“Whoever lives the truth comes to the light.”
Many years ago at my previous parish,
I had a young couple with three beautiful young daughters.
They would come to Mass every single Sunday.
It was noticeable that they came
because the three daughters were so beautiful
and they were sort of angelic, always coming to Mass.
While the father was not able to come every single Sunday,
because he traveled quite a bit with work, he was there most Sundays.
One day, the couple came in to see me personally
and wanted to talk urgently.
They shared with me the very sad news
that he had been diagnosed with Stage IV lung cancer
and that he wanted some help on the journey.
For the next many months,
I would meet with them regularly to embolden their faith
as they journeyed together and
looked for therapy after therapy
and ultimately it came to an end.
The father came to me in secret once, and said,
“Father, I would ask a favor of you.”
I said, “Sure. Anything.”
He said I would like to become Catholic.
I didn’t realize he wasn’t Catholic!
He had been coming to Mass every single Sunday.
I said, “I didn’t know you weren’t.”
He said, “I’m not. It’s a bit complicated
but I would like to become Catholic
before I die if you don’t mind.
And receive the Sacrament of the Anointing.”
I said, “Absolutely. No problem.”
He said, “You see, my father is a Christian minister in another church
and I don’t want to offend him in any way.
It might be a bit difficult so I want to leave it as late as possible.
So could we do that?”
I said, “Absolutely.”
I prepared all the paperwork and
then one day he was in the hospital and his wife called and said,
“Danny wants to see you.”
I went into the hospital and then we talked
and his father was standing right there.
He was equally as handsome as his son: a tall, older gentleman.
I asked him to step outside for a second
and I talked to him about his son’s wishes.
His face lit up with delight that his son would embrace faith
in Christ Jesus so readily, so radically and now.
We went in and celebrated five of the Sacraments right there.
He had been baptized already.
We celebrated first Eucharist; Reconciliation; Confirmation;
Anointing of the Sick; and renewal of their marriage vows.
It was a beautiful moment for sure.
But what was most powerful was the light in his face.
He lit up and bright eyed throughout.
He was absolutely delighted and said to me the following days
that he had wished he had done it earlier;
that this was one of the best things that he had ever done.
It was a huge testimony to his faith in Christ Jesus
that in those last moments he believed completely
in Jesus Christ as he Lord and Savior.
His face shone bright like with a light that I had never seen.
It was a great testimony to his wife and to his three daughters,
who of course naturally struggled with his early death.
It was a brutal time nonetheless for the family
but I still see Danny’s face bright as light
as he received those Sacraments.
Most of us, I hope, do not wait until the last moments
to live our faith brightly and alive
but I suspect that many of us, if not all of us,
drift away in some aspect of our faith
or at least do not live it up brightly and alive
like Danny did in those last days.
I fear that unfortunately we need something to happen
to wake us up out of our deep slumber;
of what I call the secular slumber of our society;
that we have dulled ourselves into thinking that this is life
when life is so much more.
In today’s gospel, Nicodemus, one of the religious leaders at the time,
came to Jesus in secret in the dark of the night.
That is what that reference is in John,
the language is the dark of night
which was that he came to him in secret
to ask him about faith in him.
We do not know what questions were asked
but we know that Jesus tells him that he is the Son of God;
that he will be offered up on the cross.
Nicodemus clearly came to believe
because later he would testify in Jesus’ favor
and will be the one to go and to get the body attending to him.
I wonder what it would take for us to live our life in the light.
Jesus comes as the light of the world.
He doesn’t come to condemn us.
He comes to give us the fullness of life.
That is what the scripture says today.
They were called to have life
and life to the fullest
and that when we live in that truth
that we become part of the light.
Like Danny, lighting up with faith,
alive in knowing and rejoicing.
Today, we celebrate Laetare Sunday which means “rejoice”
and it is in the middle of Lent;
we are right at the midpoint of Lent
and we are meant to turn up our joy and our rejoicing.
At this point, we are meant to have somehow come alive once again;
that the conversion half way through Lent
has really happened;
that our prayer life has set us on fire;
that our fasting has lightened our load
and gained our attention to Christ, and Christ alone.
And now we give alms away joyful, rejoicing at the gift of life.
But here we are still in the pandemic;
still in shelter in place
wearing masks and still with an empty Church,
celebrating Mass with a few people and
many of you at home desperate to return to Church.
So what are we to do?
We need to seize the moment.
We need to look again at our lives
and realize how, in fact, blessed we already are;
and not way until some end of the pandemic
but to realize how grace-filled this moment is now,
this pandemic moment,
not the people dying,
not all the troubles we have,
but the attention we can give to this moment
allows us to rejoice in it.
Next time you are down in the grocery store
and you are complaining about wearing a face mask
and having your glasses getting fogged up
and having to remain six feet away from people,
look around the shelves and be very grateful
that the shelves are full of fresh produce and
full of food that has been delivered by countless people
whose names we will never know;
and grown by countless immigrants on the lands of our farms
whose names we will never know.
And offer a prayer of thanksgiving for all the people,
including the clerks who will help and assist us
to bring that food to our table.
Or, that when we are out walking
maybe wearing a face mask and frustrated that we have to,
look up at the beautiful hills or the beautiful clouds
or maybe it is even raining where you are
and just give thanks to God
who gives us this beautiful earth,
this creation that is bounding in beauty;
that we can find in this moment
the grace-filled world that we live in.
And when we look at our spouse and our children
who we are maybe spending way too much time
within the house but that we are grateful for this moment
because we have spent more time in this one year
with them than we probably have in the last five or ten years.
And just celebrate not just their grace and their love
but all the little weird things that they do.
Sure. Celebrate those little idiosyncratic behaviors
that you suddenly noticed after 25 years of marriage;
you didn’t notice but now you do.
And laugh at them.
And rejoice at how wonderful it is
that you could love somebody like that
and that they could love you
in all your weirdness and idiosyncratic behavior.
And laugh. And enjoy this moment.
Rejoice in the light of faith.
Seize this moment.
Let not this pandemic end without us becoming
more grateful.
More alive.
More full of faith.
And not let us wait for some darker moment to arrive.
How much more darkness do we need?
Can we not see the light right now
that shines right in our midst;
let us rejoice with the gift of the light of God;
that Christ shines in the midst of our darkness
and has never, ever left us.
Let us open our eyes and see. Rejoice.
