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If we put ourselves in the place of the disciples of Jesus on the day he ascended into heaven, we can easily see why they were standing there looking up. We, too, would be beside ourselves, bewildered that things were about to change dramatically. They had become comfortable, even at peace, with the Lord’s presence. In spite of the trauma of his death, they came to know him even more intimately in his resurrection. Like the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, their hearts were burning within at the thought that their beloved was alive. Now he was leaving them again.How would we have handled that? Even though he had instructed us in what we had to do to live out his message and mission, this event would have stumped us. Change is never easy. Some change is inevitable. Some change is unexpectedly catastrophic. Change can bring hope. Change can bring despair. So we can understand the dilemma that apparently overcame Jesus’ disciples. And often in the face of change we are stymied, stumped. But the Holy Spirit challenges us just as the Spirit challenged those first disciples: …why are you standing there looking at the sky?Is there some connection here? Do we have something in common with the disciples on that mountain? I think we do. I would like to offer two very significant connections.This weekend I celebrate the Eucharist at St. Lawrence, the Cleveland faith community of my childhood. They are in the process of preparing for the closing of this 108 year-old parish. It is a time of change. It is not a surprise. It was one of those inevitable changes in life. But that does not make it any less painful. Just seeing the pictures of that once vital community fills me with a sense of loss that goes beyond the simple closing of a church. But like the disciples at Bethany coming to grips with the departure of their Master, we are confronted by the challenge to stop looking at the past and begin living the message and the mission that sustained our faith community for over a century. That message was well taught by our long-time pastor, Monsignor John J. Oman, who came to pastor St. Lawrence in 1915 and remained our pastor for a near record forty-seven years. Father Oman became pastor of this little Slovenian parish when it was a community of immigrants who were in need of guidance and support from a familiar and trusted source. Father Oman filled that role. As the number of immigrants increased, he helped them acclimate themselves to the new environment, led them to self-sufficiency and independence, and nurtured a supportive community.For this we should be grateful. But that gratitude should not just rest in a shrine of nostalgia. What Father Oman did for our parish, we can do for others. That takes us to a second connection.On January 12th, Haiti suffered a devastating 7.0-magnitude earthquake. Already the poorest nation in our hemisphere, Haiti was brought to its knees by the deadly disaster. Over 200,000 lives were lost, countless people injured and homes and businesses decimated.Food for the Poor, the second largest international charity in the United States, for whom I preach every weekend, has operated in Haiti since 1987, and that poverty-stricken country has always held a special place in our hearts. Currently the earthquake has presented us with the greatest challenge yet, as we help the people of Haiti begin the process of recovery and rebuilding.The rebuilding process will require years of hard work and dedication—and this will only be possible through the steadfast compassion of those who, in the face of confusion and change, do not stay locked in the past. That’s why I have come to this parish community of my past. I ask you to step forward and exercise the kind of selfless leadership that Father Oman modeled for us. To honor his memory, we can build as many houses in Haiti as possible. The St. Lawrence community will celebrate the anniversary of his birth next weekend, and I would ask that this appeal be extended to that celebration as well. I would also ask the members of my “cyber congregation,” those who receive these homilies each weekend via the Internet, to join with us. Being faced with significant changes, we should see them as a challenge. The disciples did not stay wrapped in the past for long. Father Oman freely left his home to help build a faith community we came to know and love. And we, disciples of these disciples, are asked to accept the challenges presented to us, remembering the exhortation of Ephesians:May the eyes of your hearts be enlightened,that you may know what is the hope that belongs to his call. For those reading this homily on the Internet, I would ask you to use the Food for the Poor link to the right or mail your donation to
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