Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity

Bishop Emeritus Roger Foys

Guest

When I was studying the Italian language, the textbook (this was before Rosetta Stone) introduced a new proverb at the top of the page of each chapter. One that came to mind as I prepared for the Solemnity of Trinity Sunday is Ogni trino e Perfetto. Literally the meaning is “Everything that comes in threes is perfect.” We know the proverb as: “All good things come in threes.”

The doctrine of the Most Trinity is a mystery — One God in three Divine Persons. Yet, there are several references to it in the Scriptures. As Jesus was taking leave of his apostles as he ascended into heaven, he leaves them with a clear instruction: “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.” (Matt 28:1920)

This was, so to speak, Jesus’ farewell, his last wishes.

Note that he doesn’t say to baptize only in his name, or only in the Father’s name but rather in the name of Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. This was, of course, before the Father and Son had sent the Holy Spirit upon the disciples as he had promised: “I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Advocate to be with you always, the Spirit of truth which the world cannot accept because it neither sees nor knows it. But you know it, because it remains with you and will be in you. I will not leave you orphans.” (John 14:16-19)

And so, the Father, who is the creator and the Son, who is the redeemer, send the Holy Spirit who is the counselor and comforter and who remains with the Church until the end of time.

Another word to describe the Holy Spirit is paraclete, from the Greek parakletos. It means one who is sent to help. And this paraclete is with us until the end of time to be comfort and counsel, especially in times of difficulty or doubt. But Father and Son and Holy Spirit are one, bound together in love and unity. And from them we learn to live in that same love and unity.

In the early Church people were attracted to the followers of Jesus because they saw how they loved one another. Christians looked after each other, cared for each other, especially those who needed their help such as the widows, the orphans, the poor, the aged. There was no want in those early Christian communities, no one went hungry.

Their love was genuine, it was honest, it was not exclusive. They took seriously the words of Jesus to his disciples: “A new commandment I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” (John 13:34-35)

The early Christians were also known by their unity and community. “They devoted themselves to the teaching of the apostles and to the communal life, to the breaking of the bread and to the prayers. Awe came upon everyone … and every day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.” (Acts 2: 42, 43, 46)

So, perhaps it is true that good things come in threes. The Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit continue to be an example to us of how we should live, about how we should profess our faith, about how we should be united as one and love each other as Jesus, who gave his life for us so that we might have new life, eternal life!

Most Rev. Roger J. Foys, D.D. is Bishop Emeritus of the Diocese of Covington, Ky.

Pentecost Sunday

Father Phillip W. DeVous

Guest

The novelist Saul Bellow, in an interview in the early 1980s, anticipated the coming era we now inhabit, which many describe as the “post-truth” era. With great brio of description Bellow called the emerging era and its ethos the “moronic inferno.” The moronic inferno was described as a situation where “there was too much of everything … too much history and culture to keep track of … too much news … too much influence, too many guys who tell you to be as they are, and all of this hugeness, abundance, turbulence, Niagara Falls torment.”

When I contemplate the scene from the Acts of the Apostles, where all the various peoples with their various languages were gathered, Bellow’s image of the moronic inferno is always in my mind. The cacophony of sounds is easy to imagine, as is the confusion likely generated by such a gathering. For me, this scene is stand-in for the “Niagara Falls torment” of the cross currents of assertions, information, news, manufactured emotions and statements we are daily subjected to, which make it hard to know what is true and worthy of attention.

I often stop and ask myself the question: What in the world is going on? Who is to be believed? What is true?

I imagine the multitudes gathered on the day of Pentecost had a similar feeling.

On the day of Pentecost, amidst the confusion of the gathered peoples, “there appeared to them tongues of fire, which came to rest on each one of them (the Apostles). And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in different tongues, as the Spirit enabled them to proclaim.”

All of those who heard the apostles proclaim somehow began to understand what the Apostles were saying about the mighty acts of God. Are we to presume the Holy Spirit had turned the preachers into human simultaneous translation machines? I think not. The Holy Spirit enabled the apostles to speak to the people the universal language of Truth. A language that spoke directly to the hearts of the people.

The Holy Spirit is the Advocate whose mission it is to effect within us a living faith founded on the most central reality of the cosmos itself: Jesus Christ is Lord. It is Jesus who is the Alpha and the Omega. It is Jesus who is the source, center and summit of our lives.

The Holy Spirit, to establish the Lordship of Jesus Christ within us, IS the language and reality of truth spoken to us. The Spirit sees to it that we really do know Jesus Christ. Then, the Spirit sees to it that the truth we know becomes the mission we live: “Grant, we pray, O Lord, that, as promised by your Son, the Holy Spirit may reveal to us more abundantly the hidden mystery of this sacrifice and graciously lead us into all truth.”

Being established in the truth of Christ’s Lordship gives us the discernment and the grace to live with integrity and truthfulness over and against the moronic inferno that confuses and consumes everything. Yet, the gift of the Holy Spirit, descending as tongues of fire, reminds us that we have been given the fire of truth that “burns out” the fires of confusion, falsehood and the disorienting torrent of “too much” that washes over us daily.

Increasingly, I find myself praying to the Holy Spirit to teach me the truth I need to know today to do God’s will. I ask the Holy Spirit to grace me with the truth I need to love as Christ commands, today. I pray throughout the day that the Holy Spirit would take me through the confusion and the madness that can invade even the simplest interactions. I pray the Holy Spirit would give me the wisdom I need to lead others into all truth.

The Holy Spirit, in communicating the language of spiritual truth to us, has sent us disciples on a mission of truth to the world around us. Through that same Spirit we douse the flames and clear the noxious fumes created by the moronic inferno. Let us have every confidence that Jesus Christ is still standing in our midst, that the fire of truth still burns, and that His words to us remain both true and vital: “Peace be with you.”

Father Phillip W. DeVous is the pastor of St. Charles Parish, Flemingsburg, and St. Rose Parish, May’s Lick.

Ascension of the Lord

Father Stephen Bankemper

Guest

We come this Sunday to our diocese’s celebration of the solemnity of The Ascension of the Lord. It is a fascinating event that can be forgotten in our everyday language.

How often, for example, have you heard someone speak of the “Passion, Death and Resurrection” of the Lord, as opposed to the “Passion, Death, Resurrection and Ascension” of the Lord? The first is a far more common phrase. Yet the Ascension of our Lord is truly a pivotal event: with the Lord’s return to the Father his earthly ministry in his body ends and the ministry of the apostles (and, by extension, the ministry of the Church) begins.

This article will focus on the twofold meaning of the Ascension for us in the Church: the hope and mandate that come from it.

The hope that the Ascension awakens in us is the hope that we, too, can “ascend” one day with Jesus to the Father. It is heard in all the prayers of the Mass and in one of the readings.

In the Collect we pray: “. . . for the Ascension of Christ your Son is our exaltation, and, where the Head has gone before in glory, the Body is called to follow in hope.”

The Prayer Over the Offerings does not use the actual word ‘hope,’ but the idea is there: “. . . grant, we pray, that through this most holy exchange we, too, may rise up to the heavenly realms.”

Finally, in the Prayer After Communion we pray, “. . . grant . . . that Christian hope may draw us onward to where our nature is united with you.”

The Church also gives us a short section of St. Paul’s letter to the Ephesians that not only mentions our hope of being with Christ in heaven, but also entices us, draws us, one might say, by its very description: “May the eyes of your hearts be enlightened, that you may know what is the hope that belongs to his call, what are the riches of glory in his inheritance among the holy ones . . .”

It is vital that we understand how the Church uses the word “hope.” The way we use the word in ordinary speech, we might just as easily and accurately exchange for it the word “wish”: “I hope it does not rain tomorrow,” “I hope she shows up on time,” “I hope there are tickets left for the movie.”

This is not what the Church means by hope. The Church’s meaning is expressed in paragraph 1817 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church: “Hope is the theological virtue by which we desire the kingdom of heaven and eternal life as our happiness, placing our trust in Christ’s promises and relying not on our own strength, but on the help of the grace of the Holy Spirit.”

Notice the parts of this definition: hope is a theological virtue — in other words, it does not even come from us but is a gift from God — and we rely, not on ourselves for its fulfillment, but on Christ’s promises and the grace of the Holy Spirit. And, we can add on this feast, on Christ’s first taking our human nature into the heavenly realms.

As Martin Luther wrote in his hymn, A Mighty Fortress Is Our God (Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott), “Did we in our own strength confide, our striving would be losing,/ Were not the right Man on our side, the Man of God’s own choosing.”

Pope Francis expressed this beautifully in one of his general audiences: “The Ascension of Jesus into heaven acquaints us with this deeply consoling reality on our journey: in Christ, true God and true man, our humanity was taken to God. Christ opened the path to us. If we entrust our life to him, if we let ourselves be guided by him, we are certain to be in safe hands, in the hands of our Savior.” (General Audience, 17 April 2013)

The Ascension of our Lord also brings a mandate, as we hear in the Gospel. Jesus has redeemed the world, reconciling it to the Father, and created the Church. He now entrusts to his Church a mission: “All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.” (Matt 28:18-20)

If the hope of eternal life with the Father cannot be realized without entrusting our life to Jesus, as Francis said, then those who know Him must proclaim Him to others.

Jesus’ command to make disciples “of all nations” may sound so broad as to seem to apply only to “the Church” as we often mean it, the great institution into which it has grown, but if it is to mean something to each of us — we individually are part of the Church’s constitution — we must see something more specific in Jesus’ words.

Instead of “all nations,” we might substitute “all people” or, even better, “every person.” In other words, the Church’s mission — and we are part of the mission — is to make disciples of our sister and brother, if necessary, our next-door neighbor, our boss, our co-workers and cousins. Not necessarily first by proselytizing, but by the “strangeness” of our Christian life.

Last Sunday we heard from Peter’s first letter: “Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope.” (Pt 3:15) Why would someone ask about our lives if they were not different from theirs?

So, Jesus’ command to his apostles before he ascends to his Father becomes an exhortation and command to us as well: live a life that draws the world to me, that all may know “the hope that belongs to his call, what are the riches of glory” that await all who give their lives to our Lord.

The Ascension of the Lord — our hope and our mandate.

Father Stephen Bankemper is pastor, St. Catherine of Siena Parish, Ft. Thomas, Ky.

Sixth Sunday of Easter

Father Michael Elmlinger

Guest

“Ego sum via, veritas, et vita.” These words we hear in the Gospel for the Fifth Sunday in Easter: “I am the way, the truth and the life” should bring great comfort to all of us. When I’m traveling, I have two great fears: One, breaking down in the middle of nowhere, and two, getting lost. I find those of you out there who like the “adventure of getting lost in a new place” odd — and a bit nuts!

Sadly, it is too easy to break down and get lost in this life — and I’m not talking about traveling. I’m speaking of the spiritual life. The burdens of life can sometimes feel overwhelming. The stresses we experience and the anxiety they bring can unfortunately lead to depression and even despair. That is, unless we maintain that spiritual engine. And we do this with Jesus! Jesus has to be everything in our lives. It is the truth that no matter how difficult a day has been, or the stresses we have endured are, or even the sins we have committed, God still loves us. Our lives are valuable and precious. The great deceiver is the one who places doubts of this truth in our minds. We have been intentionally made in love, by love, to be loved and to love! Saint Augustine reminds us that: “God loves each of us as if there were only one of us.”

It is this love of God, which we encounter in the very person of Jesus Christ who brings about authentic life. Jesus is life — in him and through him — we have all been made. And to live in him, to live in love, brings eternal life — that for which we have been made!!!

But, sin is a reality of being human. It is true, none of us has to sin, but in my experience we all do. We turn inward. We allow the ego to take over, we place all our confidence and effort and trust in ourselves. When this happens (even if its just through “tiny” sins) we get lost, because we have stumbled and veered off the path which is Jesus who leads us on the way to Heaven.

My friends, we don’t walk in darkness, because Jesus is also the light. In himself he dispels the darkness of error and of death; and illuminates the path of the righteous.

Jesus is the WAY and the TRUTH and the LIFE. We don’t have to find him, we have to allow ourselves to be found. He is always there to guide and to teach and to experience abundance of life!

Father Daniel Schomaker is pastor, Blessed Sacrament Parish, Ft. Mitchell and director, Office of Worship and Liturgy for the Diocese of Covington, Ky.

Fifth Sunday of Easter

Father Daniel Schomaker

Guest

“Ego sum via, veritas, et vita.” These words we hear in the Gospel for the Fifth Sunday in Easter: “I am the way, the truth and the life” should bring great comfort to all of us. When I’m traveling, I have two great fears: One, breaking down in the middle of nowhere, and two, getting lost. I find those of you out there who like the “adventure of getting lost in a new place” odd — and a bit nuts!

Sadly, it is too easy to break down and get lost in this life — and I’m not talking about traveling. I’m speaking of the spiritual life. The burdens of life can sometimes feel overwhelming. The stresses we experience and the anxiety they bring can unfortunately lead to depression and even despair. That is, unless we maintain that spiritual engine. And we do this with Jesus! Jesus has to be everything in our lives. It is the truth that no matter how difficult a day has been, or the stresses we have endured are, or even the sins we have committed, God still loves us. Our lives are valuable and precious. The great deceiver is the one who places doubts of this truth in our minds. We have been intentionally made in love, by love, to be loved and to love! Saint Augustine reminds us that: “God loves each of us as if there were only one of us.”

It is this love of God, which we encounter in the very person of Jesus Christ who brings about authentic life. Jesus is life — in him and through him — we have all been made. And to live in him, to live in love, brings eternal life — that for which we have been made!!!

But, sin is a reality of being human. It is true, none of us has to sin, but in my experience we all do. We turn inward. We allow the ego to take over, we place all our confidence and effort and trust in ourselves. When this happens (even if its just through “tiny” sins) we get lost, because we have stumbled and veered off the path which is Jesus who leads us on the way to Heaven.

My friends, we don’t walk in darkness, because Jesus is also the light. In himself he dispels the darkness of error and of death; and illuminates the path of the righteous.

Jesus is the WAY and the TRUTH and the LIFE. We don’t have to find him, we have to allow ourselves to be found. He is always there to guide and to teach and to experience abundance of life!

Father Daniel Schomaker is pastor, Blessed Sacrament Parish, Ft. Mitchell and director, Office of Worship and Liturgy for the Diocese of Covington, Ky.

Fourth Sunday of Easter

Father Phillip DeVous

Guest

Just a few short years ago, a moral panic cascaded through the chattering classes, sacred and secular, as they announced we had arrived at a “post-truth” society. There was more than a little truth to their concern, however tardy the recognition. Our post-truth reality, however, long predates the recent issues and developments the talking heads found so unnerving.

It occurs to me that our post-truth condition has morphed into an anti-truth metastasis. We deceive ourselves if we think the “natural” state of mankind is truth. Truth, in its greatest and most significant sense, is always a grace and Revelation. This is an uncomfortable reality to contend with in our age dominated by pragmatism as the highest good, which tends to suffocate the sense of the spiritual.

Recently, I was reading parts of an excellent biography of Václev Havel. Havel was an intellectual, playwright, anti-Communist dissident, the last President of Czechoslovakia, and then the first President of the Czech Republic after Czechoslovakia split up. He was a man who, by his temperament and the circumstances of the Communist domination of his nation, was disposed to thinking seriously about what was true when all around him was dominated by lies, especially lies born of convenience. He was a man who risked everything to avoid living by lies. In the biography, I encountered Havel’s arresting exhortation: “Therefore, faithful Christian, seek Truth, listen to the Truth, hear Truth, love Truth, speak Truth … until death”

The seeking of Truth should be the morning star of the life of a Catholic. Our Blessed Lord clearly thinks we are capable of the Truth when He says, “my sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they know me.” This is a call to a living relationship with Truth Incarnate in the person of Jesus Christ and his body, the Church. Our Holy Communion with Jesus Christ is built upon the conviction that truth is something that can be known, received, understood and lived by us — that is why it is both a revelation and a grace!

This is no small thing to have in an anti-truth age. The anti-truth society we inhabit and whose air we breathe is informed by the paradoxical assumption that there is no truth of any kind, while at the same time presuming and demanding that one’s every emotion be recognized as an absolute truth, requiring total submission from everyone around me. That is a pretty good summary of our contemporary situation of anti-truth.

Without an orientation towards truth, we cannot “know that the Lord is God” because we cannot receive the grace or see the Revelation that Truth brings. It should come as no surprise that as the grasp of the of post-truth civilization tightens, with ever more people submitting to the power of anti-truth, that we would see less true goodness because we think truth a fiction. The result is that beauty and authentic love become ever more difficult for us to perceive because we have lost the vision of God.

In ways we perhaps we never could have anticipated, this is a painful time to live, when so much appears to be false. It is in the time of the great distress of the post-truth era, and the anti-truth ferment which characterizes it, that God’s Providence has designated for us for us to live and to bear witness.

Witness to what? That God is real. That the Lord is holy. That we are his people, the flock he tends. That Christ is alive. That his word is true. That Christ remains with us. To living the Truth with integrity. We witness to the world, raising our voices, proclaiming: “Let the whole house of Israel know for certain that God has made both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified!”

How do we witness to this? We repent! We seek the forgiveness of our sins! We pray for the gifts of the Holy Spirit! We stay faithful to the Truth revealed to us in the Word of God, taught to us by the Church, and verified by the witness of the saints. We seek to live obediently to God’s commands. We stay close to Jesus Christ in His Word and the Holy Sacraments. We pray fervently and regularly. We give generously to the poor and protect the vulnerable. Fundamentally, we witness when we refuse to tell lies, no matter how comfortable, convenient, or socially acceptable the lies might seem.

Father Phillip W. DeVous is the pastor of St. Charles Borromeo, Flemingsburg and St. Rose of Lima, May’s Lick.

Third Sunday of Easter

Father Stephen Bankemper

Guest

Most Catholics know that there are two creeds we use at Mass, the Apostles’ Creed (the shorter of the two, the one most people pray at the beginning of the Rosary) and the Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed, which title we, thankfully, usually shorten to Nicene Creed. In the Nicene Creed, which we use most of the time, we pray these words: “For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate,/ he suffered death and was buried,/ and rose again on the third day/ in accordance with the Scriptures.” Many Catholics seem to understand the phrase — “in accordance with the Scriptures” — to refer to the Passion narratives in the Gospels. While that thought is not completely incorrect, the more fully correct understanding of it is that it refers to the types and prophecies in what we call the Old Testament. For instance, in Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians he wrote, “For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received, that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures, . . .” (1 Cor 15:3-4) Since Paul wrote this around the year 55, and the first Gospel was written somewhere around 65-70, Paul could not have been referring to the Gospel accounts, but was clearly referring to the Hebrew scriptures (what we call the Old Testament) he knew so well.

The fact that Paul uses the phrase and the Church incorporated it into her creed shows the importance of it, but one scholar, John Bergsma, goes even further: “The inclusion of this line, the most widely-used and recognized statement of the Christian faith, should cause us to realize this fact: that Jesus’s Passion and Resurrection fulfilled the oracles of the prophets is central to the Gospel message. (Emphasis in original.) Moreover, in the early Church, it was of considerable apologetic and evangelistic power because no other religious or political leader could claim to have fulfilled ancient prophecies in the way that Jesus had.” (THE WORD OF THE LORD: Reflections on the SUNDAY MASS READINGS for YEAR A, p.131)

We have two examples this weekend of the early Christians coming to understand Jesus’ Passion, Death and Resurrection in terms of the Old Testament narratives, types (events and people in the Old Testament that prefigure New Testament events and people, particularly Jesus), and prophecies. In the first reading, Peter helps the Jews to understand Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection through Psalm 16, and Jesus himself, in the Gospel account of the disciples on the road to Emmaus, apparently goes through all the Old Testament references to him to help the two understand the events of the previous week.

In the first reading this weekend, from the Acts of the Apostles, the Church presents Peter’s sermon after the outpouring of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. It is important to understand that the general belief of the Jews of Peter’s time was that the psalms were written by David. Psalm 16 must have been a puzzle to them, especially the line, “nor will you suffer your faithful one to undergo corruption.” But to Peter, reading the psalm through the perspective of Jesus’ death, burial and resurrection, the psalm makes complete sense, and he uses his new understanding to begin to evangelize his listeners. The psalm, Peter contends, could not be about David, because David’s tomb is yet in their midst. Rather, it is a prophecy about the Messiah and has been fulfilled in Jesus the Nazorean. You killed him, Peter says, but God raised him up. Now, “. . . because you will not abandon my soul to the netherworld,/ nor will you suffer your faithful one to undergo corruption,” makes perfect sense.

Jesus makes a similar move with the two disciples on the way to Emmaus, for even they, who knew and followed Jesus and heard him teach, had no understanding of the events they themselves witnessed. Jesus, “beginning with Moses and all the prophets, . . . interpreted to them what referred to him in all the Scriptures,” explaining why it was “necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory.” What a monologue that must have been!

All this stands as a reminder to us of the importance of the Old Testament. So many Catholics, if they read scripture at all, tend to stay with the Gospels. While it is good to read and re-read the Gospels, we can come to know Jesus through the Old Testament as well. Some passages from the Catechism of the Catholic Church may serve to encourage us:

  1. The Church, as early as apostolic times, and then constantly in her Tradition, has illuminated the unity of the divine plan in the two Testaments through typology, which discerns in God’s works of the Old Covenant prefigurations of what he accomplished in the fullness of time in the person of his incarnate Son.
  2. Christians therefore read the Old Testament in the light of Christ crucified and risen. [And] the New Testament has to be read in the light of the Old. Early Christian catechesis made constant use of the Old Testament. As an old saying put it, the New Testament lies hidden in the Old and the Old Testament is unveiled in the New. [St. Augustine]
  3. The Church “forcefully and specifically exhorts all the Christian faithful . . . to learn ‘the surpassing knowledge of Jesus Christ,’ by frequent reading of the divine Scriptures. ‘Ignorance of the Scriptures is ignorance of Christ.’” [Phil 3:8 and St. Jerome]

If you are new to the Old Testament, try this: read a passage that the Church uses in the liturgy (the first reading or the psalm) and ask the Holy Spirit to show Jesus to you in that passage. Then ask yourself, how does this apply to Jesus, or how does Jesus fulfill this passage. You might be surprised at how easily you can come to know Him in this manner of reading.

Father Stephen Bankemper is pastor, St. Catherine of Siena Parish, Ft. Thomas, Ky.

Easter Sunday

Father Daniel Schomaker

Guest

Christos Anesti! Alithos Anesti! This is a customary greeting of the Eastern Churches on Easter — hence why it is said in Greek. Instead of saying “Hi” on Easter Sunday, you say: “Christ is Risen!” and the response is “Truly he is Risen!”
We gather today to celebrate Jesus overcoming the tomb. Death was not in the original plan of creation. Death is the consequence of sin — specifically the sin of our first parents, in their desire (via the temptation of the devil) to make themselves God. What they didn’t realize is that they were already like God, for they had been made in his image and likeness. Their pride unfortunately got the better of them and had them cast out of paradise and put them at odds with the Almighty One.
Jesus entered into human history so as to bring about reconciliation between God and humanity. By his Passion (suffering and death) he took upon himself the consequence of our sin. And in his Resurrection from the dead, he restored humanity to its rightful place in creation. Paradise is once again opened for us!
On this Easter Sunday, let us give particular thanks and praise and adoration and glory to Our God, who never abandons us — ever!
Father Daniel Schomaker is pastor, Blessed Sacrament Parish, Ft. Mitchell and director, Office of Worship and Liturgy for the Diocese of Covington, Ky.

Sixth Sunday of Lent

Bishop Emeritus Roger Foys

Guest

Holy Week. The holiest week of the year for all Christians. A week filled with emotion. We move from joy to wonder, to betrayal, to denial, to grief and back to joy.  We relive that week during which Jesus would suffer and die. We walk with him, as it were, the path to his passion and death. But we begin with joy.

On Palm Sunday, Jesus was welcomed with great fanfare into Jerusalem. Throngs of people lined the streets and shouted his name. Hosanna, they called to the Son of David! What exhilaration must’ve filled the air! The Lord had arrived! The Savior was to save his people! But, unfortunately, that joy would not last. By the end of the week, it would turn to grief and sorrow.

On Holy Thursday, Jesus dined with his apostles to celebrate the Passover meal. During this meal, he would wash the feet of his apostles, a ritual ordinarily conducted by a servant. Jesus, the Son of God, stooped down to wash the feet of his apostles — and when he was finished, he would tell them that what he had just done, they were to do for each other.

This was a sign of His love, His humility. He wanted his disciples to do likewise. This is the kind of community he desired his followers to live — one of service, one of love. The apostles must have wondered what all this meant.

Further on Holy Thursday, Jesus would bless and break the bread, would bless the wine and proclaim that this was his body and his blood and that his apostles were to do this in memory of him. Notice, he didn’t say this was a symbol or a sign of his Body and Blood. He said this IS my body, this Is my blood. And so, he gave us the Eucharist to sustain us on our journey, to strengthen us amid the vicissitudes of life. Thus, was given to us the gift of the Eucharist and of the Priesthood. It was a marvelous wonder!

But then came the betrayal. Judas, one of the disciples of Jesus, sold him to those who wanted to kill him. And he betrayed Jesus with a kiss. With a kiss, a sign of love, a sign of friendship.

And once Jesus was taken away, his most trusted disciple, Peter, would deny him — not once, not twice, but three times. He proclaimed that he didn’t know Jesus and was certainly not one of his followers.

The next day, Good Friday, we recall the passion and death of Jesus on the cross. What grief must his followers have experienced. What sorrow must have filled his mother, Mary, as she beheld her beloved son beaten and bruised as he carried his cross to Golgotha, the place of his death. What emptiness filled the earth on that dreadful day.

On Holy Saturday, the disciples of Jesus must have experienced that loss. They had thrown their lot in with Jesus. They had given up everything to follow him. And now, it had all come crashing down. Would they ever experience joy again?

What can we learn from this Holy Week as we walk with Jesus?

We have all at some point in our lives experienced the joy that the apostles must have felt on that Palm Sunday when Jesus was welcomed to Jerusalem — that exhilarating feeling that we would like to bask in for the rest of our lives. But we know that the joys of this world are fleeting, that our true joy — the joy that will last — can only be found in the Lord and in our obedience to His word. When life gets difficult, it is good to remember the joys we’ve experienced and to thank God for them. We also know that life is made up of joys and sorrows, of good times and bad, of success and failure. So, we do not lose hope, we do not give up or give in.

There are also times in our life that we experience wonder just as the apostles did when Jesus washed their feet and when he gave us the Eucharist and the Priesthood. They might not have understood at that moment all that these gifts of Jesus implied, but they accepted them, knowing that they were acts of love, acts of friendship. When we experience this kind of wonder in life, we give thanks to God for providing it for us. We have experiences that we don’t always understand, but it is enough to understand that God provides these moments for us because He loves us.

Betrayal, unfortunately, is sometimes a part of our lives. Perhaps we’ve been betrayed by a spouse, a friend, a co-worker, a neighbor. A relationship that we imagined would last forever suddenly ends. We are left stunned, we don’t understand. How could this happen? What or who caused it? Is it irrevocable? Was it me? Did I do something wrong? It seems to be a pain too difficult to bear. How will we ever survive? When these moments happen, we remember Jesus and His betrayal by Judas, by one he trusted, one he chose, one he loved. We will survive, we will conquer the grief, the hurt, even the anger. We pray to the Lord Jesus, who experienced the betrayal of one he loved, and ask Him to ease the pain, to ease the hurt, to heal the emptiness we feel at that moment.

And finally, grief. Sometimes people discount grief, as though grief is something to be embarrassed about, as though grief is a sign of weakness. Grief, believe it or not, is a byproduct of love. If we never loved, we’d never grieve. But if we never love, we never live. When someone we love dies, no matter how strong our faith is, we feel a loss, there is a void, an emptiness in our lives. The passing of a loved one leaves a hole in our hearts. You can imagine how the apostles grieved when the one in whom they had placed all their trust, all their hope, for whom they had given up everything and everyone, died. Their hopes and dreams hung on that cross with Jesus, and they saw those hopes and dreams dashed. How would they go on, how would they survive? But they did. We are blessed to know that the death of Jesus on the cross was not the end. We know the rest of the story. We know that the grief the apostles were experiencing would turn to joy when the Lord Jesus would be raised from the dead. This was not the end — it was the beginning. So too with us. When we experience grief from some significant loss, our grief can be turned into joy when we remember that Jesus died for us but that he also rose. He is with us always. This is our hope. This is our faith. This is our joy.

And so, we end as we began — with joy. The joy of Palm Sunday, the wonder and betrayal of Holy Thursday, the grief of Good Friday, the emptiness of Holy Saturday will give way to a new joy with the resurrection of Jesus Who conquers sin and the grave.

A blessed Holy Week and a joyous Easter to all!

Most Rev. Roger J. Foys, D.D. is Bishop Emeritus of the Diocese of Covington, Ky.

Fifth Sunday of Lent

Father Phillip DeVous

Guest

Every single Sunday we profess the Creed and proclaim, “I look forward to the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come, Amen.” Perhaps those words are so familiar to us that we fail to give them deep consideration. Yet, it is important to recall that prior to the coming of Jesus Christ, few in the history of the world thought that the resurrection of the dead was something even thinkable, much less a real possibility.

Faith is many things. One of the characteristics of faith, brought to us by the Holy Spirit, is that the Holy Spirit expands our sense of what reality entails in order that we might see clearly. We call such clear seeing Divine Revelation.

Nothing expands our sense of reality more than the idea of the Resurrection of the dead. The theologian, N.T. Wright writes, “Jesus’s resurrection is the beginning of God’s new project, not to snatch people away from earth to heaven, but to colonize earth with the life of Heaven” The resurrection does not invalidate the value of our present bodily life just because it will die. Rather, it shows us that what we do with, and in, our present bodily life matters because God has a great, eternal future in store for it, a purpose first revealed in his Incarnation.

To realize this glorified communion, we must contend with the lack of glory we now experience as part of our conversion from sin to sanctity; from vice to virtue; from death to life himself. St. Paul makes this clear when he says, “those who are in the flesh cannot please God. But you are not in the flesh; on the contrary, you are in the spirit, if only the Spirit of God dwells in you.”

The word “flesh,” as St. Paul uses it, does not mean the body. It means the whole of fallen and mortal nature, body and soul. And “spirit,” as used here, does not mean “soul,” but the whole of redeemed human nature now under God’s Holy Spirit. “The Holy Spirit is God. God performs miracles by the Holy Spirit,” as the theologian, Peter Kreeft explains. “That’s how he raised Jesus from the dead, and that is how he will raise us with Jesus, in Jesus, as part of his Body the Church.”

We are given pause to consider the first miracle all of us in the Church have received: the gift of faith in Jesus Christ. This is no small thing given how God has been eclipsed in contemporary life, where the ego and its desires are now paramount. As the darkness consequent of the eclipse of God rolls menacingly across the landscape of contemporary life, we can see just what a miracle the gift of faith is. It is gift that gives us a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, the light of the world.

The Holy Gospel relates that Martha and Lazarus were close friends of Jesus. Martha had a stronger intuition than most as to who Jesus was and of what he was capable. Yet, the death of her brother Lazarus was incomprehensible to her. Jesus himself was overcome with grief at his friend’s passing — he too wept. This teaches us that our suffering is not outside of God’s attention. Christ holds it before the Father. As the Eternal Son of God gazes at the Heavenly Father and the Heavenly Father gazes back, we are all seen and beheld in every aspect of our existence by God.

Before Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead, he first raises Martha’s faith from the temptation to despair spurred by grief and death. From her he elicits an act of faith in the Spirit and power of God. “Yes, Lord. I have come to believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, the one who is coming into the world.”

For a person to receive the gift of faith is a miracle greater than that of raising a corpse to life. A living person can resist Jesus; people resist faith. A dead body, however, has no power to resist Jesus.

Martha’s act of faith expands her sense of reality; of what’s possible with Jesus. Now she can then see with the eyes illumined by faith, with the gift of knowledge from the Holy Spirit. She knows who Christ is. Her revivified faith gives her confidence in Jesus’s power to restore life in ways we can perceive, as well as in ways we are not yet ready to see but will.

Father Phillip W. DeVous is the pastor of St. Charles Parish, Flemingsburg and St. Rose of Lima Parish, Mayslick, Ky.