not come to us simply by what was said about it. It came from the humble actions and the transformation that embraced it. We will soon tell the stories of how disappointed, lonely people found hope and joy in the company of one another in the days between Good Friday and Pentecost from Jerusalem to Emmaus.

We have a profound message to bring to our world. There is no one else who can witness to others the value and sanctity of every human life and the profound joy that connecting with others in our community of faith can bring.

People who are vulnerable, lonely, or poor need help in confronting their darkness and helplessness to find the truth that is within them. It is a journey whose success relies on companions willing to walk with them and assist them in seeing the light. Those who are most isolated and lonely can experience the tremendous joy of the Resurrection when they learn the beauty of what it means to walk with others and discover the spark of the divine that is revealed when serving others along the way.