The rejected Jesus commits to us – Acts 4:8-12, John 10:11-18

 Fourth Sunday of Ordinary Time, Year B; Breen-Philips Hall.

Press play, and you hear Antonio Cipriani sing in a beautiful yet subdued way, “That I would be good, even if I did nothing.” Then the melody passes to Celia Rose Gooding, who responds, “That I would be good, even if I got the thumbs down.” They continue alternating lines: “That I would be good, even if I got resentful; that I would be good, even if I gained ten pounds.” Lauren Patten then comes in with this plaintiff descant, “why won’t you accept who I need to be?,” as Antonio and Celia keep on alternating, before Lauren takes the melody and turns it up to eleven, coming in and belting out: “I need to know that I would be loved, even if I am my true self; that I would be good, even when I am overwhelmed.”

 

Jesus perfects our love – Luke 24:35-48; 1 John 2:1-5a

 3rd Sunday of Easter, Year B. Breen-Philips Hall.

Jesus, after his resurrection, appears in the midst of his disciples, and they’re terrified. So, Jesus wishes them peace. Not peace in the sense of having no conflict or struggle in their lives. In fact, he’ll soon send them out to witness to him knowing that that will mean martyrdom for most of them. No, Jesus wishes them the kind of peace in their hearts that will allow them to do that. The kind of peace in their hearts that will let them not be terrified to see him.

 

Christ breaks any barrier to be with us – Acts 4:32-35; John 20:19-21

 Sunday in the Octave of Easter, Year B; Breen-Philips Hall

We’ve had so long now of having to think about distance. The 6-foot wingspan touchdown Jesus reminds of one thing we need to do to keep one another safe. Distance, barriers… physical things we need right now, but I wonder if we’ve let them get a hold of parts of our spirits where they really don’t belong. I’m glad that Notre Dame tries to be consistent in its messaging in using the phrase “physical distancing” rather than “social distancing,” because it’s so important that we strive to remain socially connected, throughout this pandemic, throughout our lives. And being socially connected doesn’t just mean superficial interactions, but genuine, vulnerable, intimate friendships. And behind that lies spiritual connectedness. Keeping close to God, and allow our other relationships to feed and deepen that central relationship. Sometimes things that are hard feel too heavy to hold, and so we put up barriers and make distance in our spirits. We don’t let ourselves feel another’s pain, or even our own, we don’t offer that to God, let ourselves be inspired to act.

The resurrection light grows – Acts 10:34-43; 1 Cor 5:6b-8; Mark 16:1-7

 Easter Sunday, Year B. Basilica of the Sacred Heart.

If you’re into setting records, those of you gathered here in the basilica this morning should know that we’ve collectively come in precisely second in one particular competition. That’s the competition to see how few people you can have at an Easter Sunday Mass in this basilica. Now, as the basilica hosts more and more Masses over the course of today, those Masses will equal our numbers and share our silver medals, but there has been no previous Easter Sunday Mass here that has come close to our number. Prior to 2020, of course, every single Easter Sunday Mass here has been full to the rafters (at least, since the basilica has been a basilica). Last year, though, the only people present were Holy Cross priests and brothers who lived on campus, and select campus ministry staff who were exercising some kind of liturgical ministry. Our celebration here is so much bigger than 2020 while still being so much smaller than all that came before, and (we hope and can with some confidence expect) than all that will come from 2022 on.

 

Jesus quenches thirst, ours and his – John 4:5-42, Exod 17:3-7, Rom 5:1-8

 3rd Sunday of Lent (Year A readings); St. Adalbert and St. Casimir parishes

We all know the experience of being thirsty. That tickle in our throat, that as thirst grows worse can become more uncomfortable, and then painful. Maybe it comes with a headache, or with fatigue. Thirst is actually quite hard to describe, because it’s so basic to being alive: being thirsty feels like thirst and we know what that feels like. We also know how good a cool glass of water feels on a hot day. Our first two readings use those feelings we all know so well and name something equally basic to being human: the reality that we are thirsty people and God refreshes us.

Christ offers himself for our embrace – Luke 2:22-40

 Holy Family, Year B; St. Adalbert's and St. Casimir's.

Video (Homily starts at 17:40).

Ordinarily, the times that bring families together are often the happiest times and the saddest times. We gather for weddings, baptisms, graduations, holidays. We gather for funerals, or for crises. More and more these days, of course, we “gather” remotely. What brings us together in these times, what leads us to tolerate imperfect technology, is the conviction that at the most important times in one another’s lives, it’s important for family to support one another and show that support in some real, tangible way. That’s true of the Church as one big family, that’s true of each of our families, that’s true also of the Congregation of Holy Cross, the religious family to which I and Fathers Ryan and Zach belong. And one way we learn to do that is from the Holy Family, Jesus, Mary and Joseph. 

God is with us – Isa 62:1-5; Matt 1:18-25

 Christmas (Vigil Mass); Christ the King parish.

Video (homily begins at 13:30)

Our readings tonight started with a statement of protest. “I will not be silent; I will not keep quiet.” Our lector brought to us the Spirit-inspired proclamation of a prophet who wrote around 2,500 years ago, over 500 years before the birth of Christ, a prophet who refused to sit down and shut up, a prophet whose words were a rebellion against hopelessness and despair, a prophet who had good news to proclaim. You might be thinking, “aren’t we here to talk about the baby Jesus?” Well, we are. But we’re here to talk about the baby Jesus not as someone cute or tame, but as God’s daring proclamation of good news, God’s protest against human despair. And we get to hear what God is saying in the baby Jesus more clearly if we spend a little time first with the words we opened with from the book of the prophet Isaiah.