Homily for March 29

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

Over the years, people will refer in conversation to the latest movie or episode in a popular television show and I would have to confess having had no opportunity to watch these. An unforeseen benefit of the forced isolation of the current crisis has been the opportunity to “catch up” on some reading and “watching” that had been postponed. A few nights ago, I watched the relatively recently produced film “1917.” The story was obviously situated in the midst of the horror of World War I. The story relates the perilous journey of two soldiers to communicate a life-saving message from one commander to the other. In the process of fulfilling their mission, one loses his life; the other must traverse scenes of death beyond description. On the way, however, two scenes paint a sharp contrast. The surviving soldier encountered in a bombed building a young woman and a baby. She nursed his wound; he gave milk to the baby. Shortly thereafter, the soldier found himself carried away in the rapids of a nearby river through a waterfall to calm waters. He found the troops for whom he had been searching and fulfilled his mission.

The gripping scenes of death and daring from this movie remind me of the field of dead bones described by the prophet Ezekiel in Chapter 37. Today the Church’s liturgy has us hear only two of the verses from that chapter; but I encourage you to read the whole chapter to experience the transforming power of the Word. The people of Israel were being portrayed as “dead,” totally lacking the “spirit of life.” God’s breath came upon them. The clanking of bones could be heard as the dead came to life. The gospel form the 11th chapter of John is the powerful account of the raising of Lazarus from the dead. Death in both readings has more than one meaning. It is both physical and spiritual.

Our current corona virus crisis is a story of sickness, death, desperation and fear. The levels of anxiety are high; and mental health professionals are being kept busy – online and on the telephone. I suggest that like the exiled people to whom Ezekiel wrote and the early Christina community addressed by John, faith is being challenged. Among the most uplifting passages from the letters of St. Paul is Romans, Chapter 8. Paul was well aware that the Christians in Rome lived every day with the awareness that they might be the next ones to be thrown to the lions in the arena. He reminded them (and us): “You are not in the flesh, on the contrary, you are in the spirit, if only the Spirit of God dwells in you.” (Romans 8:9)

Some years ago, a priest confessed his greatest fears as being the following: (1) being falsely accused; (2) being diagnosed with cancer; and (3) facing impending death. To his total surprise, in his final years, he had to confront all three. The little book called “Gift of Peace” describes the faith journey of this priest, Cardinal Joseph Bernardin. He was naturally troubled and confused at first but progressed to a profound sense of peace that liberated him to be a source of care and inspiration to others.

The uncertainty in which we live forces us to focus on the “essentials.” What is most important? What resentments and fear inhibit my peace in the midst of this new turmoil? If I am Lazarus, I really need others to heed the command of Jesus: “Untie him and let him go free!

Yours in Christ,
Father Bill Foley