Today is a feria, which is a weekday when there are no feast day celebrations. In such cases, we go back to the readings we heard this past Sunday—the fourth Sunday of Easter.
The Gospel lesson we read comes at the end of what is known as the Good Shepherd Discourse. It gets its name from a passage a few verses before what we read—Jesus said, “I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep.” (John 10:14-15)
As I mentioned on Sunday, the Shepherd has long been understood in the context of Holy Scripture and among the Israelites as one who guides the people in their daily activities and leads them in battle. We can understand this person to be someone who is obligated to perform these duties, but in truth, the Good Shepherd fulfills these duties out of love for the sheep. That love means the Shepherd will go to any extent to save the sheep. This saving does not always involve some great and terrible battle, but more often than not, it is a struggle that only the singular sheep and the Shepherd are aware of.
A member of a certain church who had previously attended services regularly stopped going. After a few weeks, the pastor decided to visit him. It was a chilly evening, and the pastor found the man at home alone, sitting before a blazing fire.
Guessing the reason for his pastor’s visit, the man welcomed him, led him to a large chair near the fireplace, and waited. The pastor made himself comfortable but said nothing. In the grave silence, he contemplated the dance of the flames around the burning logs.
After a few minutes, the pastor took the fire tongs, carefully picked up a brightly burning ember, and placed it to one side of the hearth all alone. Then, he sat back in his chair, still silent. The host watched all this in quiet fascination.
As the lone ember’s flame faded, a momentary glow appeared, and then its fire was no more. Soon, it became cold and dead.
Not a word had been spoken since the initial greeting.
Just before the pastor was ready to leave, he picked up the cold, dead ember and placed it back in the center of the fire. Immediately, it began to glow once more with the light and warmth of the burning coals around it.
As the pastor reached the door to leave, his host said, “Thank you so much for your visit and especially for the fiery sermon. I shall be back in church next Sunday.” (Source: Unknown)
Taking up a little child in His arms, Jesus said, “What do you think? If a man has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray? And if he finds it, truly, I say to you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine that never went astray. So it is not the will of my Father who is in heaven that one of these little ones should perish.” (Matthew 18:12-14)
The Good Shepherd—“He revives my soul and guides me along right pathways for his Name’s sake.” (Psalm 23:3)
I’ll close with a prayer. Thomas Merton wrote it on one of those days when he was struggling to stay on track. Let us pray: Good Shepherd, You have a wild and crazy sheep in love with thorns and brambles. But please don’t get tired of looking for me! I know You won’t. For You have found me. All I have to do is stay found.
Johnny Carson would begin one of his bits by saying something like, “Its so hot…,” and before he could fill in the blank, the audience would shout back, “How hot is it?” Carson would then fill in the rest. With that in mind, “I’m so confused…”
I’m more confused than an Amish electrician.
I’m more confused than a vegan at a BBQ.
I’m more confused than a goat on astroturf.
I’m more confused than a chameleon in a bag of Skittles.
And I’m also hoping you don’t feel that confused by the time I’m done with this sermon.
I’ve told you before that those who wrote Holy Scripture didn’t write fluff. When they communicate something, even the smallest detail carries significance and plays a role in our understanding of the passage. Today’s Gospel reading is no different.
The first two sentences we read: “At that time the festival of the Dedication took place in Jerusalem. It was winter, and Jesus was walking in the temple, in the portico of Solomon.”
Initially, the verse seems to only tell us that a Jewish festival was occurring in Jerusalem and that Jesus was present at the Temple. However, for a Jewish listener at the time it was written, those two sentences were like a bomb with the fuse lit—a bomb that was first constructed some six hundred years prior and spoken by the Prophet Daniel.
In the Book of Daniel, an angel of the Lord speaks to Daniel and tells of a day to come. A day when an enemy will rise up against God’s people. According to the words of the angel, “Forces sent by [this leader] shall occupy and profane the temple and fortress. They shall abolish the regular burnt offering and set up the desolating sacrilege.” (Daniel 11:31) About 450 years later, in 147 BC, this prophecy was fulfilled.
Antiochus IV, one of the Syrian kings, conquered Jerusalem. First Maccabees picks up the story: “Now on the fifteenth day of Chislev, in the one hundred forty-fifth year, [the enemy] erected a desolating sacrilege on the altar of burnt offering. They also built altars in the surrounding towns of Judah and offered incense at the doors of the houses and in the streets.” (1 Maccabees 1:54-55) Antiochus brought the sacrificial system of the Jews to an end, built a statue of Zeus inside the Temple of God, and then proceeded to sacrifice pigs on the altar (in the eyes of Jewish people, the pig is a filthy animal—unclean). This is the original Abomination of Desolation—an event that is detestable in the eyes of God and brings about great ruin.
Antiochus remained and began forcing the Israelites to worship the Syrian gods and to make sacrifices to them. However, when Daniel made the prophecy, he also said, “The people who are loyal to their God shall stand firm and take action.” (Daniel 11:32) Three years after the Abomination of Desolation, this part of the prophecy was fulfilled.
Antiochus’ men arrived in the town of Modein and were forcing the citizens to make sacrifices to the false gods. This is when they encountered Mattathias, a man zealous for God’s covenant and Law. He refused the orders to sacrifice and rebelled. It wasn’t long after that he died, but with his dying words, he said to his sons, “Now, my children, show zeal for the law and give your lives for the covenant of our ancestors.” (1 Maccabees 2:50) They did, led by one of Mattathias’ sons, Judas Maccabeus.
It took several years, but the Maccabeans were eventually able to retake Jerusalem and the Temple. They cleansed the Temple, tore down the profaned altar, and built another one. They then prepared all the sacred vessels and instruments so that the worship of the One True God could again take place. The only problem was that the sacred lampstand, the Menorah, required a specially prepared oil that took eight days to make ready, and they only had one day’s worth. Not wanting to delay the right worship of God by another minute, they began anyway, and the oil that was to last only one day lasted eight, until the new oil had been prepared—the Miracle of Light. Those eight days we know as Hanukkah. The word Hanukkah means dedication.
Put all of this together—the Maccabeans revolted against an occupying army, recaptured the Holy City, and rededicated the Temple of God. They celebrated with a great festival that lasted eight days. This celebration is known as Hanukkah, and is also known as the Festival of the Dedication. Our Gospel reading began, “At that time the festival of the Dedication took place in Jerusalem. It was winter, and Jesus was walking in the temple, in the portico of Solomon.”
Throughout the Scriptures, a shepherd is one who leads the people. All the way back to the Book of Numbers, we hear this. Moses asked the Lord, “Let the Lord, the God of the spirits of all flesh, appoint a man over the congregation who shall go out before them and come in before them, who shall lead them out and bring them in, that the congregation of the Lord may not be as sheep that have no shepherd.” (Numbers 27:16-17) The phrase “lead them out and bring them in” expresses the Hebrew idea of a person who manages the daily affairs of the people and leads them in battle. Judas Maccabeus was one who did just that; he was a shepherd for the people.
Now, during the Festival of Dedication, Jesus claims to be the Good Shepherd. He is claiming that He will lead the people and help them conquer their enemies. So, how do you think those who hear these words will respond?
I find it interesting that our Gospel reading ended with John, chapter 10, verse 30. In verse 30, Jesus said, “I and the Father are one,” but it is in verse 31 that we learn how those who heard Jesus’ words responded. “The Jews—[the religious leaders]—picked up stones again to stone him.” But why?
Jesus has already cleansed the Temple of the moneychangers, having done so in chapter 2 of John’s Gospel. Now, claiming to be the Good Shepherd, He declares that He will wage a battle against those who are now oppressing God’s people. You would have thought it would be the Romans, who were then occupying the land, that would become angry with Jesus, but no. It is the religious leaders. Why? Because they knew that Jesus was not talking about the Romans; he is talking about them—the religious leaders—and they don’t much like it.
Why is Jesus talking about the religious leaders? Because they have erected another Abomination of Desolation. It is detestable in the eyes of God and is bringing about great ruin. What is it? The religious leaders themselves and their application of God’s Law. “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you lock people out of the kingdom of heaven…. you tithe mint, dill, and cumin and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faith.” Shortly before this confrontation, Jesus had said to them, “You are of your father the devil, and your will is to do your father’s desires. He was a murderer from the beginning, and does not stand in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks out of his own character, for he is a liar and the father of lies.” (John 8:44) Jesus is saying to the religious leaders, ‘You are lying to the people. Through your application of God’s Law, you are driving the people from God and bringing ruin upon them all, and this is detestable to the Father.’
It seems that the Abomination of Desolation is a single event in the history of God’s people. However, it also appears that a “spirit” of the original Abomination of Desolation continued to work in the world during the time of Jesus. Therefore, the question we must ask ourselves today is: does this same spirit continue to work in our world? Is there an agent around us that is detestable to God and seeks to bring ruin? To make it personal, is there a spirit at work in your life doing the same?
I can think of several instances of this spirit working in the world, but then this would just turn into a commentary of sorts. But only you can identify and name the spirit working in you.
St. Paul wrote, St. Paul wrote, “Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price.” (1 Corinthians 6:19-20) So, if today were the Festival of Dedication and Jesus were walking through the temple of your body, what would He see? Would He see something that is bringing ruin to your life? Something that needs to be torn down and cast out? What would He see?
Allow Jesus to be the Good Shepherd who leads and guides you. If there is a spirit other than His working in you, ask Him to do battle with it, so that you may be set free from the one who seeks to separate you from God and bring you to ruin.
There is a time to sing, “Jesus loves me,” but there is also a time to roll up our sleeves and go to work. Jesus does love you, but don’t forget there’s still a battle taking place.
Let us pray: Holy Michael, the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; and do you, O Prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God cast into hell Satan and all the evil spirits who wander through the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen.
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.
Nicolas Bertin (1668-1736). La Résurrection du Christ
Sam died. His will provided $50,000 for an elaborate funeral.
As the last attendees left, Sam’s wife, Rose, turned to her oldest friend, Sadie, and said, “Well, I’m sure Sam would be pleased.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” replied Sadie, who leaned in close and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Tell me, how much did it really cost?”
“All of it,” said Rose. “$50,000.”
“No!” Sadie exclaimed. “I mean, it was very nice, but really… $50,000?”
Rose nodded. “The funeral was $6,500. I donated $500 to the church for the services, and the reception, food, and drinks were another $500. The rest went for the memorial stone.”
Sadie computed quickly. “$42,500 for a memorial stone?! Wow, how big is it?”
“Five and a half carats,” Rose said, waggling her fingers.
Today is a good day to laugh at death and the devil, for both have been conquered once and for all.
During this past Season of Lent, we’ve been meditating on passages from The Dolorous Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ—a series of visions given to blessed Catherine Emmerich. It was initially published in 1833 and is also the primary source of the movie The Passion of the Christ by Mel Gibson.
The visions provide a brutal account of the events throughout Holy Week, and we’ve looked at some of the more difficult passages, so today, I thought it only fair that I share a portion of the joyous conclusion. When studying these, it is important to keep in mind that they are visions; therefore, they are not biblical—there is no account of the resurrection in scripture. That said, perhaps they may spark our imaginations and offer some insight into that great event.
Chapter 63: The Resurrection of Our Lord.
“I beheld the soul of our Lord between two angels, who were in the attire of warriors: it was bright, luminous, and resplendent as the sun at midday; his soul penetrated the rock, touched the sacred body, passed into it, and the two were instantaneously united and became as one. I then saw the limbs move and the body of our Lord, being reunited to his soul and to his divinity, rise and shake off the winding sheet: the whole of the cave was illuminated and lightsome.
“At the same moment, I saw a frightful monster burst from the earth underneath the sepulcher. It had the tail of a serpent, and it raised its dragon head proudly as if eager to attack Jesus; and had likewise a human head. But our Lord held in his hand a white staff, to which was appended a large banner; and he placed his foot on the head of the dragon, and struck its tail three times with his staff, after which the monster disappeared….
“I then saw the glorified body of our Lord rise up, and it passed through the hard rock as easily as if the latter had been formed of some [soft] substance. The earth shook, and an angel in the garb of a warrior descended from Heaven with the speed of lightning, entered the tomb, lifted the stone, placed it on the right side, and seated himself upon it. At this tremendous sight, the soldiers fell to the ground and remained there, apparently lifeless.”
Can you see the angel of the Lord suddenly appearing before those soldiers, a mischievous grin on his face, asking, “How you doin’?” I somehow suspect that after those boys woke up, they probably had to go home and change their shorts.
Honestly, I don’t know how it all happened, but I do know this: Jesus rose from the dead. Say, “Amen.” We learn from the various Gospel accounts that the women and some of the disciples went to the tomb and found it empty. All that remained were the grave clothes. Some encounter angels, and Mary actually encounters the Risen Lord. Can you imagine what they were all thinking?
For me, I think at first I would have been like them—afraid, shocked, wondering what those evil men had done with my Lord’s body. Perhaps after a while, pieces would come into focus, only to blow away like wisps of fog.
The quote from N.T. Wright, which Diane shared with us on Good Friday, holds true not only for John’s Gospel but also for all the Gospel accounts and events of those days. He said, “I don’t know that any of us will ever be able to hold all this in our minds at any one time. John allows the images to build up, one upon another, upon another, until we’re overwhelmed by them. . . . The only way forward is to allow all the different ideas and levels, the clashes of meaning and misunderstanding, to echo around until they produce prayer, awe, silence, and love.” (John for Everyone, Part Two, p.104)
The same must have been true for the Disciples on that first Easter Sunday. Like us, they had all this information—the prophecies from Isaiah and Ezekiel about the coming Messiah, the salvation of the Gentiles, and the Psalmist’s words regarding the piercing of the Messiah’s hands and feet. They also had the sayings of Jesus: “The Son of Man must be killed.” “Destroy this temple, and in three days, I will raise it up.” “This is my body… my blood.” All this information and so much more before Jesus’ death, yet none of it coalesced until after the Resurrection. However, they kept watching and were patient. They remained focused on God, and then, like a rose blooming, it all came together.
St. Paul said to the Colossians, and it is also true for us, “the mystery hidden for ages and generations” has now been “revealed to his saints. To them”—to you!—“God chose to make known how great among the Gentiles are the riches of the glory of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.” (Colossians 1:25b-27)
It would be like stepping out of that tomb on the first Easter morning. While inside, objects are shrouded in shadows and darkness. Your mind races. What happened here? Then you step out into the clear light of the new day and realize this is all God’s doing, and it is all about God’s love for you. Everything, from the first day when God created the Heavens and the Earth, to Jesus’ first breath in the manger on that first Christmas some 2,000 years ago, to the sunrise of that first Easter Sunday, to this very day, everything has been and is about God’s love for you and His desire to draw you to Himself.
Laugh at death. Step out of the darkness and the shadows of your self-created tomb and walk in the light and life of Christ Jesus. Rise with Him into life eternal.
Candle in a Cave 