The Gospel CAD

 Fourth Sunday of Advent

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  As a way of helping police officers understand the calls to which dispatchers send them, there is a system called Computer-Assisted Dispatch, or CAD.  The CAD gives us important details on the in-car laptops like the nature of the call (what we are going to), the name and contact info of the person who called 911, the time that the call was received, and any notes associated with this call that help the law enforcement officers respond.
    St. Luke obviously didn’t have a CAD when he composed his Gospel account.  But today he sets the scene and gives important details about the time of the Redeemer.  One might think that this is the beginning of St. Luke’s account, but it’s actually chapter 3, as the first two chapters dealt with the conception of St. John, the conception of our Lord, and the Visitation, as well as our Lord’s Nativity and youth.  This chapter begins the preaching of John at the Jordan, right before the Savior began His public ministry.
    But even though this passage is after what we think about when we think about preparing for Christmas, it presents a good point for us on which to meditate: God enters into our time and our lives.  In the pagan world, the gods and goddesses were usually either totally transcendent (they were too important to be involved in the affairs of mere mortals), or they were utterly immanent (they were often just more powerful versions of humans).  But the Scriptures paint God as both transcendent and immanent, as He is other-worldly (no one can see God and live after the Fall, and God sometimes seems far off), but He also directly involves Himself in the lives of His Chosen People (calling Abraham to be a people; directing Abraham’s descendants; freeing the Chosen People from slavery in Egypt; choosing kings; sending prophets to proclaim His message and way of life; allowing the people to experience the effects of their sins; saving them from utter destruction).  
    The ministry of our Lord happens in a very particular time, to quote Charles Dickens, “the best of times” and “the worst of times.”  Luke mentions Tiberius Caesar as the emperor, and Pontius Pilate as governor.  Tiberius was the stepson of Augustus, and the second emperor of Rome.  Tiberius inherited and maintained the pax romana, the Roman peace, which, ironically, had been brought about by no small amount of violence and war, but during which time there was relative peace and prosperity in the Roman Empire.  At the same time, Pontius Pilate, Tiberius’ governor in Judea, probably was not sent there for good behavior or as a reward.  Judea did not want Roman rule, and there were regular riots and skirmishes with the far-advanced Roman army.  
    Herod, while not Roman, only had authority because of Rome.  He was not respected among the Jews, and John the Baptist rightly criticized him for marrying the wife of his half-brother.  Because his rule was dependent on Rome, he likely enjoy the favor neither of Rome (because he wasn’t Roman) nor the Jews (because Rome gave him power).  St. Luke also mentions the religious leaders, Annas and Caiaphas, who will be named again in our Lord’s Passion, and who do not come off looking so good.  So, the time in which our Lord preached could be good or bad, depending on who you were and where you lived.
    God enters into this period, the good, the bad, and the ugly.  And that should give us the hope to which Advent pushes us.  Because our lives are often a mix of the good, the bad, and the ugly.  Sometimes our lives have peace, and sometimes we won that peace by interior fighting (hopefully not exterior fighting).  But that peace can also be very secular, and disconnected from our religious life.  There is a peace of God, which comes from following His will, and then there is a worldly peace, which comes from doing what we want and then doing everything we can to silence our conscience (which will eventually speak out, as the voice of God always does when we veer from His ways).  
    Sometimes we are like Herod and fool ourselves and try to make deals with our fallen human nature, and think that that it will give us power, and then we can simply appease our religious side with devotions, even if our life is not the way it should be, and not in according with God’s will.  We bristle at the prophets who tell us to repent, even as we are intrigued by them as well.  Like Herod, we want to listen to God’s word, but if something delightful demands our obedience, we cut off the head of the prophet because we lack the courage to do what is right.
    Sometimes externally we are very religious, but inside we are dead.  Christ often rebuked the Pharisees for this, for crossing their Ts and dotting their Is, but failing to truly live in a way that God called them.  They have the audacity to think that they can stand in judgement of God’s Messiah, and then make shallow gestures of religious rage when our Lord affirms that He is who He says He is.  Do we fall into that same trap of deciding that our way is the best instead of God’s, or that God has to fit into our standards, rather than fitting ourselves into His?
    But sometimes we are following God’s will, doing our best to live according to His Gospel, to allow His peace to transform our lives, and allowing our outside practices to be a reflection of our interior relationship with God.  Even then, we can always work and making more and more straight the pathways that lead, even in these last days of Advent, to God: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

What do you Fear?

Epiphany of the Lord

            On a most cloudy, 42-degree day, on Saturday, 4 March 1933, Franklin Delano Roosevelt was sworn in for his first term as president of the United States of America.  After taking the oath of office, President Roosevelt gave his first inaugural address, including one of the most famous phrases he ever uttered: “let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” 

            Fear is a very powerful motivator and catalyst.  Think of the small child, lying in bed in the dark, not able to sleep, heart pounding almost out of his chest at the thought that the creaking of the house is actually a monster waiting to get him.  Think of the adolescent, willing to try any illicit activity because he is afraid of not being popular if he doesn’t do what the crowd wants.  Think of an adult, tossing and turning in bed, afraid that he will lose his job and afraid of what that will mean for his family.  Fear can really make us act.

            Fear is what overtook King Herod.  He was afraid that his kingdom was threatened by this newborn King of the Jews, as made known to him by the magi from the East.  His rule was already quite tenuous, as it was under the benevolence of the Romans, and amidst a people who did not accept him as their king.  He was afraid of losing all that he had built for himself.  And so he tries to use the Magi as his spies, to find the place of the newborn king so that Herod can kill the child and eliminate His reign.  And we all know the story: after the magi return by a different route, and Herod hears nothing, he orders the death of all male children ages 2 and younger, in the slaughter of the Holy Innocents, those first ones who died in place of Christ.

            And yet, as Jesus reveals Himself today in the Solemnity of the Epiphany; as He makes Himself known not just to the Chosen People but also to the Gentiles, to those outside of the Chosen People, represented by the magi, His message is not one of fear.  The magi come, and they see the Mighty God in the body of a little child.  This same child, after many years, proclaims to the apostles, the disciples, and to us today: “Do not be afraid!”  Herod had nothing to fear, if only he truly would have done Jesus homage as the King of Kings.

            And yet, even though Jesus tells us to be not afraid, as He reveals Himself to us, we still fear.  And the fear can lead us to do many things that we otherwise wouldn’t.  Think back 13 years ago to the fear that permeated society because the computers couldn’t handle the number 2000 for the year.  Or more recently, the perceived danger due to the end of the Mayan calendar on 21 December.  Or the recently averted so-called fiscal cliff.  Despite Jesus telling us year after year, “Be Not Afraid,” we still seem to act in fear, and it causes us to act in ways of which we would otherwise be ashamed.

            Of what are we afraid?  What personal kingdoms do we fear losing that we think Jesus is going to make us give up?  What things are we so afraid to lose if we lay them down at the feet of Jesus, the King of Kings?  Power?  Control?  Wealth?  Security?  Lifestyle?  A grudge?  How hard it can be to trust Jesus and not be afraid to put everything at His feet!

            I know it’s certainly hard for me.  I’m a type A personality (no shock for most of you, I’m sure!), and I love to have things under control.  I love to plan out events and how they’re going to go.  I like to have contingency plans in case something goes wrong.  It’s not wrong to want to keep things ordered, but they have to be ordered according to the will of God, not my will.  And it is hard to let Jesus have control, because, it means that I might have to change.  And nobody likes change.

            But the happiest people in life are those who laid their kingdom, whatever it was they were attached to, at the feet of Jesus and did not let their fear keep them from letting Jesus direct their lives.  Look at St. Ignatius of Loyola: he had everything figured out as a mercenary.  Then his leg was severely damaged in battle, and while recuperating he was eventually to not let his fear control him (though this took a great deal of battling with himself), and he became a knight for God.  Or American’s own St. Frances Xavier Cabrini, who gave up a life of great wealth in order to serve the Church in American, especially the African Americans and Native Americans who did not receive the same level of education because they were on the fringes of society.  It would have been so much easier for St. Ignatius to continue his soldiering; it would have been so much easier for St. Frances to live in the lap of luxury in Italy.  But they were able to conquer their fear with the help of God, and even though it meant that they had to abandon familiar people, places, and lives, they found life so much better in serving Jesus. 

            When King Herod feared a rival power, it led him away from God.  When we act out of fear, especially fear of having to make changes in our life because we are more devoted to Jesus, we move away from God.  When, instead, we choose to trust God in the face of fear and allow Him to truly be King of our hearts, we find that we lose nothing of who we are meant to be, and gain everything, because we have Jesus.  Do not be afraid to trust Jesus and give Him control of your life!  Will you have to change?  Jesus calls all of us to conversion.  But that relationship with Jesus, no matter what we have to abandon in order to follow Him, is the pearl of great price, which is worth more than anything the world could ever offer us.  “Do not be afraid!”