Keynotes for April 2008

April 6, 2008
Third Sunday of Easter

Acts2:14,22-33
1Peter1:17-21
Luke24:13-35

The sweepstakes packages from Publishers Clearing House still keep coming, and I keep filling out the entries and sending them back in, with the same hope against all those odds that one day the Prize Patrol will drop by for a visit. Now and then I also dial the TV to the Antiques Road Show, and I still wonder if maybe my attic likewise harbors some rare copper kettle or ornate picture frame worth a king's ransom. Yet all this while my true treasure has been waiting for me, according to the readings of this third Sunday of Easter, year 2008. Christ's blood redeemed us says Peter in his letter to the neophyte Christians. It was the most precious possession ever paid for a ransom.

Conduct yourself with reverence during the time of your sojourning,
realizing that you were ransomed from your futile conduct,
handed on by your ancestors,
not with perishable things like silver or gold
but with the precious blood of Christ
as of a spotless unblemished lamb.

Peter's message is a way of telling us, not that we have won a prize, but that each and every one of us is the prize. You and I are motherlodes of astounding value, worth so much more than we ever dreamed of. The price that was paid for us far outstrips all of the bonanzas, grails, heirlooms, and auction prizes of all times compounded! Jesus would have gone to this extreme expense for just one of us. So how can he then allow our fate, like John Brown's body, to "lie a-molderin in the grave"? Today we discover what real hope is all about. Today, because we believe in the God who raised Jesus from the dead and gave him glory, as Peter says, we discover within God's treasury the true value of our own beings.

Does Peter harken back to the psalm of King David in a mood of gloom and mourning? Au contraire, mon frerer. Peter is jubilant, because he shares the blind confidence of David that God will raise men from the dead. He was witness to the barter of Jesus' blood that vanquished death and saved us all. Here is Peter, as he recites Psalm 16, proudly broadcasting the providential plan once hidden from the human race. How can any person's death make us sad when we look upon the dying person as the next one in line for resurrection? Peter reiterates the words of David:

Therefore my heart has been glad and my tongue has exulted
my flesh, too, will dwell in hope,
because you will not abandon my soul to the netherworld,
nor will you suffer your holy one to see corruption.

Yes, David's tomb is still on this planet earth, and so is Peter's. Mine and yours are soon to be fixed there as well. Silent gravesites that speak voluminous testimonies! What cause for celebration in all these resurrections! Every tomb becomes a locus of reassurance, every funeral an occasion for joy. Every death should be observed with singing and dancing. When the Saints Go Marchin In, O Happy Day, Beethoven's Ode to Joy and the Alleluia Chorus--they should all be rolled into one thunderous anthem.

Yes, my fellow Christians, we have found the treasure, and it is ourselves. This is how the Lord allows us to come to a full appreciation of our self worth. The recognition paradigm from the Emmaus walk repeats itself again and again in our lives. A stranger shares a piece of salvation history and breaks bread with us, his fellow hikers. We are at first saddened by the loss of some loved one, and regret all our failures toward him/her while they were alive. Then in some unsuspected fashion, astonishing and perplexing, Jesus allows our eyes to be opened to what really happened. His presence is restored in all its glory, and we come finally to appreciate the fullness of what He means to us, for it sinks in at last what we have meant all along to him. The treasures he gleans from the rubble of this world are the souls of you and me!

Sing, my tongue, the Savior's glory,
Of his flesh the myst'ry sing:
Of the blood all price exceeding,
Shed by our immortal King,
Destined for the world's redemption,
From a noble womb to spring.

Acts2:14a,36-41
1Peter2:20b-25
John10:1-10

Jesus teaches us that he himself is the gate to the sheepfold. This must have made a profound impression on Peter and the apostles. After following Jesus for three years and witnessing his crucifixion, they realized that Jesus was serious to the death about a permanent conversion of large masses of people. They may have begun to envision the denizens of the far-flung lands of the then-known world, and the future generations that Jesus had in mind. But how was this wholesale transformation of the populus to be accomplished? This mighty work of the Lord would have to be done with a new kind of leadership and a new organizational framework among the community of believers, one not patterned on any previous type of government or any of the conventional social orders. But at the point where Jesus ascended into heaven, he had scarcely outlined the undertaking itself, let alone lay any plans for it. At the prospect of their having to bring about such an astonishing world revolution in his absence, Peter and the other apostles must have felt the quandary of defeat weighing upon them.

At the core of the concept of "congregation," at the heart of its meaning, is the simple model of a flock of sheep. Jesus, the new leader, styles himself the "gate," gatekeeper, or good shepherd. And the program he offers for the overhaul of human morality has three equally simple components: his teachings, the example of his personal conduct, and the ongoing support given to his appointees.

What he teaches us in today's gospel is that by hearing, listening and recognizing his voice, we shall be able to identify him as our leader. For us "voice" can mean everything he ever said. The canon of his utterances is not so large or inscrutable that it cannot be comprehended by an average intelligence. If a statement is attritubed to Jesus, we can tell quickly if it squares reasonably with all of his other statements. And all who speak in his name must be especially fine tuned to his "voice," so that they speak with the one same voice. Today we begin to learn how that voice makes this spiritual leader and the coalition of his listeners unique.

The second component of the program is Jesus' personal conduct. The example he leaves us, says Peter (in echo of Isaiah), is one of a person who
". . .committed no sin, and no deceit was found in his mouth."
When he was insulted, he returned no insult; when he suffered,
he did not threaten. Instead, he handed himself over to the one
who judges justly.

Jesus is perfect virtue, ever poised between fight and flight, always standing his ground, silently absorbing whatever punishment is meted out. When the apostles began to imitate this model of behavior, the norms for "right" and "good" and "holy" actions started to be skewed off their current charts. The conduct of the new gatekeeper created a very distinctive sheepfold.

Jesus supported his leader/successors primarily with the Holy Spirit sent as his gift to mentor and guide them. Watch them in action throughout the Acts of the Apostles and you will see not only healings, miracles and other displays of supernatural power, but also an intense conviction among them. Here is Peter assailing his fellow Jews with an accusation so sharp that "they were cut to the heart." There is a desire to preach so keen that it amasses a great throng of listeners. In another chapter emerges a thirst for the baptizing of souls so ardent that "about three thousand persons were added that day." With the Spirit in their hearts these men are on fire. Can you imagine any preacher today, maybe even yourself, stirring up audiences in this fashion? Francis Bacon once made the observation: "Of human affairs as in nature, things move violently to their place and calmly in their place." The violent arousal of the new Christian by the Spirit was Jesus keeping his promise that he would be always with them. This Sunday's readings afford us an opportunity to step squarely inside the explosive "big bang" of this phenomenon, and to witness what caused the apostles to be so influential with the many thousands of early converts. A powerful quandry, indeed, pressed upon them from within, and it blasted outward from them. Maybe we should be praying today for the Holy Spirit to instill this kind of explosiveness into ourselves and our fellow believers. Maybe, if we were to trust absolutely in the support of our Gatekeeper, we could inject his new morality into humanity. Or at least we could listen to Peter, who is still saying, "Save yourselves from this corrupt generation."

Acts6:1-7
1Peter2:4-9
John14:1-12

Jesus said to his disciples, "Do not let your hearts be troubled." Not long after his departure, the early church surely began to experience its share of troubles. In certain communities, says Acts, the Greek members complained of their widows being neglected in the daily distribution of food. Also, the congregation to whom Peter wrote his first letter is warned about the rejection of the cornerstone. They felt threatened by persecutions already looming on the horizon; they were confused, discouraged and troubled about what to do. Even while Jesus was still present on earth, his imminent parting from the apostles began to cause anxiety, as Thomas and Philip exhibit in their lack of understanding of where the Father is or how they are to approach Him. Notice that whenever trouble arises, a fundamental freedom of choice has to be exercised. When it comes to trouble, we too are free to accept, or reject or remain neutral, as we take into account its ostensible cost.

The early church quickly adopted a true familial spirit of communal living. The leaders respond to bodily needs as well as spiritual ones. In today's reading they appoint seven more presbyters, who have the special task of looking after the widows and orphans, to see that they have adequate food, clothing, shelter. Despite the inconveniences and vexations, the early congregations nonetheless chose to be openly accepting and all inclusive, rather than exclude or discriminate in any way. In so doing, they were adhering strictly to Peter's admonition:

like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house,
to be a holy priesthood to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable
to God through Jesus Christ.

But why would these followers, when they recalled the consummate rejection suffered by their Lord and Savior, have any desire to become such living stones? Why go out of their way to seek more contempt and abuse? Isn't this like asking for more trouble than they could cope with? They recognized in Jesus, to whom they pledged their undying faith, the very suffering servant of Isaiah's prophecy, the one who was

. . . spurned and avoided by people,
a man of suffering, accustomed to infirmity,
one of those from who people hide their faces,
despised, and held in no esteem.

And yet the more they faced the same fate, the more intensely they swore their absolute allegiance to the Rejected One. Why? Because they believed in him and what he promised, that he would raise them up to an everlisting life. No risk was enormous enough to deter them from this loyalty. For them he became the Way, a most enticing journey regardless of where it would lead. To them he was the only path to the Father. They vaunted Jesus for being "A stone that will make people stumble, and a rock that will make them fall," as they often heard Peter say.

Theirs was a conscious decision to take him for the Truth by which to measure all other truths. They came to recognize and accept him, the very source of all Life, as the one who gave meaning to their lives. At that time, this may have seemed like all-out ambition to take on a world of grief, to grapple without defenses with hardships, afflictions, even terrifying pain. Yet all the early records of Christianity attest to convictions of this depth.

I think the troubles they endured would annihilate us today. Still the fundamental principles have not changed; they apply the same now as then. Could it be possible that today we may in fact be invited to do works even greater than those done by the early Christians? Which Jesus said were greater even than the ones done by himself. Do you and I ever think that our lives might be designed for such purposes? Ever let ourselves consider such calling? Do we dare to believe of ourselves the words: "You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people of his own."? Look around and ask, upon whose shoulders shall the Lord lay his mantle if not upon yours or mine. The choice does indeed confront us: to accept, to reject, to remain neutral. Each has its costs. But is anyone among ourselves counting?

Acts8:5-8,14-17
1Peter3:15-18
John14:15-21

Non relinquam vos orphanos. With his assurance that he would never leave us as orphans, Jesus completes his instruction on how the perfect plan for God's parenting of us has been laid out. Last week from his reply to Philip we learned that we can come to know and love the Father through Jesus, because Jesus is in the Father and the Father is in him. From his cross Jesus gave us Mary, his mother, to be our mother. And now he tells the apostles that in his absence the Father will send another Advocate who will always be with them (and us).

Through the unfailing assistance of the Holy Spirit the mission of our Divine Parent is fully integrated. For the duration of Jesus' life the Holy Spirit was with him endorsing each of his acts with the permanence of eternity, marking his every deed as a changeless, once-and-forever event. When Peter coaches his followers on how to explain their reasons for hope to non-Christians, he alludes to Jesus' dying on the cross as the one time act necessary to absolve us and prepare us for the Spirit's annointing.

Of Jesus Peter says, "Put to death in the flesh, he was brought to life in the Spirit." The self-sacrifice of Jesus was the consummate act of parental self-lessness, the denial of one's own life as an act of supreme goodness which gathers all the evils of the world into one oblation of permanent cancellation. Then by rising from the dead Jesus enabled our true growth and maturation into a resurrected life. For his part in our parenting Jesus our brother brought us to a condition where his surrogate, the Spirit, could exercise the supreme power of raising us up. At his departure Jesus saw to it that we would not begin to feel like abandoned children. To this day he has kept that promise: Non relinquam vos orphanos.

Once the apostles took on their missions of travel and preaching, the need for the Holy Spirit became sorely apparent. Take the incident where Philip goes down to Samaria and stirs up so much excitement that "there was great joy in that city." With events like this happening they began to ask themselves: What about these flashes of enthusiasm? Uncontrolled delirium today and burnt out ashes tomorrow? How is the Lord's plan to take root from them? Are the conversions we witness of any consequence, or will the people dismiss their fervor when the euphoria fades? They asked the same questions we ask: what can we do to strengthen this new faith,
give it stamina, prevent it from wilting? Notice how the apostles in Jerusalem send Peter and John down to Samaria, to lay hands upon those already baptized. Prima facie evidence of the new sacramental gift, Confirmation, taking on a rite of its own. They came to know the Holy Spirit as the One who conferred permanence, who effected conversions as once-and-forever happenings. Without the clinching stroke of this "Parent," evangelism itself would have been condemed to a Sisyphean cycle of revivals and dissipations, of alternating fervor and ennui. But the Spirit's galvanizing force will pump up the faith of the candidati and propel them all the way to their own resurrections, while catching many others in the swirls they created.

On this day you and I who have already been confirmed reflect on this gift. But do we realize how we are continuously uplifted by the Spirit? Are we truly getting ourselves in shape, mentally, psychologically, spiritually, for our own raptures?

Will we be in prime condition on that day which is marked for us? Bear in mind that Jesus said,

On that day you will realize that I am in my Father,
and you are in me and I in you.

With the Holy Spirit as our quotidian mentor, constantly working the Plan toward its culmination, we ourselves will age our way into the roles of parents and grandparents. As we grow in the Spirit, we become the elder sages of our families, churches, communities and societies. In these times we begin to ponder what our own lives are supposed to mean, and what legacies we are to leave to our successors. We begin our period of seniority by turning to the younger generations, and with the Spirit guiding us saying to them: Non relinquam vos orphanos. The perfection of the Plan is going to require the wholehearted cooperation of all of us, no parent left behind..