God brings us into His divine Life – Deut 4:32-40, Rom 8:14-17, Matt 28:16-20

Trinity Sunday, Year B (baptisms during Mass) -- Holy Cross parish

“The Lord is God in the heavens above and on the earth below.”  That’s what Moses has to say to his people.  They’ve been rescued by God from slavery in Egypt, they’ve encountered him and received the Law on the mountain, they’ve wandered the wilderness led by him, and now they stop on the plains before crossing the water into the Promised Land, and listen to Moses, who proclaims to them: “The Lord is God in the heavens above and on the earth below.”  And he proclaims it, because it matters.  I think we’re probably on board with God being God in heaven; it’s God on earth we might be disquieted by.  The idea that God, while totally incomparable to any finite, fallible, created thing, enters into our world, acts, concerns Himself intimately with each one of us, with our greatest triumphs, with the most mundane pieces of daily life, and with our sin, our hunger, our weakness and our need… it’s almost too much to bear.  God loved Israel so much he wanted to make them His own, and he loves us the same.  That changes everything, and that’s not always comfortable.  He offers us a mutual binding: he’ll commit to us, and He longs for us to commit to Him.  He’ll lead us, to the Promised Land; that’s an invitation for us: to follow.

God pulls us up by the flame of the Spirit – Acts 2:1-11

Pentecost; Holy Cross Parish.

Fire.  It fascinates us.  It captures our gaze and delights us.  How often do we gaze up in wonder at the stars; those gigantic balls of fire that seem so small to us?  Or did you, like me, feel extra joy these past few days when the sun finally came out?  Or have you ever spent time around a camp fire, or in front of a fire place, fascinated by the flickering?  Fire warms us, it lights up our world, it cooks our food, it fascinates us and attracts our gaze.

God’s love-accepted emboldens us –Mark 16:15-20, Acts 1:1-11

Ascension Sunday, Year B: Holy Cross parish.

I think that the Ascension is the hardest feast of the Church year to preach on.  Not Trinity Sunday, not Good Friday, not a funeral: the Ascension.  And I say that, because it’s the only feast on which the primary action of God, in Christ, that we celebrate seems to be his moving away from us.  We’re on earth, and he ascends: to heaven.  And that’s not the primary movement given to us to proclaim at any other time: the Christian story is consistently one of God reaching out to us, God coming to visit and redeem his people, of us turning away, but of God’s grace eventually conquering our stubbornness and repentance moving us to accept the glorious eternal embrace offered.  Except today: when the movement is of Christ ascending.

God tends to our fruitfulness – John 10:11-18

Fifth Sunday of Easter, Year B; St. Thomas More, Knebworth, UK.

Having been away from England for quite some time now, and only sporadically returning, there are things I forget and have to re-remember every time I come over.  One is quite how much it rains.  The other is more pleasant, and actually a consequence of the first: quite how green it is.  Especially after having just survived a long Indiana winter when it was first white and then various shades of grey and brown, it’s very refreshing to return to so much lush, living natural greenness.

God commits to us – John 10:11-18

Fourth Sunday of Easter, Year B; St. Thomas More parish, Knebworth (UK)

The first assignment I give in my confirmation class, for 13-/ 14-year-olds, is to write a short essay about which virtue they most want to grow in, as they prepare for and receive this sacrament.  I was surprised when a full half of them wrote about courage.  The other half, by the way, were pretty evenly split between faith, hope and love.  The better I get to know 14 year olds, the more I wish they would work on prudence… but, no, courage was the virtue most of them wanted to grow in.  And they knew well what heroic exercises of that virtue look like, but that wasn’t what excited them the most.  They longed to be able to exercise a day-to-day courage, a courage that is gloriously mundane.  They wanted to be able to stand up for what was right when that wasn’t popular, to not go along with the crowd, to dare to confront a friend about something when they feared a hard conversation about something.  And the fear that held them back from doing that, was fear that if they dared stick out, then they wouldn’t belong, wouldn’t be accepted, would be stranded from the flock.

Announcement I made after all Masses this weekend

Some of you may know that I was originally sent here on a two year assignment.  Well, you've all been putting up with me for almost two years now, and our Provincial Superior has announced that my assignment here will not be renewed.  So, I'll be moving on this summer.  I won't be going too far: just a couple of miles up the road to Notre Dame.  I'll be spending next year applying to PhD programs in New Testament, taking some classes to help me prepare and helping out a little on campus.

It's been our discernment for a while that I'm called to serve the Church and the world as a priest through scholarship and teaching.  I asked to begin my ordained life in a parish context, as I thought that would be a wonderful context in which to have priesthood first drawn out of me.  It has been.  I will leave with a lot of gratitude for all that has happened here.  These parish communities will always have a very special place in my heart, and I will continue to hold you all in prayer, and I ask you to do the same for me.

One final note: on Monday, I leave for a couple of weeks vacation.  I don't want you to hear I'm not around and think that I announced my departure and then right away packed my bags!  I'll be back in a couple of weeks, through the end of our parish school year and a little bit beyond, but then I'll move up the road.

Thank you.

Jesus turns fear through peace to love – John 20:19-31, 1 John 5:1-6

3rd Sunday of Easter, Yr B; Holy Cross - St. Stan's.

Our gospel begins with Jesus’ closest disciples having just heard about his appearance on the road to Emmaus.  We don’t really hear what their reaction was.  Maybe they don’t even have time to stop and realize for themselves how they’re reacting, because right then and there, Jesus appears in their midst.  And they’re terrified.  Which means they don’t get it.  Whatever their heads are doing, their hearts are not quite yet ready to receive their Lord; to receive the good news that his love for them, for us, is stronger than death, the good news that he longs to be with us,just as strongly as he longs to be with his heavenly father, so will act to bring us to eternal heavenly life, acting to sanctify us to the point that we can live heavenlily.  It’s the most extravagant, outrageous good news ever.  And it’s no surprise that after the trauma they’ve been through, they’re not ready to receive it.  They react to the coming of their Lord with fear.