From Father Steven - April 7, 2024

Dear Brothers and Sisters, Happy Easter! The other day, Archbishop Richard Henning shared an example during the Chrism Mass that stayed with me: the image of a broken clock. While I will take the idea in a slightly different direction, it offers a helpful way to reflect on the meaning of Easter. A clock is a remarkable piece of craftsmanship. It is made up of springs, gears, dials, and wheels, all carefully designed and assembled. Once everything is in place, we call it a clock. It may come in different shapes, sizes, and styles, but its purpose is the same: to tell time. But what happens when it stops working? Do we still call it a clock? Is it only a clock when it functions properly? In a similar way, we can reflect on our own lives. Each of us has been wonderfully made, with a complexity far greater than any clock—our bodies, our minds, our souls, all working together in harmony. And we, too, have a purpose: to love. Yet there are times when we fail. There are moments when we struggle to love as we should. But do we cease to be who we are because of that? Of course not. Just as a broken clock is still a clock, we do not stop being children of God—created in His image and likeness—even when we fall short. This is precisely why Christ comes to us. Through His Resurrection, He does not simply “fix” us in a superficial way. He comes to restore us completely—to make us whole. He does not just replace a part or patch us up; He offers us new life. He gives us His Spirit, a life that can overcome sin, temptation, and despair. A clock cannot repair itself, and neither can we. We often think that if we just try harder, we can fix everything on our own. But what we truly need is the One who made us. We need God to restore in us what is missing. And He desires to do so—if only we allow Him.  The Gospel of the Resurrection tells us about Mary Magdalene going to the tomb of Jesus. She and the other women wondered who would roll away the stone. It seemed like an impossible obstacle. And yet, when they arrived, the stone had already been removed. The angel announced to them that Jesus was no longer among the dead. Later, Mary encountered the Risen Lord, though at first she mistook Him for the gardener. How often do we experience something similar in our own lives? We see obstacles that feel immovable—stones we believe we cannot roll away. But Easter proclaims to us today that the stone has already been moved. What seems impossible to us is not impossible for God. This message is like the voice of the angel speaking to each of us: do not be afraid. The Risen Christ is near. But we must be willing to seek Him. Among all those who knew Jesus, it was the women—those who went looking for Him—who first received the joy of encountering Him alive. It is not a matter of worthiness or merit, but of desire. Those who long for Christ, who seek Him, will find Him. Those who remain indifferent or closed off may miss the grace that is being offered. So today, we are invited to make a decision. Do we want to remain as we are, or do we want to be made new? Christ rose from the dead to give us a new life—life in abundance—for all who are willing to receive it. And this life is given so that we may love one another as He has loved us. Finally, I would like to express my heartfelt gratitude to all who made these Holy Week celebrations possible: our staff, volunteers, musicians, and all who worked so generously behind the scenes. Please keep them in your prayers. And to all of you who have come today—whether you attend Mass every week or are here for the first time in a long while—know this: you belong here. This is your home. If there is anything we, as a parish, can do for you, please reach out. We may not be perfect, but we promise to give you our very best. Christ is Risen! Alleluia! He is truly Risen Alleluia, Alleluia! God Bless, Fr. Steven