Tag Archives: Resurrection

Sunday Vespers: A Chip off the Old Block

* Pieter Bruegel the Elder, “The Resurrection of Christ”, ca. 1562

Morning Thoughts: Counting Drops

Massimo Stanzione, “Pieta”, (1621-25)

For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

—1 Corinthians 13:12

Nothing.

Some days all we can do is count raindrops. There seems to be little else on the horizon.

“For we walk by faith, not by sight.” (2 Cor. 5:7)

On days such as these, a friend, a family member, a neighbor—perhaps even a stranger—may ask us if anything is wrong.

The answer is short and straightforward: “No, nothing at all.”

Yet, it is precisely that.

“Nothing” is precisely the problem:

The abyss of faith.

It’s hard.

It’s hard to journey in darkness.

It’s hard to swim in a bottomless sea without attempting every once in a while to touch bottom.

It’s also hard not to wonder if there’s something dangerous swimming just below.

But we must resist temptation, no matter its shape or size.

We must keep our eyes on the Island of Hope, with its very distinct Tree of Life, firmly planted, and reaching far above the horizon.

Instead of looking backwards or beneath, we must look to Christ lifted high up upon the Cross.

———

We too must ascend. We too must rise above knowledge, “forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead…” (Phil. 3:13)

And we must never despair. Never.

And why would we? God’s drops of love are everywhere.

Start to count them. Start to count this very day. Count the drops dripping from Christ’s open wounds. His crucified presence abounds; there are so many instances of Christ being put to the test—of Christ being nailed to the Cross—right in front of us, each and every day.

The Crucified Christ we personally discover within our immediate presence, literally within arm’s reach, just may be that same friend, family member, neighbor, or stranger who asked us just a little while ago if anything was wrong.

———

Count your blessings on the outstretched fingers of the Lord.

Order your days according to the Stations of His Cross.

For without the Passion there is no Resurrection.

That’s part and parcel of The Promise:

God became man, so that man may dwell eternally with God.

His promise is everything.

Our doubt is nothing.

And the space in between, the space between His promise and our doubt, is filled with the very real stuff we call “life”— “the nuts and bolts” of daily existence, the building blocks of the Body of Christ—the Kingdom of God.

We just have to continue to walk, in faith, one step at a time. Knowing that we never walk alone.

Christ is always with us. He shares our total existence—in all things but sin—and even that, He got to know well. For the Guiltless One took upon Himself our sins and those of the whole world.

Jesus not only hung upon the Cross, He was yanked on all the while He was up there—the weight of a fallen world ceaselessly pulling down on His spotless hands and feet.

“For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin…” (2 Cor. 5:21)

———

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Jesus held back not a drop. He gave it all. And we in return are offered everything:

Sons and daughters of God. Co-heirs of the Kingdom.

How can we ever repay such a gift?

That’s the point. We can’t.

It’s grace. Pure grace.

Unwarranted mercy, non-merited compassion and forgiveness, unearned love.

———

Grace-filled moments such as these, when we realize just how small we truly are, bring us astonishingly close to the Creator of all—wonderfully close to Him Whom nothing can be compared.

They fill us with hope, the hope of what is to come, the hope of what Christ Himself promises.

In the meantime, let us keep counting raindrops. They too shall soon cease to fall. For one day, even faith will no longer be needed, for we shall see God “face to face.”

Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we shall be has not yet been revealed. We do know that when it is revealed we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.

—1 John 3:2

—Howard Hain

Friday Thoughts: Completion

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Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, which is the church…

—Colossians 1:24

One more day. A few more hours. A couple more minutes.

The joy of wrapping things up. Of finishing strong. Competing well. Seeing things through.

The anticipation of rest. Of a good meal. The best. Of the company of those you love, of those who know you best.

How can there be another round? How can I possibly do one more day?

Questions we ask when we are truly spent.

———

To be in Christ’s Passion is to think that there can’t possibly be more. That this, this very moment, has to be the end.

But Christ continues. So does His Passion.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

—2 Corinthians 12:9

———

He’s sweating blood in the garden. He’s scourged at the pillar. He’s crowned with sharp thorns.

He carries His cross. He’s stripped. He’s nailed.

He hangs for hours, for all passing by to see.

———

But He hangs not alone.

A powerful woman, a tender-hearted disciple, a handful of faithful women, a couple of good law-abiding men, a few soldiers doing their duty, an evolving circle of “innocent” bystanders, and of course, a hoard of mockers. They are all on hand.

Yes, the mockers, they are there for sure. But they don’t stay the entire time. Their shame shows them the door.

The evil spirits, on the other hand, they stay till the end. Taunting. Challenging. Hating Christ’s inevitable victory over death:

“Come off that cross, you coward! Fight like a man!”

———

There are times when laughs and cries sound very much the same. When the heart bursts forth from the valley of death.

“Is he laughing?”

“Is he crying?”

“Has he gone insane?”

Or has he finally finished taking upon Himself all the blame?

———

“It is finished.”

And He bowed His head and gave up His spirit.

—John 19:30

———

And that was just the beginning.

Almost like the first week of school.

Now all of Jesus’ younger siblings get to follow His rule:

Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith,

who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, scorning its shame

and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

—Hebrews 12:2

“And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.”

—Matthew 28:20

—Howard Hain

Morning Thoughts: The Promise of a New Day

Morning Thoughts: Discernment, Day by Day

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Newburyport Meadows Martin Johnson Heade ca. 1876-81

Martin Johnson Heade, “Newburyport Meadows”, (ca. 1876-81) (The Met)

Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we shall go into such and such a town, spend a year there doing business, and make a profit”—you have no idea what your life will be like tomorrow. You are a puff of smoke that appears briefly and then disappears.

—James 4:13-14

Our cross is daily

And so are our decisions

Step by step we carry

Step by step we decide

Our cross may change…its shape, its size

Our decisions, like shadows, mirror the cross

Lengthening, stretching, thinning out—seemingly to even disappear—only to return—heavier, shorter, more compact—practically on top of us

It all depends on the angle and the path of the sun

———

The Sun of Justice

The Son of God

He walked day-by-day

He was conscious of the hour

He knew when His hour was near

He knew when it was time to slip away

He knew

To heal a stranger

To correct a disciple

To teach the crowds

To challenge a scribe

When to stand still

When to be silent

When to turn the other cheek

When to forgive those who hunted Him down

Christ knew the hour of His sorrowful Passion

Christ Jesus knew how to embrace the Word of the Cross

———

The Son of God knew His Father was trustworthy

He knew how to die

He knew how to live

He knew how to love

Day-by-day

Hour-by-hour

Minute-by-minute

Moment-by-moment

Jesus carried His Cross

He made decisions

Only concerned with fulfilling His Father’s will

Walk like Him

Walk with Him

Carry the cross you discover each new day

Give thanks for the blessings that come in the shape of a couple of crisscrossed beams

Make decisions accordingly

Planning to do more is to presume

—to presume to know what cross you’ll need to carry a few moments from now—

Doing any less is to put the cross gently laid upon your shoulder down

But for you who fear my name, the sun of justice

will arise with healing in its wings;

And you will go out leaping like calves from the stall…

—Malachi 3:20

—Howard Hain

Morning Thoughts: Stench of the Cross

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Rembrandt Begger Seated on a Bank (1630)

Rembrandt, “Beggar Seated on a Bank”, (1630)

For we are to God the sweet aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing...

—2 Corinthians 2:15

We see so many images of Christ Crucified. Museums and churches are full of them. And they should be. It is the greatest paradox ever told.

And to go along with the abundance of visual representations, there are of course also many artworks in written form depicting the Passion of Jesus Christ. Shelf after shelf can be filled with books containing the seemingly endless repertoire of poems, plays, and musical compositions based on the subject.

But none can capture the stench of death.

Smell moves us like no other sense.

It is so powerful. So quick. So nauseating.

Think of that the next time you’re riding the subway on your way to a museum. Think of that when a homeless man enters your subway car. Think of that when you’re tempted to switch trains at the next stop due to the stench.

Breathe deep instead.

Think of the stench. Think of that poor man—that poor sorrowful man dying right in front of you. The stench of rotting flesh. The stench of death.

No artwork that you’re on your way to see will bring Jesus and His Cross more to life.

Take a deep breath, and pray. You’re on holy ground.

Pray for yourself. Pray for the man. Pray for all those on board. Pray for the entire world.

Pray that that particular stench, that stench of death, right then and there, brings life.

That it brings life to hardened hearts.

That it brings life to senses numbed to the utter poverty of human suffering—suffering that manifests itself in oh so many ways.

That it brings life to what the world says can’t and shouldn’t be redeemed.

And give that gentleman a few bucks.

———

The Metropolitan Museum of Art recommends an entrance fee of twenty-five dollars. Do you know how much consolation that poor suffering Christ riding right next to you would receive if you gave him that much?

Do you know how cheap a price that is to pay to be able to get so close to a living breathing masterpiece of sacrificial life?

Dig in deep. Dig into your pockets. Dig deep into the reserves of your heart.

You will be amazed how such a prayer, such an act of compassion, such a “living faith”, will transform the stench of death into the aroma of life.

Breathe deep. Pick up your cross. Die daily.

Get over yourself.

What a breath of fresh air!

Now that’s truly an entrance fee.

And it’s worth every drop.

Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.

—John 12:3

—Howard Hain

Friday Thoughts: You Dirty Rat

My Peace I Leave You

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The gospel readings for the remainder of the Easter season are from the Farewell Discourse of Jesus from John’s gospel. (Chapters 13-17) At Passover, Jesus’ hour arrives when “he had to pass from this world to his Father.” (John 13,1) The mystery of his death and resurrection is here.

At his announcement, uncertainty and questions disturb his disciples. They’ve known and loved him intimately; now he tells them he’s leaving, for awhile, and they will no longer see him, for awhile. They seem to hear only the word “death.” During the farewell discourse, the disciples, like Mary Magdalene in the garden, try to cling to him. “Do not cling to me. I have not ascended to my father and your father, to my God and your God.”

They’ll be living in the “in-between-time.” They wont see him again as they’ve known him physically; nor will they see him in glory, unless it’s the glory reflected from his cross. Jesus promises not to leave them orphans, but he won’t be with them as he was with them before in the flesh. He will be with them as God is with them.

The “in-between-time” is the time of the Paraclete, the Spirit of truth, who will teach them all things. Jesus too will be present, but in sacramental signs and words and deeds they remember.

The “in-between-time” is our time too. Like the disciples, we want to see, to touch, to know more, to have what’s promised us fulfilled. But this is the “in-between-time.”

In today’s gospel, Jesus promises his disciples the gift of peace. He calls it his peace, a particular kind of peace, a believer’s peace, peace for the “in-between-time” when we don’t see yet and the mystery of the cross only hints at glory.

Jesus’ words appear in the prayer we hear before Communion at Mass. “Lord Jesus Christ, you said to your apostles, ‘Peace I leave you, my peace I give you.’ Look not on our sins, but on the faith of your church, and grant her peace and unity in accordance with your will. “

We sin against this peace by cynicism, lack of patience, weak faith– sins of the “in-between-time.” We wish this peace to each other; we pray that God grant us this peace as we receive the Eucharist.

2nd Sunday of Easter (C): The Promise Unfolds

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To listen to today’s homily, please select the audio file below:

Acts 5,12-16 The Jerusalem Church
Revelations 1, 9-11a, 12-13.17-19 The Promise of the Risen Lord
John 20,19-31 Doubting Thomas

The resurrection of Jesus happened centuries ago, but today’s three readings remind us it’s a mystery still unfolding even now. Jesus is the “first fruits,” others must still follow him to share in his life. His resurrection gave birth to a church, which must still reach out to a doubting humanity symbolized in the apostle Thomas for its growth. All creation is still “groaning” till it reach its completion when God’s kingdom comes.

When Jesus entered Jerusalem to face death, he used the familiar figure of the seed to describe the mystery before him. “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Amen, amen, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit.”

Like the seed the mystery of the resurrection grows to bear much fruit.

Our gospel reading, Jesus appearance to Thomas, reminds us that the Lord still reaches out to a humanity whose faith is imperfect, like Thomas, like Nicodemus, like the crowds whom he feeds with the loaves and the fish in Galilee, like his own disciples at the Last Supper. He still draws into this great mystery people with imperfect faith, slow to believe, like us.

The church he brought into being was a small seed at first in Jerusalem, but it’s spreading its branches throughout the world, despite the thorns and hard ground that resists its growth. And creation itself despite fears about its future is makings its way to a completion beyond what we know now.

The Risen Jesus remains with us . “There is nothing to fear,” he says to his disciple on the Lord’s day, “ I am the First and the Last and the One who lives. Once I was dead, now I live–forever and ever. I hold the keys of death and the nether world. Write down, therefore, whatever you see in visions-what you see now and what you will see in time to come.” (Revelations 1.17-19)

We see him now by faith, in time to come face to face.

Easter Sunday

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To listen to today’s homily, please select the audio file below:

Many followers of Jesus saw him risen after he came from the tomb, the New Testament writers say, but Mary Magdalene’s witness is especially significant. She was a key witness to his death as well as his resurrection. We remember her testimony on Easter Sunday.

First, she was a witness to the death of Jesus. She was among those who saw him die, the gospels say. She witnessed his last excruciating hours on the cross. She saw the soldier pierce his side with a lance. She was with Mary his mother, standing there looking on. She helped them in the grim ritual of taking his body down from the cross. She was one of the women who brought some ointments and cloths for his burial. That was a woman’s role then, to bury the dead. She watched them lay him in a tomb, about a stone’s throw from where he was crucified. There would be no doubt in her mind that Jesus was dead.

She waited till the Jewish feast was over to come to the tomb. She came early in the morning, not hoping to see him alive, but just to complete his burial. What was done when he died was done hurriedly, the gospels tell us. Like Martha, the sister of Lazarus, Mary Magdalene believed in the resurrection on the last day. It was important for her that the body of Jesus be properly anointed with perfumed oil, because he had been someone most pleasing to God. He would certainly be among those God would raise up on the Last Day.

Mary would not be at the tomb alone. Other women would be with her. The question they had coming to the tomb was: Can we get some help moving the stone away from the entrance to the tomb? It was large. Maybe the guards who were stationed there, maybe some workers, some people passing by. The tomb was not far from the road going into the city.

But Mary saw that the stone had been rolled away and the tomb was empty, the burial cloths were there, the cloth that covered his head, but his body was not there. (John 20,1-9) She ran to tell Peter, who came with John and found it as she had said.

In our first reading today we hear Peter’s description of what happened next. “This man God raised on the third day and granted that he be visible, not to all the people, but to us, the witnesses chosen by God in advance, who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead.” (Acts 10, 37)

John’s gospel goes on to tell Mary’s story of her meeting with Jesus in the garden where he was buried. She thought he was the gardener until she heard him speak her name, “Mary.” He was alive. He told her he was going to his Father and her Father, his God and her God. On that dark morning she came to finish burying him. Now he was alive, risen, and the world was changed.

“Tell us, Mary, what did you see on the way?” the church asks her in our liturgy today. “ ’I saw the tomb of the now living Christ. I saw the glory of Christ, now risen. I saw angels who gave witness; the cloths, too, which once covered head and limbs. Christ my hope had indeed arisen. He will go before his own into Galilee.'”

He is risen from the dead, the witnesses say. He died and he rose again. Believe in him, follow him, they tell us. He lives and promises life to those who follow him. He is God’s Son, believe in him.

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The Victor's Place

Some homilies, scattered thoughts, images from the Passionists: : whatever the days bring. Follow me on Twitter @vhoagland.

Tag Archives: Resurrection

Sunday Vespers: A Chip off the Old Block

* Pieter Bruegel the Elder, “The Resurrection of Christ”, ca. 1562

Morning Thoughts: Counting Drops

Friday Thoughts: Completion

Morning Thoughts: The Promise of a New Day

Morning Thoughts: Discernment, Day by Day

Morning Thoughts: Stench of the Cross

Friday Thoughts: You Dirty Rat

My Peace I Leave You

2nd Sunday of Easter (C): The Promise Unfolds

Easter Sunday

* Pieter Bruegel the Elder, “The Resurrection of Christ”, ca. 1562

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