“Love has triumphed over hatred, life has conquered death, light has dispelled the darkness! Christians, by the grace of Christ, dead and risen, are the seeds of another humanity, in which we seek to live in service to one another, not to be arrogant, but rather respectful and ready to help. This is not weakness, but true strength!… May there echo in your hearts, in your families and communities, the announcement of the Resurrection, along with the warm light of the presence of the Living Jesus: a presence which brightens, comforts, forgives, gladdens. Jesus conquered evil at the root: he is the Door of Salvation, open wide so that each person may find mercy.”—Pope Francis
One of the ironies of the liturgical year is that we often find it easier to enter into the rigorous practices of Lent than to celebrate the joy of Easter and the Risen Lord. We know with our minds this great mystery of our faith. But we don’t always experience that joy in our hearts. It goes so far beyond our human experience that we have nothing to compare to it. At the heart of the story on Easter Sunday is the empty tomb. The stories of the appearances will come later, unfolding the mystery of the resurrection. But the first message to the apostles is that the tomb is empty. Somewhere in the darkness of the Easter Vigil and the pale dawn of Easter Sunday, each of us must confront the empty tomb and discover for ourselves the Risen Christ. Pope Francis reminds us that our joy in the Risen Christ calls us to a quiet love and service, wrapped in the awareness that our life in Christ needs no trumpets or pomp and earthly glory. We have a peace in our hearts that is stronger than death itself. All our hope lies in that promise.
The 76 years of Isidore’s life were a time of conflict and growth for the Church in Spain. The Visigoths had invaded the land a century and a half earlier, and shortly before Isidore’s birth they set up their own capital. They were Arians—Christians who said Christ was not God. Thus, Spain was split in two: One people (Catholic Romans) struggled with another (Arian Goths).
Isidore reunited Spain, making it a center of culture and learning. The country served as a teacher and guide for other European countries whose culture was also threatened by barbarian invaders.
Born in Cartagena of a family that included three other sibling saints—Leander, Fulgentius and Florentina—he was educated by his elder brother, whom he succeeded as bishop of Seville.
An amazingly learned man, he was sometimes called “The Schoolmaster of the Middle Ages” because the encyclopedia he wrote was used as a textbook for nine centuries. He required seminaries to be built in every diocese, wrote a Rule for religious orders, and founded schools that taught every branch of learning. Isidore wrote numerous books, including a dictionary, an encyclopedia, a history of Goths, and a history of the world—beginning with creation! He completed the Mozarabic liturgy, which is still in use in Toledo, Spain. For all these reasons, Isidore has been suggested as patron of the Internet. Several others—including Anthony of Padua—also have been suggested.
He continued his austerities even as he approached age 80. During the last six months of his life, he increased his charities so much that his house was crowded from morning till night with the poor of the countryside.
Reflection
Our society can well use Isidore’s spirit of combining learning and holiness. Loving, understanding and knowledge can heal and bring a broken people back together. We are not barbarians like the invaders of Isidore’s Spain. But people who are swamped by riches and overwhelmed by scientific and technological advances can lose much of their understanding love for one another.
During Holy Week, we remember in a special way the last few days of Jesus’ life and ministry on Earth. On Palm Sunday, we recall His triumphant entrance into Jerusalem as a beloved prophet. On Holy Thursday, we remember the Last Supper. And on Good Friday, we remember the crucifixion.
But what about the other days? What did Jesus do in the beginning of the most important week of His life?
We know from scripture that on Monday of Holy Week Jesus drove the money lenders out of the temple. On Wednesday, as Jesus continued causing quite a stir in the city teaching the truth, Judas saw an opportunity to make some money and secretly went to the corrupt Pharisees with an offer to help them arrest Jesus in return for 30 pieces of silver (anywhere between $90 and $3,000 in today’s money). Because of Judas, the Wednesday of Holy Week is often called “Spy Wednesday”.
But on Tuesday of Holy Week, also known as “Fig Tuesday”, we remember the time Jesus cursed a fig tree…yes that’s right, He cursed a fig tree, but for a good reason. Jesus and His disciples were heading back into Jerusalem in the morning, and Jesus was hungry. He noticed a fig tree on the side of the road, but when the group approached it, there was nothing on it but leaves. Jesus said to the tree, “May no fruit ever come from you again.” The disciples watched in wonder as the tree withered immediately. As we all would in that situation, the disciples pressed Jesus for an explanation.
Jesus answered, “Amen, I say to you, if you have faith and do not waver, not only will you do what has been done to the fig tree, but even if you say to this mountain, ‘Be lifted up and thrown into the sea,’ it will be done. Whatever you ask for in prayer with faith, you will receive.” In this passage, Jesus reminds us to have such a strong faith that even the impossible seems possible. No doubt, Jesus was preparing His disciples for what was to come in the next few days. He knew that their faith was about to be challenged and they were going to have to start their mission of building the Church.
Today, let’s remember to have faith in the love and mercy of God as we continue through the last few days on our journey to Easter.
“I’ve appointed the Devil to tempt and to trouble My creatures in this life [St. Catherine of Siena reports that Our Lord said to her]. I’ve done this, not so that My creatures will be overcome, but so that they may overcome, proving their virtue and receiving from Me the glory of victory. And no one should fear any battle or temptation of the Devil that may come to him, because I’ve made My creatures strong, and I’ve given them strength of will, fortified in the Blood of My Son. Neither the Devil nor any other creature can control this free will, because it’s yours, given to you by Me. By your own choice, then, you hold it or let it go if you please. It’s a weapon, and if you place it in the hands of the Devil, it right away becomes a knife that he’ll use to stab and kill you. On the other hand, if you don’t place this knife that is your will into the hands of the Devil—that is, if you don’t consent to his temptations and harassments—you will never be injured by the guilt of sin in any temptation. Instead, you’ll actually be strengthened by the temptation, as long as you open the eyes of your mind to see My love, and to understand why I allowed you to be tempted: so you could develop virtue by having it proved. My love permits these temptations, for the Devil is weak. He can do nothing by himself unless I allow him. So I let him tempt you because I love you, not because I hate you. I want you to conquer, not to be conquered, and to come to a perfect knowledge of yourself and of Me.”— St. Catherine of Siena, p. 159-60
There is a poignant passage in the Servant Song from Isaiah that illustrates and prepares us for two betrayals that are about to happen: “I thought I had toiled in vain and uselessly, I have exhausted myself for nothing” (Isaiah 49:4). Surely that is the human feeling after someone we love turns against us. On some level, we all feel we have made some kind of contract with life, when life does not come through as we had hoped, and we feel a searing pain called betrayal. It happens to all of us in different ways. It is a belly punch that leaves us with a sense of futility and emptiness. And here it happens to Jesus from two of his own inner circle, both Judas and Peter. The more love and hope you have invested in another person, the deeper the pain of betrayal is. If it happens at a deep and personal level, we wonder if he will ever trust again. Your heart does “break.” It is one of those crossroad moments, when the breaking can forever close you down, or in time just the opposite—open you up to an enlargement of soul—as we will see in Jesus this week. What is happening is that we are withdrawing a human dependency, finding grace to forgive and let go, and relocating our little self in The Self (God), which never betrays us. It can’t! It might take years for most of us to work through this; for Jesus it seems to have been natural, although who knows how long it took him to get there. All we see in the text is that there are no words of bitterness at all, only a calm, unblaming description in the midst of the “night,” which is almost upon us.
“Solitary Jesus, you get more alone as the week goes on, till all you have is a naked but enduring hope in God. Do not bring me to such a test, I would not know how to survive.”
“He shall bring forth justice to the nations. But he will not cry out or make his voice heard in the street…until he establishes justice on the earth…. I, the Lord, have called you for the victory of justice…to open the eyes of the blind, and to bring out prisoners from confinement.” —Isaiah 42:1–2, 4, 7
In Isaiah we have the first of the rightly named “Servant Songs,” which will continue throughout the week. In these four accounts hidden away in Isaiah, one either sees a foretelling of Jesus in brilliant analysis, or one wonders if Jesus was “modeled” to fit these lovely descriptions. The correlation is uncanny, at any rate. In the Gospel from John we have a woman acting as the “servant” to Jesus. (Maybe this is the connection?) We have Mary of Bethany again taking the fervent disciple’s role instead of the hostess role of Martha. She anoints Jesus’ feet with expensive nard, which is the anointing oil for death. My interpretation of this from all three varied Gospel accounts is that Mary is accepting the inevitability and necessity of death for Jesus (which Peter and the male inner circle cannot do!). “The whole house is filled with the fragrance.” Judas is the spokesman in the story, and he pretends to prefer the poor to a simple act of love. That is the clear point. It is forever a judgment on what we might now call “ideology on the left,” a good balance after the text has heavily criticized the ideology of religious zealots and Pharisees on the “right.” Jesus’ response appears to be directly from Deuteronomy: “There will always be poor in the land. I command you therefore, always be open-handed with anyone in the country who is in need or is poor” (15:11). Unfortunately, only the first phrase is quoted in the Gospel text, with the sad result that people have used this story to teach that religious piety is more important than social justice. As Paul will insightfully say later, “If I give away all that I possess, piece by piece, or even if I give away my body to be burned, but do not have love, it is useless” (1 Corinthians 13:3). As always, love of Jesus and love of justice for the neighbor are just two different shapes to the One Love.
“God of love and justice, let me know and live that they are not separate. Loving people will do justice, and just people will do their work with love and respect.”
“Free me from evil passions and heal my heart of all disorderly affections, that being healed and well purified in my interior, I may become fit to love, courageous to suffer and constant to persevere. Love is an excellent thing, a great good indeed, which alone maketh light all that is burdened and makes all that which is bitter sweet and savory. The love of Jesus is noble and generous; it spurs us on to do great things and excites us to desire always that which is most perfect.”— Thomas á Kempis, p. 89
“When You Wrestle With Pigs in the Mud, You’re Gonna Get Dirty“
Father Peter Fitzgibbons
March 20-21, 2021
Gospel: John 11: 1-45
I’ve hear a lot these days that we live in a “cancel culture.” Do you know what that is? It’s when people say mean things about you and try to erase your very existence. However, I disagree that we are living in a cancel culture. I was in a cancel culture. I was in the U.S. Army for 24 years and served in three wars. They tried to put an expiration date on my birth certificate, and they were pretty darn good at it too. That’s cancel culture. We are not living in a cancel culture. What we have here is an evil culture. People are trying to do evil under the appearance of good. They are claiming what was evil is now good. These sins are included in the four sins in scripture that cry out to Heaven for vengeance. Members of the cancel culture scream at you just as they screamed at our Lord and crucified Him. There’s nothing new under the sun as scripture says. And there’s not. The good news for us is that we don’t have to be that way. But, if you wrestle with pigs in the mud, the pigs doesn’t mind, but you’re going to get dirty.
Let me ask you a question. Do you know what the secret to happiness is? Want me to tell you? Our Lord has told us to be holy. He said, “Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you.” This is a peace that the world cannot take away. So, if we seek and strive for holiness and to be one with our good Lord each day, we will have a happiness that no one can take away. That doesn’t mean you won’t have your share of sorrows and troubles. We all have our illnesses, and we all have our struggles. Our loved ones have been taken from this world to Heaven. That happens to us all. It doesn’t mean Christ stopped loving us. It means we are sharing in some of His Passion for the sake of the Body of His church, for our own redemption, and for the souls of others. We know deep down that as long as we do not turn away from our Lord through mortal sin or unrepented venial sin, He will always be there. Even though we cannot feel it, He is always present with us. Our peace and joy will come later after our trial on Earth is done. Our suffering is redemptive.
Saint John Paul II was suffering from end-stage Parkinson’s. He loved classical music, so they brought in a world famous orchestra and conductor to play for him. I don’t know his name…it’s not ZZ Top, so it’s beyond me. Because of the steroids he was on for the Parkinson’s, he was bloated, shaking and drooling. He could barely move. The last piece the orchestra played was his favorite, and the orchestra played it so beautifully, it would have made angels weep. When the orchestra finished playing, the conductor turned around and looked nervously at the Pope. The conductor was a little scared, because they were playing for the pope. The Holy Father could barely move, but he looked at the conductor and gave him a thumbs up. Even in his suffering, you knew he was a man of God. He had a happiness about him no matter what happened. He had the weight of the whole Church on his shoulders. He had a fatal illness that is terribly debilitating. But, he still had peace. And, that’s what we can have, because we have Christ. However, because we have Christ, we have an obligation to help others.
So, how do we fight this so-called cancel culture? We must try to be even more holy and to pray for people. Some of them are like those in I see in the gated community, a state sponsored residence with its own security system. Those incarcerated never had a chance. They were abused in childhood, so the chances were less than average that they would have a good life. They had a lot of things working against them. Granted, they chose to do evil, but they had a lot more crosses than we do. That’s not an excuse, but it’s a mitigating factor. How do we help those people who are evil and who try to say what we believe is evil and must change? Even the Catholic Church says sometimes what we believe must change. That’s not true. They are lying. They aren’t wrong…they are lying. Educated people who know better are lying. How do we change that? Have a little chat with them? Even though I’m almost 68, I’m still a soldier, and part of me would love to say, “Let’s go outside and discuss this.” No. Our Lord said to love them, sacrifice for them, and pray for them. They were taught from a young age that sin was good. We see the outcomes of sin and evil. We don’t have to be like them. But, instead of fighting with them, we need to love them.
Those who advocate evil are just like little children who don’t get their way, and they throw a tantrum. That’s me some days. Ever had a child…or a husband…throw a temper tantrum? What happens? Like our guardian angels, and like any good parent, we slowly take them in our arms, close to our heart. They are all worn out from their temper tantrum and break down in tears. So, we hold them close to our heart, giving them comfort and love. That’s what we are to do with this cancel culture. We can hold out our arms to them, no matter what they say to us, and no matter what they try to do to us. We can pray for them, sacrifice for them, and slowly bring them in to our heart.
This culture is not cancel…I know what cancel is. Cancel is evil. We are living in an evil age. Actually, every age is evil. But, we don’t have to be like that. Remember, when you grow close to Jesus, you have both a gift and a command to go out and bring others in and to change the culture. What’s very sad about people who are caught up in the cancel culture is that they don’t see how blind they are. They are like someone who has had too much to drink. The cops stop them, and they say, “I only had two beers!” Really? That math is wrong. They can’t stand up, never mind drive. “I’m okay!” They don’t see it…they are blind. It’s just like alcohol blinds the alcoholic and dope blinds the dope addict. And, the only cure for that is divine love.
During my time working in hospitals, I’ve learned that the only proper way to treat a disease is to find out what the disease is. So, we shouldn’t say it’s a cancel culture when it’s an evil one. People who are not eradicating evil are promoting it. There’s a big difference. Saint Mother Teresa tried to eradicate evil, and look at the love she spread. So this is what we do. We don’t have to be like them; instead, we need to love them, to pray for them, and to sacrifice for them.
How will you apply this message to your life? Will you, like Saint Mother Teresa, try to eradicate evil by spreading God’s love?
You can read all of Father Fitzgibbons’ sermons by going to https://annunciationcatholicalbemarle.com/ and clicking on “Blog” then “Categories” and then “Sermon Notes. From a cell phone, click on “Blog” then “Menu” and then “Categories” (located at the end of page). There is also a search box if looking for a specific topic.
“The same God who called Abraham and made him come down from his land without knowing where he should go is the same God who goes to the Cross in order to fulfill the promise that he made. He is the same God who in the fullness of time will make that promise a reality for all of us. What joins that first instance to this last moment is the thread of hope. Therefore, what joins my Christian life to our Christian life, from one moment to another, in order to always go forward— sinners, but forward—is hope. Yet, what gives us peace in the dark moments, in life’s darkest moments, is always hope. Hope does not disappoint: it is always there, silent, humble, but strong.”—Pope Francis
These powerful words from Pope Francis remind us that hope is one of three “theological virtues,” along with faith and love. With St. Paul, we believe that the greatest of these is love, but hope is the virtue that keeps us going when even love seems to fail. Sometimes our ordinary use of the word hope can reduce it to something like wishful thinking: I hope I pass this exam. I hope my test results are good. I hope my children will be happy and successful. We use the word for things that are out of our control. We use it for times when perhaps our efforts have fallen short. We use it for all the uncertainties in our daily lives. Pope Francis reminds us that the real source of our hope is always in God’s faithfulness and mercy. Abraham has always been the prime example of this kind of hope. He left everything to follow God’s call. We all have times in our lives when we, too, find ourselves going forth into the unknown darkness. In those times, hope in God’s promise is all we have to cling to—and cling we must, sometimes with only our fingertips. The image of hope keeping us from drowning can seem all too real at times when we are overwhelmed by life’s struggles: addiction, despair, depression, death. The theme of our Lenten reflections is hope. The hope of Lent is clearly Easter and the resurrection. But there’s a deeper hope that is with us each and every day, that knows no times or seasons. It’s the ground on which we stand, the bedrock of our foundation. That thread of hope runs strong and resilient through our lives, caught at each end by the grace of God’s merciful love.