Second Sunday of Easter/Divine Mercy Sunday
/Dominica II Paschae A
19 April 2020
Divine Mercy Sunday
At times in preaching some images that might communicate a point can be more evocative, if not provocative. When a preacher employs such images he might try to prepare his congregation for the unexpected so that they don’t fall out of their seats. Today I have just such an image. And so, oddly enough in this setting, I can tell you to fasten your seatbelts… and what’s more… you can literally do so!
The evocative or provocative image, however, is not mine but comes from the Scriptures. St. Peter employed the image. It is in his letter in the Bible. And it formed the entrance antiphon of this Holy Mass. The image is that of an infant nursing and longing for the mother’s milk. It’s an image that paints a vivid picture for Christian life and the nourishment we need to grow toward our mature goal: salvation in heaven!
Interactions with parishioners at times provide very powerful things for my meditation. Maybe it is good for you to hear and to know that… that your lives bear the marks of God and the touch of the divine and things spiritual. Normally we need someone else to point that out to us, no? You have been in large, multi-generational family gatherings and you know how you enter and exit various conversations all going on at once around a table or in the living room. So it was at one such gathering of parishioners that I turned from my spot at the table because a mother with a young infant said something behind me. We began speaking and I noticed that her infant son was… well, there is no other way to say this… he was grabbing quite aggressively and intently at her blouse and even down it! He wanted to nurse and he knew how to communicate the desire.
That image came to my mind in my reflections for today’s Mass as I read the entrance antiphon, a verse from the First Letter of St. Peter: “Like newborn infants, you must long for the pure, spiritual milk, that in him you may grow to salvation.” God’s Word makes use of the image of an infant longing to nurse to tell us something about what we need in order to be transformed from infant Christians to fully mature saints in heaven.
The infant who longs to nurse is hungry and wants food. He knows where the source of that food is. Though an infant can’t explain it, he needs that food in order to grow and to mature and to become what he is supposed to become… a fully mature adult. There is a longing within the child and it is placed there for an important purpose. When that longing for the nourishment of milk is fulfilled, it helps him arrive by the process of growth to where he should be. Upon our birth into the family of Christ and his Church we begin as infants. But we are not supposed to remain there. We are supposed to grow and to mature. The goal of our growth, unlike natural life, is not simply the number or the maturity of years, but rather that of full Christian maturity and the life of heaven. Thus, the entrance antiphon could say that we must long for spiritual milk so that we may grow to salvation. It is a good and a holy desire to long for our souls to be fed. The spiritual milk we need comes to us in various ways by God’s grace. Do we bother to notice the longing of our souls? Do we know the source of our nourishment? Do we seek it, quite intently and vigorously, like that infant I saw at the family gathering? Will we go after the saving teachings of our faith and seek the practices that give life to our soul? While we are more separated from one another than normal perhaps we can ask the Lord to use this time frame to teach us to long for our spiritual nourishment and to not take it for granted when our distancing ends, even as we know that his grace still comes to us now.
But there is something still more in the lesson to be like newborn infants longing for pure, spiritual milk. The point of the image, brothers and sisters, is not merely that we seek to fulfill our soul’s longing by aggressively grabbing at the things of God. There is something more that tempers that image for us. Any mother could tell you that nursing is not only a function of the transfer of food, or only a physical act by which a baby gets nourishment. There is an intimacy and a deep union – a communion we could say – between a nursing mother and her child. Nursing is also about bonding the mother and child, not just about feeding. And there is something of God and of the spiritual life there too. I think that’s why a preacher like St. Peter would use the image.
As you and I continue to celebrate the joy of Easter and as we hear that antiphon telling us to be like newborn infants longing for pure, spiritual milk, we should note that we best not be grabbing at the things of God. Rather, we should note that our soul is called to an intimacy, to a communion with God. Our distancing, by the time it ends, would be wasted if we return to more normal practice of the faith in an entitled way, grabbing at God’s gifts. No, let’s nurture a longing within ourselves such that our return to normalcy is marked by the peaceful, contented, relaxed assurance of an infant, knowing that God feeds us. If we struggle or doubt in this odd time frame, let Jesus’ action in the Gospel we heard today assure you. What can we make of his twice appearing within that locked room where his apostles were? I suggest the lesson that we want to take away is that there are no obstacles that can prevent the Risen Lord from feeding us with his presence and his grace and his gift of peace. Just as locked doors and walls were no obstacle to him doing whatever he wanted, so our distancing, our suspension of the normal sacramental life does not create an obstacle for God who can impart the spiritual milk of his grace however and wherever. Even now in these days, long for the Lord and expect him to appear in your midst. Expect him to show the wounds that are the mark of his credibility as the one who suffers with you. Expect him to speak to you: Peace be with you!