A Pilgrimage to Bethlehem

 

Manger Square

First Sunday of Advent
    One of the great blessings in my life is that I have been to the Holy Land three times: once as a seminarian, and twice as a priest.  And while the climax of the trip is the visit to the Basilica of the Holy Sepulchre, where Jesus died, was buried, and rose from the dead, also one of the major stops is the Church of the Nativity of the Lord.  Like a lot of other holy sites, a church was built in Bethlehem at the site of the Lord’s birth during the reign of Emperor Constantine, after his mother, St. Helena, had traveled to the holy sites.  Like other churches built during that time, it was destroyed.  But, a new church was built, around 529.  Unlike other churches, that same church structure from 529, though built up with additions, still remains.  As we were told, one reason why this church survived where others didn’t was because when the Persians attacked in 614, they spared this church alone, because above the church entrance were three Persian-dressed men.  It’s important to recall that, at the Epiphany, we celebrate Magi, wise men from the east.  And what is east of Judea?  Persia.  
    The Church of the Nativity has always been busy each time I went.  You enter through a door that makes you bend over to enter, called the “Door of Humility,” since you have to lower yourself to enter.  Then, as the antechamber opens up to the main nave of the basilica, you see how long the line is, and how long it will take you to wait in line to see the place where Jesus was born.  As a seminarian, I think I waited two hours or so.  This last time I went, I think I only had to wait 45 minutes.  

Door of Humility

    The line leads to a descending stair case, again, where one has to bow down to go through the archway above the opening, towards the Grotto of the Nativity, where Jesus was born.  At the location, in a small chapel, there is a silver star surrounded with a Latin inscription: Hic De Maria Virgine Maria Jesus Christus Natus Est, which means, Here, of the Virgin Mary, Jesus Christ was Born.  Across from there is the Grotto of the Manger, where Mary laid Jesus down to sleep after giving birth.  
    Why do I mention this church and my experiences?  Not only to highlight that it’s my intent to lead another pilgrimage to the Holy Land in 2022, but because I remember that wait.  At first you start praying, maybe a rosary, especially the third joyful mystery of the Nativity of the Lord.  And you’re trying to stay quiet (because otherwise the Orthodox monks will shush you), but eventually you want to talk a little bit.  There’s lots to see as you wait, as some of the columns still have saints painted on them.  There are mosaics from earlier times beneath the current floor, which you can see through plexiglass-covered openings in the floor.  Everyone wants to get in as soon as possible, so the idea of the line is basically morphed into a clump of people as you get closer (which does get precarious on uneven and semi-circularly shaped descending stairs).  There are icons everywhere, as most of the Church is controlled by the Orthodox Patriarchate of Jerusalem.  And the smells oscillate between the beautiful aroma of incense which is used in the Orthodox prayers, and the less than beautiful scent of BO of pilgrims who have been in the heat, or from other cultures who may have other approaches to deodorant.  But, through it all, you’re waiting to get to the cave, the niche where Jesus was born (we Latins tend to think of the creche, due to St. Francis of Assisi).  

Place where Jesus was born

    

So this Advent, we’re on our way to the cave.  We’re waiting, not only for our celebration of Christmas, but for Jesus to return, not as a babe but as a victorious King.  Jesus tells us to watch, because we don’t know when it will happen.  As we go on our way to Bethlehem, our celebration of Christmas, the first step in is always humility.  We cannot make our way to the cave, to Jesus’ birth, unless we humble ourselves before God.  If we try to get there with our pride, we won’t be able to enter in to encounter God.
    There will be times, on our way to the cave, when we know we want to pray, and there will be times when we are tempted to stop watching and waiting, and put our minds on something else.  As we go our minds will sometimes be lifted with the smoke of the incense into the heavens.  And sometimes we’ll be brought quickly back to earth by smells that are all to earthly, and not divine.  
    On our way to the cave, it’s important to recognize, as we heard the Prophet Isaiah say in our first reason, that part of the reason we don’t watch so well is because of our sins.  We miss seeing God because our sins have grabbed our attention.  So let’s confess our sins to the Lord, and ask for His mercy, confident in His love for us.  And having received the mercy of God, may we, with St. Paul, give thanks to God, who has given us His grace to become more and more like Him, who became like us in all things but sin.  
    Today we start our pilgrimage to Bethlehem.  Our path is humility, prayer, contrition, and patience.  It may take us a while, sometimes it may seem like a very long time, but we’ll get there.  And if we are ready, watchful in prayer, then as we celebrate God-with-us at Christmas, and as we watch and wait for Jesus to return, we will find such joy at seeing the star, Jesus, the Morning Star, who will return to inaugurate the day that never ends.  Venite, adoremus–Come, let us adore!

Nave of the Church of the Nativity

Jesus' Crown

 Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe

     Some time back I got into watching “The Crown,” a Netflix series which dramatizes the reign of Queen Elizabeth II, starting with right before she ascended the throne.  Season 4 just came out, and it only took me a couple of days to watch the 10 episodes.  This season especially covers the story of Prince Charles and Princess Diana–how they met, their courtship, and the beginning of their rocky marriage.  Season 4 ends before they get divorced, so there’ll be more to come next year in Season 5.
    To be fair, this is a drama series, not a documentary, so, as a fellow priest pointed out after watching the latest season, there are things which certainly were exaggerated or added for cinematic purposes.  But, whether exaggerated or not, what came through in Season 4 was how selfish both Prince Charles and Princess Diana were.  I don’t want to give away too much, but in the episodes, throughout their rocky marriage, it was clear that each wanted to be the most important in the relationship and wanted the other to have a supporting role, which is not the best approach for marriage.
    When we think of queens, kings, princes, and princesses, we tend to think of power.  Indeed, we tend to view everything as an exercise of power these days.  Modern political and social thought has cast everything in the light of who has power, who should have power, and how more power can be gained by this or that group or cause.  So perhaps this idea of power struggle has bled its way into our minds as we approach this Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, our last Sunday in Ordinary Time, which we celebrate today.  
    But what does Jesus show us time and time again about His reign?  Not that He doesn’t have power.  In fact, Jesus says at the end of the Gospel according to Matthew, right before Jesus ascends into heaven, “‘All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me.’”  It’s not as if Jesus has any equals when it comes to His power, any more than my legos as a child were in a power struggle with me.  But Jesus doesn’t use this power as a display of might, but as a commitment of service.  Jesus’ kingship is about doing the will of His Father, and helping us to reign with Jesus.  Everything Jesus did on earth and does in heaven is done with the goal of helping us to get to heaven and be in communion with the Most Blessed Trinity.  This approach a far cry from the self-centered, despotic uses of power that we are most accustomed to these days.
    Yes, Jesus’ power gives Him the right to judge the world at its end, to separate the sheep and the goats.  But Jesus uses this parable to teach us how we are to use the power Jesus shares with us, as we are baptized into him and become prophet, priest, and yes, king.  Jesus shows us that our use of power has to be the same as His, has to be one of service, especially to those who have nothing.  
    And that’s what we see from the saintly royals in the history of the church.  We just celebrated two royal saints last week: St. Margaret of Scotland, and St. Elizabeth of Hungary.  St. Elizabeth was a Hungarian princess, who was married at the age of 14, widowed at age 20, and died at age 24.  After her husband died, she made sure her children were taken care of, and quickly used her power and especially her money to build a hospital where she served the sick.  She gave up her royal trappings in order to serve.  St. Margaret of Scotland was an English princess who became Queen of Scotland.  She helped her husband grow in faith, served orphans and the poor every day before she ate, and washed the feet of the poor, in addition to her own daily habits of prayer.  She saw her position and power as an opportunity to show others the love of Christ, rather than lording it over them.  
    So for us, who have the baptismal dignity of kings because we are part of the Mystical Body of Christ, who is Himself King of kings and Lord of lords, how do we exercise that power that Jesus has given us?  How do we exercise control over ourselves, most importantly, and, when part of our life, over others?  Is it for self-aggrandizement?  Is it to make sure others know who’s the boss?  Or is it to assist others to be the best that they can be, to serve them so that they can more easily continue on the pilgrim route to heaven?  
    So often we think that, if we have power, others need to focus on us and tend to our needs.  But the truth, as is so often the case in the Gospel, is that, for followers of Jesus, that’s the exact opposite of the way it should be.  Just as it sounds backwards to say that the poor in spirit, the meek, the peacemakers, those who hunger and thirst for justice, and those who mourn are truly blessed, so for those who have power, it is meant to be exercised in a way that focuses not on the self, but on the other.  If we use our power to serve, we probably won’t get a crown of gold with diamonds, rubies, and emeralds, but we will get an eternal crown that does not rust or tarnish, with jewels that are the evidence of whom we chose to serve.  And that sounds like “the crown” that we would want.

Confidence of a Quarterback

 Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
    When reading this Scripture for this weekend’s Mass, my mind went back to a high school football game some years ago, back when I was a priest in East Lansing.  I stood on the sidelines with the Lansing Catholic varsity team.  As I recall, we were winning, but it was a somewhat close game.  Cooper Rush, our quarterback, went back to pass to our wide receiver, Matt Macksood.  The pass was thrown to the back corner of the end zone.  Matt caught the ball, but there was some question as to whether or not the pass was completed inbounds.  The two officials who were closest were looking back and forth at each other, waiting for the other to make the call.  I had been watching the play intently, including Matt’s feet, making sure that at least one foot made contact with the end zone before he stepped out, and knew that it was good.  So I threw up my arms in the signal for a touchdown.  The two officials looked at me (I’m sure they noticed I was a priest) saw my arms held up, and then both signaled that it was a good catch and a touchdown.  After all, priests don’t lie, so I could be trusted to make the right call, right?!?
    Cooper threw the ball where only Matt could catch it.  It was going to be close, but Cooper had confidence that Matt would do everything he could to secure the pass in bounds and keep Lansing Catholic on the road to victory.  That’s the sort of confidence that a quarterback and a wide receiver have to have in each other, even if that confidence is not always rewarded with completions.
    This morning we heard the all-too-familiar Gospel passage of the talents.  This is often where the priest or deacon will preach on using our gifts and talents that God has given us well, not burying them.  Or maybe he will talk about stewardship and its importance in our personal and faith lives.  And those are both good topics for homilies.  But this morning I want to focus on the attitude of the servants who were entrusted with the talents to their master.
    The first two servants had confidence in their relationship with their master.  How do I know this?  They were willing to take a risk in order to make the master happy.  Any risk means that things could go horribly wrong.  When you try to invest money, there’s always a risk that you won’t make money, but lose money (just ask my portfolio, especially between March and June).  But they had confidence in their relationship with the master and knew that he wanted a return on his investment in them, which was worth the risk of losing it all.
    The third servant, though, also knew that the master wanted a return, but was afraid of losing money for the master, so he buried his talent.  His relationship with the master was one of fear.  And that fear even blinded him to the possibility of putting the money in the bank to get some interest.  He was not confident in his relationship with his master.
    What is our approach to God?  Are we confident in our relationship with Him?  Or do we live in fear?  We can talk about the fear of the Lord (in fact we heard in our psalm response, “Blessed are those who fear the Lord”), which is a gift of the Holy Spirit, but that fear is not servile fear, but respect for that fact that God is God and we are not His equals.  But at the same time, we are beloved sons and daughters in the Son of God.  We are not slaves, but friends of God.  And that friendship with God should give us a certain confidence.  We shouldn’t have arrogance (that’s when we lack the proper fear of the Lord), but confidence in God’s love for us, which allows us to take risk so that we can please the Lord and spread His love and truth.  It’s as J.R.R. Tolkien wrote in The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring: “It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door.  You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.”  Confidence allows us to go places we might never imagine.
    That sort of courage to spread the Gospel only comes when we have confidence in our relationship with God.  It does mean that we are willing to take a chance in order to deepen our relationship with God and share it with others.  Sometimes it takes us places where we don’t expect.  It took me to Adrian, a small town on the way to nowhere, but where I fell deeply in love with the people and the community there.  It took me here to Flint.  Before I came here, I’ll be honest that Flint was probably not on my list of places to live.  But I love being here, I love you, my parishioners, and I love serving to try to make Flint better.  I had confidence that God wouldn’t take me anywhere where He couldn’t do some good, and I try to continue to respond to His will as best as I know it and as best as I can.  
    How is your relationship with God?  Do you fear God as a slave?  Or do you have confidence in what God can do with you, and will be pleased with the risks you take to serve Him in love?  Trust in Him; have confidence in His love for you; and you’ll do better than scoring a touchdown.

No Participation Trophies for Heaven

Solemnity of All Saints
    There are those who, when looking at a difficult task, think, ‘That’s so easy, anyone can do it!’  And there are those who, when looking at a difficult task, think, ‘There’s no way I’m going to be able to do this, and I don’t see how anyone could!’  I probably tend towards the latter.  I remember when I was training to run the CRIM in 2019: I had previously thought that there was no way that I was going to be able to run 10 miles; and when I was training, running circles around this parking lot, I still wasn’t sure if I could do it.  But, sure enough, on a relatively cool August day in 2019, urged on by Tommy Rinoldo, one of our seventh grade students here at the school who decided to run, I put one foot in front of the other with my iTunes exercise mix playing in my ears, and I completed the race, even finishing faster than I thought I could.
    Holiness, sanctity, being a saint, or, as the Powers students learned this year, hagiasmos, is often viewed in one of two ways.  We may think: everybody’s in heaven!  You’d have to be Hitler to go to Hell, so very few people have anything to worry about; it’s a shoe-in!  Or we may think: I’m not like St. So-and-so, so I can never get to heaven.  Probably the more popular approach right now is thinking that everybody goes to heaven, as long as they’re not Hitler.
    Honestly, I think that approach, in its own way, cheapens heaven.  If basically everybody goes to heaven unless you commit genocide, it makes heaven not seem like such a big deal.  It’s the participation trophy ideal making its way into our afterlife.  Participation trophies are nice, and I use that word “nice” on purpose, because you are commended for trying, and sometimes trying does take a lot.  But winning is better, and losing is worse.  No matter how you dress it up or try to ignore it, that’s a fact.  If you doubt it, ask the Wolverines how they feel about losing to the Spartans this weekend.  And the Wolverines wouldn’t want they’re own Paul Bunyan trophy simply for playing the game. 
    But, I would also caution us against the view that making it to heaven is like the odds of a high school athlete eventually getting signed to an NFL team.  One study puts that number at 0.08 percent.  That’s .0008 people out of every hundred people, or 8 out of every hundred thousand people.  If my dream were to play in the NFL, that stat would kill my dream. 
    Heaven is difficult to enter.  Jesus says that we get there by a narrow road, not a wide one.  Or, to put it in a cheeky manner, the fact that there’s a stairway to heaven but a highway to hell should tell us something about the number of people expected in either direction.  Heaven is not a default that we slide into by not doing anything horrendously wrong.  But it’s not only for some elite group of people.  Heaven is what God wants for everyone, and God is constantly working to help us get there.  It’s possible for each and every person here, if we cooperate with God’s grace.
    And to prove it, I want to focus on two saintly people.  Both of these people are blessed, that is, one stop short of being a canonized saint.  But it’s a safe bet they’re in heaven, even if they don’t yet have the miracle for the official designation.
  

Bl. Carlo Acutis

The first is Carlo Acutis.  He was beatified this past 10 October, after dying at the age of 15 in 2006 from leukemia.  He liked joking around, and making people laugh.  He loved playing soccer and video games.  His will-power was not so great when it came to Nutella or gelato.  He didn’t give in to those desires all the time; he knew he had to control himself, but he didn’t pretend that he couldn’t like soccer or video games.  His was a simple path of holiness.  He bought a sleeping bag for a poor person he met.  Even though he lived a comfortable life, he did his best to make less work for the people who cleaned his house.  He created a website that tracked Eucharistic miracles around the world.  And in 2006, when diagnosed with leukemia, he was noted to say: “I offer to the Lord the sufferings that I will have to undergo for the Pope and for the Church, so as not to have to be in Purgatory and be able to go directly to heaven.”  He knew responding to God’s grace could be tough, but he was in it to win it.  And now he’s one miracle away from being venerated around the world as a canonized saint. 
    The second was just beatified yesterday, and he is Fr. Michael J. McGivney.  He is the founder of the Knights of Columbus, a fraternal organization that Fr. McGivney founded to assist immigrants and their families with insurance policies in case a member of their family died.  He was born in 1852, the eldest of 13 children, six of whom died in infancy or at a young age.  As a man who had to work at the age of 13 to help support his family, he knew how difficult life could be.  And that life only became more difficult if one of the working family members died, which Fr. McGivney’s own father did in 1873 when Michael was away at seminary.  Seminary was put on hold for a time while Michael earned enough to support his family.  The Knights started small, in his parish in New Haven, Connecticut.  But it is now the world’s largest Catholic fraternal organization.  In 2019, the Knights donated $187 million and 77 million hours of charitable work.  They assist in defending life, especially the infant in the womb, but have also done great work in Iraq to help families who have lost everything through war and poverty.  They are great promoters of the parish, and also raise money each year to assist the mentally handicapped.  Fr. McGivney probably never imagined the scope his work would have, but he did what he could, for whom he could, when he could.

Bl. Michael J. McGivney

    And that’s our ticket to going to heaven.  It is tough; I’m not going to lie.  God’s grace often seems less attractive, especially in youth, and the highway to hell sounds like a ride with more fun.  But if we do all we can, by God’s grace, each day, taking little steps, not worrying about the distance, then we can get there.  It’s not impossible. 
    Today we celebrate all saints, all those who are in heaven.  If we haven’t before, let’s commit ourselves to be saints now, to run the race that is before us, disciplining our bodies, minds, and souls to win the prize of eternal life.  It’s not impossible, but it’s not possible without God’s grace and our effort.  Heaven doesn’t hand out participation trophies, so let’s do whatever we can to be champions in our life of Christ!