For this week’s homily, please play the video below:
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
A great persecution broke out in Jerusalem after the stoning death of the deacon Stephen, today’s reading from the Acts of the Apostles says. Followers of Jesus, mostly Greek-speaking Jews, were scattered through Judea and Samaria. The apostles– Galileans–seem unaffected by it and remain in Jerusalem.
Persecution leads to new growth, Luke’s account says. The mystery of the cross seems to lead to death, but it brings new life. Individuals experience that mystery, but the church, the world, creation itself, also experience this mystery.
Philip, one of the Hellenic deacons, brings the gospel to the city of Samaria, and “there was great joy in that city.” Philip, a new voice, joins Peter and the other apostles; he preaches the word and “proclaimed the Christ to them.” That’s another theme found in Luke’s writings: new voices proclaim the good news.
Like Jesus, Philip performs signs and wonders. Possessed people are freed; “many paralyzed and crippled people were cured.” Like Jesus, Philip healed people.
The healing ministry is a ministry of the church we may forget or minimize today, but it’s not forgotten in the Acts of the Apostles or the gospels. They’re clear about its importance; it flows from the resurrection of Jesus, who came to raise up our mortal bodies and make them like his own.
In healing, the church reaches out to people in the body, a body that’s fragile from birth till death, a body that needs care and healing. Following Jesus, the church take on a mission to raise up the body, to say it’s valuable no matter how it appears.
Pope Francis defined the church as “ a field hospital,” reaching out to humanity broken in mind and body.
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.
The Gospel of Mark, the first of the gospels to appear in written form, presents Jesus going to death in utter desolation, draining the cup of suffering given him by his Father. His enemies viciously reject him; his disciples mostly betray or desert him. Only a few remain as he goes on his way. His cry from the cross is a cry of faith mingled with deep fear and sorrow: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
This gospel, taut and fast-paced, brings us into the dark mystery of suffering that Jesus faced. We face it too. The Passion is a book that leads to life, a risen life. Our liturgy tells us that today. Like a “well trained tongue” our readings from Isaiah 50,4-7, Philippians 2, 6-11, Psalm 22 and Mark’s Passion narrative call us to hope before the enemy death.
The desolation Jesus faced took many forms, some quite hidden from our eyes and understanding. Yes, the cross brought physical pain, but the gospels, even the gospel of Mark, the darkest of them, do not describe physical sufferings in great detail, as Mel Gibson does in his The Passion of the Christ. The sufferings Jesus endured were primarily spiritual and psychological, all indicated in the cry “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me.”
Paul of the Cross spoke of this to a priest of his community who was experiencing the cross of spiritual desolation. God’s grace would lift him up to bring life to someone else, the saint assured him. The mystery of the cross never ends in death.
“From what you tell me of your soul, I, with the little or no light that God gives me, tell you that the abandonment and desolation, and the rest you mention, are precisely preparing you for greater graces that will help you in the ministry for which his Divine Majesty has destined you either now or at some other time. Of that I have no doubt.” (letter 1217)
Lord,
Speak to all of us today of joy and gladness,
let the bones you have crushed rejoice…
Restore in us the joy of your salvation. Ps. 51
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