Easter Sunday – The Resurrection of the Lord

The tomb is open and here is your hope: "Seek what is above."

Many will call this escapism. They find hope in the power of smart people and smart ideas. They place their faith in utopian promises of transforming our world into something better, something beautiful. But such dreams, noble as they might be, always end in death and despair. For they are human schemes, and such things always come with the human baggage of greed, arrogance, and brutality.

Which is why our Parent asks us to "think of what is above, not of what is on earth." This is not a call to deny the reality of the culture of death, but an invitation to see that reality for what it truly is. Things we perceive as ugly or futile are actually steps in a grand plan that might take decades or centuries to come to fruition. God always produces what they desire, which is why love always wins.

Yes, accepting this invitation brings great challenges, but not an impossible task. And once you gaze through your Parent's eyes, you will never want to look away. You will come to know that your purpose is not to fix the world, but to weave your small piece in the grand tapestry of life. In short, you will find something wonderful, something that makes every day worthy of rejoicing and being glad.

So once more, here is your hope: "Seek what is above." Will you take it?

Acts 10:34-43; Psalms 118:1-24; Colossians 3:1-4; John 20:1-9

Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe

"Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us." As the Church concludes its Jubilee of Mercy, let us ask ourselves, what sort of mercy do we crave? Are we looking for something in the here and now, as was the first criminal? Or can we see the bigger picture, as did the second one? Of course we should want our siblings to have peace and justice in this life. But we should also recognize that such things are ultimately nothing more than dust in the wind. How many Sauls and Davids have come and gone, yet the world remains a mess. How many wannabe Sauls and Davids will vie for our attention, yet the world will continue to remain a mess. Our Brother did not come here to be a Saul or a David, as much as we wanted him to be. No, our Parent became one of us so that we might see the royal inheritance to which we can rightfully lay claim. And such a treasure is something that no king, president, or even pope can ever hope to produce. So what shall we seek: true mercy or a cheap substitute?

2 Samuel 5:1-3; Psalms 122:1-5; Colossians 1:12-20; Luke 23:35-43

Fifth Sunday of Lent

"Go, and from now on do not sin any more." Do better next time. That is mercy. No hand wringing and reluctant pardons. No pretending that sin is not sin. Just the expectation that we are "straining forward to what lies ahead." Yes, our Parent does wonderful things for us. They allow us umpteen chances to do right by love and truth. So let us accept their generosity, and spend these dwindling Lenten days in joyful conversation with our hearts and souls about our many opportunities to do better.

Isaiah 43:16-21; Psalms 126:1-6; Philippians 3:8-14; John 8:1-11

Thanksgiving Day

Let us be thankful today for all the moments of our lives, but most especially for those that we dearly wish to forget. The cringe-worthy ones which bring deep shame and solemn regret. The suffering ones that produce tears of hot anger and cold grief. The ones we fantasize about doing over, if we could go back in time. Life is a tapestry, and for better or worse, these experiences are part of the artwork that is you. How many threads could you pull out without unraveling everything you have come to be? We learn from failure and triumph alike. Even sin provides opportunities for hope and salvation.

Now, I am not saying that sin is good or that failure should be courted. But both are part of the human condition and they will inevitably arrive on your doorstep. Do not fear them. Do not fear the truths they will set before you. Shame can help keep you honest. Suffering can show you what matters and what does not. I have had plenty of experience with both and they have taught me wonderful things, though I cannot say that I look forward to future lessons. But I trust that when those lessons come, it will be because our Parent has something valuable to teach me. And I am thankful for such grace.

Sirach 50:22-24; Psalms 145:1-11; 1 Corinthians 1:3-9; Luke 17:11-19

Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

At the beginning of this month, my cousin died of cancer. Nicole was a few months shy of her fortieth birthday. She had prayed for a miraculous healing. It did not come. Two days after her death, the son of a dear friend celebrated his fiftieth birthday. Kevin has lived with major medical problems for almost all of those years. He was not supposed to live past four. But grace has rained down upon him. Why? Why does one survive and one not? How many in the crowd surrounding Jesus hoped for a miracle, a healing, for themselves or a loved one? Why were two rewarded, but not the rest?

Life and death. It all feels so capricious. And that notion is exactly what we need to be rescued from. But like a man struggling not to drown, we must trust the arms of our rescuer first. Are you willing to submit to your Parent's logic? Are you willing to surrender to their control? And what might they show you if you are so willing? After my cousin's death, a group of her friends took charge of all the funeral arrangements, allowing her immediate family to simply grieve. So perhaps Nicole's prayers did not go unanswered. And perhaps Kevin has a new guardian angel. Wishful thinking, or a glimpse into grace? I choose to praise our Master and to believe myself rescued. What will you choose?

Wisdom 1:13-2:24; Psalms 30:2-13; 2 Corinthians 8:7-15; Mark 5:21-43

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

It is easy to be pessimistic about life. Misery and mayhem have never been in short supply. Neither have drudgery, nor chaos. Brokenness has always appeared to reign supreme in too many lives and too many places. So what are we to do? Numb ourselves with amusements? Give in to our fears and doubts? Or perhaps surrender to something else instead? Faith. Beauty. Wonder. The kiss of a cool breeze. The dance of a pair of butterflies. The splendor of the most ordinary flower. We do not need miracles to heal our hearts and souls. No, our Parent has provided us with so many lovely balms, but they tend to go overlooked because they feel too simple and pollyannaish. And maybe they are. And maybe that is the point, that the purpose of our existence is not to indulge our schemes and dreams, but to merely bear witness to something we can barely describe. So will you drown in the sorrows of the so-called "real" world? Or will you live in the hope of all that is wonderfully real?

Job 7:1-7; Psalms 147:1-6; 1 Corinthians 9:16-23; Mark 1:29-39

Thanksgiving Day

It is hard to feel thankful today. Too many of our children have died a violent death lately. And the air is just too thick with anger and despair. So some of us march and rage against the darkness. While others of us bury our heads in the sands of denial and privilege. But neither reaction truly soothes our aching souls. For the truth none of us wants to face is our impotence to prevent such death. As long as we are human, we will hurt one another. Pride. Ignorance. Fear. Do the motives really matter? At the end of the day, over and over again, we will kill one another. Yes, we have a duty to struggle with all our might against injustice and evil. But we must also remember that Jesus never cured leprosy, only a mere handful of lepers. If it was not his job to fix the world, why do we think it is ours? No, our task, our calling, is to open our eyes to the glorious kingdom already in our midst. A kingdom that is not a what or a where, but a whom: our brothers and sisters, our family.

Yes, our Parent has truly "done wondrous things on earth!" And so we have much to be thankful for today. For the gifts of Michael Brown, Rhasson Hamilton, Tamir Rice, and Christopher Walker. And yes, for the gifts of Timothy Loehmann, Darren Wilson, and killers still unknown. They are not friends or foes, nor demons or monsters. They are our brothers, one and all. And we are called to love them, one and all. It is perhaps our greatest cross to bear, this call to recognize both victim and murderer as our siblings. And it is something else to be thankful for this day.

As for me personally, I am thankful for a special group of hundreds of my brothers and sisters here in Los Angeles County, whose unclaimed bodies will be buried in a mass grave early next month. I did not know any of them, but I mourn their loss and celebrate their lives. I am thankful for the residents of the International Space Station, who provide a glimpse of our family's grandeur. I am thankful for the wild green parrots of my hometown, whose chatter and aerial acrobatics bring laughter to my lips and joy to my heart. And I am most thankful for my best friend, my lover, my partner in this journey, the woman who eleven years ago tomorrow became my wife.

I could go on and on. I have much to be thankful for. We all have much to be thankful for. We belong to a family whose glory cannot be measured. So let us give thanks and praise our king's name, today and every day until we draw our last breath, for we are their mightiest work.

Sirach 50:22-24; Psalms 145:1-11; 1 Corinthians 1:3-9; Luke 17:11-19

Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

"Then Abraham said, 'If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead.'" Clearly, threats of exile and torment don't work either. We live in a world where the rich men are even wealthier, Lazarus and his kin are far more numerous, and the majority of us accept it all with a shrug because none of us really believe that there is some eternal great chasm in our future. Our Parent is too loving and merciful for that. They'll make it a win-win for everyone in the end. Good news, right? But what if that means sharing a banquet table with Lazarus and his kin for all eternity? And what if they start asking awkward questions, about whether we were sickened by their condition, or what we did with the scraps from our tables? Even worse, what if they already know every detail of every good we received in our lifetimes, including how we used or didn't use those blessings? What if they ask us why we refused to love them like the brothers and sisters that they are? And what if they respond to all of this by showering us with more love and mercy than we ever gave them? Perhaps exile, torments, and chasms are the easier fates after all.

Amos 6:1-7; Luke 16:19-31

Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

God loves losers. They choose a tribe of rebellious malcontents to be his people, select the foremost sinner to be her apostle, and pine obscenely for a handful of lost souls despite a plethora of devoted followers. So why are we so fixated on being winners? Who are we trying to impress? When will we get it through our thick skulls that power, wealth, and fame mean nothing? All our Parent cares about is that we exist. We miserable losers exist. That is enough. Enough for an eternity of love.

Exodus 32:7-14; 1 Timothy 1:12-17; Luke 15:1-32

Solemnity of All Saints

From a historical standpoint, almost all of us are unremarkable. We will not be in the textbooks of the next millennium, and no one will care about our absence. But here's the Good News: God is not a historian! She loves each of us as the most remarkable of their creations, and he knows that we are extraordinary. Just read your local newspaper's obituary pages, and the truth that each of our lives is exceptional will shine through. So our Good News today is this: we are a family of saints.

Revelation 7:2-14; 1 John 3:1-3; Matthew 5:1-12