theROCK

He is Not Hear

“He is not here, he has been raised” (Luke 24:6a). Of all the passages in the bible this is one of my two favorites, the other being the exchange between Jesus and the “good thief.” “He is not here” is short, simple, direct . . . and life changing. It is both mysterious and awe inspiring at the same time. These words of Jesus’ absence from the tomb are meant to comfort.

The first proclamation of the Risen Lord is especially consoling to me and I would venture to others who have lost a loved one. For me, she is not here is a recurrent reality that I still grieve over, even though it has been several years. This time of year, coinciding with the brief illness my wife suffered before her death, always brings me to a special place of attention. Some years, clouds and darkness reign and some years, warmth and sunlight permeate my thoughts. This year, as I pondered the paschal mystery, I stopped on, “He is not here.” It is because He is not here that I can live in joy and hope this Easter season.

Jesus conquered death and, in doing this, opened a way for all who grieve, who have etched into their daily lives that he or she is not here, to experience a place of hope and joy. Because “He is not here,” we can live in this world with a sense of destiny. We do not have to worry as to what will happen to us, what is to become of us. Easter is a time when everything both in heaven and on earth cries out with  new life—a new life we have all been granted as children of God.

I don’t know how the season of Lent has been for you but, from wherever you are coming, it is time to put aside anything that keeps you from rejoicing that He is not here. Step out into the bright morning sunlight and feel its warmth. It is a gift from God, that Jesus our savior and our Lord is not here…He has risen.

Forgiveness

Forgiveness. That word has probably caused more anxiety, anger, bewilderment, and peace than any other word we use . . . even love. Forgiveness is the “meat and potatoes” of relationship. It is the glue that bonds every heart-felt association we have. How often have we really forgiven someone? How often have we had something terribly important taken from us, and then struggle to forgive the person who has taken it? How often do we equate forgiveness with being weak instead of being strong? How does letting go of the hurt that someone has wrought upon us, produce the only real healing.

I have no specific answer to the many questions I pose. What I do have to offer as a solution is an image, Jesus on the Cross, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” Have you ever been able to say that in full honesty? My answer when I am asked for the meaning of heart wrenching event questions is Jesus on the Cross.
I don’t have polished words to ease someone’s distress, all I have for them is the Cross. If Jesus died for everyone, then he died for those who loved him and stood at the foot of the cross as well as the person who hammered the nails into his flesh. Jesus gave us the meaning, the substance of forgiveness. He did so not just as an example, but as a participation in our action of forgiveness. I want you to understand that the Real Presence of Jesus that we are expounding on in the Eucharist Revival means that in every act of forgiveness, God is there to give us the necessary grace to really forgive, to really forgive and the forget. If you ever have trouble forgiving, just look at the Crucifix. In that mystery is your answer.

Eyelash to Eyelash with God

I don’t know if you have ever been lost. I have had two terrifying experiences with being lost. One when I was a child. Our whole brood of eight children were being taken to downtown Chicago to visit Santa. We came on the train (called the “L”). It stops at the basement floor of Marshall Fields. Santa was on the fifth floor. We all piled into the elevator along with a boatload of people. I am closest to the doors. The doors open on the ground floor, many depart, including me. I was five years old. Next thing I know I am following the river of people out onto State Street. I am in the middle of the street with everyone else, when a firm hand grips my arm, my mother. Somehow, she noticed I had departed and leaving the others, she ran to get me. To this very day, I have a fear of being left.

My second experience was losing my youngest daughter for a very short time in the State fair creampuff building. Like me, she just wandered off into the next building. I quickly found her, but there were painful seconds of pure panic.

Today’s readings resurrected those feelings of being lost and how lost we would be without God. Hearing today’s words from Jesus that we are so valued, removes any fear. In a homily a while ago, I spoke of how Jesus reconciled us to the Father. The word reconcile comes from the Greek expression which means eyelash-to-eyelash. Jesus has brought us eyelash-to-eyelash with the Father. That is how deeply we are loved. Spend a little time this week alone with God. I don’t mean in prayer or even in contemplation. I mean spend a little time eyelash-to-eyelash with God, if you can. See if an intimacy this close doesn’t remove any fear you have, any fear about anything.