Category Archives: easter

A Small “Sermon on a Mount”

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by Orlando Hernandez.

This Thursday we observe the Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord. The first reading describes how “as they were looking on, He was lifted up, and a cloud took Him from their sight. While they were looking intently at the sky as He was going, suddenly two men dressed in white garments stood beside them. They said, ‘Men of Galilee, why are you standing there looking at the sky? This Jesus that has been taken up from you into heaven will return in the same way as you have seen Him going into heaven.’ Then they returned to Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is near Jerusalem, a sabbath day’s journey away.” (Acts1: 9-12)

The Gospel of Luke describes this scene like this: “Then He led them as far as Bethany, raised His hands, and blessed them. As He blessed them He parted from them and was taken up to heaven. They did Him homage and then returned to Jerusalem with great joy.” (Lk 24: 50-52)

I was a little troubled when I first read this passage years ago. How could they feel “joy” when they had lost the company of the Beautiful One, risen and glorified? He was “taken up” from them, for how long, centuries?
On December 3, 2011 (it seems like only yesterday!), I was looking out the window of the tour bus as we passed the increasingly populated steep hills of the Judean countryside and we entered a long tunnel. As we emerged into the light, the panorama of the city of Jerusalem lay before us, the golden Dome of the Rock, at its center, the huge, crenelated Turkish wall surrounding the ancient city where our Lord died and resurrected. It was overwhelming. Our guide, Fr. Vasko O.F.M., called our attention to the Mount of Olives on our right, and at the top of the crowded hillside, pointed to a chapel-like structure, perhaps a minaret, which he called “ the place of the Ascension”. I suddenly broke into tears, and foolishly, like a child, I asked within my mind, “Why did You have to go back and leave us, dear God? Why did You leave us like this?” I gazed at the vast mass of humanity of this city, torn by war, destruction, bloodshed and prejudice for some two thousand years! I felt tiny before such a terrible, formidable story.

The next day, the bus took us up through impossibly narrow winding streets to the top of the Mount of Olives, in the Palestinian neighborhood where Bethany used to be. We got off at a dusty, neglected plot where a single, very old-looking domed structure stood, the Chapel of the Ascension. Fr. Vasko told us that a huge Crusader church stood there once. I wondered why the later Muslim rulers decided to let this chapel stand after destroying everything else. Perhaps the answer was inside. Within the empty structure there was nothing but a flat rock with what seemed to be a footprint implanted on it. It was said to be from Jesus’ foot, just as He started to rise into heaven! Fr. Vasco opened the Bible and read passages from the Ascension story. I felt disturbed by it all.

We wound our way down “ the mount called Olivet” past the vast Jewish cemeteries facing the Old City on the other side of the Kidron Valley until we stopped in front of the church Dominus Flevit for a rest stop on the way to the Garden of Gethsemane. My wife and I had been walking with our new found friend, Fr. Bill Kalin, making sure he was safe negotiating the cobblestones. He was an elderly man and his legs were going. But a benefactor had paid for his tour to Israel, and he could not pass it up. He was living in a retirement home near Lincoln, Nebraska,his home state, and he was not too happy about it. He loved talking with my wife and I because it gave him a chance to review his Spanish.This man had spent the last twenty years of his life as a missionary in the garbage dumps somewhere in Venezuela, ministering to the people that actually lived there. All the folks in our group had fallen in love with him. We would all take turns helping him out.

From the place where Jesus wept as He faced the Holy City, I dared to ask Fr. Bill why Jesus had “returned” to heaven and left us without Him. He graciously gave us one of those mini-homilies that he would share with us at different points in our pilgrimage. Most of you readers are probably acquainted with the points that he made. I just wish that I could convey to you the PRESENCE of this gentle, holy man. His very shining self was part of the message. He told us with a smile on his face, “You all know that He has never really left us. But He had to return to heaven for three reasons.” The first reason was that He WAS God, and He had to return to His fully divine state. He was close to His beloved Abba as a man, but we can only guess at the glory of His divine intimacy in union with His Father.
The second reason was a little harder for us to comprehend. “He returned to heaven to prepare a place for us.” Again, I cannot even imagine what this place, these “many rooms” are like. But He did promise us that . Like a child waiting for Christmas I was filled with joy as I looked into Fr. Bill’s blue eyes.

The final reason was the one that satisfied me the most. Fr. Bill joked about how difficult it would have been to meet Jesus if He had remained on Earth as some kind of king, spiritual leader, or pope. Most of us would not even be able to get a five-minute audience with Him! Instead, thanks to His full access to the Divine, Jesus can send us His Holy Spirit (which I believe with all my heart is actually another revelation of His Very Self!) whenever we pray, and seek Him. He is with us individually, one-on-one all the time! He had to “ascend” in order for this to happen.

Fr. Bill had actually told me something that I already knew deep inside. This intimate communion with God was the force that had brought me on that pilgrimage to the Holy Land. Fr. Kalin’s loving talk had just brought this knowledge to light, a light that healed me in many ways and took away the morose state in which I had found myself that day
.
Years back we sent him a card to his address in Nebraska. He sent us back a beautiful answer. We’ve been out of touch with him for a while. I wonder how he is doing. I think I’m going to write a letter to this man of God who was so influential in my life. Thank You, ever present, beloved Jesus!
Orlando Hernández

Signs and Wonders

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by Orlando Hernandez

On those special times, when in silent meditation, I feel so close to Jesus that I imagine I can hear Him, I often hear Him asking me what He asked the man in Mark’s Gospel, who had come to have His son be cured… “Do you believe?” A little dismayed, all I can answer Him is, “I believe, help my unbelief.”

This Wednesday, we listen to the conclusion of Mark’s Gospel. Before His Ascension, Jesus tells His disciples:
“These signs will accompany those who believe: in my name they will drive out demons, they will speak new languages. They will pick up serpents with their hands, and if they drink any deadly thing, it will not harm them. They will lay hands on the sick and they will recover.” (Mk 16: 17-18)

Last week Fr. Victor wrote about the way that Jesus is still with us through “signs”. These signs can be events that are so filled with spiritual energy that we cannot but feel the presence of the Divine among us. Last Sunday, before Mass with our Charismatic Prayer Group at the Passionist Monastery in Jamaica, Queens, I approached one of our most enthusiastic members. She was sitting with her head down; she was feeling weak and disheartened. Perhaps her malaria had come back that weekend and it was taking a toll on her. She thought it was maybe the medicine. I tried to console her with optimism and confidence: “You’ll see, you’re young and full of faith. Rest and pray. You’ll be fine in no time. And besides, I know that during this prayer meeting so many graces are going to fall upon you, that you won’t know what hit you!” We smiled, but I was worried about her.

The Mass, and the singing and praising that followed were filled with much devotion. I felt so united to everyone else. We even joined in a devotional Jewish-style dance around the altar that was loud and boisterous. At the conclusion of the song, still holding hands, we proceeded to lose ourselves in spontaneous praise, with many of us “speaking in tongues.” We could not stop ourselves. Some of the members of the group placed the young woman at the center and began to pray for her healing, for her release from the “spirit of infirmity”. I was aware of this, so I praised all the more avidly, for I had been told that “the Glory of God is in the praises of His people, and where the Glory of God is, signs and wonders begin to take place.” I felt the power of the Spirit of God fall upon the twenty to thirty people in that circle, the beams of His wild power ricocheting from person to person. It was overwhelming. I just knew that our friend was going to get better, but I also believed that all of us were being healed in different ways, poisonous symptoms dissolving, reptilian evils crushed, sicknesses improving. It was a marvelous experience, and it went on for quite some time. As we were leaving we felt dazed and energized at the same time. The young woman was telling us that she was so much better. Her whole attitude changed.

On the way home I still felt the tingling sensation of the experience. But, for an instant, I wondered if it had all been an episode of “mass hypnosis”, or “group hysteria”. Was it real? Or just our imagination? Can miracles really happen that easily? Where was my faith in the power of prayer, specially in community?

It is comforting to read what the German-American theologian Paul Tillich says: “Doubt isn’t the opposite of faith; it is an element of faith.” In defense of Thomas the Apostle, Msgr. Joseph Calese wrote in the Catholic newspaper The Tablet: “Without the existence of doubt, faith would not be faith, but knowledge. Thomas is not alone in striving for holiness while still wishing for something touchable, something proven….. The motto under the image of Divine Mercy is “Jesus, I trust in You,” an act of faith based more in the heart than in the head. It does not imply that we have all the answers, but simply that our belief in God’s love and power is stronger than our doubt.”

In this Wednesday’s Gospel the Lord did say, “ These signs will accompany those who believe.” Like a little child, all I ask my Heavenly Father is, “Dear Papa, I know that You love me. Please strengthen my faith. Keep our Prayer Group united and strong. And please could I have a little more of that?!”

Orlando Hernández

Sprinkle Them With Water

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water sprinkled

At the Masses I celebrated on Easter Sunday following the homily I cast holy water on the congregation after we renewed our baptismal promises. We renounced Satan and said we believe in God, the Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth, and in Jesus Christ, his son, and in the Holy Spirit, the giver of life. Yes, we believe in God’s church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and life everlasting.

Then, I went through the congregation sprinkling them with water, the sign of life, the sign poured out on us at our baptism. I tried not to leave anyone out.

Of course the church was more full on Easter. Some I knew smiled when I sprinkled them generously with the water. Many I didn’t recognize, and I wondered what they thought of it all. The kids squinted when the water hit their faces. Some devoutly made the sign of the cross, some seemed a little uncomfortable.

Easter’s more than hearing something; it’s believing what we hear. Does the water fall on rock and hard ground as well as on good soil I wondered? God promises to “pour out water” on his people, the scriptures say. It’s a generous gesture God makes. Water, too, makes its way we know. It’s everywhere in God’s creation. We hardly realize how present it is in us; it’s there in every tissue of our bodies. God is there in us all, seen and unseen.

So the rite of the church says: Sprinkle them all with water, and this I did.

Easter Sunday

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Homily below:

https://player.vimeo.com/video/213270123

Holy Saturday

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https://player.vimeo.com/video/213254130

Grieving

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By Orlando Hernández

To many of us Good Friday always feels like a day of mourning. We remember how our beautiful Lord was cut down in the prime of His life. Part of us feels like we lost a true friend, family . Maybe we remember those we lost. How we buried them. How we grieved and yet the world went on as if nothing had happened, business as usual. I remember when I was a kid in Caracas, Venezuela in the 1950’s. On Good Friday the whole city would shut down: government, business, entertainment. The streets seemed empty. There was a silence everywhere. Even the few TV stations and the local movie houses would only show films about the life and the Passion of Christ, which I would find very scary.

And yet today, on Good Friday, in New York, most people are unaware. They are out trying to make a living. Tonight they’ll be out in the bright city at restaurants, clubs, bars, and theaters. So different from the way I feel. This poem, by W.H. Auden (maybe you know it) expresses some of my feelings about Good Friday :

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead,
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My moon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

My soul agrees with the feelings in this poem. But it also disagrees with its message. Love does last forever. Good can come out of suffering and loss. This is a message of the Passion : The Resurrection of life and of love. But I think about those apostles in the darkness of the Upper Room!
Their guilt, their desolation, their grief, their uncertainty. I think of Peter, my friend Peter, remembering his question (my frequent prayer to the Lord): “Master, to whom will we go? Where can we go, when You have the words of Eternal Life?” And now where is that Life?

I can think of so many friends who lost their loved ones in the last few weeks, the despair they feel. And those who feel abandoned in nursing homes, jails, and hospital beds, those who feel unloved by God, who have forgotten how to believe. I am reminded of this excerpt from “The Crucified God”, by Jörgen Monltmann: “Our faith begins at the point where atheists suppose that it must be at an end. Our faith begins with the bleakness and power which is the night of the cross, abandonment, temptation and doubt about every thing that exists! Our faith must be born where it is abandoned by all tangible reality. It must be born out of nothingness.” Only God can do this. And He does.

Again, I think about these apostles in fear and disbelief, at the edge of despair. But I believe that they could not have been totally deaf! Our Lord told them more than once that He would “Rise again”. They had seen His miracles. There must have been some hope against all hope in their hearts as they cowered in that dark Upper Room. Even I, after the benefit of so many graces and instruction, at times like this, I momentarily forget that our Lord Jesus resurrected full of glory, power and love. I truly believe that when you have experienced Jesus in your life, no matter how hard your faith in Him is buffeted by adversity, hope still remains… A hope that is His gift from the cross, which is fueled by His infinite Love.

Dear Lord. By the power of Your Cross awaken in us the certainty of Your Resurrection within our dark, troubled hearts. You live, you live in us. We are not alone. Let us rejoice in your indestructible Love. Give us the confidence to share this joy with others during this Easter season.

The Guide Back

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This Wednesday’s Gospel ( Jn 16: 12-15 ) our Lord continues to tell His disciples about the Holy Spirit.

“ I have much more to tell you, but you cannot bear it now. But when He comes, the Spirit of truth, He will guide you to all truth,. He will not speak on His own, but He will speak what He hears, and will declare to you the things that are coming. He will glorify me, because He will take from what is mine and declare it to you. Everything that the Father has is mine; for this reason I told you that He will take from what is mine and declare it to you.”

Lately I am suffering from a slight disconnect with my intimate friend, Jesus. It’s as if I “ cannot bear “ what He has to tell me. So many outside problems seem to stand in the way of my prayer. Yet I know that Jesus is with me all the time, even when I find myself pushing Him aside. Thank heavens for the word of God. When I read today’s short Gospel as if Jesus is personally talking to me, I am filled with hope and consolation.
Jesus seems to tell me that even though lately our dialogue seems lacking, He is sending His Spirit to help out. First of all the Spirit guides us back to the Truth of God’s love for us. Never mind all the illusory lures and complications of this life, The Spirit enables us to see that God is the ultimate truth, the rock upon which we truly stand.
The Spirit of God will speak, perhaps in a whisper, the advice of a friend, or the song of a sparrow. He will make me hear what is important. He declares what is important to look out for. In His own time the Spirit will even once again let me feel the Glory that is God. He will take this Glory of Jesus, and therefore, of our loving Heavenly Father,and His own,  and show it to me. He will declare it.
All I have to do is find that moment of quiet and simply listen, because, Jesus, no matter what is troubling me, I trust in You. Because You trust in me. You do not give up on me that easily! Your Holy Spirit tells me so.

Orlando Hernández

Walking With The Lord

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In Wednesday’s Gospel(Lk 24: 13-35) we experience the beautiful story of the Easter apparition of the resurrected Jesus to the two downcast disciples, probably fleeing Jerusalem, on the road to Emmaus. They share with the mysterious stranger ( our Lord ) their disappointment with the Passion and death of their Master. Jesus teaches them about the Scriptures in order to make them see why it was ” necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into His glory.”
They urge Him to stay with them and have dinner with them. Here our Lord performs yet another Eucharistic celebration:

” And it happened that, while He was with them at table, He took bread, said the blessing, broke it, and gave it to them. With that their eyes were opened and they recognized Him, but He vanished from their side. Then they said to each other, ‘ Were not our hearts burning within us while He spoke to us on the way and opened the Scriptures to us? ‘ ”

The story of the Road to Emmaus has a powerful, special meaning to me. In the winter of 2012 I went to my first Emmaus retreat, a phenomenon  similar to Cursillo, but with a special focus on this Gospel of Luke.
In the previous year I had seen my wife Berta fall in love with God, during Fr. Vincent Youngberg’s mission in Florida. We finished our RCIA program in Bayside, N. Y. and were able to receive the Sacrament of the Eucharist with God’s whole blessing. That same summer we celebrated the Sacrament of Matrimony after being civilly married for 25 years. That fall we visited the Holy Land, and we were overwhelmed by the anointing experience. We also went to our first retreats at the Passionist Spiritual Center in Jamaica, NY.
I was so full of love for God that my heart felt like a furnace . When I went to Florida to spend the winter I thought there was nothing else left to bring me closer to Jesus.
Then, at St. Matthew’s Church in Hallandale, FL, a smiling man gave me a brochure advertising the ” Emmaus Retreat Experience” coming up in a week. I had no idea what it was about . I knew about the story of Emmaus in the Gospel of Luke, but I did not have a particularly strong feeling towards it. Nevertheless I got this crazy urge to go, and my wife actually said “Yes”.
It was during this weekend retreat that I became a disciple of the Lord, a servant of God.
We were only 20 retreatants, but there must have been about 70 lay people and some priests serving us as cooks, waiters, cleaners, organizers, table companions, musicians, prayer guides, and presenters. They called themselves “Emmaus Brothers”. I could not believe the joy and love that I was seeing all around . These were disciples of Christ, like the ones in the Bible! During the fantastic meals as many as three or four of them would eat with us and share their lives with us. Jesus was sitting there at the table as we would bless the bread and share it in fellowship. The presentations were Scripture-based, and courageous in their sincerity, as they shared their painful redemptive stories with us. There was so much more. The main them was how much God loves us, no matter what we have done in our pasts.
The last night, after a presentation on faith and confidence in God, they blindfolded us and turned out the lights. Carrying flashlights one Brother after another would pick up one of us from our seats and take us on a ” trust walk” to our next culminating experience.
I was freezing in that chair as I waited to be picked up. The air conditioning was just too high. They would take one retreatant after another except me. I felt as if I was being left behind. Perhaps I was not worthy. God had forgotten about me. I was perturbed and afraid.
Then suddenly I heard a young man’s voice saying, ” Have confidence in your Emmaus Brother. Don’t be afraid.” and he held me by the elbow and guided me through the darkness, turning corners, and going down hallways and steps until we were outside. I felt the warm night breeze. There were whispers all around and even fireworks somewhere in the city. Suddenly I felt this great peace. I was sure that Jesus Himself was holding me by the other arm. I felt His closeness. I felt His love. I just knew that He would never leave me.
Many more wonderful, holy things happened which I cannot talk about. All I know is that when the retreat ended our hearts were surely burning. We had all cried and laughed together that weekend. We had become like family, the family of Jesus. Like the two disciples in the Gospel we ran back into our lives to announce to the world that Christ lives ! I knew that I would always serve Him, even unto exhaustion. I joined the Brotherhood under the auspices of St. Joseph’s Parish in North Miami Beach, and served on ten retreats over the next four years in various capacities.
Back in NY, along with my wife Berta, I looked for every opportunity to serve the Kingdom of God. Some wonderful Passionist priests have advised me to slow down a little and ” take it easier “.  I’m not that young.
I keep in touch with my Emmaus Brothers in FL and surely miss them. By the way, when we meet each other somewhere, our greeting and our motto is

“JESUS CHRIST IS RISEN !”
” HE IS RISEN INDEED! ”

Orlando Hernandez