April 20, 2010

      I love trying to fix things, especially electronic computer-like things. I
find a joyful excitement at being able to unravel the mystery and discover why
something is not working and then elation at seeing it fixed. Truth be told
though, as a child, my dad says that I was actually much better at taking things
apart and perhaps not quite so good at putting them back together.
      We've all experienced things wearing down and eventually breaking,
usually in accord with Murphy's law at the most inopportune moment. Yet a
truth that I frequently try not to face is that sometimes I do more breaking than
fixing. In fact, if I am honest with myself, I easily wear down and stop
functioning as God intends. Whether I want to admit it or not, I am broken.
      I have noticed myself wearing down as the semester progresses. After
reading so many books, after writing so many papers, it is tempting to hide in
the quiet reassurance of intellectual prowess rather than engaging the
brokenness around me. It is easy to focus on how we can apply the “pastoral
circle” to a situation at a parish and overlook the needs of our brothers and
sisters with whom we live. It is tempting to get caught up in the all important
work of coming up with big ideas for solving the world's problems and forget
to do the simple things that nourish our life as community. Too often, I find
myself rushing from one thing to another and not being able to linger, to smile
and to listen to other people's stories. Too often, I find myself being critical
rather than charitable. Too often, I find myself being an obstacle to the Spirit
rather than a channel of that Spirit. I imagine Stephen calling me “stiff-
necked” and accusing me of opposing the Spirit. Having someone like
Stephen accusing me of being more of an obstacle to, rather than a temple of
the Spirit, having someone point out the brokenness that I would rather just
keep hidden leads me to act like Saul, and all-too-happily consent to Stephen's
stoning. Then I don't have to worry about the inconvenience of trying to fix
things. And yet, despite my attitude, Jesus wants to fix me. He wants to restore
me so that I might work again, so that I might be a channel of the Holy Spirit
rather than an obstacle.
      How does this restoration take place? It takes place when we open our
hearts to God's word and when we allow Jesus to become part of us in this
Eucharist. If we, like Stephen, were to be accused after Mass of being a
follower of Jesus, would there be enough evidence to convict us? Having
heard the Word proclaimed and having shared at this table, do we continue to
be a worn out, broken, “stiff-necked people” or will others be able to see the
Spirit at work in our lives?
       Jesus was asked to show a sign. As His followers, what sign do we offer
to those around us? This evening, Fathers Kurt, Innocent and Moka will share
their perspectives on what restorative justice means in various cultural
contexts. I find myself wondering what does restorative justice mean for me –
both individually and communally. What does it mean for Jesus to restore me
or to restore us as a community? In the midst of our fatigue, our frustrations,
and our brokenness, Jesus makes us whole if we are willing to follow Jesus'
example of commending our spirits into God's hands.
       If Jesus were to appear, what would I ask of him? Might I foolishly ask
Jesus to teach us something, to give us a homily, an evening of reflection, a
seminar? In response, I see Jesus smile as he says that He is the true Word
from heaven. He is that mystery which transcends our minds, that compassion
which overfills our hearts, and that charism which enraptures our spirits. For
our part, we dare to say to Jesus: Give us this Word, give us your truth!
Restore in me all that is you.
       Such a restoration, not only fixes or heals our fatigue, our frustration,
and our brokenness but it radically transforms us into a new creation. Jesus
does not just want to fix us, Jesus does not merely want to restore us to our
previous condition, Jesus desires to totally transform our lives and then to
send us out with the Spirit and His Word to transform the world.
       When others ask for a sign, let us be the sign that Jesus gives. Let our
Easter joy shine forth in the ways we treat one another, in the ways we
encourage one another, and in the ways we love one another. Then, rather than
opposing the Holy Spirit we become heralds of the Good News. This is the
good news that Jesus proclaims for, and in us, today. As we feed on His word,
as we eat His body and drink His blood, we are restored more fully, more
brilliantly into God's image. Yes, we may come tired and broken but we are to
leave not only restored but transformed. You are now being restored into the
living Body of Christ, YOU are the sign that Jesus gives to the world.