Sermons

Mar 30 - Daniel Gutierrez - The Second Sunday of Easter

Listen to audio version of this sermon.

In the story we’ve just heard, Thomas couldn’t be sure that Jesus was really present until he poked his finger in Jesus’ side. It is not an unusual human reaction to Jesus. In this Gospel reading, I am moved by those few short sentences at the beginning:

“Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’ After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, ‘Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.’ When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.

There have been many instances in my life where I can relate to St. Thomas’ doubt and his need for Jesus to prove his existence. I have often attempted to do the same thing - make Jesus my own personal puppet, where he works on my terms, I yank, and want him to respond. I poke, and he has to prove that he is real in my life.

We know however, that a constant demand by one person is not the basis of a mutual, loving relationship. It becomes a demand for love, a demand for proof. We do not want that with Jesus or one another.

There is no need to poke and prod, Jesus does not disappear, and He is always present. Our challenge is to recognize him in the routine, in the mundane of our everyday lives.
A 16th century, uneducated monk named Brother Lawrence understood having Jesus continually in every aspect of his life. He was overwhelmed by the power of God and found God in the ordinary.

He reminds us that God does not really expect much from us; maybe a little remembrance of Him from time to time; a little adoration; sometimes to pray for His grace; sometimes to offer him our sufferings, to thank him for the gifts he has given, and those he still gives.

Brother Lawrence reminds us to turn to God in the midst of our troubles, and console ourselves with Him as often as we can. To simply life our hearts to God, sometimes even at meals, in the company of others because the least little remembrance is always acceptable to God. There is no need to cry out loud; God is nearer to us than we think.

But we forget this, and look for proof. But the Good News of Christ is that we do not “go to God” as if God sat in the starry heavens awaiting our arrival; rather, God “comes to us” in the Incarnation. Jesus “is with us” in those small sacred rooms of everyday life. It there we find peace, the peace of God’s presence.

Our faith is filled with the word peace. Christ greets his disciples with “Peace be with you.” We say, “Glory to God in the highest, and peace to his people on earth,” at the end of Mass the Deacon bids “Go in peace to love and serve the Lord,” In a few moments, we will say to one another “The peace of the Lord be with you always.”

Those are more than words, a handshake, a chance to turn around and see if that person behind you is really wearing that color. Greater than the dictionary definition of: quiet; tranquility; mental calm; serenity.

Peace - It is the recognition of the divine among us, to truly hope for the Lord to be with our brother and sisters. In that small room, when Jesus wished the Apostles peace, when he promised them his peace, it was his assurance that he would always be with them, and would bring them into a deeper communion of life with him, the Father and the Holy Spirit.

Ironically, it has been said that this presence, this peace of Christ is a gift which both calms and challenges us - it does not make us immune form pain and suffering, or death, rather it enables us to face these painful realities, and triumph over them in union with Christ himself.

When our interest becomes serving God, to bringing God to the most unlikely places, in seeing God in every circumstance, person, and situation in life. There is peace.

When we strive to bring Christ to one another, to find ways to speak words of encouragement to others, find ways to reach out to the silent that are yearning for Christian love and compassion – we find the Lord’s peace.

When our only gift is the slight chance that we can make a positive difference in the life of our brothers and sisters – we become instruments of his peace.

It is in the darkness, when I cannot steady my path, or find a light - I feel God presence. I often feel his reassuring hand. When Moses wanted direction, God spoke to him saying “I am with you.” In the darkness, I listen for that soft voice whispering “I am with you.”

But that is in the dark. It was a friend who helped me understand the importance of recognizing the presence of God in my daily life. It was during the fall, and I was studying a glorious maple tree that was turning a glowing deep orange.

I had nurtured since a sapling, and while I appreciated its color, I focused on the irregular branches and the awkward bent of the branches. While focusing on the obvious, I noticed my friend, silent, sitting, and looking through the tree.

Marveling with a sense of appreciation, she was looking at what a writer has called “the spaces between the leaves;” she was looking for something that was not supposed to be there. Behind the tree, was resplendent, auburn pheasant, staring at me. I was focusing on the obvious, oblivious to the unexpected, unaware of being surrounded by God.

The pheasant slowly walked away and disappeared. We did not say a word and I was filled with the sense of the divine, the unexplainable feeling one gets, when you behold a beautiful sunset or rainbow, when hear rain fall on the roof, when you hold your child for the first time, when you feel the warmth of love, when you sense holiness, when you know that God exists.

We do not have to poke, prod or probe Jesus. God made everything and it is been said that everything God makes has a voice. Everything God makes has a story. God is everywhere, in each millisecond of the day. God is in all of creation.

He is in that small room filled with frightened Apostles and a doubting Thomas. He is in this church, our homes, offices, our lives. When we realize that he is always in our presences, there is no greater comfort, no greater peace - We have the peace of the Lord. It is where we find conversion.

As the pheasant disappeared, I looked down and thanked my friend for helping me to truly see what was in that sacred space, in that room. That old, arthritic, furry, dog looked at me with a sense of knowing. She knew instinctively, without reasoning, that there was something special in the space between the leaves.

We must come to know, in much the same way, instinctively, that Jesus is in both the sacred and the ordinary of our lives. We come to know God in a different way, from the heart and not the head. I would like to leave each of you with an ancient Irish blessing that simply says: The Deep peace of the risen Christ to you!

Amen.