Homily — Sunday 6 in Ordinary Time, Year C

Fr. Timothy W. Castor

When we come together to worship each Sunday, we are primarily commemorating one historical event. This event is central to our faith; in fact, apart from this event, there would be no Christian faith at all. This event is the Resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. Saint Paul is perfectly clear in today’s second reading: "If there is no resurrection of the dead, then neither has Christ been raised. And if Christ has not been raised, then empty (too) is our preaching; empty, too, your faith." Of course, there is more to our faith—more to Sunday Mass—than the remembrance of our Lord’s resurrection. His incarnation, his life, his death, his ascension and his second coming are all bound together in what we call the Paschal Mystery. But if Christ has not been raised, then all this is meaningless.

It’s important to recognize and to affirm that, when we speak of the resurrection, we are speaking of a real, historical, physical occurrence; not merely an article of faith. The reason this is so important is because there are many voices out there—some, even, who claim to be Catholic and Christian—telling us that the resurrection is not historically true. If you read Time or Newsweek or watch television news programs I’m sure you’ve run across some of these so-called experts. They try to tell us that the resurrection is a "faith event"—something that happened to the disciples interiorly and that they passed on to their followers. One "theologian" went so far as to say that, if archeologists were to discover the bones of Jesus, it would not change his faith at all. It’s embarrassing just to repeat such blasphemy. But, of course they won’t find the bones of Jesus, because his bones, along with his flesh and blood, muscles, sinews and organs, rose from the dead glorious and incorruptible that first Easter Sunday.

The disciples saw and touched his sacred body, they heard him speak and watched him eat. It was no ghost that appeared to Mary Magdalene outside the empty tomb; it was no figment of their imagination that cooked breakfast for Peter, James, John and the other disciples on the beach at the Sea of Galilee. Our faith is rooted in reality; it is not based on myths and legends. Why is this so important? Because "if Christ has not been raised," writes Saint Paul, "your faith is vain; you are still in your sins."

The experts refuse to believe this because—let’s face it—it is hard to believe. It goes against our whole experience of life and death—the dead simply do not come back to life. But that’s not a problem for Jesus: he is the Lord of life and he came to turn the world upside down, to take our ordinary expectations and turn them on their heads. Look what he says in today’s Gospel: Blessed are the poor, the hungry, those who weep, those who are hated; woe to the rich, the full, those who laugh, those who are popular. It’s just the opposite of what we’d expect. Who doesn’t want to be well-off, well-fed, well-entertained and well-liked. But if we set our sites only on what this world can give us, we’ll miss out on the good things God wants to give us.

That word "blessed" in our text today translates a Greek word that denotes a supreme happiness. The same word is used in two other places in the New Testament to designate the happiness of God himself. Do you realize what this means? Jesus wants us to be happy with the very happiness with which God himself is happy! He wants us to share in the joys of heaven. And this is why we needn’t worry about whether or not we are being satisfied here and now. If we persevere in our Christian calling, faithfully following our Lord and uniting our sufferings to his, an infinitely greater good awaits us in the life to come. In other words, if we share in Christ’s suffering and death, we will also share in his resurrection.

You know, our primary purpose in this life is to prepare for the life to come. Whatever else we do here, our ultimate goal must be heaven because that is what we are made for. When I was in seminary, each year we were given a pastoral field assignment. In my very first year of theology, my assignment was to teach a CCD class of eighth graders in a nearby parish. One of the first things the religious education director told me was, "this is a class of bad kids—they’ve been bad from the very first year they started CCD." And they were a class of bad kids. Most of them didn’t want to be there, their parents dropped them off and didn’t go to church themselves, the kids were disruptive, sarcastic, and rude. I’m convinced that one of the boys needed to be on medication. As inexperienced as I was, and as difficult as they were, you can imagine that I had a pretty hard time reaching them with the truths of our faith. But there was one day when I think I really connected—for just a few moments, they got it. Somehow, God used me to reach them. Here’s what happened.

I wanted to teach them about eternal life. In the front of the room, there was a long blackboard—perhaps about 20 feet long. Across the entire length of this blackboard I drew a straight line from left to right and I said, "this line represents your lifeline; it has a beginning—the day you were conceived in your mother’s womb—and (although I had to stop drawing the line because the blackboard is only so long) it really doesn’t have an end; we will go on living for ever, and that eternal life will either be in the happiness of heaven or in the pain and punishment of hell." Then I told the kids, "now, imagine this is an infinite line; part of it represents your life here on earth and part of it represents your life in eternity—heaven or hell; where should we divide it? How much of this line, from its starting point at the far left, represents your life on earth?" Then the kids gave me some ideas of where I should put the dividing mark. Some said it should be toward the far right, others put it about in the middle, while still others had it a little closer to the left side. Then I said, "those are all good guesses, but they’re not correct." I walked down to the left end of the line and drew a dividing mark about an eighth of an inch from the starting point. "That’s how much of this line is your life on earth," I said, "and even that is probably too generous. The rest is your life in eternity. Which part of this line is more important? Which part deserves more of our attention?" For once, the class was silent. You see, this life is important only because it determines where we will spend the next. Heaven is real—but so is hell; Jesus himself told us so. Live this life in light of the next; turn away from sin and follow Jesus Christ who is the way, the truth, and the life.

Jesus rose from the dead to give us life. He is the Head of the Church—the Mystical Body—of which we are the members. If the Head rose, will the members not rise also? If we died with Christ in holy Baptism, will we not also come to life again with him? But only if we remain united to him in trust and obedience. As we read in the Prophet Jeremiah:

"Blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD, whose hope is the LORD.
He is like a tree planted beside the waters that stretches out its roots to the stream:
It fears not the heat when it comes, its leaves stay green;
In the year of drought it shows no distress, but still bears fruit."

My dear brothers and sisters, the Resurrection of Jesus is no myth, it is the sure and certain foundation for our Faith. Let the "experts" search for the bones of a dead man; we will worship the living Jesus who is our Lord and our God, who gives himself to us in this Sacrament of love and who fills us with his divine life. May God grant each one of us the grace to live here and now in the blessed hope of Christ’s resurrection as we look forward to our own resurrection.

© 2004, The Rev. Timothy W. Castor