July 14, 2019 onboard the MS Amsterdam

Deuteronomy 30, 10-14 + Psalm 69 + Colossians 1, 15-20  + Luke 10, 2-37

Luke, among the four Evangelists is the great dramatist. All of his stories can ignite the imagination, and we can really see the drama being played out. The risk with this style is that all of the characters are life-like, and we could spend a lot of time reflecting on them all. They all have something to teach us. Yet the center of this episode is the lawyer, and he is really the focus for Jesus with the most to teach us. The dialogue between them is what this is all about. The scene with the others on the road and at the inn is just background illustration.

Luke tells us that this Lawyer has come up to Jesus to test him, but Jesus ends up asking the test questions, and a simple look at the lawyer’s answers might suggest that he passed with flying colors. But, it’s not that simple. First of all, that lawyer may know a lot about the law, but he doesn’t seem to know and appreciate the purpose of the law. His knowledge is superficial. He thinks it is a way to justify himself, and he’s looking through the law for a way to do the minimum. We do that all the time. There is written into the code of law how much tax we must pay, and we resort to all manner of schemes looking for loop holes to find out just how little we must pay. Does anyone here every pay more than is required? This lawyer wants to figure out just how little he has to do and still keep the law. He is a minimalist who thinks he can justify himself by doing nothing more than what is required. That does not work with Jesus Christ.

Never mind that the whole purpose of the Law for Israel was to draw people closer together, to build a community in covenant with God. If we can draw any conclusion from the Songs Israel sang, which we call the Psalms, the Law gave them Joy, because it brought them together in love and led them to God. This Lawyer has no clue about the real purpose of the Law. He knows just enough to excuse himself or figure out just how little he has to do.

Jesus is on to him, and he is not impressed by the Lawyer’s ability to quote the Law. With that little story by way of example, Jesus reveals how far off the mark the lawyer is with his justifications and the narrow limits he puts on himself by using the law to set up minimal limits. The Priest and the Levite kept the law very nicely, and the other man stayed in the ditch. The lawyer just wants to do the minimum, and so he comes up with that question: Who is my neighbor” so that he can exclude those he doesn’t like. He thinks it is someone who lives nearby, speaks his language, looks like him, and thinks like him, but Jesus who is always pushing the limits we like to set up blasts that narrow definition of the neighbor by insisting that a neighbor is anyone in need. This is why in the story the man on the side of the road has no clothing and no identity. He can’t be identified in the narrow definition as a “neighbor.” He’s just someone in need.

In an age when Somalis and Palestinians, Hondurans and Guatemalans come into our living rooms night after night on the evening news, beaten and abandoned by the human traffickers who take what little they have with promises of safety and freedom, we are at verge of being overwhelmed and can easily decide that the problem is bigger than we are, and that alone we can do nothing to make a difference. After all, those people are not our “neighbors”, or are they? That’s the issue Jesus puts before us today with one command: “Go and do likewise.”

July 7, 2019 onboard the MS Amsterdam

Isaiah 66, 10-14 + Psalm 66 + Galatians 6, 14-18 + Luke 10, 1-10, 17-20

Just in case you have wondered about the number 72, let’s get started by understanding that in the tenth chapter of Genesis, 72 is the number of nations in the world. Luke’s point is that the mission involves the whole world. Earlier in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus sent out “The Twelve” representing Israel’s 12 nations. Now the mission of Jesus and his disciples is bigger than just Israel.

The instructions are very clear: take nothing. The sharing of the Gospel, our mission which we call today Evangelization is a ministry of presence. That’s all there is to it. Jesus did not give them a Handbook, a Catechism, Canon Law, a Map, a set of CDs, or a Power Point Presentation. They were to be the message. The mission all rests on their relationships with one another, their joy, their gentleness, the mercy they show, the generosity, and the forgiveness they offer.

Years ago, when I was the Director of Seminarians in my diocese, a really fine seminarian full of zeal and good intentions was spending the summer out in western Oklahoma with a good pastor who happened to be away for a few days. The seminarian called me late one evening. It seems there had been a tragic accident on the highway, and the hospital called the Rectory for a priest. The seminarian was alone, so he called me and said: “I don’t know what to do.” I said, “Don’t do anything. Just go over there and stay with them. If you “do” something you might mess it all up. All that family needs is for someone to be with them.” Later I heard that when he got to the hospital, someone in the family said, “But, we wanted the priest.” The seminarian responded. “He’s out of town. I’m all you get. Let’s get in there and pray.” With that, everything was fine, and I know the story because one of the family members called to tell me how wonderful it was to be comforted by that young man.

I have never forgotten that experience when I am faced with a situation in which I don’t know what to say or what to do. Sometimes it is best to simply say nothing and just be there. There is no excuse for running away. This is the instruction that Jesus gives those 72 among whom we must find ourselves. There is no substitute for presence. It is the way God has chosen to redeem us and give us hope. God simply came in the person of Jesus Christ, and God stayed. Sometimes God says nothing. Sometimes God does nothing, But, God is present, and you and I are all called to be that comforting, loving presence. It’s not a matter of ordination or some long program of formation. It is a human experience that touches the human heart.

We cannot be afraid in a world that is hostile to the Gospel message of love and service, of peace and mercy. Revenge is the way of this world, and as this Gospel reminds us, it has no place in our lives because it has no place in God’s plan or in God’s Kingdom. The real point of the reign of God is union with God. Power is a dangerous thing, but the assurance that God loves you and that you have a future with God is the antidote to getting hooked on power and puts the battle with evil in its proper perspective. They do not go alone, those 72, and neither do we. We go together on the adventure of this mission. The laborers will grow, not from promotional advertising, but through attraction to the liberating life-giving movement we tend to call the Church.

June 30, 2019 at St. Peter & St. William Churches in Naples, FL

1 Kings 19, 16-21 + Psalm 16 + Galatians 5, 1, 13-18 + Luke 9, 51-62

Now begins the “Journey to Jerusalem” for Jesus and those of us who would be his companions. It is not just a journey for Jesus. It is a journey for every one of us who have begun to call Jesus our brother, our teacher, and our savior. Before he has even spent a day on the road, he casts out the demon of violence from among us. There will be no “fire from heaven” to consume those who oppose or are hostile to his presence. We will just move on. Perhaps, given some time and some good example those who are hostile at first might come around. Conversion is always possible. Who are we to take away their chance at conversion by destroying them? The whole incident raises a challenge for the healing of cultural, historical, and religious divisions. Hospitality must replace hostility.

This journey has nothing to do with maps reading or chronology, but everything to do with following Jesus Christ in our own time and place. Three encounters come up in these verses today. We hear the request. We hear the response of Jesus, but we know nothing of the outcome from those three meetings. It’s as though Luke wants us to resolve those issues for ourselves.

The first one comes up very confident needing to be tested. Can this one live powerless, homeless, and rejected if that comes with following Jesus? In the reply of Jesus there is the suggestion that as long as the Romans occupy Israel, no true Israelite is at home.  For us, it isn’t the Romans, but it is an oppressive secularism that occupies our homeland. It will reject us.

Then comes the second encounter, and this time Jesus takes the initiative calling this one to follow. It’s easy to have sympathy with someone who wants to bury a parent first. There is a cultural issue here that puts the comment of Jesus in another light. There is no indication that the father is dead. He could be quite fit and still young. Even though the culture in which this encounter takes place might suggest that a son postpone his own life until a father has died, Jesus proposes that sometimes following him may mean a contradiction of cultural expectations. In no way does Jesus deny here love and respect for parents. This is about cultural expectations, not family life.

Then the last one comes with conditions that seem reasonable, but following the way of Jesus Christ does not work conditionally. It’s all or nothing. Working a field with a plow in those days demanded great concentration and skill. If you took your eyes off the plow for just a second or two, it could be shattered by a rock hidden under the soil, and that would mean a disaster. So, with Jesus, there can be no distractions. The eyes, the mind, the heart are all focused on one thing only, making the field of this world ready for God’s harvest. Dedication and Commitment are required of us all if we are going follow Christ Jesus.

We proclaim this Gospel today in the age of “drop out”. We all know people who are dropping out: dropping out of a church that struggles to be purified from sin and the disgrace of broken leadership that has never needed us more, dropping out of politics at time when we need public servants of noble integrity like never before. Sometimes we drop out by simply being cowardly silent when we should speak up in the face of selfishness, injustice, and cruelty.

Today it might a good idea to ask the question: “Why is Jesus going to Jerusalem to begin with?” The answer is simple. Jesus goes and Jesus is found where ever salvation and hope are needed most. He is here among us today for those very reasons, and that is a cause for joy and hope.

June 23, 2019 at St. Peter & St. William Churches in Naples, FL

Genesis 14, 18-20 = Psalm 110 + 1 Corinthians 11, 23-26 + Luke 9, 11-17

“Do this in remembrance of me.” We shall hear those words again in just about ten minutes, but before we repeat that command, it might be a good idea to think about and reconsider that “this” is. What is it we are commanded to do in memory of Jesus? Some might like to think that “this” refers to consecrating bread and wine and receiving communion. If that is all there is to it, if that’s all Jesus Christ asks us to in his memory, there sure isn’t much to this faith, and there isn’t much to do that would require much faith, take time or ask much of us.

“Do this in remembrance of me” was important enough for Saint Paul that he repeats what Jesus says to the Corinthians today.  He wants them, and anyone who reads his letter to ask the question: “What?” What are we to do? What does God want of us? How are we to remember Jesus Christ so that in doing so, he remains present to us and can continue his mission within and through us. If you think for one minute that grabbing a consecrated host and heading out the door is fulfilling the command of Jesus, you are getting it all wrong, and while you may not want or like to hear this, this feast gives us reason to ask the big question: “What is it we are to do to remember Jesus?”

Both Luke and Paul give us a clue about what we are to do. The clue is the verbs: Take, Bless, Break, Give. That’s it. This is how we remember. This is what he asked us to do: take what we are given, bless it, break it, and give it away. Which is what he did with that crowd and what he did at that supper. We do it in this church so that we might remember what to do outside of this church.

We have all be given many gifts, and in a ritual way they will be taken and someone on your behalf will walk up this aisle with them. They will be taken. Then they will be blessed which simply means we will acknowledge the one has given these gifts. This is what Blessing means. Sometimes you hear in the prayer: “Blessed are you Lord God of all creation, for through your goodness we have received”. Then we break it, not to destroy it, but to complete the actions we do in memory of Jesus, we give it away, and in some ways, we give it back to God as we do with the Body of Christ. Yet, we imitate the one in whose image we are made when we give it to others who then can take, bless, break, and give again and again. Brothers and Sister, by the power of the Holy Spirit and the power of our faith together, we must continue to remember Jesus as he asked of us. It is nothing to simply do the ritual here if we fail to do the remembering tomorrow and the days after where ever we are. Luke tells us that there were 5,000 waiting for Jesus to take, bless, break, and give. Around us in these times, there are far more waiting alone, waiting hungry, waiting homeless, waiting in refugee camps, waiting for love, forgiveness, understanding, and respect. God speaks to us today in this Gospel giving us a clear command about what we are to do in response to the request of his Son. There is no excuse for a failure to remember  Jesus. All we need to do is look at what he did and do the same. This takes no divine omnipotent power. It simply takes compassion, mercy, generosity, and a desire to remember Jesus not just in consecrated bread and wine, but in the human flesh and blood through which he revealed himself to begin with. So, take, bless, break, and give.

June 16, 2019 at St. Peter & St. William Churches in Naples, FL

Proverbs 8, 22-31 + Psalm 8 + Romans 5, 1-5 + John 16, 12-15

I have never cared for the custom of calling the Sunday after Pentecost, “Trinity Sunday.” In more recent years someone decided that the title for the Sunday after Pentecost is the “Most Holy Trinity” as though there was a “Least Holy Trinity” or a “More Holy Trinity”. Too many words! When God puts me in charge, we will call the Sunday after Pentecost “Love Sunday”, because that gets to the heart of the matter, and doesn’t seem nearly as complicated the “Trinity.” My friends, Trinity is the destiny of our lives, because Trinity is Love, the love of God, the love God has for us, revealed in the love God has for Jesus Christ.

In most of our lives, we do not reveal ourselves at any depth to those we do not love, and we reveal ourselves in proportion to the love we feel. The Trinity is nothing more than God’s total self-revelation to us. It reveals Gods very nature and God’s most intimate life as nothing more than total, unconditional love. Just as we do with people we meet along the way; our self-revelation is gradual and progressive. The first time we meet someone, we don’t tell them our deepest dreams and hopes, our needs, wants, and most intimate secrets. If someone does that to me, I run! This is a progressive experience, and what is shared depends upon our capacity and need. You know what it’s like when someone tells you something about themselves that crosses a line. You begin to think: “I didn’t need to know that.” With God it has been the same. What has been revealed is gradual.

It all began with Abraham and God’s self-revelation with the truth that there is only one God followed by the gradual understanding and faithful response of Abraham’s descendants. Then, in a sense, when God felt confident that we had accepted that measure of revelation, more came in the form of God’s only Son, who revealed more of God’s nature as loving mercy. Then to those who did not refuse this revelation, more came with the gift of the Spirit finally revealing the most intimate and intense nature of God that can only be called: “love.”

In this place, we are exactly like the disciples in that room around a table, and Jesus speaks to us today with a message that should leave us stunned as the implication slowly sinks in. “The Father will take what is mine and declare it yours.” Everything that Jesus has is given to us by this Spirit. Think what that means! We are drawn into the relationship Jesus has with his Father. Whether we deserve it or not is irrelevant. By the power of God’s Spirit given to us, we can relate to God just as did Jesus. The essence of the Trinity is personal relationship of love between the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. When that Spirit enters us, we are in that relationship.

The Trinity then is the destiny of our lives. It gives us something to look forward to. The next life will not be like summer re-runs of TV. “Eye has not seen nor ear heard what God as ready for those how love him”. However, just as in this life, the consummation of love is union as with a husband and wife, so too in the next life the consummation of love will be in union, but not with a creature, but with the Creator. That union with God is our destiny, and so, love and the union it brings is our mission and our purpose in this life: to heal whatever is broken, to reveal the forgiving mercy of the Father and the patient love of God. The more we realize who we are and what has happened to us with the Spirit, God’s very breath in us, we will a people truly holy, truly blessed, and fully restored to the way we were created to be in the beginning. Everything we do and everything we say will give, as our prayer goes, Glory to the Father, to the Son, and to the Holy as it was in the beginning is now ever shall be.

June 9, 2019 at St. Peter & St. William Churches in Naples, FL

Acts 2, 1-11 + Psalm 104 + Romans 8, 8-17 + John 14, 15-16, 23-26

A couple of years ago, I was on a plane off to give a talk somewhere. I was wearing my clerical suit because the person picking me up did not know me. I had taken my aisle seat on the plane, and a lady came along and moved into the seat next to me. I opened a book in which I was intending to hide when she turned and asked, “Are you saved?” My toes curled as every possible motive for asking me that question raced through my mind. I glanced at her hands. Seeing a wedding ring, I asked: “Are you married?” She looked around for a moment. I began to fear she might think I was proposing something, but suddenly she said: “Yes, I am for thirty-eight years.” I said: “I’ll bet you are a lot more married today than you were on your wedding day, and I am a lot more saved than I was at my Baptism. I am also a lot more of a priest than I was on the day of my ordination.” With that, she pulled out emergency evacuation card and began to study it while I opened my book.

I have often said to couples who came to the office to plan a wedding that their marriage began the moment they decided to spend the rest of their lives together. The Sacrament they were preparing for was a celebration of a love that was already there. I would go to reminded them that the love they had for each had been there growing slowly but steadily from the day they met. Sometimes people ask me when I decided to become a priest, and I always say the same thing: “This morning when I got up.” Isn’t it true for you? The marriages you lived and celebrated happened every time you faced a problem and decided to make it work. Parents know this. When a child is born, parenting begins, but you are lot more of parent by the time they move out on their own. At the birth of a child you begin to spend the rest of your days making parenthood come true through your relationship with your children. Any of us who have made a commitment in a moment pass through a life-time of growth and development that grows deeper and more real day by day.

It is the same with Pentecost and the coming of the Holy Spirit. In reality, the action and power of the Holy Spirit started when those disciples first met Jesus and moved them to follow him. It only deepened each time they acted in the name of Jesus. That event on the 50^th day did not start something in them, it revealed and made obvious what they already had and what they could become because of it. As we gather here to celebrate Pentecost, beware of thinking this is just a day or a time to remember what happened to those people in some “upper room” of Jerusalem. Doing that, misses not just the point, but distracts us from thinking about and realizing that we too have had the same experience. Perhaps there was no wind or fire, but you would not be here if the Spirit was not already stirring in your hearts and souls.

On the day Christ rose from the dead and became present in their midst, the disciples were struggling to take in the fact that death was not what they thought it was. because there was Jesus offering them peace. Uninterested in how slow they were to believe, he took them as they were, breathed his very Spirit on them, and gave them his mission: “Forgive.”

The consequence of forgiveness is oneness or the unity for which Jesus prayed so passionately the night before he died. It is the healing of whatever is broken whether it be hearts, lives, or relationships. As Luke describes the growing courage and awaked awareness of those disciples, Pentecost functions like a movement that breaks down the boundaries of time and culture, and most of all, our stubborn attitudes of privilege and power, of wealth and prestige which too often set us apart from another. That symbol of multiple languages represents all that divides us keeping us from understanding one another. Sadly, and painfully, I saw this in action just last week as I was standing the check-out line of store here in town. The person behind me turned to a family behind them who were speaking another language. She said hatefully: “Speak English, you are in America.” You should have seen the look on the faces of the children standing there with their parents. I looked at her thinking she needed a good lesson in geography, because America is a continent shared by several nations, but I just looked at her and said: “Come Holy Spirit”. You don’t have to be able to speak many languages to express love and respect.

We are here today to celebrate, nurture, and awaken the Spirit that is already stirring among us and within us. It is that Spirit making us uncomfortable in the face of easy but unfair judgements about others. It is that Spirit making us uncomfortable about enforcing divisions and separations that keep us apart. It is that Spirit making us uncomfortable and about walls and boundaries when people are desperate, frightened, and hungry. It is also that Spirit that makes our hopes sail and sets our hearts on fire dreaming of peace and justice.

So, with great trepidation should be have sung that Psalm verse today. “Lord, send out your Spirit, and renew the face of the earth.” May God take us at our word, and when God does, hang on, we’re in for a wild ride, a new heaven, and new earth, a new life with a new mission.

June 2, 2019 at St. Peter the Apostle Church in Naples, FL

Acts 1, 1-11 + Psalm 47 + Ephesians 1, 17-23 + Like 24, 46-53

There is a little story about young man in his twenties, walking along a city street. He spotted a hundred-dollar bill, and felt really good about it. Ever there after he decided to keep looking down where ever he went. By the time he was seventy, had had collected a lot of stuff: hundreds of wallets with credit cards and IDs, and the money he collected became quite a sizeable amount. From time to time he gathered some valuable stuff: he picked up at least ten mobile phones and i-pads. But above all, he also ended a hunch-back, unable to look anyone in the face.

This feast today invites us to look up. To have our eyes fixed on heaven. Now, to those first disciples of Jesus who produced this Gospel, the whole idea of looking up came naturally because this description in Luke’s Gospel would have reminded them immediately of something they knew from the First Book of Kings. You see, they knew the Old Testament a lot better than most of us. So, I have to tell you about it, but they got it immediately. In the second chapter of First Kings it tells of how one day Elijah was with his disciple Elisha near the river Jordan. Suddenly there appeared a chariot of fire drawn by horses of fire. Elijah was taken up in a whirlwind as Elisha looked up to heaven. The old prophet left his cloak behind for his disciple to put on. From that time Elisha received the spirit of his master and was empowered to continue his mission in the world. In fact, from then on Elisha was able to perform the same deeds as his master. Luke, inspired in his writing, wants us to make a connection here.

Too often too many spend too much of their lives looking down; looking down on others, looking down on themselves, looking back down the past at old hurts and offences. Disciples of Jesus cannot do that. Disciples of Jesus are people who look up, who look ahead, who look for the constant signs of Christ’s promise to stay with us always. They look up in respect and love to all of God’s creation. We are people filled with the same Spirit that moved Jesus Christ to look into the eyes, the hearts, and the lives of lepers, the blind, the deaf, those pushed to the margins of society and see the face of their creator. You can’t see that looking down.

This place here in Naples is our Jerusalem. We gather in this holy place like those disciples who returned to Jerusalem to be clothed with power from on high. That power from on high is going to wrap around us all in just a few moments as we receive and put on, in a sense, the Body of Christ. Yet this communion is much more than “the body of Christ.” It is his life, his Spirit, his very soul and divinity. As always, we think it’s about us. We like think: “In going to communion” or “I’m going to receive holy communion.”  Did you ever stop think that it might just be the other way around? We’re not just receiving communion or going to communion. Christ is receiving us. Christ is taking over our lives. We’re about to be possessed, possessed as his own. His Spirit becomes our Spirit, and from now on just like Elisha, we continue the mission of our master, and in fact, we can perform the same deeds as our master who went about forgiving and healing what was broken.  We ought to try it, but it’s only going to be possible for those who look up and look ahead.

May 26, 2019 at St. Peter & St. William Churches in Naples, FL

Acts 15, 1-2, 22-29 + Psalm 67 + Revelation 21, 10-14, 22-23 + John 14, 23-29

Two promises are proclaimed today: The Spirit and Peace. That Spirit he promises is the very soul of Jesus: that spark of life, that power that animated him. It is the very presence of God that empowers anyone filled with that Spirit to be the presence of God to another, to exercise the work of Jesus Christ forgiving and healing whatever is broken keeping us from each other and from the Father. It is by and through that Spirit that the dream, the hope, and vision of Jesus that we might all be one is made possible. And then, unity, the bond of love between us a God, is the Peace he promises.

This world keeps thinking that “peace” comes from boarders guarded by huge armies, or weapons stock piled to strike fear in a foe; but the truth is, that is a war ready to happen. This world grows comfortable with a “peace” that is merely that absence of violence while restless unemployed youth, hopelessness and poverty grow greater and greater like a fuse waiting to be lit. Jesus knows the difference between this world’s idea of peace and what he wishes to leave within us.

Each time Jesus stepped into that upper room crowded with fearful and disappointed followers, he said: “Peace be with you.” In his language the word of Shalohm at that time, when used as a verb, described the mending of a net. It had to do with putting back together what was broken. When Jesus speaks that word, it announces that he is present in their midst, and that the relationship he had with those believers was not broken by death. He is there with them in that Spirit.

The peace Jesus leaves with us has little to do with feeling good inside and even less with an assurance of a calm, unruffled life or a successful career. The peace given by the crucified Messiah does not manifest itself in trivialities. The peace of Jesus has to do with fidelity toward the Father, with the awareness that we are loved and accepted by God. Hear that in these verses. Once we accept the staggering truth that God loves us in spite of everything we are and have done to him and to others, we can look at one another as children of God and be at peace with ourselves. This brings about a unity among us that reflects the unity of God. Understanding this is why racism or nationalism is so curious and so odd making us so uneasy and far from peace. Instead of finding our common unity in God, we fragment and individualize our identity. Unchecked, we will hardly ever recognize that we have a common Father.

The Peace Jesus leaves with us springs from the truth of our oneness which is never achieved by paring down or ignoring the complication of life, but only by entering into the magnetic pull of God’s grace, God’s love, and the unity God shares with His only Son. Living in peace is not optional. It is a requirement of our faith, and the unmistakable sign that we are filled with the Holy Spirit. The basis of human peace is peace with God.

In the Maronite Rite: The Fifth Sunday of the Resurrection: Peter receives his ministry

May 19, 2019 at Our Lady of Lebanon in Norman, Oklahoma

Ephesians 2, 1-10 + John 21, 15-19

These verses near the very end of John’s Gospel take us right to the very heart of faith and to the one condition, the one element without which there is no church, no faith, no hope, and no future. In the other Gospels, Peter makes some very profound and courageous acts of faith. Now in John’s Gospel, Peter’s act of faith comes at the end after his courage has been crushed, his pride broken, and all his weakness exposed for all to see. With three questions Peter makes a profound act of faith, and what matters most when it comes to discipleship and leadership is established once and for all. It is not a matter of being perfect. It is not a matter of being consistent. Theology degrees, speaking skills, knowledge of rules and regulations, who you know and who knows you does not matter at all. One thing identifies a companion and a friend of Jesus Christ, love, and Peter has it in spite of all his foolishness, mistakes, and ambitions.

What Jesus looks for in all of us is that love, a love that is greater than loyalty, charity, or sentimentality. It is the kind of love that leads one to surrender everything for the sake of the one loved. As Jesus describes it this is a love that even surrenders one’s freedom and one’s own independence, things we, in this world, prize above all. The kind of love Jesus speaks of finds in Peter and still looks for in us is the kind of love that means you can stretch out your hands and arms and be taken where you might not want to go. This is the kind of love that leads to complete surrender and total self-giving.

Love is the one, supreme condition for each of us who might want to be a disciple of Jesus. It is the one thing that Jesus looks for in us, and he can find it because he has given it to us. Having received this love, we do have it to give. What matters is that we recognize and trust that God’s love for us made manifest in Jesus Christ is real. What gets in the way all too often is a failure to believe, to trust, and to embrace the truth that we are loved and that we are loveable. Why else would Jesus have suffered what he did for us. Was he a fool? If, Peter had said: “Oh no, you can’t love me. I failed to defend you.” Or, “I denied you in front of others when I could have told them the truth.” You see? In the heart of Peter, there rested the love he had been shown and given. He realized that day that he was lovable, that he was good in the eyes of his friend, and the love that had been given to him was real and true drawing him into a relationship that had everything to offer and the promise of eternal life for those who would surrender to the power of that love.

I believe that Jesus looks at each of us today and through the power of a Gospel proclaimed in the context of this Sacred Liturgy he asks one thing of us. He never says, will you be perfect, will you obey the rules, will you always do the right thing, will you always look good, or will you always be happy. His question reveals all that really matters: “Do you love me?” Christ knows from personal experience that this is all that matters.

This love is stronger than hate. This love lifts the soul from the tomb and brings it home. Like laughter, love brings people to tears. Like Christ, love reminds us of where we want to go.

May 12, 2019 at St. Peter and St. William Churches in Naples, FL

Acts 13, 14, 43-52 + Psalm 100 + Revelation 7, 9, 14-17 + John 10, 27-30

The story is told about two people asked to recite the 23^rd Psalm for a congregation. One was a professional Shakespearean actor but a non-believer who stood up and delivered the verses. Using just the right tone of voice, the right inflection, pausing in just the right places and emphasizing just perfectly the right phrases, he left the congregation spell-bound. It was magnificent. Then, an ordinary member of the congregation stood up. He mispronounced some of the words. He stumbled through the images using the same tone of voice all the way with emphasis and pauses in the wrong places. He sat down feeling embarrassed, but he had one thing going for him. He spoke from his heart. Later someone from the congregation approached him and said: “You did a wonderful job.” The man said: “I thought the actor did a wonderful job.” The other man said: “Believe me, one thing was very clear. The actor knows Psalm 23. You know the Shepherd.

We should never forget that King David who wrote that Psalm which clearly was inspirational to Jesus did not say, “The Lord is a Shepherd” even though he is. He also did not say, “The Lord is The Shepherd” even though that is the truth. You know what King David wrote, say it, “The Lord is my Shepherd.” That one word makes all the difference in the world, and it makes all the difference in the world to come. It is that one little two-letter word that affirms, establishes, and bears witness to a relationship that is personal, intimate, and unique. Outside of that relationship, there is nowhere to go, nothing to do, and nothing to be.

The focus of these verses today is not the Shepherd. It is the sheep. Comforting as the image of the Shepherd might be, these verses are about us, about those who have heard and who listen to the voice of the Shepherd. In this noisy world where there are competing and conflicting voices, the sheep must know which voice holds the promise of unconditional love, the promise of freedom from death, and holds the hope of life everlasting. Those other voices are loud and attractive. There is a voice of power and prestige, a voice of privilege and wealth, a voice of pleasure, of sexual liberty, the voice that says “I am first.” “I am the best.” “I deserve whatever I want.” “It’s my right to do whatever I please or have whatever I want.” There is no end to those voices. You know them as well as I do. Yet, those voices have nothing to offer that lasts, and in following those voices we would always be vulnerable from outside. Only one voice can make the promise that we shall never perish, and the protection promised by that voice does not come from force, fear, guns, or walls. It comes from what the Shepherd has to offer, a relationship with the Father like his own. “The Father and I are one.”

The Shepherd invites us to know him and to enter into the very intimacy and oneness he shares with the Father. It is an invitation to be touched by the divine, to be created again in the image of the one who loves. The only way for this to happen is for us to listen to his voice spoken in the Word and desire with all our hearts to know him, to love him, and to serve him as the Shepherd knows, loves, and serves his father in obedience and sacrifice. Let it always be known to anyone who would observe us that in this church, in this faith, in the communion of the altar, we are one with each other, one with the Son, and one with the Father through the power and grace of the Holy Spirit which is the very breath that breathed life into us and called us each by name.