Fourth Sunday of Easter (April 29th 2012)

Gospel: John 10:11-18

Translated from a homily by Don Fabio Rosini, broadcast on Vatican Radio

Questions raised by this passage from the Gospel

1 Are my relationships with others coloured by self-interest? Do I seek to "get" something in return for the things I do for others?

2. In what way is the Good Shepherd's relationship with us foreign to the kind of relationships that generally prevail in our society?

3. In what sense does the consecrated life, as well as the married life, involve laying down one's life for others?

4. How does this Gospel passage make clear that love is something that is indissoluble?

5. Don Fabio says that we tend to back out of relationships as soon as the "wolf" appears. What are the things that act as wolves in my life?

6. Am I inclined to believe that I am not my brother's keeper? In what way is this attitude contrary to the attitude of the Good Shepherd?

"The Lord Jesus is the Good Shepherd who lays down his life for his sheep. He is the one who teaches us the art of bleeding for others. I pray that the reader too will have a heart that is capable of bleeding. I pray that they will be willing to suffer for those around them. I ask that they will be ready to endure embarrassment on account of others, and that they will gladly face discomfort and inconvenience on behalf of their neighbour. I pray that they will have many dangerous wolves to face. I pray, in other words, that they will have much love to give."

The Good Shepherd relates to us in a way that is foreign to the mentality of the world

The Lord in this passage describes himself as a pastor, in contrast to a hired worker. The human being has a tendency to allow himself to be led by hired workers, by people who do a job only to gain profit for themselves. The human being is accustomed to reimbursing people for their services. We are used to having to pay in some way for the "good-will" of others. It is difficult for us to believe in the existence of genuine love, or to accept the unconditional giving of the Lord. In our unbelief we end up placing ourselves under masters that have to be heavily recompensed for anything they do for us. We end up being subservient to masters who abandon us when the wolf appears.

            It is not easy to open up to the Good Shepherd, because it requires the renunciation of relationships that we have control over. If I am to relate personally to someone who confronts the wolf, who confronts death and evil, who is willing to bleed in order to defend me, then this overturns the kind of logic that I am committed to and have bought in to. The logic of the Good Shepherd is completely other and highlights the mediocrity of the conventional order of relationships in our world.

The consecrated life and the married life require giving one's life for others

On Good Shepherd Sunday we are presented with a generosity that is anything but mediocre! Normally we focus on the consecrated life this Sunday. What do people look for from their priests? They look for pastors and not for hired workers. But often they have to resign themselves to the fact that it is not easy to find the kind of generosity that is the mark of the true pastor. It is possible to preach a good homily; it is possible to manage the parish well; it is possible to celebrate the Mass perfectly. But what people are looking for is someone who is willing to bleed for them; someone who is a pastor and not a hired worker.

            When we encounter a spouse, a child or a friend, we ask ourselves deep down in our soul, "Is this person a pastor or a hired worker? Is he here for his own benefit, or for mine? Does he keep company with me only for as long as it suits him, and if there is danger or inconvenience will he flee? Or will he be faithful to me?" The priesthood is a call to give one's life for others, and the married life is just the same. The spouse hopes to find in his partner a person who is willing to give their life for them, a pastor and not a hireling. A spouse does not seek someone who exploits, who serves himself, or uses the other for his own benefit. It is crystal clear from this point of view that love is indeed indissoluble. The call to love is unconditional. This is why the church proclaims that marriage is for life. It is a distortion of the truth to claim that marriage is something that is temporary. Love is not something that one can abandon as soon as the wolf arrives, or that can be disposed of as soon as it becomes inconvenient. The indissolubility of love is made explicit by this particular text. The Good Shepherd does not abandon his task when the wolf appears. He does not calculate the risks and then take a step backwards. The Good Shepherd is someone who offers his life for others. This is love, and if this is absent, then love is absent. As long as I say "I will do whatever benefits me", then I am a hired worker and not a pastor, nor a sibling, nor a parent, nor a spouse.

Who is willing to confront the wolf that prompts us to flee from loving relationships?

Our society is living out the drama of relationships that do not endure. Separations, break-up of families, infidelities, trusts that are broken. Few people are willing to confront the wolf. When the wolf appears, people flee and abandon their commitments. The Lord Jesus shows us another way, the way of indissoluble love. It does not matter whether we are married, have children, or are living the consecrated life. What matters is to have the spirit of Christ. What matters is to have the spirit of the good shepherd who lays down his life for his sheep.

Am I inclined to believe that I am not my brother's keeper? In what way is this attitude contrary to the attitude of the Good Shepherd?

There is a disturbing phrase from the Old Testament that this Gospel passage reminds us of. In Genesis 4, Cain commits the first homicide in history when, out of jealousy, he kills his younger brother Abel. After the murder, God cries out to Cain, "Where is your brother Abel?" The response from Cain is chilling: "I don't know! Am I my brother's keeper?" This is the typical phrase used by all of those who do not love. It is not necessary to physically take the life of another in order to "kill" them. It is sufficient to treat them with disinterest. The Hebrew term for "keeper" used by Cain also means "shepherd", and it refers to one who keeps guard, or who takes care of another. It is normal in human affairs that the older brother should take care of the younger one. If the younger brother is in trouble, then it is natural that he can turn to his older brother for help. But we are a generation that tends to ask, "Am I my brother's keeper?" We often hear the phrase, "That is none of my business!" or, "This is not my problem!" When we hear utterances of this sort then we encounter the assassin, the one who says, "I am not your keeper!"

            Let us ask ourselves the question, "Am I my brother's keeper?" There is only one honest answer to this question! Yes I am! We cannot truly live if we do not behave as shepherds to each other. We cannot truly live if every act we do is according to protocol or regulations; if our entire behaviour consists in doing what we are bound to do. I am not simply your bureaucratic assistant, available only at certain times, and who must be paid in advance! No, I am your shepherd and you are mine. It is not enough to say to my neighbour, "I have nothing against you". The fact is that we must be for our neighbour. Our relationships must be permeated by unconditional care for others. Even civil law recognizes that the negligent failure to provide aid to those in need is wrong. But unfortunately our relationships are often characterized by the wanton neglect of others.

            The Lord Jesus is the Good Shepherd who lays down his life for his sheep. He is the one who teaches us the art of bleeding for others. I pray that the reader too will have a heart that is capable of bleeding. I pray that they will be willing to suffer for those around them. I ask that they will be ready to endure embarrassment on account of others, that they will gladly face discomfort and inconvenience on behalf of their neighbour. I pray that they will have many dangerous wolves to face. I pray, in other words, that they will have much love to give.

Third Sunday of Easter (April 22^nd 2012)   

Gospel: Luke 24:35-8

Translated from a homily by Don Fabio Rosini, broadcast on Vatican Radio

Questions raised by this passage from the Gospel

1 Is Jesus a "ghost" in my life, or is he flesh and blood? Do I relate to him on an abstract level, or is he truly present in my life?

2. The risen Lord does not proclaim a moral teaching to the disciples, but conversion and the forgiveness of sins. Am I inclined to believe that being a Christian involves fulfilling certain practices? Or do I believe that it consists in being forgiven by the risen Lord and given new direction and meaning by him?

3. Does conversion consist in me making a huge effort to rehabilitate my life, or is it something that flows naturally from the risen Lord's unconditional pardoning of my sins?

4. Don Fabio describes sin as a distortion of our true nature. If this is true, then does it make sense to say that the risen Lord's pardon of our sins can lead us to live life truly?

"The Lord is flesh and blood! We continue to look on Jesus as if he were up there in heaven, far away from us, taking care of his own affairs, whilst we are down here like ants living out our own existence. And we continue living our lives of mediocrity, every now and then directing a vague prayer heavenward. But Jesus is flesh and blood! He eats with us, and is present in the Eucharist. He is tangible, something that can be experienced and proclaimed."

Jesus is not a ghost, or an idea, but someone who wishes to enter into personal relationship with us

This passage recounts the meeting of the apostles with the risen Lord after Jesus appears to the disciples at Emmaus. The Lord enters the room and emphasizes to them that they are not seeing a ghost. Sometimes we approach Jesus on a purely mental or intellectual level. We try to understand him in terms of things that are plausible and easily accessible to us. It could justifiably be said that the Lord Jesus is merely a ghost in the lives of many Christians! In other words, he is an abstraction, a pleasant idea, but he is not someone who is truly present and who, as it were, sits down and eats with us. In this passage Jesus tells the disciples that a ghost does not have flesh and blood as they can see that he has. The Lord is flesh and blood! We continue to think that Jesus is up there in heaven, far away from us, looking after his own affairs, whilst we are down here like ants living out our own existence. And we continue living our lives of mediocrity, every now and then directing a vague prayer heavenward. But Jesus is flesh and blood! He eats with us, and is present in the Eucharist. He is tangible, something that can be experienced and proclaimed. He is not just an idea!

The risen Lord does not ask us for exterior observances, but conversion

What is proclaimed by the risen Lord? A teaching about morality? A message about things that must be done and obligations that must be met? No, what is proclaimed is conversion and forgiveness of sins. What does this Gospel present to us as being the ultimate objective of the apparition of Jesus? The encounter with the risen Lord gives rise to a proclamation to the ends of the earth regarding conversion and the forgiveness of sins. A proclamation, in other words, that a person can be transformed utterly. It is simply not true that we are destined to remain the same miserable creatures that we have always been. It is not true that we are doomed to act out the same patterns of behaviour that, at the end of the day, were the patterns of behaviour that we learned in our infancy. A person can be born again! A person can have a new life! Radical transformation and conversion are possible for the human person. A change in motivation, a change at the profoundest depths of our being, a change in that part of us that is most authentic. Conversion is possible and it must be proclaimed! And this conversion cannot be separated from the forgiveness of sins.

Conversion is not our doing, but arises out of the unconditional forgiveness of sins

In speaking of conversion, what is it that can transform a person into a child of God? What is it that renews our lives in such a way that we no longer appear to be ourselves? People are transformed when they have been pardoned. We tend to think of the forgiveness of sins as a purely sentimental act of mercy on the part of the person who grants forgiveness. But Scripture sees forgiveness in a much more proactive way. It is something that impacts on a person and radically changes his life. When Christ pardoned sinners he used to tell them to go and sin no more, to live a life that had been transformed by his pardon. Many people need to be healed through love. To effect change in such people, it is necessary to love them, and to accept them as they are. Once they genuinely encounter forgiveness of sins, they are transformed. To encounter forgiveness of sins means to experience healing in that part of us which has ceased to be authentic.

           

Sin is a distortion of our true nature. The forgiveness of sins allows us to truly be what we were meant to be. The forgiveness of sins thus leads to new life

What is sin? To understand forgiveness of sins, we need to understand what sin itself is. Sin is a malignant growth within us. A person is not being true to his nature when he sins. He is only true to his God-given nature when he doesn't sin. A person is authentic when he does good, and inauthentic when he does evil. Goodness is natural for us, so to receive forgiveness of sin is to rediscover ourselves, and to actively be, finally, what we really are. Sin distorts our being in such a way as to make it appear that all of human existence and endeavour is destined for the tomb. What is life when it is lived from the point of view of the tomb? And what is life when it is lived from the point of view of the resurrection? It is something completely different! If a man can really rise again, and if he is not a ghost or an abstraction, then humanity is confronted with the possibility of a way of life that is completely different. I am not destined for nothingness. Life is no longer delimited by roads that come to a dead end, but by thresholds that must be overcome. All of our mediocre and selfish attitudes are conditioned by a fear of death and annihilation. If a man has risen from the dead, then these attitudes are definitively proven to be unfounded. Life is no longer something that is lived with the tomb as its point of reference. It is no surprise that the disciples are terrified when they see the risen Lord. Their mentality tends towards the belief that when something is dead, it is dead. But the resurrection shows us that when something dies, something else begins, because God is more powerful than anything.

            Conversion and the forgiveness of sins demonstrate to us that Christ is not just an abstract idea. I can be changed and I can move away from my sins when I begin to enter into relationship with Christ on a personal level, and stop treating him as if he were an intellectual notion only. This Sunday, once again, we proclaim the life of the resurrection, the life that comes - not from us - but from Christ.

SECOND SUNDAY OF EASTER (16^th April 2012)

GOSPEL: JOHN 20:19-31

From a homily by Don Fabio Rosini, broadcast on Vatican Radio.

QUESTIONS RAISED BY THIS GOSPEL PASSAGE

1. Am I inclined to think that Jesus makes himself present to people who have heroic characteristics or great sanctity? Does it ever occur to me that the place where Jesus wishes to erupt most of all might be in my deepest interior, the place where my actions arise?

2. Can genuinely good actions arise from a person who is fundamentally preoccupied with his own self-preservation and self-advancement? If Christ touches us within and conquers the fears that dominate much of our behaviour, then how can this transform the meaning and nature of our actions?

3. Why is it so important for the risen Lord to show us his wounds? What do the wounds tell us about the nature of Jesus?

4. Do I believe in the resurrection on an intellectual level only, or have I allowed the wounds of the risen Christ to touch me personally?

The Risen Lord erupts in places that are filled with fear and unbelief

This week the Gospel describes the apparition of Jesus to his disciples after the resurrection. One of the many things that can be underlined in this text is the condition that the disciples were in at that moment: hiding behind closed doors, filled with fear. The risen Lord does not appear to people who are in a secure state of mind. He appears to people who are in need of the resurrection. In this case, the disciples are terrified because of their association with Jesus who has been crucified. Later on, Jesus will appear to Thomas, a man who is not in a fit condition to believe. It is important to be aware of this fact. The appearance of the risen Lord in our lives is not something that comes about as a consequence of something that we believe, or as a result of some deed that we accomplish. The resurrection is the action of God, an eruption of the Lord Jesus within us. The new life that is brought by the resurrection - the life of the one who is greater than death and unbelief - cannot be reduced to human accomplishments or characteristics. We do not have within us a route or programme that we can follow that will lead us to the resurrection. Resurrection is the work of God and the gift of God. It requires that we open ourselves to him and be visited by him. The eruption of Jesus into our fears is the experience of resurrection.

The only one who can save me from my fears is the one who can show me the wounds he has suffered for love of me

The human person tends to believe that he is open to truth, capable of relating to others in a wholesome way, and acting reasonably. In reality, he is barricaded inside the terror of losing himself, his own vulnerabilities and his fear of being rejected. The Lord Jesus is the only one who can break through these barriers because he is the only one who has bought us with his own blood. He is the only one who can show us his glorious wounds, the wounds that constitute the very form of his being, the being of the one who has loved us. These wounds are at the centre of this Gospel passage, from the moment that Jesus shows them to his disciples until the time that Jesus requests Thomas to feel them directly. Let us not forget that these are mortal wounds! Who can save me from my fears? Who can drag me out of a mentality that is preoccupied with saving my own life? Who can make me capable of loving to the end? The one who has loved me to the end. The one who can show me the wounds that he has suffered for me. And when he shows them to me, he does not reprove me, but salutes me, visits me, saying “Peace be with you!” Let us allow ourselves to be visited this Sunday by the risen Christ who places himself before us in an unconditional way, without reproval, giving me a new mission and a new pattern of behaviour As the Father has sent him, so he sends us. What binds us to the risen Lord? We are bound to him when we allow him to love us in the closed chambers inside us and therefore allow him to open us up. It is from this action of Jesus within us that our new actions take their beginning.

Once we have been visited by the risen Lord, then our actions take on a completely different nature

Sometimes we try to point out to people whose lives have gone astray that they ought to change in certain ways. But this is not how Jesus deals with us. He visits us first. He loves us first. He enters into the region of our fears and warms us from within. It is pointless thinking that someone will be able to live a new life if there has not been radical change in the interior of the person where their actions begin. The good news of the unconditional love of Jesus for us must enter into this closed chamber deep in our interiors. We must experience this love that allowed itself to be massacred for us. If we do not, then our actions might well appear to be righteous, but they will be based upon fear. Actions that seem good are often done ultimately out of self-interest, or to make ourselves feel good and just. The actions that arise from someone who has been visited by life itself are completely different in nature. The life of the resurrection is the life that has conquered death and emptiness and that has no contradictions within it. Once this life has entered into the deepest part of our being, then we can start to perform new acts, and to bestow onto others the pardon that God has given to us. We can remit sins; we can believe even when we cannot see; we can say, like Thomas, that we have placed our hands in the Lord’s side, that we have touched the risen Christ who has loved us. Once someone has been loved on this level, then his life changes. His way of being, thinking, and experiencing the world becomes different.

We need to touch the wounds of the risen Lord, not just believe in resurrection on an intellectual level

We must regret the fact that often we have made a pretence of having had this experience. We approach the issue of the resurrection only on an intellectual level, thinking that an understanding of what Jesus has done is sufficient. But it is not. We must allow ourselves to be loved. We must allow our deepest fears to be touched. Until this happens, all of our sentiments about the resurrection are mere chatter. Until we are visited on the inside by the risen Lord, until we have allowed ourselves to experience his scandalous love, then we remain only babblers about the resurrection, and not resurrected ourselves. We remain people who believe in something out of an intellectual conviction and not out of experience. This Sunday’s Gospel cries aloud our need to touch the wounds of Christ and to allow him to enter into our fears.

Easter Sunday (April 8th  2012)   

Gospel: Mark 16:1-8

Translated from a homily by Don Fabio Rosini, broadcast on Vatican Radio

Questions raised by this passage from the Gospel

1 The Gospel tells us that the risen Lord can be found in Galilee. What represents Galilee for us today?

2. The risen Lord has vanished from the tomb. How can the disciples find him again? By staying at the tomb, or by following him? What does it mean to follow him?

3. How can I be sure that the Lord is truly risen? By looking at an empty tomb, or by encountering the Lord in my mission, my vocation?

4. In what ways have I already encountered the Lord in my life? Can this help me discern what his mission for me consists in?

"We must learn how to meet Jesus, we must discover how to follow his tracks. The risen Lord is met in mission; he is met in Galilee, he is met in the way that we are called, and when we are faithful to that call. The Lord is truly risen. How can we be sure of this? By entering into our mission. By faithfully following our vocation. This is where we find the Lord alive. This is where we find him in power."

The stone that weighs on us and prevents us from achieving the fullness of life has already been rolled away!

This year we read the most ancient proclamation of Easter in the sparse and enigmatic form given to it by the Gospel of Matthew. The women go with aromatic oils to the tomb to anoint the body of Jesus. This is an act of love towards a dead one, and it seems to be the last sad chapter of a story that ended in bitterness and death. They go at daybreak, expecting to be confronted with a problem to be resolved. A heavy stone had been placed at the tomb and they ask themselves who will remove it. But when they arrive, they find that the problem has already been resolved: the stone has been laid back and the women have an open door in front of them.

With the Lord Jesus, the tomb takes on a new meaning. A tomb is usually something that represents stark finality. The expression "dead and buried" is used to refer to situations that are hopeless or definitively ended. But a tomb that is empty is no longer a tomb in the normal sense of the word. It is no longer a place of arrival but has become a place of departure. This is the surprising discovery that awaits the women on Sunday morning. The redemptive mission of Jesus transforms death into a point of departure, not the ultimate destination of human existence. The stone that seals the tomb represents that which is not humanly resolvable. Who can remove the stone from the tomb of human existence? Who can save humanity from its desperation, emptiness and finality?

It is important to recognize that the stone has already been rolled back for all of us. Despite its great size, the great slab that weighs on the human person and prevents him from obtaining the fullness of life has already been removed by someone else.

Resurrection makes us fearful because it challenges us to abandon the self-preserving practices by which we "anoint" our old way of life.

The women go to the tomb and do not find the dead one, but someone else, a youth, someone who has life in abundance. He is dressed in a white baptismal robe. The women are terrified, but we should not be surprised by this. Even great beauty can make us fearful. Even the good news of the Resurrection can scare us. We attach ourselves tenaciously to our old way of life. Who is able to allow himself to be carried along completely by the new existence bestowed by the Lord? Who is able to abandon the daily strategies of self-preservation within which we entomb ourselves?

The Gospel begins with the call of the disciples in Galilee and finishes with an exhortation to return to Galilee to find the Risen Lord.

This shining, life-filled youth appears in the saddest and most macabre of places, and has a message: "Do not be afraid! You are searching for Jesus of Nazareth who was crucified. He is risen and is no longer here. Tell the disciples, especially Peter, that he is going ahead of you to Galilee". The Gospel began with the call of the disciples in Galilee, and it ends with the unresolved search for Jesus who is not in the expected place and will instead meet them again in Galilee.

Jesus is not in the expected place, and in fact has gone to an entirely different region altogether. The women are traumatized. Something is not right here! A man who has been crucified, tortured in a barbaric way, humiliated, stripped of his very existence, has left the tomb? He is on the move and we are expected to follow him? And in fact this is the very point that the Gospel wishes to make! Jesus has gone ahead and if we are ever to find him again then we must follow him. This was the experience of the early church and it is what Easter continues to proclaim today. The tomb of Jesus is not a place to linger but a place that we pass through as we pursue the Risen Lord.

How can we find the risen Lord? By accepting our mission.

Where must we go to find Jesus? Where can we attain a complete experience of the resurrection? Through following him. By going where he leads. Galilee was the place where the disciples were called. The women who went to anoint Jesus had come from Galilee. They followed him and now they are asked to return to the place where they were called. Peter and the disciples must go to the initial departure point of their mission, the place of their vocation. This is how the Gospel of Mark ended in its original form, with a new beginning. And, you know, it is a good thing that it does not simply end by stating that he is risen, but by telling us where we must go to meet him again. And the Gospel does even more than this. It is better to be told how to meet somewhere than where to meet them. We must learn how to meet Jesus, we must discover how to follow his tracks. The risen Lord is met in mission; he is met in Galilee, he is met in the way that we are called, and when we are faithful to that call. The Lord is truly risen. How can we be sure of this? By entering into our mission. By faithfully following our vocation. This is where we find the Lord alive. This is where we find him in power.
This Easter let all of us launch ourselves towards Galilee, each to his own Galilee. Everyone has his own mission, his own way in which he has been called to be faithful. The Lord shows himself to be risen when we are on his heels. He wants all of us to have that personal experience of him that comes through living the particular mission that he entrusts to each of us.


How can I discern where my Galilee lies?
A small problem arises: What exactly is my mission? It is a grave issue if a Christian is not aware of his mission. It is a serious matter if we do not know where our Galilee lies, because in that case we do not know how to encounter the risen Lord. Being a Christian does not consist in the constant accumulation of sacraments. Christianity is not about reception, but is about activity. It is about journey, about going to Galilee, about following the Lord Jesus closely. If someone does not know where Galilee lies, then he must pray seriously about it. There is a Galilee for each of us and it is inextricably linked to the way in which God speaks to us personally. Galilee is where Jesus has already appeared in our lives, as in the case of the disciples. We must look at our existence and ask where the Lord is present in it. Where are the footsteps and traces of the Lord in my daily existence? To know where Jesus has gone, I must ask where he has already been in my life. It is there, most probably, that my Galilee lies.