FEAST OF THE ASCENSION                   Fr. Ken Morman                                        May 4, 2008

              Politicians and media people know from hard experience that it's not enough to have a mes­sage. You also have to be able to package that message in "sound-bites" -- short, sim­ple, colorful sen­tences that capture in a nutshell what you want to say so that people can understand it and remember it. Luke in writing those opening lines of the Acts of the Apos­tles that formed the first reading for the feast of the Ascension we just heard was way ahead of his time in that department, because that's exactly what he achieved – there's an impor­tant message here with all kinds of rami­fications and im­plications, but we’re not given today long theological essays full of big words and hard to understand ideas, but rather a whole series of little sound bites that capture the whole thing, if only we make the effort to think about them a bit.

              For a start, there are those very opening words with which we began, from the Acts of the Apostles – I always liked the way they were rendered in the original NAB – speaking of those days fol­low­ing the resurrection of Jesus, Luke says, "he showed them in many con­vin­cing ways that he was alive."  What do you think: is that the problem today? – What are the things you've seen that con­vince you that Jesus really is alive? That he doesn't just "live on" in our hearts and memor­ies and so on, but that he's alive and well and doing things among us here today?

              The first time around he did that by appearances to the disciples. Will that work today? I don't think so. One woman I worked with in Toledo had some mystical prayer experiences and they left her shaken; she said she didn't want to have mystical experiences and visions – she said that if she even hinted that the Lord had appear­ed to her, people would think she was crazy and start avoid­ing her. (She was right about that, you know.) So if it’s not appear­ances, then what will it take to show people in convincing ways that Jesus is alive?  It has to be our witness, our daily lives.

              Which is exactly what Jesus said in another of those one-liners – "you are to be my witnes­ses," he said, "even to the ends of the earth." Even to here where we are, in Milford.  Think of the im­­plications of that: Jesus has made himself dependent upon us to get the word out, not only in the sense of allowing people to know the histor­ical fact – everybody around here knows that we Christ­ians believe Jesus was raised from the dead – but in the more important sense of making people real­ize what that means, what the implications of his having overcome death are for the way we live and treat each other.

              If we’re still afraid to love the way he taught us, without counting the cost, if we don't live in such a way that shows other people that we are utterly con­vinced that Jesus has conquered death and that as a consequence we cannot lose, then what kind of witness are we going to offer? It's going to be pretty theoret­i­cal, pretty anemic. And maybe that’s why, as that reading said in still another of those sound bites, we tend to still "stand around looking up to heav­en," as though people’s lack of belief was somehow God's prob­lem rather than a com­men­tary on our own weak discipleship.

              Jesus gave us a promise that provides at least part of the solution to this problem. He said in a penultimate sound-bite, "you will re­ceive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you."  That is true. We have all been baptized and con­firmed; we have received the Holy Spirit. Like the throttle on a car or a switch on a massive machine, the power has been made available to us. What is need­ed now is to release it; we have to depress the pedal, and unleash it – or it will remain just theoretical.

              Jesus told his followers to spend these days between now and Pentecost in prayer to the Spirit. Let's us contemporary followers of his do the same: let’s turn to that Spirit the Lord has already given us and ask his help to be able to do what the Lord has asked us to do. In the words of the prayer in the middle reading -- let's pray that the God and Father of Our Lord Jesus Christ might grant us a spirit of wisdom and insight to know him clearly; that he might enlighten the eyes of our hearts that we might know the hope that belongs to his call, the surpassing greatness of his power in us who believe, so that putting that power to use, we might pro­vide for our contemporaries the kind of wit­ness that will allow the risen Lord to work through us to bring about the kingdom we long to see.

Come to the Water Easter Vigil Homily      March 22, 2008       Rev. Rob Waller

_________________________________________________________________

“Come to the water!”

For the longest time I just wanted to be able to swim.

Oh, I could try to say something spiritual, like

“I longed to be harmony with creation and the gracefulness of God,”

or

“To be in movement with water is to be touch with the divine.”

But in reality, I was just plain envious of people who could swim.

To have that freedom in the water;

to have the fun that they were having in the pool.

– that is want I wanted.

I had my chance when I was 36 years old

and on sabbatical in California.

Embarrassed and hesitant

I went to the local university to sign up for

“Swimming: A Beginners Course for Adults.”

The class was filled, and I was relieved. I had tried.

Then in a small grocery I picked up one of those free newspapers,

and saw: “Swimming Class for Adults Afraid of Water.”

That was me, not hesitant or embarrassed – afraid.

I called the number and spoke to a person who said she was the instructor,

was told that there was still room in the class – drat! –

and that all I needed to do was to drop off $250 in her mailbox

by the end of the day.

It was non-refundable.

Silly thing to do, huh?

But I did it.

When I went to the local high school for the first night

there actually was a class, and an instructor

– and ten other quiet, frightened adults.

What I had stumbled on was sort of an RCIA,

the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults

in which our Church helps people approach the waters of baptism.

The first night we did nothing but sit in the locker room and talk.

We told about how we came to be there that night.

We talked about what it felt like being there.

We were told how the sessions would progress, and we asked our questions.

That’s like the Inquiry period of the RCIA, isn’t it?

In the next evenings – still in the locker room –

we talked about our fears.

We visualized ourselves as swimmers – a very Berkeley kind of thing to do.

I imagined myself swimming with dolphins.

Our instructor – Melon, a contraction of Mary Ellen –

spoke to us about the water being our friend.

She had some convincing to do with this group.

Yes, water could be dangerous,

like the flooding Little Miami a couple days ago

or the terrifying Red Sea eons ago,

but in the pool, she said, we did not have to worry about currents

nor wonder about how deep it was – it was clearly marked.

And besides, we only use the top three feet of water to swim anyway,

so it really doesn’t make much difference how deep the water is.

We were assured that the water itself would not pull us down.

Water actually buoys us up, if we only relax.

Melon’s theory was that there is a swimmer in each of us.

So, we don’t have to teach the body to swim.

The body will naturally know what to do in the water –

like we are created to seek God and be with God,

if we only relax and let it happen.

When it came time to actually go to the pool,

she said again what she had said many times,

“You will be not forced to do anything.

Do only what you want to do and when you want to do it.

Always be satisfied with where you are.

If you feel pressured, don’t do it.

There is no time schedule.

Each person moves at his or her own rate.”

With that, we approached the water.

Our Catechumenate had begun.

Some of just sat on the side of the pool that night,

dangling our feet over the edge.

Those who chose and were ready,

stood in the water all the way up to their knees.

Each evening thereafter,

we began with a half hour in the locker room, talking,

like your “Breaking Open the Word” every week.

Being together with someone we began to trust,

some braved the water up to the heart

where it begins to take our breath away, it seems,

just like taking matters to heart or exploring matters of the heart

sometimes seems to take our breath away.

Eventually, some were ready to touch their faces to the water,

literally facing our fear and facing what frightened us.

When we said that we were amazed that we had done what we did

and that we had come so far so fast,

Melon would remind us, “No need to be in a hurry.”

One night some of us decided to accept her invitation

to go down to the deep end,

hanging on the side of the pool all the way, of course.

That was like your going to the Cathedral for Rite of Election.

Little by little we let go of the edge, and cut a corner of the pool.

It felt like we were swimming.

Yes, there was once when I did panic,

forgetting to relax and forgetting that I did not need to be afraid.

I called for help, and I had it in an instant.

It may have been our last evening together.

If we wanted to see what it was like standing on the diving board,

we could do so.

I remember standing up there that night,

looking down at our instructor treading water.

“I’m here. I’ll catch you, if you need.”

I jumped and swam to the side.

My dear Elect for baptism,

tonight you come to this Vigil of Easter.

You have shared your stories.

You have experienced community.

You have opened your hearts to God.

You have taken matters to heart.

You have faced your fears.

You now stand on the edge of the font of baptism,

with your struggles and your sins,

with your desire for faith

and with your longing for freedom.

Jesus has entered the water before you.

He waits to receive you.

Jump into his arms.

The Mystery is Known                            Midnight Mass 2007                   Deacon Tim Schutte

In the silence of the night, the mystery has been made known.

What was unclear to former ages is now revealed,

not by some ambiguous philosophy,

not by some pie in the sky idea,

In the darkness of night the boundless riches of the infant Jesus leads us

 into the mystery of his life, his entire life, so that, for once,

we can live fully in the bright light of God’s eternal promise.

To live in Jesus Christ is not to live in a “ suspension from reality”,

Rather, to live in Jesus is to live in God’s grace.  

And living in God’s grace has nothing to do with escaping

reality. No, to live in the mystery is to live life

thoroughly, recognizing that life’s meaning will never be exhausted.

As sharers in the promise of Jesus Christ, we immerse ourselves

in this world in order that it might be transformed into the image and

likeness of the Word Incarnate, Jesus, the Son of God.

Life in the Lord is not a matter of suspension from reality…

Religion…Faith in Christ…is not a topical slave.

Rather, in the Word Made Flesh,

all contradictions meet.

Not all contradictions are understood,

but all contradictions meet.

If we play with these truths, where all contradictions meet,

we perhaps, come to mark the dimensions of the

mystery and make known its essence in the Silence of the night:

In this Silence, He who is everywhere comes to earth.

In the darkness of night we find an infant born who has no beginning.

The wrapping in  flesh  of Him who is Pure Spirit,

the Almighty of the universe is now an Infant babe,

infinite Wisdom is a suckling Child at the Breast…

The Creator of all things is the object of

musing by quiet cattle munching their cud,

and watching with gentle eyes.

As members of the same body, and sharers in the promise of Christ,

Christians are far from avoiding the anguish of trying to

reconcile what can not be reconciled.

Christians know that in the truth of this

very tension of life… Divine Truth is born.

Life is not one-sided. It is ambivalent.

In the Incarnation, polarity meets in a dialogue of love.

God is ONE and Three

Christ is God and humanity.

Mary is Virgin and Mother.

Birth in Christ is a kind of Dying.

Death in Christ is the way to life.

When we understand that faith is not as the suspension of reality, but

the beginning of it, and to follow the Christ in whom   

all contradictions meet,  we begin to see, somewhat mysteriously, that:

In the midst of suffering one can find true joy;

In the midst of conflict one can find true peace;

The road to Calvary is the road to glory;

The setting sun is the only way to the rising one;

and the only way to receive  anything is to give

everything away.

In the stillness of night, humanity has been given

the greatest gift God knows to give…the gift of God’s self

revealing love in Christ Jesus.

And in the gift of the Incarnation… we find an ongoing reality

of Christ dwelling not just in history but now within our lives

and within the very  tension of our differences. 

God loves us because of our humanity; within the polarity of life.

God sees and loves in us what God sees and loves in Christ,

where all contradictions come together.

The Word was made flesh, not again…but still. In our lives,

in all our differences,

The mystery has been made known. Let us rejoice!