Homily for March 30, 2008 Second Sunday of Easter

Doubting Thomas????
I want to challenge the frame through which we have read this Gospel for many years, and maybe suggest a new frame.
How many of you are immediately drawn to the image of the doubting Thomas? [Show of hands. Almost everyone.] Down through the years we've seen this as the story of Thomas doubting. How many of you were raised to think of doubting as bad? [Another show of hands. Almost everyone.]
I remember the old Baltimore Catechism that we -- people my age -- were taught catechism from. How many of you learned religion from the Baltimore Catechism? [About 30%] Okay, a lot of you. How many of you don't even know what the Baltimore Catechism is? [About 60%] Well, people my age -- and I don't know where the cutoff is, but many younger than me -- when we learned our religion, there was a green book called the Baltimore Catechism that was put out by the council of Baltimore back in the 19th century. The way we were taught religion was memorization of the questions and answers from that catechism.
Who made me? God made me. Why did God make me? God made me to know, love and serve him in this life and to be happy with him forever.
What is sin? Sin is . . . [I forgot the definition but in the list of sins was doubting one’s faith.]
Now, in the list of sins in the Baltimore Catechism, doubting your faith was a sin. Can you relate to that? Now, let me ask you, if doubting your faith is a sin, how would you handle doubts? You will them away, right? You exercise your will power and, "Go away, doubt," right? It's bad.
I was talking last week to somebody who mentioned that she went to confession sometime in her younger years and confessed to doubting her faith, and the priest told her she was excommunicated. I heard your gasp. Well, many of us come from there. The woman responded by walking out. “If I’m excommunicated, then I’m getting out of this little box.
I want to suggest, I think doubt can be good and even healthy and is maybe something we can embrace. Most important, I want to suggest that the Gospel today is not about the doubting Thomas. First, look at the other disciples. When the women came and told them that Jesus had risen from the dead, did they believe it? No.
One woman once told me that the message of the resurrection was first entrusted to women, who took it to the first Pope, and he didn't believe them. Her comment: He had to see it for himself. Nothing has changed.
The other disciples didn't believe, either. When did they believe? When they saw his hands and his side! So Thomas wasn't asking for anything more than the others got. "I want to see it." A very reasonable position.
And does Jesus shame Thomas in the Gospel? Thomas's response, by the way, is the clearest and the highest and the strongest statement of faith that we see in the Gospel: My Lord and my God. Now, are you going to entrust that line to somebody that you just shamed, and to somebody that you want to portray as a bad example? I wouldn't, if I were writing the story.
So I want to suggest that what this Gospel really calls our attention to is the overwhelming generosity of Jesus in giving Thomas what he needed. Thomas's faith is not a response to putting his finger in the nail mark or his hand in the side. It isn’t something he is shamed into. Thomas's faith is a response to the generous offer of Jesus, "Here, take your finger, put it in the nail marks. Take your hand, put it in my side."
With that background, as I prayed this morning over this Gospel, the overwhelming thing I was led to, as I look back over my life --and I've had many moments of doubt in my life. Do you know, the biggest period of intellectual doubt about my faith I ever experienced was in the retreat I made the week before I was ordained a priest. Here I was, preparing for ordination, and suddenly, during that retreat, this huge doubt hit me: How do I know it's all true? Well, there have been many other moments of doubt in my life, but I don't want to dwell on those.
What I was led to dwell on in prayer this morning is how generous God has been, and how many moments in my life God has given me exactly what I need. Sometimes it's been in the presence of people who came into my life at just the right moment. Sometimes it's been because of things that happened just at the right moment. Sometimes it's been because God had to wait till I was ready.
There's an old Zen saying: When the pupil is ready, the teacher will appear. Well, that's been my experience in life. Can you relate to that, as you look back over your life? AS you look back over your life -- well, how many of you have ever had moments of doubt? [Show of hands. Everyone.] Welcome to the club.
In the 60s there was a song by Simon and Garfunkel. I'll try to sing it; you know, I can't sing very well, but it anyway, it went, "Hello darkness my old friend..." How many of you remember that song? I sing that to myself a lot. When I get angry I sing, "Hello, anger, my old friend. You've come to be with me again." Or when I experience doubt, "Hello, doubt, my old friend."
So welcome to the club if you've experienced doubt. But also welcome if you've experienced God's generosity in responding to you with exactly what you need.
That was my goal today. I would like to encourage you to reframe this Gospel, not in terms of Thomas's doubt, but in terms of Jesus's generous offer and God's generous offer to you down through the ages.
There's another song that we sometimes sing, "Were you there when they crucified my Lord?" How many of you know that song? Well, I think John, in the Gospel today, suggests that the answer is yes. Through our reading of the Gospel, through our retelling of the story, through our celebration of Holy Week, through our life together and the witness of people who have come into our lives, we are there. And we are there today, as Jesus lives in the midst of his disciples and as he says to them, "Peace be with you." He is saying to us also: PEACE BE WITH YOU. RECEIVE THE HOLY SPIRIT. IF YOU FORGIVE SINS, THEY ARE FORGIVEN.

Homily for March 23, 2008 Easter Sunday

March 23, 2008, Easter

There's a certain incompleteness to the Easter story, and I want you to feel it today. I mean, how does it end? You go to an empty tomb, and an angel says, "He's not here, but go to Galilee and you'll see him there." That's it.
The Gospels tell it in many different ways. The original ending in Mark's Gospel was that the women ran from the tomb afraid and didn't say anything. End of story. In Matthew's Gospel Jesus meets them on the way, but the story is the same. The tomb is empty. "You won't find him here. Go to Galilee and you'll see him there." Do you feel the incompleteness of that? I mean, there are a lot of questions.
What will they find if they go to Galilee? Will they go, or won't they go? It's not the way I would write the story. When I think about it, I would write it the way Harry Potter ended. How many of you read the last Harry Potter? You know how it ends. There's an epilogue. Harry Potter is in his 30s, he married his childhood sweetheart, he has the normal family life he always wanted, and he's sending his kids off to Hogwarts. That's the way we like stories to end.
I would like this story to end with Jesus walking in to Pontius Pilate and saying, "Look, here I am," and Pontius Pilate coming to believe. I would like the story to end with Jesus going to the scribes and the Pharisees and showing them who's who. I would like everybody to live happily ever after.
But that's not what the Gospel gives us. "He's not here. Go to Galilee." Well, some of them did go to Galilee, and what did they find? I'm drawing from many of the Gospel stories now.
Peter finds resolution. There's a beautiful story in John's Gospel where Jesus and Peter are having breakfast, and Jesus says, "Do you love me," and asks him three times. And three times Peter says yes. And Jesus says, "Feed my lambs," and "Come after of me." I like that ending. Peter gets resolution.
The scribes and the Pharisees don't. All of a sudden these men are working miracles and saying they're doing it in the name of Jesus, whom they crucified, and so the story goes on and on. And for them it's a nightmare. "We thought we put that man away, and here you are determined to keep him alive."
The Roman Empire found its resolution. What are we celebrating in Rome today? Easter, the resurrection of the one Rome crucified, and who is celebrating it? The Pope, whom we believe to be Peter’s successor. The Roman Empire has long since gone. The Church continues.
Some men and women went to Galilee, and they experienced Jesus as a living presence. They came to understand; they came to know that he was still with them. And they went back and they continued his work and his mission.
Let me ask you, is the story over? You see, it's a never ending story. That's the significance of going back to Galilee. "Go back where it all started. I'll meet you there again and we'll start all over again, and the story will continue." I believe the story continues on the near east side of Indianapolis. It continues at 125 North Oriental. I believe it continues in my life.
Jesus is not somebody who lived and died 2,000 years ago. He's somebody who is very much alive to me today. He's alive and present in the breaking of the bread. He's alive and present in your life. Actually, I'm more certain that he's alive and present in you than I am that he's alive and present in me, and that's not a lack of faith. I just say I sure hope he's living in me, but I know he's living in you because I've experienced it in you. I've experienced it in you more clearly and more strongly than I've experienced it in me.
And you see, I think this is the challenge of the Easter Gospel. Will you go to Galilee, whatever Galilee means to you? Will you go, and what will you experience if you go? Can you believe in that hope that if you go you will see him and he will be a living presence in your life?
That's our faith, and that's Easter. Let's pray that it be true. And you've heard me say this before: Ever since I was in the hospital for all that time and came back, I have found in my life a shift from faith to hope. When people ask me if I believe, I just shrug my shoulders and say, "I don't know, but I sure hope it's true," and it's in that spirit that I celebrate with you today. I sure hope that it's true, and I sure hope that we can go to Galilee and find Jesus as a living presence in our life.

Homily for March 9, 2008 Fifth Sunday of Lent

I read a poem the other day about how to read poetry and stories, and in it the author invited us to walk around inside the story, like it was a room and we were looking for a light switch, or to skim across the surface like we were water skiing and waving at the author. But he said sometimes we try to tie it to a chair and beat a confession out of it. And so I don't want to tie this Gospel to a chair and beat a meaning out of it. But I want to invite you to walk around inside the story and see what meaning is there for you.
I'll throw out a few things without trying to tie them down, and then invite your reflections.
I used to love to use this Gospel at funerals. And then one time I used it and a woman told me, “All the while you were reading that Gospel, I was angry, because I said, 'Well, he raised Lazarus from the dead, but what is he going to do for my grandfather?'” Well, I stopped reading this Gospel at funerals after that. The reason I read it was sentimental; I always wanted to point out that Jesus wept and it was okay for us to weep. That's true, but it's kind of a sentimental reading of the Gospel.
I read a commentary recently -- you're never too old to read new commentaries and get new meanings out of these stories. It pointed out Martha's complaint, and it pointed out that her complaint did not come from a lack of faith, but often, in the Scriptures, complaining and faith go hand in hand. And I thought that was interesting. Sometimes, you know, our image of faith is pretty insipid, and we think faith is going to make us calm, but often faith begins with complaint and with lament.
I was distracted reciting the Gospel today, because we just recently had a death in our parish. David Rangel, very young, 44, died unexpectedly Thursday. And Joan and his children are here, and so I was very distracted thinking of them during the Gospel.
And I read a commentary on the Gospel the other day that said if we only use this Gospel at funerals, then we fail to see its meaning, because it has to mean something for us in our day-to-day life. I thought of our Lenten series, where we're talking about the environment and the forces of death and destruction that are all around us. And this Gospel tells us that death and destruction is not the last word, but life is the last word.
On a very personal level, I can share 26 years ago when I was standing at the altar at the Easter Vigil, thinking of Easter. That's when I decided if this message of resurrection means anything at all, it means I can stop drinking. And so that's when I made a life-changing decision in my life. I think the message of the Gospel should mean life-changing decisions for us.
Another little interesting point of the Gospel: When it says Jesus was troubled, the real word in the Greek is, it says he was angry. Well, what was he angry at? I don't know. He wasn't angry at lack of faith. One interpretation I read was that he was angry that all those people were there, because he knew he was going to raise Lazarus from the dead, but he wanted it to be something he did with the family, and he knew that all of these people there was going to get him in trouble. And by the way, in John's Gospel it did, because his raising Lazarus from the dead is what led the authorities to decide to put him to death. So maybe Jesus knew that this was the end for himself.
Those are just some things I felt on the wall while I was walking around in the dark looking for the light switch. How about you? Anything in the Gospel strike you?
Joan (inaudible)
Thank you.
Maureen (inaudible.) So death can take part in our life in many ways. There can be death of relationships, death of fervor, death due to our selfishness, death due to addictions or other things, and the weeping of people over us can pull us...
Another thing, you notice when Jesus wanted to open the tomb, what did Martha say? It's going to stink, let it be. How many times, when something has died, do we say that? Let it be. And it's only when we have the courage to open it up that the resurrection can come.
Yes?
(inaudible). Okay, a dual nature of Christ. It's God, he knows what's happening, and yet he can weep, and he can deny even his friends, or this is going to go...
Yes? (inaudible) So Thomas's statement, let us go to die with him.
Yes? Jose (inaudible).
So death is evil, and it's Satan's domain. It'll be there, that yes.
Yes? (inaudible).
Good, thank you. So death reminds us that our life is finite, and that can lead us to invest more into our life, to value it all the more, and here we see that.
By the way, there is a beautiful story I read years ago from the Blackfeet Indian tradition about Mud Man and Rib Woman, the first humans, and how God used to walk with them. And one day Rib Woman said to God, "You know God, we take each other for granted. Maybe if we died we wouldn't take each other for granted and we'd love each other more."
And God said, "I don't want to do that. I'll tell you what. I'll let it be for a little while, and then you can come back."
And Rib Woman said, "No, it has to be for keeps, or it won't really make us appreciate each other."
And so God lets their son die, and they cry. And God comes down and he bawls with them, and he says, "I didn't want to do this, but you wanted me to." And anyway, I just remembered that when you were talking, and I thought it was a charming story. It was a wonderful book from the Blackfeet Indian tradition, Mud Man and Rib Woman, and so many of their stories paralleled our biblical stories.
Yes? (inaudible) Okay, so even though Jesus knew what would come, he was able to sit and weep with his friends.
By the way, Lazarus died again. And so this was a not the permanent answer. The permanent answer is the resurrection, and that's different.
(inaudible).
The going home, yeah. Often people in the hospital who are dying will say they're going home, and we misinterpret that as thinking that they think they're going to get out of the hospital and go home, but that's not what they mean. They do mean going home in a much deeper sense.
Finally there's a thing in the Gospel I want to share with you, the last words of Jesus, "Untie him and let him go free." Lazarus comes out of the tomb, but he still is bound by the burial cloths. Somebody has to cut them and set him free. And so maybe an invitation as we pray, as new life emerges within you, where does it need to be said? Untie it and let it go free.

Homily for March 2, 2008 Fourth Sunday of Lent

I want to do a little bit of educational background before talking about this Gospel. The word "sin," when you hear it, what comes to your mind? Bad, evil, missing the mark, doing something against the commandments. Yeah, those are all very good definitions. But in John's Gospel, the word "sin" has a very specific meaning that is different from the other Gospels and from our normal way of thinking.
We think of sin in terms of moral behavior and what we do. John's Gospel thinks of sin in this way: The light came into the darkness, and the darkness tries to overcome the light. And sin is a matter of how you respond to the light. If you accept the light, you have life and are saved. If you do not accept the light, you are in sin.
Or, Jesus, the Word of God from all eternity, came into the world that the love of God might be made visible. If you receive him, you have life. If you reject him, you are in sin.
Or, the works of God are made manifest in Christ. There are signs throughout the Gospel that God is at work in world. If you see those signs, you have life. If you do not see them, you are in sin.
And so, the Pharisees today, they do not see. And this theme, by the way, runs throughout the Gospel: The light came into the world and people rejected it. The life came into the world and people did not believe. And so they were in sin.
By the way, this is really salvation through grace alone, not through anything that you do, but you are saved if you see. And look at the Gospel today as a play. I quote in my letter in the bulletin Wendell Berry and a wonderful essay on the burden of the Gospel.
Wendell Berry says there are Christians who are absolutely certain that they know what God wants. They're absolutely certain that they are doing the works of God. They are absolutely certain that everyone who disagrees with them is hated by God, and they are happy to concur in God's hatred. Know anybody like that? He says, "I am not one of those Christians, and my lack of confidence does not come from a lack of faith, but it comes from taking the burden of the Gospels seriously."
I want to throw out this challenge to you. If you read the Gospel and are not disturbed, you haven't read it. If you read the Gospel and walk away absolutely affirmed in everything that you already think, you haven't read the Gospel. But if you read the Gospel and you are disturbed, and your eyes are opened to things that you haven't seen before, then maybe you are beginning to feel the burden of the Gospel.
Now, in the scene today, you see, the Pharisees are certain. They know that Jesus is not from God. They know that Jesus does not keep the Sabbath. They know that Jesus is a sinner. They know that the man born blind who received his sight was born in sin. And the more they know, the more they end up being judged.
And Jesus says, "There would be no sin in your not seeing, but your sin is that you claim to know, and you really don't know. Your sin is that you claim that what you see is all there is to see, and your blindness remains."
What does the man born blind have to say? He said, "Well, I wouldn't know about that. I know this much: I was blind, and now I see." And you see, his eyes are progressively opened until he sees Jesus as the Son of Man, and he worships him.
From the earliest days of the Church, this Gospel was associated with baptism and with initiation into the church, because that's the journey of faith, isn't it? Those who sat in darkness begin to see. Those who were in darkness come to know Christ, and in that knowing, they have life.
We're going to pray in a minute or two over Allen and Josh, that their journey into the light might be deepened and expanded. But for all of us, I just want to pique your imagination in this way: Observe the story, but let yourself be drawn into it. I believe that God is at work in our world today, that the works of God are there in our world for people to see. Sometimes we see and believe, and sometimes we reject those works. Where is that happening today?
I have my list. I don't really want to share it, though, and the reason is that well, you can, but we are limited in time, and it wouldn't be nice if you talked back and disagreed with me. And I would really want to share my list only in a forum where we could have a real dialogue, and where you could share your list, too, and because I think we all might have a different list. We might not always be on the same page.
But do you know what I mean? Do you have that faith yourself, that God really is still at work in the world? And that God is calling us to see and to believe? And that as we will say in this prayer we will say shortly, God is also calling us to turn from the false values that surround and blind us and to turn toward God's light and to have life? And maybe in the coming week, do some homework and give some thought and write down where you think God might be at work in our world.