Are we an Easter people?

I love to read historical biographies, and among my favorites are books about Abraham Lincoln and the other figures of the Civil War. Reading the biographies makes the history come alive, relaying very human details that made all the difference—human details that you don’t always get in dry history survey courses.

 

In September of 1862, the Civil War had reached a decisive point in favor of the South. The morale of the Northern army was at its lowest point in the war. Large numbers of Union troops were in full retreat in Virginia. Northern leaders began to fear the worst. They saw no way to reverse the situation and turn the beaten, exhausted troops into a useful army again.

 

Abraham Lincoln, however, came up with a solution. There was only one general with the ability to turn things around. That was General George McClellan. He had trained the men for combat and they admired him. But neither the War Department nor the rest of the Cabinet members saw this connection. Only Lincoln did.

 

Fortunately, Lincoln ignored the protests of his advisors and reinstated McClellan in command. He told the general to go down to Virginia and give those soldiers something no one else could: enthusiasm, strength and hope. McClellan accepted the command. He mounted his great black horse and started down the dusty Virginia roads.

 

What happened next is hard to describe. General McClellan met the retreating Union columns, waved his cap in the air and shouted words of encouragement. When the worn out men saw their beloved teacher and leader, they began to take heart once again. They were moved with an unshakeable feeling that now things could be different, that finally things could be all right again. Down mile after mile of Virginia roads stumbling columns came alive. Men threw their caps, and yelled until they could yell no more. And this, in a way, was a major turning point of the war.

 

We find a similar situation in today’s gospel reading. It is obvious that some of Jesus’ closest followers were demoralized at the crucifixion. They did the one thing they knew how to do: they returned to their former way of life—fishing. This was the one thing they were good at, and yet, like the demoralized soldiers during the Civil War, they failed miserably.

 

And then, they encountered someone they did not quite recognize, giving them directions that they probably were reluctant to follow. And at the instructions of the stranger, they caught so many fish that their nets started to tear. I often wondered: who stopped to count the catch? I mean “one hundred fifty-three large fish”—who cares? Well, it turns out that, at that time that was the number of species of fish that were known. So the catch suggests, not just a large number, but a number that is complete. And when the despairing disciples recognized Jesus, risen from the dead, they were complete, whole again, as it were.

 

But not quite. There’s a bit more to the story. One of the details that might be overlooked is that Jesus had a charcoal fire going for the fish to be roasted on. There was the mention of a charcoal fire once before. As Peter and another disciple were following the arrested Jesus at a distance, they stopped to warm themselves at a charcoal fire. That was when Peter began to deny that he knew Jesus, not once, but three times, as Jesus had predicted. And so, now you have the three-fold question and response: “Do you love me?” “Lord, you know I love you.” “Then, tend my sheep, feed my lambs…”

 

Peter needed to know that Jesus had forgiven him for his failure. Peter probably needed to forgive himself. And I’m not sure he ever was totally able to. Tradition has it that, when Peter was crucified for being a leader of those who were disciples of Jesus, he asked to be crucified upside down, since he was not worthy of dying exactly in the same way as his Master.

 

At any rate, just as General George McClellan revitalized and reawakened the despairing northern army, so now Jesus, risen and fully alive, was revitalizing his despairing disciples, unleashing a force that would become a world-wide movement. Just as the tomb could not defeat Jesus, so now the realization that he was alive, never to die again, changed everything for his followers. And they became fearless, totally committed to their mission of spreading the word, refusing to stop even when threatened with imprisonment and death. As McClellan changed the outcome for the northern army, so Jesus, the risen one, has changed the outcome of humanity’s history. Our life is no longer aimed at death. Death is now defeated. Death is now officially dead, and we are on a journey that takes us through death to eternity.

 

Pope Francis has often complained that too many Christians are “sourpusses” who go around with gloom and despair on their faces. It’s as if we’ve never heard the story of Easter, or that we don’t quite believe it or understand its significance. We are destined for glory, for eternal life, for the life that God imagined for us, the life that God calls us to, the life we are already living at this moment. So, let’s try to drink in the full significance of Easter; let’s stop being sourpusses; let’s not be a Good Friday people, dejected and defeated and angry at life! Let’s be an Easter people who, even though we face struggles and suffering, an Easter people who know that’s not the end of the story, that’s not who we are, that’s not where we’re headed!

You might also like

Father's Homilies

Homily for the First Sunday of Advent November 30, 2025

By Charlene Currie • December 4, 2025
How Far Do You Want to Go?

Homily for the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe November 23, 2025

By Charlene Currie • November 28, 2025
Prairie Chickens and Eagles Homily for the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe November 23, 2025 An American Indian tells about a brave who found an eagle’s egg and put it into the nest of a prairie chicken. The eaglet hatched with the brood of chicks and grew up with them. All its life the changeling eagle, thinking it was a prairie chicken, did what the other prairie chickens did. It scratched in the dirt for seeds and insects to eat. It clucked and cackled. And it flew in a brief thrashing of wings and flurry of feathers no more than a few feet off the ground. After all, that’s how prairie chickens were supposed to fly. Years passed, and the changeling grew very old. One day it saw a magnificent bird soaring far above in the cloudless sky. Hanging with graceful majesty on the powerful wind currents, it soared with scarcely a beat of its strong golden wings. “What a beautiful bird!” said the changeling eagle to its neighbor. “What is it?” “That’s an eagle—the chief of the birds,” the neighbor clucked. “But don’t give it a second thought. You could never be like him.” So, the changeling eagle never gave it another thought. And it died thinking it was a prairie chicken. Today, we are celebrating the fact that Jesus Christ is the King of all God’s creation. And yet, it is strange that the gospel passage chosen for this feast is the scene of Jesus’ crucifixion. Notice how weak he is. Consider how he is laughed at and made fun of. “He saved others, let him save himself if he is the chosen one, the Christ of God….If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself.” So, the problem is one of expectations. The bystanders were looking for an eagle, and all they saw before them was a prairie chicken! And yet, at the end of the gospel, this prairie chicken seems to have some power that prairie chickens don’t normally have. When Jesus is asked by the thief being crucified with him, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom,” Jesus replies, “Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” Hardly a promise that could be made by a prairie chicken! What’s going on here? I’d like to refer us to a passage we find in the writings of St. Paul, a section of his letter to the Philippians that is the second reading on Palm Sunday, when we reflect on the crucifixion of Jesus. Here it is: “Christ Jesus, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness; and found human in appearance, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Because of this, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” Jesus taught the way of humility and service. He came to raise others up, especially those who were bowed down by poverty or prejudice. He taught that there was no greater love than to lay down one’s life for the love of others. Greatness is found not in building oneself up at the expense of others, but in building up others, especially those who need it the most. So, Jesus emptied himself, to the point of looking like a prairie chicken, and in doing so he showed us the way to the eternal kingdom by means of humble service, that we might become who we truly are, eagles destined to soar beyond the clouds.

Homily for the Thirty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time November 16, 2025

By Charlene Currie • November 28, 2025
Too Stubborn to Quit. Homily for the Thirty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time November 16, 2025 The California coast was blanketed in fog July 4, 1952. Twenty-one miles to the west, on Catalina Island, Florence Chadwick, a 34-year-old-long-distance-swimmer, waded in to the water and began swimming toward the California coast. She had already conquered the English Channel, swimming in both directions. Now she was determined to be the first woman to swim the Catalina Channel. As the hours ticked off, Chadwick fought bone-chilling cold, dense fog, and sharks. Several times, sharks had to be driven off by rifles. Fatigue never set in, but the icy water numbed her to the point of exhaustion. Straining to make out the shore through her swimmer’s goggles, she could see only a dense fog. She knew she could not go any farther. Although not a quitter, Chadwick shouted to her trainer and her mother in the boat and asked to be taken out of the water. They urged her not to give up, but when she looked toward the California coast, all she could see was thick fog. So after fifteen hours and fifty-five minutes of fighting the elements, she was hauled from the channel into the boat. Frozen to the bone and her spirit defeated, Chadwick was devastated when she discovered she was only a half-mile from the coast! She felt the shock of failure…. Two months later, Chadwick swam that same channel, and again fog clouded her vision, but this time she swam with her faith intact—that somewhere behind that fog was land. This time she succeeded. Not only was she the first woman to swim the Catalina Channel, but she beat the men’s record by two hours. A line from this story that struck me was: “this time she swam with her faith intact.” Florence Chadwick was able to persevere to her goal because she believed she could do it. In today’s gospel passage, Jesus speaks about the challenges and threats that will be faced by the first disciples when they go out into the world and start proclaiming the message. He doesn’t mince words or paint a rosy picture. Tough times of suffering will come. But then he adds, “By your perseverance you will secure your lives.” In reflecting on this teaching, I was reminded of another Bible story. The disciples are in a boat crossing a lake. Jesus had stayed behind to spend some time in prayer. Then, late at night, he comes toward them, walking on the water. The disciples are frightened, thinking they’re seeing a ghost. Jesus tries to reassure them, when Simon Peter yells, “Lord, if it is really you, command that I walk on the water toward you.” Jesus invites him to do so, and Peter steps out of the boat and actually walks on the water toward Jesus. But then, he looks down and notices the threatening situation he is in. And he begins to sink. Jesus has to fish him out of the water and get him back into the boat (Cf. Matthew 14:22-33). What makes the difference? As long as Peter keeps his eyes on Jesus, he can do the seemingly impossible. When he focuses on the threat, he sinks. We find something similar in the writings of St. Paul. In his first letter to the Corinthians, he writes, “You know that while all the runners in the stadium take part in the race, the award goes to one man. In that case, run so as to win! Athletes deny themselves all sorts of things. They do this to win a crown of leaves that withers, but we a crown that is imperishable. I do not run like a man who loses sight of the finish line…” (1 Cor 9:24-26). So, when we have to face difficulties, when we live in hard times, when we feel left out or let down, how are we supposed to keep going? Florence Chadwick failed when she couldn’t see the finish line. When she found faith withing herself again, she was able to go back and reach her goal. Peter was even able to walk on water, but only as long as he kept his eyes on Jesus. And Paul writes that he has been able to keep going, even while facing all sorts of hardships, because he has never lost sight of the goal. When facing challenges, a stubborn faith is required; perseverance is needed. It’s very easy to give up, to call it quits, to feel that there’s no way to face all the problems that pile up. We don’t have to face life’s challenges alone. Jesus is with us. And he asks us to be there for each other. He asks us to persevere, to have faith, to be too stubborn to quit.