Enter The Tomb

Easter Sunday

Acts 10: 34a, 37-43; 1 Corinthians 5: 6b-8; 

John 20: 1-9

The disciples were in a state of confusion. This Jesus that they had followed had been taken from them; handed over, tried & convicted, sentenced to death, hung on a cross between two criminals and executed. They had seen Jesus feed the multitude with only a couple of loaves and some dried fish. They witnessed him driving out demons. With this Jesus, the blind could see, the deaf could hear, the lame could run. But now he was gone and they didn't know what to do. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. Could this really be the end?

Even in their confusion, they recalled his words: “Destroy this temple and in three days I will rebuild it.” What could that mean? They were about to find out.

Early in the morning, on the third day, there was a frantic knock on the door. It was Mary of Magdala. “The stone has been removed and the tomb is empty – come and see.” And so Peter and John raced to the tomb. John was a young man, full of energy and vigor. Peter was probably middle-aged – perhaps with a “spare tire” around his middle. It wasn't a very fair race. John won easily. He stopped at the entrance to the tomb and peered inside. But he could not go in. He was afraid. Presently, Peter arrived and entered the tomb with John following. They saw the burial cloths in a heap on the floor. They saw the wrappings for his head by themselves in the corner. They saw and they believed. They might not have understood completely what was happening, but they saw and believed.

I felt like St. John once. A few years ago my father-in-law got sick and was taken to the hospital. They ran some tests and they found cancer in his lungs and a tumor in his brain. There was nothing that they could do. They treated the tumor with radiation, in the hope that it would slow the growth, but the outcome was clear. He was taken home and made comfortable. There were many visitors – but as the end got close, my visits stopped. I did not want to see him dying. I was afraid. My wife and her siblings stayed with him until the end. But I could not be there.

One morning I was at work and I got the call – he's gone - pick up the boys from school and come over to the house to be with the family. The whole drive over I was petrified. When we parked the car, I stood there on the sidewalk, but I couldn't make myself go inside. My sons, however, had no hesitation. They walked up the steps and inside the door. So I followed. We went back to the bedroom and my father-in-law was in the bed – at peace. We sat in chairs around the bed. We told stories – we sang hymns – we laughed – we cried – it was a precious moment that I will never forget. Later, I managed to find a quiet spot in the house where I could be alone. My wife came and found me – she was concerned that I was having trouble with the situation. I told her that I was OK and just needed some time alone. What I didn't tell her was that I was praying – I was thanking God for this gentle soul. But more than that – I was thanking God for allowing me to witness the glory of the resurrection, right there in that house.

We all have our own demons to face. We all have our fears and our pains. Some are right on the surface, but some we have buried so deep within ourselves that we forget they are there. Perhaps we were humiliated or teased. Maybe we were bullied or victimized. Maybe we were abused. These feelings have caused us to die a little inside. We have buried these feelings and put them into tombs of our own making.

Jesus died on the cross to save us from sin – not just the sins we commit, but also the sins that others have committed against us. We can give that pain and that fear over to Jesus and he will take it all away. That is the glory of the resurrection. But before we can heal – before we can know that joy – we have to visit the tomb. We have to enter the tomb and experience the resurrection firsthand. Only then can we turn death into new life. Only then can we feel the healing embrace of our Risen Savior. Only then can we see and believe.

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer

Easter Sunday

April 24, 2011

Seeing The Glory Of God

4^th Sunday of Lent – Cycle A

1 Samuel 6: 1b, 6-7, 10-13a; Ephesians 5: 8-14; 

John 9: 1-41

 

There is a guided method of prayer that I was taught called Lectio Divina. It basically works like this: You choose a passage from scripture and read it. At the end, you look back and pick out one word, or one phrase that grabbed your attention and you meditate on that word. Sit in thought with it for awhile. Then go back and re-read the entire passage again. As you continue the process, you begin to perceive and understand the scripture on a much deeper level. It can be an eye-opening experience.

I frequently use this method of prayer when I am writing a homily. It usually works quite well. Usually. This week – not so much. Today's gospel story was very long and it was difficult to choose a phrase but I eventually settled on one.

You will recall that at the beginning of the story, the disciples ask Jesus, who had sinned, the blind man or his parents. Jesus answered “neither”, and then he said the phrase that caught my attention: “it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him” WOW. Let me repeat it - “it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him.”

Just imagine – every person since the beginning of time has been created for this purpose. From the unborn child who dies in his mother's womb to the most aged – from the rich and powerful to the poor and sick – every life gives glory to God. Everyone reflects God's love to others. Yes, we are all sinners, but God's glory remains. Nothing can take that glory away. 

 

“It is so that the works of God might be made visible through him.”

The blind man was not a respected man of the community. If anyone noticed him at all, it was to step around him on the way to wherever they were going. But Jesus noticed him. He sent him to wash in the waters of Siloam, reminding us of our own baptism. Jesus not only cured the man's physical affliction, but also awakened in him a faith in Christ. Notice that when he is first asked who healed him, the man replies: “The man called Jesus” did it; later, he says of Jesus, “He is a prophet.” Still later he acknowledges Jesus as the Son of Man. And finally he says simply, “I do believe Lord.” And he worshiped him. This is a synopsis our our growth in faith, growth that takes us a lifetime.

I read a story a few years ago written by a christian minister. It seems that his son and daughter-in-law were going to have their third child. But something went terribly wrong. One of the prenatal tests showed that the child had a severe defect and it was inoperable. The baby would not survive. The minister advised the couple that an abortion would be OK given the circumstances. The daughter-in-law was Catholic and told him that she was having that baby no matter what. Her husband understood his father's argument but chose instead to support his wife. Baby Evan was born and lived his entire lifetime, 43 minutes, in the arms of his family. His brother and sister, both children themselves, held baby Evan's hands and sang to him. Aunts and uncles took turns holding him and talking to him. Many photographs were taken. The minister baptized his grandson. It was a glorious lifetime. Afterward, the minister wrote about the experience, told of the love that was present in that hospital room. He compared himself to the shepherds in the nativity story who were given such a wonderful gift. He felt as if he'd seen the face of God firsthand.

“It is so that the works of God might be made visible through him.”

There are so many opportunities in our daily lives where the glory of God might be made known through us: in line at the checkout counter, in traffic, at work when things go awry – so many chances. I confess that it is hard for me. I get inpatient – in a hurry – sometimes Jesus is the LAST thing that I'm thinking about. But I recognize my shortcomings and I'm trying to change that. Maybe Lectio Divina can help. 

 

So how do we insure that God's glory is made visible through us? By drawing closer to Christ in faith. It begins with baptism but it is a lifelong process of giving our hearts to Christ. An intellectual knowledge of the historical Jesus is not enough. An acknowledgment of Jesus as a prophet, as a teacher, as a role model is not enough. It is only when we are able to say “Jesus is Lord,” and mean it, that we can make that breakthrough. Then the glory of God can shine through for all to see.

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer

4th Sunday of Lent

April 3, 2011