Homily - November 30, 2014 - First Sunday of Advent

Mass readings:   http://usccb.org/bible/readings/113014.cfm

Good evening/morning and Happy new year!

            It’s suppose it’s more a movie for Lent than Advent, for Holy Week actually, but there’s a short but very powerful and beautiful scene in the film The Passion of the Christ that’s very memorable.  To set the scene - Our Lord, tortured and blood, is struggling on the way to Calvary, and his Blessed Mother sees Him at a distance down a narrow alley, sees Him collapsing on the dusty stone street, crushed under the weight of His cross.  Mary has a flashback of Our Lord as a toddler, sees Him tripping and falling and crying, and in her minds eye she recalls frantically running to Him, gathering Him in her arms, comforting Him.  Back to the present, she now runs down this alley and embraces her fallen Son, telling Him “I’m here. I’m here”  Then, despite His agony and exhaustion, He turns to her almost with a smile and exclaims “See, Mother, I make all things new!”

            “I make all things new.”  The quote is found in scripture, but it’s nowhere to be found in the gospels, as director Mel Gibson took some artistic liberties with this film.  Christ proclaims this verse from His eternal throne in the book of Revelation chapter 21 verse 5, the second last chapter of the bible.  A chapter that speaks of a new heaven and a new earth.  And while it wasn’t recorded that Our Lord ever said this verse to His Blessed Mother on His journey to Calvary, it would have been very appropriate, as that is what His mission was, and Calvary is where He accomplished it.

            On this first day of our new liturgical year, on this first day of Advent, this phrase, this passage, “Behold I make all things new” would, I think, be very profitable to reflect on and think about this week.  For this is a time of new beginnings.  Of re-new-al.  A time of starting over.  For Jesus, the Lord of new beginnings, of “do-overs” so-to-speak, came to earth 2000 years ago to make all things new, and during this season of Advent, we anticipate His coming again, on Christmas morn and at the end of our time. 

            So I ask – what is it in your life and mine that is in need of renewal, of starting over, in need of a do-over?  Perhaps it’s some sin that by ourselves we simply don’t have the power to break. 

            Perhaps it’s spiritual sleep – apathy or laziness. 

            Perhaps it’s spiritual blindness – a failure to recognize Jesus coming to us in the face of the poor, the immigrant, the prisoner. 

            Perhaps it’s a relationship that seems hopelessly broken, that by our own power we are helpless to mend. 

            Perhaps it’s a hard heart that is unwilling to forgive, or unwilling to beg forgiveness.

            Or perhaps it’s recognizing the need to finally, truly, follow Christ as a true disciple, a new creation as St. Paul writes to the Corinthians.  Our Lord wants nothing other than our complete surrender to His will and His power, our complete abandonment of our failed, self-centered, sinful ways.  Thomas Merton wrote that real faith is the “willingness to sacrifice every other value other than the basic value of truth and life in Christ.” He wrote “[Real faith] is not just the acceptance of ‘truths about’ Christ. It is not just acquiescence in the story of Christ with its moral and spiritual implications. It is not merely the decision to put into practice, to some extent at least, the teachings of Christ. All these forms of acceptance are compatible with an acquiescence in what is ‘not Christ.’”  Merton continued, “It is quite possible to ‘believe in Christ,’ in the sense of mentally accepting the truth that he lived on earth, died, and rose from the dead, and yet still live ‘in the flesh,’ according to the standards of a greedy, violent, unjust and corrupt society, without noticing any real contradiction in one’s life.”

            My sisters and brothers, now is the time to invite Our Lord to come into our lives anew, to transform us, to make of each of us and our communities a new creation, to bring His healing, His growth, His grace.  “Behold, I make all things new!”

            So in addition to this promise of Our Lord, “I make all things new,” there are three things I’d ask you to take home and think about:

1.      Be awake!  Wake up!  In this Gospel, Our Lord cautions the disciples to stay awake and on guard.  We don’t know the time or place He will come again, either at the end of time or at the end of our own time, but the message is clear – we must wake from all the ways in which we live our lives asleep and with vigilance, watch!  Be awake!

2.      Be open.  Be open minded and open hearted and let the Lord speak to us of the ways in which we need renewal, repentence, and healing.  And watch with open eyes for the Lord’s coming into your life and mine.  He can come in a million different ways, but if we are open to His presence, we will find Him.  One of my professors in diaconate formation would start every class with the question “where did you see God today?” and each of us in class would have to answer.  As the next class drew near, knowing that question was coming, I made sure to walk around with eyes wide open, looking for God, especially in those around me.  So be open to God’s presence in our lives.

3.      Be clay.  The very last line in our first reading from the prophet Isaiah says that we are the clay and He is the potter.  Little children are like clay – impressionable, moldable, teachable.  As we grow older we harden a bit, more set in our ways, more brittle even.  If the Lord is to make of us something new, we must be clay in His hands, soft and malleable.  We must cooperate and let Him do His work in us.  Be awake, be open, be clay.

“See, I make all things new,” proclaims the Savior King upon His throne.  My brothers and sisters, the Lord is coming.  Let us make room for Him to come into our lives, our relationships, our families, our community, our world.  To come and transform us and truly make of us something new.

Happy new year!

Homily - November 23, 2014 - Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe (preached St. Kateria at St. Cecilia)

Mass Readings:     http://usccb.org/bible/readings/112314.cfm

          

            It was a couple years ago, I think.  It was late on a dark night.  My wife and I were driving home from the southern tier, travelling north on Route 96 down in Waterloo.  Now just as you’re leaving the village, there’s a stop sign, you turn left and head toward the thruway, and look for the 55 sign so you can speed up.  Just as I was starting to speed up, I saw bright flashing lights in my rear view mirror – the village police.  I thought he wanted to get by me, so I pulled over, but he pulled over too.  So Pam and nervously waited for the officer to come to my window.  We were shocked – what had I done? I know I wasn’t speeding.  Well I rolled down the window and he flashed his light on the two of us and asked if I knew why he’d pulled me over.  I said I had no idea.  He told me I hadn’t fully stopped at the stop sign and was going to have to give me a ticket.

            Long story short, I decided there and then to fight that ticket, so I plead not guilty and about six weeks later made my appearance in Village Court.  I took time off from work and got there early and spoke with the ADA, who asked me if I was interested in pleading guilty to a lesser charge, fewer points.  I said no, I wanted to state my case in court.  I sat down and watched as people filed in including a whole string of men in orange jumpsuits and chained at the feet who were marched in and put in a holding room.  Finally, “all rise” and the Justice of the Peace came in.  He called my name first and I nervously approached the bench.

            Now the reason I tell this story is this – I remember to this day how nervous I felt before that judge.  At this point in my life, I don’t get nervous very much.  I go to work and very seldom get nervous, even in meetings with the CEO of the company.  And I don’t even get nervous standing up here and preaching any more.  But that day?  I was nervous.  I was sweating.  I brought pictures and diagrams and I was prepared to make my case, but all I remember now was how nervous I was!

            This all came to mind as I was imagining the day when I’ll be brought it in to a much higher court, with a much more important judge, that day Our Lord describes in today’s Gospel.  Imagine for a moment that day!  After the stress and strain of dying, whether it be after a lengthy illness, or suddenly in an accident, or peacefully in sleep, like being born it’s going to be stressful.  And then, to be escorted to the judgment seat of the King, the Lord of the universe, through whom all this was created, through whom you and I were created!  To face Him and His eternal judgment!

            I don’t know about you, but that makes me very nervous!  It will be just Him and you. Him and me.  Face to face.  No pictures, no diagrams, no case to be made for our eternal judgment other than what Our Lord describes in this Gospel. My sisters and brothers, Our Lord and King will judge you and me on one thing – our faith.  Were we His disciples?  Did we truly believe in Him and follow Him?

            And the only evidence we can present at that moment in our defense - is the record of our lives…how did we live?  How did we live? You see, Christian faith is not only to believe with the mind and heart, to “accept Jesus as our personal Lord and savior.”  No, it is that, but it is more than that.  To accept Jesus is to believe with the actions of our lives.  In short, to accept Jesus is to love.  Faith and love are really one and the same thing.

            And more specifically, as our Blessed Lord spells it out for us – we will be judged based on whether we loved Him enough to serve the needs of others, the needs of the least of His brothers and sisters – whether we fed the hungry, gave drink to the thirsty, clothed the naked, welcomed the stranger, cared for the sick, visited the prisoner.

            Now understand this - there’s no way that you and I can “do enough” to merit eternal life.  Christ has already done all that is necessary to merit for us eternal life, right then and there.  But while you and I can’t “do enough,” we are called, as I heard a priest on the radio say this week, we are called to “die trying.”

            So there are three things you and I can take home from this Gospel –

1.      If we’re not already living this kind of faith, let’s get to work.  We have a limited number of hours on the earth, and He’s telling us today exactly how He wants us to spend them.  Our Lord makes clear in this Gospel that the most serious sin of the wicked is omission – in what we fail to do.  So let’s get to work.  It’s never too late to start.

2.      Look for Jesus in every single person we encounter.  Look for Jesus in those around us, especially those we find most difficult to accept, to get along with.  And look for Jesus in the poor, the hungry, the immigrant, the prisoner, the dying.  We have no excuse, we can’t say that we never encountered them, for they’re right there now in our living rooms, on our TVs.  We can change the channel and put them out of our mind, but we do so at our own peril

3.      BE Jesus to every single person we encounter.  There’s a world of hurt out there and the only real answer, the only real salvation for that world is right here in Jesus Christ.  Brothers and sisters, it’s up to you and me to bring Him whom we encounter here, out there.  Into our homes, our workplaces, our communities.  Our soup kitchens, hospitals, hospices, and jails.

Get to work. Seek Jesus. Be Jesus.

            With that kind of living, active faith, my sisters and brothers, you and I will have nothing to fear on the day we are escorted into the eternal courtroom.  We will present ourselves before the Lord, with our imperfections and sins and no doubt having fallen short of fully living out our calling as Christians.  But on that day, despite our flaws, if we’ve loved the Lord so much so as to have given our all, if we’ve truly “died trying,” well we have nothing to fear standing before the throne of our Savior King, our loving and merciful Lord, and we shall hear the most beautiful words ever spoken:

             “Well done, my good and faithful servant, you who are blessed by my Father.  Come, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.”

P.S. not to leave you hanging - the police officer was a no show, not guilty!

Homily for Tuesday, April 29 - St. Kateri at Christ the King - Communion Service 6:30a

Daily mass readings:    http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/042914.cfm

            “The wind blows where it wills and you can hear the sound it makes, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes; so it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

            This image the Lord uses, the wind and the Spirit, is a powerful one.  There is an inherent contrast in this between the wind, blowing where it wills, and the opposite - being tied down, secured, grounded you might say.  Something in me likes being tied down, secured, grounded.  Likes not having to face change.  Likes the things the way they are, or better yet, the way they used to be.  Something in me rebels against the seeming randomness of the wind – the randomness that He describes “everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

            Yet in my own life, I can see (and only with hindsight can I see clearly, I might add) I can see how the Spirit has been at work, blowing here and there, but leading me to new things and ever greater discipleship.  It was the Spirit who inspired Pam and me, at the time in a very dark and scary place in our marriage, to make a Marriage Encounter weekend.  That weekend literally saved our marriage.

            It was our involvement with Marriage Encounter that led our family to go away to Catholic Family Camp for our summer vacation five out of six years.  And the powerful experience of Family Camp was one of the main places where I heard the Lord whispering to me, calling me to the permanent diaconate – to eventually quit what the world sees as a great job, to go back to school in middle age, and to devote much of my and Pam will tell you – our – free time to this ministry.

            And only the Spirit can tell you where it will lead from here!  I am sure that each of us can look back and see how the Spirit has blown this way and that throughout our lives, leading us from all over to join in community here at 6:30 this morning, listening to His Word and receiving His Body in Communion. 

            I think what the Lord is saying to us is this – while we naturally like to be tied down, secured, in-control, unchanging - to live in the Spirit, to live the fully Christian life, we are called to cut the ropes that tether us and let the Spirit move us where He will.  That is what the Lord is saying it means to be born again – to be born from above.  To live in the Spirit, and to be open to all of the changes God has in store for us.  To follow Him wherever He goes.

Preached April 26/27 at St. Kateri, St. Cecilia - Second Sunday of Easter and Feast of Divine Mercy

Mass readings:   http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/042714.cfm

Imagine, for a moment, that you are one of the first disciples, and it is the evening of the first day of the week, and you’re locked in the upper room with the others.  Dazed and confused and grieving over the death of the Lord at the hands of the Jewish leaders, scared that they’re coming for you next, yet mystified and filled with all kinds of emotions at the news that Peter and John and Mary are telling - that the Lord had risen, that the Lord had returned. 

            If I were there, I’d be nervous, because, as much as I’d like to think I would have stood by the Lord, and accompanied Him as He was arrested, beaten, sentenced to death and taken out and crucified, knowing myself I would have been just like the others, hiding out, maybe watching from a distance, but taking no chance that it would be me nailed to the cross next to Jesus.  And if that were me, even though I had followed Him and eaten with Him and even grown to love this gentle, kind, and challenging man, I am pretty sure I would have abandoned Him in His darkest hour, too.

            So in my mind’s eye if I envision myself sitting around with the other disciples, and Our Lord suddenly was standing before me, the first thought that would come to mind is “uh oh” and then “here it comes, payback time.”  He’s back and He’s gonna want some answers – like “how could you desert me?  I thought you loved me!”

            But that’s not what happened.  No.  The first words from Our Lord’s mouth weren’t “where were you?  You weren’t there!”  No.  The first word from Our Lord’s mouth was “peace.  Peace be with you.”  He appeared to the disciples not in anger, not looking for payback, but bringing peace.  Gentleness.  Forgiveness.  Mercy! 

            It’s a fitting Gospel for today’s Feast of Divine Mercy, instituted 14 years ago by Pope John Paul II, whose canonization Pope Francis fittingly chose for this day of mercy.  And we do well today to contemplate the mercy of God, what St. Faustina Kowalska writes that Our Lord told her is “God’s greatest attribute.”  Mercy – God’s greatest attribute!

            What is mercy?  The first thing that comes to mind is forgiveness, and it is that, but it is more.  Mercy is love that is poured out, love poured out in forgiveness, in gentleness, in compassion.  The Latin word for mercy is miscerecordia which translates as compassion from the heart.  The image of Divine Mercy given to St. Faustina is the image of Jesus with two rays coming forth from His Sacred Heart – one red and one white, representing His precious blood and life-giving water that gushed from His heart as he hung upon the cross. 

            Another definition that I think gets close is this one I found on line, which is based on a homily of St. John Paul II, and that is this:  “Mercy is love that bends down, grabs hold, lifts up, and heals.”  Love that bends down, grabs hold, lifts up and heals.  My sisters and brothers, in our fallen sinful world, in our fallen sinful nature, aren’t we all in need of that?  And isn’t that exactly what the Father, through His Son Our Lord, does for us?  He sent His son, literally bent down to earth to be one of us, and by Our Blessed Lord’s death and Resurrection, he grabs hold of us, lifts us up and heals us?”  He not only forgives us, but He heals us, reconciles us to Himself by His own blood.  And He pours out on us His grace, His strength, to live holy lives.

            It’s what Our Lord did for the disciples in that locked room.  It’s what He did for doubting Thomas when He appeared again.  He didn’t come around scolding or seeking justice; He came with mercy, with healing.  And He breathed on them, giving them new life.  The Risen Lord, who breathed His last as He hung on the cross, now breathed His new life into them and gave them a mission, sent them forth, to forgive sins, to bring His love, His mercy to the ends of the earth. 

            And 2000 years later, the Church fulfills that mission in the person of her holy priests, who in persona Christi, in the Sacrament of Reconciliation, are all about bringing Christ’s loving mercy.  Because if there’s one thing to remember from this day, it’s this – the mercy of Christ is far greater, far more powerful, than any sin.

            My brothers and sisters, there are some amoung us here today, perhaps many, who are imprisoned in sin – imprisoned perhaps in anger, in prejudice, and ahte, in unforgiveness and spite perhaps, maybe trapped in sinful habits and addictions, possibly even haunted by sins carried for a lifetime, whatever – Our Lord is beckoning us to come to Him and trust in His mercy, for His mercy is strong enough to set us free from whatever binds us.  Strong enough to create in us new, soft hearts where cold, stony hearts have been for so long.  He beckons us to come to Him so that He may bend down, embrace us, lift us up and heal us.

            And one last thing - once we have experienced His loving Mercy, how can we then not go forth to preach Divine Mercy, in our words and in our actions.  As our trespasses have been forgiven, to forgive those who have trespassed against us.   After all, if mercy is God’s greatest attribute, then in exhibiting mercy we are most like God, most modeling ourselves after Jesus.  Whom do you and I need to forgive this day?  Whom do you and I need most to reach out to and be reconciled to? 

            Our Blessed Lord is calling you and me as His disciples, each of us, to go forth from here, to bend down, embrace, lift up and heal someone.  To be reconciled to someone.  To let His Divine Mercy flow through us to someone.  Who is that someone?

Homily for Easter Sunday - The Feast of the Resurrection of the Lord - St. Kateri at St. Margaret Mary 9am

Happy Easter!!  The Lord is Risen, Alleluia! Alleluia!

Mass Readings:  http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/042014.cfm

Good morning and Happy Easter.

            We do a lot of things by habit, without really thinking about them.  As an example, we go through our morning routine, getting ready for school or work, pretty much without thinking about it.  Perhaps we have a routine for other things, too– going to the supermarket, the post office, the doctor.  Going through the motions, so to speak.  And in our routine, by force of habit perhaps, we head to Mass week after week, either on Saturday afternoon or Sunday morning.

            But do we ever stop to think about why we do the things we do?  I mean, have you stopped to ask yourself why you’re here today?  Why, when probably most of the Town of Irondequoit is still sound asleep, you’re here in this overflowing Church building? 

            Perhaps we’re here to see this beautiful building, this glorious sanctuary?  Maybe, but I don’t think so.    

            Maybe it’s to show off your new Easter clothes!?  Possibly, but that’s not really the reason, is it? 

            Perhaps it’s the wonderful, prayerful music, played and sung so beautifully by our music ministry.  Great as they are, I don’t think that’s it either.            

            I know – it must be the scintillating preaching, huh?!  Definitely not that.  So what it it?

<pause>           My sisters and brothers, there is one thing we’re here for, or at least there is one thing that we should be here for.  And that is this:

            We are here because we believe – that Christ Jesus Our Lord has been raised from the dead.  He who once was dead, now lives! 

            Now make no mistake, Jesus was dead.  It’s what He came to earth for, as God made man, fully divine, fully human.  Think back a few months to Christmas morning, the joy with which we celebrated the newborn Savior, the red color of that season a precursor of the blood He came to shed on Calvary.  And think on that newborn Savior on Good Friday – now crowned with thorns, beaten and whipped, nailed through hands and feet and hung high on the cross in the noonday sun, bleeding and gasping for air.  And there He died.   A spear was thrust into His lifeless body, blood and water flowing out.  His broken body was taken down from the cross, wrapped in linen and laid in a grave. 

            Yes, there on Calvary He died – and why?  To stand in our place - to take the place of you and of me – He took on the punishment that by our sins rightly belongs to me and to you.

            But, just as He had said would happen, on that third day He was raised from the dead.  Not resuscitated like His friend Lazarus, bound to die again, but raised to a new and glorified life, never to die again.  As He walked out of that tomb, He defeated death and opened for us the gates of eternal life.

            We. Believe. This!  We believe that this Jesus of Nazareth, the only begotten Son of God, died, was raised from the dead, and lives still! And by His death and resurrection, He offers you and me the hope, the promise, of resurrection.  The joy of this day is that you and I are offered Resurrection – that day when you and I are raised up and see Him face to face.  The joy of this day is that we are offered eternal life with Him!

            So that, my brothers and sisters, is the reason we’re here this morning.  It’s the only reason we should be here, and if we don’t believe that this Jesus of Nazareth was raised from the dead, what’s the point of being here?  And if we do believe that this Jesus of Nazareth was raised from the dead, we should be here all the time! 

            For to believe this, to really believe this, is something that changes us profoundly – for to truly believe, and enter into an intimate love relationship with the Risen Lord means that we are resurrected now – that from this moment we will live our lives very differently.  Very different lives than the world out there – different than those taking advantage of this beautiful Sunday morning to sleep in. 

            As a Resurrection people, we go out into the world, but we are not of the world.  Fed here at this table by His very Risen Body and Blood, we strive to live lives of holiness.  We go forth from here and work to build a world of justice and peace, to be light in a dark, violent, lonely world. 

            And it means that we live always in joy and hope.  It means that we go forth from here today and every Sunday to joyfully bring the presence of the Risen Christ Jesus out into that world, a world so desperately in need of Him, a world hungering and thirsting for Him, and Him alone, really!

            A world hungering and thirsting for the hope that only He can give. 

            Hungering and thirsting for the love that only He can give. 

            Hungering and thirsting for the peace that only He can give.

My sisters and brothers – the Lord is truly Risen!  Let us Rejoice!  Alleluia!  Alleluia!

Preached homily for Good Friday of the Lord's Passion - St. Kateri at St. Cecilia, 3pm, April 18, 2014

Readings:  http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/041814.cfm

We are a culture, in fact a race, of symbols.  Everything we do, everything we are, everything about us is expressed in symbols.  Shortly after our birth, we were given a symbol – a name – a word made up of letters that uniquely identifies you, and me.  As we grew we quickly learned language – sound and words and phrases and sentences – to express and name the world around us.  And we have all kinds of symbols for every single thing and idea and emotion in our lives.

You see symbols are a way, the only way in fact, of calling something from our memory into the present, into the front of our minds.  A photo from my favorite vacation is only a symbol of that vacation, but when I look at it, the vacation becomes real again, and present, in my mind.

If we wish to communicate ideas and emotions, that can only be done by symbols – take the word love for instance.  We have many different ways of expressing the idea of “love,” just as there are many different meanings for the word “love.”  I wear on my left hand a symbol of my love for my wife – a symbol of my commitment to her for a lifetime, of my fidelity, of my giving myself to her, freely, totally.  The red heart is a famous symbol of love – made all the more famous by Hallmark every February 14.  American Sign Language has a couple of symbols for love – this one (hand) and this one (cross forearms on chest). 

But the greatest symbol of love, and the symbol of the greatest love, is this (hold up cross).  The Cross of Jesus Christ.  You and I are gathered here together this afternoon, to remember, to look upon the Cross and corpus – the dead Body – of Our Lord, and in so doing, what happened on Calvary over 2000 years ago becomes real, becomes present, is our minds. 

You see, as we meditate on the Cross, a host of things come to mind – This wooden instrument of torture and death, a Roman symbol of fear and domination.  We think of the mocking banner above His head – “The King of the Jews.”  The piercing pain from the crown of thorns.  The suffering, the pain in each of His wounds, as nails split the flesh of His holy hands and feet.  The anguish of abandonment, by His closest friends and even, seemingly, His Father.   

But above all, if we medicate on the wood of the Cross and LOVE doesn’t come to mind, my sisters and brothers, we’ve missed the meaning of this day.  For the Holy Cross is, above all, about love.  For on this day, Our Blessed Lord turned this symbol of death into the tree of life!  This symbol of domination and hate has become for us our greatest freedom, the greatest symbol of love.

My brothers and sisters, look upon the wood of the cross and ponder the amazing love of Our Lord Jesus Christ.

Ponder for a moment Our Lord’s love:

Ponder His love for the Father, so much, so deep that He completely surrendered to His Father’s will. 

And ponder Our Lord’s extravagant love for you, and for me. 

A love that continues even when you and I have denied Him and ignored Him and abandoned Him by our sins. 

A love that isn’t content to watch us wallow in our sinfulness, far from Him and His Father.

A love that seeks us out, to bring us back to Him.

A love in which He gives Himself completely and fully for each of us, to stand in our place, to suffer, to die, to bear the punishment that rightfully belongs to me and to you. 

A love which opens for us a torrent of His mercy which washes over us, mercy and grace which gives us His power to reject sin and live in holiness. 

A love which opens for us the gates of heaven and eternal life!

My brothers and sisters, as we come forward to venerate the cross, the greatest symbol of love humankind has ever known, let us recall the amazing, extravagant, exquisite love He has for each of us, let us praise Him with gratitude, and let us resolve to love Him in return, with all our hearts, and souls, and strength, and minds.

Preached St. Kateri (SCC and SMM), Sat/Sun April 5/6 - From death to life

Mass readings:  http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/040614.cfm

                It’s important, I think, in order to understand our first reading from the prophet Ezekiel, to read the rest of the story so to speak, to read what comes just before this reading in the 37^th chapter of the Book of Ezekiel.  And what comes before is this: Ezekiel has a vision – a vision in which he is standing in the middle of a vast valley covered with bones, dry bones baking in the sun.  A vast army that has been slaughtered there.   The Lord commands Ezekiel to prophesy, to pray, over these bones and say “dry bones hear the word of the Lord!”  He does, and in this vision the bones begin to rattle and move together and sinews and flesh and skin cover the bones.  And Ezekiel prays over them some more, saying “from the four winds come, O breath, and breathe into these slain that they may come to life.  The breath entered them, they came to life and stood on their feet, a vast army.”

            It is this vision of Ezekiel that is the foundation for the Lord’s promise to His people Israel and to you and me that was just proclaimed – “I will open your graves.  I will put my Spirit within you that you may come to life.  I have spoken and I will do it, says the Lord.”

            The theme of this reading, the theme of all our readings, is how the power of God can bring life out of death.  It’s appropriate for this season of Lent, and it’s appropriate for this season of springtime.  As I was pondering these readings the other day, driving along, I looked at all the trees, stripped and barren, and thought of these dry bones.  How even though we’re in April the trees and bushes still have the look of winter – lifeless, bleak.  And I had a vision of my own – how in a few short weeks these same trees and bushes will be bursting forth with new life – first little buds, then fresh green leaves, then fully clothed, wrapped in green.  Some bursting with color – pinks and blues and yellows as they flower in succession - the magnolias, then the cherries, the lilacs, the dogwoods.  As we watch this happen around us each year, do we stop to think about what a miracle that is?  It’s a sign to us every year of how God can bring new life out of what seems to be death.

            Our Gospel tells of Our Lord’s greatest miracle, the greatest sign, of who He was, and is.  His greatest example of bringing life out of death, foreshadowing His own rising from the dead on Easter Sunday.  You see, Lazarus didn’t seem to be dead.  He was dead, four days buried in the tomb.  “There will be a stench,” Martha tells Him, oblivious to what the Lord plans to do.  But for the glory of His Father, and so that all there in Bethany that day might know that He, Jesus, is the Son of God whom the Father has sent, that He, Jesus, has power over life and death, He stands before the tomb, tells them to roll away the stone, and commands this dead man, “Lazarus, come out!”  And Lazarus obeys.

            It’s an awesome story, mind-blowing if we stop to really take it in, if we don’t let it go in one ear and out the other, since, after all, we’ve heard it a hundred times.  An awesome example of the power of this Jesus fellow, but (if we’re honest) a little hard to relate to.  What does this story, or Ezekiel’s vision for that matter, have to do with your life and mine?  Certainly this Gospel is a foreshadowing of our own entering into eternal life, but what’s the practical take-away for us, right here and now?

            I think the answer is this –

            You and I are in our own tombs.  Yes, I’m convinced that because of our fallen sinful nature, what St. Paul calls “living in the flesh,” that you and I, each in our own way, are sort of dead and buried in our own tombs.  You and I are in some way, “dry bones.”  In our own tombs – tombs, perhaps, of despair and hopelessness.  Tombs, perhaps, of greed, avarice, self-centeredness.  Perhaps tombs of sinful habits or addictions, whatever they might be – alcohol, drugs, pornography, sex, gambling.  Tombs maybeof laziness, gossip, unforgiven grudges, whatever.  We lie in our tombs, bound and wrapped and unable to move, for four days, or forty years.

            And in this season of Lent, in the last couple weeks of this season of Lent, Our Lord stands before us, before you and me, perturbed, perhaps,s that we haven’t fully trusted Him, haven’t fully understood who He is, haven’t fully believed that He is the Son of God sent by the Father to save us.

            And He commands you and me to COME OUT of our tombs.  To repent and be converted, to rise and walk out, unwrapped, unburdened, and free.  He stands before us not in judgment or condemnation but with an ocean of mercy, living water which He invites us to plunge into. 

            And the place in which we most intimately and powerfully encounter that mercy is in the confessional.  In the Sacrament of Reconciliation.  Where we kneel, sinful and sorrowful, ask His forgiveness and mercy, and draw deeply from the well of His grace, His power, to go forth freed from whatever binds us.  To open the door, walk out, free.

            He invites this day us to trust in His mercy and power, the same power which healed the blind man and raised Lazarus from the dead, the same power which can free us from our own tombs of sin if we’ll only trust Him.  The same power which will make our dry bones rattle and shake, grow flesh and skin, rise and be filled with His Spirit.  “I have promised and I will do it,” says the Lord.