NOT SEEING YET BELIEVING

 A SERMON FOR LOW SUNDAY

One of the big differences between Christianity and Islam is that the Muslims do not believe that Christ is God.  It is inconceivable to them that God would be able to die at all, let alone that he would allow himself to be subjected to the ignominious tortures of the crucifixion.  They might actually have a point, if it were not for one important thing—the Resurrection.  Let’s face it, the sufferings of our Lord and his death on the cross would not in themselves be sufficient for us to believe that he was the Son of God, the Messiah. After all, everyone dies sooner or later, and sometimes in the most horrific of circumstances.  What makes the death of our Lord so different is that his death was not the end of the story.  On the third day he rose again from the dead.

Our faith in Christ derives from the Resurrection.  It was this one indisputable event that proves without the shadow of a doubt that this man was indeed the Son of God.  There have been people who have had near-death experiences, or others who have sat up in their coffins when everyone was getting ready to bury them.  There have even been multiple cases where a saint has raised a corpse from the dead—think of Lazarus whose body was already decomposing when our Lord commanded him out of the tomb.  But never has anyone actually raised himself from the dead.  Never, except on that first Easter Sunday when the stone was rolled away and the glorious body of our Lord walked out and appeared to his disciples.

This then, is the underlying and very basic lesson of the Easter Resurrection—that of Faith.  On Good Friday the Apostles had pretty much lost their faith.  Our Lord has prophesied to them several times that he would be scourged and crucified and then would rise again from the dead on the third day.  They had never fully understood what he meant by this.  Probably they took it as some kind of parable, not as something he meant literally.  When he actually was scourged and crucified, they ran away and hid themselves.  Only St. John had the courage to stand beneath the cross and comfort the Blessed Mother, the others were nowhere to be found.  But even though he had courage, he still thought that this was truly the end of our Lord.  It took the Resurrection for his faith to be restored.

When Mary Magdalene brought word to the Apostles on Easter morning that our Lord was no longer where they had buried him, Peter and John rushed to the holy sepulcher.   They saw the empty tomb and their faith was restored.  Listen to the words of St. John himself as he recounts how he and St. Peter rediscovered their faith.  “Then went in also that other disciple, which came first to the sepulchre (St. John is speaking about himself here), and he saw, and believed.  For as yet they knew not the scripture, that he must rise again from the dead.”  Although our Lord’s terrible death did not inspire them with faith, the Resurrection did.

Today’s Gospel reinforces our own faith in the Resurrection by recounting the story of the one apostle who would not believe.  St. Thomas had been absent during Easter week when our Lord had appeared to the others.  He returned to the company of the apostles to hear a most remarkable claim that Christ was risen from the dead.  He refused to believe them. 

This infamous doubt of St. Thomas was foretold by our Lord in the parable of Dives and Lazarus.  If you remember this story, Dives was a rich man and Lazarus was the poor destitute who begged in vain for crumbs of food at his table.  They eventually both died.  Dives went to hell for his crimes.  Lazarus went to the bosom of Abraham.   In Hades, where he was in torment, Dives looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side. So he called to him, ‘Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.’ But Abraham replied, ‘Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony. And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been set in place, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us.’ He answered, ‘Then I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my family, for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.’ Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.’ ‘No, father Abraham,’ he said, ‘but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’ “He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.”

St. Thomas represents the first of many millions who would not be convinced by listening to the words of the Apostles that Christ had risen from the dead.  Despite the prophecies of Moses and prophets of the Old Testament and their fulfillment in the life and death of our Lord; despite our Lord’s prophecies about his own resurrection; despite the trust he should have had in his fellow Apostles, Thomas nevertheless doubted.  He refused to believe until such time as could place his fingers in our Lord’s wounds.  Not until then did he finally believe and utter those now famous words, “My Lord and my God!”  If we’re not convinced by all the other Old Testament prophecies of the Messiah, by the miracles and prophecies of Christ, all fulfilled in the Resurrection, the proof offered to St. Thomas should now dispel any remaining doubts we too may have. 

Alas, so many in this world still doubt.  Their faith is weak if they have any faith at all.  And so they eagerly cling to what they perceive as “signs”—evidence, if not tangible proof, that Christ is God or that God exists at all.  We look for miracles, sometimes we even demand miracles.  But as our Lord told the people, “A wicked and adulterous generation seeketh after a sign; and there shall no sign be given unto it, but the sign of the prophet Jonah.”  And what was the sign of the prophet Jonah?  That he was buried within the body of a whale for three days, and then released alive and whole, a sure and certain foretelling of the Resurrection.  Why look for other signs and miracles when we have the Resurrection before us as proof of our Lord’s divinity?

Our faith will be tested this morning.  At the moment of consecration at this Mass, the bread and wine will be changed miraculously into the Body and Blood of Christ.  We shall not see the change take place.  We shall not hear the angels as they sing the praises of their God, present now upon our altar.  And yet, we will pass this test of our faith by kneeling before this God, and whispering to him the words of adoration first spoken by the Apostle St. Thomas as his faith was restored, “My Lord and my God.”  We will remember his refusal to believe and his earlier words that he wouldn’t believe it till he saw it for himself.  And we will remember our Lord’s gentle admonition to him, and ultimately to us, that “Blessed are they have not seen, yet have believed.”

THE STRIFE IS O'ER

 A HYMN FOR LOW SUNDAY

By Francis Pott, 1861

 

Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!

 

1 The strife is o'er, the battle done;

the victory of life is won;

the song of triumph has begun.  Alleluia!

2 The powers of death have done their worst,

but Christ their legions has dispersed.

Let shouts of holy joy outburst.  Alleluia!

 

3 The three sad days are quickly sped;

he rises glorious from the dead.

All glory to our risen Head.  Alleluia!

 

4 He closed the yawning gates of hell;

the bars from heaven's high portals fell.

Let hymns of praise his triumph tell.  Alleluia!

 

5 Lord, by the stripes which wounded thee,

from death's dread sting thy servants free,

that we may live and sing to thee.  Alleluia!

 

Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!

SHOW ME!

 A REFLECTION FOR LOW SUNDAY

The nickname of the State of Missouri is the “Show Me State.”  The people of Missouri have somehow earned the reputation for not being gullible, not putting too much faith in what they hear.  On the face of it, that seems like a prudent approach to life, especially in these days when there’s so much fake news, when the Internet contains the slanted perceptions and twisted truths of everyone who knows how to type.  It’s true, we shouldn’t believe everything we read.  It must first be tested and proved, particularly when we don’t know whether we can trust the source.

It's a different story, though, when we do know and trust the person who gives us a first-hand account.  Our testing of what he tells us needs not to be quite so rigorous.  We trust he would not lie to us.  And yet, maybe he’s mistaken?  We might trust him, but we still need to verify.

 St. Thomas the Apostle didn’t come from Missouri, but he was still a “show-me” kind of man.  He was prudent enough not to trust everything people told him.  And when the Apostles came to him with the astonishing story that our Lord had risen from the dead, well, that was just a bit too much for him to swallow, and so he demanded proof.  Maybe he thought they were lying to him.  More likely though, he just assumed they were mistaken and that whoever they had seen was simply someone else.  A case of mistaken identity.  We’re tempted to excuse the reluctance of St. Thomas to believe what, after all, was a pretty incredible story.

The problem with St. Thomas, though, was that he didn’t have faith.  Not in the other apostles, who most certainly could have been mistaken or lying.  But it was his faith in God that failed him.  He chose to ignore what St. Mary Magdalene had told him just a week before, how two angels had appeared to her, saying “He is not here, but is risen: remember how he spake unto you when he was yet in Galilee, saying, The Son of man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, and be crucified, and the third day rise again.”  As they listened to the words of Mary Magdalene, the apostles “remembered his words” and were already predisposed to believing in the Resurrection when our Lord appeared to them.  St. Thomas, however, wasn’t there, and his doubts persisted.  His faith in the apostles was certainly not enough and he was easily able to dispel their claims as a simple mistake.  But his faith in those words of the Son of God?  The God who can neither deceive nor be deceived, who cannot lie nor make mistakes?

Then finally he saw Christ.  He started to doubt his doubts, but still had a hard time believing.  Show me!  First the hands – what did they look like?  Were they blood-stained, with nail wounds oozing congealed blood?  No.  This was now our Lord’s glorified body.  His hands just had holes that you could see through, put your fingers through.  Thomas began to believe as he looked down next to the feet through whose holes he could see the earth below.  Finally, he came to the hole in Christ’s side.  He hesitated to persist in his wish to place his finger into that hole.  But our Lord made him.  What did he feel?  He put his hand on the Sacred Heart, beating within this mortal wound, a living person with a fatal wound that is not survivable.

A feeling of horror that he had doubted now dawns on St. Thomas like a bolt of lightning—I’ve doubted God, I’ve forced him to prove his words to me.  I’ve refused to believe this man who for me was subjected to these holy wounds.  A sickening thud in his stomach as he realizes what he’s done.  He falls to his knees and adores what he now knows to be God.  “My Lord and my God!”  It was a life-changing experience.  From that moment on St. Thomas saw everything, everything, in his life, through a different prism of what is real and true, and what isn’t.  He preached as far as India.  Finally, he died a martyr, willingly following in the sufferings of the Lord and God he would now adore for all eternity.

WHO SHALL ROLL AWAY THE STONE?

 A SERMON FOR EASTER SUNDAY

Very early on Sunday morning, three women went to the Holy Sepulcher where our Lord had been lain on Friday afternoon.  They hadn’t had the time to anoint his body on that awful day.  Our Lord had died at three in the afternoon, and the few hours that followed before sunset and the start of the sabbath were filled with the sad task of taking his body down from the cross and wrapping it quickly in his burial shroud.  Nor had they been able to perform the ritual anointing on the intervening Saturday, as that was the feast of Passover and the strict Mosaic laws were still being enforced.  And so, very early on Sunday, these three women, Mary Magalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome, showed up at the Holy Sepulcher, all ready and eager to anoint the body of our Lord at last.

Perhaps it was their enthusiasm to finally accomplish this final service to their Lord that made them forget one very important problem that would prevent them from doing it.  A “very great stone” had been placed at the entrance to the tomb, far too heavy for these three women to roll away themselves.  As they approached the sepulchre, it finally occurred to them that they wouldn’t be able to do what they came for, and they asked each other “Who shall roll us away the stone from the door of the sepulcher?”

However, when they arrived, they saw that the stone had already been rolled away.  They had come to perform a holy task, believing it to be the right thing to do, God’s holy will.  And somehow, the one obstacle in their path had been removed, by means unknown.  Knowing the rest of this story and what comes next, we are well aware that the removal of the great stone was an act of God, an essential part of the story of the Resurrection. 

We take it for granted that they were engaged in doing God’s holy will, and that therefore he made it possible for them to complete their task by rolling away the stone.  There’s something fundamentally wrong with this assumption.  It was not God’s will that they should anoint the lifeless corpse of his Son.  Christ was risen!  Yes, he rolled away the stone, but it was for an entirely different purpose.  It was so that they could enter the tomb to hear the message of the angel “He is risen, he is not here: behold the place where they laid him.”  Instead of performing a sad ritual that Easter morning, they were instead privileged to be the first to hear the good news of the Resurrection.

How many times has this happened in our own lives.  We try so hard  to do the right thing, and instead of accomplishing the good things we set out to do, we encounter instead all manner of obstacles that  prevent us from doing what we assume to be God’s holy will.  We want to do good, to pursue our intentions of following God’s will.  And yet, almost inevitably, a great stone stands in our way and we are not able.

Instead of wallowing in self-pity because things don’t go our way, things we believe are of God and for God, we should pause and reflect on today’s Gospel and realize there may be a very good reason why God does not roll away the stone that gets in our way.  We should never presume, as the three holy women may have done, that God will intervene, or maybe send someone along to make everything go smoothly.  God alone knows when his intervention is truly for the best, and will help us out when he sees fit.  And we should never presume that just because we are doing a good thing, it is God’s will that we do it.  He may have a completely different path that he wants us to tread, and for a far more important reason.

Three women went to the tomb that Sunday morning.  Are we perhaps a little surprised that the Blessed Mother was not one of them?  The reason now perhaps becomes a little clearer—for starters, she alone had the faith to know he would not be there.  She was acquainted far better than anyone else with the true will of God, and so she knew God’s will was not that she could go to an empty tomb to anoint a body that wasn’t there.  Perhaps she had already witnessed the first apparition of her Son early that Sunday morning?  The Scriptures do not mention this event, but it seems most likely, and is the general consensus among the Fathers of the Church, that this would have happened.  Our Blessed Lady is always the one whose example we should follow, and so whenever we place our trust in God, we shouldn’t scurry around presuming to know his will.  We should rather be at peace, understanding that God will somehow make his will known to us if we take the time to listen.  God may or he may not move away any stones that obstruct our path, but if we follow our Lady in trusting divine Providence, we can be sure that he will bring us to the desired goal he wants us to attain.  God can and will move any stones out of our way if he wants to, but even if he does, it may not be so that we can accomplish what we set out to do, but rather so that we can find what God really wants us to do.  Let’s pray this Easter that we may find our way, the way of God, so the heavy stones in our path may be removed.

HAIL THEE FESTIVAL DAY!

 A HYMN FOR EASTER SUNDAY

By Venantius Fortunatus, 6^th century

 

[Refrain:]

Hail, thee festival day!

Blest day that art hallowed for ever,

day wherein Christ arose,

breaking the kingdom of death.

 

1 Lo, the fair beauty of earth,

from the death of the winter arising,

every good gift of the year

now with its Saviour returns. [Refrain]

 

2 He who was nailed to the cross

is God and the ruler of all things;

all things created on earth

worship the maker of all. [Refrain]

 

3 Mourning they laid thee to rest,

the author of life and creation;

treading the pathway of death,

life now bestowing on all. [Refrain]

 

4 God of all pity and power,

let thy word be assured to the doubting:

light on the third day returns;

rise, Son of God, from the tomb! [Refrain]

PURGING OUT THE OLD LEAVEN

 A MESSAGE FOR EASTER SUNDAY

Today’s very short Epistle may seem at first glance to be an obscure reference to the ancient Jewish practice of keeping Kosher for Passover.  St. Paul admonishes us to “purge out the old leaven that ye may be a new lump.”  How odd, we think, to be told on Easter Sunday that we should be a new lump…  A lump of what?  The Latin word used in the Mass more specifically means “dough”, continuing the baking analogy that St. Paul is employing.  Because Christ our Passover is now sacrificed for us, everything has changed.  St. Paul tells us that we must “keep the feast (of Passover/Easter) not with the old leaven, but with the new unleavened dough” that befits the Christians of the New Testament.

Christ was indeed sacrificed for us.  We call the day it happened “Good Friday”, which by no coincidence happened to be the eve of Passover.  We are all familiar with Passover, that old Jewish feastday commemorating the deliverance of the Hebrews from the Angel of Death.  In the time of Moses, the Jews sacrificed the Paschal Lamb and sprinkled its blood on their doorposts to ensure their safety.  Now it was an even greater Passover Lamb, the “Lamb of God that taketh away the sins of the world” who would be their deliverer.  Christ’s sacrifice on the Cross was the fulfillment of the Jewish Passover, made evident by the rending asunder of the veil of the Jewish Temple at the hour of his death.  His Precious Blood was now the Blood of the New and Everlasting Covenant, replacing the old covenant made with Abraham promising the coming of a Messiah.  The Messiah had come, and a new Covenant was made between God and his people.

The day after Passover has a special name in Jewish tradition.  It was called the Feast of Unleavened Bread and lasted for seven days.  In commemoration of their deliverance from their slavery in the land of Egypt the Hebrews purged all the leavened bread from their midst and ate only unleavened bread for a week.  As the feast of Passover was celebrated starting at sundown on Good Friday, it followed that the Feast of Unleavened Bread began at sundown on Holy Saturday, lasting until sundown on Easter Sunday and then continuing for the Octave that followed.  This is the reason the Church has chosen this section of St. Paul’s Epistle to the Corinthians for Easter Sunday and why it is so appropriate.

The Sacrifice of our blessed Lord is the central event of our Redemption, and thus of world history.  It divides time between the Old Testament and the New Testament, a time at which everything definitively changed.  What is the leaven we are purging from our midst at Easter, but what St. Paul describes as the “leaven of malice and wickedness?” And with what are we to replace the leavened bread that we used to be?  With the “unleavened bread of sincerity and truth.” 

Easter then, is a time for change.  The keeping of the feast of Easter is not an invitation to return to a life of gluttony and sloth after our Lenten penances.  Rather it is the opportunity for us to put into practice the lessons our fasting and prayers taught us and herald in a new lifestyle focused on the sincere commitment to a new life focused on pleasing God.

KEEP THE HOSANNAS RINGING

 A SERMON FOR PALM SUNDAY

The worst way to spend Holy Week is to avoid, completely avoid, thinking about the terrible sufferings our Lord went through from his Agony in the Garden to the Crucifixion.  So many people don’t give them a second thought, and for them, this Holy Week is no different than any other week of the year.  Maybe a few of them set aside a tiny amount of time to scatter Easter eggs round their garden and prepare the bunny trail for their children.  But most don’t even do that.

As Catholics, we are expected to do more.  This is the holiest week of the year.  We should redouble our penances, make the Stations of the Cross, increase our prayer time, observe the Three Hours of Silence from noon until 3pm on Good Friday, attend church services where they’re being held, and generally devote our week to our blessed Lord and his sorrowful Mother.  It is a good and meritorious act to meditate on the sufferings of our Lord.  Even more graces are received when we are stirred to a greater and love of our Saviour, if we are moved to tears of compassion and contrition.  And yet, there can still be something missing.

In the Gospel reading made during the ceremony of the Blessing of Palms, we read how our Lord entered into the Holy City of Jerusalem, how the crowds “spread their garments in the way”, cutting down branches from the palm trees and strewing them on the roadway on which our Lord rode in.  They surrounded him, crying out “Hosanna to the Son of David!  Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord!”  Just a few days later their words would have changed dramatically, and would echo out over the same streets of Jerusalem, “Crucify him, crucify him”.

This is the danger we face today.  That we are filled with inspiration on Palm Sunday and shout our hosannas, resolving to make the best Holy Week ever.  And yet, before we even reach Good Friday, we fall yet again into sin.  Perhaps even mortal sin.  We forget how our reading of the Passion today inspired us with the love of a Saviour who would suffer so much for us.  And we turn our backs on that same blessed Redeemer we think we love so much, and blithely start offending him all over again.  We make the tragic error of thinking we can love God and offend him at the same time.  And we forget that it is these very offences that caused those sufferings in the first place.

Life is not a game.  We can’t outwit God as if we’re playing chess with him.  We can’t confess the same sins over and over again and then walk out of the confessional as though nothing had happened, never giving another thought to our pathetic resolution to sin no more.  It’s as though we’re trying to cheat our way into heaven.  God is not mocked.  He can take any one of us without warning, and the more we play that dangerous game of sinning, confessing, sinning, the greater the risk he will punish us—eternally—for our shameful lack of fortitude.  Take a lesson from the citizens of Jerusalem and don’t follow their bad example.  They, who on Sunday hailed him as their Messiah, were there in the courtyard of Pontius Pilate on Good Friday, crying out for him to be crucified, gloating over his torments.  Don’t follow their mistake of  thinking such betrayal goes unnoticed by the Most High.  Learn by their punishment—just a few years later the Romans destroyed the city of Jerusalem and demolished the Temple, leaving not a stone upon a stone.  God is not mocked.

Our example should be that of the Saviour himself, who gave no heed to the shouts of hosanna, but resolutely rode into his Holy City of Jerusalem, knowing full well what the consequences would be, and what those hosannas would turn out to be worth.  We must follow him, not the crowd.  Follow God, not the idle whims of a wicked world.  Use this Holy Week as though it were your last opportunity to make your final peace with God.  Because maybe it will be.

WHEN I SURVEY THE WONDROUS CROSS

 A HYMN FOR HOLY WEEK

By Isaac Watts, 1707
 

 1 When I survey the wondrous cross

on which the Prince of glory died,

my richest gain I count but loss,

and pour contempt on all my pride.

 

2 Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,

save in the death of Christ, my God!

All the vain things that charm me most,

I sacrifice them through his Blood.

 

3 See, from his head, his hands, his feet,

sorrow and love flow mingled down.

Did e'er such love and sorrow meet,

or thorns compose so rich a crown?

 

4 Were the whole realm of nature mine,

that were a present far too small.

Love so amazing, so divine,

demands my soul, my life, my all.

ACTS OF DENIAL

 A MESSAGE FOR PALM SUNDAY

One of the most noteworthy aspects of the first Holy Week is the behavior of the Twelve Apostles.  None of them acted perfectly, and some of them actually behaved quite wickedly.  We have the example of our Lord’s three favorites, Peter, James and John whom he took into Gethsamane to comfort him in his Agony in that garden.  Instead of loyally praying and being there in their Saviour’s hour of need, they lay down and fell asleep.  What kind of comfort was that?  And when the soldiers came to arrest Jesus, their reaction was far from what our Lord wanted.  Peter cut off the ear of the High Priests’ servant, resorting to violence to protect the Messiah.  Good intentions perhaps, but again, far from the will of God.  Meanwhile, John ran away, leaving his beloved Master to his fate.

Later that night, St. Peter had the courage to go to the Praetorium where the soldiers had taken Jesus and where they were already abusing him with their mockery and violence.  Peter’s courage failed him, however, when he was questioned by passers-by who thought they recognized him as one of our Lord’s companions.  Three times he denied our Lord, three times in succession he committed the mortal sin of betraying the Son of God.  And this was the man our Lord would choose to be the first Pope of his Church!

Meanwhile, the other apostles didn’t even have Peter’s courage to follow our Lord to his prison.  They were devastated and remained hidden in the room where our Lord had celebrated his Last Supper and had ordained them as priests.  Here they wallowed in fear and depression while countless and unspeakable acts of torture and humiliation were committed against their Lord and Saviour.  And again, these were to be the first bishops of the Church!

Peter was redeemed by his repentance and heartfelt sorrow for having offended the Lord he loved so well.  John was redeemed by his later courage as he followed our Lord to the cross of Calvary, standing beneath his crucified Saviour, comforting Jesus’ mother in reparation for his earlier failure in Gethsemane to comfort Jesus himself.  The other apostles were slower in their return to grace, and would not regain their faith until the appearances of our Lord after his Resurrection.  The faith of St. Thomas—doubting Thomas—would take even more proof.

Whatever the faults of the Twelve Apostles, they would nearly all end up as saints.  The descent of the Holy Ghost at Pentecost provided them with the gifts they needed to become saints.  When faced with martyrdom they gladly accepted their sufferings and followed their Master to glory.  With one exception of course.  One of those apostles failed our Lord completely, betraying him to the Sanhedrin for thirty pieces of silver.  Judas Iscariot was a traitor, but even he could have repented and rejoined the other apostles in humility.  He chose instead to yield to his despair and killed himself.  Without repentance, there is, without question, no salvation.

Which of the apostles are we going to follow?  Think about it, and then choose carefully.

FOLLOWING IN HIS FOOTSTEPS

 A SERMON FOR PASSION SUNDAY

The world is spiraling out of control.  This is no longer a conspiracy theory, but a fact.  It’s a fact we can see for ourselves as we witness the daily disintegration of all our institutions, including the very Church herself.  Not only do we see everything falling part, but we are becoming ever more conscious of the fact that if we don’t join in this frenzy of destruction, we ourselves will be the next target.  If we aren’t “woke”, then prepared to be judged by the world as someone worthy only to be cancelled, to be eliminated from what they now recognize as “civilized” society.  For now, it just means getting kicked off Twitter for putting America first, or losing your job for not taking the vaccine.  How long though before our bank accounts are frozen, we’re not allowed to buy food, are forced to wear yellow armbands to identify us, and finally hunted down as racist transphobic anti-feminists and forced to forfeit everything we have including our very life?  Hopefully, it won’t go that far, but if it doesn’t, it will only be because the progressive left will have failed.  I only mention these dire predictions, because certainly, that is their ultimate goal.  Just remember though, in this torrent of dangerous drivel coming from the progressive elite, it is the world that is judging us for not being like them.  And the judgment of the world counts for nothing.  Let’s focus rather on the judgment of God, which we will all face sooner or later, and which counts far more highly as we are weighed in the balance and found worthy of heaven or hell.

The reason I mention these unpleasant things today is that we’re entering into the darkest and most unbearable period of the Church’s year, Passiontide.  We face the prospect of coming face to face again with the unspeakable torments our blessed Lord suffered for our sins.  We approach those days of darkness on which we are forced to come to terms with what we have done, and the consequences that our loving Saviour had to endure because of our manifold offences.  Psychologically this is not an easy time in our liturgical life, and this year it’s coupled with a whole new set of fears in even our own daily life.  Bleak times all round, and apparently there’s nowhere to turn for comfort.  Except God of course.  As we become embroiled in these fears for our own fate, we must remember that they did it all to our Lord first.  And if we are called upon to follow in his footsteps up Mount Calvary a little further than we had anticipated, then so be it.  We will follow.

This escalation of dire problems in the world is following a familiar pattern.  It starts with revolution against the sound moral values of a civilized society by a small minority who want to replace the laws of God and nature with, basically, nothing.  No laws.  No inhibitions.  Nothing to hold us back from doing whatever we want.  Welcome to the 1960s.  And half a century later, we’re left with the children and grandchildren of the hippy generation who are now all grown up and running our country and the world with increasingly outrageous spiritual and political ideas.  They are an ever growing minority, an ever growing cancer on our society, and there have been very few so far who have dared to lift a finger to cut this cancerous growth out. 

In the Middle Ages, they had the Inquisition for times like this.  That institution has acquired a very bad name in the world, but as Catholics, you should remember that again it is precisely this world that judges the Inquisition.  After all, four of the Grand Inquisitors are canonized saints: St. Peter the Martyr, St. John Capistran, St. Peter Arbues and Pope St. Pius V.  These were saints, not interested in hunting down those who didn’t agree with them, not concerned with punishing those who dared to deny the faith.  Their concern was solely with protecting the innocent from the wicked.  And today, if our own anger boils up against the wicked and the woke, we should follow their example and turn our anger into emotions of compassion for their victims rather than into hatred for their iniquity.

Unfortunately, the false Church of Vatican II has abolished the Office of the Inquisition, and has even apologized for the so-called “intolerance” of the past.  They have relaxed the moral laws and are currently exploring ways of relaxing even the natural law.  The result is that the innocent in society are no longer protected, and as a result have defected in droves from the moral values they once embraced.  It’s the path of the devil of course—"do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law.”  And that’s a very easy path to follow, once you change direction.

The events described in today’s Gospel are a microcosm of what is happening in the world today.  Take a look—many of the Jews have become sick and tired of Jesus and his teachings that placed the spirit of the law above the letter.  They’re so obsessed with their own interpretation of Scripture that when our Lord reprimands them for being “not of God,” they immediately seek to “cancel” him.  Their hatred spews forth and they accuse him, the Son of God no less, of having a devil.  Notice how calmly our Lord replies to the challenge, always offering his adversaries words of truth and charity. Any man of good will would react to his words by having an intelligent debate with our Lord, but these were not men of good will.  They showed their true colors by doubling down on their venomous attacks, “Now we know you have a devil.” They seek to use our Lord’s words to trick him into an admission that he is greater than Abraham so they would have an excuse for killing him for blasphemy against the holy patriarch.  Our Lord tells them instead that Abraham rejoiced to see this day, “he saw it, and was glad.”  Now the Jews mock Jesus for claiming to have known Abraham when he isn’t even fifty years old.  The conversation has gradually become more and more dangerous, but our Lord was not in the least disturbed by this.  He calmly announces what the evil men wanted to hear, “Before Abraham was, I am.”  And they rend their garments in horror at his words.  Despite all the truths he’d given them, all the opportunities to listen and understand the ways of God, they were hell-bent all along on their own agenda, which was to trap our Lord into blasphemy.  What they didn’t understand, and didn’t try to understand, was that the supposed blasphemy they heard was actually the simple and divine truth, the truth that here before them stood the Son of God himself.  They were too narrow-minded to contemplate his possibility.  And so then “they took up stones to cast at him.”

Have you noticed that whatever good things we say, or that other good people say, whether they’re conservative politicians or the few truthsayers left in the media, no matter what they say or how truthful or charitable it is, the progressive, woke crowd on the left will use their words to try and destroy them.  Just one example, if I may: when the CEO of Chick-Fil-A happened to mention a few years ago that he personally believes that marriage is between a man and a woman, the left went into a frenzy of hatred against his restaurants, banning Chick-Fil-A from their cities, boycotting their sandwiches, and basically trying to drive the whole company into bankruptcy.  The fact that it backfired, thanks to loyal conservative customers, only served to make them even more angry and hateful.  It’s just one example of how they operate, and unfortunately we’ve become so accustomed to this kind of destructive hate that we accept as being “normal.”

Our Lord warned us about this.  He said: “Remember the word that I said unto you, The servant is not greater than his lord. If they have persecuted me, they will also persecute you.”  It’s why, on this Passion Sunday, we try to come terms with not only the sufferings and death of our Saviour, but our own sorrows and tribulations also.  We call to mind that our Lord told the women of Jerusalem on the way to his crucifixion, “Weep not for me, but weep for yourselves, and for your children.”  We weep in our fear and in our pain, but at least we deserve it!  Like these holy women, we must follow our blessed Lord up that terrible hill that is Calvary, to whatever fate God permits us to suffer.  We are Christians, followers of Christ.  That sentiment is not meaningless.  We follow not just his teachings, we follow Him!  And where is he going?  To Golgotha, the place of the skull.  We know where he ended up in this life, and if we’re called upon to follow him there, then follow we must.  Listen to what he said: “If any man will come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it. For what will it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?”

So don’t worry if you’re being suspended from Facebook, don’t worry if you have to choose between your job and your health, don’t worry even when the really nasty stuff starts happening.  “Fear not,” said our Lord, “fear not them which kill the body but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.  Don’t worry about those other things, don’t sweat the small stuff.  Worry about falling into sin, worry about abandoning your Saviour and following the world to hell.  Keep your eyes on the prize: “Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”  If we follow Christ to Calvary, we will surely follow him to heaven.

MY GOD, I LOVE THEE, NOT BECAUSE

 A HYMN FOR PASSIONTIDE

Attributed to St. Francis Xavier, translated by Fr. Edward Caswall, 1849

 

My God, I love thee; not because

I hope for heaven thereby,

Nor yet because who love thee not

Are lost eternally.

 

Thou, O my Jesus, thou didst me

Upon the cross embrace;

For me didst bear the nails and spear

And manifold disgrace;

 

And griefs and torments numberless,

And sweat of agony;

Yea, death itself — and all for one

Who was thine enemy.

 

Then why, O blessèd Jesu Christ,

Should I not love thee well?

Not for the sake of winning heaven,

Nor of escaping hell.

 

Not from the hope of gaining aught,

Nor seeking a reward;

But as thyself hast lovèd me,

O ever-loving Lord

 

So would I love thee, dearest Lord,

And in thy praise will sing,

Solely because thou art my God,

And my most loving King.

 

ONE OF OUR EASTER DUTIES

 A REFLECTION FOR PASSION SUNDAY

As we know, it is one of the six precepts of the Church that we must, under pain of mortal sin, receive Holy Communion once a year around Easter time.  As that time is now, it would be a good idea to review certain aspects of the Sacrament of Penance so that we can prepare to make our Easter Duty in the right frame of mind.  There are five requirements that we must fulfill in order to receive the Sacrament of Penance worthily: we must examine our conscience, have sorrow for our sins, make a firm resolution to sin no more, confess our sins to the priest, and accept the penance the priest gives us.  I’d like to focus in on the second of these requirements, that of sorrow for our sin, otherwise known as contrition.

There are various kinds of contrition, and it’s important we know which kinds of contrition we must have when we go to confession.  Contrition must be a) interior, (b) supernatural, (c) universal, and (d) sovereign.

a)       Interior contrition.   Our sorrow does not depend on the words we say as we rattle off the Act of Contrition, nor even on the tears we manufacture for the purpose of impressing the priest.  Interior contrition means that it’s from the heart, that it’s truly meant.  We should not confuse this act of the will with the emotional “feelings” of guilt and shame.  Contrition is not a feeling but the intention to express to God our sorrow for having offended him.

b)       Supernatural contrition.  If we were to go to jail for having robbed a bank, the sorrow and regret we feel for having been caught and convicted is based on purely natural motives.  It is natural contrition, and it’s not enough to confess robbing the bank only because we got caught.  We must be sorry because we have done things forbidden by God and worthy of his punishment.

c)        Universal contrition.  We must be sorry for all our sins.  We might confess and be sorry for 999 sins out of a thousand, but if we aren’t sorry for that one thousandth sin, then none of our sins would be forgiven.  Why none of them?  Because we can’t expect to be restored to sanctifying grace through absolution and yet still be in the state of mortal sin, even if it’s only one.

d)       Sovereign contrition.  We should grieve more for having offended God than for any other evil that can befall us.  Just as we should fear future sins more than any other evil we might encounter, so should we have sorrow for our sins more than for any other misfortune we may have suffered, no matter how bad it was.

It is important before we go to confession, that we ask God to give us the graces to have these four elements of contrition, to instill in us a true grief of the soul for having offended him, and inspire us with a firm purpose of sinning no more.  “Ask and ye shall receive.”  He will give us the actual graces we need and then it’s up to us to work with those graces to avoid the occasions of sin and fight the temptations when they come.  Life is not easy, and staying out of sin is one of the hardest things we have to do.  Nevertheless, it’s a struggle that is worth making, as well we know when we contemplate our final choice between heaven and hell.