Jesus Raises Us Up

“He stinketh,” Martha protests as Jesus suggests they roll away the stone from Lazarus’ tomb.  Her brother Lazarus, dead now for four days, will certainly carry the stench of decay. Thus, in polite language taken from the King James version of the Bible, we hear: “He stinketh.”

Really, this line from today’s Gospel is revelatory of the unfolding narrative…. the whole situation stinks! Mary and Martha must face the fact that their life is utterly changed. The sisters from Bethany mourn what once was and now face an uncertain future without Lazarus.  Prior to the sleep of death, as Lazarus declined in health, he too must’ve struggled with his inevitable fate. Then, death comes. Lazarus lies silent, wrapped in burial cloths in the cold, dark tomb.

It doesn’t take much imagination to apply these elements from the Gospel of John to our own situation today. The outbreak of COVID-19 has utterly changed the normalcy of our lives. Our calendars, once filled with celebrations, are now eerily empty. We wrestle with what the future holds regarding our health, our jobs, and our finances. We watch as the number of confirmed virus cases rise each day, and with that, the number of deaths. The quarantine forced upon us, though very necessary, is much like a tomb experience. We struggle with our own powerlessness and vulnerability in this bleak time.

“And Jesus wept.” This is Jesus’ reaction to the deeply painful experiences that surrounded him and engulf us today. Jesus is saddened that his good friends must share in the sorrow of grief and uncertainty. Jesus groans and cries because of the loss of his dear friend. Jesus sobs at the reality of death and the darkened tomb, a reality he will soon face and a reality that every person must endure. The whole situation stinks. And so, “Jesus wept.”

"The Resurrection of Lazarus" by Henry Ossawa Tanner

Of course, this is not the end of the story. Neither Lazarus’ story, nor our own, ends with Jesus crying at the stench-filled tomb. Rather, Jesus acts. Jesus manifests God’s undying love by raising Lazarus from the tomb. Jesus demonstrates that divine love has no limits; it even pushes to the realm of the dead. Jesus alone is the Resurrection and the Life who transforms our experiences of mourning, sorrow, and death itself.

As we go through these upcoming weeks of uncertainty, we remember that Jesus suffers alongside us. As we endure our own tomb experience due to this current pandemic, we look to Jesus to transform us into a people of Life and Resurrection. With the love of Jesus, we can confidentially endure the darkness of this current moment. We look for the every-day moments when God’s love proves to be stronger than the power of death. Even as we weep and mourn – as we admit that this time really does stink – may we never forget that in Jesus, God’s limitless love will find us. As Lazarus once experienced and as we soon will know, Jesus always raises us up.

Who's Your Hero?

Hopefully, each of us can look to certain individuals as exemplars of virtue. I often seek out the example of these heroes, learning ways in which I can become more faithful, patient, loving, and generous.

One of my heroes includes Oscar Romero of El Salvador. Romero was named archbishop of San Salvador in 1977 during a period of increasing violence, terrorism, and civil war. It was believed that Romero would be a safe choice as archbishop, passively sitting by while those with economic, political, and military power continued to oppress the poor and marginalized populations. However, Romero underwent a conversion of heart, especially after his friend Padre Rutilio Grande, S.J. was killed.

For nearly three years, Oscar Romero spoke truth to power. Romero challenged the oppression caused by unjust government policies and economic practices. He condemned the violence of both sides, advocating instead for the "violence of love" as demonstrated by Jesus. Monseñor Romero sided with the weak and the helpless. Romero was, in turn, assassinated on March 24, 1980 as he celebrated the Eucharist.

I look to Saint Oscar Romero to inspire me, that I might always be open to a change of heart. I hope that I can be as courageous as San Oscar, standing up for the poor, the oppressed, and the marginalized. I seek to be faithful to my own vocational calling and generous with my life. I ask the holy bishop-martyr of San Salvador to renew the fire of justice, peace, and love within me.

There are many such role models and examples in our world today. So, I invite you to comment on this post, answering the following questions: Who's your hero? Why?

Trust in God

Teresa of Avila was a 16th-century Carmelite nun and reformer in Spain. Saint Teresa was witty, sharp, intense, and austere. Yet, she was also deeply in love with Jesus Christ and wrote magnificent treatises on the Christian spiritual life. Due to her incredible faith and contributions to spiritual theology, Teresa of Avila was named one of only thirty-six "Doctors of the Church."

The following prayer, penned by Teresa, was found only after her death in 1582. She had written it down on a scrap of paper to use as a bookmark. May these simple-yet-profound words of trust in God alone sit deep within us this day:

Let nothing disturb you;                      Nada te turbe;
Let nothing frighten you.                    Nada te espante;
All things are passing.                        todo se pasa;
God never changes.                            Dios no se muda.
Patience obtains all things.                 La paciencia todo lo alcanza.
Those who have God,                        Quien a Dios tiene
are never lacking.                               nada le falta.
God alone suffices.                            Solo Dios basta.

A Song of Hope

I've returned to blogging after a long hiatus. I didn't have much time to sit and collect my thoughts for this page, as I have been joyfully busy as a parish priest now for nearly two years. Of course, so much of the day-to-day ministry has come grinding to a near halt due to the Corona Virus pandemic. This time in quarantine has afforded me an opportunity to return to this page and share some thoughts of hope and faith during such an uncertain moment in the life of our world.

Really, the idea of blogging came to me today as I was praying Morning Prayer - which is part of the Liturgy of the Hours, the universal prayers of the Church which includes psalms, canticles, scripture passages, petitions, and reflections from various saints that are prayed daily by clerics, religious, and many lay faithful throughout the world.

Each Morning Prayer includes the Canticle of Zechariah (see Luke 1:68-79). This is the song that the father of John the Baptist belted out upon the birth, circumcision, and naming of his son. Zechariah praises and blesses the Lord for the liberation that God has offered to God's People. Zechariah then looks to his infant son John, and offers a prophecy of his mission as preparing the way for the Christ. Finally, in stunningly beautiful language, Zechariah prays: "In the tender compassion of our God, the dawn from on high shall break upon us, to shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death, and to guide our feet into the way of peace."

This daily prayer can become our own song of hope. Yes, even in the darkest night, we know that Jesus Christ, Light of the world, will usher in another dawn. We believe that Jesus Christ offers us a peace which the world cannot give. In Jesus Christ, we experience the very face of the Father's compassion and mercy. While the pall of death is ever-present, so is the life-saving and self-sacrificial work of doctors and nurses, modeled after Jesus the Divine Physician. Though now is the time of the cross, we believe that resurrection and new life will follow.

So my friends, let us make Zechariah's song our own. Let us not be robbed of hope.