Cycle [C] Ascension of the Lord

 Acts 1:1-11; Ephes. 1:17-23 or Heb. 9:24-28, 10:19-23; Lk. 24:44-53

Today we celebrate the "Ascension of the Lord" Jesus. The visible departure of the Lord concluded the Risen Jesus' sojourn on earth. This also marks the beginning of a new phase in Christ’s relationship to humanity. As his visible presence ends, his "spiritual presence” begins in the Church.

The disciples worship Jesus as Lord when his divine identity was finally confirmed through his Resurrection. His divine authority is revealed as he now departs to heaven, taking his proper place at the right hand of the Father.  How do we know he is at the right hand of God? We get references in two letters and also in Acts where Stephen sees Jesus at the right hand of God when he was being stoned to death.  The line from the Apostles' Creed “He sits at the right hand of God the Father Almighty” has both theological and practical implications. The “right hand” is seen as a place of honor and status throughout the biblical text. Therefore, it is affirmation that Jesus has equal status to the Father within the Godhead (Hebrews 1:3, 12:2; 1 Peter 3:22; Acts 7:55-56).

Jesus leads his disciples out of the city towards Bethany, and the word for ‘to lead’ that is used by Luke here is often used in the Old Testament to describe the Exodus from Egypt. Here we have the completion of Christ’s new Exodus which he had been discussing with Moses and Elijah during his Transfiguration (Lk 9:31). The location of the Ascension at Bethany offers a similar sense of closure to the Gospel story, for it was at Bethany that Jesus began his triumphal entry into Jerusalem the week before his Passion (Lk 19:28-44). The beginning of his triumphal entry into Jerusalem becomes the place of his true triumphal entry, as he ascends to heaven. The disciples return to Jerusalem with great joy, where they spent their days in the Temple, blessing God, almost a classic ‘happily ever after’ ending.

This feast is also a beginning as the disciples are given their new mission which will begin at Pentecost, the completion of the Lord’s Paschal Mystery, as he sends the Holy Spirit upon the apostles in visible form, impelling to their new task. In our First Reading from the beginning of Acts, we have the first hints of this new movement as Jesus tells the apostles that they will be his witnesses ‘in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth’ (Acts 1:8). The response of the angels, ‘Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven?’ (Acts 1:11) sounds a little like an attempt to cajole them into action: what are you doing standing around? There’s work to be done. The Ascension begins that movement from Jerusalem out to the furthest ends of the known world that we have been hearing about day after day as we read the Acts of the Apostles. The book of Acts gives the account of Jesus acting through His followers.

Jesus is alive and will live through us and manifest himself to others if only we become available to him as a medium for him. We have to become his hands and feet, and his tongue and face.  A preacher used to keep a pair of old leather gloves on his desk. Before he would go to preach he would put the old gloves on and flex it several times. Someone asked him, “why do you do that?” He said, “To remind me of this vital lesson, that the gloves are absolutely impotent and powerless until my hands slipped into it.”

 

God prepares us and works in us through His Word, prayer, Sacraments, and sometimes through suffering in our life to strengthen our will and form our character for his ministry.   

The Bible shows many examples. God spent 40 years working in Moses before He could work through him. At the beginning of his ministry, Moses was impetuous and depended on his own strength. He killed an Egyptian and had to flee Egypt, hardly a successful way to start a ministry. But during those 40 years as a humble shepherd in the desert, Moses experienced God’s working in his life, a working that prepared him for forty more years of magnificent service.

There are other examples. Joseph suffered for thirteen years before God put him on the throne of Egypt, as second to Pharaoh. David was anointed king when he was a youth, but he did not gain the throne until he had suffered many years as an exile. Even the Apostle Paul spent three years in Arabia after his conversion, no doubt experiencing God’s deeper work to prepare him for his ministry. God has to work in us before He can work through us.

Ascension does not just mark the beginning of the new story of the nascent Church, but also another new movement, the movement of the virtue of hope. Our hope of reaching our heavenly homeland is not something static, for, as the Collect of today’s Mass tells us, where the Head has gone before in glory, the Body is called to follow in hope. But our following of Christ cannot mean that we are like the men of Galilee standing and looking into heaven. Instead, our hope puts us on a pilgrim journey to heaven.

Let us be willing and ready to submit ourselves in the hands of God that He will work through us to spread the message of hope, the message of Ascension.

Ps. Next two Sundays I will be visiting Greece and there won't be any posting of homilies those Sundays.

 

Easter VI:C: Acts 15:1-2, 22-29; Rv 21:10-14, 22-23; Jn 14:23-21

 Today we are brought back to the night of the Last Supper. It is Christ's last meal with his closest followers. He wants to leave them a parting gift: Peace. "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you." What does he mean by peace? Not what we usually think: "Not as the world gives do I give it to you."Christ's peace is lasting. It is interior peace of  the heart, which overflows into peace in families, in communities, in entire nations. It is the peace that comes from knowing without any doubt whatsoever that we are loved by him and that whenever we offend him, he will always be ready to forgive us. Only because Christ has given us this peace, by giving us faith in his love, mercy, and mission, he can command us: "Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid." 

If our peace were based on anything else: popularity, wealth, comfort, or power, it would be unstable, because all those things are vulnerable to change. But Christ's peace isn't vulnerable, because it's based on his love, mercy, and his mission to us to preach the kingdom he established by his death and resurrection. When he established the kingdom he defeated sin and death and that is why every time Jesus appeared to his disciples after his resurrection he greeted them peace. He brought us peace between God and between human beings. That is also why St.Paul tells us in Ephesians that Jesus is our peace. Therefore, we exchange peace soon after the prayer Our Father at the end of the Mass.

We have all heard the proverb, still waters run deep. It's true for lakes and oceans, but it's also true for the spiritual life. The deeper our friendship with Christ, the more stable our lives become. Even when storms come and make waves on the surface of the ocean, the depths remain calm. Christ wants us to learn to live a deep spiritual life, so that we can experience profound interior peace.

A few years ago the Vietnamese Cardinal Joseph Xavier van Thuan [twahn] died in Rome, exiled from his homeland. Everyone who knew him during the last years of his life was impressed by his interior peace and joy. He was someone who had found Christ's peace, the stability that comes from discovering and clinging to the deeper truths. Before his exile he was serving as Archbishop of Saigon. After the Vietnam War, when the communists took over both North and South Vietnam, he was arrested by the communist authorities. He spent the next 13 years in prison, as the communists tried unsuccessfully to destroy the Catholic Church in that country. Nine of those years were spent in solitary confinement, in gruesome conditions and horrible privations. At first the authorities decided to have only two guards watch over the Archbishop, so as not to risk contaminating too many young soldiers with the Archbishop's Catholic ideas. But after a month, Bishop van Thuan had made friends with both of them and taught them some Christian hymns and prayers.

The officials were forced to rotate guards every week in order to avoid such embarrassing conversions. But the rotation strategy backfired. The holy bishop radiated Christ's goodness so powerfully, even in the midst of his emotional and physical suffering, that he would win over his guards without even trying, sparking their curiosity and interest in his "secret" - that is, his faith. In the end, they went back to assigning two permanent guards. It was better to lose two than twenty. That's the kind of interior strength and peace of mind that Christ wants to give us.

Most of us probably don't experience this peace as much as we would like to. And yet, we do experience it. When life's storms come, we know where to go. We know that Christ is there for us with his peace. We can experience him and his peace in the Eucharist and in confession. We can run to his Mother, Mary, the Queen of Peace.

The best way to grow in our knowledge of Christ is through prayer. Sometimes our prayer life gets stunted because our concept of prayer is distorted; we think of prayer as merely "saying prayers." Prayer is much more than that. The catechism defines prayer as a "vital and personal relationship with the living and true God" (#2558). Prayer can take many forms, the most common of which is "saying prayers". But there is also Christian meditation, or mental prayer. There is the Rosary, which was John Paul II's favorite prayer. There is adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. There is the perfect prayer, the Mass.

 

Today, when Jesus renews his commitment to us, let's take up his offer of peace by renewing our commitment to get to know him better each day, by growing deeper in our prayer life.

 

 

Easter V [C]: Acts 14:21-27; Rv 21:1-5a; Jn 13:31-33a, 34-35

Today we are reminded of the fundamental pattern of Christian life: Cross and Resurrection. We have seen this theme frequently in recent weeks leading to Easter, but the Church wants us to look at it again. St. Paul describes the path to Heaven as hardship, but Our Lord in today’s Gospel calls it the moment of his glorification. When John in his gospel talks about glorification, he is referring to Jesus being crucified. As Judas goes out to betray Our Lord, the Lord says, “Now is the Son of Man glorified, and God is glorified in him.” 

St Luke, the author of the First Reading from the Book of Acts, summarizes the preaching of Paul and Barnabas in one sentence.  'They strengthened the spirits of the disciples and exhorted them to persevere in the faith, saying, "It is necessary for us to undergo many hardships to enter the Kingdom of God.'" In other words, only through the Cross can we reach the Resurrection; only through self-sacrificing love can we experience true Christian joy.

St John in the Second Reading gives us the same message from the other direction. He paints a picture of heaven, where the saints live in perfect communion with God. The main characteristic of that life is that God "will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and there shall be no more death or mourning, wailing or pain, for the old order has passed away." The old order is our life here and now in the pilgrim Church on earth. It will pass away; it won't always be like this. But for the time being, it's full of wailing and weeping, mourning and pain. This should be a big relief for us. It means that we don't have to pretend as if we have it all together. It means that God knows that life is messy, and that's OK. In the midst of the mess, he wants to teach us the art of living.

Our society is so obsessed with pleasure, comfort, health, youth, and appearances that sometimes even we Christians forget about that, and we start thinking that the only meaningful life is a painless life. The examples of the saints can remind us that, in fact, just the opposite is true: only through the Cross can we reach the Light.

Blessed Lydwina [LIHD-vine-ah] of Holland is a case in point. She lived in the 1400s. She was a pretty, vivacious 15-year-old, until she got into an ice-skating accident and ran into complications during her recovery. For the next thirty-eight years she never left her sickroom. God sent her a rare and gruesome cross: Her flesh began to rot. She had agonizing headaches, constantly recurring fits of vomiting, unending fevers, maddening thirst, spasms of pain in every part of her body - it was as if she were already decaying in the grave, while she remained conscious to experience it.

At first, she felt anger and revulsion at her suffering. But gradually she learned that God was asking her to suffer for the reparation of others' sins. Her confessor visited her frequently, taught her to meditate on our Lord's passion, and frequently brought her Holy Communion - which was her only food for the last 13 years of her life. As she recognized and embraced her life's mission, she began to add voluntary sufferings to the ones God had sent her (sleeping on boards instead of on a bed, for example). God rewarded her by giving her powers of healing (healing others, of course), and prophecy, and special visions. Lydwina's specific vocation was uncommon, but its pattern is the same for every Christian vocation, ours included: Cross and Resurrection; through the Cross, into the Light.

By saying, It is necessary for us to undergo many hardships to enter the Kingdom of God, Paul was encouraging the Christians he converted to be courageous in suffering. Paul was stoned by the Jews and left for dead – then when he revives, he doesn’t go hide in a cave somewhere, but goes right back into city where people want him dead. However, in some cases when persecuted he goes to another town dusting off the feet. Now, is that courage or facing suffering, one might ask.

Courage sometimes means staying, and sometimes means going. The apostles fled not out of fear, but out of a desire for effective witness. Sometimes the most effective witness comes from staying and suffering – even dying. Sometimes the most effective witness comes from fleeing, and never returning. Sometimes – as in this case – the most effective witness comes from fleeing for a time, then returning. The concern of the true disciple is not how to avoid suffering – the concern is how to have the most effective witness.

This past Sunday several Catholic churches were targeted, vandalized, tabernacles stolen; one tabernacle was found in a Burger King. Why only the Catholic Churches were attacked in the light of the draft document leak from the Supreme Court? Because, the Catholic Church is the leading  champion of the unborn, and the life issues. Why doesn’t the Church keep quiet and not make people inimical to it? Well, then it would not be showing the way to the Kingdom of God. The Church would be only a secular organization like many other churches are trying to be. They may attract more people but they would not be showing the faithful the clear way to the Kingdom of God. The more challenge a Church faces in the world, the closer it is to the right teachings of the Bible. The way to the Kingdom of God is narrow.

When sufferings and oppositions come – Satan tempts us to back off, to back away from the church, to neglect meeting together. That is the worst thing you can do (and Satan knows it). When you act that way, you are playing into Satan’s hands.  John MacArthur said, If you always back off whenever you face opposition, you will never accomplish anything for God. For, Satan will always oppose any step you take in faith.

Jesus says, “You will be hated by all for my name’s sake. But the one who endures to the end will be saved” (Mt 10:22).  Whenever we face suffering and challenges, let’s take comfort in the consoling worlds of the Lord: “In this world you will have tribulation. But take heart – I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).

 IV-Easter-C: Acts 13:14, 43-52; Rev. 7:9, 14b-17; Jn. 10:27-30

 

One of God's favorite ways to describe Himself is by saying he is like a good shepherd. Jesus did so more than once, as he does in today's Gospel. 

In the Old Testament, the comparison is everywhere:

God chose shepherds to be the Patriarchs; he chose shepherds to be Israel's first kings; the prophets ceaselessly speak of Israel as a flock and God as their shepherd; the image returns again and again in the Book of Psalms, as in the beautiful expression from today's Psalm: "Know that the Lord is God; he made us, his we are; his people, the flock he tends." We are used to this image, but even so, the Church likes to remind us of it, frequently. Why? What is it about this image that God likes so much? 

Comparing God to a good shepherd can only happen in a religion that recognizes a special connection between the human person and God - for instance, that man is created in the image of God. Only then does the comparison make sense, because a God who is a good shepherd is a God who walks with his people and cares about their every joy and sorrow. That, Jesus tells us, is what our God is like.

The message of Christ's Passion is that our God is not a God who stays aloof from our suffering. He comes down into the valley of darkness, takes our hand, and saves us through our suffering.

One of the most well-known modern Christian poems expresses this closeness of God with memorable beauty and simplicity. You have probably heard of it. It's called "Footprints". 

It was written in 1936 by a girl named Mary Stevenson.

Mary had lost her mother at age six. She grew up in poverty and hardship as her father struggled to raise eight children during the Great Depression.

One cold winter's night when she was 14-years-old, she was locked out of the house.

As she sat shivering on the doorstep, she wrote "Footprints" on a scrap of paper.

One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord. / Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky. / In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. / Sometimes there were two sets of footprints, other times there were one set of footprints. / This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat, I could see only one set of footprints. / So I said to the Lord, "You promised me Lord, that if I followed you, you would walk with me always. / But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life there have only been one set of footprints in the sand. / Why, when I needed you most, you have not been there for me?" / The Lord replied, "The times when you have seen only one set of footprints in the sand, is when I carried you."

It's just a poem, just a story. But it rings true. 

Christ is our shepherd, and, as he reminds us in today's Gospel passage, if we trust in him, nothing, not even hardship and suffering, can "take us out of his hand".

Jesus says “my sheep hear my voice. Unfortunately, life in today's world is noisy, and it is not always easy for us to hear the voice of our good shepherd. We are bombarded with so many other voices, so many images, so many ideas.

Christ knows this, yet he still tells us, "My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me."

What gives Christ so much confidence in our ability to stay close to him and avoid the traps set by poachers and wolves? It is prayer, one of God's greatest gifts to us, and one that we often take for granted. Christ is always paying attention to us, just as a good shepherd pays attention to his sheep.

He is always speaking to us, just as a good shepherd walks ahead of his flock talking and singing, so they can hear him and follow along.

No matter how noisy, dark, or stormy it gets, he knows how to make his voice heard in our hearts. We can always tune into it - that's the gift of prayer. 

God is always tuned into our prayers. The server never goes down, the reception never goes bad: as soon as we turn the attention of our hearts to our good shepherd, he makes his voice heard. God is always online, waiting for us to turn our attention to him, so he can guide us to the meaningful life we long for. The sheep who wanders away and gets stuck in a ravine or attacked by wolves cannot blame the shepherd. Just so, when our lives don't fill us with the meaning we long for, before blaming Jesus we should take an honest look at our prayer lives: do we pray?  Do we strive to pray better? How long of a quality time do we spend in prayer every day?

Today, as Jesus renews his commitment as our good shepherd, let's renew our commitment to be his good sheep, to give daily prayer the place it ought to have in our lives.