Author: admin

***

There are now over 644,000 confirmed cases of the Coronavirus in the U.S. 

It’s a staggering number. Our healthcare system is nearly tearing at the seams. 

But what’s even more incredible is the fact that no one is apparently turned away. If someone is in serious or critical condition, that person is treated.

Doctors and nurses aren’t discriminating against their patients. Somehow, they make room for everyone.

***

In the Gospel, the disciples have gone fishing, a sign they’re returning to their former way of life. It was a place of comfort, their trade before meeting Jesus.

Although they’re professionals, they don’t make a single catch. When the Risen Lord appears, however, he commands them to cast their nets again.

Suddenly, they’re stuffed; filled with 153 large fish.

Why 153? Why not 150 or 160 fish? Why even count them at all?

Some scholars say the number was symbolic. For example, it was believed that 153 different types of fish swam in the Sea of Galilee.

Their nets were large enough to catch them all.

***

The nets themselves are also symbolic.

They represent the Church. Meaning, the Church should make room for everyone. It will not tear at the seams.

Just as no one is turned away from a hospital if that person is in serious or critical condition, so no person should be turned away from the Church.

Even the greatest of sinners.

“For I did not come to call the righteous,” Jesus says, “but sinners.” We can welcome everyone. The nets of the Church will not break.

So how can we extend our nets a little deeper into society?

***

That’s a question that’s often discussed on a macro-level, because it has moral and theological implications.

But it’s also a question we answer ourselves. How can I cast my net deeper into my home?

How can I be more welcoming in my workplace, in my community, and in my parish?

It boils down to how we treat one another, whether or not we accept people for who they are. That’s the groundwork.

So is my first impression of others driven by judgment? Must they meet a set of preconditions to be accepted? Or do I love others for simply being human like me?

As our relationships build, we encourage one another to become holier, happier people. 

It’s what Jesus himself did. He never wagged his finger at the sinful or the weak. He loved them and encouraged them to be better.

But he always led by example.

“Love one another the way that I have loved you,” he says.

Our hearts – and our Church – can be big enough to welcome everyone, much like our hospitals who are welcoming everyone in need.

The Lord assures us we’ll never tear at the seams.

It’s simply a matter of being open to the Spirit, who expands our hearts.

***

How many horror films involve someone wandering alone in the dark or trapped inside a room?

Think of Buffalo Bill in “Silence of the Lambs.”

Do you remember the scene when he turns his night vision goggles on and begins pursuing Clarice in his basement? Chilling.

Such movies play on a fear we all have – the fear of insecurity, of being trapped, of not knowing how to get out, or where to go next.

***

Think of the disciples in today’s Gospel. They’re frightened.

They’ve locked themselves inside a room in Jerusalem, trying to hide from the authorities. Jesus was killed just days ago and, logically, they fear they’re next. If they leave that room, they very well may be killed.

Talk about being trapped.

Suddenly, the Risen Jesus appears to them and says, “Peace be with you.” He knows they feel trapped and need somewhere to go, a door to be opened.

Unfortunately, that door is right in front of them, leading back into the streets of Jerusalem.

***

The disciples are being asked to face the crowds who put Jesus to death, and share the good news his resurrection with them.

Perhaps even to the Apostles’ surprise, some who hear this message are converted on the spot.

What a change of events! One moment the disciples are terrified, locked inside a room. The next they’re preaching in public.

The Lord answered their prayer; he came to their rescue. But in a very unexpected way.

***

How many of us feel like we need a door opened? A new job? Better health? A second chance? An answered prayer? A path that leads to life beyond grief?

***

The same Jesus who opened a door for the disciples opens doors for us. But sometimes it leads to unexpected paths.

The question isn’t, “Will God answer me?” The question is, “Will I accept where he wants me to go?”

***

The first confirmed case of the Coronavirus reached the United States 12 weeks ago. New Jersey has been under lockdown for the last 3 weeks.

It feels like we’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. We can’t return to the way things were; yet we can’t move forward, either.

Talks of reopening the country are still weeks away.

***

In Easter language, it feels like we’re stuck on Holy Saturday.

***

Jesus dies on Good Friday and he’s raised on Easter Sunday. Holy Saturday is that day in between; it’s a day of waiting. 

It’s where we find Mary Magdalene in the Gospel.

Although Jesus has been raised, she’s not accepted this truth just yet.

When the Lord appears to her, for example, she can’t recognize him because she’s been crying her eyes out.

Then when he speaks to her, she turns her back and faces his grave, thinking Jesus is simply the gardener.

It’s only after he calls her by name that Mary recognizes him. Jesus invites her to leap into Easter Sunday.

Once she does, her entire perspective on life will change.

***

We all know we’ll pull through this pandemic.

Although dates are still up in the air, the economy will reopen and life for most of us will return to normal.

But should it? Or are we being invited, like Mary Magdalene, to leap into something new? 

What would Easter Sunday look like for America?

***

For example, technology has overtaken our lives. 

Instead of spending time with loved ones face to face, we often revert to text messages or emails. At best we use FaceTime or Zoom.

But now that we can’t physically embrace one another we’re hungry for human touch.

Perhaps part of an “Easter America” means putting our phones down, spending more time face to face.

***

This pandemic has also taught us how connected we are – and, perhaps, how connected we can be.

For example, we as a Church have had to find new ways to be pastorally creative. 

Instead of temporarily closing up shop, we’ve made phone calls to the elderly to see how they’re doing; we’ve livestreamed Mass; we’ve taken time out of our busy schedules to drop groceries off to a neighbor.

A neighbor who’s name we might not have known before.

Perhaps part of an “Easter Church” means getting to know one another’s names and identifying, in particular, the most vulnerable among us.

***

For now the Coronavirus has us stuck between a rock and a hard place.

In Easter language, we’re stuck on Holy Saturday.

But when the country reopens, we should carry with us the many lessons learned. In particular, just how much we need real human touch.