Fifth Sunday of Lent

John 12:20-33

 

“And when I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw everyone to myself.”  John12: 32

 

          In 2004 Josh Groban helped make famous a beautiful song entitled “You Raise Me Up.”  It is a song that speaks to our faith.  It reminds us of God’s transformative power to transcend our human weaknesses and have the strength to become true agents of God’s love for His people.

          I remember the first time I heard this song.  Quite honestly, my first thoughts were not of God, but of my own father as I heard the words, “I am strong, when I am on your shoulders.”   I immediately and spontaneously  (and tearfully) had the image of myself as a toddler riding on Daddy’s shoulders, feeling so delighted – and so loved.  And, of course, that memory just led me to appreciate the remaining lyrics as a reminder of the more important ways that my father lifted me up.  In the scant 20 years I had him in my life (he died young) he taught me all I needed to know to become a man.  He truly raised me up  “…to be more than I can be.”  More than anything my dad taught me to always trust in God in every situation, and to always do the right thing no matter the cost.  His love for me came with sacrifice, of course.  The usual sacrifices of a man for his family, but more.  Sacrifices he had made in his life based on his faith and convictions.  He was exempt from military service during World War II, but went anyway.  And paid the price.  He was a strong believer in unions to protect the rights of workers, yet sided with management when a corrupt mob-run union tried to take over his shop. And paid the price.   He epitomized Jesus’ words, “… unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but it it dies, it produces much fruit.”

          It's all about sacrifice.  It’s all about dying and rising.  It’s all about resurrection.  To bring God’s heavenly Kingdom to the here and now.  That is what Jesus teaches us.  Throughout his earthly life Jesus constantly sacrificed for others.  Ultimately, he was lifted up on the cross at his crucifixion.  He was then lifted up to new life at His Resurrection.  The Father lifted Him up … to be more than He could be.  And God did this for us.  To lift US up and make US more than we could be.

          And today, as this gospel passage once again calls to my mind the words of Groban’s song, I cannot  help but think of another “Father.”    I speak of a great priest and a great man, Father Frank Gaeta.  Fr. Frank passed away two Sundays ago.  I think, perhaps, that it was a divine coincidence that Fr. Fank went home to the Lord on a Sunday – the day we gather to worship and commemorate that Sunday so long ago when Jesus was lifted up in resurrection by His Father. I came to know Fr. Frank when he became pastor at St. Brigid’s back in 1989 and there is not a person who knew him that I speak with who doesn’t recall how deeply Fr. Frank inspired them and made them who they are today.  Whether it’s a person who was brought back to the faith because of him; the person who converted because of him; the person who felt called to ministry, because of him; the priest who says, “He taught me how to be a priest.”   And there is hardly a person who knew him that hasn’t said at least once after hearing one of his homilies, “I felt as if he was speaking directly to me.”  And as he touched each one of our hearts individually, he built community.  A community that supported all its members in every way – in prayer and worship and love for our God; in helping each other when one or the other was going through a difficult time; in feeding the hungry, welcoming the stranger and reaching out to the lost sheep.  He raised us up … to be more than we can be.

          And this did not come without sacrifice. He made the sacrifices that a priest is called to make but went above and beyond in time, energy, personal well being – no matter what the cost.  No matter what the price.  For sure, he never became famous; he never gained the prominence of, let’s say, becoming a bishop or a Cardinal. He never entered a church carrying a crozier – the crook that represents a bishop as shepherd of his flock – but no bishop I have ever known has been more of a shepherd to his flock than Fr. Frank. 

          Now, I know that this reflection may seem a bit too personal.  No one reading this knew my father; many did not know Fr. Frank.  Yet, I offer these remembrances in the hope that it will prompt the reader to think of those people in his or her life who lifted them up to be more than then they could be.  Just as the grain of wheat would only remain a grain of wheat, the words of this gospel would remain only words, but for those people in our lives who made sacrifices for us so that these words would have life.  Remember them.  Thank God for them.  Pray to them.

          And now it is up to us. Will we remain just a grain of wheat, or will we “die” and bear fruit, and lift up our brothers and sisters, in His name … to be more than they can be?

 

         “Call me Ishamel”