Community blog

Have you heard the story about the man who ordered a tree house over the internet? When the box arrived, it had printed on the top the words that have become every parent's nightmare: "Some assembly required."

 The man began to assemble the tree house (but would you believe it?) as he laid out all the parts on the floor and began reading the instructions, he realized (to his dismay) that the instructions were indeed for a tree house? but the parts were for a sail boat!!

It was Julian of Norwich who wrote those inspired words that 'all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.' They are words that are particularly poignant tonight because they sum up the transformation in the followers of Jesus that we celebrate on Ascension Day, for on this day strange, as it may seem we celebrate Christ's leaving his disciples.

But his leaving them is not a sombre occasion. It is full of joy and hope and reminds us how their lives had changed, of how they had come to trust in God's ultimate purpose for them and believe that all will indeed be well because Christ will always be with them.

ln his farewell address, as Jesus summarizes his teachings one last time, he also reassures his bewildered disciples that they will not be left on their own, abandoned to fend for themselves, to rely on their own resources and their own wits. Maybe, though, we all need to know exactly what the expectations are. We want to measure up, fulfil our obligations, and make the grade. So what does Jesus tell his disciples to do? He tells them to keep his commandments, and it's no surprise that "love" is in the very same sentence with "obey my commandments."

A first year student in a Catholic seminary was told by the dean that he should plan to preach the sermon in chapel the following day. He had never preached a sermon before, he was nervous and afraid, and he stayed up all night, but in the morning, he didn’t have a sermon. He stood in the pulpit, looked out at his classmates and said “Do you know what I am going to say?” All of them shook their heads “no” and he said “Neither do I. The service has ended. Go in peace.”

Easter is late this year—a day short of the latest date possible—. In fact, the factors that determine the date of the Church’s prime moveable feast are so unusual this year that an eighth Sunday is an astronomical and liturgical rarity. There was no Eighth Sunday in 2008 or 2005 or even 2002. This week’s reading of Matthew 6—rare in the Sunday cycle but familiar in our hearing—couldn’t be more timely.

Today's Gospel reading actually begins in the very same place of the very same Gospel as the one assigned for the Second Sunday of Advent. Only five weeks later and we find ourselves right back where we started. It's as if Christmas never came after all. And if we're honest with ourselves that feels about right, right now. Before we know it, we're back in the wilderness. Before we know it, we're back in line waiting for what John offers: forgiveness for our sins and a thorough dunking in the grace of God. And, yet, even as we're going under again, we know that sooner or later we'll be right back here holding our breath for a miracle. After all, that is the way it has always been. That is the way we have always been. Why should we expect it to be any different this time around?