Sixth Sunday of Easter
April 26-27, 2008
“God is With Us”

I heard the most fascinating news story earlier this week. Perhaps some of you heard it. Apparently there was a mother who, on the second story of her apartment, had opened the window to get some air. The baby’s bed was pushed against the window. When the mom turned her back for just a moment, the baby fell out and the baby fell two stories…only to be caught by a passing postal worker. But the story gets better. Apparently the postal worker was only there because she had a package that had to be delivered within this certain period of time. That’s why she was there. And not only that, but apparently she didn’t see the baby falling, but she felt the baby right when it was like brushing her hair and her shoulder and she instinctively turned and caught it. Now that is the hand of God!

And the thing, I think, that captures my heart the most about this story, besides simply imagining the joy of that mother, is the fact that forces were already in play to save that baby even before the baby fell out of the window. I call that “providence.” I call that “the hand of God.”

And that story that I heard early this week captures for me the providential will of God with us today. Because likewise I believe that forces were already in motion among us as a faith parish, as a community, prior to the Archbishop’s letter that was delivered to us last weekend. Because in our parish conversations that we had prepared for a year to have, that we successfully completed just before this letter became known to us, in those parish conversations we sharpened our ability to respectfully listen and simply “be” with each other, even when we disagreed with each other. It was a skill we needed sharpened right when we needed it. I call that “the hand of God.”

This weekend I know that people continue to be all over the place emotionally when it comes to the Archbishop’s letter on the liturgy. There are feelings of anger, denial, bargaining, despair and acceptance. And I suspect as you went 2 through the week, you probably found yourself in different spots along that all week long. And that’s okay. It’s normal, and it will continue for awhile.

But I want to tell you that during this past week, I have been awe-struck by the way you all have remained kind to one another, by the way that we have simply allowed ourselves to “be” with one another – however we’re feeling over the letter.

I’ve got to tell you, when I first caught wind of the Archbishop’s letter as it was being composed, my first reaction also was denial. I just thought it was some rumors that some priests had started. Priests start rumors all the time. But right after I got past the denial for myself, anger and fear settled in. They kind of go together. Only my anger and my fear centered not so much on the letter, but on why, of all the parishes I could be assigned to in the archdiocese, why did I have to be assigned here when that letter came out. I told the priests I live with, and I was quite serious, they’re going to beat me up. I hope they remember that crucifixion is now illegal.

But, you know, this week I have experienced nothing but kindness from everyone. The same kindness that I see you all showering one another with, knowing the pain that our brothers and sisters are in. And I find myself far from wanting to run profoundly grateful to God…an honor that I have the privilege to be with you right now. The words that keep ringing in my ears all this week have been Jesus’ words: “See how they love one another.” See how they love one another. And I can tell you, there is no other place I would want to be than right here with you right now, as I see the kindness and the love that you hold.

Unfortunately there are some outside our glass walls that may not be so kind to us, or to any who are hurting over this letter, and this concerns me. Some outside our glass walls may want to play upon a false assumption that many of us could mistakenly make, an assumption that could lead us to feeling shame. This assumption is that because we, along with every single parish of the archdiocese, are being called to a different liturgical expression than what we were doing, then what we were doing was wrong. Not so. That is a false assumption. It’s not true.

Different is simply different. There’s no right or wrong assigned to it. There is no right or wrong intended in the Archbishop’s direction. Throughout our two thousand-year pilgrimage together, our liturgy has taken various forms at various times. No one form was right or wrong. They were just different. They were different expressions that the church calls the church to. Don’t listen to anyone 3 who would tell you otherwise. Don’t listen to anyone who would tell you that what were doing was wrong. It was not.

I think it’s providential that this morning we hear St. Peter’s letter again. For like those to whom Peter first wrote these words, we might be experiencing being maligned and defamed by others for our good conduct in Christ. Our good conduct in Christ, which looks like worship that involves over 200 people for any given weekend liturgy. Our good conduct in Christ, which looks like assemblies that robustly join our 50 plus musicians every weekend in praising God in song. Our good conduct in Christ, which looks like our sharing our monetary gifts with the needy to the tune of over $142,000 in the last nine months alone. Sharing with everyone from the Schumann’s Center, the Hand in Hand Ministries, to the House of Ruth, to Eastern Area Community Ministries, Witness for Peace, and the National Coalition to Abolish the Death Penalty. Our good conduct in Christ, which looks like a parish family where no one has to be invisible. An oasis of prayer. A womb for justice.

St. Peter writes today that we should always be ready to give an explanation with gentleness and reverence to anyone who asks us for a reason for our hope. So when someone asks you for your reason to hope, tell them our reason to hope is found in our very name – God is with us.

This weekend 34 of our children celebrated their First Communion. It was a beautiful celebration. You can see the altar cloth that the children made. Take time after mass and read what they’ve written. All through mass I find myself staring at the one over there that says, “God is with us.” And all during the homily I stare at the bald guy over there holding the…. And yesterday at their First Communion celebration, the kids reflected on how our Eucharist is a visible reminder to us of Christ’s promise that He would stay with us, abide with us, be with us. The same promise we celebrate every time we gather at this table as church.

Like the baby caught by the postal worker this past week, so, too, will the pierced hands that feed our spirit today catch us. The pierced hands of the one who promises us through our thanksgiving meal, “I will not leave you orphans. I will come to you.” Those pierced hands will catch us.