THE HOLY FAMILY OF JESUS, MARY, AND JOSEPH

30 DECEMBER 2018

          A friend recently told me of losing his son.  He was standing in line in the basement of Saint Jude Parish in Fort Wayne with his two year old son, Kevin, waiting to say goodbye to the departing pastor who was being transferred to Saint Pius.  His wife, Laura, was at home with their new born son, David, who was only a few days old.  As he was waiting in line talking to friends about the excitement of being a new dad, Kevin separated from him.  In a moment, he was completely out of sight.  A flood of panic engulfed him.  He said that it was like a punch in the gut.  A thousand thoughts went through his head as he frantically searched for him.  One of those thoughts was that his wife would kill him if he came home without their son.  Even in that short time, he felt that he had been a total failure as a parent.

            Joseph and Mary lost their twelve year old son for more than a few moments!  Only parents can imagine what thoughts must have gone through their heads as they searched for their son for three entire days.  In their frantic search, they too must have felt like complete failures.  The Father had entrusted them with the long awaited Messiah.  Now they have lost him.  When they finally find him after three agonizing days, his response is less than consoling.  His mother asks him why he has done this to her and his father.  Like a typical twelve year old, he wants to know why they have been looking for him.  He tells them that he must be in his Father’s house.

            In this only story told about the childhood of Jesus, parents who have lost children can take consolation that this happened to the Holy Family.  They can identify with the precocious child who eagerly embraces a formal education in the faith.  But there is a much deeper level here.  Some thirty years later, Mary would lose her son again for three days, buried in a borrowed tomb.  She would experience again what she and Joseph experienced in Jerusalem.  Confronted with loss, she would have no idea of how things would turn out.  When she would find him in the Mystery of the resurrection, she would understand better the words he had spoken, not about his step father Joseph, but about his Heavenly Father.  In quoting the response of the twelve year old, Saint Luke deliberately uses ambiguous words.  A literal rendering of the Greek text would be that he must be “about the affairs of my Father” or “in the house of my Father.”  In other words, Jesus understands from a very early age that he has a very intimate relationship with the Father, and that he needs to be trusting and obedient to his Father’s will.

            Saint Luke tells us that Jesus went down with Joseph and Mary to Nazareth and was obedient to them.  He learned to trust and obey his Heavenly Father by trusting and obeying Mary and Joseph in their human family.  They would teach the precocious child and answer his questions as he would continue to grow in wisdom and age and favor.  He would learn to listen to them, much as he had listened to the teachers in the Temple in Jerusalem.

            This is the task facing every one of our families today.  None of our families are perfect, and none of our families are without sin and failure.  But, we all have aspects of holiness in our families.  Like the holy family of Nazareth, we can form our children in the ways of faith and teach them how to be obedient.  Obedience does not mean blindly doing what we are told.  It used to irk me as a kid when I would ask why, and my father would respond, “Because I told you!”  The word “obey” literally means to listen.  As we enter into the New Year, we can all take advantage of new opportunities to listen.  We will listen to the Word of God at Mass and also in the adult education programs we will be offering this year.  If we listen and teach our children to listen, we can learn as a parish family how to trust the mystery of the dying and rising of Jesus.  They can learn that dying to themselves will open the way to rising with Christ to others.

NATIVITY OF THE LORD

25 DECEMBER 2018

            For centuries, the descendants of Abraham looked for an anointed king who would fulfill the promises made to King David.  When David wanted to build a temple for the Lord, the prophet Nathan assured him that the Lord would eventually dwell in his house, in his lineage, and not in a physical building.  On Christmas, the Scriptures remind us that promise was fulfilled in the birth of Christ over two thousand years ago.  At that time, those who saw themselves as the movers and shakers of that day were busy doing what rulers like to do.  The Roman Emperor, Caesar Augustus, decided to take a census and count how many subjects he had.  King Herod and his cronies were consolidating their rule and marginalizing their enemies. 

            The promised child was not born in a royal palace or in a sacred temple.  He was born in a stable in a tiny village south of Jerusalem.  His birth was not proclaimed by royal decree.  It was announced by angels to shepherds.  When we see this scene acted out in Christmas pageants, we see the shepherds as quaint and innocent people dressed in colorful bathrobes with towels wrapped around their heads.  However, the truth about shepherds is not that romantic.  They lived on the fringes of society.  Without a permanent residence, they moved with their flocks to find green pastures for grazing and sources of water.  The local people did not trust them.  When I was pastor at Saint Paul of the Cross in Columbia City, the parishioners helped me understand the actual status of shepherds.  Every summer, the city closed down the main street for a weeklong celebration.  Carnival workers swarmed into town, turning the main street into a carnival with rides and all kinds of attractions.  During the year, no one in Columbia City ever locked their doors.  I did not lock the doors of the rectory, because people would open the back door and put wonderful produce on top of the washing machine.  But everyone locked their doors during Old Settlers Days, because the carnies were in town, and no one trusted them.

            It was to this group of shifty characters that the birth of the Messiah was announced.  They responded and found the infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger, the feed trough for cattle.  This encounter profoundly affected them, causing them to leave glorifying and praising God.  What they experienced changed their lives.  We have no idea how long this change lasted.  I may sound cynical.  But I wonder if this transformation quickly wore off, and they returned to their devious ways as quickly as our Christmas trees are thrown on the curb. 

            We gather for Christmas not just to remember what happened a long time ago.  We gather today, because the Mystery of God dwelling in our midst is a present reality.  His birth was just announced to us in the Word of God proclaimed here.  We encounter the Lord in the Eucharist, remembering that Bethlehem means “House of Bread.”  We are like the shepherds in the sense that we can be shifty and devious at times.  We are not always faithful.  We are not worthy of so great a gift.  And yet, we encounter him just as the shepherds did and are drawn into the Mystery of God taking on human flesh.

            We have no idea whether or not the shepherds’ lives remained transformed.  Instead, it is now up to us.  We leave this church glorifying and praising God like they did.  We go back into a world filled with darkness – wars, terrorist attacks, bitter divisions in our country and Church and families, natural disasters, human tragedies, and the reality of death.  God has taken on our human nature, so that we can be transformed into God’s divinity.  Once we believe this message, then we can more readily see the signs of God’s love and goodness in a broken world.  Then we can become instruments of that transforming love ourselves and live the Christmas mystery long after our Christmas trees have hit the curb!

FOURTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME

16 DECEMBER 2018

          At a very basic level, today’s Gospel presents us with a heart-warming scene.  An elderly woman and a young woman have conceived children in unusual circumstances.  The young woman goes in haste on a difficult journey from the backwater village of Nazareth to the hill country north of Jerusalem. When the young mother arrives at the home of the older mother, they embrace and give one another support.  Over the centuries, artists have portrayed this intimate meeting in beautiful ways.  At Saint Pius, we offer the “Elizabeth Ministry” to offer support and help to mothers who are experiencing any difficulty with childbirth.

            At a deeper level, the four characters have much to teach us about faith.  Elizabeth reminds us of the promise made the King David centuries before.  God had promised David that a savior would eventually come from his lineage.  Discouraged by years of not being able to bear a child, Elizabeth realizes that only God can bring new life.  Mary represents God’s amazing grace in doing something completely new.  Within the womb of Mary dwells the child conceived through the power of the Holy Spirit and who fulfills the promise made to David in ways no one could ever have expected.  As King David had danced with joy in the presence of the Ark of the Covenant being carried into Jerusalem, so John the Baptist dances in his mother’s womb in the presence of Mary, the new Ark of the Covenant carrying the eternal Word of God in her womb.

            The Letter to the Hebrews reminds us that Christmas is much more than having warm and sentimental feelings about a newborn baby.  The Letter gives us an insight into the divine conversation between the Father and the Son about the nature of sacrifice.  Throughout the Old Testament, human beings initiated ritual sacrifices that attempted to bridge the gap between the holiness of God and the sinfulness of human beings.  People would bring something very valuable to the Temple – a newly born lamb, or a calf, or the first grains at harvest.  They would present them to the priest, who would destroy the gift and burn it.  The believer would then pray that this external offering would represent an internal desire to be in union with God.  The Father points out that he does not want all those sacrifices, initiated by humans.  The Father is not a bloodthirsty tyrant who seeks repayment for sin.  Rather, the Father initiates reconciliation by giving what is most valuable to him:  his only begotten Son.  The Son responds that the Father has prepared a body for him, so that he can do the Father’s will to become the scapegoat that takes upon himself the sins of the world. 

            We celebrate the Mystery of the Incarnation at Christmas, because the Incarnation is the first step toward the other Mystery of the death and resurrection of the Lord later in his life.  The adult John the Baptist will dance again and point to him as the Lamb of God.   Jesus, one with the Father, identifies with the vulnerable and, quite literally, takes on the role of the scapegoat to turn the social shaming system of scapegoating upside down.  As the Lamb of God, he will be sacrificed to accomplish what all previous sacrifices could not accomplish:  union with God.  Both Elizabeth and Mary invite us to trust in God’s plan. They are true disciples.  Through the power of the Holy Spirit, Elizabeth recognizes the Lord and tells Mary how blessed she is to carry that child.  Mary, in turn, models for us what we do at every Mass.  She has listened carefully to the Word of God.  She gives praise and thanks for what God has done for her.  She responds in faith to the Word of God and goes in haste to be of humble service.  Imitating the examples of these two incredible women and asking their intercession, we prepare ourselves to renew our faith that God took on human flesh in the person of Jesus Christ and dwells among us.

THIRD SUNDAY OF ADVENT

16 DECEMBER 2018

          Zephaniah was not a prophet who looked at the world with rose colored glasses.  In his short book, Zephaniah clearly saw the pain and suffering caused when his people turned away from their Covenant with God.  He wrote vividly of the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple by the Babylonians as the consequence of the sins of his people.  Yet, today Zephaniah tells Mount Zion (on which is built the Temple) and Jerusalem to be glad and exult.  Despite the pain and suffering endured by his people, destruction and desolation are not the last words.  God has forgiven their sins.  God is in their midst, and God will bring them victory.

            There is no doubt that Saint Paul was familiar with the writings of the Prophet Zephaniah.  He too had known the consequences of his sins.  He had been guilty of murdering the earliest followers of Jesus of Nazareth.  As he writes to the Philippians from the darkness of his prison cell, he too knows desolation.  He has come to believe that the prophecy of Zephaniah had been fulfilled in the person of Jesus Christ.  The body of Jesus had been destroyed on the cross and sown into the grave.  But Paul has come to believe that this crucified Messiah had been raised from the dead and sits at the right hand of the Father.  For that reason, he tells the Philippians to rejoice, because he is convinced that the risen Lord is near.

            That is why we wear rose vestments and light the rose candle today.  Our waiting to celebrate the first coming of the Lord is almost over.  Christmas is just over a week away.  Our waiting for the second coming of the Lord is not over.  We continue to wait for that coming at the end of time and at the end of our lives.  No matter what difficulties we may be facing, the Lord is near and is in our midst, even in the darkest moments of our lives.

            Calling to mind the second coming of the Lord during this Advent Season might cause us to be fearful, because we know neither the day nor the hour of the Lord’s coming to us.  For that reason, the words of Saint John the Baptist are so important.  He is the voice crying out in the wilderness to tell his contemporaries that the Messiah is coming.  His urgent message to them is to repent, to change their lives, so that they can receive him.

            In responding to his call to repentance, the crowds ask questions.  They ask what they should do.  He responds to most of them by telling them to share more generously with those who have nothing.  He responds to the tax collectors by telling them to stop cheating people and collect only what is prescribed.  He responds to the soldiers by telling them to stop bullying people and be satisfied with their salaries.   

            To us, waiting for the second coming of the Lord, he gives the same message.  He also gives us a way to repentance.  The risen Lord is truly present in the Sacrament of Reconciliation and is waiting for us to turn more completely to him now.  Our Advent Penance Service is scheduled for Tuesday evening at 7:00, with seventeen priests available for individual confession of sins and absolution.  I recommend this communal option, because there is strength in numbers.  Besides, you will never see some of these priests again on the side of the second coming.  Later in the week, we will offer many other times for individuals to receive the Sacrament.  In either case, we offer a valuable tool:  a written examination of conscience.  It is sometimes tempting to approach the Sacrament with the attitude that there is no sin in my life.  The examination proposes objective questions to consider in our lives of faith.  Reviewing this examination provides specific ways in which we need to cooperate with the Lord’s grace and make necessary changes to meet the Lord when he comes.  Through the Sacrament, the Lord gives us his mercy, which is a cause for rejoicing always!

SECOND SUNDAY OF ADVENT

9 DECEMBER 2018

          Saint Luke has a keen sense of history.  He writes his Gospel to distinguish the period of Jesus Christ from the period of Israel, God’s chosen people.  He writes the Acts of the Apostles to tell about the history of the Church, begun with the outpouring of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost.  We see his keen sense of history in today’s Gospel, when he cites the timing of this event in the fifteenth year of the rule of Tiberius Caesar.  The seven leaders are the superstars of his day.  The Roman emperor rules with an iron fist, and all citizens understand the consequences if they try to escape his fist.  Pontius Pilate is in charge of the Roman Empire in Galilee, while Herod is in charge of Galilee.  His brother Philip is the wealthy and corrupt leader of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias is enjoying his fame in Abilene.  Annas and Caiaphas are the powerful members of the priestly class who manage the Temple in Jerusalem.  Beginning with the most prominent and ending with the least, he uses the number 7 to say that the time has been fulfilled.

            But the Word of God does not come to these movers and shakers.  The Word of God comes to a strange son of an insignificant priest who takes his turn serving in the Temple.  The Word of God does not come into magnificent palaces.  The Word of God comes in the desert, that barren wasteland where there are few distractions and where everyone can roam freely without being stopped by guards at private palaces.  Having received the Word of God, John does not tell people to trust in the ability of their leaders to make their lives easier.  Instead, he invites them to step into the waters of the Jordan River and repent.  He invites them level the mountains of pride and arrogance and materialism.  He invites them to fill in the age old depths and gorges where there has been a shortage of justice and obedience to God.  He demands a complete change of heart, because the Messiah is coming.

            That same Word of God comes to us today.  Like the crowds who came to listen to John, we have stepped away from the sights and sounds of the “Holiday Season” to enter the barren desert of Advent.  John reminds us that the Lord is coming again – at the end of time and at the end of our lives.  He warns us to be prepared for that coming, because we do not know when it will happen.  Instead of trusting that the promises of the superstars of our day will save us, and instead of embracing the lifestyles of the rich and famous, he calls us to become more intentional members of the Kingdom of God, which is in our midst.  Wealth and status do not determine our worth.  Our worth is determined by our relationship with Christ.     

            John calls us to examine the priorities in our lives to make a path for the Lord’s coming.  We need to level the mountains in our lives.  Mountains can take the shape of accumulating possessions, or building up our good names, or putting obstacles to those who have offended us.  Valleys also need to be filled in.  Valleys can take the form of not putting aside enough time for personal prayer or failing to do the works of mercy or creating divides for enemies. 

            The best way to level mountains and fill in valleys is to receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation.  A good examination of conscience reveals those mountains that need to be leveled and those valleys that need to be filled in.  To quote the Prophet Baruch, all of us have allowed ourselves to be carried away from Christ by embracing the enemies of sinful bad choices.  The Lord’s mercy carries us back, carried aloft in glory as on royal thrones.   G.K. Chesterton noted that humanity has been slowly drifting away from God.  When that happens, we find nothing but “cures that don’t cure, blessings that don’t bless, and solutions that do not solve.”  John the Baptist points to the One who does cure, the One who does bless, and the One who offers the ultimate solution.  He calls us to level the way for his coming.

FIRST SUNDAY OF ADVENT

2 DECEMBER 2018

          At Thanksgiving, I spent time with my family in downstate Illinois.  My nephew, Adam, was there with his wife and two children.  Declan is three years old, and Zoey is five.  Lately, Zoey has been interested in the family weddings she had attended.  So, she asked, “Uncle Bill, will you do my wedding when I grow up?”  Before I could reply, her father blurted out, “no, Zoey, he will be dead by that time!”       

            After my initial shock at his blunt response, I had to laugh! To be honest, this is what the Season of Advent tries to teach us.  We think of Advent as a time of preparation for Christmas.  And that is true, because we prepare to celebrate Christ’s first coming.  But, Advent also teaches us how to prepare for Christ’s coming, not only at the end of time, but also at the end of our mortal lives.  That is why darkness is so much a part of Advent.  For us, this is the darkest time of the year, with the permanent clouds of lake effect snow making it worse.  We don’t have to look far to encounter the other kind of darkness:  the darkness of natural disasters, the darkness of a country and Church sharply divided, the darkness of pain in our families, and the darkness that comes from our disturbing habit of continuing to sin with our bad choices.

            Advent is in conflict with our culture’s “holiday season,” which is in full swing by now.  The holiday season tries to distract us with lights and sounds and parties.  Today’s Gospel sets the tone for Advent, because Jesus invites us to face the darkness when he returns again at the end of time.   Jesus uses the image of the sun, the moon, and the stars as a metaphor.  Ancient mariners and travelers used the sun, the moon, and the stars as fixed points of navigation.  They depended on these heavenly bodies to find their way.  When the end comes either in our individual lives or at the end of the world, we can no longer use our accustomed fixed points to navigate our way.  They are gone.

            Advent is not intended to make us morbid, fearful, or paranoid.  Advent focuses on the darkness of our world and the darkness of our lives from the perspective of hope.  The prophet Jeremiah expresses hope to a people devastated by the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple.  He assures them that God will be faithful to the promise made to King David and will return his people to their homeland.  Jesus gives hope when he tells us to stand erect and raise our heads.

            We can stand erect and raise our heads, because we are disciples of Jesus Christ.  If we are authentic disciples, then Jesus has become our fixed point.  As he becomes our fixed point for navigating our lives, then the other fixed points of our lives must be adjusted.  Making enough money to raise a family and live a comfortable life is not a bad thing.  Nor is the desire to be well liked or have a good repetition inherently bad.  However, these fixed points must give way to the fixed point of Jesus Christ in our lives to allow us to stand erect and raise our heads.

            No amount of darkness can rob us of our relationship with Jesus Christ as the fixed point in our lives.  Advent challenges us to make adjustments, if other interests or attachments have replaced Jesus Christ as fixed points.  The darkness of Advent reminds us that we have time to change and turn more completely to Christ.  The distractions of the “Holiday Season” make those changes more difficult.  Facing darkness squarely with courage and with hope provides space to make those changes.  Having dwelt in darkness for four weeks, the bright light of Christmas when we celebrate the First Coming of the Lord in the flesh will make more sense and provide incredible joy.  I may be in a wheel chair when Zoey gets marrieds.  My nephew may be right.  Either way, I’m here now, trying, like you, to make Jesus Christ the fixed point of my life, waiting in joyful hope for the coming of our God.