I Will Not Believe

Like most human beings, I’m very sympathetic to the disciple Thomas. Last Sunday’s Gospel reading recounted the story of Thomas’ iconic doubt – his declaration to his friends (who declared Christ risen because they had seen him) that “unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger into the nailmarks and put my hand into his side, I will not believe” (Jn. 20:25).

My typical “go-to” thought on this episode has always been, Who could blame the guy?  It’s only human to not accept that dead people come back to life. It’s only human to think that perhaps your friends are simply believing what they want to believe. It’s only human to doubt.

But this year it struck me how defiant Thomas was in his declaration, how he limited himself.

I will not believe.

Thomas had conditions for believing – three of them. Perhaps those conditions were not entirely unreasonable. Perhaps they were not unreasonable at all! But he intractably declared that if these conditions were not met, he would not believe.

When we draw lines in the sand, we box ourselves in. We tell God what is possible. We tell God what we will and will not believe. We don’t leave room for wild and unimaginable (and true) things like resurrection, incarnation, transformation and salvation. We draw a line, and we stay on the safe side.

It’s a shame to miss out on so much.

I’m still sympathetic to Thomas because I know I have my own conditions, my own demands. We all do. Can we be more aware of them? Can we try to let them go? Can we stop drawing lines so God can tell us the truth? Can we believe based on the word of another? Can we let the unimaginable be...real?

Jesus had sympathy for Thomas, too. He made a special trip out to see him. He invited Thomas to have his conditions met – see the marks, put your fingers here, place your hand here, in my side. “Believe,” he urged Thomas.

Jesus won’t give up on us, even if our faith is limited. But how free and wise and faithful we can be, if we believe without conditions.  How free and wise and faithful we can be if we place no limits on what God can do, or where he might be, or how the declaration “He is Risen!” may play out in our own lives.

There are many ways to place our hands in the side of Jesus, close to his heart. So in the spirit of Easter, let us not limit God, or ourselves.

The Incredulity of Saint Thomas, Francois-Joseph Navez, 1823.

One Hour Retreat for Holy Week: Who Am I? Where Is My Heart?

Pope Francis’ homily from Palm Sunday 2014 has always remained with me. For this year’s “One Hour Retreat for Holy Week,” I recommend that you first go back to the Passion story as told by Matthew, which we read together at Mass on Sunday. Then read Pope Francis’ reflection below, which is structured around a series of questions, each asking us to examine ourselves and our own place in the story of Jesus’ final hours.

Take your time with each question as you ponder the biblical text. Imagine yourself in the story. Be there with Jesus. Be honest with Jesus.

A very blessed Holy Week and a joyous Easter to each of you!

POPE FRANCIS’ PALM SUNDAY HOMILY 2014

“This week begins with the festive procession with olive branches: the entire populace welcomes Jesus. The children and young people sing, praising Jesus.  But this week continues in the mystery of Jesus’ death and his resurrection. We have just listened to the Passion of our Lord. We might well ask ourselves just one question:  Who am I? Who am I, before my Lord? Who am I, before Jesus who enters Jerusalem amid the enthusiasm of the crowd? Am I ready to express my joy, to praise him? Or do I stand back? Who am I, before the suffering Jesus?

We have just heard many, many names. The group of leaders, some priests, the Pharisees, the teachers of the law, who had decided to kill Jesus. They were waiting for the chance to arrest him. Am I like one of them?

We have also heard another name: Judas. Thirty pieces of silver. Am I like Judas? We have heard other names too: the disciples who understand nothing, who fell asleep while the Lord was suffering. Has my life fallen asleep? Or am I like the disciples, who did not realize what it was to betray Jesus? Or like that other disciple, who wanted to settle everything with a sword? Am I like them? Am I like Judas, who feigns loved and then kisses the Master in order to hand him over, to betray him? Am I a traitor?

Am I like those people in power who hastily summon a tribunal and seek false witnesses: am I like them? And when I do these things, if I do them, do I think that in this way I am saving the people?

Am I like Pilate? When I see that the situation is difficult, do I wash my hands and dodge my responsibility, allowing people to be condemned – or condemning them myself?

Am I like that crowd which was not sure whether they were at a religious meeting, a trial or a circus, and then chose Barabbas? For them it was all the same: it was more entertaining to humiliate Jesus.

Am I like the soldiers who strike the Lord, spit on him, insult him, find entertainment in humiliating him?

Am I like the Cyrenean, who was returning from work, weary, yet was good enough to help the Lord carry his cross?

Am I like those who walked by the cross and mocked Jesus:  “He was so courageous! Let him come down from the cross and then we will believe in him!” Mocking Jesus….

Am I like those fearless women, and like the mother of Jesus, who were there, suffering in silence?

Am I like Joseph [of Arimathea], the hidden disciple, who lovingly carries the body of Jesus to give it burial?

Am I like the two Marys, who remained at the Tomb, weeping and praying?

Am I like those leaders who went the next day to Pilate and said, “Look, this man said that he was going to rise again.  We cannot let another fraud take place!”, and who block life, who block the tomb, in order to maintain doctrine, lest life come forth?

Where is my heart? Which of these persons am I like? May this question remain with us throughout the entire week.”

* * * * *

Homily delivered by Pope Francis from St. Peter’s Square, Vatican, April 13, 2014; to see text on Vatican website, click here.

To see previous years' "One Hour Retreats for Holy Week," click here and here.

Unknown Egyptian artist. Gouache on papyrus. Courtesy Sacred Art Pilgrim.

Lent: Are We Living Dangerously Enough?

At Lent retreats, I used to ask participants if they had ever been to the desert.  But after moving up to Connecticut, I finally stopped.  Everyone said “no.”  Except a few who would ask, “Does Las Vegas count?”

No, Las Vegas does not count.

Have you ever been to the desert? 

I have.  I understand what the desert is all about.  It is quiet, still, empty, beautiful, harsh and dangerous.  In the desert, you are always one false move away from needing something desperately.  Like water, or shade, or an antidote for a snake or spider bite. Yes, my desert had tarantulas.

In the desert you face your own fragility and the fragility of those around you.  All it takes is that mercilessly hot West Texas sun to remind you that your place in the universe is small and precarious.  Survival is not a given.

Jesus spent forty days in the desert.  Israel spent forty years.  Days and years of precarious living.  Days and years of facing one’s own weakness, accepting that survival is not a given, looking beyond oneself or one’s environment for certainty. 

Leaning heavily upon God alone, Jesus and Israel emerged from their deserts.  Israel settled in a new land and embarked upon an enormous task, to live faithfully as God’s people.  Jesus was strengthened and resolved for mission, to tell God’s story to the human race and to love his own to the end.

We speak of Lent as our desert time.  In this desert, do we recognize how fragile we are, how precarious life is, how the structures and things we depend on for security are one false move away from falling around us like a house of cards? 

Precarious living is actually Gospel living.  It recognizes that total dependence on God is where true strength is found.  The trials of the desert are where we meet God and live only by what he offers – living water, the shadow of his wing, and the antidote of his love. 

From Lent, from life, from desert, we may not emerge unscathed.  But we can emerge as God’s own, strengthened, emboldened for mission and “filled with the power of the Spirit” (Lk. 4:14). 

* * *

“If we ask God for so little it may well be because we feel the need for him so little.  We are leading complacent, secure, well-protected, mediocre lives.  We aren’t living dangerously enough; we aren’t living the way Jesus wanted us to live when he proclaimed the good news” (Anthony de Mello, Contact with God: Retreat Conferences). 

Briton Riviere, The Temptation in the Wilderness, 1898

Sunday's Gospel: Self-Preservation vs. Love

The following is republished with permission from my column in Catechist Magazine.  For subscription information, visit Catechist.com.

FEBRUARY 19, Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, Gospel Reading: Matthew 5:38-48

In this Sunday’s Gospel reading, Jesus continues to examine laws and take us to a deeper, more demanding understanding of them. He continues to follow the “antithesis” formula: “You have heard that it was said ... But I say to you ... ”

This excerpt from the Sermon on the Mount provides us with some of Jesus’ most revolutionary and challenging teachings. First Jesus acknowledges a long-standing law of retribution: “You have heard that it was said, 'An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth'” (verse 38). This ancient way of living in community, though it may sound harsh to our modern ears, was indisputably logical and certainly effective in preventing some crimes. If you knew that if you gouged someone’s eye out, they could lawfully gouge your eye out, you might think twice about doing the gouging in the first place!

And yet, as we might expect, this ancient law was far from Jesus’ ideal. He proceeded to teach something far less logical, something that goes against the grain of just about every human instinct we have: “But I say to you, offer no resistance to one who is evil. When someone strikes you on your right cheek, turn the other one as well” (verse 39). Jesus goes on to offer similar difficult teachings about giving to anyone who asks, and serving anyone who makes a request of you. All of this is to be done without expecting anything in return.

The next antithesis is even more difficult: “You have heard that it was said, You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy. But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (verses 43-44). This may be the most-ignored teaching of Jesus in the history of Christianity. How often do we excuse ourselves from it because it seems so extreme? How often do we tell ourselves that Jesus did not mean it for our particular situation? How often do we secretly deem it impossible? Indeed, as Jesus continues to preach, we discover that he wants us to live like God himself: “For he makes his sun rise on the bad and the good, and causes rain to fall on the just and unjust” (verse 45). Being like God is a tall order, but Jesus does not say “try” or “sometimes.” He simply says to do it.

Our most basic human instinct is self-preservation. Jesus is challenging this instinct. He wants us to receive his teaching with the total dedication of a true disciple. If we do, our instincts can gradually be reshaped. Self-preservation falls by the wayside as we begin to instinctively act out of love for others. This teaching is as revolutionary now as it was then. To intentionally make sacrifices for the sake of others is the way of Jesus himself, the way of the Cross, the way of true discipleship.

ASK YOURSELF: In what area of my life can I live these difficult teachings? How can I avoid retaliating, even in small ways? How can I show love for someone who is opposed to me in some way?

ASK YOUR STUDENTS: Do you think it is impossible to love someone who is your enemy? How might you learn to do this? When Jesus says we should allow someone to strike us, do you think he means we should allow others to physically hurt us or verbally abuse us? Help your students distinguish between abuse (which should never be tolerated) and situations where they can safely choose not to retaliate (discuss some examples).

PRAY: Lord Jesus, you must think very highly of me to have such wonderful expectations of me! Help me to live up to your expectations. I can only follow your teachings if you help me.

LIVE THE GOSPEL: This week identify someone in your life who may not be an “enemy” but who is difficult to live with, work with, or be around. Ask God daily for the grace to love this person. Pray for this person. Find small, concrete ways to extend kindness to them.

Grisaille (underpainting) of Jesus and Thomas by Jack Baumgartner.  The stance of Jesus in this scene demonstrates the absolute receptiveness of Jesus to the other.  It might be trite to say a picture speaks a thousand words, but this one actually does.  Published with permission.  More of Jack's incredible work can be found here. 

Sunday's Gospel: Those Countercultural Beatitudes

The following is republished with permission from my column in Catechist Magazine.  For subscription information, visit Catechist.com.

JAN. 29 , 4th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Gospel Reading: Matt. 5:1-12a

This week we have the familiar teachings of Jesus known as the “beatitudes.” Beatitudes are blessings, and they were common expressions in Jewish writing. For example, Proverbs 8:32 reads, “Happy are they who keep my ways.” As is the case in this verse from Proverbs, the word “blessed” is sometimes translated as “happy.” The blessed one is the happy one, the one whose life is governed by God’s will and wisdom.

Having heard these verses so many times, we often forget how surprising they were and how countercultural they still are. Wouldn’t it have been more logical for Jesus to say blessed—or happy—are those who have everything they need, who have nothing to mourn, who own things, who have land? Aren’t these the people that God has blessed? Aren’t these signs of their prosperity and favor with God?

A major thrust of Jesus’ ministry was to dispel these myths about the supposed connection between worldly prosperity and God’s favor. The wealthy are not prosperous because God loves them more than he loves the poor. Those who are heartbroken have not displeased God. Those who are sick or in pain do not deserve their plight due to their own sin or the sin of their ancestors. Instead, Jesus says, God loves those who are suffering—the poor, the marginalized, those who are hurting. They are blessed— happy—because they are God’s special ones. If they turn to God in their poverty, their mourning, their lowliness, their hunger, they will be satisfied by the abundance of God himself.

As you can imagine, Jesus’ teachings not only comforted the poor and suffering, but they disturbed the wealthy and prosperous. Suddenly their complacency and self-assuredness was dislocated, thrown off balance. Jesus challenged the notion that their wealth and status were automatic signs of God’s favor. Jesus the teacher strikes again: soul-searching required all around.

NOTE: You may have noticed the letter a at the end of the biblical citation for today’s reading (Matthew 5:1-12a). The letters a and b (sometimes even c) are used to indicate the first half (a) or the second half (b) of a Scripture verse. (The letter c is used when the verse is easily divided into thirds. John 1:1 would be an example of this: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”) Matthew 5:12a indicates that in today’s Gospel reading, only the first half of verse 5:12 is included.

ASK YOURSELF: Which of the beatitudes resonates most with me right now? Why? What is Jesus promising me or asking of me?

ASK YOUR STUDENTS: Which one of the beatitudes from today’s reading is hardest to understand? Why? Which one is special to you?

PRAY: Jesus the teacher, may your ancient words fall on fresh, fertile ground and change me.

LIVE THE GOSPEL: The beatitudes challenge us to see each other differently. This week seek out someone who is suffering in some way— poor, sad, lonely, ill. Treat them with the comfort, mercy, and peace Jesus promises in the beatitudes.

Elsie Anna Wood, Illustration from The Sermon on the Mount, by Elsie Anna Wood. Courtesy Sacred Art Pilgrim.