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Go in that way of love
We have begun now, the most solemn week in our liturgical year. It's the week in which we bring to conclusion all that we have been doing during the season of Lent and of course, it ends later in the week with our celebration of Holy Thursday, Good Friday and then the resurrection of Jesus on Easter.
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And so this is the moment when once more we should renew our determination to enter as fully as possible into the spirit of Jesus, to be with him during this week, because at the end of the week on Easter, we'll be renewing our baptismal promises, where we commit ourselves to be changed, be radically changed so that we can be like Jesus, be his disciples, proclaiming his message to the world.
It's very important then, that we do as that first lesson spoke of. A disciple is one who listens deeply, hears God speaking, and then responds.
So we must try today and especially the last three days of the week, to listen deeply to God's word, to understand how radical is the change that God expects of us if we are to be the disciples of Jesus.
And this morning, I will speak about the one probably most radical thing that God asks of us if we are to be disciples of Jesus, and that is that we give up violence, that we give up any spirit of retaliation or vengeance, and that we only follow Jesus in his way of active love.
There is a scripture scholar, John McKenzie, who, in a book he calls The New Testament Without Illusion, who tells us that if Jesus did not reject violence for any reason whatsoever, we know nothing about Jesus.
In other words, it's so clear in the scriptures that Jesus said no to violence, which would mean no to war, which would mean no to domestic violence, no to violence of any kind, and only follow a way of love. In fact, John McKenzie goes on to say, Jesus taught us how to die, not how to kill.
See, you die, according to the way of Jesus, loving, forgiving your enemies. You die loving and forgiving your enemy. Jesus taught enemy love. He taught us how important it is to always work for reconciliation -- not even have anger in our heart. If we know a brother or sister has something against us, go and be reconciled before you come to offer your gift at the altar -- very hard to do, but it's the way of Jesus.
Some time ago, Pope John Paul II, emphasizing how important is this way of Jesus, nonviolence, said, "I invite all Christians to bring to the common task of proclaiming the gospel, its specific contribution. So in the light of that gospel, I declare, violence is a lie, for it goes against the truth of our faith, the truth of our humanity. Do not believe in violence. Do not support violence. It is not the Christian way. It is not the way of the Catholic Church. Believe only in peace and forgiveness and love, for they alone are of Christ."
When we hear these words about nonviolence, it becomes very clear, we have to undergo profound change in our hearts and in our ways of living and acting. And today's story of the passion of Jesus and especially the celebration of what we call Palm Sunday, when Jesus was acclaimed, went into Jerusalem in a way that the people were trying to make him king.
They were crying, "Hosanna to the Son of David; blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord." Over a period of time, the enthusiasm had built up around Jesus and they wanted him to be the king and to overthrow the Roman rulers and the occupation and all of its cruelties. They wanted to do this by violence and force, so they thought if they made Jesus their king, they could make it happen.
But if we look very closely at how Jesus decided to come into Jerusalem, we see that he is proclaiming something very different from what they were speaking of.
Matthew enables us to understand this because he gives us a clue on how to interpret what Jesus does when he comes into Jerusalem. He reminds us of what was written down hundreds of years before in the prophet Zechariah.
We might not have noticed the words when that part of the gospel was read, but the prophet Zechariah was speaking about something that happened in his time, when the chosen people were in exile and under persecution, and he promised that a king would come to free them. But here is how that king will come: "Your king is coming, just and victorious, humble, and riding on a donkey." A king doesn't come on a donkey; a king comes on a war horse.
So Matthew puts into his gospel this reference to Zechariah, where Jesus chooses deliberately to ride on a donkey, therefore showing the reality of the words of Zechariah: "No more chariots in Ephraim. No more horses in Jerusalem; this king will do away with them. All weapons will be destroyed. The warrior's bow shall be broken when he brings peace to the nations."
Jesus chooses to come into Jerusalem, not as a king on a war horse, not with weapons, not with armies, but in a very simple and humble way, riding on a donkey, so he was showing the people he was rejecting their call to be the kind of king that would use power and might and violence and killing to try to bring about peace.
Jesus chose the way of non-violence. That's very clear in today's feast of Palm Sunday, and we need to begin to reflect on this and to make sure that in our own hearts, we begin to pray that we can change our attitude that violence is acceptable, that violence is something that will bring peace; it can't.
In the gospel this morning, when someone drew a sword and cut off the ear of the high priest's servant, remember what Jesus said? "Put away your sword. Those who live by the sword will die by the sword," it will not bring peace. That's a hard lesson for us. It's very difficult for us to change our attitude and to change our thinking and let that change our actions.
But there's more to this nonviolence of Jesus than simply giving up violence. It's very important that we remember that instead of violence, we choose active love.
So throughout this week as we listen to the scriptures, which I hope we will do very deeply, Jesus will be showing us, time after time, how he reaches out in love, bringing that to a climax when, on the cross, where he has been tortured and now is dying, he reaches out in love to those putting him to death. He prays for their forgiveness for their healing. What more extraordinary example of love could we expect, and what a challenge it is to us to try to follow that way of Jesus.
In fact, some of us might think it's impossible and that Jesus really could not have meant what we will hear today or have heard, and will hear throughout this week.
If we are inclined that way, well, we're not much different from the first Christians because at the church of Corinth, they were struggling with the same thing—did Jesus really mean it that you had to love your enemy, that you could not use force or violence, and had to give up all kinds of vengeance and hatred?
They had a difficult time believing it and acting on it, so Paul wrote to them and said, "Jesus did not send me to baptize, but to proclaim the good news, the message of Jesus."
That message is the language of the cross and of course, when God spoke the language of the cross, the world did not recognize God through this wisdom. So in fact, the Jewish people, many of them rejected it.
Paul says, "They asked for miracles," and then the so-called intellectuals, the Greeks, asked for a higher knowledge, "and yet here am I proclaiming a crucified Christ, one who gives up power and might, violence, and only reaches out in love. That's what I preach."
Then Paul says to them, "For the Jews, what a great scandal, a stumbling block they can't get over. For the Greeks, what nonsense. They think it's pure foolishness."
But then Paul says to them, "In reality, the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength." What seems foolish in our ways is really a deep wisdom. And a forgiving spirit of love, which seems weak to many, is actually stronger than any violence.
This morning as we try to reflect on this and begin our celebration of Holy Week by committing ourselves to continue to listen to the word of God, to be changed by it, I invite you to listen in a special way when we proclaim the Eucharistic prayer, because it really sums up what is our calling as a disciple.
You remember these words, I'm sure, "Yes, God, you are holy. You are kind to us and to all. For this we thank you. We thank you, above all, for your son Jesus. You sent him into this world because people had turned away from you and no longer loved one another. Jesus opened our eyes and our hearts to understand that we are brothers and sisters and that you are the one God of us all, and Jesus brought us the good news of life to be lived with you forever in heaven, and he showed us the way to that life, the way of love, and he has gone that way before us."
Jesus shows us the way to share in the risen life that he brought for us. It's the way of love. He's gone that way before us and now we pray that we can hear his word and follow it, and go in that way of love always.
[Bishop Gumbleton gave this homily at St. Hilary Parish in Redford, Mich.]






Thank you, Bishop Gumbleton
Thank you, Bishop Gumbleton for reminding us that non-violence is the way.
Hard to believe that the good
Hard to believe that the good Bp. doesn't mention the violence that the USCCB's have allowed to persist for children -that this "Boys' Club" can't seem to DO enough to find legal ways to protect our children!! Not yet even. Forget the
cananization of ANY Popes...EHS
On this, the 95th anniversary
On this, the 95th anniversary of the Easter Uprising in Ireland, I am saddened by the hardships of the downtrodden everywhere. How difficult it is to hold one's peace, when inside, there is trauma left by violence.
Think of the of the Jewish people, the Polish, the Catholics during the rise of the Third Reich, and be lacking in imagination, like myself, as to how that conflict, that atrocity, could have been "diffused" without weapons; and now that we know the folly of greater weapons of mass distruction, we are all aware that they are no solution at all.
I pray that our understanding of nonviolence is evolutionary, and just seems very slow. I pray there is learning taking place in us, fully believing He is with us and guiding us even now.
It wasn't until fourteen years after the Irish Revolt in 1916, Ghandi walked to the Ocean and made salt, not guns, to protest Enlish Occupation. Seventeen years later, on August 15, 1947, India gained their Independence from England as the truth-force movement grew. Is not that an increment of progress?
Forty years after that, the Cold War and Communism ended. Another marker of our collective hearts changing? Nonviolent resistance is a solution to oppression. And Ghandi was assassinated for his beliefs in human dignity the following January.
He believed Muslims were as good as Hindus, just as Bishop Gumbleton believes women are as good as men, and LGBT people are as good as hetero people and black people as good as white people.
Speaking of the Indian women, they were instrumental in the salt protest, taking pitchers of salt water to their homes and making salt. They then would shout at the top of their lungs, "I HAVE BROKEN THE SALT LAW!" Similar to shouts of other women, "I HAVE BROKEN THE MALE ONLY ORDINATION LAW!", and the shouts of other women and men, "NO ONE WAS JUST IN SEXUALLY ABUSING ME AS A CHILD, AND I SHALL HAVE MY DAY IN COURT DISPITE ANY STATUTE OF LIMITATIONS!"
The choices of being atheist or mystic, must take on another occupation, that of singer, poet, or maybe Thomas Gumbleton.
So often the Irish used words to save civilization. When our words fail us,and we use the sword,our poets rally, and see the love wrestling to be born. Thank you Bishop Gumbleton. Thank you William Butler Yeats:
William Butler Yeats
(1865 - 1939)
An Irish Nationalist uprising had been planned for Easter Sunday 1916, and although the German ship that was bringing munitions had been intercepted by the British, attempts to postpone the uprising failed; it began in Dublin on Easter Monday..Fifteen hundred men seized key points and an Irish republic was proclaimed from the General Post Office. After the initial surprise prompt British military action was taken, and when over 300 lives had been lost the insurgents were forced to surrender on 29 April.... The seven signatories of the republican proclamation, including [Padraic] Pearse and [James] Connolly, and nine others were shot after court martial between 3 and 12 May; 75 were reprieved and over 2000 held prisoners"
Easter 1916 (1916)
I have met them at close of day
Coming with vivid faces
From counter or desk among grey
Eighteenth-century houses.
5 I have passed with a nod of the head
Or polite meaningless words,
Or have lingered awhile and said
Polite meaningless words,
And thought before I had done
10 Of a mocking tale or a gibe
To please a companion
Around the fire at the club,
Being certain that they and I
But lived where motley is worn:
15 All changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
That woman's days were spent
In ignorant good will,
Her nights in argument
20 Until her voice grew shrill.
What voice more sweet than hers
When, young and beautiful,
She rode to harriers?
This man had kept a school
25 And rode our winged horse;
This other his helper and friend
Was coming into his force;
So sensitive his nature seemed,
30 So daring and sweet his thought.
This other man I had dreamed
A drunken, vainglorious lout.
He had done most bitter wrong
To some who are near my heart,
35 Yet I number him in the song;
He, too, has resigned his part
In the casual comedy;
He, too, has been changed in his turn,
Transformed utterly:
40 A terrible beauty is born.
Hearts with one purpose alone
Through summer and winter seem
Enchanted to a stone
To trouble the living stream.
45 The horse that comes from the road,
The rider, the birds that range
From cloud to tumbling cloud,
Minute by minute they change;
A shadow of cloud on the stream
50 Changes minute by minute;
A horse-hoof slides on the brim,
And a horse plashes within it;
The long-legged moor-hens dive,
And hens to moor-cocks call;
55 Minute by minute they live:
The stone's in the midst of all.
Too long a sacrifice
Can make a stone of the heart.
O when may it suffice?
60 That is Heaven's part, our part
To murmur name upon name,
As a mother names her child
When sleep at last has come
On limbs that had run wild.
65 What is it but nightfall?
No, no, not night but death;
Was it needless death after all?
For England may keep faith
For all that is done and said.
70 We know their dream; enough
To know they dreamed and are dead;
And what if excess of love
Bewildered them till they died?
I write it out in a verse-
75 MacDonagh and MacBride
And Connolly and Pearse
Now and in time to be,
Wherever green is worn,
Are changed, changed utterly.
80 A terrible beauty is born.
Editor´s Comments
Writing a poem about an important historical event is not the same thing as writing a news story about it. Yeats could have simply described what happened in Dublin during Easter week of 1916, but he didn't do that. To make his poem, Yeats had to select. He needed to give his poem a location, to let his readers hear a voice speaking from a particular point of view. He needed to leave a great deal out, and focus instead on just a few details. But those details had to show why all the rest of it mattered.
For Yeats, the Easter Rising was a surprise. It caused him to rethink a great many things, including what he thought about some of those men and women who participated in the Rising. Many of them were his friends, but he'd always seen them as pretty typical of the times in which they lived, and he didn't think much of those times. He thought of his society as grey and materialistic, incapable of heroic action. So when these people suddenly did act, he was forced to change his mind, and that's what he wrote his poem about. He is involved in the events of Easter 1916 because they remain a kind of reproach to him. He needs to understand them, because he needs to understand himself.
And the reality of the Rising, its terrible cost for those involved, causes him to rethink not just his opinions about these old friends and acquaintances, but also his earlier views about revolution. Some of those views (in his poem "September 1913," for example) seem a bit too easy now, too romantic. He guessed what the twentieth century would certainly come to know: that hearts with one purpose alone can turn to stone.
So in the end, "Easter 1916" is a very serious meditation about the ambiguities of history, but it gets to that end by being something much more modest: a poem about a man changing his mind.
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