Laetare! Rejoice!

(The following is a homily given on Sunday, March 15th, 2015, "Laetare Sunday" the 4th Sunday in Lent)

“Rejoice, Jerusalem, and all who love her.

Be joyful, all who were in mourning” (Is. 66:10)

 

This is from the traditional opening antiphon for today, the 4^th Sunday in Lent.  For ages this Sunday has been known by the Church as “Laetare Sunday”.  The word “Laetare” comes from the Latin, and translates into the first word of that antiphon “rejoice.”  Laetare Sunday is written into our liturgical calendar so that we will take a moment, in this season of penance, to rejoice in the coming of the New Jerusalem; the Salvation of Easter.

 It seems to be coming a little too late for me, though. I’m so tired of Lent.  I’m tired of only fish on Fridays; I’m tire of feeling the Lenten guilt all the time; I’m tired of violet vestments…

 It is human nature that when we’re tired, we tend to be less and less faithful to what we need to do or who we need to be. 

Like the Israelites, we start to forget about the coming Jerusalem; Lent becomes like a personal Babylon (II Chron. 36), where we sit and weep, remembering the good ol’ days of McDonald’s and green vestments and just being happy (see Ps. 137).  Our tongues only know how to groan and complain now, and they are silent when they should be praising the Lord.

 St. Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians that we read today, tries to move us out of this complacency.  He tells us, “Brothers and sisters,” that we are to rejoice, because we belong to a “God who is rich in mercy, because of the great love He [has] for us,” and that “even when we were dead in our transgressions, [He] brought us to life with” His Son, our Lord Jesus Christ (Eph. 2:4-5)

Through the ministry of St. Paul, our God tells us to shake off our faithlessness, because if we don’t, we will rely on ourselves, and that is the surest way to hell.  “For [it is] by grace [that we] have been saved through faith;” that ‘this [salvation] is not from [us]; it is the gift of God; it is not from [our measly] works’ that we should boast, but in the fact that our every breathe depends upon the love of God.

 And what of this love?  Why do we owe so much to this “God of Love” who sometimes we wonder even exists?  How are we to rejoice in something that escapes our understanding because sometimes it just seems too abstract?  Too irrelevant to us? 

Love is supposed to feel good, right?  It’s supposed to comfort us; it’s supposed to meet our needs, and ask no questions.  Love is supposed to be free; its’ supposed to give us what we want.  Right? 

That’s what our culture would tell us that love is. That’s what our fallen human nature would hope that love is. 

But we know better, don’t we?  When a parent loves a child, does that mean that there will be no hardship?  When a husband loves a wife, does that mean that there will never be turmoil?  Just because we love does not mean that we will not experience loss, failure, pain, or even death.

 So, what is love?

Well, What does Love say that it is?  From our Gospel reading today, love seems to be speaking loudly to us.  It tells us that it is our God and our Brother; Love says that it is utterly and completely ours; it tells us that it desires to save us. 

 “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life” (John 3:16)

 The God of Love tells us that he is not only making us a heavenly dwelling place, but making us into the New Jerusalem; the City on a Hill for the world to see, where we will need no light from lamps or the sun, for the Lord God – the God of Love – will be our light (see Rev. 21-22).

 But be forewarned: This light will burn us so that we may healed; this light will reveal our weaknesses so that we may become strong; this light will blind us, as it blinded St. Paul on the road to Damascus, so that we may see more clearly the truth we live by.

The light of God’s Love shines upon the straight and narrow path that leads to glory.  It shows us that our Lenten journey is not for nothing, but is preparing us for the salvation that awaits us.

  And so I say Laetare! Rejoice!  Be done with your self-pity; be done with your complacency.  Rejoice in the knowledge that you are given today.  Rejoice because the God of Love sees you here, at his altar, with your burdens and with your blessings. 

 

He sees you; He loves you, and He wants to save you!