People of Constant Sorrow and Joy

Third Sunday after Easter
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  I first heard the song, “Man of Constant Sorrow” while watching the 2000 Cohen brothers movie, “O Brother Where Art Thou?”  And while it didn’t strike me as religious, the lyrics mirror what the Lord says in today’s Gospel: that we will have sorrow here, but joy after.  
    The song talks about the sorrow of leaving Kentucky (a sorrow I can relate to, though I was neither born nor raised there), the sorrow of rambling through the world without any friends, of leaving a true love, and that true love loving another after the singer is dead and buried.  “But,” as the song continues, “there is one promise that is given / I’ll meet you on God’s golden shore.”  
    While, in my own experience, leaving Kentucky is truly sorrowful, the sorrow our Lord talks about in the Gospel consists in the reality that the world does not conform to God’s plan.  Our Lord shares these words in the context of the Last Supper, as He prepares to be judged in a sham trial and be put to death by a strange alliance of Pharisees and Pontius Pilate and Roman soldiers.  We can think of no greater sorrow, no greater demonstration that the world is not as it should be, than putting God’s own Son to death in such a gruesome way.
    But the messed-up state of the world did not end there.  It continues because of sin: our own personal sins, and the sins of cultures, societies, and governments.  Even we, who have received the saving washing of Holy Baptism, still suffer under concupiscence, the inordinate desires of our lives not in accord with the will of God, and fall short of the august call that God has given us to be His adopted children in Christ.  Our sins, and the sins that we experience, should cause us sorrow.  Wars, even if necessary, should cause us sorrow at the destruction of life and property.  Illness and disease, things that are not necessarily due to anyone’s choices, should cause us sorrow because God has made us for health and integrity.  
    But, even as we pass through this vale of tears, in hac lacrimarum valle, as we say in the Salve Regina, we should also have joy.  Our joy comes not from a human solution to wars, illness, and personal evil, but from Christ who has conquered sin and all its effects, death, and even natural evils.  Our joy comes from the knowledge that we threw everything evil at Christ that we could think of, all our hate, all our dysfunction, all our sin and death, and while it looked for a while like He had been conquered, He rose victorious on the third day and proved that nothing has more power than God, and that God can turn into life and light even the worst death and darkness that we give Him.

    Our joy should come from the understanding that God did not simply raise our Lord for His own benefit, but also for ours, and that God has given us a way to be joined to the Risen Christ through Holy Baptism, a once-for-all event in our life that we have to choose to ratify each day if we wish to share in its full benefits.  Our joy comes from knowing that, if we cling to Christ, turn away from our sins, and do all that we can to reject Satan and sin, then we, too, will find victory over death and darkness.  And that can keep us going.
    It is the joy that mothers keep in mind as they suffer through pregnancy.  All the morning sickness, all the stretch marks, all the back pain, all the swollen feet and ankles, all the pain of delivery (which, all joking aside, I do believe exceeds even a man-cold), is worth it because of a new child and the joy that comes from holding that child in her arms, a result of the love shared between her and her husband.  
    But we have to keep that in mind, otherwise it just seems like trials.  And when we only consider our trials, they can wear us down, depress us, lead us into despair.  When we forget about heaven and the perfect happiness that comes from union with Christ, the sufferings we endure and the sufferings we choose to endure in order to follow Christ don’t seem to make any sense.  If heaven doesn’t exist, then why would I curtail the desires of my body?  If heaven doesn’t exist, then when would I give up meat on Fridays?  If heaven doesn’t exist, then why wouldn’t I do whatever I needed to be the most powerful, the most famous, the most rich?  If Christ is not raised from the dead, as St. Paul says, then we are the most pitiable of people because all the ways we die to ourselves seem foolish.  But if there is life after death, a life that can be filled with happiness if we live like Christ (or a life that can be filled with suffering if we only seek out pleasure on earth), then no matter what pain or sorrow we go through on our way, the destination is worth it.  To use an analogy, driving through Ohio is worth it only if Kentucky is on the other side of Cincinnati.  
    We are, in some sense, men and women of constant sorrow, because Christ has not yet returned to usher in the fullness of His Kingdom.  We leave Kentucky, we ramble through life, we lose friends and loved ones, we go each day towards the grave.  “But there is one promise that is given”: that through living the life of Christ, the life of the Easter, the life of resurrection, we can meet Him and all the saints on God’s golden shore, where He reigns–the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit–for ever and ever.  Amen.  

Joy and Sorrow

Nativity of the Lord: At the Vigil Mass
    This is certainly a unique Christmas Mass.  On the one hand tonight is a time of great rejoicing as we celebrate the birth of our God and Redeemer in the flesh.  On the other hand, this will be the last Christmas this church building will experience as a Catholic church.  For decades, families have gathered on the evening of 24 December to begin their celebration of Christmas by worshiping God.  Bittersweet does not begin to describe what so many of you, and I, are feeling tonight.  I’m not sure there is a word that can quite communicate all the emotions of this final St. Pius X Christmas Mass.

    But while we may vividly understand the prophet Isaiah talking about Israel seeming forsaken, or the land desolate, notice that those terms do not define Israel.  Instead, Isaiah prophecies that Israel shall be called “‘My Delight’” and the land “‘Espoused.’  For the Lord delights in you and makes your land his spouse.”  And, as the Psalmist says, forever God will maintain his kindness toward David and his descendants, and his covenant stands firm.  God has not abandoned us, nor can His covenant with us ever fade away.
    Indeed, even the Nativity itself had a tinge of struggle and sorrow.  What mother would want to give birth to her child, especially a child she knew to be the Son of God, in a cave?  Mary and Joseph were forced to go to Bethlehem to register for the Roman census.  A census was against what God had commanded, and it was being done by a foreign, occupying army.  Forty days after Christmas, when Mary and Joseph presented the Christ child in the temple, Simeon would tell Mary that her heart would be pierced.  And by the time Jesus was two, King Herod would try to kill Him, and kill many other baby boys, as a way to try to get rid of this newborn king. 
    And we also know that God’s ultimate plan, a plan that Jesus fully accepted in His human will, was to die on the cross so that sin and death would be defeated.  So while the Incarnation brought such great joy, it also made possible the worst offense to God that we could have ever committed: killing Him. 
    Still, even with being born in a cave; even with the sorrow that Mary would experience; even with the slaughter of the Holy Innocents; even with the rejection of His own people; even with the crucifixion; God did not abandon us, and brought joy to take the place of all that sorrow because He rose from the dead and defeated sin and death so that we could go to heaven and be perfectly happy with Him for eternity.  No matter how bad things got, God always brought joy and new life. 
    And He does that today.  God gives us the joy as celebrating, one last time, as a parish family, along with the yearly visitors we get for this solemn evening.  He is today, as much as He was some two thousand years ago, Emmanuel, God with us, who will not abandon us.  God will help us to continue to practice our faith in the coming months, just as He helped us practice our faith in this parish for almost seventy years.  God will bring joy and new life out of sorrow and death every time, as long as we remain close to Him and stay faithful to Him. 
    That joy and new life most often come in unexpected times and places.  Remember that no one cared about Mary when she conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit.  She wasn’t a powerful earthly queen; she wasn’t a well-known personality or religious figure.  She was a humble young woman, dedicated to doing God’s will.  Bethlehem, as the prophet Micah says, was the “least among the clans of Judah.”  The Roman province of Judea was not a metropolitan center of activity, but a backwater part of the Empire.  And while Mary and Joseph were both of the house of David, their kingly family had long since lost any political power or prestige.  But from these small, unnoticed, unspectacular circumstances, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, the Lion of the Tribe of Judah would be born and would begin to do what no one else could do: save the human race. 
    And so God will do with us, if we cooperate with His will.  He will raise up the humble, strengthen the weak, and continue His salvation through those who continue to cooperate with Jesus.  He doesn’t need prosperity or clout; all He needs is our willingness to follow His plan. 
    I will end tonight with the words that Pope St. Leo the Great.  Pope St. Leo the Great was supreme pontiff from 440 until 461, a time of great decline in the Roman Empire.  Barbarians were sacking and taking control of lands that had one been ruled by Rome.  False teachings persisted.  Disease and death were everywhere.  His time, like our own, was not easy.  And yet, for the celebration of Christmas, he writes:
 

Dearly beloved, today our Savior is born; let us rejoice.  Sadness should have no place on the birthday of life.  The fear of death has been swallowed up; life brings us joy with the promise of eternal happiness.  No one is shut out from this joy; all share the same reason for rejoicing.  Our Lord, victor over sin and death, finding no man free from sin, came to free us all.  […] When the angels on high are so exultant at this marvelous work of God’s goodness, what joy should it not bring to the lowly hearts of men?

Despite any darkness that comes our way, Jesus, the Light of the World, dispels it all and enlightens us so that we can live in the joy of His radiance.  We are the delight of the Lord, and His spouse.  As long as we stay with Him, no sadness can ruin the joy that belongs to us as sons and daughters in the Son of God, who tomorrow was born for us, Christ the Lord.