We Hold the Unseen Future In Our Hands and Hearts
by Paulist Fr. Rich Andre
April 20, 2020

Paulist Fr. Rich Andre preached this homily for the 2nd Sunday of Easter Sunday on April 19, 2020 at St. Austin Parish in Austin, TX. The homily is based on the day’s readings: 2:42-47; Psalm 118; 1 Peter 1:3-9; and John 20:19-31. Because public Masses were cancelled due to coronavirus concerns, the Mass was video recorded.

An online worship guide can be found here.

Right now, uncertainty penetrates our lives in a way that we in the developed world have not experienced in generations. Things are not in our control. In the past month, I have felt tremendous empathy for my grandparents, vividly imagining what they experienced in the flu pandemic of 1918 and the Great Depression. 

Our Scripture passages present a number of images and emotions that speak to our present moment. In this time when we fear touching doorknobs, we hear about the early Christian disciples sharing everything in common. We also hear of the apostles, on the very night of Easter, locking themselves inside in fear. While we are also locked in, I hope it’s not just because of fear. We have also locked ourselves in as an act of love for our vulnerable relatives and neighbors.

On this second Sunday of Easter, we celebrate how faith and community triumph over doubt, fear, and uncertainty. On this Divine Mercy Sunday, we begin by acknowledging our sins and celebrating that God never tires of granting us mercy.


More than once in the past month, Fr. Chuck has told us at lunchtime about a fascinating news article he’s recently read. He’ll conclude by saying, “I don’t remember when I read it: perhaps a few days or a few weeks ago,” and I’ll respond, “Chuck, it was in this morning’s paper.” Whether you’re bored out of your mind, frustrated by the quarantine, or frazzled by extra work to do, it seems as if time has slowed down. 

And so, even though people are still getting horribly sick at an alarming rate, we’re also speculating about when and how we can open our society back up and reverse the economic devastation. It’s clear that at least for quite a while, we will need to proceed with an abundance of caution. We will also have to recognize the possibility of retreating back into our homes if the infections spike again.

But do we want to return to how things were before? Even in these early months of covid-19, the statistics reveal some damning facts about how we organized our society in the years before the pandemic. I worry that there will be vast differences in infection and mortality rates by race and income level. I worry that our brothers and sisters in homeless shelters, prisons, and refugee camps will have even worse outcomes than those living in nursing homes. I worry that some people will find ways to financially profit from the misfortune of others. I worry that industrialized countries will buy up all the ventilators and personal protective equipment, leaving none for people in developing nations.

At the same time, the pandemic is also revealing the fundamental compassion and goodness of millions of people, making heroic sacrifices for strangers in need. I pray that our elected officials at the local, state, national, and international level will pass relief packages that benefit those most in need. I pray that the worldwide scientific community will collaborate to share discoveries, invent therapies, and develop vaccines faster than we dream is possible. I pray that our compassion for one another never fails.

What do we want our post-pandemic world to look like? With incomprehensible numbers of people out of work, there is a temptation to simply rush back to a world as it was before, warts and all. But isn’t this also a chance to hit the “restart” button on how the world operates, to re-build our society so that there won’t be so many millions of people on the precipice of ruin even as corporations rake in record profits? 

It’s hard to believe that only two months ago, the coronavirus had not yet been declared a pandemic. A homily that I gave in early March on a totally different theme seems to take on new meaning now. Forgive me for this most egotistical act – I’m going to quote myself from back then, explaining the differences between the words change, transform, and transfigure:

To be changed means to become different. Lots of us make changes in our habits…, only to revert to our old ways [later]. To be transformed means to become thoroughly or dramatically different. It’s still a neutral term: transformation may be thorough, but it’s not necessarily better. But to be transfigured means to be elevated, to become thoroughly or dramatically more beautiful….

Are we praying for our lives to be changed, transformed, or transfigured? Likewise, are we praying for our world to be changed, transformed, or transfigured?1

Our society is clearly changing during this time of lockdown. It is likely to be transformed, but it’s not yet clear if it will be transfigured. Interestingly, when the disciples saw the risen Jesus on that Easter night, it wasn’t yet clear if their world was changing, transforming, or being transfigured. Even after Jesus’ appearance, they still locked themselves in the upper room in a combination of fear, joy, and awaiting the Holy Spirit. I wonder how long those two months of waiting felt for them. We know now that the world was transfigured: shortly after receiving the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, the disciples lived in a kind of commune, with everyone sharing equally, living in perfect harmony.2

As we remain locked in our homes, we experience fear, doubt, and uncertainty, but many of us are also experiencing community and faith in new and surprising ways. As we contemplate the future of our society, are we dominated by fear and doubt, or do we dream about participating in the transfiguration of the world?

This Easter season, more than ever, we are being challenged to live in joy even while facing our fears. Our second reading today stated it so well: “although now for a little while you may have to suffer through various trials, … your faith [is] more precious than gold… tested by fire.” Even though we may harbor doubts and fears, the Holy Spirit will not allow them to dominate our hearts. 

Easter is a season of hope. Easter is a season of confidence. Even as we await the end of lockdowns and economic devastation, let us use our God-given gifts to be part of God’s mission to reconcile the universe with its purpose. Blessed are we, who have not yet seen what the future holds, but have come to believe that we are the Body of Christ. Together with Christ, may we bring good news to the afflicted, bind up the brokenhearted, proclaim liberty to captives and release to prisoners. Together, may we announce a year of favor from the LORD and comfort all who mourn. As the earth brings forth its shoots, may we be the hands, the hearts, and the voices that will make God’s justice spring up.3 Empowered by the Holy Spirit, may we transfigure the world!


Notes:

  1. Homily for March 8, 2020.
  2.  It soon took some administrators to make things run smoothly. Acts 6:1 tells us that as “the number of disciples continued to grow, the Hellenists complained against the Hebrews because their widows were being neglected in the daily distribution.”
  3.  Inspired by Isaiah 61:1-2, 11.