A homily for the Third Sunday of Easter, April 14, 2024
Acts 3:13-15, 17-19, 1 Jn 2:1-5a, Lk 24:35-48
I was a guest at a wedding reception at a Jersey Shore restaurant on the Atlantic Ocean boardwalk. The sun-dappled waves were breaking almost under our feet; the food was delicious and plentiful; the other guests were fascinating and friendly.
A good time was had by all, to coin a phrase.
One element that truly elevated the evening, though, was the extraordinary service. The brigade of men and women attended to all our requests promptly and, in particular, delivered and removed the multiple courses of the meal cheerfully, seamlessly and efficiently. Not a detail was overlooked.
A+ service. A+++.
The wait staff clearly had been trained well. They clearly were working hard. They clearly were friendly and engaging while being totally professional.
To paraphrase a coach’s cliché, they came to serve.
Today’s passages from Scripture explain how the Son of God came to serve all of humankind, and indeed did serve until and beyond his dying breath. All three passages challenge us to do the same.
To follow in his footsteps. To do as he did. To imitate him.
The 600-year-old “The Imitation of Christ” by Thomas à Kempis is said to be the second-most-read book among Christians after the Bible. Today’s readings similarly give us a start on being Christlike.
(A side note: In my first encounter as a youngster with “The Imitation,” I was puzzled and ever so slightly irked. Why would anybody want a fake Christ? I wondered, having recently rebelled against imitation vanilla flavoring. I do understand this meaning of “imitation” now.)
The hospitality workers’ service at the wedding reception can give us a secular — concrete — blueprint for the service Christ modeled and expects of us.
We’ve all been blessed by this kind of service at one point, whether at a restaurant or a store or an auto mechanic’s or a medical facility. We’ve rated somebody five stars on Yelp. We’ve given somebody an extra-big tip.
So let’s break down what goes into this kind of service and apply it to how we live the Gospel in Jesus’s name.
Let’s start with self-examination. What gifts and talents and skills and, yes, attitudes did God create us with? What are our shortcomings? How much time and treasure can we realistically afford to share?
Are we kind by nature?
Once we truly know ourselves, we know how best we can serve.
Christlike service requires observation and anticipation.
Just as the wait staff never let a water glass go dry or a dirty dish sit in front of a guest for more than a minute or two, so we should keep our eyes open for our sisters and brothers in need.
Because someone somewhere needs us. The wealth gap in this country alone demonstrates that. Natural disasters and wars born of hate and greed worldwide amplify that.
Christlike service requires appropriateness.
We should listen when someone needs an ear. We should think and pray before giving advice, and only when someone asks us for it. Almost never should advice be unsolicited.
We should comfort anyone mourning the loss of a loved one — or a similar tragedy — gently. Telling someone “I know how you feel” is strictly forbidden. We don’t and can’t know. It doesn’t help.
At the tomb of his beloved Lazarus, Jesus wept. Those are two of the most powerful and revealing words in the entire New Testament. That’s good enough for us.
Christlike service requires appropriate action.
We should lend a hand when we can, whether to open and hold a door, or to heft a ShopRite bag into someone’s trunk, or to help chase fallen papers as they’re scattered by the wind.
(We fans of the movie “Love, Actually” know not to disturb the eels.)
If we have the means and the opportunity, we should donate some of our treasure to legitimate charities, especially if their work is too far away or too divergent from our particular skills for us to lend a hand.
Whatever we do, it must be timely. No firefighter ever expected to wait until the next day to extinguish a blaze.
Christlike service requires cheerful love.
Because a smile from the Christ within us can change someone’s day for the better.
Because Jesus always shares the load with us. Because he never asks us to do the impossible, only — sometimes — the difficult.
Because Emmanuel did far more for us, still does more for us, out of the pureness of his loving being, than we could ever hope to tally.
