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.  

Izzone? How about Godzone?

Third Sunday of Lent

            For what are we zealous?  We heard in our Gospel today that, when Jesus was throwing out the moneychangers and those who sold oxen, sheep, and doves, his disciples recalled the words of Psalm 69, “Zeal for your house will consume me.”  The abuse of the sacred house of God made Jesus zealous.  What makes us zealous?

            As I thought about a more modern example of what ignites zeal in the hearts of people, the first thing that came to mind was the Izzone.  I have been very blessed this year to be able to attend a handful of games at the Breslin Center to watch the Spartan men play basketball.  And at every game there was the ring of the Izzone, supporting their team, and ensuring future business for audiologists in the greater-Lansing area. 

            Those students who make up the Izzone are zealous.  They are zealous about the Spartan men’s basketball team.  They know each player by name and face, and loudly cheer them on when they make a clutch 3-point shot, get an “and-one” call, or have a nice ally-oop or dunk to show off MSU swag.  They cry foul when they are convinced that one of the players is being hacked on his way up for a lay-up, but the official does not see or call the foul.  Their hearts are set on one thing alone: helping MSU to win by cheering them on to victory.

            Do we have the same zeal for this sacred place as the Izzone has for the men’s basketball team?  Are our hearts as focused while we are here on entering into the Mass with our hearts, minds, and voices, as the students are on entering into the rites of basketball?  Now, let me be clear: I’m not advocating that any of the men start coming to Mass shirtless with a big, green cross painted on their chest.  I’m not advocating that we get a jumbotron to show me coming out of the sacristy, as the crowd cheers loudly and music plays.  I’m not advocating that when we have a guest presider from outside the parish, the assembly responds: “Who cares?”  And certainly some of the language that certain members of the Izzone use is inappropriate for Church, let alone in regular polite conversation.

            Are we zealous for this sacred space and this sacred time?  But notice, St. John the Evangelist, our beloved patron, also says that Jesus talks not so much about the stone and mortar that held the temple in Jerusalem together, but about His body.  So our zeal cannot be limited to this physical space, as important as it is that we set aside certain places for the worship of God.  We must be zealous for Jesus and His Body.

            We talk about Jesus’ Body usually in two ways: His People and His Church.  St. Paul calls us individual members of the Mystical Body of Christ.  And so our zeal has to be for each other: for supporting each other in tough times; for educating each other in the teachings of Jesus; for lifting up each other in prayer.  If you are a student, do you give of your time, as precious as it is, to help others with a class that maybe is harder for one than it is for another?  Do you invite others, whom you know are Catholic, to come to Mass with you?  Do you spend time with the less socially adept students to support them and make them feel loved and a part of this community?  Do you stand up for each other when others are using a particular person as an emotional punching bag?  Do you help to keep each other away from illegal activity, and social events that can be harmful because there is drug or alcohol abuse, or sexual or violent crimes that could easily take place?  Of course, this also goes for non-students as well, but in the workplace and with friends rather than on campus.  Are we zealous for each other, helping to build each other up in virtue and support each other in living a holy life, focusing our minds, hearts, and souls on God in all we do, not just in the time we spend here at Mass?

            Our zeal also has to be for the Mystical Body of Christ, the Church.  Are we zealous in learning what and why our Church teaches what it does, or are we happy having the knowledge of our faith comparable with a fifth-grader?  It always saddens me that, after confirmation, so many think and act as if they’re done with learning about what the Church teaches about the Trinity, the Sacraments, Scripture, morality, and so much more.  There’s an old adage: you can’t give what you don’t have, and the reality is that if we don’t have a mature, adult understanding of the faith, then we can’t pass on that faith to the next generation, and allow them to share in the joy of knowing Jesus Christ while on earth, so that they are prepared to rejoice with Him forever in heaven.  And if we don’t know the faith, then we can’t live the faith. 

            We are engaged in a battle against the world, the flesh, and the devil.  All three of those would love to see us stay infants in the faith.  All three would love to have us be ignorant and keep our religion to ourselves, except for when we go to Church on Sunday.  That way, when good is called bad, and virtue called vice, we don’t know enough and we don’t care enough to take a stand and push back against the powers of the world, the flesh, and the devil and stand up for what is true, not just for Christians, but for all people, since truth is, by its very nature, true for all, not just for some.

            I have never been a doomsday prophet.  I have never wanted to see or say that the Catholic Church is being besieged.  For most of my life, I have felt that we could engage in dialogue with the culture, and that we could live in peace in the world.  But when we are openly mocked in ways that are never acceptable for any other religious group for the teaching of Jesus through His Church; when our defense of the teachings of our faith in public is called bigotry and hate speech; when we are told to reject our consciences as the price we pay to live in a democratic society, then I must sound the warning.  If the current trends continue as regards the treatment of the Catholic Church, both her institutions and her people, then ours will once more be a Church of the Catacombs.  Ours will be a persecuted Church.  As His Eminence, Francis Cardinal George, the Archbishop of Chicago has been quoted recently, “I expect to die in bed.  I expect my successor to die in jail.  I expect his successor to die as a martyr in the public square.”  And for those who do not have zeal for Jesus, the cost will be too much.  And if forced to choose between Jesus and getting by, they will get by, while also endangering their eternal salvation.

            Do we have zeal for Jesus?  Do we have zeal for supporting each other, especially the household of God, to grow in knowledge and love of Jesus?  Do we have zeal for standing up for the teachings of Jesus through His Church?  Wouldn’t it be a blessing if, when we stand united to defend each other and the beliefs that Jesus handed on to us through His apostles in public, others would think of Psalm 69 when they see us and say, Zeal for your house will consume me?