2nd Sunday of Easter (Sunday of Divine Mercy – B) – April 7, 2024

St. Paul – Lyons, KS

Acts 4:32-35; Psalm 118:2-4, 13-15, 22-24; 1 John 5:1-16; John 20:19-31

The Revolution Begins

This past week, during this octave of Easter, I had the chance to watch the new biopic of Napoleon Bonaparte, the new Ridley Scott movie with Joaquin Phoenix playing Napoleon. And I’m not endorsing the movie, definitely not for kids. But it was fascinating! I had never really learned much about the French Revolution or Napoleon—here in the United States, we’re more infatuated with our own revolution, and so we skip the one that (in the grand scheme of things) was actually more important in terms of world history. And so I went down a French Revolution rabbit hole!

But as I continued to learn about it, and as I was reflecting on the movie about Napoleon, one of those figures in history that we compare to Alexander the Great or Julius Caesar—as I reflected on him, especially in light of Easter and what we’re celebrating—as I reflected on his incredible influence in history and the world—at the end I still was left with a profound sadness. Because at the end of the day, whether you want to argue that the revolution was successful or not, whether you want to argue that Napoleon was a great man or not—at the end of the day, Napoleon failed. And not just the fact that he was exiled, no. He failed because his life, the great desire in his life—it was too small. At the height of it, he was the most powerful man in the world. But he failed because he didn’t desire enough. He wanted the whole world, but that isn’t enough. That line from Jesus kept coming back to me, “What does it profit a man to gain the whole world, but forfeit his life?” (Mark 8:36).

And humanity has done this over and over! The revolutions that ensued—we could argue about how effective or ineffective they were, how good or bad, on and on. But they were always too little. And what I mean is not that they should have been more extreme or violent, no no no. What I mean is that they never wanted enough. They wanted more peace, or justice, equality, taxation with representation—ok. But it was never enough. Why? Because not one ever addressed the problem. And that’s the problem I was talking about last week on Easter: the problem that we are going to die. 

And so in that sense, only one revolution has ever succeeded. Only one. And that’s the revolution begun by Jesus Christ’s Paschal Mystery, by his life, death, resurrection and ascension. Every other revolution, if you take a step back—every revolution changes some things about the world, makes things better or worse. But ultimately, they leave us in the exact same position. Nothing has changed. Only the resurrection of Jesus Christ, the revolution begun by him, succeeds.

The Day the Revolution Began

Today we’re beginning our Easter series. And we’re calling it The Day the Revolution Began (note: this title was borrowed from the best-selling book of the same name by N.T. Wright). If I were to ask you to describe Catholicism or Christianity, many if not most people would talk about “God saving me from my ‘sins’ so that I can ‘go to heaven’ when I die.” But I like to point out: “Well, then wouldn’t it be better for me to kill you once I baptize you?” Think about it. If baptism washes away Original Sin, and in that moment you’re perfectly free from sin, well then shouldn’t we kill you so that you can go straight to heaven? By the looks horror on your faces, you understand how weird that is. And yet, we think it and say it all the time. That’s why our faith is not just about being free from sin and going to heaven when we die. It can’t be! There must be something else! Something else must be going on!

What Jesus begins through his passion, death, resurrection and ascension is not just a magic way to go to heaven when you die, no. Jesus begins a revolution. Like I said on Easter, Jesus’ resurrection is the first new thing ever to happen in history; Jesus didn’t just come back from the dead, Jesus conquered death itself! This is the revolutionary fact that gives our faith a reason for existing. That is the day this revolution began.

So how do revolutions work? Simple. First, you need a new vision of reality. Second, you need a dynamic leader. Third, you need a jumping-off point. And fourth you need a firm commitment to this, a loyalty to this new way of life. 1) So a new vision of reality. Think of the ideals that led to the American Revolution: government by, with, and for the people; no taxation without representation; life, liberty, pursuit of happiness. The French Revolution had many of the same. 2) A dynamic leader. America had Thomas Jefferson, George Washington, Alexander Hamilton. France had Napoleon, Emmanuel Joseph Sieyès. 3) A jumping-off point. America had the Boston Tea Party, France had the Storming of the Bastille. 4) And a commitment to this, a loyalty to this new way of life. You had to choose a side.

So this is what I mean by the resurrection as the day the revolution began. Not that we need to become violent, no; Jesus is renowned for his non-violence. “Put your sword back in it’s sheath,” right? But look. Jesus presents a new vision of reality: the gospel, the sermon on the mount, turn the other cheek, the last shall be first, render unto Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God, those who want to save their life will lose is; go, sell what you have and give it to the poor, then come, follow me. On and on. This is a new vision of reality. The dynamic leader is Jesus (duh!), but also the Apostles, handed on through the Church. The jumping-off point, then, is what we are celebrating in these days: the Paschal Mystery, his life, death, resurrection, and (soon) ascension. This is the beginning of the revolution! Everything has changed! Everything is different! But now the question remains: how will we secure victory? And the answer is commitment to this, loyalty to this way of life. It’s what we call “faith.” And that’s what our readings are getting at today. It is faith, commitment to this new vision of reality, to Jesus Christ, to his Church. Our faith is a revolutionary fact in this world—not just a superstitious reciting of words and prayers to get us to heaven. Faith is the path to victory. But victory over who or what? France had the monarchy. America had Great Britain. What about us?

Victory by Faith

So what does this mean? In our second reading today, John is getting at precisely this: “The victory that conquers the world is our faith” (1 John 5:4). So the path to victory is faith, faith will conquer. But who or what will faith conquer? The world. St. Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians, said, “Our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against…the cosmic powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” St. John just says, “The World.”

We talked about this back during Advent, remember? We fight a battle on three “fronts”: the World, the Flesh, and the Devil, right? The World is a powerful enemy. When Scripture talks about the world, sometimes it’s referring to the globe, sometimes it’s referring to humanity (“for God so love the world…”). But there is a third way the term “the world” is used. And it’s the idea of the World as a system of ideas, and values, and morals, and ways of operating, and social norms—ideas, values, morals, way of operating, and norms which have been skewed by the deceits of the Devil and the desires of the Flesh, and are leading us nowhere, fast!

 Remember the story of the man from China I always tell? How in China he was captured and tortured for his faith, was willing to die for his faith—but he comes here to this country, and he became so busy and so wealthy that he didn’t even go to Mass anymore. What torture and the threat of martyrdom had not been able to accomplish in this man, our culture, the World was able to do—and it didn’t even have to try.

The World is not “neutral.” It’s destroying us. The world is that “option 1” I was talking about last week. The World tells us that death is just a fact of life, get over it, “eat and drink, tomorrow we die,” you do you, enjoy life while you can! This is a very particular vision of the world! This isn’t a “baseline” or “normal” way to see things. It is a way of seeing things completely different than the gospel, completely different than seeing things with the eyes of faith. This leads you to make decisions and live your life completely differently! And what are the results? I shared that last week: the more and more people drift away from God and faith in the resurrection, the more and more those three deaths of despair go up; the more people live life going toward a dead end; the more we are numbing out with screens; the more life feels hopeless.

The revolution Jesus begins is against that. The Boston Tea party was the definitive act that said: “We are done living life under rule of Ol’ Blighty, ol’ Great Britain.” The Storming of the Bastille was the act that said, “We are no longer going to allow the French monarchy and elites to trample all over us, leave us in hunger.” Jesus’ death and resurrection were the definitive act: death is no longer the end; “eat and drink for tomorrow we die” is no longer the only option; the World, Option 1, that way of life is no longer our story! 

So what is the plan to overcome this? Faith. “The victory that conquers the world is our faith,” St. John says. Faith in Jesus Christ, faith in his resurrection, joining the revolution.

The Concrete Response of Faith

So this all leads to one question, then: so what does this look like? The Americans took up pens and drafted a new constitution, and fought a bloody war. The French did something similar. What about us? Like I mentioned last Sunday, most people are choosing Option 1 but calling it Option 2, saying that they have faith in Jesus. Most people will say they believe in God, in Jesus, that he rose from the dead—good people, kind people, great people! In other words, our faith remains ethereal, not concrete, doesn’t change anything. We say one thing (“I believe in Jesus”) but we continue to live according to faith in Option 1, faith in the World.

Our faith demands concrete action, a concrete response. What if, after the Boston Tea Party, everyone just kept paying taxes on tea to Britain? What if the British soldiers came and everyone just said, “Oh yeah, sorry about that, we’ll clean it all up and pay for it.” What if Thomas Jefferson drafted “The Declaration of Total Dependence on Britain”?! Nothing would have happened!! Exactly! No, they stopped paying taxes, fought the soldiers, declared independence. Same for us! From the beginning, the people began to live their faith in Jesus Christ and in his resurrection in very real, concrete and tangible ways! Go back to the second reading. St. John says, “We love God and obey his commandments. For the love of God is this, that we keep his commandments. And his commandments are not burdensome, for whoever is begotten by God conquers the world. And the victory that conquers the world is our faith.” Faith is concretely lived out, for one, by following the commandments of God, living according to this new vision of reality: the gospel, the sermon on the mount, turn the other cheek, the last shall be first; go, sell what you have and give it to the poor, then come, follow me; on and on!

And we could talk about commandments and moral teachings and the sermon on the mount and on and on. But let’s keep it simple. What was most fundamental to this revolutionary way of living? This new revolution that had begun? Well first, look at our first reading. So this passage is taken right after Peter’s sermon on Pentecost, this is what happens when people begin living this faith. We’re told, “The community of believers was of one heart and mind.” Do you remember on Palm Sunday, the word St. Paul used to describe what we need to do? We need to have the same “mind” as Jesus, the same phroneó—the same mind, the same heart. This means that we aren’t just hanging out became we like each other, or we all get along, no. What brings us together is our faith, the fact that we see reality in light of the resurrection, we are dedicating our lives to this, to this “revolution.” We have the same mind and heart. So much so that (how does the reading continue?) “no one claimed that any of his possessions was his own.” Look how radical their vision of reality was! They were so united, such a unity existed, a communion among them, that money wasn’t even a source of division. But even more basic and fundamental is that from the beginning, these people, the Christian people, Catholics have gathered “on the first day of the week.” So this profound unity, this unity that comes from God, the most fundamental sign of this, the fundamental gesture since the beginning—the people gathered on the first day of the week. We hear that in today’s gospel, we hear it throughout the New Testament: the people gathered on the first day of the week, on Sunday. Sunday became the day of revolution. And we’ll talk about this more in the coming weeks.

But the point is this: the day the revolution began changed everything, but it was just that; the beginning. To place our faith in the resurrection means to enact this faith in real, concrete gestures. Revolutions don’t happen in our minds, they happen in real life. We can’t say we’re taking option 2, but keep following option 1. What if this year is the year when we take that seriously, and Sunday becomes more than just a day we go to church (although that’s essential)—but what if it becomes the day totally reclaimed for the Lord? We don’t have to change the world, but we can be victorious over it. How? By our faith lived out in real, concrete ways. What if Sunday became just that? A day reclaimed for the Lord. Perhaps that is a victory worth fighting for.