But Jesus wouldn’t leave them alone. Despite the locked doors, there He stood, glorious in their midst, bringing peace where there had been only fear. Instead of rebuking them for cowardice, he breathes upon them the Spirit of mercy and commissions them to be ambassadors, indeed instruments, of his Divine mercy. They are at last truly “apostles,” for they are “sent out,” like Jesus, the original Apostle, who was sent forth by the Father for the forgiveness of sins. Sinners, called to bring other sinners the Good News of mercy.  Sinners, called to console others with the same consolation that they have received from the sinless One.

They couldn’t believe that Thomas missed this encounter and couldn’t wait to tell him the news. But Thomas stubbornly refused to believe that it was anything more than a mirage.  For everyone knows that death is final. Corpses don’t come back to life and show up for afternoon tea. Never mind His many puzzling predictions about “raising up this temple in three days.” Never mind the fact that all of his brothers save Judas were there and swore they had seen his wounds. Thomas proudly insisted on empirical evidence that he could personally inspect to his own satisfaction.

So eight days later the Master once again defies the barred doors and appears in their midst. This time Thomas is present. Imagine the look on his face as his eyes and Jesus’ eyes meet. Talking about wanting to crawl under the nearest rock! Jesus invites him to satisfy his appetite for proof and probe his wounds. Thomas decides not to explain, not to defend, but simply to surrender. He is asked to believe that His master is risen. But he rises to the occasion to confess even more–that His master is not just Lord, but God.  Thomas’ confession of Jesus’ divinity can be seen as the climax, the punch-line, of the entire Gospel of John, a fitting confirmation of its very first verse: “the Word was with God and the Word was God” (John 1:1).

Faith now has overcome fear. It will soon overcome the world. It would take some time, mind you, for the mightiest empire the world had ever seen to fall to its knees in adoration.  But eventually, brutal emperors dropped their pretensions, abandoned their pride, and confessed the very same faith as the formerly doubting Thomas. In the words of our second reading, “the power that has conquered the world is this faith of ours (I John 5:4).

Faith has this sort of power because it is a supernatural gift. It was the Spirit he breathed on them that Easter afternoon that had empowered the ten to believe and become themselves ambassadors of faith and mercy. Without that same Spirit, Thomas was powerless to believe. But once the breath of the Risen unfroze his hard heart, Thomas too could experience the joy of faith and assume his God-appointed task to be one of the foundation stones of the new temple of God, the Church.

This temple, formed by living stones, made for a compelling testimony indeed. The pagans are reported to have remarked “see how these Christians love one another.” For they were a community of people who appeared to have one heart and one mind (Acts 4:32-35). They even shared their material resources so that none would be in need. This unity flowed from their one faith.

Thomas was once known as the doubter. But he and his fellow doubters came to be called “the believers.” That should give us hope. If we desire it, the Spirit will strengthen the drooping hands and weak knees of our own imperfect faith to make us effective ambassadors to a skeptical world.

Dr. Marcellino D’Ambrosio writes from Texas. For more info on his resources and pilgrimages to Rome and the Holy Land, call 1.800.803.0118 or visit www.crossroadsinitiative.com.

Two names for the same day: Palm Sunday and Passion Sunday.  I propose a third name: Fickle Sunday.  For the same crowd that was cheering during the parade were jeering a few days later.  They’d been wowed by his sermons, fed with loaves and fishes, healed of their diseases, delivered of their demons.  But as soon as the tide began to turn, so did they.  Their cries of  “Hosanna” turned to shouts of a very different kind: “Crucify him!”

Of course, he was not surprised in the least.  The gospels tell us that he knew the human mind heart all too well.  He was not fooled by all the acclaim and fanfare.  Flattery could not swell his head.  He had no illusions of grandeur or ambition for worldly glory.  In fact, our second reading tells us that he had willingly emptied himself of heavenly glory in pursuit of his true passion–His Fathers will and our salvation which.

He “set his face like flint.”  He was on a mission and nothing would deter him.  He barreled through barriers that usually stop us dead in our tracks–fear of ridicule, fear of suffering, abandonment by our closest companions.  He was willing to endure the sting of sin to blot out sin, and was eager to face death in order to overcome it.

He did indeed have a “well-trained tongue.”  His words had mesmerized the crowds, intrigued Herod and even made Pilate stop and think.  But now his lips are strangely silent.  All the gospels point out that he said very little during his passion, collecting only seven brief statements from the cross.  Maybe this was to fulfill the Scripture that said “like a lamb led to the slaughter or a sheep before the shearers, he was silent and opened not his mouth” (Is 53: 7b).  Actually, everything that happened in these fateful hours fulfilled Scripture.  Isaiah 50 had foretold the beating and mockery.  Psalm 22 lays it all out hundreds of years before it happens: his thirst, the piercing of his hands and feet by Gentiles (called “dogs” by the Jews), and the casting of lots for his clothing.  The opening line of this psalm happens to be “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”  Could it be that the Lord uttered this phrase to remind us that this was all in the plan?

So the virtual silence of his well-trained tongue was to fulfill Scripture.  But there was another reason for his silence.  Though Jesus was destined to preach on Good Friday, the message was not to be delivered in words.  The language of this sermon was to be body language.  Good Friday, according to Jewish reckoning, actually began at Sundown on Holy Thursday.  So on the beginning of his final day, Jesus gave us the verbal caption of his last and greatest sermon: “This is my body, given for you; this is my blood, which is poured out for you.”

“I love you” is not so much something you say as something you demonstrate.  Diamonds may be a moving testimony to love, but the laying down of one’s life is even more compelling.  And though this life is human and therefore vulnerable, it is also divine and therefore infinite in value.  A gift so valuable that it outweighs every offense committed from the dawn of time till the end of the world.  An act so powerful that it melts hearts, opens the barred gates of paradise, and makes all things new.

Dr. Marcellino D’Ambrosio writes from Texas.  For his resources or info on his pilgrimages to the Holy Land and Rome, visit www.crossroadsinitiative.com or call 1.800.803.0118.

This was originally published in Our Sunday Visitor as a reflection upon the readings for Passion Sunday, liturgical cycle B (Mk 11:1-10; Is 50:4-7; Ps 22:8-24, Phil 2:6-11; Mk 14:1-15:47).  It is reproduced here with the permission of the author.

But God became man.  If he did not love some more than others, Jesus wouldn’t be fully human.  For human beings have family and friends.  While we can do good and even risk our lives for a stranger, we have special bonds of intimacy and affection with a rather small circle.  Out of twelve, Jesus had one especially beloved.  In the Gospel of this beloved disciple, we learn that Jesus had one family who was particularly beloved.  The family was that of Mary, Martha, and their brother Lazarus.

So it was a surprise to all that Jesus did not come immediately when he heard that Lazarus was ill.  Of course he was a busy man.  But Jesus had dropped everything many time s before to heal strangers. This, on the other hand, was one of his dearest friends.  Not to worry, he explained to his disciples.  This sickness would not end in death.

So imagine their surprise when he tells a few days later that Lazarus was dead and that they were going to visit the grave.  Jesus knew what he was going to do.  Yet when he was met by a distraught Mary and her weeping companions, he did not rebuke them for crying.  He did not say they should wear white and rejoice that their brother had finally gone home to heaven.  No, he wept with them.

Some people accept death as a natural part of human life.  Others think that death to be merely a portal to eternity.  Jesus saw death as an enemy.  His Father had never intended for us to experience it.  In fact, he forbade Adam and Eve only one thing – a fruit that would make them subject to it.  It was through the envy of the devil that death came into the world, not the plan of God.  Death wrenches soul from body.  It rips loved ones from the embrace of their families.  So in the presence of those wounded by death’s sting, Jesus weeps.

Jesus miracles in the gospels always spring from his compassion for the suffering.  But he always has more in mind than helping just the victim lying before him.  His miraculous works in John’s gospel are called signs because they point beyond themselves to something still greater he will do to gain a still greater benefit for all.

This is why Jesus allowed Lazarus to die in the first place.  Because in calling Lazarus forth from the tomb, Jesus was making clear why he had come.  His teaching was of course sublime.  And his cures were life-changing.  But wiser and healthier people still faced the horror of death.  If Jesus were really the savior, he had to save us from the grave.  And the salvation would have to be a permanent one.  Lazarus’ resuscitation was only a stay of execution.  A few years later, the mourners would have to assemble around his bedside once again.

So in the presence of the great crowd who had assembled for the funeral, Jesus called Lazarus out of the tomb.  This demonstration of Jesus’ power over death was a sign of his own coming resurrection — and of Lazarus’s and ours as well.

This is the last recorded miracle or “sign” in John’s gospel.  Jesus knew it would be.  You and I might expect that the news of this miracle, brought back to Jerusalem by numerous eye-witnesses, would lead to the acceptance of Jesus as Lord and Messiah.  But the Lord knew it would have the exact opposite effect.  It demonstrated to his enemies just how great a threat he was.  They had to act fast to stop things from getting out of hand.

But that was all part of his plan.  For Jesus was in total control.  He was determined to lay his life down willingly, to experience the horrible torture of crucifixion, the bitter wrenching of body from soul and friend from friend.  He was willing to do this because by means of it, he knew he would accomplish more for us than he had for Lazarus–a victory over death that would last forever.

Dr. Marcellino D’Ambrosio writes from Texas.  For his resources for spiritual growth or for on his pilgrimages to Rome and the Holy Land, visit www.crossroadsinitiative.com or call 1.800.803.0118.

This article first appeared in Our Sunday Visitor as a reflection on the readings for the 5^th Sunday of Lent, Cycles A and B (Ezekiel 37, 12-14; Psalm 130; Romans 8, 8-11; John 11: 1-45) and is reproduced here by permission of the author

For years, evangelical Protestants have extolled this little bible verse as the heart of the Gospel.  In their minds, if you only have a moment to tell people something about the Christian faith, this is the Scripture to quote: “For God so loved the world that he sent his only Son that whosoever believes in him may not die but may have eternal life.”

Pope Paul VI, in his landmark letter on evangelization, confirmed that this verse, from Sunday’s gospel, is indeed is the central theme of the entire bible.

So then comes the million dollar question–how could a loving God ever send anyone to hell?

The answer is very simple.  He doesn’t.

Oh, hell certainly exists, alright.  We see its crowded waiting room here on earth and can, if we observe closely, get some insight as to why its occupants are sitting there.

War certainly comes close to being hell on earth, especially when you happen to be on the losing side.  Armed conflict is always nasty.  But in the ancient world, despite the low level of technology, war was often total.  When a city resisted a conquering army, it was made an example to neighboring towns.  Jerusalem, for example, was razed to the ground by the Babylonians.  The pride and joy of Israel, Solomon’s temple, was reduced to a heap of rubble, civilians as well as soldiers put to the sword, and a few lucky ones led into exile.

Did God bring this hellish fate upon them?  Not in the least.  He actually sent messengers to tell them how to prevent such tragedy.  Jeremiah warned Jerusalem to repent and offer no resistance to the invaders.  Their response?  They imprisoned him.  Through stubborn and foolish arrogance, they brought their fate crashing down upon their own heads, much to God’s dismay.

Eternal punishment comes in exactly the same way.  None are in hell except those who choose to be.  “The judgment is this–the light came into the world, but men loved the darkness instead of the light (John 3:19).  Why would anyone walk away from the light?  Perhaps because they don’t like what they see as they emerge from the shadows.  Maybe because they don’t want anyone else to see them are they really are.  They’d rather keep up the charade that they are good people and can fend for themselves, thank you very much.  That they’ve always done what’s right and deserve to be appreciated, even applauded, by God and everyone else.

At the moment of death, the choice for light or darkness becomes final and irrevocable.  But before that time, God is waiting for us to turn to him.  He is rich in mercy (Ephesians 2:4).  He shines his light on our sins and brokenness not to humiliate us, but to irradiate the vermin that infects us and to clear up our blotchy complexion.  All we need is the courage to face the truth about ourselves and rejoice in his merciful love which accepts us no matter what we’ve done or who we are.  All we need is to be willing to say “sorry” and “thanks.”  For we can do nothing to earn his favor–it comes to us as a pure, undeserved gift, as Ephesians tells us in Sunday’s second reading.

But God can’t give us his mercy if we don’t ask for it.  And if we insist of “pulling our own weight,” and getting from God what’s coming to us, he’ll do as we request.  Jesus offers us a share in what He deserves from our heavenly Father.  I think I’d opt for that rather than what I deserve!

Lent is a time to remember that we live by the mercy of God, and to renew our determination that the grace that he has so generously lavished upon us will not be received in vain.

Dr. Marcellino D’Ambrosio writes from Texas.  For his Lenten resources or info on his pilgrimages to the Holy Land and Rome, visit www.crossroadsinitiative.com or call 1.800.803.0118.

This was originally published in Our Sunday Visitor as a reflection upon the readings for the 3rd Sunday in Lent, liturgical cycle B (Ex 20:1-17; Ps 19; I Cor 1:22-25; Jn2: 13-25).  It is reproduced here with the permission of the author.

In the ancient world, most nations worshipped their own god and believed themselves to have a special claim on his favor.  The Greeks had Zeus and the Canaanites, Ba’al, for instance.  But this was different.  This mysterious God called himself “I AM who AM” and apparently tolerated no rivals.  He had beaten the Egyptian gods on their own turf and appeared ready to take his new people into Ba’al’s territory.  None of the other gods required any special behavior, just sacrificial worship.  This new one required fidelity to a code of conduct that reached into every department of life, not just the religious.  No area was off limits to the claims of this God–economics, family life, even sexuality.  If Israel wanted this special relationship, they had to accept the stamp of his ownership on every aspect of their existence.  That was the real meaning of the ten commandments, this Sunday’s first reading.

But what began with heartfelt zeal ultimately became ritual routine.  The code of the covenant had called for animal sacrifices and a special place to carry them out.  The devotion of David desired a fitting place for God’s house.  The resourcefulness of his shrewd son Solomon made the dream a reality.  After the Babylonians destroyed it, it was rebuilt in tears, a shadow of its former self.  Then a powerful king came along who saw an opportunity to make the temple once again the pride of God’s people.  He rebuilt it in even greater glory.  But it was more a monument to himself than to God.  After all, he cared little for God, and was not even himself a full-blooded Jew.  He was rather a cold-blooded murderer whose name will forever live in infamy–Herod the Great.

How about the religious leaders of Herod’s day?  Religion had become for them a business.  Animals were needed for sacrifice, so they were sold in the temple precincts.  Hebrew shekels were needed for the payment of the temple tax, so money-changers were conveniently available so people could exchange their Roman money for the appropriate Jewish coinage.

The prophet Malachi (3:1-5) had predicted that the Lord would suddenly come to his temple to deal with such things.  And Zechariah (14:21) had foretold that on the day of the Lord, there would no longer be any merchant in the temple precincts.

So when Jesus overturned the moneychangers’s tables, he was fulfilling Scripture and making clear that the messianic time of fulfilment was at hand.  No more business as usual.  No more ho-hum approach to religion.  It was now time for living faith, not just religious belief.  Zeal for God’s house consumed him, and he had come to light the fire of zeal in us as well.

Lent provides for us an opportunity for a gut-check.  Has our religion become cold routine, a mere collection of intellectual convictions and external rituals as with the scribes and Pharisees?  Is our piety more a monument to ourselves than to God, as in the case of Herod?  Is Christ crucified for us the power and the wisdom of God, or just a plaster figure hanging on the wall?

The story of Jesus and the moneychangers comes at the beginning of the Gospel of John.  From the very outset of his public ministry, Jesus predicted his death and resurrection to his uncomprehending audience.  It would be his self-sacrifice that would ultimately lead to a new beginning.  And to prepare for that event, he cleaned house.

As we prepare for the celebration of the mystery of redemption, it is time for us too to clean house and to honor his self-sacrifice with authentic sacrifices of our own.

Dr. Marcellino D’Ambrosio writes from Texas.  For his Lenten resources or info on his pilgrimages to the Holy Land and Rome, visit www.crossroadsinitiative.com or call 1.800.803.0118.

This was originally published in Our Sunday Visitor as a reflection upon the readings for the 3rd Sunday in Lent, liturgical cycle B (Exodus 20:1-17; Psalm 19; I Cor 1:22-25; John 2: 13-25).  It is reproduced here with the permission of the author.

Here’s the background.  Abraham really only desires one thing–a son who will lead to descendants as numerous as the stars of the sky.   The only problem is that his wife is barren and advanced in years.  So he tries to solve the problem in his own way, and produces a son by a slave girl.  This does not prove to work out very well, and both the slave and her son are sent away.  Next God intervenes, works a miracle, and causes the elderly Sarah to conceive and bear a son.  Isaac, then, is not only the legitimate first-born son of Abraham, but really his last hope.  There is absolutely nothing more precious to Abraham than his son.  Indeed, to give up his son would be to give up himself.

This, by the way, is the true meaning of sacrifice in the ancient world.  God deserves everything because he has given us everything.  So ancient peoples instinctively knew that authentic sacrifice could never be just a “nod to God.”  Rather, it had to be big and precious enough to represent our entire lives.  That’s why human sacrifice was so prevalent in ancient times–the offering of the firstborn was seen as the only adequate worship of the gods responsible for our very existence.  In Genesis 22, God stops Abraham before he slays his son.  The ordeal was just a test to see if Abraham was truly devoted to God in faith, obedience, and gratitude.  God does not want Isaac’s blood . . . only Abraham’s heart.  So he provides a substitute, a ram, which shows the true meaning of all authentic sacrifice–we give to God something precious that represents our very selves.

But the image of Isaac carrying the wood for the sacrifice up the slope of Mt. Moriah should tip us off that this story points beyond itself to a future sacrifice beyond all comprehension.  The ram caught in the thicket is not the true substitute, and the true sacrifice does not take place upon Moriah.  It is the Lamb, not the ram, God’s Son, not Abraham’s, that is offered.  Like Isaac, he carried the wood of the sacrifice up the slope of Mt. Calvary.  But unlike Isaac, he did so freely, knowing what that sacrifice would cost him.  And his sacrifice accomplishes what no animal sacrifice could possibly accomplish–the eternal salvation of all who are willing to accept this free gift of love.

For this is what the whole story is about.  From Genesis to Revelation, the theme is the astonishing love of God.  The love of the Father for his Incarnate Word: “This is my Son, my Beloved” (Mark 9:7).  The love of the Father who sacrifices that beloved Son for us (John 3:16).  The love of the Son who leaves behind the brilliant cloud of Mt. Tabor for the agony of Calvary.

Though it is we who owe everything to God, it is He who sacrifices everything for us.  Our love for Him can only be a faint echo of His unstoppable love for us.  “Is it possible that he who did not spare his own Son but handed him over for the sake of us all will not grant us all things besides?”  (Rom 8:32).

So this is the true meaning of Lenten sacrifice.  We renew and deepen our dedication to Him and express that by sacrificing something meaningful to us.  But as we go about our fasting and almsgiving, let’s not forget to give him some extra time in prayer.  After all, in this Sunday’s gospel, God did not ask us to give up chocolate.  But, after identifying Jesus as his beloved Son, he did give us a very clear command.  He said “listen to Him!”

Dr.Marcellino D’Ambrosio writes from Texas.  For more info on his pilgrimages to Rome and the Holy Land or his resources, visit www.crossroadsinitiative.com or call 1.800.803.0118.

This was originally published in Our Sunday Visitor as a reflection upon the readings for the 2nd Sunday in Lent, liturgical cycle B (Genesis 22:1-18; Psalm 116; Romans 8:31b-34; Mark 9:2-10).  It is reproduced here with the permission of the author.

1          Take 30 minutes to pray, ask the Holy Spirit’s guidance, look over this list, and make a few practical Lenten resolutions.  Be careful.  If you try to do too much, you may not succeed in anything!  If you need to get up early or stay up late to get the 30 minutes of quiet, do it.  Turn off your phone and computer.  Don’t put it off and don’t allow interruptions.

2          Get up earlier than anyone else in your house and spend your first 15 minutes of the day thanking God for the gift of life and offering your day to Him.

3          Get to daily Mass.

4          If you can’t do Mass daily, go to Mass on Fridays in addition to Sunday and thank Him for laying his life down for you.  Maybe you can go another time or two as well.

5          Spend at least 30 minutes in Eucharistic adoration at least one time during the week.

6          Recover the Catholic tradition of making frequent visits to the Blessed Sacrament throughout the week, even if it is only for 5 minutes.

7          Get to confession at least once during Lent after making a good examination of conscience.  If you are not sure why confession is important, get my CD “Who Needs Confession.”

8          In addition to the penance assigned by the priest, fulfill the conditions necessary for a plenary indulgence.  You can learn about plenary indulgences from the official Handbook of Indulgences, Catholic Book Publishing Company (costs only about $13).

9          Make a decision to read at least some Scripture every day.

10        Even if you can’t get to daily Mass, get a daily Catholic Missal or go online or get Catholic One smart phone app to get a list of the readings used each day in Mass, and read these readings daily.  During special seasons such as Lent, the Mass readings are thematically coordinated and make for a fantastic Bible study!

11        Pray the Liturgy of the Hours.  You can buy a one volume edition or a full four volume edition.  Or you can get it day by day for free using the Catholic One smart phone app or online at www.universalis.com. Or you can subscribe to a monthly publication called the Magnificat that provides a few things from the Liturgy of the Hours together with the Mass readings of the day.  The Magnificat is a great way to start learning the Liturgy of the Hours.

12        Get to know the Fathers of the Church and read selections from them along with Scripture.  Short selections from the Fathers writing on Lenten themes can be downloaded for free from the Lenten library of our website, www.crossroadsintiative.com

13        Make the Stations of the Cross each Friday either with a group or by yourself.  If you have kids, bring them.

14        Pray the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary often during Lent, especially on Friday and Wednesday.  The glorious mysteries are especially appropriate on Sundays.  Joyful and Luminous mysteries are great on other days.

15        Purchase the Scriptural Rosary booklet, which supplies you with a scripture verse to recite between each Hail Mary (available at www.crossroadsinitiative.com).  This makes it easier to meditate on the mysteries.  Another resource to deepen your understanding of the Rosary is my CD set “How Mary and the Rosary can Change Your Life.”

16        If you’ve never done a family rosary, begin doing it.  If starting with once a week, try Friday or Sunday.  If it’s tough to start with a full five decades, try starting with just one.  Use the Scriptural Rosary and have a different person read each of the Scriptures between the Hail Mary’s.  This gets everyone more involved.

17        Make it a habit to stop at least five times a day, raise your heart and mind to God, and say a short prayer such as “Jesus, I love you,” or “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner,” or “Lord, I offer it up for you.”

18        Pray each day for the intentions and health of the Holy Father.

19        Pray each day for your bishop and all the bishops of the Catholic Church.

20        Pray for your priests and deacons and for all priests and deacons.

21        Pray for the millions of Christians suffering under persecution in various Muslim and Communist countries around the world such as the Sudan, Pakistan, Indonesia, China, Viet Nam, and North Korea.

22        Pray for Christian unity, that there would be one flock and one shepherd.

23        Pray for the evangelization of all those who have not yet heard and accepted the Good News about Jesus.

24        Pray for your enemies.  In fact, think of the person who has most hurt you or who most annoys you and spend several minutes each day thanking God for that person and asking God to bless him or her.

25        Pray for an end to abortion on demand in the United States.  Pray for pregnant women contemplating abortion.

26        Pray for a just peace in Afghanistan, the Holy Land and elsewhere.  Pray for our troops and for others in harm’s way.

27        Pray for an end to capital punishment.  Pray for those on death row, and for the families of murder victims.

28        Find a form of fasting that is appropriate for you, given your age, state of health, and state of life.  Some fast on bread and water on Wednesdays and Fridays.  Some fast from sweets or alcohol throughout Lent.  Some fast on one or more days per week from breakfast all the way to dinner, spending lunch hour in prayer or at noon Mass.  Some cut out all snacks between meals.  The money saved from not buying various things should be given to an apostolate or ministry serving the physically or spiritually poor.

29        Prayer is like breathing – you have to do it continually.  But sometimes you need to pause and take a very deep breath.  That’s what a retreat is.  Plan a retreat this Lent.  It could be simply a half day, out in nature, or in a Church.  Or it could be a full day.  Or an overnight.  You can certainly read lots of things during your retreat or listen to lots of talks.  But try sticking to Scripture, the liturgy, and quiet as much as you can.  During or at the end of the retreat, write down what the Holy Spirit seems to be saying.

30        Find a written biography of a Saint that particularly appeals to you, and read it during Lent.

31        Instead of secular videos for weekend entertainment, try some videos that will enrich your spiritual life.  Suggestions: Jesus of Nazareth, by Franco Zeffirelli, The Scarlet and the Black, the Assisi Underground (if you can’t find these for rent at the local video store, they are all available from Ignatius Press)

32        While driving, turn off the secular radio for awhile and use commute time to listen to some teaching on Ipod or CD.  Some great resources can be purchased through this site or from other Catholic apostolates and publishers that you can find on our links page.

33        Find a local homeless shelter, soup kitchen, or crisis pregnancy center, and volunteer some time there throughout Lent.  Serve the people there with the understanding that in so doing, you are serving Jesus.  Try to see Jesus in each person there.

34        Visit someone at a nursing home or in the hospital or sick at home.  Again, love Jesus in and through the suffering person.

35        Is there a widow or divorced person living in your neighborhood?  If so, invite that person to your home for dinner, coffee, etc.

36        Get the video of Mel Gibson’s movie The Passion of the Christ during Lent, and watch it if you feel you can handle the violence (there is also a version with many of the most violent scenes cut out).  Get a copy of The Guide to the Passion: 100 Questions on the Passion of the Christ to help you get the most out of the movie.

37        Invite someone over to your house to watch The Passion of the Christ, especially someone whose faith is rather nominal, or who does not practice their faith, or who does not profess Christian faith at all.  Give them a copy of The Guide to the Passion.

38        Spend some focused time with your spouse, strengthening your marriage.  Start praying together, or make praying together a more frequent occurrence.

39        Spend some focused time together with each of your children.  Listen.  Pray.   Maybe even have fun!

40        When Easter comes, don’t drop the new practice you’ve begun during Lent!  Make a permanent feature of a deeper Christian life!

But that is exactly what the story of Noah and the flood is all about, as we are reminded by the scripture readings for the first Sunday in Lent.  The great flood is a testament to God’s hatred of sin and determination to wipe it from the face of the earth.  He of course offers a way to escape the waters of destruction.  He instructs Noah to build an ark which carries to safety eight people and a pair of every animal.  With these, he provides the earth and the human race with a new beginning.  As a sign of God’s covenant of friendship with the newly recreated world, he places a rainbow in the sky.

From the beginning, Christians have seen in this story a hint of a greater work of God that would come later.  The first flood swept away the evil from the surface of the earth, but not from the hearts of the ark’s passengers.  The Red Sea closing in upon Pharaoh and his armies had much the same limitation–it did not cleanse the soul of Israel.

So an even greater act of salvation was needed, one that was more radical, that penetrated to the very “root” of evil.  God himself enters into our world in the form of a man, and engages in hand to hand combat with the father of lies.  First Jesus himself is immersed in the waters, a sign of the destruction of sin, though he himself has no sin.  Next he goes into the wilderness to strike at sin’s agent.

The wrestling match is won by the Son.  This, however, is not the decisive battle.  Mark is a gospel of few words and does not relate what Luke (4;13) tells us: Satan left Jesus to await another opportunity.  That opportunity came later, brokered by Judas, Caiphas, and Pilate.  By means of the cross, the sign of this New Covenant, Jesus decisively vanquished sin and its patron, letting loose from his pierced side a stream that was more powerful than the ancient waters traversed by Noah and Moses.  Through faith and immersion in these mighty waters of baptism, sin can finally be scoured not just from the skin but from the heart, putting to death not men, but the old humanity, separated from God and infected with the disease of disobedience.  The first Letter of Peter (3:20) points out something that we can easily miss–there happened to be 8 persons in the ark.  Jesus rose from the day after the Sabbath, the “Eighth Day.”  God created the old world in six days, rested on the seventh, and performed the new creation on the eighth.  For this reason, in the early Church, baptisms did not usually take place inside the main church sanctuary.  Rather, smaller buildings called baptistries were erected next door to the church.  It is notably that they were generally octagonal- eight-sided.  Why?  Because baptism means burying the old man with Christ and emerging from the womb of the Church as a new creation, sharing in Christ’s resurrection.

Lent is a time intimately linked with baptism.  In the early Church, it was the season that catechumens prepared themselves through prayer and fasting for their paschal journey to the baptistry.  The faithful prayed and fasted with them.  It was also the time that those who had soiled the white garments of their baptism through sin prepared for reconciliation during the sacred Triduum.

If we’re honest, all of us fall to some degree into that second category.  So let us determine– through prayer, fasting, and giving–to intercede for the catechumens and candidates, and at the same time to scour lukewarmness and compromise from our own hearts.  Procrastination and excuses must be put to death.  Now is the acceptable time, now the day of salvation!

It’s not hard to see why. Job poignantly expresses what all human beings experience at one time or another–the feeling that life is a burden, that our daily routine is drudgery, that our suffering is meaningless, that there’s not much hope for our future (Job 7:1-7).

Things are tough all over–in Job’s day, in ours, in Peter’s. It’s all about trying to earn a living and raise a family with taxes, government, disease, and unexpected tragedies yapping at our heels.

The Gospel (Mark 1:29-39) shows us such a world that is suddenly turned upside down by someone who breaks all the rules. Demons that normally inspire terror themselves run away in fear. Fevers flee. Incurable illnesses yield. Instead of talk about the burden of the law with its innumerable regulations, Good News is announced that gives people hope again. The Good News is that God is on the move, that he, not the Emperor or the Prince of Darkness, is King, and he is not slave-master but Father. The someone responsible for all this commotion happens to look like one of them, and indeed is one of them, but does things that only God can do. As He speaks, they begin to feel as is the world may have meaning, that life may actually be worth living. They want to be with him, to hear his electric words and see his astonishing deeds. So they won’t leave him alone. Crowds gather outside the door of the humble place where he is staying.

What happens next is instructive. Knowing his need for communion with his Heavenly Father, he rises early next morning to seek solitude and a few moments in prayer. But they need him. So they send the apostles to track him down. When they find him, he is not annoyed. He does not protest that it is his day off, tell them to come back tomorrow or sometime next week. He has come to bring Good News, to bring light to those in darkness, healing to the suffering. Many are desperate, so his mission is urgent. He gets up, but doesn’t return to Capernaum. Instead, he moves on to other towns. Those who wish to enjoy the excitement of his company must join him in his mission.

St. Paul has the same sense of urgency as his master (I Cor 9:16-19). He is aware of being entrusted with an awesome responsibility. It is not an option for him to share the gospel. What he has received as a gift, the most precious gift imaginable, he must give as a gift. And he must give it not only to those he likes, or those with whom he has some natural bond. He must not do it only when it suits him, when it is convenient. No, he must exert himself. He must seek common ground with all, Jew, Greek, weak, strong, educated, uneducated–so as to express the gospel to them in a way that they can understand. And this mission led him to cover more ground than even his master–not just Judea and Galilee, but what is now Turkey, Greece, and Italy.

Not all are called to be traveling preachers like our Lord and St. Paul. But the Church teaches unequivocally that membership in the one, holy, Catholic and apostolic church is not just about being saved and enjoying God’s company. There is a suffering world out there that desperately needs the saving truth and healing touch of Christ. Notice that immediately upon being healed, Peter’s mother-in-law began working.  Baptism is completed by confirmation, an anointing to serve. You can’t be fully a member of the apostolic church without participating in the apostolic mission.

This was originally published in Our Sunday Visitor as a reflection upon the readings for the 5th Sunday in Ordinary Time, liturgical cycle B (Job 7:1-4, 6-7; Psalm 147, I Cor 9:16-19; Mark 1:29-39). It is reproduced here with the permission of the author.

That’s exactly how the scribes and Pharisees taught in Jesus’ day. “Rabbi Abraham says this. . . Rabbi Gamaliel says that . . .

So when a new young rabbi appears in Capernaum, this is what people expect. They are in for a surprise: he quotes no one else except God’s Word. That’s because there is no one more learned than He. In fact, he happens to be God’s Word made flesh.

But he doesn’t just speak to the humble townspeople this way. When he encounters superhuman forces that strike fear into the hearts of men, he is unruffled. There are no incantations; he does not plead. Rather than Jesus being afraid of them, the demons are afraid of him. Upon seeing them, they shriek. He calmly commands–“shut up and get out.” A moment later all is still. A former victim is now a free man and bystanders marvel. Word easily travels fast–little Capernaum happens to be right on a caravan route from Syria to the region of Galilee and beyond.

But isn’t all this talk of demons just a relic of the mythological world view of pre-scientific people? After all, these primitive folks don’t know about mental illness, chemical imbalance, viruses, and bacteria. Surely they just explained what they could not understand in terms of the supernatural.

That sounds very sophisticated, but it’s dead wrong. First of all, demons are not supernatural at all. Super-natural means above and beyond nature or creation–in other words, uncreated and transcendent. Only God qualifies for this label.

St. Thomas called the realm of angels and demons “preternatural” since it escapes the sensory knowledge that we can have of the rest of creation. We human beings were created by God as enfleshed spirits. But divine revelation tells us that God also created pure spiritual beings with the same freedom we have. Those who have chosen to use that freedom to serve God we call “angels” or messengers. Those who used their freedom to defy God are called demons. Pride and envy lead them to hate not only God, but us who are made in God’s image and likeness.

So people in Jesus day had good cause to fear demons–they are hostile and powerful. Plus, their intelligence is superior to ours–note that the demon in the story, unlike the humans, instantly recognized who Jesus was.

Okay, the ancients may have attributed too much to demonic influence, but moderns tend to make the opposite error. The existence of the angelic and demonic realm is part of the ordinary teaching of the Church’s Magisterium, clearly reaffirmed clearly by Popes Paul VI, John Paul II, and Benedict XVI. In fact when we say in the Creed that we believe in the Creator of heaven and earth, “of all things visible and invisible,” the invisible things refer precisely to this world.

So why is it important to believe that such creatures exist? Because the first rule of warfare is to know your enemy. Paul tells us clearly in Ephesians 6:12 “Our battle is not against human forces but against the principalities and powers . . . the evil spirits.”

Only God has power over this world. Jesus, in commanding the demons, as he later in the Gospel commands the wind and the waves, does only what God can do. Once we are joined to Christ, the enemy has no more authority or power over us–unless, of course, we give it to him through sin. If we cling to the Lord and listen to him, we have nothing to worry about. If not, we have lots to worry about.

This was originally published in Our Sunday Visitor as a reflection upon the readings for the 4th Sunday in Ordinary Time, liturgical cycle B (Deut 18:15-20,10; Psalm 95, I Cor 7:32-35; Mark 1:21-28). It is reproduced here with the permission of the author.