Fifth Sunday of Lent (Year A)

THE UNPREACHED HOMILY 

IF IT’S NOT ALL RIGHT 

THEN IT’S NOT YET THE END OF THE STORY 

Ezekiel 37: 12-14; Romans 8: 8-11; John 11: 1-45 

Something unusual happened this month . . . well A LOT of unusual things have happened this month! But I’m not referring to what you probably think I’m referring to. Usually, at the end of the month or the very beginning of a new month, the priests and deacons receive their schedule – who is assigned to what mass on a particular Sunday. But whereas this month’s schedule listed the priests’ assignments . . . Fr. Rick would say this Mass, Fr. Dulibber that Mass, Fr. Jorge one of the others . . . the deacons weren’t assigned to any! Of course I’m still trying to figure out if this was a mistake, or if Fr. Rick was not-so-subtly trying to tell Deacon Joe and I something, or if somehow the secretaries in the rectory had prior knowledge of the coming pandemic that the rest of us didn’t have. But the really strange thing is that Deacon Joe and I were assign to one weekend – this one – to preach. Reflecting on that the other day, I kind of started wondering if maybe God’s hand is somewhere in that . . . that, despite the pandemic and despite the fact that I’m not in church right now standing at the pulpit, there’s something important that God wants me to say and something important that he wants you to hear. 

One of three things usually happens when I first read over the Scripture passages I’m scheduled to preach on. Sometimes – VERY RARELY – I’ll read the readings and I’ll run, (well actually I haven’t run since 1991 . . . so maybe rush is a better word) to my computer and the homily practically writes itself. I somehow miraculously, and with little effort or deep reflection, know exactly what I want to say and how I want to say it. But more often then not, I’ll read the Scripture, scratch my head and say, “Now what exactly am I supposed to say about this!” And I’ll spend many painful hours praying and reflecting until somehow – again perhaps miraculously – God clues me in with the message he wants me to hear, the one he wants you to hear as well. But sometimes, I’ll read the Gospel passage and it’s so rich, there’s just so much in there, I’m confronted with another altogether different dilemma: of all that God has revealed in that particular passage, what’s the one element he wants me to focus on. 

That was my struggle this weekend. There’s just SO MUCH in John’s narrative of the raising of Lazarus. There are so many elements that make this story so compelling - not the least of which is that Jesus brought a dead man back to life! 

But the story also reveals that Jesus, who loved everyone, also had some best friends. St. John points out clearly that Jesus had a special love for, and a particular relationship with, Martha and Mary and Lazarus. 

There’s also the revelation of Jesus’ humanity, captured in the shortest verse in the whole Bible, just three words: And Jesus wept. (John 11:35) 

This gospel also tells us, not once but twice, that Jesus was perturbed. This is a one-word translation of the three Greek words ἐνεβριμήσατο τῷ πνεύματι, which would be better translated: “he was deeply moved and shuddered in his spirit.” This was clearly an emotional moment in the life and ministry of Jesus. 

And yet, the element, the verse, the words in this story that caught my greatest attention are these: “he remained in the place where he was for two days.” His special friends, Martha and Mary, had sent word to him that his beloved Lazarus was dying, yet “he remained in the place where he was for two days.” And both Mary and Martha ultimately let Jesus know exactly how they felt about this delay. Both said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” 

But Jesus waited two days before setting out for Bethany and when he finally got there, Lazarus had already died. Perhaps Jesus’ delay tested the faith of Martha and Mary - at least I’m sure that his delay stretched and deepened their faith. For even after her dead brother had been buried, Martha said, “Even now, Lord, I believe God will give you what you ask for.” Not even the death and burial of her brother shook her faith in God. 

Of course, this story has a happy and miraculous ending: Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead. But we can’t forget that later, we don’t know exactly when, Lazarus died a second time and that time Jesus didn’t come to open up a tomb. Jesus gave him the gift of that life which is forever . . . eternal . . . one of indescribable joy . . . one of inexplicable peace . . . one of ultimate and profound love. 

The fact that Jesus delayed going to Bethany for two days strikes me because I’ve known that same delay in my own life and I’m sure you have known it in your life as well. How many times have we wanted, needed something good to happen; wanted, needed for Jesus to get on the road and come to our home, our family, our hearts. How many times have we wondered, have we prayed, have we cried: “JESUS, WHERE ARE YOU?” How many times have we asked, “JESUS, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?” “JESUS, GET A MOVE ON!” “JESUS, WON’T YOU PLEASE DO SOMETHING?” 

Are you, like Martha and Mary, waiting for Jesus to come? Have you been waiting two days? Two weeks? Two months? Two years? Or twenty-two years or more? Because I don’t know, I can’t tell you why he delays in coming. But I can assure you, that he knows you’re waiting . . . waiting for something good to happen . . . and that he WILL, finally, come, and that ALL shall be well . . . that all shall be well and that all manner of things shall be well . . . And that as the saying goes: “Everything will be all right in the end. If it’s not all right, it is not yet the end of the story.” 

And today, we are not in church together. You’re not in your usual pew and I’m not now standing at the ambo. You’re in your home and I’m in mine – separated . . . fearful . . . keeping safe social distancing from each other. You’re in your home and I’m in mine – having to be content watching Mass on our televisions, or our computers or our phones. You’re in your home and I’m in mine – watching FOX or CNN, listening to the so-called experts offer us conflicting predictions of when this will all end . . . when safety will once again come to our town . . . to our country . . . to our world. You’re in your home and I’m in mine – and we, like Mary and Martha cry out, “LORD, WHERE ARE YOU?” “LORD, WHY ARE YOU DELAYED?” “WHEN WILL YOU ARRIVE, LORD?” “WHEN WILL YOU BESTOW YOUR LOVING, HEALING TOUCH TO OUR LIVES AND TO OUR WORLD” “LORD, WHEN WILL THE STONE OF THE CORONAVIRUS BE ROLLED BACK AND WE WILL HEAR YOUR CALM, STRONG, REASSURING VOICE BIDDING US TO COME OUT OF OUR TOMBS, THAT ALL IS WELL?” “WHEN, LORD, WHEN? WE HAVE WAITED MORE THEN TWO DAYS . . . WE HAVE WAITED MORE THAN TWO WEEKS. WHEN, O LORD, WILL YOU ARRIVE? 

Only God can answer those questions that are in your heart and are in mine. But we have his word . . . we have his eternal promise, “I will be with you always, yes even to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20). We have the assurance from Him that God has never abandoned his people, that He is a God of power and might, that He is a God of goodness and love, that He is a God who hears AND ANSWERS his people. And maybe, like Martha and Mary, in our wait, we are being called to stretch and deepen our faith. 

So many times during the season of Lent, we hear the words of the prophet Isaiah recalled for us, words which speak of the coming Messiah as the Suffering Servant of God. So in the midst of our suffering, let us recall that Jesus knows well our sufferings, for he too suffered, and he too, on the cross, felt abandoned. But let us also be reminded of something else Isaiah said, and let it console us in these times as we wait: 

“But those who wait for the Lord shall 

renew their strength, 

they will sprout wings like eagles, 

they shall run and not be weary, 

They shall walk and not faint”. (Isaiah 40:31)

Of Paranoia, Pandamonium and Pandemics . . . THE BEST LENT EVER

OF PARANOIA, PANDAMONIUM AND PANDEMICS . . . 

THE BEST LENT EVER 

A REFLECTION 

The Third Week of Lent . . . halfway through our journey to the cross and to the tomb. And what a strange journey it has been so far – a Lent like no other we’ve ever experienced in our lifetime – one of fear and paranoia, of pandemonium and pandemics. Who could have imagined on Ash Wednesday, three weeks ago, that words like “social distancing,” “curfew,” “quarantine,” and “lockdown” would become part of our day-to-day vocabulary. Who could have imagined three weeks ago that schools would be closed, shopping malls would be shut down, shelves in supermarkets would be empty and things like toilet paper and bottled water would be hoarded? And three weeks ago, who ever would have envisioned in their worst nightmare that something as beloved to us as the celebration of the Mass, the Sacraments and cherished traditions like the Stations of the Cross would be suspended. Yes, a Lent like we’ve never known. BUT maybe, in the midst of the Lent like we’ve never known, perhaps . . . just maybe . . . perchance . . . we are being called to experience the BEST LENT EVER. Perhaps, this year, our Lord wants something more of us. Just maybe he doesn’t want the easy, well-scheduled, pre-packaged Lents of the past passively received in our hands from Father or Deacon or by Mother Church herself. Perchance this Lent we are being called to a sacrifice that costs us more, to a prayer that is more sincere and fervent, to a love that struggles and is more demanding. A DIFFERENT KIND OF LENT . . . more creative, more spiritual, more powerful, more transformational. 

The three pillars of Lent are prayer, fasting (sacrifice), and almsgiving (charity). Let’s relook at each of these in light of the situation we find ourselves in this Lent: 

Prayer 

• Reach Out and Touch: This is not a time when we should be “social distancing” ourselves from God. Rather we should be using this time as an opportunity to draw closer to our Lord, and to do the very thing we’ve been told to avoid doing to each other: to touch him . . . to place ourselves more and more into his hands and, conversely, to open our hands to receive him in our lives - to allow him to touch us, to have a union with him that is deep and intimate. 

• Boredom: Is boredom one of the consequences you’re feeling because of the inflicted or self-imposed lockdown? Can’t escape to the mall, no play dates, no school, no dance or sporting activities for the kids, no romantic meals in a favorite restaurant, no get-a-way vacations. STUCK - surrounded by the same four walls day in and day out, week after week – BORED! You know, I’ve often viewed boredom as a gift. I think sometimes God gifts us boredom as an opportunity to have a relationship with him. God knows human nature better than we do and God knows how busy we are. And so, he gives us boredom as time to fit Him into our lives. In our twenty-first century society, we’ve invented lots of ways to deal with boredom. We call it social media: Facebook, Instagram, Tik Tok, texting, etc. Bored? Just reach for your cell phone – there’s an app for that! But how about transforming boredom into sacred time instead? How about using it as the time we lift our minds, our hearts, our souls, our words to God in prayer? And rather than technology running interference with our relationship with God, maybe it can now enhance our relationship with Him. There’s lots of apps out there that we can use to help us pray the Rosary or the Divine Mercy Chaplet, to read scripture, to meditate, or even to set the mood in prayer with reflective music. May I recommend to you the Relevant Radio app and also Dr. Edward Sri’s weekly podcast, All Things Catholic (https://edwardsri.com/all-things-catholic/) and Bishop Robert Baron’s meditations on the Stations of the Cross (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pJNjtA-Awb4 )

• The Domestic Church: In the early Church, in the face of persecutions by the Roman government and Jewish leaders, house churches were places where the early Christians gathered in safety for the “breaking of the bread” (the Eucharist). After Emperor Constantine legalized Christianity with the Edict of Milan in 313 AD, Christians no longer needed to celebrate the Eucharist in the secret security of their homes and now were free to venture out in safety and erect church buildings to worship in, such as we have today. In our present situation, when the celebration of the Mass in our parish churches has been suspended, a wonderful opportunity has been presented to us - a gift: to transform our homes into house churches, sacred spaces to praise God, to listen to his Word, and to become united with our Lord through a Spiritual Communion. And so, I encourage you to worship at mass through the masses broadcast on television, radio and the internet. Many parishes, including our own, have begun to livestream the celebration of the Eucharist. The website: www.mass-online.org lists all the televised Masses that are available and allows you to simply click a link to watch them. But let’s be careful with our attitudes about these Masses . . . Let’s not just watch as if it were an entertainment. Let’s participate in the Mass by praying the responses out loud, by sitting and kneeling and standing just as we would if we attending Mass in church. And, deprived of receiving the physical Eucharist, let’s not forget to offer the prayer of Spiritual Communion: 

My Jesus, 

I believe that You 

are present in the Most Holy Sacrament. 

I love You above all things, 

and I desire to receive You into my soul. 

Since I cannot at this moment 

receive You sacramentally, 

come at least spiritually into my heart. I embrace You as if You were already there and unite myself wholly to You. Never permit me to be separated from You. 

Amen. 

Perhaps after the Mass suspension is lifted, we will return to our church with a greater appreciation and a greater love for that of which we have been deprived.

• “The Family that Prays Together Stays Together.” That was a popular saying when I was growing up, coined by Fr. Patrick Peyton, the “Rosary Priest,” the founder of the Family Rosary Crusade. Saints, popes, and the Blessed Virgin Mary herself, at Fatima, stressed both the importance and the benefits of praying the Rosary. Next to the Mass itself, the Rosary is the most powerful prayer we have. If you currently don’t, why not start praying it? What have you got to lose except maybe twenty minutes of your time? And why not pray it as a family? If you do, you will be giving your children a powerful tool, a wonderful tradition and a beautiful memory that they will cherish for the rest of their lives. 

Sacrifice 

“Offer It Up!” How many times I heard that as a kid by my mom and by the nuns who taught me in school! Offer it up! Offer up the headache, the cold, the inconveniences, the heartaches, the disappoints as a sacrifice. Uniting our sacrifices with that of Jesus’ on the cross has great spiritual benefit. Offer it up! It’s a notion that, sadly, is lost in our world today. In a world of pleasure and immediate gratification, I doubt very much our children have ever heard it, much less know what it means. Lent is a time of sacrifice, and this year it seems we’re being called upon to sacrifice a lot more than cookies, candy and chips, wine before dinner and meat on Fridays. What we are being asked to sacrifice is great: social interaction, school, social engagements, the freedom to be where we want when we want, the foods we crave but are now sold out at ShopRite. And perhaps the greatest sacrifice of the all – attendance at mass and participation in the Sacraments. We’re being called to sacrifice more than we want, more than we ever had to before. But let’s make these things more than just sacrifices; let’s make them offerings. Let’s offer them up for our health, the health of those who have contracted the virus, for the doctors and nurses who selflessly treat them, for those who are feeling more alone than ever, for the people we love, for the things that we need, for the person we said we would pray for but never did, for the Church, for our priests (and maybe even for a certain deacon you know). Let our sacrifices ascend to the throne of God like burning incense and be united with the cross of Christ and have the power to transform us and the whole world. 

“For you do not desire sacrifice or I would give it; 

a burnt offering you would not accept. 

My sacrifice, O God, is a contrite spirit; 

a contrite, humbled heart, O God, you will not scorn.” (Psalm 51: 19-19) 

Almsgiving 

“Charity Begins at Home.” With quarantines, lockdowns and curfews being put into effect, we may be temporarily prohibited from practicing the almsgiving, the acts of charity, that we had planned to: bringing Communion to the sick, visiting the elderly and homebound, serving in a soup kitchen, volunteering at Roxbury Social Services, etc. And along with quarantines, lockdowns and curfews comes forced family time, which to some may be a blessing and to others may be a curse. Being realistic, the stress that we’re all experiencing, and all that “togetherness,” may result in short fuses, hot heads, sharp tongues, icy glares and fiery stares. Through it all, let’s remember that charity begins at home. And so, this Lent, maybe our Lord is asking us to practice having generous spirits, the patience of a saint, a little more understanding, a lot more love and a heap of compassion, with a bit of empathy thrown in. Jesus said, “This is how all will know that you are my disciples, by the love you have for one another.” (John 13:35). In these difficult times, let this be true in how we treat each other, and, especially, how we treat the members of our own family. 

Finally, a warning: I have heard some people say that all that we are going through, especially being deprived of the Mass, the Eucharist and the Sacrament of Reconciliation, is the work of Satan. DON’T! Please STOP! To do so impowers Satan by giving him the credit (or the blame). It credits him with being more powerful than he is. Whereas I’m sure Satan is reveling in the fact that we are now deprived of receiving the Eucharist and going to Confession, he isn’t the cause of it. Did Satan create the corona virus? Nope, Satan doesn’t have that ability. He’s not a creator, only a destroyer. Are our bishops now evil collaborators with Satan that they now deny us access to the Mass and Sacraments? Nope, just good shepherds who care for the health of their flock, who, like a parent, have been called upon to make difficult and perhaps unpopular decisions out of love. The will of Man is temporary . . . the will of God is eternal. Let’s not let fear or disappointment blind us to the truth: God is in control; only He is the All Powerful One, not Satan. And NOTHING “neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8: 38-39). 

And so, yes . . . A DIFFERENT KIND OF LENT. Maybe nature itself mirrors this. On Monday, driving to work, I noticed the forsythia in bloom. Never can I remember them in bloom this early! Forsythia, for me, is always the first sign of spring. SPRING . . . from death NEW LIFE! And isn’t that what Lent and Easter are really all about?

First Sunday of Lent (Year A)

SLOW DOWN . . . DESERT AHEAD

Genesis 2: 7-9, 3: 1-7; Romans 5: 12. 17-19; Matthew 5: 12, 17-19

Today is the First Sunday of Lent. During the next six weeks we will devote special attention to the saving mysteries of our faith, especially to the supreme sacrifice that Christ Our Lord made to set us free. The next six weeks are like a musical composition. On a piece of sheet music, in the upper left-hand corner above the notes, the composer writes a word. This word tells the musician or singer what speed the music should be. If it says "presto," that means, "sing it fast." But if the composer writes the word "LENTO" it means to “slow down. Take this slowly." Our word "Lent" has the same root. It means, SLOW DOWN, and take life more slowly. 

In today’s gospel we read that after he was baptized Jesus was "led by the Spirit into the desert for forty days.” And just as Jesus went out into the desert, away from the busy-ness of the crowds and daily life, to be alone with his Father and to do battle with Satan, Jesus calls us to do the same. He invites us to take a few short weeks out of our daily routine and to slow down - to spend more "quality-time" with God in prayer and reflection; to take a personal, honest and searching inventory of our lives. What patterns of good are there? What patterns in my life -- the obvious ones and those that are more subtle -- make me less than loving and faithful in my relationship with God and others? 

So, whether it be in the private disciplines of fasting and prayer or attendance at the quiet reflective rituals of Stations of the Cross or Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament; whether it be in devoting time to some volunteer work in the community or here at church, or in making time to read some biblical, devotional, inspirational literature - Lent is the time for our own personal desert experience. We cannot all afford to buy a camel and head off for the desert. But we can all create a desert space in our overcrowded lives. We can set aside a place and time to be alone daily with God, a time to distance ourselves from the many noises and voices that bombard our lives every day, a time to hear God’s word, a time to rediscover who we are before God, a time to say yes to God and no to Satan as Jesus did. 

And so, let's slow down a little for the next several weeks. Jesus spent forty days in the desert. The same length of time is offered to us to step back from the noise and clamoring and despair of civilization and life, and focus instead on God, to choose what is right and good and just and loving. If we take the time to look honestly at our lives, and to take note of our blessings and our shortcomings, with God's help we will be better for that effort. We will be better able to remember and celebrate at the end of our forty-day desert experience the great things the Father has done for us through the death and resurrection of his Son. 

And so . . . Welcome to Lent! Welcome to the desert!

Ash Wednesday

CTRL + ALT + DELETE 

Joel 2: 12-18; 2 Corinthians 5: 20-6:2; Matthew 6: 1-6, 16-18 

Well, here we are on the first day of Lent. Lent always seems to sneak up on us and catch us by surprise, doesn’t it? No matter if Ash Wednesday is early or late, we always seem to have the same reaction: “Oh my goodness! I can’t believe it’s Lent already!” While Christmas is something that we eagerly anticipate, I can’t ever remember hearing anyone saying: “Oh man, I can’t wait for Lent! Prayer, fasting, abstinence, sacrifice, mortification of the body! YES!!!” 

The word lent comes from the Latin word lento, which means “slow down.” And maybe that word fits most, or at least some of us this morning. We’ve slowed down, perhaps even come to a standstill. Physically, because of the cold, less sunlight, our lives have become more sedentary, less active. We don’t want to go out and face the cold so we stay in. And all the activities that we normally enjoy - outdoor sports like golf, tennis, soccer, baseball, and even some of the work that we enjoy, like gardening, go on a temporary hiatus until the warmth of the spring and summer sudden tell us it’s safe to come out of our winter hibernation. Even our social lives take a hit, as we prefer a quiet night by the fireplace than the cold trek through the frozen tundra to visit relatives and friends. 

And unfortunately, our spiritual lives can also slow down or come to a standstill as well, not just in winter but in any season of our lives. The fervor that coincided with the reception of a Sacrament, a retreat experience, a moving homily or a prayer answered can quickly be cooled off by the problems and tragedies that confront us, or simply (and most often) through lack of effort – we simply become too busy, too tired, too overwhelmed, too distracted, too bored to do what’s necessary to maintain our spiritual lives (or more importantly, for it to grow deeper). And so, our spiritual lives slow down, get stuck. 

I know what to do when my computer slows down, freezes or gets stuck. It needs to reboot. And I know I can do that by hitting three keys on my computer simultaneously: CTRL + ALT + DELETE. And maybe Lent is the time for us to do the same thing - not with our computers but with our lives. 

What do I mean? During Lent, we’re asked to CONTROL . . . to control ourselves, to control our appetites, to control our habits, to control the things we over-indulge in, to control those things that we like and which give us some degree of pleasure. And so, Lent is a time of SACRIFICE, of giving up . . . as a Church, giving up meat on Fridays . . . but as individuals, giving up those things that might cost us a little bit – not money, but pleasure: the cookies, the candy, the chips, the soda, Facebook or Instagram, online gaming, the alcohol, the cigarettes, the drugs, the gossip, the foul language, the porno. By its nature, a sacrifice is not meant to be easy; it hurts a little bit. Why sacrifice? Well we only need to look at the cross for the answer to that one. Jesus sacrificed his life for us. It wasn’t easy. It hurt a lot. And anything that we sacrifice, and any pain or inconvenience associated with it, is far less than the supreme sacrifice Jesus made FOR US on the cross. 

Lent is also the time when we should hit the ALT key in our lives . . . to ALTERNATE, to shake things up, to change what we normally do, to live life a little bit differently. And so during Lent we’re invited to add something to our daily routine, something that will put demands on us – something that demands our time and something that demands our effort. Maybe it means spending more time with your family . . . or . . . more time with God. Maybe it means daily prayer if that’s not your routine . . . or more time in prayer if it is . . . maybe praying the Rosary every day and reciting the Sorrowful Mysteries, since all of them focus on the suffering and death of our Lord. Maybe it means coming to Mass every Sunday if you don’t . . . or coming to daily Mass if you already do. Maybe it means attending the Stations of the Cross every Friday during Lent. Maybe it means finding the copy of the Bible that’s somewhere in your house, dusting it off, and reading a little bit of it every day so that you complete one book over the course of the forty days of Lent. (Maybe the Gospel of Matthew; one that’s proclaimed on the Sunday’s of our current liturgical year). Or maybe it means performing one not so random, but deliberate and well thought out, act of kindness every day. 

And so, during Lent we’re called to DELETE . . . to repent, to recognize and get rid of our sinful ways. Perhaps to focus on our most serious sin, or the one we find ourselves most frequently committing, and working on it, conquering it, allowing it to no longer have a hold on us . . . deleting it from our minds, our hearts, our words, our actions, our souls, our lives. And the perfect way for us to DELETE is to go to Confession . . . to not only be forgiven by God but reconciled to God . . . to have our status as his sons and daughters restored – fully, totally, nothing held back, no lingering feelings of ill will on the part of God. 

So here we are, on the threshold of the season of Lent. During this season we’re challenged to CTRL + ALT + DELETE – three keys when pressed simultaneously on our computers allows it to reboot, to get unstuck, to perform better - the way that it’s meant to. Same thing for us. During these forty days, sacrificing, devoting ourselves more to our spiritual lives, and repenting are the three keys which, when pressed simultaneously will reboot our lives, give us a fresh start, and allow us to be the people God created us to be. 

CTRL + ALT + DELETE . . . Sounds like enough to keep us busy this Lent. Sounds like enough to keep us busy for a lifetime!