Yesterday in Rome, 27th of April, mother Roman Catholic Church made history by canonizing two new Saints. Pope John Paul II now St. John Paul II and also Pope John XXIII, now St. John XXIII. Please watch this video you will enjoy it.
Pal Ron,
Here We Embrace God, Faith, Equality, Truth, Love, and Justice for All of Humanity.
Easter is significant because it reveals that love is more powerful than death. Death is what frightens us most. It hems us in and it sets the ultimate limit to everything. If death has the final word, then all the evil in the world wins and there's no hope because there's nothing after death. That's the end.
But Easter is the declaration that God's love, the love that made the world and sustains it, is more powerful than death. That's a moment of liberation. It means death no longer enslaves us. The first Christians saw that the bursting forth of Christ from the tomb is the shattering of death's bonds. Even more, the Resurrection is God's great salvation of the world he has made. The God of the Bible doesn't despise matter--just the opposite. God makes everything good. And through the Resurrection, God ratifies, sums up, and valorizes his material creation. Therefore, Jesus' resurrection from the dead is not just about him. It's about all those who will participate in his Mystical Body, the Church, and it's about all of matter. In raising Jesus bodily from the dead, the Father is raising all of matter to new life. We see this as the Bible comes to its climax in the Book of Revelation. There we discover a New Heaven and a New Earth. Heaven is not just some purely spiritual space that our souls go to after we die. It's a new creation, God ratifying and elevating his whole work. That's the climax of the biblical revelation. The God who made the world good has now, out of a passion to set it right, saved that world by raising it up to a higher pitch. The Christian Church gives witness to that great fact. And that's what Easter is about. |
"Easter is the declaration that God's love, the love that made the world and sustains it, is more powerful than death."
- Father Robert Barron |
Today we
commemorate Holy Saturday, the quiet, somber interlude between Good
Friday and Easter Sunday. Instead of sharing my own reflections I'd like
to share this ancient homily, written by an anonymous source. It brings
to life that stirring line in the Apostle's Creed: "He descended into
hell."
What is happening? Today there is a great silence over the earth, a great silence, and stillness, a great silence because the King sleeps; the earth was in terror and was still, because God slept in the flesh and raised up those who were sleeping from the ages. God has died in the flesh, and the underworld has trembled. Truly he goes to seek out our first parent like a lost sheep; he wishes to visit those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. He goes to free the prisoner Adam and his fellow-prisoner Eve from their pains, he who is God, and Adam's son. The Lord goes into them holding his victorious weapon, his cross. When Adam, the first created man, sees him, he strikes his breast in terror and calls out to all: "My Lord be with you all." And Christ in reply says to Adam: "And with your spirit." And grasping his hand he raises him up, saying: "Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give you light. I am your God, who for your sake became your son, who for you and your descendants now speak and command with authority those in prison: Come forth, and those in darkness: Have light, and those who sleep: Rise. I command you: Awake, sleeper, I have not made you to be held a prisoner in the underworld. Arise from the dead; I am the life of the dead. Arise, O man, work of my hands, arise, you who were fashioned in my image. Rise, let us go hence; for you in me and I in you, together we are one undivided person. For you, I your God became your son; for you, I the Master took on your form; that of slave; for you, I who am above the heavens came on earth and under the earth; for you, man, I became as a man without help, free among the dead; for you, who left a garden, I was handed over to Jews from a garden and crucified in a garden. Look at the spittle on my face, which I received because of you, in order to restore you to that first divine inbreathing at creation. See the blows on my cheeks, which I accepted in order to refashion your distorted form to my own image. See the scourging of my back, which I accepted in order to disperse the load of your sins which was laid upon your back. See my hands nailed to the tree for a good purpose, for you, who stretched out your hand to the tree for an evil one. I slept on the cross and a sword pierced my side, for you, who slept in paradise and brought forth Eve from your side. My side healed the pain of your side; my sleep will release you from your sleep in Hades; my sword has checked the sword which was turned against you. But arise, let us go hence. The enemy brought you out of the land of paradise; I will reinstate you, no longer in paradise, but on the throne of heaven. I denied you the tree of life, which was a figure, but now I myself am united to you, I who am life. I posted the cherubim to guard you as they would slaves; now I make the cherubim worship you as they would God. The cherubim throne has been prepared, the bearers are ready and waiting, the bridal chamber is in order, the food is provided, the everlasting houses and rooms are in readiness; the treasures of good things have been opened; the kingdom of heaven has been prepared before the ages." |
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"Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give you light. "
- Ancient Homily on Holy Saturday |
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They are some of
the harshest, most shocking words that Jesus speaks in the Gospels:
"Anyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my
disciple."
Why do these words sound so counter-intuitive? Because ever since we were children, the culture has drilled the reverse into us. You're not happy because you don't have all the things you want to have. You will be happy only when you have so much money, or so big a house, or so much respect. You might not be happy now, but some day you might be if you acquire the right things. And what follows from this? Life becomes a constant quest to get, to attain possessions. Remember the foolish rich man from Jesus' parable, the one who filled his barns with all his possessions. Because he had no more room, he decided to tear his barns down and build bigger ones. Jesus calls him a fool because--and I want you to repeat this to yourself as you read it--you have everything you need right now, right in front of you, to be happy. I know it's completely counter-intuitive. We say, "No, that's not right at all; I'm very unhappy, but I'm trying to become happy, and I know I will be a lot happier when I get (fill in the blank)." But I want you to repeat this in your mind: "If I say, 'I'll be happy when,' I won't be happy when." What makes us truly happy? Forgetting our ego and its needs and desires, opening our eyes, minds, and hearts, and letting reality in. What makes us happy is always right in front of us, because what makes us happy is love, willing the good of the other. Next time you're unhappy, here's what you do: you love. When you're feeling miserable, write a note to someone who is lonely; make cookies for your kids; visit the nursing home; donate some money to a charity; sign up to help with an after-school program; say a prayer for someone who's in trouble. Love is not a feeling. It's an act of the will, and it's a great act of dispossession. This is the wonderfully liberating path of holiness that Jesus wants us to walk. He wants joy for us. But the path to joy is the path of detaching ourselves from getting and acquiring. |
"Love is not a feeling. It's an act of the will, and it's a great act of dispossession."
- Father Robert Barron |
The texts that Christians typically read on Palm Sunday have become so familiar that we probably don't sense their revolutionary power. But no first-century Jew would have missed the excitement and danger implicit in the coded language of the accounts describing Jesus' entry into Jerusalem just a few days before his death.
In Mark's Gospel we hear that Jesus and his disciples "drew near to Jerusalem, to Bethphage and Bethany on the Mount of Olives." A bit of trivial geographical detail, we might be tempted to conclude. But about five hundred years before Jesus' time, the prophet Ezekiel had relayed a vision of the "Shekinah" (the glory) of Yahweh leaving the temple, due to its corruption. However, Ezekiel also prophesied that one day the glory of God would return to the temple, and precisely from the same direction in which it had left: from the east (Ez. 43: 1-2). As the people saw Jesus approaching Jerusalem from the east, they would have remembered Ezekiel's vision and would have begun to entertain the wild but thrilling idea that perhaps this Jesus was, in person, the glory of Yahweh returning to his dwelling place on earth. He was the new and definitive temple, the meeting-place of heaven and earth. And there is even more to see in the drama. As the rabbi from Nazareth entered Jerusalem on a donkey, no one could have missed the reference to a passage in the book of the prophet Zechariah: "Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem! Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey" (Zech. 9:9). A thousand years before the time of Jesus, David had taken possession of Jerusalem, dancing before the Ark of the Covenant. David's son Solomon built the great temple in David's city in order to house the Ark, and for that brief, shining moment, Israel was ruled by righteous kings. But then Solomon himself and a whole slew of his descendants fell into corruption. The people began to long for the return of the king, for the appearance of the true David, the one who would deal with the enemies of the nation and rule as king of the world. The Biblical authors expected Yahweh to become king, precisely through a son of David, who would enter the holy city, not as a conquering hero, riding a stately Arabian charger, but as a humble figure, riding a young donkey. Could anyone have missed that this was exactly what they were seeing on Palm Sunday? Jesus was not only the glory of Yahweh returning to his temple; he was also the new David, indeed Yahweh himself, reclaiming his city and preparing to deal with the enemies of Israel. And this is why Pontius Pilate, placing over the cross a sign in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew announcing that this crucified Jesus is King of the Jews, became, despite himself, the first great evangelist! So the message delivered on Palm Sunday, in the wonderfully coded and ironic language of the Gospel writers, continues to resonate: heaven and earth have come together; God is victorious; Jesus is Lord. |
"Heaven and earth have come together; God is victorious; Jesus is Lord."
- Father Robert Barron |
When a prisoner escaped from Auschwitz in the summer of 1942, the Nazi soldiers imposed their penalty. They took all of the prisoners from the escapee's barracks and lined them up, and then at random chose a man to be put to death in retaliation. When the man broke down in tears, protesting that he was the father of young children, a quiet bespectacled man stepped forward and said, "I am a Catholic priest; I have no family. I would like to die in this man's place."
Pope John Paul II later canonized that priest, Saint Maximilian Kolbe. With brutal clarity, Kolbe allows us to see the relationship between suffering willingly accepted and salvation. He was consciously participating in the act of his Master, making up, in Paul's language, what is still lacking in the suffering of Christ. We see a similar example in Saint Francis. Among the many stories told about the joyful saint, one of the most affecting is that concerning his encounter with a leprous man. Young Francis had a particular revulsion for leprosy. Whenever he saw someone suffering from that disease, he would run in the opposite direction. One day, Francis saw a leper approaching, and he sensed the familiar apprehension and disgust. But then he decided, under the inspiration of the Gospel, to embrace the man, to kiss him, and to give him alms. Filled with joy, he made his way up the road. But when he turned around he discovered the man had disappeared. Once again, suffering was the concrete expression of love. When a mother stays up all night, depriving herself of sleep, in order to care for a sick child, she is following this same example, suffering so that some of his suffering might be alleviated. When a person willingly bears an insult, and refuses to fight back or return insult for insult, he is suffering for the sake of love. We shouldn't be surprised when we are called upon to suffer in this world. We have been given the privilege of carrying on Christ's work in just this way. |
"We shouldn't be surprised when we are called upon to suffer in this world."
- Father Robert Barron |
What was the world's greatest division, from the standpoint of a first-century Jew? The division between Jews and Gentiles. For centuries, Jews had defined themselves over and against the "other." Jews were the chosen people, gifted with the Law and divine revelation, peculiarly God's own. Throughout the Old Testament the Jews are warned not to mix and mingle with non-Jews, not to imitate their corrupt practices and depraved morals, not to eat the unclean foods that they eat, and above all, not to worship their gods.
There was between them a "wall of enmity," and we see this today. Consider all the walls that separate our various cultures and civilizations. There is still the literal wall between Israel and Palestine in the Holy Land. Within our own polity and our church, there's the wall that separates liberals and conservatives. Look to any social circle, high school, or parish and you'll see those same walls. Now mind you, I'm talking about walls of enmity, not separation as such. I'm glad that cultures and nations and groups are diverse. But diversity is one thing, enmity is another. These various forms of enmity are what prevent God's flock from finding unity. Jesus the King came to heal this unity. How did he do this work? In a way that was radically unexpected. He went to Jerusalem and mounted a throne, but the throne was a Roman cross. And he battled non-violently against evil, absorbing it through the divine forgiveness. That's how Jesus "broke down the dividing wall of enmity, through his flesh . . . and reconciled [everyone] with God, in one body, through the cross" (Eph 2:14-16). There was no question that Israel was divided, scattered, and that they needed a shepherd. But what occurred to the first Christians after the resurrection is that Jesus' work was meant, not just for Israel, but for the world. He was the Davidic King through whom Israel's God would complete his universal task of gathering his scattered people into one flock. |
"Jesus battled non-violently against evil, absorbing it through the divine forgiveness."
- Father Robert Barron |
Almsgiving is valuable because we're members of a mystical body-we're implicated in each other. I can never say that your suffering is not mine or that your neediness is not mine. All of us are co-implicated.
We're responsible for each other and giving alms is a very concrete way to acknowledge that. Almsgiving is also tied to the corporal and spiritual works of mercy. Every Catholic is obligated, everyday, to practice those. Almsgiving offers a very clear and concrete way to fulfill that obligation. |
"We're responsible for each other and giving alms is a very concrete way to acknowledge that."
- Father Robert Barron |
In the account of the Transfiguration, we hear that, "While [Jesus] was praying, his face changed in appearance and his clothing became dazzling white." The reference here is to Moses whose, face was transfigured after he communed with God on Mt. Sinai, but the luminosity is also meant to signal the invasion of God.
In the depths of prayer, when we have achieved a communion with the Lord, the light of God's presence is kindled deep within us, at the very core of our existence. It then begins to radiate out through the whole of our being. That's why it is so important that Luke mentions the clothing of Jesus becoming dazzling white. Clothes evoke one's contact with the outside world. When our clothes become radiant, we become light-bearers in the shadowlands. The God we discover in prayer should radiate out, through us, into the world, so that we become a source of illumination. In prayer today, ask the Lord to transfigure your soul, making it dazzling white. |
"The God we discover in prayer should radiate out, through us, into the world, so that we become a source of illumination."
- Father Robert Barron |
In St. Peter's great confession in Matthew 16, he correctly and with great intuitive power shows that he understands who Jesus is. He's not simply Elijah or one of the prophets, not just another great teacher, but the Messiah of God, the one, the deliverer of whom all the prophets spoke.
But then immediately Jesus reminds him of the kind of Messiah he would be: "The Son of Man must endure many sufferings, be rejected by the elders, the high priests, and the scribes, and be put to death." Well, how would this accomplish anything? How could this be anything but a repeat of all of the sad, fallen Jewish heroes of the past who were crushed by more powerful enemies? Because this Messiah would defeat the powers of the world, not by fighting them on their own terms, but by absorbing them, taking all the aggression they could muster and then swallowing them up in the ever-greater forgiveness of God. In the cross of Jesus, there is judgment, judgment on the false shepherds of the people and on the occupying powers that have overwhelmed the people. These powers are defeated with the weapons of love, compassion, forgiveness, non-violence; they are conquered by the suffering Messiah. What becomes clear in the Gospels is that this is God's way of battling evil. The world is transformed through the power of suffering love. That is the whole message of the crucified Messiah. |
"The world is transformed through the power of suffering love."
- Father Robert Barron |
In Dante's Purgatorio,
the theme of waiting is on prominent display. Dante and Virgil
encounter a number of souls who slouch at the foot of the mountain of
Purgatory, destined to make the climb to heaven but compelled for the
time being to wait. How long? As long as God determines.
This, I submit, is very hard for most of us. I suppose we human beings
have always been in a hurry, but modern people especially seem to want
what they want, when they want it. We are driven, determined,
goal-oriented, fast-moving. I, for one, can't stand waiting.
But is it possible that we are made to wait because the track
we are on is not the one God wants for us? G. K. Chesterton said that if
you are on the wrong road, the very worst thing you can do is to move
quickly. And there is the old joke about the pilot who comes on the
intercom and says, "I have good news and bad news, folks: The bad news
is that we're totally lost; the good news is that we're making excellent
time!"
Maybe we're forced to wait because God
wants us to seriously reconsider the course we've charted, to stop
hurtling down a dangerous road.
In this second half of Lent, ask yourself: are you on the right course? Do you need to adjust your direction?
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"Maybe we're forced to wait
because God wants us to seriously reconsider the course we've charted,
to stop hurtling down a dangerous road."
- Father Robert Barron |