It Really Happened

Fourth Sunday of Advent
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Modern American society struggles with accepting some historical facts.  Part of this could stem from the things that began as conspiracy theories and turned out to be true.  But there exists a certain suspicion of facts that cannot be verified to a modern American’s mind.
    This same phenomenon existed at the time of Christ, not so much as when came to history but as it applied to theology.  All over the western world people had told stories about the gods and goddesses and their encounters with people.  Usually, the pagan deities were basically exaggerated versions of humans: in their power; in their strength; in their violence; in their lust.  But for some time, a skepticism had crept in especially among the well-educated that the gods didn’t exist at all.  Yes, everyone kept the festivals, but fewer and fewer actually believed in the realities behind the festivals.  Divinity especially came to be doubted when the emperors started to claim divine status for themselves even though, demonstrably enough, they were mortal.
    In the midst of this doubt, St. Luke describes the real, historical fact of God-made-man.  He starts out today’s Gospel passage: “In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, Pontius Pilate being governor of Judea, and Herod being tetrarch of Galilee, and Philip his brother tetrarch or Inure and the country of Trachonitis, and Lysanias tetrarch of Abilene, under the high priests Annas and Caiphas.”  Luke points out that this is no pagan myth that goes back before anyone could witness it, or where the witnesses are all dead.  He points to a particular time in a particular place where St. John the Baptist begins his mission to prepare the way for the Lord by preaching a baptism of repentance.  His thesis stands thus: Jesus is real; just as real as Caesar, Pontius Pilate, Herod, Philip, Lysanias, Annas, and Caiphas.  

Icon of St. John the Baptist

    And it matches the preaching of the Precursor of the Lord: God is real, and He is finally fulfilling His promise to come among us and save us, so get right with God, because our salvation is at hand.  John wasn’t only telling the well-known Jewish stories about how God promised to send a redeemer who would conquer sin, as Genesis foretold; or how God would raise up a prophet like Moses to whom everyone would need to listen, as Deuteronomy said; or how God would install a Davidic king who would rule for all ages, as 2 Samuel said.  John didn’t simply point back to vague prophecies that waited to be fulfilled.  He told the people that now was the time of salvation, as the long-awaited Messiah came.  
    It is good for us to hear Luke’s account, and to remind ourselves that God is not trying to hide anything from us in way of history, and that our belief in God is not some long-ago wish that bears no relation to reality.  God is real, and the Second Divine Person of the Blessed Trinity came to us to redeem us at a particular time in a particular place.  And even though we were not there, we can trust those who were.
    But Luke also benefits us because Christ will return in glory.  And I think that sometimes we can treat that return like the first-century Jews treated the prophecies about the Messiah: yes, they’re real, but they won’t happen in our time.  We profess, each week, “Et iterum venturus est cum gloria judicare vivos et mortuos;” “He will come again with glory to judge the living and the dead.”  But do we really believe it?  Do we act like it could happen any day, which it could?  Or, do we think that because it didn’t happen in the time of our parents or grandparents, it won’t happen in ours?  
    Advent comes each year to remind us that Christ will return in glory, for which we should be ready.  God reminds us not to let our hearts grow weary because the Bridegroom seems delayed, and not to act as if he’s not coming, like the foolish bridesmaids.  Rather, we are to wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Savior, as St. Paul writes to St. Titus.  
 

  It’s easy for us to get distracted.  We get distracted in Advent because we have Christmas parties to attend, presents to buy, a house to decorate, etc.  We get distracted in life because so many other things–family, a job, or the lack thereof, clothing, food and drink–all seem more real and more pressing.  But nothing is more pressing than our relationship with God.  Our hunger and thirst will pass away; we will outgrow our clothes or the fabric will break down; one day we won’t work; even our family will not always be with us on earth.  But God is eternal.  And, in the end, we will either spend eternity with Him (even if it includes some purification in Purgatory) in Heaven or eternity without Him in Hell.  And part of that calculation will connect to how we prepared for Him to return.  
    Does this mean we live perfectly?  Or that we are scrupulous about every small fault or failing?  No.  But it means we make confession a regular, even monthly or weekly, part of our life.  It means that we give our hearts and minds as best as we can during this Mass to worship God.  It means that we care for the poor, the sick, the suffering, the immigrant, the infant in the womb, the ailing senior citizen, and all those who have no one to rely on but God and His faithful.  It means that we read Scripture regularly and pray with our families.  
    In these last few days of Advent, may we recommit ourselves to making ourselves ready for the return of Christ in glory.  May today’s Gospel instill in us that Christ will, once again, change the course of history with His return, just as He did in His Incarnation some 2,000 years ago.  Who with the Father and the Holy Spirit live and reign for ever and ever.  Amen. 

Quit, Adjust, Or Stay the Course

Third Sunday of Advent

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen].  The Introit/Entrance Antiphon today tells us to rejoice.  In fact, the name we often give this Sunday is Gaudete Sunday, from the Latin first word: the command form of the verb “rejoice.”  As a way of reinforcing this idea that we are to rejoice, the penitential and more somber violet gives way to a slightly lighter shade called rose (not pink).  
    We rejoice, all the liturgical guides tell us, because Advent is more than halfway over.  But as I thought about it, being more than halfway done with something is encouraging, but I wouldn’t necessarily say I would rejoice.  I thought about working out, especially cross-fit-style exercises: I am happy to be at set six out of ten.  But I’m still in the midst of the workout, and often times I’m fairly gassed by then.  I rejoice when I’m done with the workout and have successfully conquered the challenge that (more often than not) others set out for me.
    And maybe you’re on the same page when it comes to Advent.  Even though we are more than halfway done, we’re still in the midst of it all.  Two weeks ago I challenged us to be attentive to how Christ comes to us and to non-Catholics, as well as making sure we help others recognize Christ as He comes to them.  How are we doing with that?  Last week I encouraged us to hope: to focus on eternal salvation and allow the theological virtue to carry us through challenges that come to us each week or maybe even each day.  How have we exercised that virtue of hope?  Maybe Advent has felt like one of my workouts: we give a lot of ourselves, but we’re getting tired and worn out, even though we haven’t finished yet.

    But, like a workout, the key is to finish.  Of course, with Advent, we can’t stop time, and Christmas will come.  But the way we celebrate will correlate to how we finished.  Our options are: give up; adjust; or keep the same pace.  
    Giving up is an option.  It’s not a good option, but it’s an option.  There have been workouts where I’m giving my all, and maybe pushing myself a bit more than I should (especially when I’m working out with someone who is much better shape than I), and then I get to the sixth or seventh round, and I’m gassed.  I remember one workout where we were supposed to deadlift 225 pounds for three reps in one minute, then ride an assault bike for one minute for as many calories as possible, and then get a rest for a minute, and repeat this for ten rounds.  I really pushed myself, trying to keep up with my partner on the assault bike, so that after three rounds, I struggled to keep my breath.  By round six I felt like I had nothing left.  So when round 7 began, I had convinced myself that I couldn’t go on anymore, and I was going to quit.  The minute started for my deadlifts, and I sat on the bench, catching my breath.  I told my partner that I couldn’t go on.  I wanted to quit, and others may have.
    But quitting means that we’re out.  And while a workout is mostly inconsequential, when it comes to our faith, quitting means that we abandon God.  And that’s not a recipe for eternal life.  God never quits on us; He stays with us, no matter how weak or tired we feel we are.  And if we can give even some small bit, God will help us be successful.
    In that particular workout, I dug deep, and made myself finish.  But I had to adjust, which is our second choice.  My calories on the assault bike dropped somewhat significantly.  In other workouts, including one I did just last week, I set a goal that I thought I could attain, doing a squat to shoulder press with 30 pound dumbbells for ten reps, then riding an assault bike for 10 calories, and using the ski machine for 15 calories, each in one minute.  But by round four I realized that my original estimate was unrealistic.  So I had to adjust.  I dropped from ten reps with the dumbbells to eight.  It still pushed me, but I didn’t feel like my arms were going to give out.  My calories on the assault bike also dropped a bit.  But I didn’t give up.  I adjusted my original goals to reflect reality.  
    Maybe this Advent we have set very adventurous goals for our spiritual growth, and we’ve grown a little frustrated because we haven’t achieved those goals yet.  Don’t give up; adjust.  Sometimes we think we have more than we truly have.  We can lower our expectations without stopping altogether.  And when it comes to our relationship with God, continuing the fight, even if we slightly alter our goals, means that we’re doing our best to still respond to God’s grace which makes any good work possible.  Victory may not look like we originally intended, but we can still get a victory that challenged us and helped us to grow in our relationship with God.
    Lastly, sometimes we just keep our same goals.  Sometimes I have had times where I wanted to quit, but I didn’t, and I didn’t even adjust my goals.  My goals challenged me, and I wanted to give up or lower the goals, but I pushed through kept going for all the rounds at the original expectations.  And when I finished, I was so proud that I kept pushing through.  Sometimes when we face challenges in our spiritual life, we have what it takes, we just need to push ourselves.  We struggle, but we don’t give up and don’t let up, and then when the challenges pass, the victory feels all the sweeter.  
    God’s grace can help us succeed even when we think we will fail.  We rejoice at that success, but then we increase our goals, because, like working out, we’re never done; there’s always more we can do.  We can always love God and our neighbor more; we can always respond better to God’s grace; we can always trust God more and abandon our wills to His.  We rejoice at our victories that we have had thus far, and then set new goals that push us more and more.
    And maybe that’s why the Church has us rejoice today.  No doubt, we have had success this Advent in recognizing Christ as He came to us and to those we know.  I’m sure we have hoped even when we wanted to doubt.  Rejoice in those goals you have accomplished by the grace of God.  But do not rest on your laurels.  Because we’re not done.  We’re not done with Advent until Christmas, and we’re not done growing in our spiritual life until we die or until Christ returns in glory.  But, if we have given our all this Advent; if we have given our all in life, then Christmas and the end of time will be the time of complete rejoicing that we have responded to God’s election of us, and that we are achieving faith’s goal: our salvation.  [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.] 

Hoping for Blanton's Gold

Second Sunday of Advent

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]  In October, when I travelled with two other priests and my two barbers down to Kentucky, we had an interesting experience.  It was Wednesday.  My two barbers had gone back to Michigan, because they could only take a couple of days off of work.  So the two other priests, Fr. Brian and Fr. Paul, and I were eating breakfast.  One of the barbers, Zach, texted me to let me know that he had seen that Buffalo Trace was selling Blanton’s Gold, a special kind of Blanton’s bourbon, that day.  It’s often hard enough to find Blanton’s in Michigan, let alone the gold variety.  
    But it was 8:30 a.m., and we three priests were finishing up breakfast in Shepherdsville, Kentucky, about one hour away from Frankfort and Buffalo Trace, and Buffalo Trace opened at 9.  I asked Frs. Brian and Paul if they wanted to try to get some Blanton’s Gold, even though they probably wouldn’t have a lot to sell, there would likely be lots of people already there, or quickly arriving, and we had a 10 a.m. distillery tour that we would have to cancel.  They agreed we should try.
    We got in Fr. Brian’s Jeep, and realized, as we got on the freeway, that we had around 53 miles worth of gas, and Buffalo Trace was around 59 miles away.  So we had to stop and quickly put in 3 gallons of gas, just to make sure we didn’t run out of gas in our effort to get there.  I don’t know how fast Fr. Brian drove, and I didn’t want to know, but we made good time.  When we made it, there was no line, which made me think they were all sold out.  We walked hurriedly into the check-in building, and said we just wanted to go to the gift shop.  The person working the desk said that they had E.H. Taylor and Weller Special Reserve that day.  And then he paused, and continued, “And we also have something else special, but I don’t know if there’s any left.  We just received a red warning, which means that they’ve put out the rest of the supply on the floor, and they won’t be restocking once it’s gone.”  We walked like professional Olympic power-walkers to the gift shop, I almost slipped on the wet floor once I got inside the building, and there, before our eyes, were about 30 more bottles of Blanton’s Gold (limit one per person).  We had hoped that we could get some before it sold out, and we achieved the object of our hope, with all the bottles selling out within 30 minutes of our arrival.

    Advent is a season of hope, not for Blanton’s Gold, but for Christ.  We hear St. Paul tell the Romans today: “Whatever was written previously was written for our instruction, that by endurance and by the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.”  During Advent we enter in to the hope of the Chosen People in those centuries of waiting for the Messiah.  We enter in to the hope that children so wonderfully exemplify as we wait to celebrate Christmas.  We enter in to the hope of Christ’s return in glory at the end of time.  We do a lot of hoping during this Advent season.
    And before us stands the great prophet of hope, St. John the Baptist.  He is the one who prepares the way for the Lord, and informs the people that their hope is about to be fulfilled as the Lamb of God comes to them.  He calls others to repentance so that they are ready to attain the object of their hope, the Messiah.
    But what is hope?  “Hope,” the Catechism tells us, “is the theological virtue by which we desire the kingdom of heaven and eternal life as our happiness, placing our trust in Christ’s promises and relying not on our own strength, but on the help of the grace of the Holy Spirit.”  The Catechism continues, 
 

The virtue of hope responds to the aspiration of happiness which God has placed in the heart of every man; it takes up the hopes that inspire men’s activities and purifies them so as to order them to the Kingdom of heaven; it keeps man from discouragement; it sustains him during times of abandonment; it opens up his heart in expectation of eternal beatitude.

Hope, in its highest form, points us toward heaven and eternal salvation.  Hope keeps us going when the going gets tough.  Hope reminds us that this world is not all there is, but that all will be made right when Christ returns in glory.  
    But hope means that we do not yet possess what we desire.  St. Paul, earlier in his letter to the Romans, writes, “Now hope that sees for itself is not hope.  For who hopes for what one sees?”  I didn’t hope for Blanton’s Gold once I put it in my cart; I possessed it.  Hope carried us on as we traveled I-64 east bound and down, as the song goes.  

    And because we do not yet possess eternal life, we can doubt, which is the vice opposite hope.  We wonder if the waiting is really worth it, and if our reward will ever get here, like a child who wonders if 25 December will ever get here.  Even St. John the Baptist seems to have had some doubts.  After our Lord began His public ministry and Herod had arrested John, John sent messengers to ask Christ: “‘Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?’”  Even while Christ was on earth, the Kingdom was not established in its fulness.  But already, signs were present that it was breaking into the world, and that Christ would install it: “‘The blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead rise again, [and] the poor have the good news preached to them.’”  
    So, in our own time, there are signs to us of the Kingdom’s approach.  More and more people come to faith and Holy Baptism; they receive strength to walk towards Christ and lead others through Confirmation; God cleans us of sin through confession; God heals our lack of openness to His Word; we rise to new life through Holy Baptism; and those who know they need God do not go away disappointed.  God continues to bring about His kingdom, if we have eyes to see.  St. Theresa of Avila encourages us:
 

Hope, O my soul, hope.  You know neither the day nor the hour.  Watch carefully, for everything passes quickly, even though your impatience makes doubtful what is certain, and turns a very short time into a long one.  Dream that the more you struggle, the more you prove the love that you bear your God, and the more you will rejoice one day with your Beloved, in a happiness and rapture that can never end.

    So, during this Advent season, may we continue to hope.  May it help us persevere when doubts creep it.  May hope strengthen us to keep walking when the pilgrimage through this vale of tears seems too difficult.  And may our hope be rewarded when, at our death or the return of Christ in glory, we see the object of our hope, God, face to face [the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, who lives and reigns for ever and ever.  Amen].

Advent: A Time of Conversion

First Sunday of Advent

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen].  One of the many duties with which I help out for the Michigan State Police, or MSP for short, is working with those who want to join the MSP.  Wednesday nights will generally find me at Grand Blanc High School as I help applicants with water rescue drills (like treading water while passing a 10-pound brick, water pull-ups, and rescuing me or others who pretend to be drowning).  I have also “helped” applicants with physical training (though, they have mostly been in better shape than I am).  There’s a new Trooper Recruit School that will start in January, the 150th since the Department was founded in 1917, and a few of the applicants I have worked with will be in that school.  I want to make sure they are prepared as they can be before it starts, and I’m excited and hopeful for them to make it all the way through the twenty grueling weeks and graduate in May 2026.  I can’t do it for them, but I can assist them before and pray for them during their training.

    In Advent we focus on preparing for Christ: for His first coming some 2,000 years ago; for our celebration of His coming at Christmas; for His return in glory (we often refer to this as His second coming).  But He also comes to us, and not only us, in our day-to-day lives.  Our readings today, especially our Gospel, focus us on remaining watchful for the return of Christ in glory.  But we should also remain on high alert for the ways Christ wants to come to us today, and tomorrow, and the days afterwards.
    I also believe that Advent is also a special time to recognize how Christ comes to those who do not know Him, or do not know Him fully.  Advent is a special time to focus on conversions for those who do not believe in Christ, or for those who believe in Christ but do not have full union with the one Church He founded (the Catholic Church), or for those who have fallen away from the practice of their faith.  Are we attentive to how Christ works in the lives of those who are, in any way, ignorant of Him?
    It might seem odd to think that Christ could work in the heart of someone who is not directly connected to God in one way or another or who has walked away from Him.  But God offers what we call prevenient grace, the grace that comes before a movement of the soul towards God.  If we didn’t acknowledge this, we would say that we do some good work without God, and that God simply affirms the good we work we have begun, or gives us an ‘atta boy for something He hadn’t planned for us.  Instead, we know that any movement toward God is already a grace, because God begins all good work, and our job consists in cooperating with that grace.
    So who are the people in our lives that do not yet know God or do not recognize Christ as the Messiah or do not practice their Catholic faith?  God desires the salvation of every person.  God doesn’t want us to force conversion (as if a true conversion could be forced), but wants us to help others understand that He does exist, and not only that, but He loves us and wants to be in a relationship with us.  How do we do this?  For starters, we pray for that person.  Saul, who later became St. Paul, did not at first believe that our Lord was the Messiah, but I’m sure people prayed that he, a great Jewish scholar, might have the scales fall from his mind that prevented him from acknowledging how Jesus fulfilled the Old Testament prophecies of the Messiah.  And we know just how powerfully that happened, and how St. Paul became one of the world’s greatest proclaimers of the Gospel.  And all that from the prayers of those who followed Christ and who probably suffered persecution from Saul.
    Secondly, we can be attentive to what’s going on in a friend’s life.  When a person struggles or when an unexpected favor happens, that’s a great time to talk to them about God and His Church.  Christ wants the other to see how faith in Him can conquer any problem, and that He showers His blessings upon every person so that they can believe in Him.  But Christ uses us to help others to see that.  Maybe the conversation about God is not too explicit at first, but helping others to see God’s plan, and the ways we can cooperate with that plan, can help bring a person to faith.
    Thirdly, we can help them see that a full relationship with God and the truth He has revealed happens in the Catholic Church.  Sometimes Catholics get a little queasy about this part, because they may not feel like they know enough about the Church to answer all questions a person might have.  Don’t be afraid of saying, “I don’t know; let’s find out together.”  Or maybe, “I’ve always just trusted that it was true.  I can ask around to make sure this makes sense.”  The truths of the faith will stand up to any inquiry and academic rigor.  We don’t have to be afraid of other people questioning certain teachings.  
    So this Advent, commit yourself to watching for Christ to make himself known in someone who is not Catholic.  Pray for a non-Catholic or fallen away Catholic; help a non-Catholic or fallen away Catholic see how God is working or could work in his or her life; explain why the Catholic Church means so much to you and how her teachings help one live a truly happy life.  Will you always see successful conversions?  No.  But you will fulfill the call of Advent to watch for Christ’s coming in your daily life, and what joy you will have if that person does decide to become Catholic and join us as we all watch and wait for Christ to return in glory [who, with the Father, and the Holy Spirit, live and reign for ever.  Amen].

Rejoicing and Patience

Third Sunday of Advent
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Patience is not a virtue at which I generally excel.  While we had posted the Office Manager job, I wanted good candidates to immediately apply for the position.  My best friend is sometimes bad at responding to texts, and I struggle when he doesn’t respond to me quickly enough (at least quickly enough in my mind).  And, generally, I respond pretty quickly, whether to an RSVP, a request for information, or to a text or a phone call.  In fact, I’m becoming a bit of a cause celeb among the Diocese of Lansing priests because I usually pick up my cell phone on the first ring, which somehow means it hasn’t even rung once for the person calling (I don’t know how that happens).

    So, as we hear the word “rejoice” today in the introit and in the epistle, which both come from Philippians chapter four, verse four, I’m all for it!  We rejoice because soon we don’t have to be patient anymore!  The celebration of our Lord’s Nativity, the day when our salvation became known in the flesh, is closer than the beginning of our time of waiting in Advent.  Our waiting is closer to finishing than when we first began waiting.
    But, we rejoice, not because we don’t have to exhibit the virtue of patience.  We rejoice because we can celebrate soon.  And that goes for our celebration of the Nativity (which will become an even greater focus in the readings in the coming days), but also for the return of Christ in glory.  The second coming is closer today than yesterday.  And that second coming is when all will be made right, the righteous will be welcomed into heaven to enjoy eternal bliss.
    But, we can even rejoice today because we know that Christ has come to save us, and that the salvation He offers us we can receive at any time.  Christmas is near.  The return of Christ is near.  But Christ offers us the gift of salvation now.  All we have to do is take hold of it and make it a part of our lives.  
    We see this most especially in two important Advent sacraments: Penance (confession) and the Eucharist.  Through the Sacrament of Penance, God reconciles us to Himself.  Twice in two verses in his second epistle to the Corinthians, St. Paul talks about how God reconciled the world to Himself in Christ.  That was the good news of Christmas and the Incarnation.  But that good news still applies today.  God is still reconciling the world to Himself through Christ.  And in the Sacrament of Penance, we participate in that reconciliation.  God takes our sins, like my impatience, and He removes it from us, and gives us in its place His grace, which is really His life.  He breaks down all the barriers between us and Him that sin creates, “so that we might become the righteousness of God in him,” to use the words of St. Paul from that same second epistle to the Corinthians.  In the Sacrament of Penance, the Holy Spirit accomplishes in us what Christ accomplished when He died on the cross.  And that is certainly a reason to rejoice.
    Likewise, in the Eucharist, we receive our salvation.  Christ gives Himself to us under the sacramental signs of bread and wine which truly become the Body and the Blood of Christ, so that we can have, in the most special way on earth, Christ living within us.  The same Second Person of the Blessed Trinity who, by the power of the Holy Spirit, took flesh and humbled Himself to be born with our human nature, again humbles Himself by allowing bread and wine to become Him, and allowing us to see His Sacred Flesh and Precious Blood with our eyes of faith.  The same Incarnate Lord whom St. Joseph, his foster father, held in his arms, I get to hold in my hands and give to you.  The same Suffering Servant who offered His life for the salvation of the world by dying on the Cross, joins us to that same sacrifice on Calvary through the Mass.  As I invite you to “Behold the Lamb of God,” (“Ecce Agnus Dei”), I remind you how near the Lord is to you and encourage you to rejoice as you behold your salvation.  And this is certainly a reason to rejoice.
    Patience is not my greatest virtue.  I continue to work at growing in that virtue which is described by St. Thomas Aquinas quoting Tully, “the voluntary and prolonged endurance of arduous and difficult things for the sake of virtue.”  And this virtue will help us to wait these next ten days until we celebrate Christmas, and these next days, however many, until Christ returns in glory.  But, what we will celebrate at Christmas, and what we await at the end of time, we also have now: Christ our God, reconciling us to the Father, who with the Son and the Holy Spirit is God, for ever and ever.  Amen.  

Slowing Time Down

First Sunday of Advent

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]  We tend to think of time as a constant.  There are sixty seconds in a minute, sixty minutes in an hour, twenty-four hours in a day, seven days in a week, fifty-two weeks in a year.  And to each of those measurements we have assigned a certain value that goes steadily on.
    But the speed of time seems to vary for each person depending on the circumstances.  Sixty seconds is not a long time, and when you’re doing other things, it passes quickly.  But if you’re doing a plank, sixty seconds can seem like an eternity.  I did a physical test with the Michigan State Police a month or so ago, and I told the administrator that I struggled to plank beyond a minute.  He told me to start the plank, but instead of looking at the clock, start talking to him and carrying on a conversation.  Before I knew it, I had planked for two minutes.
    This time of year, as we prepare for Christmas, time seems to pass differently for children than for adults.  For adults, there are presents to buy, the house to decorate, cookies to bake, parties to attend, in addition to the usual work schedule.  Time flies by.  But for children, as Christmas gets nearer and nearer, the days seem to slow down, rather painfully, and it seems like Christmas and the joy of unwrapping presents will never come.  Even the hours of Christmas Eve, waiting for the time when parents allow the children to come downstairs and open up their gifts, seem interminably long.
    Perhaps the same could be said as we await the return of our Lord in glory.  For some this time of waiting for our end or the end of time flies by.  I have noted in my own life that the older I get, the faster time goes.  And if we’re not living in such a way that we are ready for Christ’s return, then when it does come, either at the hour of our death or when Christ returns to judge all the living and the dead, it will probably seem like it snuck up on us. 
    On the other hand, for those who are living in such a way as to welcome Christ back; for those who are doing all they can to live according to the commandment of Christ, it might seem like the second coming, the parousia, will never arrive.  In our own times, each day it can often seem to get harder and harder to live as a devoted Catholic, as the secular order moves farther and farther away from holding up a way of life that Christ instructed us to live.
    During this time of Advent, we have a yearly reminder to prepare ourselves for the three comings, the three advents, of Christ: the celebration of the Nativity of the Lord, when we first learned that God had become man; the daily coming of Christ into our hearts and souls; and the coming in glory of Christ at the end of time.  And how we choose to prepare will guide the way that we experience each passage of time. 
    Christ encourages us to be like children, and during Advent this is especially true, as I mentioned that children often experience the preparation for Christmas to be excruciatingly long.  Of course, we adults have to work, whether in or outside of the home.  And that gives time a certain velocity.  But when it comes for our preparations for the celebration of Christmas, do we long for that day with the same longing of children?  Not for the presents, but for the joy of celebrating the Incarnation.  Each time we say the Creed, the Church asks us to make a profound bow (in the Ordinary Form) or genuflect (in the Extraordinary Form and for everyone one on Christmas at at the Solemnity of the Annunciation) because of the great wonder of that day.  During this Advent, we should daily remind ourselves of just how wonderful Christmas is and long for it because we long for the celebration of when we learned just how close God wanted to be to us.  Perhaps every day we can genuflect or bow and say that short phrase from the Creed, “and by the Holy Spirit was incarnate of the Virgin Mary, and became man.”  If we keep that great day of celebration at the front of our minds, we will long for it more, and the more we long for it, the more we will have time to prepare for it.
    When it comes to waiting for the second coming, our anticipation is guided by the daily coming of Christ into our life.  Advent is similar to Lent.  It is a time of repentance so that we can be prepared for the joy of Christmas, just as our Lenten repentance prepares us for Easter.  Our Lord encourages us to watch and be ready in the Gospel today.  We watch when we pay attention to what we think, what we say, and what we do.  Do we seek to align our thoughts on Christ and His reign, or are they busied with other things of less importance?  Do our words convey the grace that comes from Christ, or do we spread hate and division which come from the evil one?  Can people tell, from my actions, that I follow Christ?  Or do I practically live as an atheist, not acknowledging God and His reign in my heart, but living as if God is, at best, far off and unconcerned with my actions, or, at worst, dead? 
    The more we long for the day of the Lord’s return, the slower it will seem to come.  But the slower it seems to come, the more joy we will find when it finally does arrive.  I think back to the week before my ordination to the priesthood.  I had studied and been formed for eight years in seminary.  I had discerned a call to the priesthood, and the Church had confirmed that call.  But that least week in particular seemed like it was never going to end, that I would never come to the day of my ordination to the priesthood.  But when it did come, there was a joy that words cannot adequately express.  For those of you who are married, you probably experienced something similar the week leading up to your wedding (though I bet you’re glad you didn’t have to be engaged for eight years!).  I know that, from the groom’s perspective, seeing his bride walk up the aisle as the wedding begins can be so overwhelming it brings even the gruffest men to tears. 
    During this Advent, I hope time goes very slowly for you.  No, I’m not hoping that your life is painful.  But I hope that, because of our great longing for Christmas and the second coming of Christ, each day will seem long, because the goal of our waiting, whether for Christmas or the parousia, is not here yet.  And when that happens, our joy at Christmas and at the parousia will almost certainly be a joy beyond all telling, because He has come to us to save us from sin and death, Jesus Christ, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit is God, for ever and ever.  Amen.  

John, Pumbaa, and a Street Preacher

 Third Sunday of Advent

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]. For the first week of Advent I focused on waiting.  Last week I focused on preparing.  This week I’d like to focus on St. John the Baptist, who, as I mentioned last week, prepares the way for the Lord’s coming.
    Honestly, I always get the timeline with St. John the Baptist messed up in my head.  Because we hear about the Baptizer so much in Advent, I always picture him preaching at the Jordan before Christ was even born.  Of course, the Scriptures are clear that John was about six months older than our Lord.  So John’s preaching in the wilderness happens sometime around the Year of our Lord 30.  
    The Precursor, as he is also called, demonstrated an extreme care for doing God’s will, even others did not experience that care as normal.  John preached and baptized in the northern part of the Promised Land (the modern-day site is in Jordan and Israel, with the Jordan River acting as a natural border).  He wore camel-hair clothing and ate locusts (I’m sure Pumbaa would chime in that they’re delicious and nutritious and taste just like chicken).  
    People were drawn to this fire-brand in the wilderness.  The Forerunner (another way of referring to St. John the Baptist) drew many to his message.  Average people came to see him and hear him preach repentance, which they did, and many sought baptism.  Even soldiers (those would have been Roman soldiers) went to hear his message.  As, as the Gospel of John relates, this attracted the priests and Pharisees to examine who this character was.  They wondered if he might be Elijah (prophesied by Malachi to come before the Messiah), or even the Prophet that Moses spoke about in Deuteronomy.  But John simply identifies himself as the fulfillment of the prophecy of Isaiah, the voice of one crying in the wilderness to prepare the way of the Lord.
    I often tend to think of John like a street preacher.  I can’t say that I find street preachers usually an example of attracting people to the Gospel.  I remember one street preacher who was preaching as I was walking back from an MSU football game when I was a priest in East Lansing.  He was telling people to repent from their drunkenness and debauchery.  Yelling is probably a more accurate word than telling.  As I walked past I looked at him, and he must have noticed my glance, because he then said something to the effect of, “And don’t think your collar will save you from the fires of hell!”  Perhaps needless to say, I walked on by him, as everyone else did the same.

Statue of St. John the Baptist in Ein Kerem

    Whatever that street preacher lacked, John certainly didn’t.  Even with his strange clothing and diet, people knew that they were not living they way they should, and his message encouraged many to repent and be baptized.  This baptism wasn’t for the forgiveness of sins, but prepared for the baptism of Christ, a baptism the Precursor himself described of the Holy Spirit and fire.  
    I think the question for us as we rejoice while celebrating Gaudete Sunday (that Advent is more than half over), is how we prepare others to receive Christ.  John basically set the table for our Lord, and when the Savior appeared on the scene, John faded away, as he noted, referring to Christ, “He must increase, I must decrease.”  Yes, we hear about him with some disciples while he is in prison, under the watchful eye of King Herod, but John’s importance is only to prepare for Jesus’ coming and manifestation.  
    One of the struggles when trying to bring others to Christ is to make it about us.  I’m obviously not opposed to personal stories that hopefully help connect you to the Gospel.  But I try to make sure that, by what I do and what I say, you can grow closer to Christ.  It’s not about me; it’s all about Him.  We are drawn to certain personalities more than others, and to the extent that they bring us closer to Christ, praise God!  But how it easy can it be to leave people only connected to ourselves, rather than moving them to the Redeemer.
    All of us are called to draw others to Christ, to prepare them to receive the Lord.  It’s not just the jobs of priests, deacons, and consecrated men and women.  In many ways, the witness of the lay faithful can bear more fruit, because your life mirrors other laypersons.  It could be the person at work, the members of your family, or even strangers on the road or in the grocery store.  Does the way you act and the words you say prepare them to hear the Gospel?  Or does it lead to scratching of heads because others know that we’re Catholic, but we’re not acting too saintly?  Are we patient with the waitress who is overworked and taking a little longer to get our food, or maybe even messing up the order?  Do we snap at the customer service representative on the phone, or give the one-finger salute to a bad driver on the road?
    Parents, in particular, have the special vocation of preparing others for Christ by demonstrating what it means to live the faith by the way they treat each other as spouses, and their children.  Do you make time for daily prayer?  Do you speak with respect to your spouse, and build him or her up?  Is discipline, which is necessary, done out of anger or out of love, and do the children know the difference?  While children will, eventually, make their own decisions about whether or not they will practice the faith (just like those who heard the Forerunner could choose to follow him and then follow the Lord, or could walk away and go back to their own lives), how the faith is lived out makes a huge difference.  This is true for the role mothers have (our moms are often so talented and sharing the faith with us), but is also true for fathers.  When dad practices the faith, the children are much more likely to continue to live the faith into adulthood.  
    John the Baptist had a particular vocation to prepare the way for Christ.  But God desires all of us to connect others with our Lord by the way we live, by the words we speak, especially, but not limited to, the way our family develops.  Are we leading people on winding roads away from God, or are we making straight the paths that lead to our God [the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen]?

Waiting

First Sunday of Advent

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.].  Advent, I would argue, is a time that is particularly good for our current culture.  I say that, because Advent is a time of waiting.  And we are, as a culture, really bad at waiting.  We are bad at waiting because, more often than not, we don’t have to wait for anything.  If I want to know something, I do a Google search or ask Siri, and almost instantaneously get a response.  If I want food, I pre-order it on my app so that it’s waiting for me when I arrive.  I spend the money for Amazon prime so that I can get almost anything I want within two days of ordering it.  If I need to send a message I can get it to the person immediately by email or texting.  We really don’t wait for that much in life anymore.
    There are obvious exceptions.  We generally still wait for weddings (though even those are happening much more quickly these days, as people, sadly, decide not to get married in the church).  We wait for babies to be born (though as a man, I’m not sure I can truly appreciate the desire of a woman, especially in the last weeks of her term, for the baby to exit the womb).  Those two precious events necessitate waiting, but the wait is worth it, as the joy of celebrating is even greater after the weeks and months of desiring that momentous event.
    Advent’s wait is primarily twofold: the remembrance of the waiting of the Chosen People for their long-awaited Messiah, and our waiting for that same Messiah, Jesus Christ, to return to us in glory.  The waiting of the Chosen People began before they were even a people.  Adam and Eve, after their fall, heard God’s promise of a redeemer, as God told the snake who had led to the Fall: “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; He will strike at your head while you strike at his heel.”  Even then, at the beginning of creation, God promised a redeemer, the offspring of Eve, who would strike at the head of the serpent.
    Fast-forward some centuries to Abraham, our father in faith.  Scripture scholars estimate that Abraham lived sometime between 2100 and 2000 BC.  When God called Abraham out of Ur of the Chaldeans, God promised that Abraham would become a great nation, and a source of blessing for “all the communities of the earth.”  Of course, that happened through our Savior, the son of Abraham, but it took some over two thousand years for that promise to come true. 

From atop Mt. Nebo, where Moses recounted the Exodus for the Chosen People

    Fast-forward to around the 1400s BC to Moses, reminding the Israelites of all that had happened to them since they left Egypt.  Moses prophesied, “‘A prophet like me will the Lord, your God, raise up for you among your own kinsmen; to him you shall listen.’”  The Gospel according to St. John makes clear that some believed our Lord to be “the prophet,” the fulfillment of Moses’ prophecy.  But they had to wait almost a millennium and a half.
    Fast-forward to around the year 1000 BC and King David, resting from all his enemies, desiring to build a temple for the Ark of the Covenant.  God promises David, as the prophet Nathan tells him, “‘I will raise up your heir after you, sprung from your loins, and I will make his kingdom firm.’”  Christ is the Son of David.  As our Lord entered Jerusalem for His Passion, the people chanted, “‘Hosanna to the Son of David; blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.”  And Christ even asks the Pharisees, “‘Whose son is [the Messiah]?’  They replied, ‘David’s.’” 
    Fast-forward to 445 BC, and the composition of the Book of the Prophet Malachi, the last prophet in what we call the Old Testament.  Through Malachi, God promises to send a messenger to prepare the way, and to send Elijah before the day of the Lord, and even that “there will come to the temple the Lord whom you seek.”  But even this was 445 years before our Lord was even born!  If you put the average age of a person at 45, that’s nine generations between Malachi and the Nativity.  Or, to put it another way, if you were around at the time of the first Christmas, the prophecies of Malachi were at the time of your great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather.  That’s a lot of waiting!!  And you thought waiting for Michigan to beat Ohio State in Columbus was long!!
    And we have been waiting almost 2,000 years for Christ to return in glory.  God continues to speak to us through His Church, and we hear about, and maybe even experience, miracles by which God reinforces His presence and love for us.  But we can become complacent, and think and act like Christ will not return.  He, Himself, tells us in the Gospel according to St. Matthew, that it will be like in the days of Noah, where Noah had prepared the ark according to God’s command.  Sill, there was some waiting before the rain fell, and people probably thought Noah was nuts.  But once the rain came, they had wished they had prepared. 
    Christ also tells us, in the Gospel according to St. Luke, that when we see the signs, we should be ready for the His return.  Those signs have been with us each century, which is Christ’s way of telling us to always be ready, because He could return at any time.  Our wait could be over in a heartbeat.  Have we given up on waiting because it’s been so long?  Or are we ready each day for Christ to return in glory? 
    It can be difficult to wait so long.  It can be difficult to live as we are supposed to when we don’t get what we want immediately.  The works of darkness can seem so tempting when we think we have time.  Instead, God calls us to put on the armor of light, to put on the Lord Jesus Christ, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit live and reign for ever and ever.  Amen.  

Rejoicing in the midst of Darkness

 Third Sunday of Advent

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen. When I was a young child, our tradition for decorating the house for Christmas was always done on my parents’ anniversary, 14 December.  While we were away at school (5 out of 7 years), my dad and mom, who took the day off, would do the majority of the decorating, especially putting up the tree and putting out the fragile items.  As it was their anniversary, they were also probably happy when we were away at school so that they could celebrate with only each other for a few hours.  When we got home from school, we would put the less fragile items up and put the kid-friendly ornaments on the Christmas tree.
    When I lived in my own house as the pastor of St. Joseph in Adrian, I had to develop my own decorating tradition.  I guess I could have stayed with my parents’ anniversary, but decided to have a date that was more special for me, which was the anniversary of the Dedication of the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception, our Lansing Cathedral, which is the church in which I was ordained a priest.  So, since 2014, on 9 December, after I’m done with Masses, I put up the tree and the other decorations I use to make my house seem more Chistmas-sy.  
    But I will admit that this year, I was tempted not even to decorate at all.  This is not to indulge in self-pity or gain your pity, but life has been very busy of late.  For the 7 days from 27 November to 4 December, I celebrated or concelebrated 5 funerals, including 2 on Friday, 3 December.  And that’s on top of an already generally full schedule.  After that week, there was the extra duties with the Immaculate Conception holyday, and then trying to get everything done in time for Christmas.  And, in the background, there was the house explosion (Hogarth Avenue is still closed in that part of the road), and then the school shooting in Oxford.  There’s a new variant of COVID (as there seems to be every few months), people keep fighting about vaccines, and then just the usual everyday drama that occurs in life.  And the thought of decorating my house for Christmas seemed like too much, requiring too much energy and time.  But, I went through the discipline, and this past Thursday, 9 December, decorated my house for Christmas.  
    As we come to this third Sunday of Advent, we’re supposed to rejoice.  We call this Sunday Gaudete Sunday, because of the Introit, or Entrance Antiphon, which comes from the Letter of St. Paul to the Philippians.  “Rejoice in the Lord always: again I say, rejoice.”  The prophet Zephaniah has a similar message in our first reading: “Shout for joy, O daughter Zion!  Sing joyfully, O Israel!  Be glad and exult with all your heart, O daughter Jerusalem!”  And the message gets taken up again in the reading from the New Testament.  But for some this year, it doesn’t seem like a time of rejoicing.  People continue to come to me with the COVID blues, whether as a long-lasting symptom of having had the virus, or simply being tired with dealing with COVID everywhere you turn.  In our area, at least, death and the threat of death crop up regularly.  And it’s simply busy for all of us, priest and parent alike.  
    So it might be helpful to put into context the people who are giving us this message of “Rejoice!”  Otherwise, we could simply write them off as holy people who were so disconnected from the world that they didn’t have to worry about it.  Zephaniah was writing sometime between the years 640 and 609 BC.  That period is described in my Biblical introduction to the book as, “a time of religious degradation, while the old idolatries reappeared and men worshipped sun, moon, and stars.  Rites completely alien to the pure monotheism taught by Moses flourished in Jerusalem.”  Doesn’t sound like happy times.  And Zephaniah’s message was mainly one of God’s judgement against the People, which probably was not received well by others.  It isn’t the sort of thing that gets you invited over to parties.

Statue of St. Paul in Rome

    St. Paul wrote the Letter to the Philippians while in jail, probably in Rome, and possibly was dying.  Scripture scholars date the letter to somewhere around AD 59-63, not long before he died by being beheaded.  Nero was emperor, and likely was starting to persecute the Christians more and more.  So life wasn’t hunky-dory for St. Paul, either.
    And yet, we hear from both, “Rejoice!”  How can one rejoice when so many things go wrong?  Or, to quote Theoden from “The Two Towers,” “So much death.  What can men do against such reckless hate?”  
    But this is precisely the beauty of Catholicism.  In the midst of evil and darkness, the Church dares to say rejoice because we already know that death, sin, and darkness have lost.  We rejoice because we are preparing to celebrate the birth of the one who put all fallen things down and brought everlasting light to the world.  As Catholics, we don’t ignore the evil, whether moral or natural, that are around us.  But we let it fall off us as water beads off the back of a duck, knowing that, because of Christ, it cannot truly harm us.  God doesn’t promise us a life without struggle, but He does promise a reward after struggling while we are united to Christ.  He doesn’t promise us that we won’t get tired, but He does promise to give us eternal rest.  We rejoice because we are God’s, and God will not let anyone take us out of His hands, as long as we choose to remain with Him and respond to His grace.  In the words of Psalm 32 [new numbering], “Though flood waters threaten, they will never reach him.”  
    We are not Pollyannas; we are Catholics.  And we rejoice because each day we are closer to the day when Christ will return and set everything right.  The longing in our hearts for the end of death, illness, destruction, violence, lies, slander, etc., is not a pipe dream.  He whose Word is Truth, Who is Truth Incarnate, has promised to return one day and put an end to everything fallen.  We trust in that word, and we long for it, as much as and more than a child longs to wake up to find presents under the tree at Christmas.  And so we make our little acts of rejoicing, even in the face of so much that is wrong and sad.  We put up Christmas decorations, not because it’s easy and enjoyable, necessarily, but because it reminds us of the one who came to set us free, and who will come again.  No matter what occurs in our life, we rejoice always in the Lord, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, who will bring us true joy at His coming.  Amen. 

How Much or Little We Prepare

 First Sunday of Advent

    In one of the final building scenes of the movie, “A Few Good Men,” Lt. Daniel Kaffee, played by Tom Cruise, questions Col. Nathan R. Jessep, played by Jack Nicholson.  At one point, Lt. Kaffee asks Col. Jessep what preparations he made to travel from Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, to Washington, D.C., for the trial of two marines under Col. Jessep’s command who allegedly had killed Private Willie Santiago.  Col. Jessep says that he wore his utility uniform on the plane, but packed his dress uniform.  Lt. Kaffee continues asking if Col. Jessep brought his “Toothbrush, shaving kit, change of underwear,” which Col. Jessep confirmed.  Col. Jessep later states that he called a family member, a Congressman, and a friend in DC to let them know that he was coming.  Lt. Kaffee skillfully compares the preparation Col. Jessep made for a short trip to the total lack of preparations Pvt. Santiago made for being transferred from Gitmo for the rest of his life.  Without giving away the climax of the movie, the truth of what happened is revealed through the preparations, or the lack of preparations, made by Pvt. Santiago.
    As we begin our season of Advent, we are in a season of preparation.  We are not Marines begging to get away from a tough commanding officer, but followers of Christ, waiting to celebrate with joy the annual celebration of the Nativity of the Lord, and waiting for our Lord to return.  But our preparations, or the lack of preparations, tell us about how or if we will be prepared for when Christmas comes and when Christ returns.  Because the Gospels are clear, through many parables, that if Christ catches us off-guard, it will not be good for us.
    When we think about preparing as a Church, we generally put more emphasis on Lent as a penitential time to prepare for Easter.  But Advent, too, is a time of penance and denying ourselves so that we can be ready to celebrate with joy.  Advent is a kind of mini-Lent, shorter, and leading up to a celebration that is not as big as Easter.  But it is still meant to help us grow in prayer and the life of virtue.
    We may not always think of sacrificing as a good thing.  But we are good at sacrificing for things that we really want.  Perhaps you are working overtime during these weeks leading up to Christmas to pay for the extra expenses for family and friends.  Kids, who usually like to sleep in, will deny themselves those extra hours of sleep on Christmas morning to see what kind of presents they received.  When we treasure something, we are willing to change our lives for the thing we treasure.  Are we willing to do the same for our Lord this Advent?
    It is easy to get caught up in the hustle and bustle of these days leading up to Christmas.  Besides our usual responsibilities at work and/or home, there’s the decorations that will need to go up (or have already gone up), the parties with families and friends, and Christmas music has been playing on some radio stations since just after Halloween.  There’s also the stress of trying to find that just-right gift for the ones we love, the question of how much we can afford to spend, and how much we want to travel as snow starts to fall and make our commutes a bit more difficult than usual.  If we are not purposeful about taking time to prepare, before we know it, we’ll be getting ready to go to Christmas Mass and wondering where the time went.  I know that November, for me at least, has flown by; I’m not sure exactly why it went so quickly, but it did.  Even more so will December likely fly by.  So we should make plans now for how we can prepare, rather than fall into Christmas.
    Like Lent, the Church invites us to pray more during Advent.  During Lent we pray especially for mercy and recognizing our sins, as we “turn away from sin and be faithful to the Gospel.”  During Advent we can also pray for mercy and seek conversion, the avoidance of sin and the embracing of good.  But we do so with the view of preparing for Christ to return and wanting to keep our baptismal garments white with purity, as our parents or we were instructed to do at baptism.  
    We can also make our own the prayer of the early Church, marana tha, “Come, Lord,” and ask for Jesus to return.  We know that this world is not the way it is supposed to be.  And we know that when our Lord returns He will set everything right.  Our prayer should be for that to happen soon, so that pain, sorrow, and suffering do not have to last any longer, but can come to and end and wholeness, joy, and happiness can be the only thing that we disciples experience.  
    In Advent, we also focus on bringing more light into our lives, namely, the light of Christ.  In our part of the world, it’s dark–a lot–this time of year.  You wake up in darkness, and you eat dinner in darkness.  And yet, we are preparing for the Light of the World, Christ, to come forth from the womb of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and to shine upon the darkness of our lives and our world so that we can see clearly.  Our Advent candles remind us of the growing light.  And again, Advent is a time to reflect on our baptism, when we received a baptismal candle and were told to keep it burning until the return of Christ in glory, like the wise virgins with their lamps in the Gospel parable.  How do we keep the light of faith alive in our hearts?  How do we share that light with others so that they, too, can see?  What guides are enlightening our pilgrim path through this world?  Is it simply worldly wisdom, which often leads us away from God, or is it the wisdom of Scripture and the teachings of the Church, which guide us to the sun that never sets in heaven, Jesus Christ our Lord?  
    Advent, like Lent, is also a time of almsgiving, of helping the poor.  We have our giving tree that is up at St. Pius X, and so many organizations collect money and toys for those who do not have the financial resources to celebrate this time of year with food or presents that many of us take for granted.  Especially in the cold, winter months, we can assist others with donating gloves, hats, and coats to keep people warm, especially if we no longer use them and they are just taking up space in our closet.  Service to the poor is a year-round call for us as disciples, but especially as we prepare to welcome Christ at Christmas.  In centuries gone past, the preparation for Christmas began closer to St. Martin’s Day, 11 November.  St. Martin was a soldier who became a bishop in France, but as a soldier he cut his cloak in two to give to a poor man who was cold along the side of the road.  That night in a dream, he saw Christ with that cloak, and knew vividly what our Lord said in the Gospel of Matthew: Whatever you do for the least of my brothers and sisters, you do for me.  Our own charity can mimic St. Martin’s in our shorter preparation for Christmas.
    Our end is in our beginning.  Our preparations dictate how the actual event will go.  Advent is an easily-missed season, because it is so short, and because we have so much going on.  But take time to prepare, not only for all that is going on in your work and personal life, but for our Lord’s Nativity and His second coming in glory.  Don’t let Christ catch you off-guard when He comes!

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

Ways to Prepare for Christmas

First Sunday of Advent
    Probably the question people have asked me the most about my trip to Australia (other than the general, “how was it?”) was: “How was the flight to Sydney?”  My particular route was Flint to Chicago to Houston to Sydney (and that same route in reverse for the return trip), and the flight from Houston to Sydney alone was sixteen and a half hours on the way there, and sixteen hours on the way back.  That’s a long time to be on a plane.  And, I have to admit, on my return flight, almost as soon as I got on the plane, I wanted to be back in Flint, driving home from Bishop International Airport.  But of course, I was far from that reality.
    Perhaps we’re in the same boat as we enter Advent.  Our four weeks (24 days this year) of Advent might seem like a sixteen and a half hour flight, and all we want to do is be at Christmas.  Don’t get me wrong; the destination is the most important part.  We cannot say, as so many often do, that the journey is the most important part, because, in the spiritual life, where we end up is what should take the most import in our lives.  Still, the pilgrimage to Christmas, the pilgrimage to the cave where Christ was born, also is weighty and substantial.  We cannot skip over Advent, especially if we hope to truly appreciate Christmas and its meaning in the salvation of the world, and the salvation of our hearts.
    So what are you doing during Advent to get ready for the Nativity of the Lord at Christmas?  What steps are you taking to make sure that you’ll be ready when you get there?  I mean, imagine if I simply bought my ticket to Sydney, and got on the plane, without any planning, without any luggage, without any passport.  I would not have made it that far.  And even if I brought simply my passport, if I didn’t have clean clothes and toiletries, I don’t think I could have enjoyed the company of even my brother priests.  Or if my clothes that I brought were only reflective of the 8 1/2 inches of snow that we got the first day I tried to leave, rather than the 70-80 degree sunny days that were happening in Sydney, I would not have enjoyed such an exotic vacation getaway. 
    What doesn’t count for preparing for Christmas is listening to Christmas music and attending Christmas parties.  Those things aren’t necessarily bad (I’ll be honest, I’m listening to Christmas music in my car now that Thanksgiving has passed), but they don’t really prepare us to celebrate Christmas, even if it is Bing Crosby singing “O Come, All Ye Faithful,” or Nat King Cole singing “O Little Town of Bethlehem.”  Our preparations have to involve our soul if we want to reap the benefits of the beautiful, and yet short, season of Advent.
    So are you praying daily?  The little blue books, or the Bishop Barron daily Advent reflections that are on our parish website can assist us in daily prayer.  Maybe it’s just 5 minutes each day, or maybe adding on another 5 minutes if we already pray daily, but whatever it is, make sure you’re taking time to talk and listen to God.  In particular, I would invite you pray for someone who is not practicing their faith.  Pray for them daily, specifically, with the intention that, by God’s grace, they are brought back to the faith.  And, if possible, invite them to join you for the fourth Sunday of Advent here at St. Pius X (hopefully you could also bring them with you to confession to prepare for the Mass). 
    If you are able, add adoration time to your schedule.  We offer adoration here almost every Friday from 7-8 a.m., and on the third Friday from 8:45 a.m. to 2:45 p.m.  It doesn’t have to be for the whole hour, or the whole day, but stop in and see Jesus, present in the Most Holy Sacrament of the Eucharist, and adore your God who took flesh to save you, even if all you can give God is fifteen minutes before you go to work or during your lunch break.
    Read Scripture.  This year we’re walking through the Gospel according to St. Matthew.  There are 28 chapters in that Gospel, and 24 days of Advent, so you can almost make it through the entire Gospel simply by reading one chapter per day.  St. John reminds us that, “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.”  Familiarize yourself with that Word, Jesus, the co-eternal Word of God who was incarnate of the Virgin Mary. 
    Give alms.  Alms, of course, is money that we donate to the poor, or to the Church.  Scripture tells us that almsgiving atones for sins that we committed.  When we take from what is precious to us, our money, and give it to someone else who needs it, whether the poor who need it for their survival, or the church so that people can find eternal life, we show that same love that Jesus had for us when He, who was rich as God, became poor by taking on our humanity and becoming subject to all things like us, though without sin.  It’s not so much about the amount (remember that the widow who gave two small coins was praised, not for the great amount, but because it was what she had, what she treasured). 
    I hope you noticed that none of those things is that complicated.  You don’t need a degree in theology; you don’t have to traverse to the farthest corners of the world.  You don’t have to take yourself to the brink of death.  In those simple ways, you can make sure that you’re ready to celebrate the Nativity of Jesus Christ at Christmas.  Don’t let this sacred time pass you by, which it so easily does when we’re not prepared.  Don’t arrive at Christmas without the proper preparation.  Christmas will be here before you know it!

History is Going Somewhere

First Sunday of Advent

If you asked a seminarian for a description of Hell, he would likely say that Hell would be remaining in seminary forever.  Don’t get me wrong, seminary is a great place, and were some of the best eight years of my life (four in college, four in theology), but it had a goal: ordination to the priesthood.  Of course, there’s no way to teach us all the things we’ll need to know in seminary, but if they kept us until we knew everything we needed, we’d never become priests; we’d be seminarians forever; which would be Hell.

It think sometimes we forget that history has a goal.  History is not aimlessly meandering throughout the centuries and millennia.  History is proceeding to the final judgement.  History is going towards Jesus.  And our goal, as Catholics, is to make sure that we’re on the right side of history.  

History for the Jews was going towards Jesus, their long-awaited Messiah.  Jeremiah speaks the Lord’s message that God was going to “raise up for David a just shoot.”  God was going to fulfill His promise that a son of David would sit on the throne of Israel forever, and that promise was fulfilled in Jesus.  Of course, the Jews do not recognize Jesus as the Messiah, but He is the Messiah, and proved it throughout the Gospels .  

For us as Catholics, as the fulfillment of Judaism and  even the Gentiles (those who were joined to Judaism who were not originally part of the Chosen People), our goal is to remain faithful to Jesus the Messiah until He returns to judge the living and the dead.  St. Paul reminds us that we know how to conduct ourselves as pleasing to God, through the instructions that St. Paul gave us.  And not just St. Paul, but the apostles, joined in union with St. Peter and his successors, the popes, who are called to authentically teach us how to live out our faith, and how to follow Jesus in new times and places.  

Jesus Himself reminds us in the Gospel not to become drowsy from immoral behavior and the daily grind of life.  Instead, we are to be vigilant, waiting for that culmination of human history in the return of the Messiah who, at the end of time, will bring to fulfillment the victory He won on the cross.

And this season of Advent is our reminder to be ready, and to keep ourselves on the right side of history.  Advent is the time when, as the days grow darker, we focus more intently on the Light of the World that is Jesus.  Nations will be in dismay because they are not faithful to the teachings of Jesus.  The ending of the world will cause non-believers to fear because they will be on the wrong side of history and their days of power and control will come to an end.  Those who follow Jesus will “‘stand erect and raise [their] heads because [their] redemption is at hand.’”

What will remain?  Jesus and all that is in Him and His Mystical Body, the Church.  What will pass away?  Everything that is contrary to Jesus and His Mystical Body, the Church.  Sadly, we tend to see things more in a political view than in a Gospel view.  We give allegiance to this or that political group, but not as much to Jesus and His Church.  The Gospel and the unbroken teaching of the Church tell us that we cannot support abortion, artificial contraception, homosexual activity, and the philosophy that we can determine our gender independent of the way God has created our bodies.  Of course, to our American ears that sounds like I’m attacking women and diversity and the Democratic party.  And certainly, we are called to love those who try to promote or get an abortion, those who engage in homosexual acts, and those who are confused about their gender.  But at the same time that we love them we cannot endorse their actions.  The Gospel and the unbroken teaching of the Church also tell us that we have an obligation to assist the poor, especially those who cannot care for themselves, and to care for the stranger, the alien, and those in prison, to strive for just working conditions and a fare wage.  Of course, to our American ears that sounds like I’m supporting laziness, like I don’t care about national security, and am in the pockets of the unions, and attacking the Republican party.  But God the Father doesn’t call us to be part of a political party.  He calls us to follow Jesus with all that it entails, which cannot be entirely encompassed by one political party (at least not one that I’ve seen).  We can have strong borders, encourage others to work, and make sure that employees are not taken advantage of for profit.  But we also have to make sure that we are treating all people with human dignity, no matter what their circumstance in life.

Our goal is to advance our life and the lives of those around us, towards Christ, following what He teaches in its fulness, not picking and choosing the parts we like.  Our goal is to be part of the trajectory of history that is going towards Jesus, committed to Him entirely, not committed to other groups or ideologies before Jesus.  During this Advent, let’s recommit ourselves to moving towards the goal of history, towards Jesus, and avoiding being on the wrong side of the judgement of Christ.