Transitions are nothing new. We are always letting go of something or someone, moving from one relatively comfortable setting to something new and unfamiliar. Even if we never moved away the town of our birth, we experience transition, such as graduation, getting married, starting a new job, having a baby, moving into a new home, coping with an illness, recovering from a stroke, dealing with the death of a loved one or the end of a once cherished relationship. Yes, life is always changing.

Admittedly, transitions are not always easy. We cling to what we know and remain afraid of the unknown. That is why death, for example, frightens so many of us. The loss of someone or something dear to us results in grief, but sometimes that grief can be transformed into joy.

Years ago, I read a charming story entitled Dragon Kite of the Autumn Moon, featuring a young boy named Tad-Tin. He learned that lesson when his grandfather, who made kites for them to fly together, became too ill to make a kite for them to fly in the annual kite day celebration.  Consequently, if he was to participate in the annual event, Tad-Tin had to fly his cherished dragon kite, which his grandfather had made years ago when Tad-Tin was born. Now, traditionally every kite had to be set free at the end of the day so that they would carry all the troubles away with them, but Tad-Tin ached at the thought of letting go of this magnificent dragon kite. He finally garners the courage to let go of the kite, then returns home to discover that his grandfather has fully recovered from his illness.

The ascension of Jesus conveys a similar message of transition. In letting go of the physical Jesus, the disciples felt the same intense loss as Tad-Tin had felt when he first let go of his kite, but later they experienced Jesus’ return in ways they had never anticipated. They soon noticed that Jesus was acting through them empowering them to carry on the mission of proclaiming the Good News. The apostles found themselves becoming, as Jesus had promised they would, his witnesses “in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

This feast does not celebrate the end of Jesus’ presence in the world. Rather, we witness a transition that marks a change in the way Jesus is present in our world. Instead of using his own voice to address people, his own heart to love people, and his own hands to reach out to people, Jesus was now acting through his disciples. He used their voices to proclaim the good news to people, their hearts to love people, and their hands to reach out to people. Two thousand years later, he is using you and me to do the same thing. In other words, Jesus did not go away. He is very real and very much present in our midst, using our voices to address people, our hearts to love people, and our hands to reach out to people.

Another way to understand the lesson of this feast is to imagine that we are participants in a relay race. Just as a baton is passed from one runner to another, Jesus has passed his message of salvation onto the disciples, who in turned passed it onto those who heard them. That baton, our Catholic faith, has been passed on for countless generations. At some point in our lives, the baton of our faith was passed onto us and now Jesus is counting on us to pass this baton on for the sake of future generations.

I would not be one bit surprised if many of you feel powerless when it comes to sharing the good news. Many Catholics do not see themselves as evangelizers. At a loss for words or lacking the confidence to share their convictions, they say little or nothing about their faith. “I don’t discuss my religion with others,” they claim. Keep in mind, however, that actions speak louder than words and if your lives resonate with the values of our Catholic faith, you are indeed passing on the baton. We best pass the baton of faith on by giving witness to what we believe.

At the end of Mass, you are told in so many words, “The Mass is ended, go in peace.” Sometimes, you hear the rest of the line, “to love and serve the Lord.” In effect, you are being sent forth on the same mission given to the apostles, that is, pass on the baton of the gospel. Hopefully, the Mass has nourished and strengthened you spiritually for this mission. The odds are that you will rub shoulders with many others throughout the day who are hungering to hear what you heard. Might sharing your faith leave a positive impression on them? Jesus certainly hopes so!

If you find yourself amongst Catholics who for whatever reason choose not to attend Mass, don’t nag or scold them. Don’t stop loving them or praying for them either! Instead, ask them how they are nurturing their spiritual lives, then invite them to come with you to Mass next weekend when we celebrate Pentecost, the traditional birthday of our church.

In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul is urging us to get on with our mission of being Christian witnesses in this world. He never said being one would be easy. In fact, he suffered in ways we cannot begin to imagine, but he never let up, and neither must we. Like Paul, “I urge you to live in a manner worthy of the call you have received, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another through love, striving to preserve the unity of the spirit through the bond of peace.” Live your faith so that others who may be spiritually hungry can see the value of living the faith as well.  Perhaps, you will make a difference in someone’s life just as someone else made a difference in yours.

As we transition back to our daily routine, ponder what it means to be a Catholic beyond the four walls of this church. Remember, you are the church, so let go of whatever hinders you from fully living and sharing your faith for Jesus is counting on you to do your part in proclaiming the gospel to every creature.
 

Here’s To The Mothers Who Have Touched Our Lives

            In our second reading today from the first letter of Saint John, we read something rather profound. It might have slipped by you as it was read. So let me read it again. John tells us “if our hearts do not condemn us, we have confidence in God and receive from him whatever we ask because we keep his commandments and do what pleases him.” And his commandment, John says, is this: “we should believe in the name of his Son Jesus Christ, and love one another just as he commanded us. Those who keep his commandments remain in him, and he in them…”

            Perhaps the essence of this remarkably powerful statement is simply that God put us on this earth to learn how to love. As the author of life, God asks us to love God and love one another. If we do this, we receive what we need from the Lord. Maybe not always what we want, but always what we need. We learn how to love in two ways. First, through the model of Jesus’ life on earth. Second, through the many people we encounter in this world that try to live that life, utilizing the gifts God gives all of us through the Holy Spirit.

            This rather straightforward but utterly important teaching from St. John applies to all of us, men and women alike. And it seems most appropriate as we honor our mothers today at Mother’s Day.  Recently, my sister-in-law who lives in Shoreline sent Lois and I a picture of five little girls standing hand-in-hand on the shore at the ocean as the waves rolled inward.  My sister-in-law Sharon is a loving and strong woman who is my wife Lois’ both closest sister and friend. She lost her husband a few years ago when he was only 56. The caption at the bottom of the picture says: “Alone they might be washed away, together they stand strong.” Thank you for holding my hand somewhere along the way, when I was facing a wave of my own. I hope you will reach for my hand when your own wave threatens.”

            Our mothers have stood in the way of many waves in our lives. When we were weak, they stood strong. They held our hands when those waves seemed on the verge of washing us away. And perhaps as they grew older, or reached the end of their time on earth, we held their hands as the waves of life ebbed away and the promise of new waves of joy in the next life was just above the horizon.

            Mothers, like fathers, and indeed all of us are called to emulate the Lord of love. For Jesus also calms the storms of life. His word, his sacraments, the model of his service, the perfection of his prayers that he beckons us to emulate are with us always if only we reach for His hand. Jesus in our Gospel according to the same John who wrote the wonderful letter I referred to earlier, tells us that if we remain in Jesus and Jesus’ words remain in us, we will bear much fruit.

            Mothers by definition are very fruitful in a way that resembles the divinity of God. Indeed, mothers, through the miracle of God’s creative power, give us life. Our Gospel this weekend says that the Lord is the vine, and we are the branches. When we are inside our mothers she is the vine, and we are her branches. Before we enter this world, we draw our breath from our mothers, in much the same way that the entire earth came to life through the breath of the Holy Spirit.

            Like men, the creative force given to women builds up the body of Christ much like the work of the early apostles we read about in our first reading from the Acts of the Apostles.  Building up the Body of Christ was not then and is not now easy. For men or for women. And so mothers understand that they will face challenges. There is diversity of life, and also imperfections. Women will see others who are prettier. They will see women who are smarter or had better opportunities to advance. Some women will have a bigger house than others. Some will drive a better car. Their children will not do as well in school as some others will. Somebody else’s husband may be able to fix more things around the house. Or some women will lose their husbands when they see others living in joyful retirement with their spouses.

            But through it all, mothers and fathers alike can learn to accept the unevenness of life even as we work with God’s help to smooth out the worst edges. With God’s loving guidance, and that of our Blessed Mother, mothers and fathers learn to let go. They learn to accept their circumstances when through prayer and discernment they began to realize it is time to fight another day or simply accept what cannot be changed.  This also helps us to recognize that what we have is far more important than what we don’t have.

For the prettiest woman in the world can have a troubled heart. Those who are smart and successful may also not be able to have children. The richest woman may be the loneliest. And as St. Paul reminds us in that famous reading so often read at church when men and women marry, if I do not have love, I have nothing.

            So on this Mother’s Day let us offer a word of thanks to God for to all those mothers who touch us everyday of our lives. And let me say to all mothers present, and for that matter to their families: Love yourself. Love who you are. For God clearly loves you. All of us are too blessed to be stressed. Too anointed to be disappointed. God gives us what we need and what we need above all things is love. For Jesus understood mothers as well, beginning with His own. He understood that what we believe and how we behave is far more important than how the world sees us.  To the world a mother might mean ONE PERSON. But together our mothers remind us that loving God and others means the WORLD.
 

“Good Shepherd Sunday”

Commitment Sunday for the Annual Catholic Appeal 

 In biblical times in the Holy Land, it was common for the shepherd to live with the sheep. The shepherd would lead his sheep to good grazing and water. At night, the animals were led to a safe enclosure, often made of stone or brambles. The shepherd would stand at the opening of the enclosure as the sheep entered, checking for any injured or missing sheep.

Once all were in the safety of the pen, the shepherd would lay down in the opening literally becoming the gate and the protector of the sheep. He was there to protect them from the wolves that would come in the night to snatch one away. The shepherd was their guardian, watching and caring for them, providing for their needs.

The Fourth Sunday of Easter is known as “Good Shepherd Sunday.” In the gospel today, Jesus adds a new characteristic to the image of a shepherd, “The Good Shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.” Jesus, the Good Shepherd, is contrasted with the thief who comes to kill or destroy and the hired hand that runs away when danger comes. Jesus is like the shepherd who owned and cared for his sheep.

Jesus says; “I know my own, and my own know me.”  Familiarity, intimacy, and care are characteristics of the relationship, not like the thief who comes to kill or destroy. The thief takes the life of the sheep. The Good Shepherd gives life on their behalf.

Later in the gospel, Jesus identifies such self-sacrifice as the greatest love that can be shown to others. He then embodies this characteristic of the Good Shepherd as he gives his life on the cross.

What does all this mean for us? Jesus, the Good Shepherd, who cares and loves his sheep, yes-you and me, is calling us to be like him, to shepherd to one another. Must we lay down our lives to do so? Must we physically die? No! Jesus is asking us to die to our old ways, the ways of this world.

In the first reading from the Acts of the Apostles, we heard about Peter and John, held for questioning for proclaiming in Jesus the resurrection of the dead. Peter and John came to the defense of Jesus and made sure that those questioning them heard that they were responsible for Jesus’ crucifixion and that Jesus is the cornerstone upon which the Church is built on.

Imagine if Peter and John were preoccupied with life’s luxuries. Would they have had the wisdom and strength to defend all that was good? Probably not! They left their old ways behind to follow Jesus and to learn from him, the Good Shepherd, so that they could shepherd to others in Jesus’ name.

We need to die to our old ways of greed and envy. We need to die to our pursuit of material possessions that lead us to look the other way when we hear the cry of the poor. We need to die to a pursuit of stature and position that manipulates others. We need to die to our old ways so that we make room to live for and in God’s love. We must die to sin.

That means leaving behind our selfish ways and our need to hold on to things. We cannot be shepherds of God’s love if these things get in our way to the point that we do not share the blessings God has given us.

When I was very young, I had this favorite toy, a stuffed dog that I named Weiner Dog. It was a dachshund. I really loved this toy dog so much, that it almost seemed alive. In no way would I share this stuffed dog with my brothers or sisters or even my friends. It was mine and mine alone.

Did you have a favorite toy, one that gave you a lot of joy and happiness when you played with it? Did you have a toy like the one I had when you were young? You did not deny your brother, sister or friend that same joy and happiness playing with that toy, did you? I hope not. I remember how I felt when I would not let anyone play with mine, not very good!

As adults we run into the same trap as I did when I was young, the same selfish way with our possessions: that new LCD HD TV with 1080 resolution, that cell phone with the screen where you see the person you’re talking with, or it could be something as simple as a family recipe.

In order to be shepherds to one another, we need to leave behind our selfish ways. How can love abide in us if we have the world’s goods and see a brother or sister in need, and yet refuse them help?

How can we be shepherds of this love from God?

Yes, we are called as followers of Jesus, the Good Shepherd, to shepherd to one another. We can shepherd by visiting the sick,   volunteering at our Good Cheer food bank or volunteering for the Red Flyer Reading Program which helps children learn to read. Maybe volunteering at senior services is what you like or volunteering for Hearts and Hammers, which was held this Saturday.

We shepherd by protecting the life of the unborn and speaking out against those who do not dignify life with acts of social injustice.

We contribute to charities that feed starving children abroad and charities that provide those who are in need of life’s basic necessities.

This weekend is also Commitment Sunday for the Annual Catholic Appeal. With our contributions, we can be shepherds to those who are studying to become priests or deacons. Without your past contributions, I might not be standing up here today as your deacon. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

The Annual Catholic Appeal supports programs for the youth of our Archdiocese as well as Catholic schools and the medical and pension plans for our priests. You can see that by contributing to the Appeal we all can be shepherds in our Church in Western Washington.

I hope you took time this past week to consider through prayer your contribution, as Father Rick suggested last Sunday. Our goal this year is $41,266.00. Just imagine what lives you can touch by your generosity.

Through our faith, we are called to be Jesus in a world that so drastically needs him. Are we to run and hide like the hireling, when times get tough or will we protect the life and dignity of those around us? The choice is ours.

My sisters and brothers, every time we come to this sacrificial table to receive Jesus, we bring ourselves, with all our faults, with all our imperfections to offer ourselves to God. We receive Jesus to gain the strength to be the shepherds in this world. This is our mission in a world that needs God’s love and care and we will respond making the right choice.

This is our challenge and our mission and we take on this mission every time we hear the priest or deacon say; “The mass has ended, go in peace to love and serve the Lord,” and we respond in a loud voice; “Thanks be to God.”
 

For us, this is the third Sunday of Easter, but in the Gospel, the setting is still the first Easter evening. We find two disciples recounting what had taken place and how Jesus was made known to them in the breaking of bread. They had encountered the risen Jesus while walking home to Emmaus. They then hurried back seven miles to Jerusalem to share with the other disciples what had happened to them.

As they were speaking, so we are told, Jesus stood in their midst and said, “Peace be with you.” Initially, they were all startled and thought they were seeing a ghost. Who could blame them, in spite of what they had just heard? Wouldn’t you think the same if Jesus appeared here in our midst? They were seeing something no one had ever seen before. This wasn’t anything like what they had seen when Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead.

And if he did stand here, most likely he would ask us the same questions. “Why are you troubled? And why do questions arise in your hearts?” Understandably, their hearts were troubled. Their dream of the messianic kingdom they had perceived during the three years they journeyed with Jesus was now shattered. They were hiding for fear that what happened to Jesus would happen to them. In short, nothing made sense on thzt first Easter, so quite likely, they had many unanswered questions.

Then, like any patient teacher, Jesus once again explained his mission and theirs, putting the pieces together. Luke summarized it by telling his readers that repentance for the forgiveness of sins would be preached in his name to all the nations, beginning from Jerusalem.

The disciples finally got the message as to what manner of kingdom Jesus had been speaking of all along. Not a kingdom to replace the earthly Romans, but a kingdom to make God’s will and love known to others. They heard and responded as we learned in the passage from Acts where we find Peter urging the crowd that had demanded the execution of Jesus to repent and be converted, so that their sins could be wiped away.

Years later, John pleads for his readers to sin no more. He adds that if we do sin, we have an advocate with God, Jesus Christ, the righteous one. John tells us the way to know Jesus is to keep his commandments. “Whoever keeps his word, the love of God is perfected in him.”

Two thousand years later, we are here, serving as witnesses to what Jesus proclaimed to his disciples on that first Easter. Now you might not think of yourself as a witness in that you aren’t inclined to follow the example of the apostles and literally preach a message of repentance to others, yet each time you celebrate the art of forgiveness, that is what you are doing.

History is full of examples of people who have used their own talents and gifts to preach Jesus’ message of repentance. Did you, for example, ever see Steven Speilberg’s haunting film, Schindler’s List? Oskar Schindler, a German war profiteer and black market dealer, devised a scheme to ransom his Jewish workers who had turned his enamel ware factory in Krakow into a gold mine. He then spent his fortune buying the freedom of some 1100 Jews, sparing them from the gas chambers.

When the war ended, his Jews were finally free. They became models of selfless forgiveness. In one unforgettable scene, they literally scrape the gold from one man’s fillings to make a ring for Schindler. Inside the ring were inscribed the words, “Whoever saves one life, saves the world.”

The kingdom of God is about saving the world, one life at a time, each in our own way. With our own deeds and words, we can bring the peace of Christ to others and save the world.

You do this by working with others, by belonging to a church that has as its mission making God’s kingdom real in our world. Our church, from the parish level on up, does countless things from giving comfort to the sick, help to the poor, aid to the homeless, and assisting those seeking to serve the Church in ordained ministry are a few examples of what our Church does.

Next weekend, for example, you will have the opportunity to listen to Larry Jesmer preach his first homily as a newly ordained deacon, a reality that was made possible in part because people like you funded the annual Catholic appeal in the past. Altogether, the annual appeal funds 63 different ministries and programs of the archdiocese through the generous support of parishioners like you through out Western Washington. We are able to carry out the principles of our Catholic mission of preaching, teaching and serving because of your kind response. This appeal provides every Catholic an opportunity to give that helping hand which figuratively and literally saves lives.

Nobody is being asked to give beyond their means, yet if every one gives, our parish goal of $41,266 can be readily met. One reason for the increase over last year’s goal is the need to replenish the priests’ retirement fund.

I encourage you to join me and many other fellow Catholics in supporting the appeal this year. Prayerfully consider in the coming week what you can pledge. Please consider making a gift of a $1 a day, that is, $365, which is less than a latte a day, an affordable gift when paid over a period of time. On behalf of the many who will be touched by your caring and sharing, thank you! I look forward to hearing from every one in the parish.

With our words and deeds, we can make a difference in the lives of others. Like Oskar, we can save the world by saving one life.

A young college student, considered by many to be an intellectual elitist, once announced to some of his friends that he would believe nothing that he could not understand. Another student, who lived on a farm nearby, turned to the intellectual and commented, “As I drove to campus this morning, I passed a field in which some sheep were grazing. Do you believe me?

“Sure,” replied the young man. “Well, not far from the sheep, some calves were chewing on fresh grass,” the student-farmer added. “Do you believe that?”

“Yeah, why not?” the intellectual replied. “Well, not too far down the road, I noticed a gaggle of geese feeding. “Do you still believe me?” asked the student-farmer.

“I guess so,” came the reply. “Well,” added the student-farmer, “the grass that the sheep ate will turn into wool; the grass the calves ate will turn into hair; and the grass that the geese ate will turn into feathers. Do you believe this?”

“Sure I do,” the all too-smart student answered.

“But do you understand it?” “Not really,” the intellectual replied, somewhat puzzled. “You know,” added the student-farmer, “if you live long enough, you will find that there are a great many things you believe without understanding.”

Because he could not understand what was happening before the eyes of the other disciples, doubting Thomas, as we call him, was reluctant to believe what he heard from them about Jesus. Who could blame him for doubting what they had said? Jesus is raised from the dead? But, that is not possible! He died and was buried. “I will never believe it without probing the nail marks in his hands!” Thomas insisted.

A week later, Jesus stands in his presence and he invites Thomas to probe his wounds. “Do not be unbelieving, but believe!” Thomas quickly responded, “My Lord and my God!”

Thomas’ story is important to us because he represents all of us who were not there when Jesus first appeared to the disciples in Galilee on that first Easter evening. Like Thomas, we are confronted with the testimony of the first witnesses who left us word of something that totally changed their lives.  Like Thomas, we want to see the truth firsthand. The whole point of this gospel passage is not that Thomas doubted or obtained the proof he once demanded.  Nothing here tells us that Thomas actually touched Jesus at all. Most likely, he never understood how the unthinkable could have happened. What matters is that he believed in what happened and so can we.

Instead of applauding Thomas for what he believed, we remember him for doubting as though there is something terribly wrong with being doubtful so far as faith is concerned. Yet, faith and doubt go hand in hand much like salt and pepper, night and day, hot and cold, or black and white.

Many of us are uneasy with doubt. If we entertain feelings of doubt, we presume something to be wrong with our faith and begin to have second thoughts.

Doubting, however, is part of being human. Within each of us, there are great areas of doubt, wide swatches of insecurity, and deep wells of bafflement. We may hide them, smother them, or suffocate them, but feelings of doubt can creep up at any moment, as they did for Thomas.

Doubt can hit us anywhere. We sometimes doubt ourselves, our talents, self-worth, our ability to cope with life in general. Perhaps we doubt the choices we have made in life, such as the person we married or the career we pursued.  Or we doubt other people, wondering if they love us or accept us for who we are.

Feelings of doubt can just as readily enter the realm of our faith odyssey. God may sometimes seem so distant, prompting us to question his love or even his existence, especially when our prayers appear to go unanswered. If the thought has ever nagged you that maybe there is no God, then welcome to the club. Faith and doubt can and often do feed off each other. Faith leads to doubt and doubt can create deeper faith. Just remember that another word for doubt is question.

There is no need to fear the process. If anything, we should be concerned if we never questioned, challenged or explored our faith. Unquestioned faith eventually becomes untended faith that in turn becomes nonexistent faith, much like a garden overgrown with weeds.

In his Asian journals, Thomas Merton writes, “Faith means doubt. Faith is not the suppression of doubt. It is the overcoming of doubt, and you overcome doubt by going through it. The man of faith who has never experienced doubt is not a man of faith.” What both Thomas, the apostle, and Thomas Merton discovered is that one must go through the realm of doubt in order to arrive at the certitude that God is very much in our midst, risen from the dead.

Whatever our doubts and hesitations have been, we come today in the hope that we can grow in God’s love, be a community of peace and appropriately respond to the poor.  Our understanding will always be limited, but we can see the proof of our Christian faith and the love that shines from believers who know the power of the risen Lord in their lives. Like doubting Thomas, they have discovered that the faith in Jesus Christ is a journey, not of the mind, but of the heart.