Pentecost Sunday 2024

John 7:37-39

What feast are we talking about in this gospel?  Well, if you go back a bit you will see that this is the feast of Tabernacles, or the feast of Booths, or as it is named in Hebrew, Sukkot.  It’s one of seven feasts of the Jewish religion.  It goes back to the book of Numbers.  It’s a seven day long celebration, commemorating the time the Israelites wandered in the dessert and finally entered the promised land where the story has it that it was then God stopped providing Manna and water from a rock because they now had their own land and abundant crops left over from the previous inhabitants that had been driven out.

The feast started with the building of symbolic dwellings.  In the cities sticks would be erected on flat roofs and the observant Jew would spend some time each day in the makeshift structure, remembering how there was a time when the people were homeless.  On the seventh day the priests in the temple would fill an ornate jug with water and march in procession into the temple and around the main altar upon which they would pour the water as a sacrifice to God.  Then the men in the crowd would raise a piece of fruit or a sheaf of grain in the air and call out “Praise God” three times.  So the seventh day, the last day of the celebration, was a day when water itself was honored.

We don’t have much of a water problem in our part of the country.  In fact there are times when it seems we have too much.  A few years ago a cousin of mine who farmed in Montana had to make a daily round trip of about sixty miles to obtain enough water to keep his livestock alive; Montana was having one of the worst droughts it had ever experienced.  Anybody who has anything to do with plants understands the relationship between water and life.  And Jesus’ audience were even more sensitive, because Israel is semi-arid in its climate and famine from crop failure was always a possibility.  

Now let’s examine the statement that  Jesus makes:  “ Let anyone who thirsts come to me and drink..  As scripture says, “Rivers of living water will flow from within him who believes in me.”  Jesus is quoting Isaiah in that last part, but there are many allusions in the prophetic writings to the life-giving force of water, and to the comparison of what God will do to what water does, which is to bring life.  Isn’t it interesting that belief in Jesus does something to us that allows us not only to have a new life, but to communicate that life; we become the source of that living water, which is the Spirit.

John the gospel writer makes the point that there was, of course, no Spirit yet, because Jesus had not yet been glorified.  But there are many references to the Spirit of God in the Old testament.  In the beginning of Genesis we read: “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was formless and barren, and darkness covered the abyss while the Spirit of God hovered over the waters.” And Jesus quotes Isaiah himself at the beginning of his public ministry, when he reads “The spirit of the Lord is upon me because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor…”  Obviously John is not saying that the Spirit didn’t exist until Jesus had gone through his passion, death and resurrection.  He does say that something new has happened because of Jesus’ glorification. 

The Jews of Jesus' time considered their temple as the place where they met God in a special way.  That’s why they only had one temple.   That's why they had pilgrimages.  That’s why the only place you could have your sins forgiven was to sacrifice something in the temple.  The temple was the source of living water -- Ezekiel had that vision in which he saw water flowing from the temple giving life to trees that provided food and medicine.  Jesus is now the source of the living water, and it is within the believer that the encounter between God and Man is to take place.  The Spirit makes us a new creation -- individually and as part of the Body of Christ, the Church.  This transformation, possible because of the sacrifice of Jesus, began on that first Pentecost, continuing in the world and in we believers even today.

The Spirit within us is a down payment on the glory that Saint Paul promises is to come, the glory of transformed existence when there will no longer be any opposition to Christ’s reign, when our lives will no longer be disrupted because our old nature wants to hang on to sin and the gloriously transformed new nature hungers after holiness and godliness.  Deep inside everyone is an empty space wanting to be filled up with God; and the waters that wells up within us makes that possible.  

Seventh Sunday in Easter, cycle B

The Gospel we read today is part of Jesus’ high priestly prayer, in which he prays for his disciples -- that’s you and I.  Today I was struck by two statements:  “I gave them your word, and the world hates them, because they do not belong in the world anymore than I  belong in the world”.  Then Jesus says, “I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one.’

Those two statements almost contradict each other, don’t they?  That’s one of the fun things about reading the bible -- you encounter speed bumps that make you stop and think, and the more you read the bible, the more speed bumps you meet.

So as I held those statements in my head, I went over to the Jewish nursing home for my weekly visit. As I met new residents, I was reminded of someone I encountered several weeks ago.  She was an elderly woman who had had knee replacement surgery a few years back.  The joint became swollen and started to be mildly uncomfortable, so she saw her doctor, who aspirated fluid and found it to be infected.  She was admitted to the hospital for intensive antibiotic treatment and drainage of the abscess.  While in the hospital some abnormalities in her blood test lead to further studies, and to make a long story short, she turned out to have cancer involving the liver.  The next day they transferred her to the rehab hospital.  When I met her she was still in shock -- and there was no one in her life to be with her -- she hadn’t told her children yet.  

But her story isn’t that unusual.  We all will have a moment when something will come along that will remind us that we are mortal, that we are really helpless to change what is happening to us.  And we will be in shock.  And we will have to make a decision -- do I move closer to God or further away?  And unfortunately many people move further away, because they can't believe that God would treat them that way.  But you meet other people whose faith is strengthened, and they grow closer to God because in a way, everything else they thought was important becomes much less important.  Somehow in this moment they see more clearly, and conclude that the God they believe in does everything for the good of those he loves -- you and I included.

You and I practice our faith and we go along day to day.  We have ups and downs and always look forward to getting back to normal.  And we know by our faith that God loves us -- the gospel we are reading is an example:  Jesus himself prays for us.  And that’s why he does not pray that the Father take us out of this world in which we don’t belong.  

We can’t earn our salvation by doing good things or praying a lot.  The Old Testament tells us that.  God gave the Israelites many rules, and the implication was that if they followed those rules, they could achieve salvation.  And they never did follow the rules, and the prophets came and reminded them, and it didn’t work.  Jesus is the only one who finally kept the commandments perfectly,  And he invites us to share in his triumph by believing in him, by forming a relationship with him.  And if we believe that God loves us so much that everything that happens to us is meant for our good, then somehow the worst moments in our lives are really meant to draw us more deeply into that relationship -- at the risk of destroying it, because we are free.  As Jesus told his disciples, “I no longer call you slaves, I  call you my friends”.  And a true friend will do everything possible for the good of his friend, short of taking away his freedom.

And as I thought about these things I was reminded of that dreadful moment when Jesus was hanging on the cross and people were mocking him.  And the thief on one side joined in the mockery.  And the thief on the other side said “we are here because we deserve to be, we did the crime.(I’m paraphrasing again) but this man is innocent!Then turning to Jesus he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”  And he heard those words we all long to hear, “Today you will be with me in paradise”.  In the moment of greatest helplessness, in the moment when the entire future disappears in a wink, the good thief shows you and I that those moments are when Jesus opens himself up to us completely, and waits for us to freely choose to deepen our relationship to the point of becoming one with him.  

This of course is Mother’s Day weekend.  My very best friend in the world is a mother and a grandmother.  She’s given birth six times, none of which was easy.  She’s been disappointed by me and by her children more than once, and forgives easily.  She’s worried for her kids and grandchildren, and that leads her to praying for them.  And everything just seems to bring her closer to Jesus.  A good mother, maybe more so than a good priest, reminds me of Jesus, because she stands ready to give up everything for her family.  So happy Mother’s day to all you Mothers -- I hope you realize what a beautiful vocation you have.  

The Sixth Sunday of Easter, cycle B

John 15:9 - 17

Are you a joyful person?  Jesus makes that statement today that always bothers me a little because I’m not sure my joy is complete.  The older I get, though, the more I see a relationship between joy and holiness.  Nine months after I became a deacon I was about to serve in that role on Holy Saturday, which as you know is a complicated liturgy.  I told Monsignor Devine that I was afraid I’d make a fool of myself by forgetting something important and he told me what I’ve told many altar servers since then.  If you don’t know what to do, move slowly and look holy.  There are probably several kinds of joy.  Jesus refers to his joy.  In the Gospel of John I think it’s clear that Jesus finds his joy in being perfectly aligned with God’s will, and apparently expects that to be the case for us as well.  As Saint Augustine said, “Our hearts are restless until they rest in you, O Lord.” 

This is the month of Mary.  Some of you may have heard of the Franciscan Crown Rosary.  It’s like a regular rosary but has seven decades with two extra Hail Mary’s, making 72.  It was believed that Mary lived seventy two years before her earthly life ended.  With each decade you meditate on one of the seven joys of  Mary.  These are the Annunciation, the Visitation, the Birth of Our Lord, the visit from the Magi, the Finding of Our Lord in the temple, the Resurrection and the Assumption of Mary into heaven, body and soul.  

Now I am not going to say the Crown Rosary right now.  But I think we can meditate on these joys of Mary and see parallels in our own lives, because after all who doesn't want to be assumed into heaven some day?

Saint Bernard envisioned all of heaven holding its breath while waiting for Mary’s answer to the question the Angel asked.  But the angel Gabriel never asked a question. He simply said “Hello, you lucky girl! You are going to be the mother of the Savior!”  Mary knew enough biology to question just how that would happen, and when the angel elaborated, Mary responded “Do it to me like you said.” I’m giving you a different translation of the Greek words.  So we recognize that joy exists in accepting God’s will for us, even when it doesn’t fit our plans.

In the Visitation, Luke tells us that Mary heard that Elizabeth was with child, and immediately traveled to help her out.  It was when she met Elizabeth that she knew the Angel’s promise had  been fulfilled -- Elizabeth said, “How is it that the mother of my Lord has come to me?”  We all find joy when something confirms that we are on the right path.  That’s how you know your charism -- your gift from the Holy Spirit meant to build up the Church.  You feel a certain satisfaction when you are using it.  

In the Birth of Our Lord, Luke tells us that the shepherds came to worship her child, and were then joined by angels.  There is a great joy in the assurance of others that you are doing what God desires of you.  We are social animals of course, and the path of life we walk is easier when we feel the support of others.

In the Adoration by the  Magi, was Mary joyful because she realized that her son would be offering salvation to the whole world, not just the Jews?  We get a little taste of this, I think when we read about good things happening because of the actions of fellow members of our Church, even when we have nothing to do with it. That recent movie, Cabrini, meant more to us practicing Catholics than to other people. 

After  Jesus is found in the temple, Mary must have felt joy to have her twelve year old boy back, even as she scolds him a little.  But I think the real joy is in the sentence, he returned with them to Nazareth and was obedient to them, and grew in wisdom and grace and favor”  Most of us who have children have experienced the satisfaction of the family being together.  IT’s a common enough joy, but a joy nevertheless.

And of course the sixth joy, the Resurrection of Jesus, was proof that  death has been conquered.  As an aside, scripture is silent on whether or not Jesus appeared to Mary after his resurrection. I sometimes wonder if this was because Mary was the only human being who didn’t need that to happen to believe it. After all he had predicted it, and that might have been enough for her, if not for the apostles.    

And the seventh joy, of course, was Mary’s assumption into heaven.  That moment of course will be the greatest joy for you and I as well.

So think about the joys of Mary this month.  Measure your own joy against hers and learn from her how to find Christ’s joy in you and have it become complete.  

Fifth Sunday of Easter, cycle B

 John 15:1-8

“By this my father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.” I think we all see ourselves as disciples, or we wouldn't be here. We try to live good lives, we pray, we treat others as we would like to be treated -- but maybe we don’t always pay attention to the first part of Jesus’ statement, that you bear much fruit.

Years ago One of my daughters was doing graduate work in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and I went there to visit her. I was trying to help her get set up in some kind of housing, and we had a free day, so we went into the hinterland, because we had heard that there were wineries in Louisiana. We came to a winery, and walked in to see a young dad chasing a small child and after catching him, disappearing into another part of the complex. We waited and waited, and finally an older guy came out. He had a nice creole accent, and took us to the tasting room. He enthusiastically had us taste several of his wines. They were all terrible. He kept saying that they were meant to be used with Louisiana cuisine, which tends to be spicy. He then took us out to look at where he grew the grapes, and since I’ve gone to many vineyards, I was shocked to see the disorder and wild growth. These grapevines, I believe, had never been pruned. There were bearing grapes, but their main product seemed to be more vines and grape leaves. So we bought a couple of bottles. I may still have them.

In a commercial vineyard, the farmer spends a lot of time tending the vines. In the spring as the vines come to life, the branches have flowers or leaves. The flowers are where the grapes will be. The farmer trims away the branches with no flowers, and may prune back the branches that have flowers. The ancient idea was to get the vine to put all it’s energy into the formation of grapes, and that seems to be how it works. When you get to the harvest of a well-tended vineyard, sometimes it looks like the vine is almost dead -- but there are big fat clusters of grapes on the branches that have survived the pruning.

Jesus is making the point here that the only way we can be fruitful as we are meant to be is to be pruned. And being pruned isn’t fun. But you can see how it works for us human beings. We have some control over the process. We always have the choice of letting go of things we love, things we thought were permanent, and clinging to Christ, or letting go of Christ to chase the things we love in the world. And the more we choose Christ, the more fruitful we will be. How do we measure fruitfulness? We don’t. We go about our lives trying to imitate Jesus Christ. We learn about his life and observe the things he did. We try to be “other Christs” as were the saints. We can be pretty sure we are seeing Christ when we closely examine the Church’s saints, because that’s the whole purpose of canonization -- to point to someone who has imitated Christ, someone we can learn from. We may never see the fruit that we bear. I’m sure Saint Francis never dreamed he would be the founder of not one but several orders of men and women who take him for their model. But what is obvious is that Francis didn’t care about too much besides his relationship with Jesus. Starting the Franciscan order and all the other things he did in his life was a consequence of his love for the Lord. Or look at Luis and Zele Martrin, the parents of Saint Therese of Lisieux. Zele left letters to members of her family in which she expressed her determination to get her children into heaven. She and Luis made sure the family prayed together, knew their catechism lessons, and so forth. And they prayed for their children. Luis continued this resolve after Zele died. When you read about this couple, they seemed to have a lot of fun, a strong prayer life, and self-discipline; and indeed besides Therese, their other four children who survived infancy all became nuns. So you never know what fruit you will bear -- our job is to be faithful and remain attached to the vine, no matter what we have to give up to do that.

We can’t ask whether we are bearing fruit. That can’t be measured. A few years ago there was a thriving religious order called the “Legionaries of Christ”. I was impressed by them; they seemed to be just what the Church needed. Then it turned out that their founder had several relationships with women, treated his staff badly, insisted on blind obedience from the members of his order, and misused the money the order raised. When all this came to light the Pope ordered him to withdraw from leadership and take up a life of repentance, which he did, to his credit; but the order has sickened and almost died. In another place Jesus promises that “by their fruits you will know them”.

We don’t have control over whether our efforts will bear fruit, or for that matter, when they will bear fruit. But Jesus promises that those who remain in him will bear fruit. That’s the goal of our faith.

Fourth Sunday of Easter, cycle B

John 10:11-18

I spent part of my medical training at Roswell Park Institute in Buffalo, one of the oldest cancer centers in the country.  I had a very close friend, a couple of years older than me, who had finished his training and stayed on as a member of the faculty.  We would get into some great discussions over a beer now and then.  I still touch base with him every year during the Christmas season.  

My friend was and is an agnostic.  Not an atheist, not a believer; he simply doesn’t care.  For him, even in his old age, this is the only life you can be sure of, so live it as best you can.  That’s not bad advice for anyone.  But here’s the thing.  Jesus said that he is the way, the truth and the life and no one can come to the father except through him.  Saint Peter said, “there is no other name by which we are saved.”  And for two thousand years people have given up their lives in the attempt to bring the good news to the world.  My friend, by the way, married a nice Irish Catholic girl with two aunts who were nuns, and he spent many years accompanying her and their children to church.  Even after she passed away, he continued to send in the contribution to the collection plate.  

So what do we do with my friend?  Can I hope that Jesus will raise him up on the last day?  My friend doesn’t believe, and I doubt he ever will; and Jesus seems to have made belief in him the condition for salvation; certainly, that’s what Paul taught.  I suspect we all have dear ones who are like my friend.

Today’s gospel has Jesus calling himself the Good Shepherd.  The way much of John’s gospel is arranged, Jesus works a sign; people ask him what that is all about; then he tells them.  The sign he worked before the good shepherd explanation was that of the man blind from birth.  You probably remember -- the Pharisees kept trying to get him to deny that Jesus had cured him, but he stuck to his guns and got thrown out of the synagogue.  That’s when Jesus finds him and asks if he believes in the Son of Man? The man says, “Who is that?” and Jesus replies “You’re looking at him”.  As you can tell, If I had written John’s gospel it would have been much shorter.  

But the point is that Jesus calls the blind man into his flock, but the last step is an act of faith, not faith in some abstract concept, not even becoming a member of the church, which didn’t really exist when this event was to have taken place.  And Jesus goes on to talk about other sheep that do not belong to this fold; these also must I lead, and they will hear my voice”.  

A lot of the time we are accustomed to thinking that you have to be a member of the church to be in Christ’s flock.  Vatican II allowed the possibility that non-Catholic Christians who are baptized are in some sense part of the church.  John Paul II emphasized that God’s covenant with the Jewish people wasn’t just snatched away.  The theologian Karl Rahner invented the idea of “anonymous Christians” -- people who didn’t know Christ through no fault of their own, but tried to live as best they could given what they did know.  And finally the theologian von Balthazar wrote a book entitled “Dare we hope that all will be saved?” to which his answer was yes -- so you don’t have to read the book now.  And I think we all hope this, but yet if everyone can be saved, what is the Church for?

One great answer is that the Church is not there to save people, primarily.  It is there to show that the salvation Jesus offers is already present, already at work in the world.  We can only be saved because of Jesus’ sacrifice, true, and when you look at the church, warts and all, you see the evidence of that.  And at the bottom of our souls is a hope for some unconstricted good that meets the hunger we all have in our beings.  In our minds we desire truth, we are hungry for that as well.  And we all long to leave our loneliness and know each other as we know ourselves.  And Christ is the answer to all these longings.  And for those who have not yet met Christ, their task is to be faithful to that hunger for good, for truth, for unity, which only Jesus can satisfy.

My friend has faults, but nothing you wouldn’t find in many of our fellow parishioners.  But he values truth, he seeks the good, he loves his fellow human beings, especially his family.  And I pray for him every day that on this side or the other side of the grave, he will meet the only one who is the good shepherd, who is seeking those not of his flock.

Third Sunday of Easter, cycle B

Luke 24:35-48

When I was growing up I seem to remember frequent get-together’s with the families of my cousins -- and I had a lot of them.  Or maybe we’d go over to the grandparents’ house for supper, or vice versa.  My mother and father liked to entertain, about the only thing they agreed upon.  My mother had nine siblings, and four were farmers or married to farmers.   I remember when I was a newly minted doctor and went back to Montana. I had some time so I drove to the farm country to join several relatives for supper. Interesting topics come up at mealtime.  The men got into an argument about which was better as a fertilizer, chicken manure or cow manure?  After a great deal of debate, my cousin turned to me and asked me what I thought, because I was a doctor.  I don’t remember my answer.

Today Jesus appears in the midst of his disciples once again; and they are startled and terrified once again.  Jesus has been murdered.  His heart has been impaled on a spear just to make sure he was dead.  He was buried in the ground, wrapped in a shroud.  And he rises from the dead.  The world will never be the same.  The most momentous event in history, past, present, and future, has taken place.  God was put to death and man rose from the dead, and God and man were one in this Jesus.  And Jesus asks, “do you have anything to eat?”  

What kind of question is that, Jesus?  I imagine that dying and rising from the dead can make you pretty hungry – but still....

It's possible to read this statement as a way for Jesus to show his disciples that he is flesh and bone, not a ghost.  But remember that in the section of the gospel just before this one, he was sitting at the table sharing a meal with the two disciples who had just told the apostles about their own meeting with Jesus.  

I think instead that Jesus wanted to eat with his disciples again; the desire to share food with friends is perhaps a much stronger sign of being human than having a body of flesh and bone.  

But eating with other people is an intimate act, and not an exclusive one.  Most of us who are married began our relationship with meals together – usually these would begin with sharing food and drink at a party or a dance, gradually progressing to that first deliberate meal together in a nice restaurant.  And getting away to eat together is still a way we renew our relationship.  

The Quakers have an insight which I think all of us can appreciate; unlike most Christian denominations, they do not celebrate the lord's supper, the Eucharist, holy communion – all terms which have to do with a symbolic meal of bread and wine, which we Catholics believe becomes the body and blood of Christ.  The Quakers, though, believe that wherever two or more people share a meal, it is a sacred meal.  God is present in a special way.  We can see the roots of the idea in the statement Jesus made, “wherever two or three are gathered in my name, there I am.”  

When Jesus appeared among his disciples, they were frightened and even terrified.  When he asked them for something to eat, they were reassured because they had heard words like that from him so many times before when they walked with him through the length and breadth of Israel.  No doubt they remembered the little girl whom Jesus had raised from the dead.  As he handed her to her parents, his words to them were “you give her something to eat.”  After he raises his friend Lazarus from the dead, the next scene has Jesus at a supper being held in the home of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus.  On the shore of the lake after his resurrection he starts a charcoal fire and cooks some fish, and calls his apostles: “come, have breakfast. “ 

In our world we are losing something that makes us human.     In many homes everyone eats when their schedule permits.  And when there is an attempt to get everybody to sit down together, there is often someone who feels put out because they will be late for the next event.  

When we eat with each other, we make ourselves vulnerable; we open ourselves up in more ways than opening our mouths.  We can't really eat with other people unless we converse, even if we talk about nothing but the weather.  If we don't speak, we are eating alongside them, not with them.  

It's important, I think, for us to make an effort to recapture the act of eating together, at least now and then.  It's important for our humanity, it's important to overcome alienation and loneliness.  And it's important for our appreciation of the Eucharist, which, after all, is a meal, a meal in common, a meal in which we share the bread and wine and speak with each other and with our father, all in response to the invitation of Jesus: “take and eat this, all of you, for this is my body.”

So you've just heard a sermon about sharing a meal.  Maybe you feel it's a small matter.  But figure if Jesus asked for something to eat after changing history, opening the gates of heaven, overcoming death, and winning our salvation, it isn't a small matter at all.   

Second Sunday of Easter, cycle b

 Divine Mercy Sunday 2024

John 20:19-31

Some of you experienced the Tridium, the three days leading up to Easter Sunday. I woke up Sunday morning feeling like I had really accomplished something.  I’d been to the mountaintop!  I’d participated in each of these services, wore red on Thursday, purple on Friday, white on Saturday.  The washing of the feet, the honoring of the Cross, the confirmation of two members of our parish.  I felt very holy.  Of course not everybody can do the Tridium, especially families with small children.  Going to these services would have been too much.  For all of us though, Easter Sunday seems to mark a new beginning.  Christ has risen.  Now it’s a week later.  How are you and I different?  Do you see the world in new ways?  I must confess I don’t feel as though things have changed for me.  Except of course I don’t have to abstain anymore, so I’ll miss those lobster dinners we had every Friday.  

But I guess we aren’t alone.  The apostles have witnessed the empty tomb; they’ve personally spoken with the risen Jesus, and received reports from Mary Magdalene and the other women and the two disciples who met him on the road.  As you’ve just heard, Jesus sent them forth and gave them the power to forgive sins.  So here we are a week later, and the apostles are still inside that room.  And John will tell us about even later when some of these apostles have decided to go back to fishing.  It’s as though the resurrection didn’t make any difference in their lives.  

But of course we know that it did.  We wouldn’t be here in this church today if it hadn’t completely changed their lives, so much so that they died rather than deny the truth of the resurrection.

Christ’s resurrection is a big deal; the empty tomb is a life-changing event.  The resurrection should make a difference in our lives.  But it takes time.

Thomas will be known as “doubting Thomas” for the rest of human history.  And even after he fell on his knees and declared his faith -- he’s the first one of the apostles to recognize that Jesus is not just the Messiah, but God - John tells us Thomas is out there fishing with Peter and the others on that lake in Galilee.  It’s as though this event, this moment when he recognized the divine in Jesus, didn’t make much of a difference.  But we all know it did. Thomas brought Christianity to India, and when Portuguese missionaries visited India in the fifteenth century, they found a thriving Christian community which claimed Thomas as its founder.  The liturgical language was Syriac, which is very similar to Aramaic, the language Jesus and Thomas spoke.  Thomas, like all but one of the apostles, died a martyr’s death.

Resurrection makes a difference in our lives; but it takes time.  It’s not so much an event as a process.  Through cooperation with God’s grace, we become resurrected people.  

The empty tomb is a fact, Resurrection is a story.  Facts are like snapshots; stories are more like movies.  Facts are starting points for stories.  Whatever the facts of my life, of your life, today, that’s the starting point for our resurrection story.  Wherever you are now, that’s the room that Jesus enters into your life.  Maybe you are going through a health scare, or the loss of a loved one, or difficulty with a family member.  Maybe you are being blessed by good fortune.  Where you are today is your locked room.  The great tragedy for the apostles is not that they haven’t done anything.  The tragedy would have been if they had remained in that locked room, if they had refused to get out of the house.

Jesus comes into our locked rooms, invites us to embark upon the great adventure of resurrection.  He will keep coming back, offering us peace, hope, courage; and when we accept those gifts, we can unlock the door, we can become resurrection people.

What doors are locked in your life?  Are there things that have kept you stuck in the same place? We made resolutions at the beginning of lent, and maybe didn’t keep them that well.  That’s ok.  Maybe we need to make resolutions at the beginning of the Easter season.  What can we do to become people of the resurrection?