The Third Sunday of Easter
April 14, 2013
Listen to this homily (.wma file)
At that magic moment when Pope Francis appeared on the balcony of St. Peter’s in
simple white cassock, smiling and speaking the low key language of the people,
referring to himself not in grandiose terms but as their bishop, and sporting a
name never before used by a Pope, I remember thinking to myself that this didn’t
seem like business as usual. It didn’t, of course, and nothing that the
new Pope has said or done since has seemed like business as usual, either, has
it!
On the other hand, business as usual is exactly
what came to mind when I read today’s passage from John’s gospel. In
that reading, it looks like the disciples of Jesus were back to just that –
to business as usual - back to where they had started, to doing what they
had done before they had met the charismatic, irresistible rabbi from
Nazareth. They were fishermen and here they were back doing what they
knew best: fishing.
But the reading from Acts told quite a different
story. It fast-forwarded us in time to the moment when Peter and his
companions stood before the high priest who gave them stern warning not to
speak any more about this Jesus. And when Peter boldly declared that
his obedience was to God and not to human beings, well, we knew this was not
business as usual! Business as usual for Peter was talking big but
delivering small: “Even though all deny you, I will never deny you!”
Business as usual was Peter shamelessly caving in three times when the going
got rough, denying that he even knew Jesus.
Why the change? We know very well.
Peter had encountered the risen Jesus or, better, the risen Jesus had
encountered him. He had called out to him from the shore, surprised him and
his companions with a huge catch of fish, fed breakfast to him and the
others on the shore, questioned him about his love not once but three times,
prepared him for what his future would be, and called him once again to
follow. After all of that, how could Peter have ever returned to
business as usual? The encounter with the Risen Lord changed everything!
So, what about us? We’ve been through some
days and celebrations that have brought us face-to-face with Jesus. There
were the forty days of Lent, there were the powerful celebrations of Holy
Thursday, Good Friday, and the Easter Vigil when we went from Upper Room to
Calvary to victory. There was Easter Sunday when we basked in the glorious
presence of Christ triumphant over death. But that was then. What
about now? Are we back to business as usual? Speaking for myself, and
maybe for you, I’d have to say that it’s not easy to stay on an Easter
‘high!’
But there is a way. The 19th century
Jesuit poet, Gerard Manley Hopkins, in his epic poem, The Wreck of the
Deutschland, concluded that marvelous poem with memorable words that give us
a way to keep Easter alive, words that have found a place in English
literature and deserve a place in our theology. “Let him easter in us, be a
dayspring to the dimness of us….”
Let Christ “Easter” in us. The poet cleverly
turns the Easter noun into a verb, into something dynamic, something alive
and at work within us, something that can transform us from the inside-out.
That’s how to keep Easter going. That’s how to keep from going back to
business as usual.
But how do we turn Easter into a verb? How
do we let Christ “Easter” in us? Jesus shows us the way in his
exchange with Peter in today’s gospel reading. “Do you love me?” Jesus
asks Peter three times, and each time, when Peter assures him of his love,
Jesus turns love from a noun into a verb, a most challenging verb:
“Feed my lambs,” he says, “Feed my sheep!” My friends, I would suggest
that this is the way to keep Easter alive. When we love others in
down-to-earth, every day, selfless ways, Christ is “Eastering” in us. And
love like this can make Easter last a long time.
Back to Pope Francis. Aren’t we fortunate to
have in him a model for what this is all about? For Francis, love is clearly
a verb: it means feeding the sheep, tending the flock. It means
leaving behind the gilded palace, the brocaded vestments, the isolation and
the adulation so he can just be with the flock, with the folks. And it
also means putting the poor and their needs in first place -- not just on
paper but in practice. To quote his own words at his inaugural Mass at St.
Peter’s: “The Pope must open his arms to protect all of God’s people and
embrace with tender affection the whole of humanity, especially the poorest,
the weakest, the least important…the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the
naked, the sick and those in prison.” Now there’s a program for keeping
Easter alive!
I have to share with you that Pope Francis’
example is causing me to do some thinking about my ministry as pastor. Am I
doing too much managing and not enough ministering? Do people always
come before plans and projects? And where do the poor and marginalized
figure in my priorities? These are questions I have to ask myself.
And perhaps they are the kinds of questions we should all be asking
ourselves.
If Jesus is truly going to “Easter” in us, it
will only be because we keep finding ways to reach out beyond ourselves to
love and to serve, to feed the lambs, to tend the flock.
My friends, it is not easy to stay on an Easter
high. It’s always easier to settle back into business as usual. But we
should be grateful this Easter for Pope Francis. He gives us hope that the
Christ who so clearly “Easters” in him can “Easter” in us as well – all the
way to Pentecost, and beyond!
Father Michael G. Ryan
