NATIVITY OF THE LORD

25 DECEMBER 2017

            In the northern hemisphere, Christmas comes at a dark time of the year.  Even though we suffered through the shortest and darkest day of the year last Thursday, it is still cold and dark.  And it remains dark under our “perma-cloud” here.  Worse, we live in a world filled with darkness.  Far too often, nations and groups resort to violence, hatred, and racism to resolve their disputes.  In our country, we live in a time of deep polarizations.  Instead of listening to each other, we shout at each other and label our opponents as evil.  We also bring with us the darkness of our lives:  the darkness of our sins and failures, the darkness of failing health and sickness, the darkness of grief and loss, and the darkness of so much pain outside of our control.

            When we come to celebrate Christmas, we cannot pretend that all of this darkness disappears in the “Christmas spirit.”  Instead, we dare to celebrate this incredible mystery in the midst of darkness.  The infinite God has decided to reveal himself not as a powerful ruler born in a royal palace.  Instead, God has taken flesh as a tiny, naked, helpless baby born in a stable.  Saint Francis of Assisi was so moved by this epiphany of God that he decided to make the mystery more tangible to the people who came to celebrate Christmas with his community.  He built a stable and placed an ox and a donkey in it.  Then one of the friars set up an Altar and began Mass.  Francis sang the Gospel as a deacon with great emotion.  They held the real presence of the Lord in their hands, as Mary had cradled him in her arms, and were nourished with the Eucharist.  Saint Francis created the first nativity set, a practice that continues.  Be sure to visit our new nativity set in the Parish Life Center to begin to understand why Saint Francis called Christmas the “feast of feasts.”  He was not drawing attention away from Easter, when the Lord emerged triumphant from the tomb to change everything.  Rather, he was pointing out that the Paschal Mystery could not have taken place without the Mystery of the Incarnation.  Francis understood that we have to approach this Mystery with great simplicity and humility.

            Those who visit the Church of the Nativity of the Lord in Bethlehem do that in a very real way.  To enter the Church where tradition says that Christ was born, pilgrims must line up in a single file and bend down to go through a very small and narrow entrance. The original massive entrance has been blocked off to prevent soldiers from riding their horses into church!  (Don’t get on your horse and try to ride through those doors!) 

            That is the attitude we need as we approach our newborn Savior.  We need to get off our horses of pride and arrogance in order to approach the Lord’s Table with simplicity and humility.  We need to imitate the examples of children who love to build forts out of all kinds of materials and bend down to enter.  We need to let go of so many passing trappings of Christmas that can easily distract us from the real Mystery hidden in a tiny child lying in the manger.  Only then can we embrace the true meaning of Christmas.  Once we approach the manger with humility and simplicity, we reinforce our faith that this tiny child will eventually dispel all darkness, in our world and in our lives.  The birth of Jesus Christ reveals that God does not want darkness to prevail.  In the person of Jesus Christ, God shines with hope. 

Christmas reminds us that God emptied himself of the privilege of divinity in the person of Jesus Christ and took on our humanity to transform us into divinity.  If we embrace the Christmas miracle, we will understand that God’s love, revealed by a tiny child born in a stable, has the power to transform us throughout the years.  But it takes time.  The Incarnate Lord will continue to reveal himself in the Sacramental life of the Church and in our daily experiences.  But we have to be alert to his transforming love.  Light will prevail.  Christmas promises that.

FOURTH SUNDAY OF ADVENT

24 DECEMBER 2017

          King David has a pretty good idea.  With Jerusalem at peace, he lives comfortably in a house of cedar.  The ark of God, which had preceded his ancestors in the desert, is housed in a tent.  He wants to build the Lord a proper temple.  Nathan the prophet also thinks that it is a pretty good idea.  However, Nathan discovers in a dream that God’s plan is different.  God does not want David to do something for him.  Instead, God is going to do something for David.  God reminds David of what he has already done for him – lifting him from caring for sheep in Bethlehem to leading a nation.  Instead of David building a house for God, God will establish a house for David.  God promises that he will remain with the house of David and make his house forever.  This is one of the Covenants portrayed in mosaic in the main aisle of our church.

            The kingly line of David lasted for over 400 years, until the Babylonians ended the dynasty with exile.  When the people of Israel returned from exile, they were not successful in restoring the Dynasty of David.  Instead, they kept track of all who had been born into the same tribe that David had been born into.  They never lost hope in the covenant made with David.

            In today’s Gospel, we see the Covenant with David fulfilled in a way that no one could ever have expected.  The angel Gabriel approaches an insignificant teenager betrothed to an insignificant carpenter from David’s tribe in the insignificant village of Nazareth.  The Angel asks Mary to become the mother of the Messiah promised to David.  Even though Mary does not understand, she trusts the Angel’s assurance that the Holy Spirit would overshadow her, as the spirit of God had overshadowed creation in the beginning.  She would become the Ark of the Covenant, carrying the promised Messiah who is also the Son of God.

            When Mary says “yes,” she is responding to an invitation to enter into an infinite union with an infinite God. She has three important attitudes that opened her to enter into this union.  First, she is detached.  She is willing to be detached from the gossip of the neighbors and even the possibility of being stoned to death because of her perceived adultery.  She trusts completely in God.  She has become the handmaid of the Lord.  Second, she knows that she cannot do this on her own.  She trusts that all things are possible with God.  That trust enables her to say, “Be it done to me according to your word.”  Third, she counts on God to help her through her upcoming ordeal, even to standing at the foot of the cross when he is crucified.  She trusts the Angel’s promise that the Lord is with her and will not abandon her.

            Those three attitudes can serve us well as we prepare to celebrate Christmas tomorrow.  Christmas invites each one of us to an infinite union with an infinite God in the person of Jesus Christ.  If we can detach ourselves from so many of our concerns and worries, we can trust that our encounter with then newborn Christ can have the power to change us in ways we might not expect.  If we are humble enough to admit that we cannot create the spirit of Christmas on our own, we open ourselves to trusting that God will grace us with a love we can never earn.  If we can count on God to help us in celebrating the birth of his Son, we can grow in confidence that God will be with us well beyond Christmas and throughout the New Year. 

            Saint Paul speaks of the Mystery of the Incarnation in his Letter to the Romans.  He tells them that the best response to this Mystery is to be obedient.  The root meaning of the word “obedience” is “to listen.”  Mary listened carefully, detached herself, counted on God to help her, and trusted that God is with her.  Listen carefully to the Christmas Mystery that we celebrate and imitate Mary’s example.

THIRD SUNDAY OF ADVENT

17 DECEMBER 2017

          The son of Zechariah and Elizabeth was attracting a lot of attention in his day.  We met him last Sunday when we heard the beginning of the Gospel of Saint Mark.  Instead of preaching in the Temple, he is drawing crowds to the desert.  Instead of wearing the priestly vestments of his father, he is clothed in the camel’s hair garment of the Prophet Elijah.  Instead of eating fine food at the table with the other priests in Jerusalem, he easts locusts and honey, the food eaten by his ancestors as they left Egypt for the Promised Land.  He attracts so much attention that the authorities in Jerusalem send priests and Levites to find out who does he think he is!

            He responds by saying who he is not.  At a time of heightened expectations of the coming of the messiah, he insists that he is not the Christ.  He is not Elijah, the prophet who returned to God in a fiery chariot.  He is not the Prophet who would equal Moses.  Instead, he defines himself in the words of Isaiah the Prophet:  “I am the voice of one crying out in the desert, make straight the way of the Lord.”  Responding to the Pharisees, the lay leaders of the people, he explains why he baptizes.  He is inviting people to immerse themselves in a river of repentance to make a straight path for the true Messiah, Jesus Christ.

            The Gospel of Saint John clarifies his identity.  While the priests and Levites were sent by the religious authorities in Jerusalem, John was sent from God.  The Greek word for “sent” comes from the root word for “apostle.”  John knows exactly who he is:  the first Apostle whose role is to point the way to the light.  He is to give testimony to the true Messiah, because he is a witness who is not worthy to untie the sandal strap of the light that has come into the world. 

            John the Baptist invites us to be witnesses to the light of Christ dispelling the darkness of our world.  Each of us knows who we are not.  We may not have the loving kindness of a Mother Teresa.  We may not have the moral courage of a Nelson Mandela.  We may not have the preaching skills of Martin Luther King.  But, like John the Baptist, each of us has a calling from God.  Each of us is called to make people aware of God’s love.  Each of us is called to live a life that points to God’s amazing grace.

            As we prepare to celebrate the Lord’s First Coming in the Flesh, all three Scripture readings call us to be authentic witnesses of the power of God’s love in the world.  Isaiah says that authentic witnesses are mindful of the needs of the brokenhearted, captives, and those imprisoned in any way.  Saint Paul insists that authentic witnesses must have the ability to test what appears to be the will of God.  Once we have done that, then we must embrace it fully to make us blameless for the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.  Paul understands from his own experience when as Saul of Tarsus he was breathing murderous threats against the Christian community.  He did not see himself as evil.  He saw himself as right, only to discern later that he was dead wrong.  John the Baptist shows that authentic witnesses do not point to themselves and boast about their accomplishments.  They point beyond themselves.

            On this Gaudete Sunday, we can sense a real joyful spirit in all of these readings from the Word of God.  In particular, Saint Paul tells us to rejoice always.  He is not talking about a feeling of happiness or of pleasure rooted in our senses.  It is impossible to have a feeling of happiness or pleasure all the time.  In fact, there are times when we have feelings of great sadness, grief, or disappointment.  Instead, he is talking about a state of our souls.  The Incarnation of Jesus Christ which we celebrate at Christmas and his death and resurrection which we celebrate at Easter display the power of God’s love to give meaning to everything in our life.  So, rejoice always!  Pray without ceasing!  In all circumstances, give thanks!

SECOND SUNDAY OF ADVENT

10 DECEMBER 2017

          The words of the Prophet Isaiah are addressed to a people who are suffering greatly.  Those few remaining children of Abraham had witnessed the execution of their leaders, the complete destruction of Jerusalem, and the dismantling of their Temple.  Now they are languishing in exile in Babylon.  Isaiah is honest with them.  They have brought this destruction upon themselves.  But he also tells them that God has not abandoned them.  With tenderness, he tells them that their time of suffering is about to end.  He promises that God will lead them through the wilderness back to their own land.  Just as God had filled in the valleys and leveled the hills for their ancestors in the desert between Egypt and the Promised Land, God would now accompany them in their return to Jerusalem.  In the desert, God is giving them a new beginning.

            Saint Mark remembers those words as he sits down to write his Gospel, which literally means “the proclamation of joyful tidings.”  Mark echoes the words of the Book of Genesis:  In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.  In the person of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, God is beginning something new.  John the Baptist is not proclaiming these joyful tidings in the sacred Temple, where his father serves as a priest.  He proclaims them in the desert, in that barren wilderness where God walks with his people and calls them to pursue new beginnings.  He is not wearing the sacred vestments that were his as a member of the tribe of Levi.  He is wearing the rough garments of Elijah the prophet, who called his people to repent of walking away from God.  He is not eating the rich foods in Jerusalem.  He is eating the locusts and honey consumed by his ancestors in their 40 day journey through the desert to the Promised Land.

            John the Baptist speaks to us in the darkness of our world.  We live at a time where there are so many deep divisions between groups of people.  Not only are there dangerous tensions between nations, but there are steep mountains of arrogance and deep valleys of distrust dividing so many in our country.  If we are to embrace his glad tidings of a new beginning, we must enter the desert.  We must repent.  The Greek word for repentance is metanoia, which implies a complete change of mind and heart.  In other words, we need to take a good look at the ways in which we have dug valleys that separate us from people we don’t like or don’t agree with.  We need to admit that we have built up mountains of pride that focus our attention on ourselves and our own needs, forgetting the needs of those around us.  It is the Holy Spirit who can help us to fill in these valleys and level these mountains – the same Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead an in whom we have been baptized.  Then the glory of the Lord will be revealed!

            This Second Sunday of Advent is surrounded by two feasts honoring Mary, the Mother of God.  On Friday, we celebrated the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception.  We recalled that the Virgin Mary became the new Eve by recognizing that she was truly free when she trusted the Word of the angel and agreed to do God’s will.  On Tuesday, we will celebrate the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, a feast central to the experience of so many of our brothers and sisters in our sister parish of Saint Adalbert.  Our Lady had entered into the culture of Saint Juan Diego, and she remains in the mess of our culture as the Patroness of the Americas, pointing to her Son.

            These main figures of the Advent Season speak to us.  The Prophets Isaiah and John the Baptist call us to look for a new beginning, as Mary had the courage to do.  Take some time to listen to these figures.  Retreat for a few moments from the noise and sounds of the “Holiday Season and spend some time alone in the desert which is known as Advent.  Make a really good Confession sometime before Christmas.  The Lord invites us to travel through repentance to meet him, not only as a child born in a stable, but as the Lord who returns to set us free.

FIRST SUNDAY OF ADVENT

3 DECEMBER 2017

          In this new Liturgical Year, we hear from the Gospel according to Saint Mark.  His audience would have been very interested in the subject of the Second Coming of the Lord.  Even more, they wanted to know when he would come again.  In response, Mark records this parable of the gatekeeper.  The master who has traveled abroad is Jesus himself.  The servants whom he left in charge are his disciples.  No one knows the time when the Lord will come again.  Instead of knowing the time of the Second Coming, the disciples need to be alert and watchful.

            Jesus tells this parable just before the Passover which will begin his passion.  The master who left on the journey gives each of the servants a task to be accomplished, according to each one’s abilities.  The gatekeeper is to be watchful for his return, alert that he may return during the non-working hours:  dinner, midnight, pre-dawn, and early morning.  Ironically, these are the precise hours when the important events of Jesus’ passion would take place.  Just a few days later, he would share a final meal with his disciples and give himself to them in the form of bread and wine.  At midnight, he would ask Peter, James, and John to watch and pray during his agony.  Instead of being alert, they will fall asleep.  When Jesus would be betrayed by one of his closest friends in the garden, most of them would run away in fear.  At cockcrow, Peter would abandon any idea of being alert to Jesus and deny knowing him three times.  In the morning, Jesus would be handed over to Pontius Pilate to be condemned to death.  Instead of being alert to these crucial moments in their master’s passion, they would be hiding.

            We are the servants whom the Lord has put in charge.  He has given each of us talents to be invested in his Kingdom.  We do not know the time of his Second Coming, either at the end of time or at the end of our lives.  But he will come again, and he tells us that we must be alert and watchful, especially at those times when we want to run away from the implications of his passion.  We listen to him and feast on his Body and Blood at this Eucharist, the Memorial of the Last Supper.  We are sent from this Eucharist to be watchful, especially in those dark moments when we share in Christ’s agony and passion.  We must remain alert, even when we deny knowing Christ by our sinful actions.  We remain alert when we are handed over to carry some heavy cross that seems to crush us.

            This is why the Church gives us the Season of Advent.  It is easy to fall into a spiritual stupor and become so self-indulgent that we do not consider the Lord’s presence in our daily lives.  Advent reminds us that the Lord will come again, and that we need to be alert and watchful.  Being alert and watchful does not mean that we lock ourselves up and huddle together in fear, worrying that some crazy person will break in and start shooting at us.  Instead, we need to be attentive to one another during those darkest times of our lives.

            This Advent is the shortest possible Season with only 22 days.  The Fourth Sunday of Advent falls on Christmas Eve.  Ironically, we can miss the opportunities to become more alert and watchful with our frantic efforts to prepare to celebrate the Lord’s first coming at Christmas.  Please take advantage of Advent.  Take one of the books we offer for private prayer.  Come to Lessons and Carols on Tuesday night.  Go to the Sacrament of Reconciliation sometime during this Season to confess those times we have fallen into a spiritual stupor and focused only on ourselves.  The Lord is coming again at some time which we do not know.  We need to be alert and watchful, not living in fear and dread, but giving ourselves in prayer and humble service. Even those who hid experienced another morning – the morning of the Lord’s resurrection.

SOLEMNITY OF CHRIST THE KING

26 NOVEMBER 2017

          During November, as the farmers are harvesting their crops, we have been praying for our loved ones whom the Lord has harvested through death.  But in remembering them, the Lord has also been speaking to us through the Sunday readings.  He has reminded us that sooner or later, that same harvest awaits us.

            Jesus has been using parables to prepare us for that unknown time in the future when he will come for us, not only at the end of our lives, but also at the end of time.  These parables are not intended to frighten us or to fill us with dread.  They express the Lord’s loving concern for us.  He wants us to be like the five wise bridesmaids, making sure that we have enough oil to accomplish the works of righteousness and invited to the eternal wedding feast of the Lamb.  Like the first two servants in last Sunday’s parable, we need to take risks and invest the talents entrusted to us to build up the Kingdom of God here, and participate in it fully after he comes.

Today, we hear the parable of the risen Christ separating sheep from goats at the end of time.  The image of the Good Shepherd seated on his throne on our Triumphal Arch helps us understand.  The Good Shepherd is drawing all of his sheep from Bethlehem on the left and Jerusalem on the right, and not a select few.  However, unlike sheep, we can make choice.  We are sheep when we choose to respond to those in need:  when we feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, welcome the stranger, clothe the naked, care for the sick, and visit those in prison.  We are goats when we fail to respond to those in need.

            When George Lucas first produced Star Wars, he gave an interesting interview about a common theme in so many accounts of good defeating evil.  In those classic tales, the hero encounters someone who appears to be the least.  However, the person who appears to be least is the powerful one who helps the hero to succeed.  In Star Wars, Luke Skywalker encounters Yoda.  That small, quirky character helps Luke to become a true hero. In a sense, this is the point of today’s parable.  Jesus wants all of us to be heroes by recognizing in those least ones who come to us in need the Good Shepherd inviting us to be seated on his right side for eternity.

            If we are to be the heroes of this parable, then we need to become more aware of Christ’s presence in those who come to us in need.  To be honest, both the sheep and the goats were unaware that they were serving Christ.  Like the sheep, we may not recognize Christ in those people who need our assistance.  But, if we respond to them, we respond to Christ.

            If we are to be heroes, then we need to be generous.  The parable calls us to stop worrying about ourselves, our own comfort, and our own needs.  Jesus calls us to be generous in sharing those gifts he has generously given us.  He invites us to trust his example to seek out the lost, to bring back the strays, to bind up the injured, and to heal the sick.  He invites us to trust that we can accomplish these tasks in small ways and in daily efforts.

            If we are to be heroes, we will also know the joy of serving those in need.  Charles Dickens reminds us that Scrooge was a miserable miser who dwelt in the darkness of tending to his own needs.  It was only in responding to a poor, crippled boy that he found the joy of sharing himself.  There is a definite joy in being good and humble servants.  You know that joy when you take a meal to a sick neighbor or prepare a casserole for the Homeless Shelter.  You know that joy when you deliver gifts from the giving tree or welcome a family to safety when they have escaped persecution in another country.  You know that joy when you made sacrifices to build this new church.  The Lord does not want sour superheroes.  He wants joyful heroes who recognize him in the ordinary situations of life.      

THIRTY-THIRD SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME

19 NOVEMBER 2017

          When we hear this parable, we tend to sympathize with the third servant.  He only received one talent, unlike the seven other talents given to the first two servants.  We become even more sympathetic when the master calls him “useless” and throws him into the darkness outside.  But before we begin to feel too sorry for this guy, we need to take a closer look at the parable.  In the ancient world, a talent weighed between 57-74 pounds in pure silver.  That one talent would have afforded him a comfortable existence for the rest of his life.

            A closer look also reveals that the parable is not about money or material possessions.  The parable is about how to maintain a relationship in faith.  Saint Matthew uses the word kyrios for the master.  In the Liturgy, we use that Greek word at the beginning of Mass during Lent to ask the Lord to have mercy on us.  Our Lord Jesus Christ has been raised from the dead and has ascended to the right hand of the Father.  Through the power of the Holy Spirit, he shares his life with us and invites us to be humble servants in sharing that life with others.  He will come again, both at the end of our lives and at the end of the world.  He wants us to share fully in the richness of his risen life, not only in this world, but in the new and eternal Jerusalem.

            The first two servants understand that the master is the Incarnation of the love of the Trinitarian God – three Divine Persons giving themselves totally out of love to one another.  They also understand that he has given himself totally in love for them when he died on the cross.  To use the words from the Gospel of Saint Matthew that we have been hearing all year, they accept the paradox of the cross.  If we want to truly live with Christ, we must die to ourselves and our own selfish interests.  That is what those two servants do when they take the risk of investing the divine life they have been given.  When their Lord returns, he calls each of them “my good and faithful servant” and doubles the life he shares with them.

            The third servant does not understand the intense love of the master.  He sees his master’s example of giving himself to others as too demanding.  He is afraid of the master.  In fear, he refuses to take any risk and buries the life that has been shared with him.  Upon his return, the master refers to him as “you wicked, lazy servant” and casts him into the darkness outside.  The Lord is not being cruel or unfair.  The servant has refused to enter into a relationship of love.  In being afraid to die to himself, he has enclosed himself in the darkness of living only for himself.

            As we approach the end of this liturgical year, Jesus addresses this parable to us.  When we were baptized, we became servants of the humble Lord who washed the feet of his disciples and died for them.  We already share in the richness of that love.  The parable challenges us to be good, faithful servants and to trust that dying to ourselves will increase the love relationship we have with the Lord and with others.  If anything keeps us from dying to ourselves, it is fear.  Fear can keep a couple from honestly confronting the problems in their marriage.  What if we fail and end up living miserable lives?  Fear causes a parent from spending more time with the family.  What might happen to my career?  Fear keeps us from giving our gifts of time, talent, and treasure to the parish.  What if my investment in the parish depletes what I already have?

            Saint Paul reminds us that we do not know on what day the Lord will come for us, either at the end of our lives or at the end of the world.  So, he reprises the message of the parable.  We do not live in darkness.  We know the Mystery of the Lord’s dying and rising.  We can best prepare for his coming by embracing that Mystery and die to ourselves on a daily basis, without fear and with a great amount of love.