Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord [B]
Isaiah 50:4-7  +  Philippians 2:6-11  +  Mark 14:1—15:47

“My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?”

The depth of Jesus’ suffering is so profound that it gives us sinners pause.  How can we approach the mystery of Jesus’ Passion and Death?  It’s like approaching a tornado, or a snarling Doberman Pinscher, or a Mack truck doing 75 mph down the Interstate:  every instinct inside us tells us to flee.  So it is with the Cross, if we understand what it truly is.

Reflect on the cross first as a human sign.  As a means of torture and death, the cross was perfected by the Roman Empire.  Death was not enough for those sentenced by the Romans to crucifixion.  The cross was devised to prolong the experience of dying.  As if having nails run through one’s limbs—pinning one’s body to pieces of wood—wasn’t enough, the body was nailed to the cross in such a way as to make breathing an agony.

The feet were propped against a footrest which was not meant to give rest.  The footrest was meant to give the crucified person only enough leverage to push his body upwards in order to breath inwards, for as long as his muscles could bear the weight of his body.  The cross was meant by the Romans to be a sign that inspired fear:  fear of Roman power, and fear of what would happen to the person who acted against their rule.

Eventually, the person who was crucified could no longer lift his body up to breath inwards, so that he was unable to exhale the carbon dioxide from his lungs.  So the actual cause of death for most of those who were crucified was asphyxiation.  This is why at the end of the Passion narrative, the evangelist tells us that Jesus “gave up his spirit”.  These words of the evangelist are a play on words.  At the moment of His death, Jesus could no longer force His body to breathe.  But at the same time, He gave the Holy Spirit:  the Spirit of love between the Father and the Son.

It’s in Jesus giving up the Holy Spirit that we see that, as horrifying as the physical agony of the cross is, the spiritual agony of the Cross is far worse.  In our sinfulness, we find our instincts telling us to flee from the Cross.  This is where today’s Responsorial Psalm gives us insight into the mind of God.  This is where God reveals the Cross to be a divine sign.

How can we start to reflect upon the Cross as a divine sign?  Every year, the Responsorial on Palm Sunday comes from Psalm 22.  Only about one-fourth of the psalm is proclaimed.  In the Passion according to St. Mark the Evangelist, we hear Christ crying from the Cross the refrain of this day’s Responsorial:  “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?”

We might ask ourselves why Jesus prayed these words from Psalm 22 while nailed to the Cross.  Did Jesus really feel abandoned by God the Father?  Jesus came into this world to be the Messiah of Israel:  to be Israel’s king.  Jesus came into this world in solidarity with the nation of Israel.  We hear this connection between Jesus and Israel when we listen to the entire 22nd psalm.

The first words of the psalm are words of spiritual agony.  “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?”  Jesus cries these words as the King of Israel:  as Israel’s leader.  Jesus cries these words because this was the experience of the people of Israel.  The nation of Israel had felt abandoned by God.

Of course, from our comfortable armchairs in the 21st century, we know that God had never abandoned Israel.  Time and time again, Israel had abandoned God.  It’s like the old saying, “If you feel that there’s a distance between you and God, guess who moved?”  Nonetheless, as the leader of Israel, Jesus cries the cry of His people, but only to lead His people forward, out of their despair.

Even the sinner King David, in composing this psalm, led his people.  As their king, David led Israel from the self-righteousness of the first verse—accusing God of abandoning His children—to the last verses that look beyond the individual’s suffering, to hope for an entire people.  The psalm concludes by praying:  “I will live for the Lord; my descendants will serve you.  The generation to come will be told [about] the Lord, that they may proclaim to a people yet unborn the deliverance you have brought.”

The Annunciation of the Lord
Isaiah 7:10-14;8:10  +  Hebrews 10:4-10  +  Luke 1:26-38
March 25, 2021

… the virgin shall be with child, and bear a son, and shall name him Emmanuel ….

In the person of Jesus Christ, God and man are united.  This is the good news that Saint Gabriel came to announce to Mary:  that she would bear in her womb the one through whom all human beings could find eternal life.  The profundity of this news overwhelmed Mary, and made her fearful.  What would this mean for her life?

Throughout the world and throughout history, human beings have sought to find meaning in their lives in many ways.  Similarly, human beings have always searched for love in their lives.  We know that there are many different things which people in the world call love, but Jesus Christ and the Church He established upon this earth clearly teach us that there is only one real type of love.  It is that love which over many years would lead Mary to Calvary.  Only this real love is strong enough to destroy death.

If Mary had understood the fullness of her vocation, she would likely have feared the annunciation of Saint Gabriel even more than she did.  Both the Annunciation and its consummation on Calvary are sacred events which call us to consider how God expects us to accept the Holy Spirit in humble submission to the will of God.  Mary is the greatest disciple of Our Lord.  Beyond her questions she says “Fiat”:  “let it be done unto me according to your word”.  She accepts the fullness of the Holy Spirit and bears the Body of Christ.  She is the model for us who strive faithfully to say, “Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.”

Those who have received the gifts of the Holy Spirit in Baptism and have had them strengthened in Confirmation turn to Mary, asking her intercession during their journey towards Calvary, and asking for perseverance to pray beneath the Cross.  As each of us shares in the offering of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, may we be transformed in mind and heart, in order to bear the real love of Christ in the world:  in the midst of those around us who are seeking God more deeply in their lives, or who do not yet know Him.

Wednesday of the Fifth Week of Lent
Daniel 3:14-20,91-92,95  +  John 8:31-42
March 24, 2021

“… you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”

Historically, freedom for the Jews was based upon two figures of their past.  First, descent from Abraham—their father in faith—was considered the foundation of the People of God.  Second in importance was adherence to the Law of Moses, who led God’s People from slavery in Egypt to freedom in the Promised Land.  Yet the Gospel accounts show that many in Jesus’ day who were living in the Holy Land were in fact slaves.

Jesus, we might say, taught that authentic and lasting freedom comes from adherence to the truth.  More significant than this teaching, however, is  that Jesus revealed Himself to be Truth incarnate.  As we draw closer to Holy Week, we might anticipate Pontius Pilate’s feckless query:  “Truth?  What is truth?”  In our own culture, it’s claimed that truth can be manufactured according to one’s own will, if one even wishes to bother with the idea of “truth”.  The human person, in this false view of reality, is free to manipulate truth at will.  Jesus reveals a much more demanding relationship between truth and freedom.

Jesus declares “to those Jews who believed in him, ‘If you remain in my word, you will truly be my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.’”  Each person who seeks to follow Jesus must reckon with this declaration by first believing in Jesus.  Through belief—that is, through faith—the Christian disciple can remain in Jesus’ word.  In all things, Jesus’ word is a call:  a call to self-sacrifice for the love of God and neighbor.  Living out this truth is the only means by which to find authentic and eternal freedom.

Tuesday of the Fifth Week of Lent
Numbers 21:4-9  +  John 8:21-30
March 23, 2021

“When you lift up the Son of Man, then you will realize that I AM ….”

It’s questionable whether, when Jesus told the Pharisees that they would realize Jesus’ identity when they lifted up the Son of Man, they understood that He was foretelling His being lifted up on the Cross.  Yet perhaps the Pharisees had already at this point plotted the death of Jesus in detail.

There’s no question, however, that the Pharisees were unable to understand what Jesus on this occasion was claiming about Himself.  Twice in today’s Gospel Reading Jesus uses the divine name of “I AM”—the divine Name that God revealed to Moses at the burning bush—to identify Himself.  But Jesus does not reveal His divine identity for His own sake.

Jesus took on human nature so that through it, He could redeem fallen man.  We might wonder just how closely today’s First Reading was chosen to point to Jesus’ words in the Gospel passage.  In that light, we ought to recall what Jesus proclaimed just five chapters earlier in John 3:14-15:  “‘just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.’”

Jesus seems, very unflatteringly, to be identifying Himself with a serpent in the desert.  If this seems an odd comparison, recall St. Paul’s words in the Second Reading on Ash Wednesday:  “For our sake He made Him to be sin who did not know sin”

God the Father making His divine Son to be sin, as incredible as it seems, was done for a divine purpose, as the evangelist explains after Jesus connects His future self-sacrifice with Moses’ lifting up the serpent:  “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life” [John 3:16].

Monday of the Fifth Week of Lent
Daniel 13:41-62  +  John 8:1-11
March 22, 2021

“Go, and from now on do not sin any more.”

When Jesus commands the woman caught in adultery not to “sin any more”, He has clearly judged that she is a sinner.  But He has not condemned her.  That distinction between judgment and condemnation is important in our day because some suggest that one should never judge others.

When one human person bears authority over another, she or he has the right to judge the other.  Whether it’s a parent judging her child’s actions, a courtroom judge overseeing a legal case, or a teacher judging the behavior of students, it’s part of the natural order of things for one person to judge another.

The same is true in the supernatural order of things.  For example, the word “bishop” literally means “overseer” (or alternately, “supervisor”), and a necessary part of his oversight is making judgments about those under him.  Another example is the priest in the confessional.  While it’s largely up to the penitent to “self-report” his or her sins, the priest may judge by means of discreet questions the seriousness of confessed sins and whether the penitent is truly contrite.

In the case of today’s Gospel Reading, Jesus twice judges the woman caught in adultery.  On the one hand, He judges that she is a sinner.  But on the other, He judges her to be contrite and ready to reform her life.  To that latter end, He lets her go.  He does the same for us when we also are contrite and ready to move beyond our sins.  Yet He also gives us His grace to help us in the often difficult work of moving out of and beyond our sins.

Saturday of the Fourth Week of Lent
Jeremiah 11:18-20  +  John 7:40-53
March 20, 2021

Then each went to his own house.

This morning’s Gospel Reading is fairly unusual in that Jesus neither appears nor speaks.  The passages focuses upon the reactions of various persons to Jesus, or rather, to what He had just said.  In fact, the first sentence of today’s Gospel Reading begins, “Some in the crowd who heard these words of Jesus said….”  So to make sense of today’s passage, we need to recall yesterday’s.

In yesterday’s Gospel Reading, Jesus only spoke three sentences:  “You know me and also know where I am from.  Yet I did not come on my own, but the one who sent me, whom you do not know, is true.  I know him, because I am from him, and he sent me.”  It’s these statements that give rise to the varied responses from the persons in today’s passage.  They argue with each other about Jesus’ origin, which in turn bears on His identity.

These persons’ confusion about where Jesus is from and who He is explains the final sentence of today’s Gospel Reading:  “Then each went to his own house.”  That might well seem an anodyne statement, but it’s symbolic of a more important truth:  that only Jesus can unite God’s people in the same “house”.  While the literal meaning of the word “house” in this final sentence is certainly an earthly dwelling place, its spiritual meaning is the House of God, which is another way of speaking about the Mystical Body of Christ.  Only by agreeing upon the true identity of Christ can God’s people find their true home in the Church.

The Fifth Sunday of Lent [B]
Jeremiah 31:31-34  +  Hebrews 5:7-9  +  John 12:20-33

“If it dies, it produces much fruit.”

The Resurrection of Jesus is a sign, a foreshadowing, of what will happen to each one of us if we believe in Christ Crucified.  When your life on this earth is over, there will be a particular judgment of your life made by God, and your soul will end up in either Hell or Heaven (the latter, perhaps, via a temporary stay in Purgatory).

However, at the end of time, when Christ comes to the earth a second time, there will be another judgment.  This is a general judgment of all mankind.  This is the judgment that Jesus describes as the separation of the sheep from the goats.

Many people, though, including many Catholics, find a little confusion in this idea of a general judgment at the end of time.  “Why would people be judged again if they’re already in Heaven or Hell?”  An important part of the dogma of the general judgment is the truth that when the general judgment occurs at Christ’s Second Coming, the bodies of those who have died will be raised and re-united with their souls.

On this fifth Sunday of Lent, as we hear again a passage from Saint John’s Gospel account, Jesus presents us with His last teaching before we enter into Holy Week next Sunday.  The heart of Jesus’ teaching is simple:  “Unless the grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat.  But if it dies, it produces much fruit.”  Obviously, this passage refers both to Jesus and to us.

The end of today’s Gospel passage says plainly that these words of Jesus indicated the sort of death He was going to die.  His death was going to be followed by His Resurrection.  We could even say that His Death was the cause of His Resurrection.  But Jesus’ resurrection was not the only fruit of His Death.  If the grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies, it produces much fruit.  The resurrection of every one who has faith in the power of Jesus’ Death is also a fruit of Jesus’ Death.  We hope that the resurrection of our own bodies at the Second Coming will also take place.

But if we imagine ourselves at the end of time, at the Final Judgment, hopefully we would be rejoicing in the judgment of all of God’s saints.  Hopefully each of us would, in a sense, be cheering for every other human person as they were judged.

From a human point of view, we might find the Final Judgment more difficult to undergo than our particular judgment at the moment of death.  That particular judgment, before God, is swift and sure:  after all, God already knows everything there is to know about us, even things we might try to forget.

But at the Final Judgment, when all mankind is judged, hopefully we will realize just how many people’s lives our actions—and failures to act—affect.  If we refuse to die to our selves—if we fail to develop the virtue of humility as the basis of our spiritual lives—then God’s grace will bear little fruit within us.  Just as serious, however, is the honest fact that our actions or inactions may not only bear little fruit in our lives, but may also keep others from bearing fruit in theirs.

Perhaps we would downplay the idea that our human lives are really bound together, that we really have an important effect on the spiritual well-being of others.  In John’s account of Jesus’ teaching that we have heard, it is no coincidence that it is Greeks—that is, foreigners—who approach Jesus, and that it is only through others, in this case through the apostles Philip and Andrew, that these foreigners are able to see Jesus, and hear Him teach the very heart of the Gospel that we are drawing near in Holy Week:  “Unless the grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat.  But if it dies, it produces much fruit.”

St. Joseph, Husband of the Blessed Virgin Mary
II Sam 7:4-5,12-14,16  +  Rom 4:13,16-18,22  +  Mt 1:16,18-21,24 [or Lk 2:41-51]
March 19, 2021

“Forever will I confirm your posterity ….”

In the midst of our ascent to Calvary, we pause to take a deep breath and sing of “the favors of the Lord”.  Like King David, we dare to chant that “through all generations my mouth shall proclaim your faithfulness”.  On this feast of Saint Joseph, the husband of Mary, all of our readings draw our minds to the enduring nature of the covenant between the Lord and His People.

On a day-to-day basis, most of us have difficulty even remembering the small things that we promise to do for others.  Of course, all of the small promises that we make are concrete examples of the promises by which we have consecrated our lives to the Lord:  first in baptism, and then—many of us—by means of more specific vows or promises.

This promise of oneself—this faithful handing over of one’s own earthly life to another—is the greatest covenant we can establish as individuals.  It is by this that we become more than individuals.  As such, we bow in homage before the Lord who wishes to make this covenant with every human person.

It is specifically as the spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary that we honor Saint Joseph today.  Today, in a manner of speaking, is a Marian feast.  It is the spousal nature of Joseph’s life that mirrors in his earthly life the enduring fidelity of the Lord.  From his place in Heaven, St. Joseph is the patron of the universal Church, that instrument through which the Lord wishes to make a covenant with each member of the human race, making each person a member of His divine Son’s Body.  It is the Church that proclaims to the world yet converted the faithfulness of the Lord, and it is to the Church that the Lord promises that He will strengthen us in all our trials.

The life of Saint Joseph is one of silent fidelity to the Lord.  We have in Scripture no words of St. Joseph recorded.  Even the words that are spoken by others to St. Joseph are words that measure by measure call for ever-growing trust in the Lord’s plan.  Step-by-step:  that’s the only way to reach Heaven.  As we continue to step up the path to Calvary, let us pray that Saint Joseph’s spousal trust and fidelity will be our own.

Thursday of the Fourth Week of Lent
Exodus 32:7-14  +  John 5:31-47
March 18, 2021

“… these works that I perform testify on my behalf that the Father has sent me.”

Jesus’ words today seem somewhat harsh, as they often seem in St. John’s Gospel account.  Jesus’ words to the Jews confirm that they are lacking in faith, unwilling to believe in the Good News that Jesus is preaching.  As we, the members of the Church, draw closer to Good Friday, we ought to ask whether we fully believe in the power of the Cross in our lives.  Do we believe that in suffering we can find redemption?  Do we believe that there is a meaning to all the suffering that we are constantly experience (often, of our own making)?

Jesus asserts that there is meaning in suffering, and that His Cross most perfectly reveals that meaning.  But to those with weak faith, Jesus’ words don’t suffice, so He offers four witnesses who testify to the Truth of who Jesus is.  John the Baptist, the miracles of Jesus, the Scripture, and God the Father each testify to what Jesus is saying, just as they will each testify to the sacrifice that Jesus will offer on Good Friday.  Saint John the Baptist, Jesus’ miracles, and the Scriptures all foretold the mystery that Jesus would in time reveal on the Cross, but it is God the Father Himself who will give ultimate meaning to the Cross.  The Father grants this meaning in raising Jesus from His suffering and death.

In saying all this in today’s Gospel passage, Jesus is preparing us to receive the Eucharist:  that is, to share in the Sacrifice of the Cross sacramentally.  He knew that many people would reject His teaching on the Eucharist, and that in doing so they would be rejecting Jesus Himself.  In the Cross we find our redemption, and in the Holy Eucharist we have the opportunity to willingly and lovingly participate in Christ’s self-offering to the Father.  We must have the confidence that the Father loves us—his adopted sons and daughters—as He does His only-begotten Son.  In our own lives, we must have confidence that our sacrifice will be acceptable to God the Father.