Feast of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary

 Lectionary: 572

Shout for joy, O daughter Zion!
Sing joyfully, O Israel!
Be glad and exult with all your heart,
O daughter Jerusalem!

Many women in the Old Testament display the grace and spirit which describe the Virgin Mary. Eve is the mother of all the living; Sarah, the faithful wife; Esther, the beautiful, courageous,and devout; and Judith, a womanly warrior. The list includes Ruth, the Shunnamite Woman, Solomon's mother Bathsheba, and Deborah. Jerusalem, Mount Zion, and the temple are also described as women; they prefigure the virgin daughter who was overshadowed by the Holy Spirit. 

In the earliest years of this century, as news reports of pedophilia among the clergy scandalized the Church and the world, some bishops reminded us that the Church remains forever innocent, pure, and faithful. The remarks were greeted with anger and cynical laughter; they explained nothing and made sense to only a few. It was not the time for such pious assertions. 

Hopefully, in a calmer hour, on this late-spring day, we can remember the innocence, purity, and fidelity of Mary, a young woman, as she visited her kinswoman Elizabeth. She is the Church, the most faithful and true, ever young at heart, joyful, and eager to hear and do the Word of God. 

She gathers us, her adopted children, as she approaches the Holy City and the Temple of the Lord. That word adopted recalls Saint Paul's reminder to all gentile Christians that, despite our alien origins, we have been adopted into the family of Abraham, and grafted into his tree. As the Father has given us to the Lord Jesus, and he in turn gives us to the Father, so were we given as adopted children to our Lady by the Lord as he died on the cross. 

Children of the Church, we are children of the Most Pure Virgin, and her innocence remains in us. As does the sin of Adam and Eve and all their ancestors. And so does the adoption of Jesus, especially as he took upon himself our guilt when he was baptized for the forgiveness of sins. 

In Mary we find our innocence as we are reminded of our guilt, and we find our joy. 

The joyful song of Isaiah also apply on this feast day when Mary arrives in the mountain city of Jerusalem: 

How beautiful upon the mountains

are the feet of the one bringing good news,

Announcing peace, bearing good news,

announcing salvation, saying to Zion,

“Your God is King!”

Listen! Your sentinels raise a cry,

together they shout for joy,

For they see directly, before their eyes,

the LORD’s return to Zion. Isaiah 52:7-8

Mary, arriving on Mount Zion where Jerusalem was built, came to Zechariah's and Elizabeth's house with good news. And her lovely feet are bare, especially in the images of her Immaculate Conception, as she crushed the head of the serpent. Her feet are beautiful on the mountain. 

Yes, we are a sinful, undeserving people; but the Lord has made us worthy by his own decree, and he has adopted us as his children through the faith we share with Abraham, and the joy we share with Mary and her Son. 

This is the work of the Lord, and it is wonderful in our eyes. 

This is the Day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad. Psalm 118

*******

[BTW, the Renaissance painter Caravaggio was scolded for his "Death of the Virgin," because her feet were bare. The critics obviously missed the allusion to Isaiah's vision.] 

Tuesday of the Eighth Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 348

Amen, I say to you,
there is no one who has given up house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands for my sake and for the sake of the Gospel who will not receive a hundred times more...

Expecting to find ads promoting weight-loss programs and diet foods, I googled "no sacrifice." Instead I found songs, scripture quotes, and warlike videos and games promoting the life of sacrifice. Some of the images are quite fetching. 

The virtue of sacrifice is out there, popular among young people. I suppose I am more familiar with the ads aimed at my age group, who've had it with sacrifice and expect, and think they deserve, rewards for past sacrifices, real and imagined. 

I am also more familiar with those religious promises which assure a better, easier way of life in righteous living. "Just say no!" should open the way to productive study, advancing careers, and eventual prosperity in the burbs. ""Early to bed and early to rise," said Ben Franklin, "makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise." 

This practical advice equates goal-directed discipline with sacrifice and its assured rewards. The latter are not unlike Jesus's promise of "houses and brothers and sisters, and mothers and children and lands, and eternal life in the age to come." All three synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) agree on this list of material blessings. 

Only the more sober Mark inserts, as the penultimate gift before eternal life, "persecutions." 

Beginning in January, and resuming today, our weekday gospels are taken from the Gospel according to Saint Mark. They will carry us into June. Biblical scholars believe Mark was written in Rome during a time of severe persecution. His dark descriptions of bewildered, unfaithful disciples and the mounting opposition of religious and civil authorities fits the Christian experience in Rome. The life of fidelity to God is certainly better, but don't expect the world to fall down in amazed admiration at your feet. Expect, if anything, their violent opposition. 

That ancient message is just as sobering for us today, especially as parents and teachers urge their children and students to be as innocent as lambs and as wise as serpents in their choice of companions and their use of social media. Even a passing acquaintance with daily news must terrify the guardians of our youth. How are they supposed to guide children when loyalty to the Lord promises no earthly rewards? It doesn't promise popularity, marketability, or wealth.

But sacrifice and discipline also apply to those who expect a third life of retirement. In fact, it doesn't get easier with the passage of time. Often, the aging body only wants to sit down. We amuse ourselves with, "Never put off till tomorrow what can be done the next day." and, "Anything worth doing is worth doing badly." Too many idle days might cancel a lifetime of virtue. 

Fortunately, the Holy Spirit helps us maintain the religious habits of a lifetime. We now pray more attentively, more aware of our need for God's mercy. We listen more closely to the scriptures and the words of prayer. We sign ourselves with the cross more deliberately; and genuflect -- if we're able -- with more determination. ("..every knee shall bow!")  

No one said it should get easier; and if they did, they were wrong. The news media show the constant threats of natural disasters to the weak, vulnerable, and elderly; and the danger of criminals online and in our quiet neighborhoods. Prey to these warnings, the unwary are afraid to go outside or to attend church. Although they have the time and the desire, they fear to attend the cathedrals which are invariably downtown. 

Again, the Holy Spirit fairly shouts at us, "Do not be afraid." Fear exaggerates danger, encourages foolish behavior, and isolates the lonely. Fear is is the policy of fools, and drives both politics and the economy; it should be alien to disciples of Jesus. 

Often, on Tuesday morning, the Office of Reading begins with Psalm 37. 

Do not be provoked by evildoers;

do not envy those who do wrong.

Like grass they wither quickly;

like green plants they wilt away.

Trust in the LORD and do good

that you may dwell in the land and live secure.

Find your delight in the LORD

who will give you your heart’s desire.,,,

I recommend Psalm 37, its reading and recitation. It's a wisdom psalm, a series of proverbs arranged by the Hebrew alphabet, with a constant refrain of reassurance. Because we learned to trust in God in our youth, it serves us well in our old age. 

Memorial of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of the Church

Lectionary: 572

When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple there whom he loved, he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son.”
Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother.”
And from that hour the disciple took her into his home.

Notice two overlooked incidents in the life of the Church. After Jesus's death on Calvary, and after his Ascension into heaven, Mary remained. She was still there. She who had given the Word of God flesh so many years before, whose flesh was his flesh, remained. 

When Isaiah confronted the vacillating King Ahaz, a small, silent boy stood by his side. His name was Shear-Jashub, which means “a remnant will return.” A remnant is a piece of a cloth; perhaps of a sheet, blanket, or cloak. We learn more about that remnant in Isaiah 10:20

On that day

The remnant of Israel,

the survivors of the house of Jacob,

will no more lean upon the one who struck them;

But they will lean upon the LORD,

the Holy One of Israel, in truth.

A remnant will return,

the remnant of Jacob,

to the mighty God.

Though your people, O Israel,

were like the sand of the sea,

Only a remnant of them will return;

their destruction is decreed,

as overflowing justice demands. (Isaiah 10:20-22)

That strange, silent little boy named "Remnant" added nothing to Ahaz's reassurance. Desperate to survive an impending crisis and cowardly by nature, the king would take no comfort in Isaiah's message that only a few would return to the haunted ruins of a now prosperous Jerusalem. But the word is a promise, and Remnant is a sign of God's fidelity despite the king's fear and the city's chronic infidelity. 

However, there is another boy in this story, as Saint Matthew reminds us, quoting Isaiah from the Greek (Septuagint) translation: 

All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: “Behold, the virgin shall be with child and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel,” which means “God is with us.”

Neither Isaiah nor Ahaz could imagine that "overflowing justice" against the sins of Jerusalem and Israel, against the Church and all Christians, against the nations and their inhabitants, demanded the death of Emmanuel, the Son of Mary and the Son of God. He alone would be that perfect sacrifice who takes away the sins of the world. 

Departing from Calvary with John, Mary is a kind of remnant of Jesus. If she leaned upon the disciple's arm as she left that desecrated hill, she leaned more "upon the LORD, the Holy One of Israel, in truth." Likewise, she remained in the Cenacle with the Peter and the disciples after his Ascension, awaiting the Holy Spirit and Pentecost. (The words remnant and remain have the same French source, remanant.)

She is that sign which Isaiah offered to Ahaz and the doomed city:

Even if a tenth part remains in it,

   it will be burned again,

like a terebinth or an oak

   whose stump remains standing

   when it is felled.’

The holy seed is its stump. Isaiah 6:13

She is the flesh of the Lord, joined to us through Baptism and Eucharist. She seemed a forlorn stump of a once mighty tree after his crucifixion. She was only a holy seed in the Upper Room, But she remains with us always as the Blessed Virgin Mary, worthy Mother of God and Mother of the Church. 

 

Pentecost Sunday Mass

Pentecost Sunday during the day

“Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” And when he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them,
“Receive the Holy Spirit.
Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them,
and whose sins you retain are retained.”

Pentecost, like Christmas and Easter, is a feast for the eyes, ears, and nose as we burn incense, light candles, sing songs, and gather in festivity. The celebrants and many in the congregation wear red on this occasion. Especially since Popes John XXIII and Paul VI convened the Second Vatican Council, we have come to appreciate the gift of the Church for each of us personally, and to the whole world. 

There may be salvation outside of the Church, but there is no salvation without it. The universe depends upon our fidelity; all Christian denominations are anchored to the Gospel by our fidelity despite their protests; and we rely on the Holy Spirit to keep us faithful. And the Lord has assured us, the Church will always be afflicted and will never fail. If we were silent about the Coming of the Lord, the very stones would cry out! 

The Sequence of Pentecost recalls the many gifts of the Spirit, especially the healing, reassurance, and comfort of knowing God has chosen and gathered us. The Spirit is our 

most welcome guest;
    Sweet refreshment here below;
In our labor, rest most sweet;
Grateful coolness in the heat; [and]
    Solace in the midst of woe.

The Spirit is also that blessed impulse to make disciples of all nations, especially through the forgiveness of sins. "Whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven!" That authority can only come from God, as the scribes rightly pointed out. And yet we're authorized both to name the sins and to forgive them as the nations turn to the Lord. 

There is much wisdom in the world. The Catholic Church has recognized and appreciated the depth of wisdom among the many religions of the world. I was struck recently by the Apostles Barnabas and Paul as they were mistaken for the false gods Zeus and Hermes. Even as they denounced the foolishness of the Lystrans, they reminded them of the God who has always provided 

"rains from heaven and fruitful seasons, and filled you with nourishment and gladness for your hearts.”

But the world cannot know its sin without the Holy Spirit. Abortion seems like a good idea to many people. Why not manufacture babies in the wombs of poor women while the wealthy pursue their careers? Why not alter a child's sexuality to fit their spiritual gender? Assisted suicide seems like a good idea; why should I suffer the indignity of approaching death? I don't want to be a burden on other people. 

They really don't understand the dignity of being made in God's image and likeness, nor its grave responsibilities. Much less can they imagine the blessedness of suffering for the Kingdom of God. 

These truths are hard to explain, but we know they're true first because God has revealed them to us; and secondly, because we see good and evil more clearly. Freed of avarice, greed, lust, and all the deadly sins, we understand their deceit as we turn toward the light. If, at first, we saw these truths dimly, as in a brass mirror, we have become convinced of their origin in God. Our very loathing of such ideas persuades us. 

But we understand the attraction of evil, its fascination and lure. It is baffling, powerful, and cunning. No one is entirely free of its charm. We have been there. 

This is why we celebrate Pentecost. The Spirit of God coming upon us gives us the ability and the willingness to forgive sins. This power is greater than a nuclear bomb, and sweeter than the roar of a Harley-Davidson. There is no joy on earth like that of forgiving our enemies. This is our gift to the world; shared in most solemn obedience to the Lord's command: Forgive as you have been forgiven. 

Saturday of the Seventh Week of Easter

Lectionary: 302 

Three days later he called together the leaders of the Jews. When they had gathered he said to them, "My brothers, although I had done nothing against our people or our ancestral customs..."

Saint Luke's sequel to his gospel, the Acts of the Apostles, ends with Saint Paul's arrival in Rome. He was wearing shackles and remained under house arrest for some time, but he was free to speak with anyone who might visit. And so the irrepressible missionary invited his Jewish peers to meet and decide his case for themselves. 

Apparently their reception was good because, for the next two years, 

He received all who came to him, and with complete assurance and without hindrance he proclaimed the Kingdom of God and taught about the Lord Jesus Christ.

Rome's unexpected hospitality represented the welcome the Gospel would find throughout the world. As he met these Jewish elders, Saint Paul also insisted that he bore no ill will against the Jerusalem faction who opposed him so violently, "even though I had no accusation to make against my own nation." During the long, harrowing sea voyage from Israel, including shipwreck in Malta, he had found peace in his heart and discovered a purpose for his exile. 

For him (and for Luke) the center of the world would be the ends of world. He was completing Jesus's command to "be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” From Rome, missionaries would sail for the Americas, Australia, Asia, and Oceania. 

And they should have no accusation against Jesus's own Jewish nation. The Gospel fulfills the Law of Moses, it does not upend or uproot it. Always sinful, always needing reform, always one, holy, catholic, and apostolic, the Church retains its anchors in Israel and Rome, in history and geography. We belong on this planet and in this world, although our home is in heaven. 

The Easter season ends rather abruptly with the feast of Pentecost. We are propelled like a ball off a bat -- or a cannonball -- from the alleluias of Easter into the Ordinary Time of a prosaic, uninspired world. On Tuesday, after a Memorial of Mary, we will resume the study of the gospels where we left off before Ash Wednesday.  

We might ask today, on this Saturday of the Seventh Week of Easter, what has changed in our hearts. The world of politics, economics, society, and entertainment has seen some changes in the several months, though none terribly important. Rivalries, wars, and killings continue. The rich are richer and more isolated, and the poor more deeply anchored in poverty. 

What have I learned since Shrove Tuesday? Has my heart witnessed something wonderful? Am I telling anyone about it? 

Memorial of Saint Philip Neri, Priest

 Lectionary: 301

"Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?"
Simon Peter answered him, "Yes, Lord, you know that I love you."
Jesus said to him, "Feed my lambs."

Commentaries and preachers, referring to the above passage, often recall Saint Peter's renouncing any association with Jesus during the trial, only a few hours after loudly declaring his readiness to die for him. All four canonical gospels recall his thrice repeated, insistent denial. The reference is highlighted in Saint John's Gospel by the charcoal fire, the number three, and Peter's remorseful anguish. 

But we should notice the Risen Lord's response. He doesn't say, "I forgive you!" or "Forget about it." He doesn't even add a penance to atone for the sin. Rather, he says, Feed my sheep!" and "Feed my lambs." 

The Resurrection appearances of Jesus are about the mission of the Church. They are not proofs of life after death, or the resurrection of the faithful; although Saint Paul will use them for those secondary purposes in his writings. Rather, they answer the most important question, "As a believer in Jesus Christ, what should I do?" 

The first women to see the empty tomb and hear an angel's proclamation were told to,

 "...go and tell his disciples and Peter, ‘He is going before you to Galilee; there you will see him, as he told you.’”

 Saint Mary Magdalene was told, 

"Stop holding on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am going to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”

He had work to do, and so did she! The disciples, breaking bread with the Lord, immediately returned to Jerusalem to tell them what they'd seen. And when the Lord finally appeared to the Eleven in the Upper Room, he told them, "As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” and then, 

"Receive the holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained.”

And finally,  

Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.

Some Christians trouble themselves with an awareness of their sins or doubts about their faith. "O Lord, I am not worthy!" they loudly declare when directed to do something. Others muse on whether there is a God and how come scientists cannot prove it. Both are simply refusing to hear the command of the Lord to proclaim the Gospel. 

I believe it was Saint Charles de Faucauld who said, "Once I knew there was a God, I knew I must worship him." 

As Saint Paul said, not all called to be preachers or teachers, but everyone is called to belong to, and actively support the Church with their time, talent, and treasure. In 1 Corinthians 13, the Apostle teaches his understanding of love, which is neither a sentiment nor a feeling. No one is so overwhelmed with love that they can do nothing, though they might be confused for a moment. Rather, like the Magdalene, we are sent on mission. 

Pentecost arrives on Sunday. We'll recall the Lord's command and know the courage within us to, 

...proclaim the word; be persistent whether it is convenient or inconvenient; convince, reprimand, encourage through all patience and teaching. For the time will come when people will not tolerate sound doctrine but, following their own desires and insatiable curiosity, will accumulate teachers and will stop listening to the truth and will be diverted to myths. (2 Timothy 4)

Thursday of the Seventh Week of Easter

Lectionary: 300 

The following night the Lord stood by him and said, "Take courage. For just as you have borne witness to my cause in Jerusalem, so you must also bear witness in Rome."

In his Second Letter to Timothy, Saint Paul recalled standing on trial for the Gospel and remarked, 

At my first defense no one appeared on my behalf, but everyone deserted me. May it not be held against them! But the Lord stood by me and gave me strength, so that through me the proclamation might be completed and all the Gentiles might hear it. And I was rescued from the lion’s mouth. The Lord will rescue me from every evil threat and will bring me safe to his heavenly kingdom. To him be glory forever and ever. Amen

To belong to Christ we must sustain -- and survive -- both our full participation in the Church and our personal, solitary standing before the Lord. No one can choose one and despise the other. Extroverts may prefer their many acquaintances in the fellowship and find solitude tiresome; introverts might shun the wearing interactions and occasional betrayals, and withdraw to their safer solitude. But their is no communion with the Christ without the communion of the Church, nor can solitary saints avoid worshiping an imaginary god when they lose touch with the flesh and blood of fellow human beings. 

Paul's mystical experience when "the Lord stood by me" confirmed both his confidence in the Lord and our mission to the whole world. As Jesus began to ascend into heaven he commissioned his Church: 

...you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

Most of the psalms are written in the first person, and many are laments. The bewildered, lonely saint remembers, "...he rescued me because he loves me." Psalm 18

And he often prays, 

Save me from the lion’s mouth,

my poor life from the horns of wild bulls.

Then I will proclaim your name to my brethren;

in the assembly I will praise you. Psalm 22

If they find the Lord's reassurance in solitude, it strengthens their resolve to "proclaim your name." And, likewise, if they find strength in numbers, they're fortified to face themselves in the lonely mirror and abide, like Saint John, in the Lord's bosom. 

But those who want only reassurance from companionship or solitude, must suffer occasional disappointment. Neither belonging nor introspection is easy in the struggle with evil. It lurks in the heart and the church. I've known people who are continually flipping from one church to another in their quest for comfort; they continually blame the Church for their disappointment, and fail to look in the mirror. Some will finally quit the search altogether and withdraw to idle, lethargic entertainment. 

Did someone say it should be easy? It wasn't Saint Paul. Nor the Lord. But in the difficult moments we often find the Lord standing with us, restoring our confidence, and sending us again to "Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

 

Wednesday of the Seventh Week of Easter

 Lectionary: 299

...and keep in mind the words of the Lord Jesus who himself said,
"It is more blessed to give than to receive."

Fascinating! that Saint Paul's last word to his Ephesian church was such a familiar teaching of the Lord Jesus. But exact statement is not in the gospels; it finds only similar expressions in the Old Testament, like Proverbs 19:17: 

Whoever cares for the poor lends to the LORD, who will pay back the sum in full.

and Psalm 41:2-3:

Blessed the one concerned for the poor;

on a day of misfortune, the LORD delivers him.

The LORD keeps and preserves him,

makes him blessed in the land,

and does not betray him to his enemies.

I suppose, without much research, all religions would heartily agree. "It's better to give than to receive" just makes sense. 

There he was, overcome with emotion as he parted from his dear companions of the last three years, after many trials and some success. Knowing he would never see them again in this world, the Apostle summed up everything he taught with a kindergarten truism. 

Repeating it each day might be a better way to begin. So much of what we do -- perhaps 99% -- is self-maintenance. We have to sleep, eat, bathe, dress, clean and maintain our homes, service our vehicles, pay bills, make a living, buy food, prepare food, wash laundry, buy stuff, compare prices, drive to work, meet health care specialists and counselors of every sort, take vacations, study, pray.... The list is endless. 

When everything is finally in order, as we close the door behind us and set out for the day, it is good to remember, "It's better to give than to receive." Somewhere during this coming day, like a true Scout, I should do a good deed.

If it wasn't Jesus's final word to us, it might have been for we see his consummate good deed in his dying on the cross. Our paltry donations of care, attention, and generosity to others hardly match such a sacrifice, but they might be faint echoes, reflections, of it. The cross certainly reminds us that any fool can refuse to go the extra mile, lend a jacket, or spare a dime. There's nothing heroic or generous about basic self-maintenance; it is only preparation for going above and beyond. 

And so we set out. It is better to give than to receive. I can do that. 

Tuesday of the Seventh Week of Easter

 Lectionary: 298

I revealed your name to those whom you gave me out of the world.
They belonged to you, and you gave them to me,
and they have kept your word.
Now they know that everything you gave me is from you,
because the words you gave to me I have given to them,
and they accepted them and truly understood that I came from you,
and they have believed that you sent me.

Reading the four canonical gospels, we get used to hearing Jesus scolding, berating, and chastising his disciples for their obtuseness, misunderstanding, and lack of faith. We learn from these frequent disciplines that we too would earn the same rough treatment were we in the presence of the historical Jesus before his death and resurrection, and probably for the same reasons. Our fears, lack of faith, despondency, and habitual jockeying for better position only prove how much we're like the twelve and the seventy two. 

So it's nice to hear in today's gospel Jesus prayer for us and his remark, "...they have kept your word." Well, we are still here. I guess that's something. 

Jesus describes us as a kind of oblation. The Father gave us to him, and he gives us back to the Father. We are their gift to one another, precious in the sight of the Father and the Son, and cherished by their Spirit of Love -- despite everything. 

We need to hear that fondness Jesus has for us. We may not be the best we can be, but we are his and he is pleased with us. As the Father is pleased with him and with us. 

His statement, "I revealed your name to those whom you gave me..." is odd because we know that Jesus never in his life pronounced the sacred Name of God, which we call the Tetragrammaton. (tetra- meaning four; and -grammaton meaning letters.) The word never appears in the New Testament, although it is often cited in the Old. The Jewish authors of the New Testament certainly knew of the word and maintained the same reverent reluctance to speak or write it; but it is largely unknown today to most Christians. (Unfortunately, that ignorance breeds contempt on the part of many who should gratefully share that profound reverence with our Jewish brethren.)

In the context of Saint John's Gospel, "your name" is the person of Jesus; for, as he said, "whoever has seen me has seen the Father." (John 14:9) 

In this gospel Jesus leads us deeper into the mystery of himself, and especially into that infinitely deep maelstrom which is his love of God. As we take up our crosses and follow him to Calvary we are drawn into that ever deepening whirlpool of love. It is beautiful, fascinating, and terrifying as we can neither resist its power nor endure its intensity. No sooner have we sworn absolute fidelity to our beloved Savior than we back away upon realizing its cost. Only gradually, if at all, does our daily prayer and habitual practice prepare us to pay the full price. 

But we are grateful to be here, and to hear the Lord's prayer for us. Like Lazarus, we would know, love, and obey his voice even from a moldering grave.

Monday of the Seventh Week of Easter

 Lectionary: 297

Do you believe now?
Behold, the hour is coming and has arrived
when each of you will be scattered to his own home
and you will leave me alone.
But I am not alone, because the Father is with me.
I have told you this so that you might have peace in me.

As his hour approached, Jesus spoke of the glory to be revealed on the morrow. When his disciples swear their readiness to go with him, his response - "Do you believe me now?" -- sounds amused. They may be ready to oppose his enemies so that they can share his victory. But they have no idea and cannot imagine what is about to happen. Even as it happens they will not believe what they're seeing. 

But before it happens they will be scattered, each to his own home like the Sanhedrin which had already sat in judgement about him. They too, as Saint John tells us, dispersed to their comfortable homes and domestic familiarity after deciding that Jesus must die. (John 7:53)

Jesus will undergo his trial, torture, and crucifixion alone. He will pass through the agony and pain of a tormented body without hesitation. He has no alternative and wants none. Nor can anyone go with him, although many will follow him, each through their own death, to join him. 

But Jesus insists that even as he is suspended between the earth that rejects him and the heaven that ignores him, he is not alone. "I am not alone because the Father is with me." 

Americans may be the loneliest people on earth. The Surgeon General of the United States, Dr. Vivek Murthy, believes that we are suffering, and many are dying of, an epidemic of loneliness. The abandonment that psychiatrists and counselors discover among their clients is universal. 

Many well-meaning, enlightened parents teach their children to expect and endure loneliness in solitary cribs in baby rooms far removed from the master bedroom. They rig up baby monitors as if a televised image and electronic voice from a distant room might replace the touch and feel of maternal and paternal human flesh. 

Children are isolated by the contests they must endure as their performance is graded a,b,c,d, or f. They're isolated by the threat of humiliation first in the classroom and on the playground, and then in social media. There is no safe place far from electronic surveillance where society cannot search out and destroy the assurances of unguarded musing and the integrity of one's body. 

Even physical pain is banned as it's assessed one to ten and treated like a problem that must be solved immediately. It's not okay, and never necessary, to suffer a little while. 

On the night before he died, Jesus assured his uncomprehending disciples that he would not be alone in his agony. "The Father is with me." Their communion will only grow more intense as death approaches. When the pain ceases he'll know he is dead, but he'll also know consummated love with suffering humanity and the One who created us.  

"You cannot go with me now," he said, "but I will return to take you with me." 

The Ascension of the Lord

 Lectionary: 58

In the first book, Theophilus,
I dealt with all that Jesus did and taught
until the day he was taken up,
after giving instructions through the Holy Spirit
to the apostles whom he had chosen.

No modern cinephile, playgoer, or novel readers should be surprised that Saint Luke wrote a sequel to his Gospel. Nor, for that matter, should they be astonished that all the New Testament writers recognize the Jewish scriptures as prequel to the life and story of Jesus. In real life there is never a moment we can call "the beginning," nor does anyone live in the endless bliss of happily ever after. 

But the Ascension of Jesus signaled a new relationship with the Nazarene, and a surprising flowering of his disciples. These men who were generally described as confused and bewildered, and sometimes hard hearted, unbelieving, and unfaithful, suddenly knew what to do. They had to retire to Jerusalem and the Upper Room, pray and wait. Wait for something. 

Meanwhile, hordes of pilgrims were streaming into the city and the temple as Pentecost, the Jewish feast approached. These Galileans were fortunate to have a safe place to stay together and ponder what it all means. They must also repair some of the damage of Judas's betrayal by restoring the Eleven to Twelve. Clearly, Jesus had named twelve; the number was very traditional whereas eleven was not. And there was no shortage of volunteers, although only two were fully qualified. 

They also knew they could not go back to the lives they had lived before. The fishermen could not fish, nor could the tax collectors resume their trade. The zealots must forget the weapons they once fondled; and the husbands, their wives. 

They remembered and often repeated the last words of Jesus: 

...you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you,

and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem,

throughout Judea and Samaria,

and to the ends of the earth.”

This power would more than gather a committee of men who individually can do nothing but as a group can decide that nothing can be done. Or a group of the unwilling, chosen from the unfit, to do the unnecessary. Nor would their elected leader be the least unwilling candidate, like those of many parish councils.

No, they were ready to do something. The Lord had trained them, and they had experience of doing his work. They had traveled ahead of him and announced his coming. They had cured the sick and cast out some demons. More importantly, they had suffered and survived a disheartening scandal which might have scattered them to the farthest corners of the earth in angry denial of ever having been a party to the Nazarene's  flimflammery. But, he rose from the dead he spoke of their announcing his Gospel to the ends of the earth. So they were ready. 

But it wasn't yet time. They must wait. They might act like Jesus, like actors mouthing Hamlet or King Lear. They might sing like Julie Andrews playing the nun Maria, or dance like Mikhail Baryshnikov as Don Quixote, but no one could be Jesus. No, they were still Peter, James, John, and so forth. To preach the gospel they must be themselves. They must be inspired and empowered. They felt neither. They must wait. They must pray.

The nine days between his Ascension and Pentecost have been called the first novena. The practice is deep in our Catholic tradition as we tally days, months, and years. The novena is a repeated, persistent, intentional prayer. We want, we hope, we act as we ask for God's mercy. Often, when the nine has expired, we know what to do, and we do it. Whereas, we didn't before. The sequel to all we've seen and heard and known before finally begins. 

Saturday of the Sixth Week of Easter

 Lectionary: 296

Amen, amen, I say to you,
whatever you ask the Father in my name he will give you.
Until now you have not asked anything in my name; ask and you will receive, so that your joy may be complete.

"What's the big deal around the name of Jesus?" a Catholic friend of mine asked. Saint Bernadine would have been horrified. And then he would have cited the above passage from Saint John, or any number of other scripture verses. 

Even atheists understand that naming friends, family, and acquaintances makes a difference. That's why we meet so many inveterate name-droppers. They'll eagerly tell of any one-time chance encounter with a Very Important Person.  

It's not what you know, it's who you know. Americans may claim to build a world by meritocracy with our diplomas, credentials, and experience but names open doors, and references are often more reliable than a ten-page CV. Why do so many work gangs consist of young Mexican men? Because an employer asks, "Have you got any brothers who work as hard as you do?" And, on the other hand, how many solid companies were destroyed when they hired a stranger with impeccable credentials? 

The secular atheist does not believe in God and does not factor God's presence, influence, or authority into their world. More often, they believe in fate, karma, or luck, which seem to be real gods, although distant and unsympathetic to human suffering. 

We ask the Father in the name of Jesus to go with us whenever we're sent into a difficult situation. We ask God to open doors for us, and often find Christian and Catholic friends wherever we go. There is indeed an expansive network of believers, and we know one another although we've never met. Some strangers have the name of Jesus on their foreheads and we recognize them readily. 

More often we ask God in the name of Jesus to empower our words, efforts, and presence because his favor changes things. We'll not get there on time, but we do get there in plenty of time because the Lord made it happen. The odds are against us but everything falls in place the way it should. Young people pray that the Lord will arrange a good match and fifty years later, the great-grandparents thank God for a marriage made in heaven. 

Saint Luke describes the Name of Jesus like a kind of sacrament. We must speak of it at home and abroad, whether we are busy or at rest. Like Saint Bernadine of Siena, the great Franciscan preacher, we invoke his Name continually for it opens the gates of heaven to those who are being saved. 

Friday of the Sixth Week of Easter

 Lectionary: 295

Do not be afraid.
Go on speaking, and do not be silent, for I am with you.
No one will attack and harm you,
for I have many people in this city.”

We can only imagine the joy Saint Paul felt in hearing these words from the Lord as he settled in Corinth. His eager preaching of the Gospel to Jews and gentiles had met serious opposition and he probably wondered if he might be doing more harm than good. As we heard yesterday, in great exasperation he had sworn at the Jewish opposition:

Your blood be on your heads!

I am clear of responsibility.

Perhaps the hour had not yet come for Corinth, that wild city of sailors, escaped slaves, traders, and trollops. Or perhaps he was not the right man for that city. A man of his intense seriousness, deep learning, and sophistication might never belong in a port city. 

But the vision of the Lord assured Paul that he was "doing just fine, and keep up the good work."  And besides, "...I have many people in this city."

It might take a while but Paul would find his people and his intense love for the city. His two letters "to the Corinthians" in the New Testament represent at least three different letters, and his understanding of their character. He looked forward to that day when he might boast of his people in Corinth even as they boast of the great apostle who came to them. 

Saint Luke's Acts of the Apostles often speaks of the Christians' constant prayers. They went nowhere and did nothing without the guidance of the Holy Spirit. Despite their incessant travel with all its hardships, confusion, and displacement they never stopped praying.  Apostolic zeal was no excuse for missing prayer. They brought their grief for the friends they'd recently left  to the Lord, as well as their anxieties over this latest relocation. Always they found their home in the heart of Jesus.

The scriptures teach us to bring our daily anxieties to prayer and to expect both relief and direction. Unlike Claudius who complained, 

My words fly up, my thoughts remain below; 

Words without thoughts never to heaven go. (Hamlet, Act 3, scene 3)

We can and must turn to the Lord daily, even as we shut out an army of perpetual distractions. We pray expecting both guidance and assurance. Employers, children, spouses, and pets may learn they're not so important as the Lord. Phone calls can be recorded; emails delayed, tweets and twits can be ignored. Anxiety can wait its turn. Confusion can be resolved as many decisions cannot be made today.  

We find our worth and meaning, our place and purpose in the Lord; and not in the demands of others. "Do not be afraid," the Lord said to Paul, "...for I am with you." 

Thursday of the Sixth Week of Easter

 Lectionary: 294

When [the Jews] opposed him and reviled him, [Paul] shook out his garments and said to them,
“Your blood be on your heads!
I am clear of responsibility. From now on I will go to the Gentiles.”

(Ascension Thursday is observed in the United States only in the dioceses of Boston, Hartford, New York, Newark, Omaha, and Philadelphia, and is a holy day of obligation in those sees.)

Since reading R. Kendall Soulen's Irrevocable, I read the Hebrew scriptures, especially the psalms, very differently. The Book of Psalms has always been regarded as the prayer book of the church; and we find the story, spirit, and person of Jesus in all of them. 

And I read Saint Paul's angry outburst differently: "“Your blood be on your heads! I am clear of responsibility. From now on I will go to the Gentiles.”

The Apostle could say these things but he was still a Jew, passionately dedicated and deeply rooted among his own people. He could no more disown his Jewish people than he could reverse his circumcision. 

As Christians these many centuries later, remembering our sad history of suspicion, fear, and violence against the Jews, we must seek and reclaim our own Jewish roots if we would know the Lord Jesus. Abraham is "our father in faith," and to disown him is to renounce the faith by which we are saved. 

There is much I do not understand when I read the Bible. Some of the its inferences, references, and meanings may be lost forever. Scholars pour through these texts, searching out the words and their etymologies in Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek. They discover the same words used differently in different centuries and cities, and by different authors; and wonder what did this author mean by this word. They search for the Hebrew origins and their Greek translations in the Septuagint. They discover and attempt to undo the copying errors of different ancient, fragile manuscripts. 

No one expects to find the original manuscript of any book of the bible, and that seems like a great loss. But we move on from there to ask, "Who wrote it, when, for whom, and how was it used? Why was it copied? Why were other original texts not copied? What made this one stand out as worthy of preservation? 

"Who sponsored the scribe who put it on paper? A wealthy individual or a prosperous community? What did they believe? How did they worship?"

And finally I ask of that ancient people, "May I join you in prayer? Will you have me as a member? May I stand with you in faith?" 

Paul had his quarrels, and we have ours. A good quarrel may clear the air, it needn't end a friendship or marriage, much less a covenanted community in faith. 

The split between the Jewish and Christian religions is historic and irreversible, but God's covenant with Jews and Christians is irrevocable. Christians believe our faith is fulfilled in the Incarnation, Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Jesus. We have seen him ascend into heaven and take his place at God's right hand. 

But, like every Christian and Jew, I have yet to fulfill my faith in God. In a calmer moment, and probably from a Roman jail somewhere, Saint Paul urged his people: 

So then, my beloved... work out your salvation with fear and trembling. For God is the one who, for his good purpose, works in you both to desire and to work. Do everything without grumbling or questioning, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you shine like lights in the world... (Philippians 2: 12ff)