FrNikola

4th Sunday of Easter, Cycle C

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In today’s readings we see the word of God is addressed to all, and it is a call to gather around Our Lord, the Good Shepherd, so that he can lead us, care for us, and take us to Heaven.

In today’s First Reading Paul and Barnabas try to share the word of God counting on the home field advantage: preaching to their fellow Jews. The initial results were very encouraging, but then the competition got jealous and got political. Paul is not one to be intimidated, and told them it was their loss, not his. They were rejecting the word of God. The loss of some jealous Jews became the Gentile’s gain. They had been seen as second class in comparison to God’s chosen people, but now they found that they too could hear and benefit from the word of God. The whole region benefitted from Paul and Barnabas’ ministry until political machinations made it too difficult for them to work. Our Lord had taught his disciples to shake the dust of a town that rejected him of their feet, and Paul and Barnabas did, moving on to another town. Despite these setbacks, the word was out: the word of God, the good news of salvation, was destined for all, not just the Jews.

In today’s Second Reading the apostle John describes a vision he had of the saints in Heaven gathered around Our Lord. He paints the scene using symbols. The saints are a multitude that “no one can count.” They are there because the Lamb made them able to stand before his throne, the throne of God, through his sacrifice. The washing white of their robes refers to the salvation they received from the blood of Christ, the Lamb on the throne. The white robes represent the newness of life the saints received through Baptism, and their palm branches are a sign of their ultimate victory: perseverance in the faith.

The elders, twenty-four in all, represent the Apostles and the Patriarchs of the Twelve Tribes of Israel. The Lamb does not just reign over them. He “shepherds” them, which goes beyond leadership and includes sheltering and caring for them forever. This is the point of arrival hoped for by everyone who hears the word of God and heeds it: gathered around the Lamb who has led them there, rejoicing together forever.

The Lord, as he explains so poignantly in today’s Gospel, has always seen his mission as a pastoral one, which is why we speak today of pastors and pastoral work. He is the Good Shepherd. As the Second Reading evoked today, the Lord wants to shepherd us toward the greenest of pastures: Heaven. He leads us back to the Heavenly Father. With Our Lord as our Shepherd we have nothing to fear, either now or in eternity, if we let him shepherd us. The word of God, addressed to all in today’s First Reading, is the call to gather into the one flock, Our Lord’s, to let him shepherd us and lead us to eternal life.

We hear the written word of God in every celebration of the Eucharist. Hopefully, we all have a copy of the Bible and it is not gathering dust in some forgotten corner of our home. If we’re exposed to any Christian culture at all we can say we hear the word of God, but do we listen to it? A good Easter resolution (since Lent is over) is to start meditating on the word of God and seeing how it shapes our lives. Commentaries and homilies on the Sunday readings are plentiful. Choose a source that strikes a chord in you. Pope Benedict XVI’s post-synodal exhortation on the Word of God, Verbum Domini, describes a classic technique for meditating on God’s word: lectio divina (nn. 86-87). Try it.

Readings: Acts 13:14, 43–52; Psalm 100:1–3, 5; Revelation 7:9, 14b–17; John 10:27–30.

3rd Sunday of Easter, Cycle C (2)

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The Lamb in today’s Second Reading, surrounded by everyone and everything falling down in worship before him, is the same person who makes breakfast for the disciples in today’s Gospel after a long night fishing. Do we let that sink in? You cannot pigeonhole Our Lord in once place and role or the other: if you try to either just place Our Lord in Heaven or on the shore cooking breakfast, you cannot understand what motivates him. He deserves our adoration, and woe to us if we don’t give it to them. At the same time, he wants our love. He doesn’t need our love, but he wants it.

In today’s First Reading the Apostles are happy to have suffered dishonor for the sake of Jesus, because they knew he was worthy of both their love and their adoration. The Sanhedrin were the religious authorities of Israel until Our Lord came and turned that all on its head. They had him executed, but the Lord rose from the dead to show they no longer had authority over him or anyone else in the eyes of God. They never believed in Our Lord, so when reports start coming in of what Peter and the other Apostles are preaching they filter it, out of a lack of faith, and see the Apostles as simply seeking to incriminate them for the injustice they’d done. They order the Apostles to no longer speak in Jesus’ name.

Peter’s response on behalf of the Apostles shows that they adore Jesus as Lord: “We must obey God rather than men.” After all they’ve lived and experienced, they are obliged to teach, preach, and act in Jesus’ name. Everyone knows that doing what you’re obliged to do does not always make you happy. The Apostles leave the Sanhedrin’s presence “rejoicing that they had been found worthy to suffer dishonor for the sake of the name.” That reaction does not come from obligation. It comes from love. The Lord loved them and suffered so much for them that they are happy to love and suffer for him in return, just as every believer should be.

In today’s Gospel Our Lord reminds us that he wants unconditional love from us, but also realizes our weakness and failings. It is not reflected in the English translations of this passage, but in the three times Jesus asks Peter “do you love me?”, the Greek original shows us Jesus is inviting Peter to profess the greatest love a man can have, and, gently, Peter responds that he is not up to that after everything that has happened between them. It passes from an invitation to ἀγαπάω (a deep and unconditional love) to φιλέω (a brotherly love or an openness to friendship). In the first invitation Jesus asks Peter if his love is deep and unconditional, and Peter responds that he has a brotherly love for Jesus. In the second invitation, Jesus asks Peter the same thing and Peter responds the same way: not a deep and unconditional love, but a brotherly love. Finally, in the third invitation, Jesus asks Peter whether his love for him is brotherly, and Peter, hurt that he keeps asking, responds in kind.

With this invitation Jesus has brought it down to Peter’s level and Peter has had an opportunity to really explore and state his level of love for Jesus after having said before the Passion that his love was until death and then denied Jesus three times (see Luke 22:33–34 and John 18:15–27). Jesus asks us for complete and unconditional love, but when we are weak, the love we can muster is enough, if it is from the heart. As Jesus extended the invitation to Peter, who knows whether he was asking him if Peter was still so confident that his love for Our Lord was total, but in the love Peter offered, he was firm. Our love will always be imperfect, but it must be firm, trying to grow and never losing ground.

God Almighty, Creator of Heaven and earth, created us out of love, but when we estranged ourselves from him he came to love us in Person. Even as believers we sometimes focus on loving those distant from us at the expense of those who are closest to us, whether at home, at work, or at school. Our familiarity with those closest to us sometimes makes it more of a challenge to love them than to love a total stranger. Make an extra effort this week to love those closest to you this week. Our Lord came down from Heaven to be close to us and love us in Person.

Readings: Acts 5:27–32, 40b–41; Psalm 30:2, 4–6, 11–13; Revelation 5:11–14; John 21:1–19. See also 3rd Sunday of Easter, Cycle C, 2nd Week of Easter, Thursday (2), 7th Week of Easter, Friday and Easter Friday.

2nd Sunday of Easter (Divine Mercy Sunday), Cycle C (2)

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This Sunday, as we conclude the eight-day solemnity of Easter and continue into the liturgical season of Easter, we celebrate the gift of divine mercy. It’s easy to forget sometimes that mercy is not something to which we have a right. The Lord has freely given it to us.

In the First Reading we see the power of healing flowing from Peter and the faith of the people who sought him out. Peter over this last week’s readings has been the first to tell us that the power comes from Jesus, not from him. People in today’s First Reading are just trying to fall under the Peter’s shadow in order to be healed. Peter himself would probably admit that he is a shadow of Our Lord, but the Lord uses him to heal those who seek him, just as those who seek forgiveness and healing through the sacraments draw close to our sacred ministers, knowing that it is Our Lord who heals and forgives through them.

In today’s Second Reading the apostle John has a vision of Our Lord holding the keys “to death and the netherworld.” Our Lord is not identified by name but reveals himself as the “first and the last” to John, who is imprisoned on the isle of Patmos for giving witness to Jesus. His keys represent his authority: specifically, to bind and to loose. If we ask him to liberate us, he will, but we have to ask him. When you see sin as a liberation, not an imprisonment, you see the great gift of mercy. Our Lord’s mercy is the key to liberation from our sins.

Our Lord didn’t have to forgive Thomas for his lack of faith in today’s Gospel, just as Adam and Eve didn’t have to receive mercy after the Fall, a Fall that condemned all their posterity (all of us) to separation from God forever. We didn’t commit the Original Sin, nor was the Lord obliged to forgive it or redeem all of us from its effects. In appearing to the Apostles today Our Lord’s message is one of peace and reconciliation, not condemnation. Our Lord in today’s Gospel empowers his Apostles to be instruments of his mercy.

When a priest or bishop absolves his penitent from his sins, that mercy and power come from Jesus. Instead of remaining in doubt and regret about whether we’ve truly been forgiven Our Lord has given sacraments that in faith we know bring us his forgiveness. Baptism, which we remembered in a special way over these last eight days as we celebrated those who were baptized in the Easter Vigil a little over a week ago, also wipes away sins. All these means of healing and mercy are freely given gifts of Our Lord. We don’t have to receive them, but we’d be fools not to seek them out.

The Risen Lord offers the same gift of lasting peace to us that he offered his first disciples in today’s Gospel. His peace is a gift, and a gift can be accepted or rejected. Are we ready to leave aside the pain and sorrow of sin and really accept his peace? Ask Our Lord for the grace of accepting his peace. You won’t regret it.

Readings: Acts 5:12–16; Psalm 118:2–4, 13–15, 22–24; Revelation 1:9–11a, 12–13, 17–19; John 20:19–31. See also 2nd Sunday of Easter (Divine Mercy Sunday), Cycle C, 2nd Sunday of Easter, St. Thomas the Apostle, and Pentecost Sunday.

Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion, Cycle C (2)

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With Palm Sunday we begin Holy Week by remembering the Lord’s Passion. The word “Passion,” like the word “love,” is a used and abused term in our day. When we speak of Passion in the case of what Our Lord underwent there’s room for multiple understandings of passion. He shows us passion in all the facets we should live it.

Our Lord put up no struggle and went as a lamb to the slaughter (cf. Isaiah 53:7), the Suffering Servant in today’s First Reading. Passion means suffering. Our Lord suffered greatly for us. In his Passion we see Isaiah’s parable of the Suffering Servant fulfilled. Passion meant having something done to you, and not necessarily something pleasant.

In today’s Second Reading Paul reminds us that a passion for others is what drove Our Lord to empty himself by assuming human nature and undergoing the Passion. It was not a passion for honors; he already had them. It was not a passion for gain; as God he already had everything and needed nothing. It was not a passion to excel; he was the Son of God in eternity before he was born of Mary. It was a passion for us and for his Father.

Passion means emotion; in Luke’s account of the Last Supper Our Lord expresses how ardently he desired to be with his disciples before suffering. Passions can be good or bad; he was passionate about his cause. We can only imagine the emotions he was experiencing knowing one of his most trusted friends would betray him. The fear he experienced in Gethsemane of what he was going to undergo. The betrayal and abandonment by his disciples he experienced when things became dangerous, and the torture and ridicule he underwent.

Most importantly, Passion means love. People are encouraged today to be passionate about what they do, and to change what they’re doing if they’re not. We’re expected to love what we do, and we consider people blessed who love what they do. However, the mystery of Christ’s Passion shows us that it is not so much loving what we’re doing as loving those for whom we’re doing it.

You may not love the cross, but you take up your cross daily for those you love. Jesus loves us through the Cross and undergoes the Passion to teach us what passion truly is. Holy Week has begun. In imitation of Christ in these days, contemplate not what you love or don’t love, but whom you are loving through what you do. As we follow Our Lord, step by step, blow by blow, to Calvary, ask him to show you for whom he is suffering: you.

Passion is not just about feeling good or feeling strongly about something. This week we’ll remember the most Passionate moments of Our Lord’s life, and those moments should spur us to a similar Passion. Live this week with the emotion, love, and willingness to sacrifice for others that Our Lord has taught us.

Readings: Isaiah 50:4–7; Psalm 22:8–9, 17–20, 23–24; Philippians 2:6–11; Luke 22:14–23:56. See also Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion, Cycle C and Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion (Cycle B).

5th Sunday of Lent, Cycle C (2)

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We’re two weeks away from Easter Sunday, and, as Paul describes in today’s Second Reading, we must forget what lies behind and strain toward what lies ahead. Our Lord wants to create something new in us during these last days of the Lenten season, and requires leaving some things behind.

In today’s First Reading we’re reminded by Isaiah that the past of slavery to sin and distress in the desert is being left behind to pave the way for something new. He starts by recalling the escape through the Red Sea that meant liberation for the Israelites, “the people whom I formed for myself,” and destruction for the Egyptians, “a powerful army.” As the story of Exodus would later reveal, the Israelites still thought of returning to Egypt often, tired of hardship in the desert. They were willing to sacrifice their new-won freedom just to avoid discomfort.

The Lord today encourages them and tells them the desert itself is being transformed. This is something new, created by Our Lord. Even in the desert signs of hope begin to appear. Lent is like a hard journey through a desert, but the desert also represents our earthly life, plagued by difficulties, temptations, and trials. Our life here and now has been transformed into something new by Our Lord’s victory over sin and death. We just have to leave sin behind and strain toward what he offers us.

In today’s Second Reading St. Paul describes well what how should consider anything in our lives, past, present, or future, that don’t lead us to Christ: refuse. Even the great St. Paul in his earthly life didn’t see his work of answering Christ’s call as done. He knew Christ was calling him to something greater, but he had not yet attained it. Paul “strained” toward what lay ahead; that meant he put his whole self into it.

In Lent we strain as well, striving to go above and beyond our normal spiritual life so that we draw closer to Christ and truly grow spiritually. We don’t just strain because pushing ourselves any harder is beyond our abilities; we also strain because of the weight of what we cannot leave behind: our old life of sin and selfishness. That’s why Paul doesn’t mince words when he labels those things as “refuse.” We must leave them behind and forget them so that we can move forward.

In today’s Gospel we’re reminded in the story of the woman caught in adultery that the opportunity to strain ahead and let Our Lord created something new in our lives is also thanks to his mercy. The Lord helps us know what we truly must leave behind, even at times when we don’t see it. The scribes and Pharisees are looking for a trial, and they have the criminal who was caught in flagrante delicto and the Law on their side. The adulteress knows that too, which is why she is silent. She knew her fate was now out of her hands.

The Law prescribed that a just man to pronounce sentence on her. When they invited the just man, Jesus, the man without sin, to come forward and throw the first stone, they found themselves on trial too. They’d only come to trap Jesus in the situation, to put him on trial. They weren’t really seeking justice. They came to him as if they considered him a just man, but their actions showed they were sinners just like the woman they were condemning. They wanted a rubber stamp or a political scapegoat, not justice, and so Our Lord revealed to them that they were the most unjust of men, and they skulked off, one by one, until only the adulteress remained, alone before the only just person who could pronounce a verdict.

We stand alone with God. The other voices, one by one, leave and attend to their own consciences, knowing that they can only judge themselves so much before the case comes to the Divine Judge. In the end we too will stand speechless and hopeful for mercy, just like the adulteress. Ashamed and silent, sorry for what we have done, we must stand before Jesus and answer for it in the light of day.

Each “jury” member that had been united around condemning another walked off alone. No one wanted to face up to Jesus for what they had done; they changed their vote with their feet. The adulteress was ready to accept her judgment. Jesus confirmed the jury’s revised verdict: since they had un-decided to condemn her, he would not condemn her either, but he also told her the truth about herself, just like he always does in each of our hearts: “Go, and from now on do not sin any more.”

What are you having a hard time leaving behind? Today’s readings remind just that Lent is not just a time for easing off on things we normally do, but a time for leaving things behind that prevent our spiritual growth. Your Lenten resolutions, if properly chosen, help you to see the things you must leave behind to strain toward a deeper friendship with Christ. It may take a long time to leave something behind, but with Our Lord’s help, you will.

Readings: Isaiah 43:16–21; Psalm 126:1–6; Philippians 3:8–14; John 8:1–11. See also 5th Sunday of Lent, Cycle C.