There is a song by the Beatles—A Day in the Life—and one of the stanzas begins, “I read the news today, oh boy” (Hopefully the tune won’t be stuck in your head all day). To that, I can just say, I also read the news today and… Oh, boy! It is no wonder that so many folks are on antidepressants! (So much so that there are traces of Prozac in our drinking water and even the fish! Given the state of things, that might not be such a bad thing.) But between the news and life in general, there are a good many walking around all day, wondering how it could possibly all work out. Then, in light of this state of affairs, we have someone come along like Julian of Norwich, the patron saint of this chapel, who says something that seems to be absolutely ridiculous—most of you can quote it: “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”
Those are actually words that Jesus spoke to Julian, and they are also proof texting—pulling out that bit that makes you happy. You see, in Julian’s thirteenth revelation in her Revelations of Divine Love, she reveals that she wondered, “why, in his great foreseeing wisdom, God had not prevented the beginning of sin.” Why doesn’t God stop all this craziness in the world and the harm that people do? It is here that Jesus spoke the “all shall be well” message, but the complete message was, “Sin is befitting, but all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.” Folks use that message without the “Sin is befitting” bit as some sort of mantra for everything that goes wrong in their lives, even down to a bad hair day, when in truth, it speaks about sin—our sins and the sins of others, both great and small; things that are heard about worldwide and those things that only you know about. But if that is the case, then why would Jesus say sin is befitting?
Julian explains that it was revealed to her that the crucifixion of Jesus was the greatest possible sin, evil, and harm that had ever occurred or would ever occur. However, sin is befitting because, as the Lord told her, “I have turned the greatest possible harm into good, it is my will that you should know from this that I shall turn all lesser evil into good.” Jesus overcoming the greatest of all sins, which was committed against Him, shows us that he is capable of overcoming all other evil in the world. Hence, all shall be well. The state of the world is, at times, wretched, but… all shall be well.
There is a second reason that sin is befitting, however, if my understanding of what Julian is saying is correct, the Lord tells her that knowing this second reason is above her pay grade.
Regardless, in this thirteenth revelation, the Lord sums up for Julian and for us what the “all shall be well” statement ultimately means: “I [the Lord] am keeping you very safe.” “I am keeping you very safe.” Therefore, as St. Paul taught us in our lesson, “Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who has promised is faithful.”
Dame Julian of Norwich, a 14th-century anchoress (one who withdraws from society), provides us with many beautiful glimpses of our Lord.
A prayer from Julian—Let us pray: God, of thy goodness, give me Thyself; for Thou art enough for me, and I can ask for nothing less that can be full honor to Thee. And if I ask anything that is less, ever Shall I be in want, for only in Thee have I all. Amen
Jesus withdrew in a boat to a deserted place by himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns. When he went ashore, he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion for them and cured their sick. When it was evening, the disciples came to him and said, “This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.” Jesus said to them, “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.” They replied, “We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish.” And he said, “Bring them here to me.” Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven and blessed and broke the loaves and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And all ate and were filled, and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full. And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children.
In 1996, Linda Ellis wrote a poem. If you look at the cover of your program, you’ll see what the poem is about. It appears right there between 1935, the year of Paul’s birth, and 2025, the year of his death. It is the dash, which is the name of the poem. Ultimately, the poem asks the question, “What does that dash represent and say about your life? How did you live your life?”
I remembered that poem as I considered the dash on the front of the program, which represents Paul’s life, and I came to the conclusion that Paul’s dash represents much, but that it should have an asterisk after it, directing us to a footnote. In the footnote, we would not find more details of his life; instead, there would be this list, these guiding principles that essentially formed a pillar upon which Paul’s life stood. As his priest, what delighted me was that at the base, the foundation of everything he said or did was God and his faith in Jesus.
“A good Life to me is as follows: Keeping God and Jesus in our minds often.”
Having known Paul for over ten years, I know that these words weren’t just lip service. He didn’t write this list expecting others to one day find it, and so he said to himself, “Oh, I’d better put God first so that when everyone reads this, they’ll believe I was a righteous dude.” No, I don’t believe that for a second. After many long conversations with him about his faith, I know, without hesitation, he believed that Jesus was his Savior and that it was only through God that he was able to accomplish anything. Therefore, I can say to you without hesitation that he has made his eternal home in that Heavenly Kingdom with his Savior, and has been reunited with his beloved Joan and son David, along with his mom and dad.
On that note, if I may speak to Paul directly… “I told you so!”
Anyhow, in our reading from Matthew, when the disciples told Jesus to send the people away because there was nothing to eat, Jesus replied, “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.” It doesn’t take a close scrutiny of Paul’s life to realize that he lived as though the Lord Jesus had spoken those words directly to him. Like this ballpark, there are countless public reminders of his works, but I would wager that for every known act of kindness, there are literally hundreds that you will never hear about. For Paul, it was never about the recognition. It was always about the serving—living out the true spirit of the Lord’s words. And I am quite certain he would encourage us to do the same. For as Pope Francis once noted, “Life is of no use if not used to serve others.”
For each of us, a day will come when a dash separates two dates. What will your dash say about you? And if there is an asterisk directing to a footnote, what will the reader discover as your guiding principles? If you are still trying to sort all that out, I believe Paul would encourage you to put the Lord Jesus first and know that every good gift flows from Him.
One such gift from God is a good friend. Doug Frantz, one of Paul’s friends, will now share with us what that means to him.
I take no credit for this one. Mike Goodwin, a young Black man, is a comedian, speaker, and leadership coach. You can find plenty of his videos online; that’s where I discovered this story he shares about his grandmother.
Mike says, “My grandmother says there are only two things in your life that you have to worry about: whether you’re healthy or whether you’re sick. If you’re healthy, you ain’t got nothing to worry about. But if you’re sick, you’ve got two things to worry about: whether you’re gonna get better or whether you’re gonna get worse. If you get better, you’ve got nothing to worry about. But if you get worse, you’ve got two things to worry about: whether you’re going to live or whether you’re going to die. If you live, you’ve got nothing to worry about. If you die, you’ve got two things to worry about: whether you go to heaven or whether you go to hell. If you go to heaven, you’ve got nothing to worry about. If you go to hell, you’ve got two things to worry about: crispy or extra crispy.”
For many, a life with God has much to do with Heaven and Hell. For them, this is how the conversation of God begins: “Do you want to go to Heaven?” With that question, the opposite is implied: “Do you want to go to Hell?” So, if I approach someone and ask, “Do you want to go to Heaven?”, who do you imagine is going to say, “No, I’m good with Hell.” When the one asking the question, “Do you want to go to Heaven?” receives confirmation, “Yes, I want to go to Heaven,” the next question will be, “Do you accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior?” If the person responds affirmatively, “Yes, I accept Jesus as my Lord and Savior,” you have what is known as “the Moment of Salvation.”
This Moment of Salvation has a great deal to the sorrow and repentance of sin, the turning to Jesus, and making amends for wrongs done. Again, not a thing in the world wrong with any of this; however—my dear Protestant leaning friends, please don’t shoot the teacher, just presenting the history here—this idea of a Moment of Salvation didn’t really come about until the Great Awakening of the 17th and 18th centuries. Prior to this, salvation was more a journey than a moment, and that journey began when you heard the words of Jesus, “Follow me.”
“Follow me” implies not a moment of salvation but a journey of salvation and a lifetime of sanctification—the process of discipleship, that is, each day becoming more of a follower of Jesus. In following, we begin to live the life He calls us to—a life where we believe in Him and His word, a life of denying ourselves, a life of taking up our cross, a life of being a servant, a life of proclaiming the Good News, all of which is a life that cannot be sustained by only wanting to avoid Hell and go to Heaven. Therefore, Jesus never asked anyone if they wanted to go to Heaven. Jesus asked, “Do you love me?”
Peter denied Jesus three times on the night before the crucifixion; therefore, to restore him, Jesus asked Peter three times, “Do you love me?” However, this question to Peter wasn’t only about restoring him. It was also about the journey and sanctification through discipleship. In asking, “Do you love me?” Jesus was also asking, “Will you follow me? Do you believe in me? Will you deny yourself? Will you take up your cross? Will you be a servant? Will you lay down your life as I have laid down Mine? Will you do all these things and more because this is what it means to love Me?” In light of that, “Do you want to go to Heaven?” is a child’s question, a “no-brainer.” However, the answer to the question, “Do you love me?” is not. It isn’t about a moment of salvation or a moment in time. The answer to the question, “Do you love me?” is a lifetime.
Remember when Jesus said, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven. On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’ Then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you; go away from me, you who behave lawlessly.’” (Matthew 7:21-23) How could such a thing happen? Why is that? Because there are many who will say they want to go to Heaven, but not all are willing to give up their lives for Jesus. Not all can say they love Jesus as He calls us to.
What’s also interesting about this exchange with Peter is that Jesus did not say, “I love you, Peter, do you love me?” Why? As we said last week, Jesus proved His love on that hill outside of Jerusalem where He was crucified. If Peter didn’t understand that then, and we don’t understand that now, then we are not paying attention. Jesus’ crucifixion and death on the Cross declared in no uncertain terms, “God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son.” Now Jesus, now God asks us, “Do you love me?”
When asked which was the greatest commandment, Jesus said, “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment.” (Matthew 22:37-38)
When Jesus asked Peter, “Do you love me?” he was asking Peter, “Do you agree with this? Will you love Me with all that you are?”
When Peter said, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you,” Jesus told Peter, “Then go, feed my sheep, and fulfill the second greatest commandment—‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” (Matthew 22:39)
When you die, you’ve got two things to worry about: whether you go to heaven or whether you go to hell. If you love God, if you love Jesus in the way He calls us to… you’ve got nothing to worry about.
Let us pray: God, our Father, may we love You in all things and above all things. May we reach the joy which You have prepared for us in Heaven. Nothing is good that is against Your Will, and all that is good comes from Your Hand. Place in our hearts a desire to please You and fill our minds with thoughts of Your Love, so that we may grow in Your Wisdom and enjoy Your Peace. Amen.
Before moving to Enid, I never once in my life said, “You know, I think I wanna live in Oklahoma.” It never really crossed my mind. I suspect the same is true for many of you gathered here today. This may be the first and last time you will ever be in Enid. And that’s OK. We all have our lives, and God allows us to live them.
However, due to this, you probably don’t know Paul in the same way as those who live here. I believe it would be very hard for someone who does not live here to grasp what he meant to this community. That’s not a criticism, and please don’t take it as such. It’s just the way things are. Even so, you won’t understand what he meant to Enid, America. He has left a remarkable legacy. It’s a legacy that you can be very, very proud of.
On the surface, that legacy is easy to see. There are the companies he built, the projects he funded, the ballparks, and the soccer fields. There are all sorts of things, and everywhere you turn, you’ll see his name. But that’s not because Paul was a big flashy kind of guy. He wasn’t running around trying to make a name for himself. He didn’t drive a fancy sports car… and can I just say thanks be to God for that, because he was a really terrible driver. He didn’t wear the latest fashion. If you didn’t know who he was, he was just this nice old guy. In these last years, if you ran into him around town, it was more than likely at one of the grocery stores where he would be stocking the shelves with beef jerky. If you saw Tammy driving him somewhere, there’s a good chance they were out delivering meals to the poor and homebound. And if it were a Sunday morning, you would find him sitting right there in the front row. And, when it was time to pray, you would find him there on his knees.
There’s the outward legacy that everyone knows, but there’s another that you had to be here to truly witness in order to understand why this town loves him the way they do.
You see, Paul was a builder. Yes, he built companies, but more importantly, and the reason he could build companies is that instead of seeing a company as something made of brick and steel, he saw the company as the people. Paul built companies because he built people. He gave them the tools they needed to succeed. He provided the encouragement for them to realize they could do great things and become builders themselves.
In our Gospel reading today, the disciples wanted to send the people away so that they could go and find something to eat. Jesus said to him, “They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.” So often when we read that text, we think that Jesus is simply talking about food. Feed the hungry. They’re broke, they don’t have money. They don’t have food. Give them something to eat. However, there are many different ways to give someone something to eat, because the phrase is a way of saying give them what they need to grow, to have a life, to have joy, to fulfill potential. Give them what they need to have life, and to have it abundantly. When Jesus said, “Give them something to eat,” he was saying, “Build them up,” and that is Paul’s legacy. He was a builder. He was a builder of people, helping them to realize their own great worth.
For some of you, this may very well be the last time you’re in Enid, America. Even so, Paul has passed on this legacy to you. It’s a legacy that conveys the same message that Jesus said to his disciples, “You give them something to eat.” In your communities, with your families and friends and the strangers in your midst, you give them something to eat. Take this legacy and pass it along. Become builders yourselves.
Today, we mourn our loss, and today we give thanks. We mourn because, for a time, we are separated from all those who have gone before us. We give thanks because, on this day, through the power of the resurrection, Paul has been reunited with Joan and David, his mom and dad, and with all those who have gone before. Above all this is the fact that Paul has entered Our Father’s House and has been welcomed into the very Kingdom of God. In the words of the Psalmist, “This is the Lord’s doing, and it is marvelous in our sight.”
Two brothers went to an elder monk who lived alone in Scete. The first one said, “Father, I have learned all of the Old and New Testaments by heart.” The elder replied, “You have filled the air with words.” The other brother said, “I have copied out the Old and New Testaments and have them in my hut.” To this, the elder responded, “You have filled your window with parchment, but do you not know Him who said, ‘The kingdom of God is not in words, but in power?’ and again, ‘Not those who hear the law will be justified before God, but those who carry it out.’”
As holy as scripture is and as life-giving as the sacred texts are, they remain limiting, for if we find Jesus only in the words, He is confined to our intellectual ability to understand that which cannot truly be understood. But, as we know, Jesus is not just a figure in a book, nor a distant memory of ancient events; He is a living presence. Therefore, we are not only called to know about Jesus, but more importantly, we are called to know Jesus. We do this not only by listening to the voices of others, but also by hearing the voice of Jesus for ourselves.
My favorite monk, Thomas a Kempis, wrote, “O God, You Who are the truth, make me one with You in love everlasting. I am often wearied by the many things I hear and read, but in You is all that I long for. Let the learned be still, let all creatures be silent before You. You alone speak to me.”
Unless the Lord speaks to us and writes the words of scripture on our hearts, we are merely engaging in an academic exercise.
Holy Scripture does not say it specifically, but I feel as though St. Mark was someone who met Jesus, talked with Him, and so on. Scripture also indicates that he went on missions with Paul and Barnabas, and that he sat at the feet of the great Apostle Peter, learning much from him. Yet, even with all this, there had to come a day in his life when he set aside the writings and said, “Lord, You alone speak to me.” There must have been a day when he encountered and witnessed the crucified and resurrected Lord for himself, because his Gospel is a testimony to that encounter and a desire for you to have a similar experience.
The first words of his Gospel are, “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” From there, he narrates the story of Jesus in very succinct language.
In his Gospel, Mark tells the story of the Good News of Jesus Christ. After the apostles had encountered Jesus for themselves, they went out and proclaimed salvation so that others might experience Jesus—so that you and I might experience Jesus, not just in the words of the text but in our lives.
I encourage you, in your times of prayer and study, to set aside the scriptures and the prayer book—to set aside all those other voices, including your own—and say, “Lord, You alone speak to me,” allowing the One who has been handed down to us in the texts to speak to you personally.
I know I’ve shared this story at a funeral, but I don’t believe I’ve ever shared it with you.
A man was once sentenced to solitary confinement in a pitch-black prison cell. To relieve his boredom and keep his sanity, he threw a marble against the walls—day in, day out, bang, bang, bang. The marble would bounce off the wall onto the floor and then roll around the room until the man could locate it and repeat the procedure.
One day, he decided to do something different—he would throw the marble up and try to catch it as it came down. Of course, in the pitch black, he missed the catch quite often, so he would listen as the marble hit the floor and bounced around. Feeling around in the general direction of the sound, he would locate it and try again. The longer this went on, the more proficient he became, and the more proficient he became, the higher he would throw the marble. However, when he made his highest throw ever, he did not catch it, and neither was there any sound. The marble simply did not come back down. He became more and more disturbed. What had happened to his precious marble? How could it disappear into thin air like that?! He spent the rest of his life wondering what had happened to his marble, and it eventually drove him to madness, and he died.
We all have things we wonder about and questions that we seek answers to. Sometimes, we have questions about life: Why does so-and-so not love me? How come all my luck is bad? What did I do to deserve this?
At other times, we question the world around us: Why is the sky blue or the grass green? How was the universe formed? How does Santa get into houses without chimneys? (Just seeing if you were paying attention.)
We also have questions about our faith. Does God hear my prayers? Do I matter to God? Or even, is there a God?
For life’s questions, through our faith, we learn to understand and take each day as it comes. For the questions about the world around us, we explore and study. And for the questions about our faith, we pray and study scripture. However, when it comes to these questions of faith, we also tend to try to make a few deals with God. Why do the hard work if there’s a shortcut?
I’ve never been a Janis Joplin fan in the tiniest little bit, but I remember a song of hers that we would laugh and sing as kids, if only the first verse.
Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes-Benz? My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends
That’s about all we knew as kids, but it is the third verse that gets to the theological heart of the matter.
Oh, Lord, won’t you buy me a night on the town? I’m counting on you Lord, please don’t let me down Prove that you love me and buy the next round
And there it is. “Prove that you love me.” Prove to me that You hear my prayers. Prove to me that I matter to You. Prove to me that You are there.
The first stanza of the poem, Doubt, by Norman Shirk
Let me meet you on the mountain, Lord, just once. You wouldn’t have to burn a whole bush, Just a few smoking branches, And I would surely be your Moses
In the end, it all comes down to the same statement: “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”
It is easy to criticize poor ol’ Thomas, but there’s a bit of him—maybe a little or maybe a lot—there’s a bit of Thomas in us all.
Like Thomas, in order to increase our faith, we ask the Lord to meet us halfway. However, He already has. The Lord Jesus met us halfway between heaven and hell. He met us on that hill outside of Jerusalem. He met us outside the empty tomb, and He continues to meet us every day exactly where we are. He also meets us at that altar in the Sacrament of His body and blood.
But you say, “Yes, yes, Father John. That’s real nice, but today, I want to be Thomas. I want to see Him, hear Him, and touch Him. I need the burning bush. I need the missing piece of the puzzle. I need to find the stupid marble that fella pitched up into the air and never came back down. Give me these things, and I will.”
A line from a movie I watched inspired the title of my blog—Candle in a Cave. In the movie, an older priest tells a younger one, “We are all blind men in a cave looking for a candle that was lit 2,000 years ago.”
In some sense, this is true because I can’t show you a burning bush or guide your hands and allow you to touch the wounds of Christ. Sorry, I can’t do it. If I could, we would have folks flocking to this church by the millions to see it. Why? Because they want God to prove Himself to them, to give them a sign. Like Job, they ask God to explain Himself.
But remember, the Lord was patient with Job for a while, but after much questioning, the Lord answered, “Who is this that darkens my counsel with words without knowledge?” “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation? Tell me, if you understand. Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know! Who stretched a measuring line across it? Who created the sky, the animals? Were you there when I breathed life into the dust and created you?”
Like Job, and even during Jesus’ time on earth, we desire signs and wonders, miracles. Scripture states that at one point during Jesus’ ministry, some Pharisees and teachers of the law questioned him: “Teacher, we want to see a miraculous sign from you.” Jesus answered, “A wicked and adulterous generation asks for a miraculous sign! But none will be given it except the sign of the prophet Jonah. For as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of a huge fish, so the Son of Man will be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth.”
You see, the problem is not with God; it is with us. The Lord has already given us a sign. After three days and three nights in the heart of the earth, He rose! How? Truly, the Lord only knows. As the Psalmist says, “Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.” But Jesus rose from the grave. How much more proof does a person need? Just because there were no witnesses to the resurrection, does it mean it did not occur? No. Remember what Billy Graham said, “Can you see God? You haven’t seen him? I’ve never seen the wind. I see the effects of the wind, but I’ve never seen the wind. There’s a mystery to it.”
No one witnessed the resurrection of Jesus, but from that day forward, we have all been witnesses to, and have experienced for ourselves, the effects of the resurrection—this new life in Christ Jesus—and it didn’t involve getting a Mercedes-Benz. Therefore, “Do not doubt but believe.”
Remember our prisoner and his marble? When the guards later entered the cell to remove his body, a glint of light caught one of the guards’ eyes. He looked up toward the ceiling to see the most astonishing sight—a marble caught in a spider’s web. “Of all the crazy things,” he thought. “How on earth did the spider manage to get a marble up there?” He spent the rest of his life wondering.
There are many mysteries in our lives with God, things we can wonder about and seek answers to throughout our lives. However, the question of the resurrection is not one of them, for the proof is all around us.
Let us pray: Praised be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, He who in His great mercy gave us new birth, a birth unto hope which draws its life from the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead; a birth to an imperishable inheritance, incapable of fading or defilement, which is kept in heaven for you who are guarded with God’s power through faith; a birth to a salvation which stands ready to be revealed in the last days. Amen.
From Catherine Emmerich: “TOWARDS the close of the Sabbath-day, John came to see the holy women. He endeavoured to give some consolation, but could not restrain his own tears, and only remained a short time with them. They had likewise a short visit from Peter and James the Greater, after which they retired to their cells, and gave free vent to grief, sitting upon ashes, and veiling themselves even more closely.
Later that evening, “about nine o’clock at night,” the Blessed Virgin went out alone. Catherine Emmerich writes, “I saw her stop suddenly in a very solitary spot, and look upwards in an ecstasy of delight, for on the top of the town wall, she beheld the soul of our Lord, resplendent with light without the appearance of a wound, and surrounded by patriarchs. He descended towards her, turned to his companions, and presenting her to them, said, ‘Behold Mary, behold my Mother.’ He appeared to me to salute her with a kiss, and he then disappeared… This sight filled her with inexpressible joy, and she immediately rejoined the holy women, who were busily employed in preparing the perfumes and spices.
The Lord, speaking through the Prophet Ezekiel, said, “I am going to open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people; and I will bring you back to the land of Israel. And you shall know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people. I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act.”
On this day, Jesus has been going about His Father’s business, descending into Hell and proclaiming release to those held captive. Now, He is bringing them forth, just as Ezekiel prophesied.
The bones of those held captive in Hell were restored, and the flesh returned. The sinews and skin were knit back together, and their bodies became whole. Then “the breath came into them, and they lived, and stood on their feet, a vast multitude.” And Jesus, banner in hand, leads them out of the pit and into the light of God. It is this great exodus that Catherine describes and that the Virgin Mary witnessed.
In the end, it is all a mystery, yet we begin to see in that mirror dimly what has occurred; however, we also begin to glimpse our own future.
Gregory of Nyssa, one of the Cappadocian Fathers and a primary contributor to the Nicene Creed, wrote in the 4th century, “Ezekiel, with prophetic spirit, has surpassed all time and space and with his power of prediction has stood at the very moment of the resurrection. Seeing the future as already present, he has brought it before our eyes in his description.”
There is the release of those held captive in Hell, but it is also a vision of our release from death. It is quite a spectacular scene and offers great hope to those who call upon the Name of the Lord. However, this resurrected life isn’t only about a distant future after we’ve been in the ground for so many years; Jesus has made it available to us today.
St. Paul, writing to the Romans, states, “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.” Through our baptism, we are raised—resurrected—with Christ Jesus, and the resurrected life is ours today.
So, ask yourself this: If I have been given the resurrected life today, do I still live as though I am nothing more than a pile of bones? Or do I take in this breath of God that has been breathed into me and allow it to fill me with faith, hope, and love?
This is the night we declare, “Christ is risen!” Believe it. Embrace it. Rise with Him into a glorious new life.
“Jesus, in the vestibule, told John to take a basin, and James a pitcher filled with water, with which they followed him into the room, where the chief steward had placed another empty basin.
“Jesus, on returning to his disciples in so humble a manner, addressed them a few words of reproach on the subject of the dispute which had arisen between them, and said among other things, that he himself was their servant, and that they were to sit down, for him to wash their feet. They sat down, therefore, in the same order as they had sat at table. Jesus went from one to the other, poured water from the basin which John carried on the feet of each, and then, taking the end of the towel wherewith he was girded, wiped them. Most loving and tender was the manner of our Lord while thus humbling himself at the feet of his Apostles.”
And then there was Peter. “‘You will never wash my feet.’ Jesus answered, ‘Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.’ Simon Peter said to him, ‘Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!’”
It is easy to pick on Peter, but would we have acted any differently? Jesus is kneeling before you and says He’s about to wash your feet. What do you do? Yeah. Me too. “Lord, this is so far below You, and I am so unworthy of such an honor.” Yet, as with Peter, this act of washing the disciples’ feet points to something beyond itself.
Jesus says, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” The term “share” can also be interpreted as “heritage” or “inheritance.” In the context of the Old Testament, the Lord speaks to Moses about the Israelites’ inheritance, which is the Land of Canaan, also known as the Promised Land. The Lord declares, “This is the land that shall fall to you for an inheritance, the land of Canaan as defined by its borders.” (Numbers 34:2) In the New Testament, we learn that Jesus will say to the righteous, “Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.” (Matthew 25:34) Unless Jesus washes Peter’s feet, Peter will have no part in the New Promised Land, the very Kingdom of God.
However, remember what Jesus said before he washed their feet. He said, “You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” This indicates that foot washing is not only about humbly serving one another. It is also pointing to something greater than itself, and the Disciples would not understand until after the Resurrection. St. Paul says it plainly in his letter to the Philippians—“Being found in human form, [Jesus] humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” (Philippians 2:8)
The washing of the Disciples’ feet is pointing to the cleansing of sin from their souls, but not just theirs “only but also for the sins of the whole world.” We, like Peter and everyone else who desires the Kingdom of God, must submit to the humility of Jesus and allow Him to wash our feet—allow Him to wash our souls, for “no one comes to the Father except through” Him, and these great acts He performed in the Upper Room and on the hill outside Jerusalem, upon the Cross.
Tonight, I invite you to come forward so that I can learn more about the humility of our Savior by washing your feet. However, remember that these acts serve as an example established by Jesus. Therefore, we are not only witnesses to them but also called to practice them. As Jesus tells us, “Very truly, I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them. If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them.”
Today, in The Dolorous Passion by Anne Catherine Emmerich, we turn our attention to Jesus’ most Blessed Mother. From Chapter 45:
“What words can, alas, express the deep grief of the Blessed Virgin? Her eyes closed, a death-like tint overspread her countenance; unable to stand, she fell to the ground, but was soon lifted up, and supported by John, Magdalen, and the others. She looked once more upon her beloved Son—that Son whom she had conceived by the Holy Ghost, the flesh of her flesh, the bone of her bone, the heart of her heart—hanging on a cross between two thieves; crucified, dishonoured, condemned by those whom he came on earth to save; and well might she at this moment be termed ‘the queen of martyrs.’”
I wondered about all we have been discussing during this Season of Lent, and then I thought of Jesus’ most blessed Mother. It was thirty-three years ago that she gave birth to him, and she knew Him well. He didn’t have to speak for her to understand how He was feeling. She may have been present when he rode into town on the donkey, the crowds joyful and excited, waving palm branches and shouting, “Blessed is he who comes in the Name of the Lord.” However, one look at Jesus’ face, and she knew something was wrong—terribly wrong.
Over the course of the next few days, she came to understand the inner torment He was experiencing, but there was nothing she could do. A day later, news arrived through one of Jesus’ terrified disciples that He had been arrested. There was the trial, the long road to Golgotha, the crucifixion, and now… now she sits at the foot of the cross, watching her Son die—the Son who was conceived in her by the Holy Spirit.
She was oblivious to the crowds around her, unconcerned about the danger she was placing herself in. Nothing distracted her from her Son on the cross. Not one thing could make her take her eyes off of God because she knew that if she was going to get through this, it would be only through Him, for He had come to save her as well.
We can learn many things from this most blessed of all women. We can learn love, patience, perseverance. We can learn what it means to hunger for God and to comfort one another. Therefore, I encourage you this Holy Week to take Mary as your companion. Ask her to reveal to you the things she witnessed and to help you experience the true Passion of our Lord. Ask her to guide you beyond your own fears and away from the crowds and the noise. Ask her to allow you to join her at the foot of the Cross, and then ask her to show you perfect love—perfect love that was crucified for her and for you.
Let us pray: O Holy Mary, my most gentle Lady, faithful Advocate of all Christians, in view of the extraordinary merits that were yours and which made you most pleasing to God, and in view of your every comforting gesture you made to your Son, as well as the countless tears you shed during his most bitter Passion, I ask you to have pity on me, poor creature that I am. Take me under your maternal care and include me among the number of your servants, whom you hold dear and embrace with your special love.
O glorious Virgin Mary, my only hope, before my soul should leave this body of mine, come and reveal your face to me. Direct your gentle and beautiful eyes of mercy toward me, the very eyes that had joyfully and so often looked upon the fruit of your womb, Jesus, and were wetted because the many tears shed during his Passion. Most holy Mother of Jesus, come and stand at my side together with your group of attending virgins and the holy assemblage of saints, as you had steadfastly and perseveringly stood unto the end, when your most beloved Son was about to die on the Cross. After my Lord Jesus Christ, your only Son, I find none so generous and eager to console someone in need as you, most amiable Mother of the Afflicted. Amen. (On the Passion of Christ: According to the Four Evangelists, p.117)
Candle in a Cave 