Walking with Meaning

Not so many years ago, well in the memory of many here, Catholics were people of great processions. We processed in and out of church, we processed around with statues and relics, we processed for Our Lady, St Patrick and St Joseph, and most importantly, we processed for Christ the King, Corpus Christi and Palm Sunday.

Each of these processions spoke loudly to those around us. In former days they told people that we were an oppressed Catholic minority in an Anglo-Saxon Protestant country. In other countries they similarly reinforced cultural, religious and tribal affiliation. They signalled the difference of those who were processing to those around them.

Of all these processions, one remains that is mandated for all Catholics: the Procession of Palms on Passion Sunday.  We who processed into this Cathedral are different. We have entered the ritual space that allows us to appreciate the Passion, Death and Resurrection of Our Lord in context. The week ahead is our week, the Great Week, crowned by the three days of the Paschal Triduum. The reason that we have entered this Cathedral carrying a palm frond is that we are part of this drama, part of this historical reality. Jesus entered Jerusalem with fear and trepidation, concerned about the future and not duped by the false adulation of the crowd.  The way to Jerusalem had not been easy, and the way of the cross was almost too much to bear. He invites us to accompany him along this road this week.

We have the choice, as we always do, to walk with Christ. By the palms we hold we have already signalled our intention to move into this ritual space, not to be carried by the cry of the crowd, but instead be quietly present with Jesus. As Jesus stood beside Pilate and his silence is deafening. The scene asks us for our answer, not just our feeling, but our hard and fast answer.

This week is one for few words, much contemplation and some action.

Enter the ritual space, enter the quiet, listen to God’s call and accept the invitation to walk this great week beside your Lord and Saviour. 

It is only by entering into this space that we are able to live the resurrection. 

Homily, Passion Sunday 17^th April 2011, OLQP

Jesus Wept

Jesus has visited his friend Lazarus and in his humanity is distraught at his death. The shortest verse in the scriptures puts it succinctly: Jesus wept.  In all his preaching teaching and leading he has been unable to prevent the death of his close friend. It is no wonder that he stayed in Jerusalem for two days after he heard that Lazarus was ill. He had a premonition, not only of Lazarus’ death, but of his own. In weeping Jesus was not only coming to terms with his friend’s death, but with the inevitability of his own, and this is what provides the transformative power to this scene.

Jesus claims the power of God to be brought to bear on this situation and his Father listens to his prayer.  Lazarus, who believed in the resurrection from the dead on the last day, is raised to life. In this action Jesus provides his last and ultimate sign. Death is conquered!

For the last few days the words of one of the Holy Sonnets composed by the English metaphysical poet John Donne have been in my mind. They speak directly to this Gospel:

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.

After all the preaching, witness and teaching of Jesus, his life is fast coming to its zenith. He has invited his disciples to join his liberating journey towards new life. He uses Lazarus as his last and most poignant sign of this journey. Lazarus was raised to life again and died again sometime afterwards. He did, however, experience the liberating presence of Jesus. He believed and this faith led him to be free.

On the cusp of Holy Week, Jesus offers us the same freedom. As he called Lazarus out of his tomb, he calls us out of our tombs. He calls us to leave behind the deathly parts of our lives and accept the new life he offers. Leaving behind the deathly parts of our lives is a constant challenge, so as we enter the final week of Lent we are presented the chance to commit ourselves again to God, to take advantage of the Sacrament of Reconciliation, to align ourselves with the new life Jesus promises us, the life we will celebrate at Easter.

Lazarus, surrounded by those he loved, returned to this life and was confirmed in his desire to live the new and eternal life promised by Jesus. His sisters were asked by Jesus to confirm their faith. ‘Just as Jesus asked Martha if she believes that he is the "resurrection and the life," Jesus addresses to each of us this same question that in fact exceeds our ability to understand. Jesus asks us to trust him, as he has been entrusted to the Father. And despite our doubts and our darkness, we are invited to follow Martha's example and say to Jesus, "We believe in you, because you have the words of eternal life. We believe in you, we hope in the gift of life after life, an authentic and full life in your kingdom of light and peace.[i]"’

We all need to grow and change. Remember Martha when she appears earlier in the Gospel. She was admonished by Jesus for worrying and fretting about too many things. Here we see her calm and focussed: a model of growth in faith and wisdom. It is worth remembering that the church has a feast of St Martha, but not of Mary and Lazarus. Martha is the one who grew the most.  This chance is offered to us as well, and we live safe in the knowledge that our saviour Jesus Christ has defeated death of the soul and given us the words of his everlasting life.

Homily 5^th Sunday of Lent, 10^th April 2011, Year A OLQP

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[i]Reflection by Benedict XVI, March 9 2008

The Light of the Blind Man

I was alongside a friend born and raised in the desert.  He kept looking down at the ground as we walked along, so in my ignorance I said to him: Why do you always look down? You have to look up and see the world, not be ashamed and look down. He retorted immediately: And what can you see? Nothing, only blue sky, that’s it. If you knew and looked down you would see the tracks of all the people who have been at your camp while we were away. You could see the country.  In my superior fashion I had been blind and tried to force my own blinkered vision onto my mate. It was obvious that I would blunder along and learn nothing. I needed to learn from my friend.

Samuel came looking for God's chosen, whom he assumed would be strong, mature and wise. He almost chose the wrong one. Only when he stopped to listen to God did he discover the one whom God had chosen.  He found David, slight, immature and young. This was the one chosen to be the leader of his people.

The lesson here for us is clear. We are all people of faith, committed to following God and building the kingdom. But how central is God to our decision making process? Do we seek the truth or just the bits that agree with our present desires or situation?

The story of the man born blind provides us with some challenges. The first one is: Who is responsible for his blindness, him or his parents? This is the same craziness as blaming God for the tsunami in Japan or the flood in Warmun.  Jesus wants to make it clear that this is not our God. Unfortunately there is enough punishment, enough terror, enough pain in this world that comes directly from us, the people created by God and endowed with freewill. The God of love does not punish people. God does not stand idly by and watch us suffer; instead giving us hope and reason for existence. The second crazy claim is: How can a sinner produce signs like this? The God of Jesus Christ is not vengeful. God gives us scope to escape our negative blindness, to be able to overcome the obstacles that nature or other people place in our path. Our God shines through others, believers and unbelievers. The difference is that we believers know the reason for our hope, the reason for our lives. In this we are different to those who have no faith, whose lives are mapped by fatalism.

The man born blind, with the help of Jesus, was able not only to recover his sight but also to be a beacon for others to the light. Those who surrounded this man were in the dark, where they did not want the light of knowledge to illuminate the dark. The blind man’s life was subject to a burst of light and joy that went far beyond him. He was able to see the same things as the others but through a different lens: that of faith, joy and hope.  St Paul reminds the Ephesians: try to discover what the Lord wants of you, having nothing to do with the futile works of darkness.

We can stay blinkered or blind, being led by opinions or trying to make God’s word fit in with our own beliefs, just like the Pharisees, or we can follow the urging of St Paul and : Wake from your sleep, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine in you.

Homily 3rd April 2011 Lent 4 Year A OLQP

Following the Samaritan Woman

We all have private parts of our lives which we would rather not have broadcast. These might details of present or past behaviour or relationships, misdemeanours or just embarrassing times and events. It is not that these details are hidden from everyone; it is just that it is not the right of all others to know everything about us. We like to reserve parts of our lives for those closest to us, or those whom we trust and want to share them when the time is ready. We do this because not everyone is worthy of our trust. As we age the list of both those who are worthy of trust and those who are not grows longer. To those who are worthy of trust we continue to share deeply and accept their wisdom. This is the preferred way of growing in relationship with others. Incidentally, it is one of the great reasons that confession is individual and secret, not public and published. It is reasonable to assume that the woman at the well lived with the same assumptions, so imagine if a stranger came up to you and revealed the hidden parts of your life.

Jesus arrives at the well and can see that something is amiss. In desert climates the only people who draw water in the middle of the day are those who want to avoid others. Obviously this woman wishes to avoid others. She is confronted by Jesus, a complete stranger and from her traditional enemies, the Jews, who is able to tell her a large part of her story without denigrating her. He showed her respect and dignity. When confronted with this, she has the option of withdrawing into herself or seeing in this kindly prophet as a possibility of growth. Jesus tells her part of her own difficult story and she chooses growth; far from being ashamed, horrified or angry, the woman is excited and becomes a prophet for her people. The man who knows all about her dies not judge, but offers her this thing called living water.

In the Western Desert, living water is spring water that comes from the depths of the earth.  People travel great distances to obtain this water, since it is reputed to have unique qualities, bringing life, healing, health and happiness. Interestingly, desert people go to great lengths to have living water used at baptisms. The analogy is the same as in the Gospel. This living water is the word of God, accepted joyfully by the Samaritan woman and offered to us all day after day. This living water, this revelation of God to us is not something to fear. The coming into our lives of someone who accepts us as we are and who we are celebrates this and urges us on to greater things is a person to hold on to and follow.

If we try to go through life entirely on our own resources, we will eventually thirst, like Israelites in the desert, as anger, frustration and torment take their toll. Moses offered the people water, and people became thirsty again. Jesus offered the Samaritan Woman his spirit and assured her that this was the way to avoid the pitfalls of life in the future. St Paul, in his Letter to the Romans, reminds us that Jesus gives us this gift without receiving our answer. His death on the Cross was given freely for all people, while we were still sinners. Our task is to use and live this gift. Paul tells us that this hope is not deceptive, because the love of God has been poured into our hearts buy the Holy Spirit which has been given to us.

We can listen to this voice and grow in faith, continuing to allow our loving God into our life, or we can harden our hearts like the Israelites did at Meriba and Massah. One way leads to life, the other to stagnation and death. This Lent the Samaritan Woman leads us to open our hearts and lives to the living water of Christ’s Spirit.

Homily, 27th March 2011, 3rd Sunday in Lent, Year A, OLQP.

Journeys of Life

We hear so often that life is a journey. Somebody said that to me the other day, again. When people say that around me I am tempted to say: So do you know where its starts, ends and where on earth we are now?

This year and particularly this week week our TV screens have been full of death, which admittedly, is a big part of that journey. As we see the nuclear disaster in Japan and the human carnage in Libya, our hearts go out to those affected by human tragedy. On the local front we have seen the community of Warmun literally washed away, thankfully after its people were evacuated, which is only the most recent of a steady stream of natural disasters affecting our country. Just this morning I was texted a photos of water lapping at homes in Noonkanbah and Fitzroy Crossing. On a very local level, our town of Broome last night saw the end of the earthly journey for Elizabeth Puertollano, a giant of our parish.

So what does this all mean? Where does this journey start and end? We are not alone in asking these questions. Our scripture shows us that it is a necessary part of humanity, as is discovering the answer.

When Abraham journeyed with Isaac, neither knew the destination nor the reason, but they both trusted in God. They had to travel far and hard, physically, spiritually and mentally. Abraham threw in his lot with God and followed, not understanding the purpose. He was rewarded with descendants as many as the stars of the heavens.

Peter, James and John were chosen by Jesus to journey to Mount Tabor. They didn’t know the destination or the purpose. They went because they trusted Jesus to lead them to God. They journey led them up a steep and dangerous mountain.

Abraham’s eyes were opened when he saw God’s purpose. The apostles eyes were opened when they saw Jesus’ purpose. For both their trust was well placed. The journeys were neither an isolated one, nor was it pointless.  Abraham’s trust gave birth to a nation planted in faith and trust. Jesus’ journey allowed his apostles to see that Jesus was not a one man band. Even he who was the son of God followed the footsteps of Abraham, Moses and Elijah. Abraham was their father in faith, Moses received the law and Elijah the great prophet. The apostles saw that Jesus was indeed planted in solid faith.

We follow in the footsteps of Abraham, Moses, Elijah and Jesus. We are on the solid ground of faith in our journey. This journey does not end on earth, but continues through death to new life. Last night Elizabeth Puertollano began the next stage of her journey. Among the many gifts she left to her family and this parish is that of complete trust on God. She knew her God and the journey on which he called her. In her time of decline she made sure everyone, family and friends, knew the priorities of her long life: God, family, and faith.

In our journey we remember that we are people who know the end, we know our destination. We know that we travel with the wisdom and prayer of our ancestors in faith. Lent is our opportunity to focus so that we can see the big picture, so that we can appreciate the journey. On the shoulders of these giants that have gone before us in faith, we recognise Jesus as the presence of God among us, and listen to him and are able to move forward. 

Homily 21st March 2011, Third Sunday of Lent A, OLQP Broome

No Lazy Ways To Remain True

When I first came to Broome, I often used to go down to the Roey beer garden on a Friday night where Scrap Metal, the precursor to the Pigram Brothers, used to play. One of their songs used to get me into a really reflective mood, and it still does. The refrain goes:

If you find a lazy way to remain true

To everything you through so right and so good

Don’t want to know

Don’t want to share your narrow dreaming

Howling at the Moon

This song has always spoken to me of Lent, of choosing again the narrow path, recognising the reality of our lives and the fact that there are no short cuts to a life of integrity, no free ride.

Today we are presented with Jesus being tempted by the Devil. The Devil promises him everything, and promises that it will all be so easy. That is the same temptation that comes to us, that we can get something that we are not entitled to without repercussions, that there are no consequences to our actions.   Jesus is wise to that one. You don’t have to be Einstein to realise that if something looks too good to be true, it usually is!

The Temptations of Jesus remind us of our priorities in Lent. He is tempted to rely on himself rather than God.  Jesus’ answer is to turn to prayer, to every word that comes from the mouth of God. He is tempted to power and control, and he chooses not to out God to the test. We do the same when we stick close to the teaching of the Church and not to invent our own teaching, ignore or twist divine teaching to suit our own ends. The last temptation is that of who is our God, the first commandment. Jesus answers by telling the Devil to leave. We do it by examining our lives and honestly answering whether God is important in my life by the amount of my time that I devote to God and the work of God. Examining Jesus’ answers and ours can sometimes give us some unwanted answers!

Lent is our time of saying loudly and clearly that there are no easy ways, no short cuts, but that the hard slog is not done alone. In this season we nurture our spiritual lives together, as the Church. At times we can and should fast, pray and give by ourselves but Lent is our time of doing it together.  The other day I asked someone why they went to Zumba classes. They answered that they knew it was good for them and found it hard, but it was much easier in a group that encouraged each other. It is the same with us, except that we not only have each other, but the Holy Spirit to guide and strengthen us as well.

The first reading assures us that temptation has been around since Adam was a boy, so we can be sure that temptation will come our way.

Lent is our time to nurture our spirits by being aware of whom we are, of the dignity God has given us, the integrity to which he has called us, and the gifts God wants us to share. 

There are no lazy ways to remain true.

First Sunday of Lent, Year A, 13th March 2011.

Rock of Faith or Sand of Relativism

In 1932, eighty years ago, Aldous Huxley, in the futuristic novel Brave New World, wrote that falsification would be the decisive element of modernity[i]. In other words, truth would not matter, and what was true for one could be false for another. In a democracy, this must lead to the opinion of the majority and in other systems the pronouncements of a ruling person, party or junta holding the ethical standard. Pope Benedict calls this a dictatorship of relativism. When the search for truth abates or dies, the opinion of the majority or the ruler is called upon for the most important decisions of life. Thus we in Australia find ourselves in a society where the decision to euthanase the vulnerable, the very young or old, the sick and frail, is likely to be decided by a parliamentary vote rather than being enshrined as a human right. The Holy Father, who lived through Nazism, knows only too well the dangers that this relativism courts.

Jesus calls us to build our house on firm foundations, on the rock. Pope Benedict is passionate when he talks on this strength that we have as church. As Christians our calling is to discover and live the truth. This presupposes that there is a reality called truth, and that it is worth pursuing. The truth we seek is not something that moves. It is not relative, nor is it affected by how I feel at the time; it is not my opinion. Sometimes this truth is unpalatable and uncomfortable, it may be misunderstood or misrepresented, but it exists. There is truth, divinely placed, and we are called, urged and given to perseverance to continue on the path of uncovering this truth. I our egalitarian society we run the risk, in the cause of making things simple and easy, of reverting to the opinions of relativism.

Christianity is built on the rock of the search of Israel and the Church since Christ for truth. In this quest the church has employed the best philosophy, science and art available, and still does. Mistakes have been made, but the quest has always been clear. The foundations have been solid and have formed the basis of most human rights as we know them today. If we stand on the firm foundation of faith, built on the foundations of those who have gone before us, we will be able to withstand great challenges and threats as individuals and a society.

This will be in stark contradistinction to those whose moral system can change depending on one’s opinion on the day. The relativist house is built on opinion rather that the search for truth, and as such has no foundations.  Thus the house is built on sand, and moves with the tide. This system can only end by crashing.

The search for truth is a lifetime project, and requires enormous amounts of wisdom, patience and understanding. Patience, because the search for truth is slow, requiring study and trust; Understanding, because we will disagree strongly with others on the way, and we need to remember that they too are on the same quest; Wisdom, because truth is to be found in the quiet places of our heart and world, away from the noisy demagogues.

We are offered what can be a blessing or a curse, depending on the decisions we make.  As we stand at the cusp of the season of Lent, may we commit ourselves to the long road of integrity, faith and wisdom which leads us to truth.

Homily, 9th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A, March 6, 2011.

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[i] Benedict XVI Light of the World: A Conversation with Peter Seewald, (San Francisco: Ignatius, 2010), 50.