The Church of the Messiah

Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my spirit upon him;…a bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench….. — Isaiah 42: 1, 3

Dear Friends,

In the Gospels, just about the only time Jesus talks about Himself, is when He tells his followers, “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” Gentleness and humility are essential if we are to know the Lord and be of service.

But our culture looks upon gentleness as weakness. The gentle don’t really inherit the earth, they say, only those who are willing to stomp on others and do whatever it takes to “get ahead.” Gentleness, they say, just doesn’t do it.

To be truly gentle requires courage. It means being willing to respond to the indifference and cruelty of others with a caring spirit. It means being willing to learn from Jesus. Think of the bruised reeds, the dimly burning wicks He met and helped. Think of Magdalene, and the recluse whom society restrained with chains, and all the lonely and rejected people whom Jesus met and loved and transformed from losers to lovers. Think of the gentleness Jesus showed to his enemies when from the cross, while they gloated over His suffering and dying, He asked the Father to forgive them. And yes, think of the gentleness Jesus showed His friends at that Easter meeting, when He greeted them. He could have told them that they were cowards for abandoning Him, but instead He gently encourages them, explains the meaning of the Scriptures to them, and shares His Spirit. Think of that special meeting by the lake, when Jesus goes for a walk with Simon Peter and shows him that He truly forgives Peter for his denial in the courtyard by entrusting him with the care of His people.

You see, it’s hard enough to be gentle with enemies, but especially difficult to be gentle with friends who hurt you.

Learn from me, Jesus says to us. A gentle spirit doesn’t just happen. It requires that we entrust our hearts to the Lord, so that He can slowly transform us, and we can find true rest for our hearts.

Peace,

Father Jerry

Dear Friends,

Morning has broken…like the first morning…when man and woman greeted the dawning day with wonder and smelled the freshness and saw the starry beauty of night give way to the soft rosy mystery of light…and looked at the world, and one another…and knew love.

But they also knew fear and helplessness, when their inability to cope caused them to grope and stumble and lose sight of the stars and curse the darkness, believing that dawn was an empty dream. They looked into empty eyes and did not know love. Then they turned away, blind and lonely. The dawn still broke, but broken men preferred the darkness, for they were afraid of the Light.

Until He came…a village carpenter who worked with earth’s wood, saw the freshness of the morning dew, and felt AT HOME. He opened His hand and His heart, for He wanted others to know love. He walked the streets, telling the blind they could see if they would learn to believe again in love; He asked the lame man if he wanted to walk (for He knew that courage is needed to walk into the unknown). HE TOUCHED LOSERS AND LEPERS AND MADE THEM LOVERS…made a money-grubbing tax collector want to give away half his money to the poor; made a proud, ambitious Peter want to wash people’s feet; made cold, callous Magdalene know once again what love really means.

For those who knew Him, fear and helplessness gave way to hope. People began to sense that their life was so much richer than the fancy food they ate or bright robes they wore…began to feel no longer like strangers but brothers and sisters; began to really touch one another; began to know once again what love really means.

It was like spring when the soft-showered earth is ripe for planting the grain which will one day nourish the bodies of men, and the trees bud proudly and the earth is full of the freshness of beauty and warmth. Love was with man and woman, and the earth-desert bloomed like a garden.

But love requires courage, and the bounds-bursting love of Jesus scared many…they turned to the darkness that they knew was more secure…better to snuff out the Light. And they tried. They mocked Him and His love, took His clothes, hung the carpenter on wood for all to see. This is what we think of your love and touching the untouchables and giving sight to the blind and hope to those who had learned where it’s really at.

Yet, even then, He loved. His friends went and hid in the darkness, afraid and lonely…until He came to them, showing them that love is stronger than death, so they need not be afraid. He had told them the night before He died: “I have given you an example…as I have loved you, so you must love one another.”

We who believe in His love still know fear and helplessness and uncertainty. But we also know His love…and so we plant our grain and touch each other and feel at home in our desert garden. We walk in darkness, stumble and rise, laugh and cry, confident in the miracle of each morning’s soft rosy mystery of light…living our lives until the dawn breaks which has no end.

Peace,

Father Jerry

Happy Feast Day to all the saints at your aptly named church. Today we rejoice in the communion of saints, joining with those who from their labors rest and praying that God will guide us in our labors and rest so that we may let God’s light shine even more brightly in our lives.

In the Beatitudes, Jesus shares with us how our hearts can be close to the heart of God.

Blessed are the poor in spirit. Blessed because not self-sufficient, not having all the answers, needing other people, needing the Lord. When we were very young, we trusted that our needs would be met. If we needed something, we would cry; when we were happy we’d laugh, good belly laughs. As we got older, and worldly-wise, we learned to control that hope, to pretend that we could go it alone, didn’t really need others. And something died in us. We began to live in a seasonless world where we laughed but not all our laughter, and cried but not all our tears. The love of Jesus calls us to TRUST GREATLY, to let down our defenses, to be vulnerable, to be poor in spirit.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Each of us learns on our pilgrimage that there is a time for mourning as well as rejoicing. We mourn when someone we love dies, for God has implanted in our hearts a strong desire that love will last forever. We believe as Christians that we never say goodbye forever, but even a temporary separation tears at our hearts. When we experience loneliness or hurt, we can become more understanding, more capable of offering sensitive, healing friendship when others are hurting.

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Perhaps, when we look out on a world where people are grasping, continually putting other people down, we find a certain resonance with the beatnik poet Ferlinghetti, who somewhat wistfully still waits “for the meek to inherit the earth without taxes, the death of nationalism, without killing anyone…and the rebirth of wonder.” Worldly culture proclaims the meek to be weak. And yet, the really meek person is no jellyfish. The only time Jesus speaks of His own personality is when He says, “Learn from me, for I am meek and gentle of heart.” Jesus spoke out and acted forcefully, kicking the money changers out of the temple, always speaking the truth, but He was so gentle with people not tearing them down, but offering a new life. I think of how gentle Jesus was with his friends in the upper room on Easter evening. He could have rightly shamed them for abandoning Him, but instead He offers them His peace, and entrusts them with an amazing ministry. It’s only by our gentleness and reverence that we help one another grow. It’s only when we are truly gentle that we feel truly at home on this good earth.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. We are all hungry, never satisfied. We need bread; we need friends; we need meaning; and all the bread, friends, and meaning we enjoy whet our appetite for more life. And Jesus came, saw our hunger, and wanted to give us food that would truly calm our restless hearts. He knew that we would only be fully alive when our hunger was directed at meeting the real needs of others, and so, when the crowds pressed upon him that day in the desert, He said to His friends, “give them something to eat.” We know the story, how they wanted to send the crowds away; how overwhelmed and inadequate they felt. We know that Jesus used their limited resources to provide a nourishing meal. To a hungry world, Jesus says to us, “Give them something to eat.” In sharing our food, our lives, our deepest hunger will be sated.

Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. Mercy is a free gift. And it is a gift that sets us free. How sad it is to waste our life by hanging on to anger, to nurture grudges, which keep us from really enjoying life. The irony is that if people really want to cripple us, they succeed if we let anger harden our hearts. Do we realize when we pray the Lord’s Prayer that we are asking God to forgive us only if we are willing to forgive others? How happy are those who see beyond their pride, who accept themselves and have learned to laugh at how pretentious and selfish we all can be…willing in so many ways to turn the other cheek, without making a big deal of it. How joyful when we accept that we are really forgiven and called to share that amazing mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. To be pure in heart is like being in love. When we truly love someone, we admire and delight in that person, for herself. We treasure that person, not for personal gain, not in order to …but with a sense of wonder. In a world where manipulating others, comparing ourselves with others blinds us to the beauty of this good earth and the presence of God, we ask God to free us from complex motivations and selfishness so that we can understand that this creation is truly meant to be God’s love story.

Blessed are the peace makers, for they will be called children of God. When Jesus offered his Easter shalom to His friends, He showed them the wounds in His hands. The place He wanted them to experience didn’t come easily, but through suffering love. We become peacemakers only when we too are willing to take the pain and hurt of others and return love. There is no other way in this broken world. We can be thankful for any wounds we bear, for they witness that we are children of God. May each of us live the awesome prayer of Francis of Assisi, “Lord, make us instruments of your peace. Where there is hatred let us sow love….”

Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. When we speak truth in a world where people consider truth the lie, I prefer to believe, when we stand up for what is right in a world which considers goodness little more than conditioning and evil something only attributable to one’s enemies, then we can expect to be considered fools, ostracized and yes, perhaps even persecuted. Jesus told us that if they treated the Master so harshly, we should not expect worldly honors. Instead we hope for the greatest honor of joining with Jonathan Daniels and Oscar Romero and all the saints who have been willing to consider all worldly treasures as worthless compared to the great gift of knowing Jesus, sharing in His sufferings, and living His risen love.

My sisters and brothers, on this feast of All Saints, may Our Lord open our hearts and make us servants in His kingdom. Now to Him, who, by the power at work within us, is able to accomplish abundantly more than we can ask or imagine, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations forever and ever. Amen.

Peace,

Father Jerry

Jesus said to Simon, “Put out into deep water and let down your nets for a catch.” “Master, we were hard at work all night and caught nothing at all, but if you say so, I will let down the
nets.” —Luke 5: 4-5

It turned out to be a great day, but it sure didn’t start off well. Simon Peter was tired and he was annoyed. The man who had such a ‘healthy self image’ that he would have the audacity to argue with Jesus about going to Jerusalem, the temerity to walk on water and the bravado to let Jesus know that he was far more courageous than the other disciples, had been outsmarted by fish. He worked all night and caught nothing. Yes, he was tired and upset. He had cleaned his nets. It was time to go home and relax.

Then Jesus postpones his relaxation time, asks to use his boat. As tired as he is, he is honored. Jesus is an extremely popular teacher. But then, after teaching the crowds, Jesus looks at Peter and tells him that it is time catch fish. Peter looks askance at this carpenter-preacher. He wants to tell him that he is tired; that he knows far better than a carpenter when the fish will bite, but for once he keeps his mouth shut and does what Jesus asks. The response is overwhelming. Peter will have the best fish story in the whole region. And when something wonderful happens, we need to share good news. Simon Peter invites his friends to share in the remarkable catch. James and John experience the abundance that being with Jesus can bring. Then the light goes on in Simon Peter’s head and heart. He realizes that somehow he is in the presence of God, that he’s being caught up in an adventure for which he’s not prepared. “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.”

This is the foundational religious experience for all of us, the moment of truth when we realize both our unworthiness and God’s wonderful call. This is the time when faith comes alive. Lord, I’m a sinner—all too often selfish, lazy, very limited. And Jesus smiles at us, asks to be with us, to get into our boat, and challenges us to put out into the deep and let our nets down. When we realize our unworthiness and begin to realize that this is God’s adventure, then the Lord can say to us, as He did to Simon Peter on that Galilean shore, “From now on you will catch people.”

Peace,

Father Jerry

Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. He came to Jesus by night and said to him, ‘Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.’ Jesus answered him, ‘Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.’ – John 3: 1-3

Dear Friends,

On a starry night, Nicodemus came to visit Jesus. He came at night so that none of his friends would see him. He had met the lame man now signing up for dance lessons; had seen the formerly blind man who kept looking around with a wonderful smile on his face; had heard this carpenter-preacher speak about God as His closest friend. Nicodemus sensed that the Kingdom of God was present in this man from Nazareth.

Nicodemus also knew that the religious leaders and the whole temple business saw Jesus as a threat. These people were his friends. He had worked hard to attain the respect of his peers and was now an honored member of the Sanhedrin. He didn’t want to risk losing his standing in the community.

Jesus doesn’t mince words. He greets Nicodemus with a warm smile but tells him that he’s going to have to make a serious choice. He’s going to have to be willing to give up his popularity, his public honors, and learn to see things in a new way. He’s going to have to be born from above. Nicodemus protests that this is not possible. How could he risk losing all his social contacts, how could he expose his family to ridicule? Jesus talks about the power of the Spirit to transform lives, to usher in new beginnings. Nicodemus feigns ignorance of such matters. Jesus teases him, “But Nicodemus are you telling me that you, a teacher in Israel, are ignorant of the Spirit of God?”

We don’t know how that meeting ended. We do meet Nicodemus two more times. Once, Jesus came to Jerusalem quietly, to celebrate the Feast of Tabernacles. The people discover that Jesus is there, and gather around Him. The religious leaders get the message, and send the temple police to arrest him. When they return empty-handed, the authorities are not happy. The police tell them they don’t understand: “No man ever spoke as this man speaks.” The Pharisees then denigrate the pilgrims, calling them a rabble, which cares nothing for the law, and adds that a curse is upon them. In this angry scene, Nicodemus courageously reminds them that their Law demands that Jesus be given a hearing before they judge Him. They then ask Nicodemus if he has fallen under Jesus’ spell. He remains silent.

The last time we meet him is after Jesus has been crucified. Nicodemus and his friend Joseph of Arimathea come to Pilate and ask for the body of Jesus, so that they can give Him an honorable burial. Nicodemus’ heart is heavy. He kept quiet and now it is too late. He should have defended Jesus. He will now publicly declare his faith in Jesus’ goodness. But it’s too little, too late.

The good news is that it’s not too late. The good news is that Jesus didn’t need that tomb for very long. Nicodemus must have become one of the first generation of Christians, or how could we have come to know his story? Like Nicodemus, we too have missed many opportunities to fully live the Good News. Perhaps we are afraid to live our truth for fear of losing friends or social position or security. Perhaps we have become too comfortable for our own good. There is still time. Jesus still calls us to see things in a new way, to be born from above, to seek God’s kingdom above all else. Nicodemus agrees.

Peace,
Father Jerry

Dear Friends,

Jesus said: Father, Lord of heaven and earth! I thank you because you have shown to the unlearned what you have hidden from the wise and learned.

Jesus seemed to some to be a clown, a fool. He made fun of the money- mad society and told them that the birds in the air had more sense than they, laughed at the fashion parade and told them that not even Solomon looked as good as a simple flower. His message must have seemed foolish…that not a hair fell from their head without the Father knowing, when everyone knew that the Almighty was too concerned with running the universe to get involved in this way. Jesus, the fool mocked by Herod, laughed at by the soldiers…the clown who forgave others from the cross.

And those who follow Jesus must also seem foolish. Poor Paul with all his education, going from town to town telling people about a God who suffered that men could live…being laughed at by the clever men of Athens who asked him to come back again so that they could have another good laugh. Poor Paul, escaping in a basket because those who wanted to make him a basket case had vowed to stop his Gospel preaching.

Yes, I am a fool, he told them and you are so wise, so clever. Yet, he explains, God has shown that this world’s wisdom is foolishness…God decided to save those who believe, by means of the foolish message we preach. As for us, we proclaim Christ crucified and for all who will listen, both Jews and Gentiles, Christ is the power of God and the wisdom of God. For what seems to be God’s weakness is stronger than men’s strength.

Those of us who believe in Jesus are asked to walk in the footsteps of Christ the clown, to be willing to be laughed at for loving without counting the cost when wise men play it safe, to be willing to be laughed at so that we can free others to really laugh from within. It does seem like nonsense to stand up for truth, when others have made truth the lie they prefer to believe; stupid to be honest, when everybody knows that all that matters is not getting caught; stupid to really care, when worldly wisdom says nothing can be done.

A clown is really very clever. He knows that by letting people laugh at him, they can learn not to take themselves too seriously. The clown first of all knows how to laugh at himself. Some years back, the wonderful Pope John XXIII could look at himself dressed in robes and laugh, a good belly laugh, at the foolishness of it all. Because he could laugh, was willing to be foolish, he freed others to drop the pompous masks they wore. He freed others to see that they were not the clothes they wore, the important jobs they held. And when he laughed, they even began to believe that they were children of God.

Peace,

Father Jerry

So I was afraid, and I buried my talent in the earth. Here, I return it to you. – Matthew 25:25

Dear Friends,

I was always uncomfortable with the picture of the master in the parable of the talents. He comes down so hard on this timid servant with only one talent. It doesn’t seem fair. Except for the hypocrites, Jesus is remarkably merciful to everyone else. He forgives His friends who run away in time of need, forgives the good friend who denies that he even knows Him, and, gasping for breath, even forgives His enemies who are at the foot of the cross, gloating at having gotten rid of this troublemaker. Where is the mercy for this timid servant?

We can have some understanding of the urgency of using the gifts God blesses us with, when we realize that Jesus gave everything for us. He reached out to help everyone In need, continued to care even when people used Him selfishly, stripped Him of His garments; He gave His life’s blood—and all out of love. The urgency of living our life and not just letting it slip away in fear is at the heart of this parable. It do not matter if we have many talents or only one. All that matters is that we use whatever we have been blessed with, with a sense of hope and delight. It is just plain silly to spend any energy comparing ourselves, or our gifts, with anyone else. God doesn’t want us to be somebody else; He does want us to be all that we can be.

All of us can probably relate to that timid servant. Because we have been hurt at different times, the tendency is to hide from life, to insulate ourselves from pain. But when we do that, something dies in us. That is what Jesus means when He talks about losing even the little that we have. We are either being born, or we are dying. We are either developing our gifts, or letting them deteriorate. Jesus tells us to make sure on our life’s journey that we wear out and don’t rust out, that we truly live each day as a gift and an opportunity to show His love. The theme running through the whole Gospel story is the presence of Jesus who says to us, “Do not be afraid. I am with you always…” May each of us dig up whatever we have buried, give thanks while we have time, and live each day as fully as we can. Then, one day, we will hear the joyous words, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

Peace,

Father Jerry

Then he said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” But those who were at the table with him began to say among themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?” And he said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

Luke 7: 48-50

Dear Friends,

Jesus had been invited to Simon the Pharisee’s home for dinner. Simon thought it would be interesting to question the carpenter-preacher about His unorthodox views. But it wasn’t a real dinner-party. There was no warmth, no traditional signs of welcome. But that changed dramatically when a woman with an unsavory past showed up. Jesus had clearly touched her heart, and so she had to show Him her thanks. She brought a jar of precious alabaster for Jesus. She washed and kissed His feet. The other respectable guests were horrified. Didn’t Jesus know this woman’s reputation? After all, the tradition was to keep a safe distance from sinners, ignore them at the marketplace lest they be contaminated.
Jesus makes this unwelcome guest feel very special. He tells her that she should be at peace, that she is deeply loved, and has a whole new life to enjoy. He tells her that she is forgiven. As soon as He does, Jesus becomes the second unwelcome guest. He tells Simon ands the other self-righteous people that their religiosity has made them narrow and cold.
Jesus got into lots of trouble by forgiving sinners. He made the religious leaders cringe at this challenge to their tradition. That night Jesus left Simon’s house with their barbed insults ringing in his ears. But He could not and would not stop showing God’s extraordinary love. The authorities would eventually try to get rid of Him. But even on the cross, gasping for breath, Jesus looked down at them, and yes, forgave even them.

Peace,

Father Jerry