God Chooses Hobbits

Fourth Sunday of Advent

            I have now seen “The Hobbit” two times since it’s release on Friday.  While there have been a number of criticisms, I found myself enjoying the movie and its presentation of the classic book by J.R.R. Tolkien.  Certainly some license was taken; that always happens with movies.

            At one point, as the dwarves are discussing the drawbacks to having a burglar who has never burgled before, Gandalf mentions that Smaug, the evil dragon, will not recognize the smell of a Hobbit like he will of a dwarf.  Plus, Gandalf mentions, the Hobbit is small and will not attract much attention. 

            Now, it’s no secret that Tolkien was a Catholic.  He was a very devout Catholic.  And he permeated his writing with a Catholic worldview and Catholic theology.  I don’t know if he meant to compare Gandalf with God (in fact, I think scholars relate the wizards more to archangels), but we see in our readings today that God also uses the small to accomplish his work, those who will not attract much attention.

            Our first reading mentions the smallness of the city of Bethlehem of the Tribe of Judah.  It is too small to “be among the clans of Judah,” and yet “from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel; whose origin is from of old, from ancient times.”  God doesn’t choose the large city of Jerusalem to bring forth the Messiah, but the little town of Bethlehem.

            And in choosing Mary to be the Mother of God, it is not a famous personage, or a grand queen in the secular sense, but a quiet, humble maiden in a small, quiet town.  And in the Gospel passage today where we hear about the Visitation of the Blessed Mother to her cousin Elizabeth, it is two, small people, not noticed by the world, who recognize the coming, the Advent, of the Messiah.  In fact, even the littlest one, St. John the Baptist in the womb of his mother, leaps for joy in the presence of the God whom John will later point out as the Lamb of God.

            How much does our society tell us that we shouldn’t be small and unnoticed.  We have TV shows whose aim it is to take people from being unknown to being stars of music.  YouTube is full of people, including, sadly, children, who do stupid stuff just to get their 15 minutes of fame.  So many of us desire to be “big time.”  We want to be famous and well known.  The more Facebook friends or followers on Twitter we have, the better.

            In the midst of this, God doesn’t say that it’s wrong to be well known.  But He wants to make us well known, rather than us try to slingshot our way into notoriety.  Bethlehem wasn’t waging a campaign like, “Who Wants to be the City of the Messiah.”  Mary did not try to posture so that she could be the one that God chose as the Mother of the Messiah.  It was all about simply doing the will of God, and letting God make them known.

            In fact, Mary knows that she will be very well known.  After this passage, she prays the words that the Church has echoed down throughout the ages: “From this day all generations will call me blessed.”  But why will Mary be blessed?  Because “the Almighty has done great things for me, and holy is His Name.”  God is the agent of Mary’s blessing and notoriety.  And the same has happened with so many of the saints.

            Look at our first pope, St. Peter: I’m quite sure that, sitting in his boat on the Sea of Galilee, he wasn’t dreaming of leading the disciples of the Messiah and being the one to speak for Christ in a unique way.  Or St. Augustine of Hippo in the 5^th Century: as a believer in two powers, one of good, one of evil, in his youth, the last thing he had on his mind was being one of the most prolific theologians the Catholic Church has ever seen.  Or St. Thomas Aquinas: in writing his Summary of Theology for beginners, his Summa Theologiae, he probably never dreamed that a later pope would require his teaching to be part of the curriculum in Catholic seminaries.  Or St. Kateri Tekakwitha: as she was exiled from her New York village of Native Americans because she had embraced the Catholic faith, she probably never dreamed that centuries later she would be added to the list of saints who called America their home.  Or Bl. Teresa of Calcutta: I’m sure that as she was picking up dying people with rotting bodies in India she did not anticipate the fame she would have while still alive, let alone after her death.  Or even those still working on being saints, like Pope Benedict XVI, or Timothy Cardinal Dolan or Francis Cardinal George: in the small towns in which they grew up, I’m willing to bet that none of them dreamed of having the large responsibility in governing the Church that God has given them today. 

            It is not for us to work on being famous, or being well known.  We are called to be faithful to God and serve Him by serving His People with the gifts and talents that God has given to us.  If we do that, then we will be known by the only Persons who really matter: the Persons of the Blessed Trinity.  And if God recognizes us because we have configured our life to the image of His Son, then we will join the ranks of the truly famous, the lives truly worth celebrating, the lives of the saints.  

"Little Baby Jesus" ~Ricky Bobby

Epiphany of the Lord

            Just a few weeks ago the trailer for “The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey” was released.  As a big “Lord of the Rings” fan, both the books and the movies, I was pretty excited.  It looks to be a good movie telling the first half of the tale of Bilbo Baggins’ adventure.  Still, there’s always a little awkwardness that can come when, if you’ve read the books, you picture characters looking a certain way, and then on the screen the actors with all their makeup look different than you pictured.

            Today, as we celebrate the Epiphany of the Lord, we celebrate Jesus showing Himself forth to the nations, the Gentiles, the non-Jews, represented in the three magi who came from the east.  The very word epiphany could be translated as “showing forth.”  And, in fact, the Solemnity of the Epiphany has, historically, celebrated the three manifestations of Jesus: to the magi, at His baptism, and at the wedding of Cana, where Jesus, in three different ways at different times, made Himself known to others. 

            But, sticking with the Gospel passage we have today, I wonder if the magi saw what they expected.  They told King Herod that they were traveling to see the “newborn king of the Jews.”  So when they showed up at the home of Joseph and Mary, and saw a little boy, living in humble circumstances, I wonder if they were taken aback.  As they were offering their precious gifts: gold for a king, frankincense for a deity, and myrrh for a rich burial, I wonder what they thought of this little boy.

            We, of course, have ways that we like to think of Jesus.  Maybe we’re like Ricky Bobby from “Talladega Nights,” and we like to think of our Lord as “little baby Jesus.”  Or maybe when we picture Jesus we think of a king in royal robes and a crown.  Perhaps we think of Jesus as a poor, itinerant preacher, a radical of His own day.  Or maybe we see Jesus as a strong carpenter.  Or when we think of Jesus, maybe we always see Him on the cross.  In whatever way we like to think of Jesus, it is still the case that Jesus continues to surprise us by his presence.

            For some, Jesus surprises them by being present today in his brothers and sisters: in the poor begging on the corner; in our family members, especially the ones that we want to avoid; in the terminally ill; in the elderly; in those with a same-sex attraction, or in broken marriages.  And yet, Jesus still makes Himself present in these people, who have inherent goodness because they are human persons, created in the image and likeness of God, who, no matter what good or bad choices they have made, still deserve our love and can still manifest Christ, even if it’s harder to see at times.  In these manifestations, Jesus continues to make Himself known, and we still are called to care for Him who lays hidden beneath those human frailties. 

The life of St. Martin of Tours, whom the Church celebrates on November 11^th, bares this out in a very clear way.  St. Martin was a soldier, and he was riding his horse in the cold winter.  Along the road was a poor man who barely had any clothes on and was freezing.  Martin cut his cloak in two with his sword, and gave half to that poor man so that he could warm, even if just a little.  That night, St. Martin had a vision of Jesus wearing that cloak, and realized what Jesus meant when, in Matthew 25, He said, “What you did for the least of my brothers and sisters you did for me.”

In our own times, there are a number of people, maybe right here in our own parish, who struggle to see Jesus manifest Himself through His Mystical Body, the Church.  And certainly, some members of the Church don’t always make it easy to see Christ in the Church.  We certainly are a corpus permixtum, as St. Augustine of Hippo calls us, a group made up of both sinners and saints.  And yet, in a mysterious way, the Church is the mystical and immaculate Body of Christ, without sin, and communicating the fruits of Christ’s own redeeming life to those who cling to it.  As Timothy Cardinal Dolan has said on many occasions, “Christ and his Church are one.”  You cannot have one without the other, period.  Or, to quote the Catechism, which quotes St. Cyprian of Carthage, “No one can have God as Father who does not have the Church as Mother.”

How often do we hear the phrase, again, sometimes from Catholics, “I’m spiritual, but not religious”?  Or, “I have a great relationship with Jesus, but I don’t want to mess it up by getting other people involved.”  When Jesus manifests Himself, even today, He does so always with His Mystical Body, the Church, and never apart from her.  To quote the great Vatican II theologian, Henri de Lubac, “For what would I ever know of him, without her?” 

Does this mean that everyone who represents the Church is always perfect and always right?  Certainly not.  Does this mean that we should never struggle with some of the teachings of the Church on matters of faith and morals?  Some people do struggle with what the Church teaches, seeking to understand what the Church has defined as belonging to the deposit of faith.  But, when it comes to matters of faith and morals, we can know that when the Church acts, it is Jesus acting through her, whether it’s on the Church’s teaching on abortion, contraception, the preferential option for the poor, marriage, who Christ is, who the Church is, and down the line.  We may not have been expecting to see Christ in that way, but just because we do not expect Christ to be shown forth in that way does not mean it is not Christ.  Maybe instead of wanting the Church to change to fit our desires, we need to change our desires to fit with the Church.

Jesus continues to manifest Himself to us, as He did to the magi 2,000 years ago.  As He likely shocked the magi then, sometimes He may shock us in His manifestation.  The question for us is whether, like the magi, we will choose to lay down what is precious for us: our time, our treasure, and our assent of the will in faith.  I would suggest that, for many of us, money and an independent will are the two things which are most precious to us.  Will we lay them down at the feet of Jesus Christ as He manifests Himself to us in the marginalized and in His Mystical Body, the Church?