THE UNSPOKEN WORD, May 10, 2020, 5th Sunday of Easter, Mothers’ Day - I Peter 2:4-9; John 14:1-12.
Happy Mothers’ Day. Although’ this homily will not be about the holiday, in the end it is - in its own way - about nurturing.
The Depression Era give birth to two staples of Hollywood movies - the “zany comedy” and the “stage door/boy meets girl romance.” They both feature “spunky gals” and “’can-do’ guys.” The films were at the same time ironic and hypocritical. Their producers made capital out of compassion. The cynicism is best summed up by the remark of the snarky primadonna in “Singin’ in the Rain,” that movies “bring some joy into your humdrum lives.” Even Bing Crosby had a hit record about the ruin of others: “They used to tell me I was building a dream / with peace and glory ahead. // Why should I be standing in line / just waiting for bread? // Once I built a railroad, I made it run / made it race against time. // Once I built a railroad, now it's done. / Brother, can you spare a dime?”
The reality of the Great Depression was nothing to sing about. Only the most senior members of our community can remember the tragedy that began with the stock market crash on Black Tuesday, October 29, 1929. Occurring on the eve of Halloween, it was a real life horror story, one that unfolded, layer after layer, throughout the next decade. The Depression was worldwide. Although it hit America hard, the aftershocks toppled economies all over the world. And while the poverty here at home was traumatic, worldwide it was a disaster ... and one of the leading causes of World War II. Here at home, it took the vision of a Franklin Roosevelt, denounced by many isolationists in America, to drag the nation up from the dregs of financial ruin. Some of his methods were then, and remain today, open to debate.
The current crisis, in the long run, also will require people committed to the Common Good. They may be hard to find. The nation needs public servants - both legislators and administrators - able to place the greatest good for the greatest number above the siren call of short-term gain and partisan politics. We cannot yet begin to tally the cost of the Covid-19 Pandemic. In addition to the staggering number of lost lives, many of them avoidable deaths, the toll taken on the economy, on banking, insurance, public funding, housing, education and charitable donations very well may reach proportions similar to those of the 1929 collapse. The toll taken on people’s lives - their wellbeing on peace of soul - will be incalculable.
In the short run, however, one of the saddest experiences of this disease has been the lonely farewells of those who succumbed to the virus and their loved ones. No one ever wants to die. Most of us, however, imagine ourselves surrounded by loved ones or, at the very least, mourned by them with genuine grief and appropriate ceremony. In our hospitals and nursing homes, thousands have died alone, with no one except perhaps a beleaguered and exhausted nurse to hold their hand and pray for their soul.
And so today’s Gospel is urgent in its insight and compassion. Saint John is not only a source of Revelation but also - and this is part of the scope of Divine Inspiration - a skillful writer and clever storyteller. One of his favorite techniques is irony. He loves to have people “talk past” each other, seeming almost comically to misconstrue each other’s remarks. That device puts the reader in the position of knowing more than the characters in the story ... or, at least, thinking we do!! That’s how Saint John sets us up for the REAL revelation - not the schooling of the clueless characters but the deepening of our own understanding.
Jesus says to His disciples, “You know the way I am going.” And WE know - as did the First Century Christians reading these words around the year 95 A.D. - that He means He’s on His way to Calvary and death by crucifixion. Poor, dull, soon-to-be-doubting, Thomas says, “We DON’T know where you’re going so how can we know the way?!” (“Duh,” we think to ourselves.)
Jesus’ reply is one of the freighted “I AM” sayings imbedded throughout the Gospel of John: “I Am the Way and the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.” We read the three things Jesus says He “IS” as though they were a matched set. Instead, imagine them as being in apposition: Truth and Life elaborate on the meaning of Way.
If Jesus is on His way to die, then the “Way” is Death. For one brief moment in His dialogue, Jesus indentifies Himself with death or, more precisely, with the process of dying. Even on its own, that is a stunning affirmation. Everyone is going to die. It is the natural end of life. Sometimes death takes us unawares; sometimes it slowly and painfully strips us of everything that makes us persons. Yet, having Our Lord imbed Himself into that process is breathtaking!!
But John’s audience - we in the cheap seats - are in for a surprise. For us who believe, death was changed by Original Sin from being the simple unfolding of God’s plan into a nightmare of fear and disillusion. Remember Saint Paul’s Hymn from Philippians, Chapter 2: “... Obediently accepting death, even death on a cross!!” Jesus, by enduring death as we experience it - in all its separation, betrayal and excruciating pain - has done two things. He has made Himself our companion in each of our lonely last moments; and He has made it possible for us to unite our dying with His own.
They say that comatose people still can hear what people around them are saying. If that is true, then - perhaps - through the fog of powerful medications, they also can enter into Christ’s dying and invite Him into theirs. At the very least, for the Baptized, there is a Divine Companion at even the most abandoned bedside.
This is how Jesus becomes, simultaneously, both Truth and Life. He provides not simply a blueprint for dignified human dying but, more importantly, a deeper understanding of the mystery of “death-in-life.” And He empowers us to live meaningfully until the moment of death, promising a joy that comes “after.”
These realities of the spiritual life draw us to the second reading from the First Letter of Saint Peter. Focused on Christians’ moral response to the gift of salvation in Christ, given through Baptism, in this passage the author departs from behavioral issues to reflect on their ultimate purpose. We are a “priestly people.” The building made of “living stones” is a temple wherein sacrifice is offered; and that sacrifice is the gift of ourselves, living according to the teachings of Christ.
The self-offering of our death becomes part of Christ’s Self-offering to the Father on the cross: “Father, into your hands I commend My spirit!” Certainly, in this time of pandemic, that stands out: “Come to Christ, a living stone!” But there is also another aspect to our being a “priestly” people - one that is not as obvious.
To provide some perspective, let’s go back about two hundred years. A young man from Obernberg am Mein, [*see note below] in Bohemia - the present-day Czech Republic - immigrated to America, hoping to become a priest. The newly ordained Johann Neumann was sent to care for German-speaking Catholics from western New York through all of northern Pennsylvania. Back then, all that territory, all of New York and large parts of New Jersey, were part of the Archdiocese of New York. Travelling by horseback from farm to hamlet, Neumann brought the sacraments to the people.
Over so vast a terrain, how often did a Catholic get to see Father John? Yet, the Church in New York not only survived, it prospered! It endured because of the people!
One of the failures in the implementation of the teaching of the Council Fathers from Vatican II is the weak instruction given on the priesthood of the laity. Pre-conditioned by the seating arrangements of entertainment venues to experience our churches as theatrical environments; respectful of, but uncomfortable with the pronunciation of, the Church’s Latin; and cautioned for so many years about the dangers of Protestant worship, with its vibrant congregational singing, we always have had a strong tendency to remain passive at Mass. The Liturgy, on the other hand, is structured so that various functions - not only that of the ordained presider, but also those of appointed ministers and of the congregation speaking and acting in unison - are essential to proper worship.
Now, when our clergy are unable to lead us in worship, the power of the priesthood of the laity should be a sustaining force within our Church and for the community around us. Should be.
Today’s Opening Prayer asks the Father to “accomplish the Paschal Mystery within us” - in other words, to empower us all - priests and people - to enter into Christ’s Death and Resurrection by dying to ourselves. What better way to “die to self” than to live our present reality mindful of the needs of others!
The Collect continues by asking that the Baptized - in other words, you and me together - may “bear much fruit.” In Church-speak, “bear much fruit” always means a two-pronged response: negative obedience to the Ten Commandments and positive accomplishment of “good works.” The Letter says, “They stumble who disobey the word.” That “word” is Jesus’ Truth. Today’s obedience includes wearing masks (“Thou shalt not kill”); observing social distancing (“Honor” those placed in authority over us); not hoarding essential goods (“Thou shalt not steal.”) and refraining from vilifying others (“Thou shalt not bear false witness”).
The Letter also says that being such “living stones” is “of value to you who have faith.” That “value” is Jesus’ Life. Today’s “good works” include everything we do to prevent the spread of the Coronavirus, cooperate in the exercise of social distancing and support our essential workers. We’re “living stones” being built to house “God in the Spirit.” We are a “priestly people.” We can do it!
*Note: Perhaps the origin of Sullivan County’s hamlet of Obernberg over near the Pennsylvania border?