FR. TOM'S HOMILY FOR THE 6th SUNDAY OF EASTER, May 17, 2020:
We’ve all heard the phrase, “Hindsight is 2020.” It means that sometimes we don’t understand things so clearly as they are happening, but when we have the chance to reflect back on moments and see how they played out, we see things we didn’t see before, make connections we weren’t aware of before; things come into a focus that only comes by being on the other side of an experience. I have great hopes that our hindsight once we are beyond this coronavirus crisis will also be 2020. Right now we are knee-deep in the challenges all around us – when will we go back to work? How will we pay the rent, the bills? Do I still have a job? When will things get back to normal? But, I also have great hopes that when we do return to normal living, our hindsight will make clear some of the things we’ve experienced in these months – how good it is to slow down and be attentive to one another, our families; how over-programmed our lives have become; and so crucially – how precious is the gift of faith, the gift of Church, community, the gift of the sacraments – especially reconciliation and the Eucharist. These things that in our craziness we have taken for granted, or even left behind, perhaps now will receive a renewed zeal, enthusiasm, and deep desire. Let’s pray for that holy clarity on the other side of this.
In our Gospel passages this week and last, we’ve also been engaged in a little bit of hindsight clarity as St. John has been returning us to the Last Supper, giving us a chance to dig deeper into its meaning. We can understand why. After all, at the Last Supper, Jesus and the Twelve are in the Upper Room, gathered for the Passover. Jesus begins to tell them about his coming suffering. He tells them that he will be leaving them to go back to the Father. We can picture the Apostles confusion, and growing sadness. They have staked their lives on Jesus! They have given up everything to follow Him. And now He says that He must go away from them. Their hopes seemed dashed, and so perhaps they weren’t fully hearing what He was saying.
But, Jesus knows their hearts. He knows their fears. Twice during the meal He tells them, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” He repeats it because He knows that their hearts are truly troubled. And then He makes them a promise we heard today, “I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you.” He promises never to abandon His chosen followers. The crucifixion will come, the darkness, the suffering, the persecution, the apparent failure and defeat. But through it all, the Apostles can cling with firm faith to this promise: I will not leave you orphans; I will never abandon you.
What comforting words for us to hear today in the midst of our global crisis. Jesus knows that our hearts too are troubled. He knows that we are filled with fear and confusion, with regret and sorrow in the midst of our own Good Fridays. And He makes the same promise to us: I will not leave you orphans. I will come to you. I will be with you. His Resurrection is the first and definitive step in his fulfillment of this promise. Jesus is faithful. We can count on it.
He proves His faithfulness over and over again. The miracles he performed during his earthly ministry were all signs of this faithfulness. The greatest sign of all was the Resurrection - His definitive victory over sin and suffering, the bedrock of our hope. And, these signs have continued throughout the history of the Church. In the First Reading we heard about the deacon Philip healing crippled people and casting out demons. His miracles brought joy to the whole city, because they showed that the Good News of the Gospel, which Philip was preaching, was more than just wishful thinking. And the miracles have never stopped flowing. Skeptics always try to explain them away, and they aren't the main pillar of our faith, but they still keep happening.
Just think, every year the Pope beatifies and canonizes new saints, events that can only happen when miracles through their intercession confirm the holiness of the saints. Most of us have probably experienced miracles ourselves; sometimes great miracles, more often smaller ones. But, miracles do happen; and continue to serve as reminders of God’s presence and action in our world and in our lives.
In today's Mass, Jesus renews His promise to never abandon us, and we should thank Him for that. Jesus is always with us. He is with us in our hearts, through the gift of the Holy Spirit. He is with us in the Eucharist. He is with us in private prayer. He is with us in Scripture, the revealed Word of God that will always nourish our souls if we read it with faith. He is with us in the Church– He is with us whenever we need him. Jesus has not left us orphans.
But there is a chance that we have made ourselves into orphans. Maybe we look like Christians on the outside, but still haven't really become Christians on the inside. And maybe that's why we feel gnawing frustration or loneliness, anxiety or frustration deep in our souls.
Today, Jesus is giving us another chance. Today, we are given the gift of hindsight, to look back on all that has happened with a new clarity. Today, Jesus issues a new invitation to each of us to let Him take up residence on the throne of our hearts, or, as St Peter said today, to “sanctify Christ as the Lord of our hearts.” There can only be one King in our hearts. Either ourselves, with our weakness and limitations, or Christ, with his infinite wisdom, power, goodness and holiness.
Today, let us once again make Jesus the Lord of our hearts. Let us hear His words today and allow them to speak into our anxiety, frustration, and pain. He says to you and to me, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. I will not leave you orphans. I will come to you.” Let us put our trust in His promises, even when it hurts; let us follow His teaching, even when it is inconvenient and unpopular; let us take up our crosses with Christ, remembering with the gift of hindsight, that our story doesn’t end with the Crucifixion; it leads us all the way to the new life of the Resurrection.
May the Lord give you peace.
Write something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview.