Dear Friends,
Our nation pauses to remember this weekend those who died in service to country. Over the years, this weekend has expanded to be a cultural time for remembering all of our loved ones who have died, not just those who served in the military. My mother always made sure that we put out the flowers on the graves of our family members days ahead of the weekend, so that those who came to pay a visit to the cemetery on Memorial Day would see our flowers and know that we cared about our deceased family members. Neglecting your deceased loved ones was not the way you wanted to be known.
This weekend may bring up very sad memories for people, memories of loved ones who died early or without the chance for personal reconciliation to take place. Death reminds us of the fragileness of human life. How helpless human love can feel when faced with the ultimate reality of death. No one who has ever lost a loved one can be immune to the deep feelings of discouragement, guilt, hopelessness and fear that comes with the death of someone we love.
However, what we celebrate this Easter season is that we are not without hope or consolation. We believe in the ultimate redeeming power of God’s love, a power far beyond our own. God’s love is not limited in the same way as our love.
I have always liked the image of Jesus coming through the walls into the locked room where the disciples were hiding out of fear. I find it consoling that even though the doors were locked, Jesus was able to get in. When I lock the doors to my heart because of fear or anger, Jesus is still able to get in. Unlike our love, God’s love can get through locked doors, enter closed hearts and bring peace.
A line we say in the Apostles Creed reflects a similar belief in the power of God’s love. We say Jesus “descended into hell” which means that after his own death Jesus went to the realm of the dead where all those who had died before him were waiting to be freed and join him in heaven. I like to think, when I say those words that Jesus’ love for us is so great that he enters into our private hells to free us from our fears, our hatreds, and the barriers we have built. He descends into my mess so that I might be free.
My grandmother had one of those paintings hanging in her living room of Jesus standing outside a home knocking on the door. What was striking about the painting was that there was no doorknob on the door. It could only be opened from the inside. I am sure many preachers have used that image over the years to encourage people to open their hearts to Jesus and it is a good image. However, being the obnoxious child that I was, I would say to my siblings when we sat in our grandmother’s living room that Jesus does not need a doorknob – he can go through walls! He is not politely waiting. He comes in to be with us just as he did to the disciples in Jerusalem.
I still think that is the truth. Jesus goes through walls not like a superhero, but he goes through the walls that we put up to keep God out. There is no private hell, no wall of fear, depression, sickness or bitterness that God’s love cannot penetrate. During our times of great grief or loss we may not be aware of it, but God is right there with us. He greets us, as he did the disciples, with a word of peace.
May you feel his presence this week and know he has come inside your walls.
Fr. Damian