A - Seventh Sunday of Easter

We read in the New Testament about the many times that Jesus would slip away to pray and spend time alone and with His Father. At the start of his ministry and after his Baptism he went off to the wilderness for forty days for a time of extended prayer and fasting. And later we read in Luke how great crowds came to hear Jesus preach and to be healed, yet he would frequently withdraw to the wilderness to pray. And, as the end of his life approached, we read that while in the garden of Gethsemane, he withdrew from his disciples to pray by himself at this dark hour. For some it may be curious that Jesus would ever need to pray, for after all he was God - so some thoughtful souls may think his praying is somehow cyclical. But Jesus was not praying to himself, He was praying to his Father whom he loved, and to a Father who loved first. These times of prayer were deeply personal and profoundly relational. But what is it that Jesus would pray for?

In our Gospel reading today we can listen in as Jesus prays in preparation for the hour of his own crucifixion and death. This prayer is sometimes called Jesus's High Priestly Prayer since it is a prayer for petition, intercession and of mediation – prayers that are offered up to God by priests. If you read this chapter carefully you will see in it, reflections of both the Our Father prayer and the Eucharistic prayers we hear at Mass. Today we hear the first part of the High Priestly Prayer as Jesus prays for the Glorification of God and of his Son. In these words, both intimacy and love are made readily apparent. What we hear in Jesus’s prayer is played out in time as God the Father is glorified by Jesus and by his obedience and willingness to die for the sake of all humanity. Through this same sacrificial act Jesus himself is glorified by His Father. To be glorified means to make clearly apparent the fullness of God’s presence. This request for mutual glorification is a request that the eternal exchange of love and life between Father and Son be made manifest - let our love be revealed so all might see and know. The cross demonstrates both the love of the Father, who gives his one and only son for the salvation of all, and the Son who for the love of his Father obeys him in this perfect act of sacrifice and devotion. And so, the Glory of the Godhead is revealed and only further revealed, as Christ takes up his life again, demonstrating that neither sin nor death have power, but love and sacrifice do. God has already given authority over all people to the Son. By means of his glorious resurrection you and I now share in eternal life.

In praying for his disciples Jesus makes clear he does not pray for the world. Here the term 'world' means things to which the world inclines itself, towards selfishness, individual power, personal success at the price of another person, sin, evil, and darkness. Jesus's prayer is one of protection and unity in community and purpose, that we continue to remain in relationship with God and each other and in so doing to be seen by the world as giving glory to God. This is a prayer of petition since the way of the world is powerful and can certainly break the unity, community, and the family bonds that are fostered in love. In receiving the Word of God and the gift of relationship we inevitably find ourselves at odds with a world that may hate us, as it first hated Jesus. In the world, Jesus tells us, we will have trouble, but despite this we remain committed and united in Christ since this is the visible manifestation of our sharing in the divine communion. 

Our second reading from Peter reminds us that if we have trouble or suffer for our faith we do so in divine communion, since we are partaking in and are united to Christ’s suffering – joined to him, and not somehow suffering as one separated or alone. Though difficult or even terrible it is a participation in Christ’s cross and through this we are blessed since by this we believe we shall see the good things of the Lord in the land of the living. Our refuge is the Lord, and we desire to dwell in His house.

We know a little of Christ’s suffering and our part when we had, what can only be described as a significant and harrowing moment, as the largest satanic gathering every held took place at the Marriott hotel in Boston. Prudently the Archdiocese determined the appropriate response was one of prayer, at monasteries, convents, shrines, and churches. Here in Arlington, we gathered at St. Camillus for Eucharistic Adoration, prayer, and reflection. This was our upper room where we devoted ourselves with one accord to prayer and worship. It was a truly beautiful time of prayer in our community after which so many spoke positively of the experience and with smiles on their faces. Who would have thought that such a moment of trepidation and concern would have produced such blessing and peace. With Jesus with us, and the Holy Spirit guiding us, we would know God’s powerful and quiet presence and would experience something of his glory.

As community and as individuals we are to grow as people of prayer. Jesus continues to pray for the Church and for his disciples, and we are to do likewise. The world needs us, to continue to reflect God’s glory – the fullness of His presence. The world needs us, to be able to see that there is a radical way to live that is rich in purpose, strong in resilience, united in family, one in community, driven by love and selflessness. They need to learn what fear of the Lord means when we speak of it, and yet how deeply personal and profoundly relational our prayer life can be. By our example those broken by the world are given hope and a way forward. As Pope Francis has told us, we are a field hospital of aching and broken souls. I fear there will be only more souls broken, yet you and I have been placed in the here and now to be God’s field medics. We are to pray for and support our church and be ready to respond to the needs of those around us. We pray as community in the upper room, and individually and quietly on our own, as Jesus has taught us. This week, and as we prepare to welcome the Holy Spirit as at Pentecost, let us remain in prayer, glorifying God, offering any suffering and sacrifices, and asking for guidance on how to accomplish the work God has given each of us to do in this time and in this place.

Deacon Peter, St., Agnes Parish, Arlington, Massachusetts
May 27, 2023

Acts 1:12-14; Psalm 27:1-2, 4, 7, 8b; 1 Peter 4:13-16; John 17:1-11a

A - Third Sunday of Easter

The Road to Emmaus

Cleopas and his companion are leaving Jerusalem after the disastrous end to the onetime Jesus movement. Jesus had been a prophet of mighty word and deed, the one, they had thought, to redeem Israel, the one, they had hoped, would set them free. But a few powerful men were able to end all of that. Jesus had now been dead for three days - the time, in Jewish understanding, when a soul passes from this life to the next. Jesus was truly dead. For Cleopas and his companion, it was time to return to normal life.

Journeying from Jerusalem the two companions would travel steadily downhill as evening approached. As they walked the Risen Lord drew near to them, somehow unrecognizable, and asked about their conversation. They spoke of their dashed hopes and recounted the astounding story told by the woman, about the empty tomb and the vision of angels. But a lack of faith made this story fantastical and unbelievable. No, Jesus was dead, and these stories were just a flight of fancy. There was no reason for hope.

“Oh, how foolish you are”, Jesus says. Oh, how foolish we are. Slow of heart to believe all that the prophets spoke. From the beginning of time itself the plan of salvation would demand that Christ would take the burden of sin upon himself, would suffer, die, and having been resurrected, would enter his Glory. This moment was, and is, the very pinnacle of history from which all points of time come streaming, as if rays of light from the very heart of God himself. Jesus would go on to explain to the two disciples how “the Scriptures” point to the mystery of his person. Without Jesus’ help, they could not by themselves make the connection between what happened to Jesus and the writings of the Old Testament. Hearing and now understanding, their hearts would begin to burn – as if the crust formed by their hopelessness and faithlessness cracked and broke away to allow the Holy Spirit to make his presence felt. But this fire, now lite and burning, was yet to be consummated.

This holy consummation begins with the words, “stay with us”. Stay with us, because our hearts know there is yet more. Stay with us, because in your presence we begin to understand that our place in time and space is not random, nor without meaning. Stay with us, because by your Words we begin to comprehend God’s love, and the truth of everlasting life. As a man and woman marry because of the desire to stay with each other, we too wish to stay with the beloved. So, Jesus stays with Cleopas and his companion as requested, but only until they are able to recognize him fully and in a new way. And so it was that in the breaking of the bread that the realization of who their wayfarer friend was came crashing into their awareness. This is Jesus, and then, he vanishes. He vanishes but is not gone, rather he makes himself more present, intimately present, in a way hard to understand but nevertheless no less real. Jesus says, 'you ask me to stay with you. I will not only stay with you, but I will remain in you, and together we will remain in the Father. I will take what you ask of me and do so much more.'

The journey of our life too is one where hopelessness, faithlessness, darkness, can sadden our spirits. Yet Jesus journeys alongside us and can help guide our minds and hearts to a fuller understanding of our place in God’s plan for salvation. Our hearts will burn within us. Having understood, we too say, “stay with us”, and so are shepherded into the mystery of divine profundity and presence, by means of the Holy Eucharist.

The words spoken to the disciples that caused their hearts to burn was the bridge to the mystery of the presence of God in the breaking of bread. From reason and intellectual understanding, the two companions are now brought into the mystery of God, not as observers but as participants. This mystery impels them, as it does us today, to be a living part of the death and resurrection, and new life of Jesus. And it points by necessity to a future when Christ will come again at the end of time. Our participation in the Eucharist is the spiritual marriage of our soul with God at the very height of that singular point in history from which everything flows. This is not a remembrance nor a reenactment but rather we are made present to those very moments of death and resurrection, union, and life.

Our story concludes with the two disciples, now with hope restored, faith reignited, and nourished by the bread of life, immediately setting out for Jerusalem to be reunited with the Apostles. It was dark now, and their journey of seven miles would be uphill and with some risk from robbers and thieves.

As we now prepare to approach the Eucharist let us heed the words of Pope Saint John Paul II and be on guard against our inclination to reduce the Eucharist to our own dimension and ideas, rather let us open ourselves up to the dimension of Mystery, as our companions did on the Road to Emmaus. The same mystery to which we are invited to participate.

Deacon Peter – St., Agnes Parish, Arlington, Massachusetts
April 23rd, 2023

A - Fourth Sunday of Lent

Who is Jesus? This is the question that is asked of us today in our gospel reading, and this is the question that confronts those who appear in the story.   The gospel unfolds as Jesus gives sight to the man born blind.   Jesus tells his disciples that this miracle was for the purpose of making visible the work of God.   But this miraculous healing, rather than bringing all together in joyful celebration, causes divisions to appear.  We see the lackluster reaction of the neighbors who asked a few questions of the now healed beggar and then went on with life untouched by his witness story.  We see the response of the beggar’s fearful parents who would distance themselves from their son who now sees them for the very first time.  And we see how the unbelieving Pharisees would, not just reject the visible and merciful work of God but, accuse Jesus of being a sinner.   Indifference, fear, and outright rejection.  Who is Jesus the gospel asks us?  The neighbors say, we don’t really care.  The parents say, we are too afraid to even consider it.  The Pharisees say, he is a sinner.   And the beggar says, I believe Lord and worships him.   Who is Jesus and where are we in this crowd of witnesses?

Though physically healed the blind man will receive a significantly greater cure as he is also healed of his spiritual blindness.  This does not happen immediately but slowly as the man, grows in faith and confidence, proclaiming Jesus a prophet, then as one sent by God, and finally, as the Son of Man, who he worships.  In the process this beggar, now confident in his sight, is, as they say in England, a little cheeky with the Pharisees, “Do you want to become his disciples, too”, he says in response to their ongoing questions.    He is not afraid of ridicule, and he is not afraid of being turned out of the temple, unlike his parents who deflect the questions of the Pharisees fearing excommunication.  

The blind man’s anointing was the dirt mixed with saliva.  In baptism we too were anointed and so raised from the cold death of sin and darkness and into the light of Jesus Christ.  We hear this in the words of Paul as he writes, "Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead and Christ will give you light” – this light provides the grace for us to discern what pleases God.  In the blind man’s journey to profess Christ as Lord we should see our own journey of faith as we too grow in spiritual confidence.  Gathered today we all know and declare our believe in Jesus Christ and who he is.   Equipped by baptism we journey in faith with the blind man who grew more confident by sharing the faith that he had.  In receiving the light of our faith, we are entrusted to pass it on in word and deed.  Saint Francis tell us to, “Preach the Gospel at all times, and if necessary, use words”, but we also know he was a preacher speaking and sharing the gospel with the rich and those he met along the way.  He was not shy of sharing and proclaiming the good news in word, even to birds and animals we are told.  Today so many are fumbling around in the dark, bumping into things and hurting themselves and others.  Those we meet need to see the example of faith lived out well in each of us - that is true, but they also thirst, sometimes unknowingly, to hear who Jesus is – a healer, a prophet, the very one who gives light to life and without whom one remains truly lost and in the dark.   As situations present themselves, we can reflect the light of Christ.  This might be as simple as saying bless you when previously we said thank you.  Or in being kind to the one who needs to feel that someone cares.  Or if meeting a person critical of the church we can share our own story of healing, or transformation, or spiritual awakening.   We can share our church bulletin and show them how much good is happening in this local catholic church – something to be truly proud of.  

In ways small or big, we reflect the Light of Jesus Christ who is Lord.  As we enter this second half of Lent, we return to God with our whole heart.  We progress step by step, growing closer to Jesus who is our Light, our Hope, our Healer, and our Redeemer.   

Deacon Peter Bujwid, St., Agnes Parish, Arlington, Massachusetts
March 19th, 2023