Bust Your Brackets! (Fr. Evan Ponton, Easter Sunday, 4/9/2023)

My Easter Homily: "Bust Your Brackets"

. . .

Who made a bracket this March Madness? Whose bracket got busted? Who doesn’t know what I’m talking about?

I’m talking about the NCAA college basketball tournament this year in Houston. Colleges across the country compete all-season long to earn a coveted spot in the sixty-four teams for a chance to win a national title. Each round, sixty-four turns into thirty-two, then onto the Sweet Sixteen, the Elite Eight, the Final Four, and then the National Championship. This past Sunday and Monday night, respectively, LSU and Iowa women and San Diego State and UConn men battled for the national championship.

Holy Week is the Original March Madness. Let me explain. On Sunday we celebrated Palm Sunday, the triumphal entry of Jesus into the Holy City of God—not Houston—but Jerusalem. Until this point, the regular season of his ministry, Jesus has been scoring victory after victory for the Kingdom of God, performing miracles and healings, expelling demons, teaching and forgiving sins, gathering a fanbase of followers.

But Jesus comes from a backwater town (“what good can come from Nazareth?”). Jesus enters the tournament as a sixteen seed. He is poised to go up against the powerhouse dynasties of the day, the number one seeds: the Roman Empire and Pilate; the Chief Priests and Pharisees who have studied his every move; the Evil One, Satan, the Father of lies and temptation. When Holy Week in Jerusalem begins, Jesus has as much chance of winning as Farleigh Dickinson had winning over Purdue.

Jesus keeps advancing in this tournament, but his fans and followers keep getting knocked off. They become intimidated and afraid and start changing their picks. The sixty-four turns into thirty-two, and the thirty-two turns into the “Sweet Twelve” Apostles.

But when Jesus entered Jerusalem, he did so knowing he was all-in and going all the way. After celebrating the Passover, the Sweet Twelve exit the locker room for the Garden—Gethsemane—only to end up knocked-out one-by-one.

Judas betrays him.

Peter denies him.

Gives the choice to release Barabbas or Jesus, the crowd picks Barabbas.

The soldiers mock and jeer him.

The tournament comes down to the finals: Jesus versus the Cross. Everything Jesus has said and done, all of his training and preparation up to this point have led him to this moment. The cross stands for all of the forces of sin and darkness raining down fury upon the love of God. Jesus, sweating drops of blood as his foes spit in his face and trash talk him. There is no foul, no retaliation on Jesus’ part.

It is easy to imagine somebody else doing that to Jesus, whether it is the politician we scorn, the authority who neglects the poor and the victim, the atheist who rejects or ignores God, or the judgmental religious hypocrite who refuses to put his money where his mouth is. And in truth, it is all those people, but not because they are somebody else, but because at times each one is me.

As time winds down, in this contest, it seems his winning streak has finally come to an end.

Defeated.

Dead.

Buried.

Game over for God.

Maybe this is how you feel. This God and church stuff is a losing team, an empty show.

But there is a reason we are still here telling this story. The Gospel I announce to you is that death’s victory is premature, then and now. When the crowds leave Golgotha, they have failed to notice there are still three seconds on God’s clock.

Three, two, one.

Betray him,

deny him,

mock him,

ignore him,

discount him,

bench him,

walk away from him,

but this same truth keeps bouncing back, that whenever we pick against Jesus, God always finds a way to bust our brackets. Whenever we pick against Jesus, God always finds a way to bust our brackets.

Because Christ is truly risen, Alleluia, Alleluia! The resurrection means that Jesus Christ has busted the brackets of death and cut down the nets of sin that time and time again we think will hold God down.

And this is what I pass on to you today, this good news, that there is a victor and that man is Jesus, and his win is not only for himself but for you and me. His win is for every person who has been counted out and trampled on and beaten down, abused by sin and injustice, for every person who has tasted the blood, sweat, and tears of love and left it all on the floor of life’s arena.

And this is what the Church is about, the only thing it’s really ever been about. Embracing the victory of the cross and the sacrifice it entails and building one team around Jesus even out of the dust of defeat.

Last night at our Easter Vigil we baptized six new Christians. As a coach receives a Gatorade bath after winning a championship, baptism is the victory bath of the children of God. Though he won for us, we become sharers in divine glory.

I pass this message along to you. The ball is in your court. To win or lose your life, we’ve all been given three seconds. It’s enough, if only you choose to give God a shot.