The Middle

This homily was prepared but never preached, since I've been down all weekend with a severe bug of some sort. As they say, "Beware the Ides of March!" I hope and pray you're germ-free...

   Fourth Sunday of Lent   B 

Readings

Having recently turned 40,

I’ve been wondering just how a guy knows

when he’s entered “middle age."

So I went to the undisputed source 

of all wisdom—the Internet—

to gain some insight.

There I learned that middle age starts

when a man chooses his breakfast cereal 

for its fiber content,

instead of the free toy…

The middle.

This Sunday,

we find ourselves smack in the middle of March.

Here in the North Country,

we’re at a turning point between the seasons:

any given day—or even any given hour—

we can take a turn back toward the cold and snow of winter

or forward toward bright warmth of spring.

Our first reading finds God’s Chosen People at a turning point:

having heaped infidelity upon infidelity,

God has allowed Israel

to be brutally conquered by the Babylonians—

feeling the weight of its sinfulness.

But God takes what appeared to be punishment

and turns it into a means of purification.

When time enough has passed,

and important lessons learned, important changes made,

the Lord gives his people a fresh, new start—

and by the hand of a most unexpected agent:

another foreign king.

Here in the middle,

we’re reminded that our lives are always turning—

either more toward God, or away from him.

Our actions have consequences—to be sure—

and we must accept them…

…but the Lord also has great compassion

in the way he guides the course of history.

When we were dead in our sins,

God raised us to life again in Christ—

not as a reward for our good deeds,

but because of sheer grace.

God can draw out good

from the worst of our failures.

Here in the middle of March,

we learn that even the most punishing of winters

will yield to the new life of spring.

This Sunday,

we find ourselves right in the middle of Lent.

This fourth Sunday of Lent is Laetare Sunday—

a Sunday for rejoicing.

It’s meant to be a glad pause

in an otherwise quite sober and somber season.

The liturgy takes on a bit of a cheery tone

to encourage us as we continue with our Lenten disciplines,

heightening our anticipation as Easter comes into sight.

Here in the middle,

we’re reminded that, even when it calls us to penance—

to embrace self-denial, generous acts of charity,

and deep, soul-searching prayer—

the Gospel message is always abundantly good news.

Here in the middle of Lent, we learn again

that Christians should be a people

constantly marked by hope and joy.

And this Sunday,

we find ourselves hearing once more

the very middle of the Gospel—

not when measured by chapter and verse,

but when you get down to what it’s all about:

For God so loved the world

that he gave his only Son,

so that everyone who believes in him

might not perish but might have eternal life.

A single inspired sentences sums up

what lies at the middle, the pivot,

the hinge of all human history:

the heart of the divine plan.

We find ourselves here in the middle,

in what St. Paul describes

as the “fullness of time” (Gal 4:4, Eph 1:10),

believing that all things prior to Jesus

were leading up to him;

that all things following Jesus

are different because of him;

that nothing before or after Jesus

makes any real sense without him.

“Middle age”—according to Bob Hope—

“is when your age starts to show around your middle.”

I haven’t figured out when middle age really begins.

But I know that here,

in the middle of March, in the middle of Lent,

again hearing the middle of the Gospel,

is a really good place to be.

Make Jesus the true heart, the center, the core

of everything you are and everything you do—

keeping him right in the middle of it all—

and your life, at every turn,

will be filled with joy.