Ascension of the Lord

Drops That Sparkle 

Acts 1:1-11; Ephesians 1:17-23; Matthew 28:16-20 

Two weeks ago, I had the pleasure and the privilege of accompanying our Eighth Graders on their class trip to New York City to see the Broadway musical, Aladdin. I love Broadway musicals. One of my favorites is called Camelot. It tells the story of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. In the final scene of this classic musical, Arthur stands on a hilltop overlooking what once was his glorious kingdom of Camelot. The kingdom now stands in ruins. So too in ruins are his dreams, his vision, the very principles on which he built Camelot. 

As Arthur surveys what remains of his kingdom, he hears a sound and orders whoever is hiding to make himself seen. From the darkness steps a boy of about twelve years of age. His name is Tom of the province of Warwick, and he announces to King Arthur that he has run away from home to become a member of the Knights of the Round Table. Amused, Arthur asks him why he wants to be a knight. Is it because his village was protected by knights or did his father serve a knight? Tom replies, “No.” He simply wants to become a knight because of the stories people tell of the knights. He then recites what amounts to a litany of the principles for which the knights and Camelot itself have stood: truth, honor, justice, a new order of chivalry: not might is right, but might for right. 

Arthur, filled with emotion that these principles have made such an impression on the boy, tells Tom that, as his king, he orders him not to fight in the battle that evening, but to return to England, to grow up and grow old. But in so doing, Arthur gives the boy a mission. In song, he tells him: 

“Each evening, from December to December,

Before you drift to sleep upon your cot,

Think back on all the tales that you remember

Of Camelot.

Ask every person if he’s heard the story

And tell it strong and clear if he has not, 

That once there was a fleeting wisp of glory 

Called Camelot. 

Where once it never rained till after sundown; 

By 8am the morning fog had flown.

Don’t let it be forgot

That once there was a spot

For one brief shining moment

That was known as Camelot!”

Arthur tells Tom to kneel, and then with his sword Excalibur, he bestows knighthood on him. Arthur’s friend, King Pellinore, startled at the sight of Arthur bestowing knighthood on such a young boy, interrupts Arthur and asks, “What are you doing? You have a battle to fight!” Arthur, pointing to the boy, exclaims: “I’ve fought my battle! I’ve won my battle! Here is my victory! What we have done will be remembered!” He then turns to Tom and bids him to return home behind the lines to become the keeper of the dream, the teller of the story. As the boy runs off, Pellinore, still confused asks, “Who was that, Arthur?” And King Arthur replies, “One of what we all are, Pellie - less than a drop in the great blue motion of the sunlit sea. But it seems that some of the drops sparkle, Pellie! Some of them do sparkle!”

This morning, in our first reading from the Acts of the Apostles and our Gospel from Matthew, Jesus, like King Arthur, stands on a hill (actually a mountain – Mount Olivet) near the city of Jerusalem. We’re not told in these readings whether or not Jesus surveyed the city, but we’re told elsewhere in the Gospels that at other times he did. So it’s not a stretch of the imagination that he might have done so this time as well. And if he did, as he looked down on Jerusalem, what did he see? A city that had rejected him . . . the message that he came to bring . . . the kingdom he came to establish . . . the principles that were to be its hallmark - things like: “love your enemies; pray for those who persecute you,” “forgive seventy times seven times,” “the greatest is the one who serves.”

Like King Arthur, Jesus probably felt like a failure; he had been rejected and crucified by the very people he loved, the very ones he came to save. But also like Arthur, he is not alone on that mountain. With him are his Apostles. And in them he sees the future of the Church. In them he sees the drops that will sparkle on the sunlit sea. And as King Arthur bid Tom of Warwick to go and tell the story, so does Jesus. He entrusts his vision and dreams to them, and tells them, “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.”

Like the Apostles, Jesus calls us up the mountain. And there, he sees in us the same thing that King Arthur saw in Tom, the same thing he saw in his Apostles: Hope. Energy. Passion. Commitment. It is us, like the Apostles that Jesus sends out: to remember . . . to tell his story . . . to live his story . . . to make a difference . . . to bring about change . . . to re-create the world in his image . . . to establish, not Camelot, but the Kingdom of God. 

This is especially true of our eighth graders who, in two weeks, will leave the mountain called “St. Therese’s” and begin their journey to the distant lands of Morris Catholic, Pope John XXIII, Seton Hall Prep, Villa Walsh, Sussex Vo Tech, and Roxbury, Randolph, Mount Olive, and Lenape Valley High Schools. You are the drops that Jesus calls to sparkle on the sunlit sea of the future. You are the ones He commissions to “teach all nations” by your word and most especially by your example. You are the ones that He sends out to baptize others - with your love and compassion, with your mercy and generosity, with your hope and sincerity, all of which find their source and origin in His Most Sacred Heart. 

There’s one other thing that Jesus told his Apostles on that mountain. It was a promise: “Behold, I am with you always, even to the end of time.” That promise He also makes to all of us today. We never have to feel afraid. Never have to feel lonely. Never have to feel like we go it alone. Never have to feel that we’re not good enough. Never have to feel that we can’t get past our mistakes and failures. Because Jesus is here . . . With us . . . Always . . . Loving us . . . Guiding us . . . Forgiving us. 

And so, like Tom of Warwick and like the Apostles, let us come down off our mountains. Let us run safely behind the lines . . . behind the lines of Sacred Scripture. Let us be true to ourselves . . . Let us be true to who God created us to be . . . Let us be true to the mission that He has given us - to be the keeper of His Dream, the teller of His Story. 

God wants us to sparkle!

Sixth Sunday of Easter (Cycle A)

You in Me - I in You

Acts 8:5-8, 14-17; 1Peter 3:15-18; John 14:15-21 

"Where is God?"

If you were to ask that question of a little child, he or she might point upward and say "God is up in heaven."

If you were to ask an older child that same question, and you happened to be driving along Main Street, that boy or girl might point here, to this building, and say "God is there, in church, that's God's house."

If you were to ask an adult that question, that person might answer that God can be found in the scriptures, in the sacraments, and in other people.

Each one of those answers is correct. God is in heaven, in church, in the scriptures, in the sacraments, and in other people. We can point to those things and people as places where God may be found. But I doubt any of us if we were asked "Where is God?" would point to ourselves and say "God is right here, in me." Yet this Sunday's Gospel might lead us to give that very answer.

There Jesus says, the Father will give us "the Spirit of truth . . . you know him, because he remains with you, and will be in you." Then Jesus goes on to say, "I will come to you . . . you will realize that I am in my Father and you are in me and I in you." Those words in the Gospel indicate that God dwells within us. That is something that begins with the Sacrament of Baptism by which we become children of God, members of the Body of Christ, and dwelling places of the Holy Spirit. We are reminded that God is in us each time we receive the Eucharist. We are united with Christ in one "holy communion" as he comes to us in consecrated bread and wine.

God dwells within us, and God's presence becomes more and more apparent the more we love God and keep the commandments that Jesus Christ has given us. As he says "Whoever has my commandments and observes them is the one who loves me." And what are his commandments? To love as he loved, to forgive as he forgave, to serve as he served. The more we do those things the more the presence of God shines forth from us.

“You in Me – I in You.” This is Jesus message of good news for us today.
“You in Me – I in You.” No matter what the future holds, we will never be alone.
“You in Me – I in You.” We have purpose and meaning to life because we are loved by God.
“You in Me – I in You.” We have purpose and meaning to life because God loves us and the natural

                                      outcome of that is that we love God and love one another.
“You in Me – I in You.” “If you love me you will keep my commandments.”

What is it for Jesus to be "In" us, or us to be "In" Jesus? We can get some idea of it from a popular phrase we use today. We speak of people really "getting into" something. She really "gets into" her job as doctor, for example. That means, she gives her heart and soul to the work; it consumes her energy and becomes a great passion; she gives it everything she’s got. If we say, "He’s really into football," we know that his wife had better watch out come Sundays from September to February because everything else goes on the back burner. To get into something is to make it your own, to intertwine your deepest self with it, to - in a way - ingest it.

Now Jesus promises that kind of closeness with the coming of the Spirit. Jesus being "In" the Father; Jesus being "In" us; and we - through the presence, working, guiding, prodding, teaching, leading, caring and protecting of the Spirit -- becoming "In" God.

Think of it - God "getting into" you! We're not just talking about a vague influence. We're not speaking about some hazy inspirational strength that one would gain from the memory of Christ and his example on earth. It’s far deeper. Far closer. Far more mysterious. And far more intimate than that.

Jesus, through the words of our Gospel, is meeting us this morning with a message of a Person, a divine Person, who will be by our sides . . . to be our strength in all weakness, our Peace in all trouble, our Wisdom in all darkness, our Guide in all confusion, our Comforter, our source of Righteousness when sin is strong, the Giver of Victory over temptation, our Companion and Friend in moments of great loneliness.

We're talking about a Divine Spirit-Being, God the Holy Spirit, coming so close to believers that he touches their very hearts, a heart-to-heart relationship, sharing in the most intimate, deepest manner possible. “You in Me – In in You.”

In Matthew’s Gospel, in the account of his conception, we are reminded that Jesus is Emmanuel, “God with us.” We proclaim that in song each week during the Advent season. But here, in today’s Gospel, Jesus reveals that the Good News is even better than that. He is not only, “God WITH us;” he is “God IN us,” a presence so intimate that his Holy Spirit empowers, enlivens, energizes, inspires and sends us out, just as Jesus himself was sent to make the Father known. It can be frightening and seem an insurmountable task. But Jesus assures that we will not be left orphaned.

“You in Me – I in You”. Let that be our mantra. Let it run constantly through our minds this week. In our work and in our leisure . . . in moments of grace and occasions of temptation . . . in our struggles with sadness, loneliness, failure and fatigue . . . in our experiences of joy, acceptance, success and energy . . . in times when we worry about our health or when we take it for granted . . . when we appreciate our blessings, or when we pray for our needs . . . as we take the presence of God to the people who enrich our lives, and to those that challenge our patience. “I in You – You in Me.”

"Where is God?" To answer that question we can point to heaven. We can point to the church and to others. But just as surely, if we’re keeping God's word, we can point to ourselves! Perhaps St. Patrick said it best in this prayer attributed to him:

Christ with me. Christ before me. Christ behind me. Christ in me. 

Christ beneath me. Christ above me. Christ on my right. Christ on my left.
Christ when I lie down. Christ when I sit down. Christ when I arise.
Christ in the heart who thinks of me. Christ in the mouth that speaks of me. 
Christ in the eye that sees me. Christ in the ear that hears me.

Where is God? Closer than we ever realized.

Third Sunday of Easter (Cycle A)

The Jesus Who Stays

Acts 2:14, 22-33; 1 Peter 1:17-21; Luke 14:13-35

It was the same road, the same people — but the experience changed their direction and destination. It was the same road, the same seven miles between Jerusalem and Emmaus — but the speed of their return was different. It was the same road, the same two disciples — but there was something new and different about them.

On the way to Emmaus, they experienced sadness, disappointment and hopelessness. They whispered the hopes that had filled their hearts that maybe this Jesus was the Messiah that faithful Jews had been waiting for so long. They had hoped, and so they had followed. Then, paralyzed by terror, they had seen Jesus arrested; driven through the streets like a common criminal; crucified… along with all their hopes and dreams for the people Israel. Even the report of the women that Christ’s tomb was empty didn’t raise their spirits; it only confused them even more. And so, on that first day of the week, reeling from all that had happened, there was nothing left to do but go home. Those seven miles never seemed so long.

But the situation was different on their return to Jerusalem. The two felt overwhelming joy and hope. They had a clear focus and determination to tell what they had experienced. The two felt an urgency. There was no time to waste. And those seven miles were never traveled in such a short time.

What happened on that road? An apparent stranger accompanied them along the way. And he turned out to be their risen Lord, Jesus Christ. And Jesus transformed these two disheartened people into "burning hearts."

In today’s gospel, we are told the name of one of the Emmaus-bound travelers – Cleopas. And the other? Well, the other is you. Or me. Luke left a blank space for us to fill in our own names because today’s Gospel is meant to remind us that we too are on a journey, a journey on which we often carry disappointments, dashed hopes, crumbled plans, insecurities, sufferings and sorrows. And on that journey, Jesus also comes to meet us, walks with us, and stays with us. He is there, but he is not recognized. He is there, but we do not see him. In good times and bad, in wakeful awareness and sleepy dreams, in moments of defeat, in the thrill of victory, in the dark night of the soul and the mountaintop experience, in the everyday, ordinary, mundane, run-of-the-mill, and in the knock-your-socks-off, spectacular, momentous, takes-your-breath-away moments of our lives, God is here, in our midst. God is a present God, an immanent God, a mysterious God who lives simultaneously beyond us, around us, and within us.

But that’s the problem isn’t it? That which is always and everywhere present quickly slips beyond our awareness and just becomes the taken-for-granted background that we ignore as we live our lives. And so, Christ walks with us on the road or sits with us at the table, and we fail to recognize him.

How often are we are like those Emmaus-bound travelers? How often have we failed to recognize Christ when he knocks on our door or comes to us in his many different disguises? How often have we rejected his message because it seems too improbable or demanding? How often have we failed to see his hand at work in the events of our daily lives? How often have we willfully chosen to ignore his will for us? How often have we missed him because we failed to look beyond appearance, and failed to see his presence in bread and wine?

Our Gospel today presents to us four ways that we are called to recognize the Lord. The first way that God is present to the disciples in today's Gospel was in the community of believers. Our Gospel begins with the two disciples walking along the road. But they are not alone. Jesus once said, “When two or three are gathered in my name, I will be there with them.” And He was with them, and He is with us. God is present with us when we come together a thousand strong in this Church as well as when two or three of us get together to pray together. God is present when you help your children say their bedtime prayers. He is present when a family says grace before meals. He is present when a husband and wife say prayers together.

The second way that God is present to the disciples on the road to Emmaus was in the proclamation of scripture. Jesus explained to them the meaning of scripture. The Bible is the Word of God. Yet, the Word has become flesh in Jesus Christ. The thing that makes the Bible a mystical book is the presence of Jesus, the Word of God, presenting the truth of God in the hearts of those open to his word. All of us should have a Bible, place it in positions of honor within our homes, and should read from it often. It should be read with reverence, allowing the power beneath the words to enter our lives, to transform us, to pierce our hearts like that two edged sword that the author of the Letter to the Hebrews spoke of when he wrote: "Indeed, the word of God is living and effective, sharper than any two-edged sword, penetrating even between soul and spirit, joints and marrow, and able to discern reflections and thoughts of the heart."

The third way that the disciples on the road to Emmaus met the Lord was when they shared the breaking of the bread with him. Using the same words as the Last Supper, Jesus broke the bread, gave it to them to eat, and they recognized his presence. We receive communion weekly, some even daily. Through our faith, we recognize Jesus present in this sacrament, strengthening us to proclaim his presence to the world just as the disciples at Emmaus were strengthened to run to Jerusalem and tell the disciples, "We have seen the Lord." There is no way that we could ever fathom the power of the Eucharist to help us to proclaim with our lives that Jesus is alive, risen from the dead, alive in our hearts.

And lastly, Jesus came to the two disciplines on the road to Emmaus as a stranger. Christ is found in the midst of everyday life. The sacred moments, the moments of miracle, are often everyday moments, the moments we often chalk up to "coincidence." But for the pure of heart, coincidence is merely when God chooses to remain anonymous.  In every moment, God is here, loving us, shaping us, sanctifying us. Jesus often comes at the times, in the places, and in the guises which we least expect.  He might appear to us in a friend who comes in the midst of our pain, and sits and listens; He might be the one who believes in us. He might be the person who offers the help or advice that we have been seeking. And he is in the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, the sick, the prisoner, and all those who society tosses aside and considers the "least ones."

Easter is the reminder that Jesus stays, and Emmaus is the reminder that we miss it! He was with the disciples on the road, but they didn’t know it! It was only when they invited Jesus to stay that they began to see his presence in a new way. They made room in their lives for him to be recognized, to be more than a once-upon-a-time memory. They invited Jesus to stay with them. And that’s what we need to do, too! We need to do it every day! Do you see him?