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.] 

Being the Best Man

Third Sunday of Advent

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Today we are reintroduced to the person of St. John the Baptist.  We often do with the Precursor what we tend to do with other saintly personalities that startle us: we try to domesticate them.  We quickly skim over the more radical parts of their personalities and messages, and we go to the parts with which we are more comfortable and familiar.  With John, we may soften his facial features, and have him gently pointing out the Lamb of God along the Jordan River. 
    But a person who ate locusts and wild honey probably didn’t have the best complexion.  And I can’t imagine camel-hair clothing being all that fashionable, even back them.  John says that he fulfills the prophecy of Isaiah, to make straight the way for the Lord.  But as he does so, he calls out the Pharisees and scribes, and calls them a brood of vipers.  He prophesies to the religious leaders that any tree that does not bear fruit will be chopped down at its roots, and that God will burn the chaff, the useless bits of the harvest, “with unquenchable fire.”  John was not a wilting lily, but, in his own way, an extremist, who wasn’t afraid to call out those who needed to repent.
    But a later passage from the Gospel according to John, from whose Gospel we heard today, has St. John the Baptist also saying, “‘The one who has the bride is the bridegroom; the best man, who stands and listens to him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom’s voice.  So this joy of mine has been made complete.  He must increase; I must decrease.’”  And since the liturgy wants us to rejoice on this Gaudete Sunday, this Sunday that our introit and epistle both center on rejoicing, it’s also important to meditate on the joy of hearing the voice of the bridegroom.
    When it comes to the image the Forerunner uses, that of a wedding party, we should make sure we have each character rightly understood.  The Bridegroom is Christ.  The bride is the Church.  This image can be difficult for guys, as we don’t think of ourselves as brides.  A bride is an altogether feminine image, and we men don’t readily attribute to ourselves femininity, which is proper to women.  But, it’s the flip side of the coin that we are all united and participate in the Son of God through baptism, which is a more difficult image for women, who probably don’t think of themselves in the masculine reality of being a son.  Still, as members of the Church, we are Christ’s bride, the one for whom He gives His life, His top priority and greatest love. 
    Because of the Incarnation, the Divine Bridegroom has connected us to Himself.  By His Passion He paid the price to free us from the dominion of sin and death, and liberate us into the free and elevating spousal union.  And this is certainly a reason to rejoice.  Of course, this Sunday we rejoice because we are more than halfway to the celebration to Christmas (in fact, this year, we only have 8 more days until Christmas).  But we rejoice because we will soon rejoice even more in the celebration of the fulfillment of all the Old Testament prophecies where God promised to send us a redeemer.  And living in this post-Incarnation time, we rejoice that we are the bride of Christ, united to Him through Holy Baptism so that we can reign with Him forever if we stay united to Him throughout our life.
    But, in another image that may be more difficult for women, we are also the best man.  Yes, that term specifically refers to St. John the Baptist, but it can also refer to us, because we also are supposed to stand at attention for His return, and listen for His voice.  And when we hear that voice, it causes joy because our role as best man is to help the groom prepare for his wedding feast where he takes a bride for himself.  God calls us, as He called St. John the Baptist, to be ready and listen for how God reveals Himself, so that we can point Him out when we notice Him. 
    This is part of how we live as those who evangelize.  We should constantly keep our ears and eyes attuned to the working of God, not only in our own life and in the life of our family, but also in the lives of those whom we daily encounter.  We should be ready to point out to people how we see God working in their lives.  Do we have the courage to help others see how God works in their lives?  Can we recognize how God works? 
    In that way, we are all supposed to be like Precursor of the Lord.  Whether it is helping others through turmoil and difficulty because of their lack of the Lord, or when we experience what many call a “God-moment” where we sense that God has just done something, part of our mission as disciples is to point out God working in other lives so that it leads to deeper faith.  So often we can go through life just presuming that everything is a result of our actions and choices.  It can be so easy to live like a deist, who believes that God exists but that He doesn’t really interact with our world, He just lets us do our own thing while He watches from afar.  But we are not deists.  We are Incarnationalists.  We believe that God took flesh because He wanted to, ever more closely, interact with us and draw us to Himself.  And while Christ our Incarnate Lord did ascend into the heavens, He promised not to leave us orphans, but to send the Holy Spirit to continue His work and to lead us into all truth.  And that Holy Spirit is alive and powerful and can work great things through us, if we let Him.  And when we see that work of the Holy Spirit, we can be like Buddy the Elf, who, upon learning that Santa is coming to the mall says, “I know him!” 

    We should not domesticate St. John the Baptist because it domesticates our vocation to point out the Lamb of God in our daily lives.  And the domestication of that vocation means that we don’t bother to point out the Lamb because we are afraid, or we don’t think others want to know Him, or maybe even that we want to keep the Lamb to ourselves.  But if we wish to rejoice, and if we wish others to rejoice, then we must stand attentive to the voice of the Bridegroom, prepare the way of the Lord, and point Him out when He comes: Jesus, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit is God 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 Can We Rejoice?

***Please Note: This Homily was given off-the-cuff, 

and the text below represents my best attempt reconstruct what was said***

Third Sunday of Advent

            Most people know that I like to prepare my homilies and have a text in front of me when I preach.  It helps keep me from going off on tangents, which I like to do.  I prepared my homily on Friday morning, and, as I stand here now, the one I wrote doesn’t seem to work well.

            Our Mass today focuses us on joy.  It’s called Gaudete Sunday, which means joy.  We light the rose (not pink!) candle, and I’m wearing a rose vestment to represent the fact that we’re more than half way to our celebration of Christmas.  Listen again to our first reading: “Shout for joy, O daughter Zion!  Sing joyfully, O Israel!  […] The Lord, your God…will rejoice over you with gladness…he will sing joyfully because of you as one sings at festivals.”  Our psalm for today continues: “Cry out with joy and gladness,” in the response, and the verse includes, “With joy you will draw water at the fountain of salvation.”    St. Paul takes up the same word in our second reading from his letter to the Philippians: “Rejoice in the Lord always.  I shall say it again: rejoice!” 

            And yet, with all that has happened in the past week, we might wonder what there is to rejoice about.  This past week I had the honor, though it was not an honor that I would have wanted, to concelebrate the funeral of a 49-year-old man who succumbed to cancer, and who leaves behind a widow and five children.  And then on Friday we learned about the shooting of young children in Connecticut.  Perhaps some of you have had your own personal sorrows during this past week, and we’ve all certainly had some in the past month or year.

            So at a time like this, how can the Church tell us to rejoice?  How dare the Church tell us to rejoice!  But we do rejoice.  We rejoice because we are closer to celebrating the birth of Jesus, the light of the world.  We rejoice because Christ is like the light of that rose candle, in the midst of the darkness of the world, and in the darkness with is so thick you can almost feel it, Jesus says to us, “Do not be afraid.  Follow me.”  We rejoice because we are more than halfway to our celebration of Christmas, and because with each passing day, we are one day closer to Christ coming again, to bring the fullness of His Kingdom, where there will be no more death, no more sorrow, no more tears, no more sin. 

            We rejoice even in the midst of death because of Jesus who said, “I am the resurrection and the life.  Whoever believes in me will never die.”    We rejoice because our God loves us so much that He does not abandon us in our pain and our mourning.  We rejoice because our God came among us and wept at the death of His friend, Lazarus, just as He weeps now at the senseless violence.  We rejoice because our God loves us so much that He gives Himself to us, to become one with us, in the Eucharist, so that we can touch our God.  Our God loves us so much that He allows us to hear Him in His Word. 

            If our joy is in this world, then it is not a time of rejoicing.  But if our joy is in Jesus, than we can rejoice.  We rejoice because our wait is almost over; our King is coming and will not delay; the day of our salvation is at hand.  

Still Waiting

Third Sunday of Advent

            A few weeks ago I went to Rome on pilgrimage as a way of giving thanks to God for ordaining me a priest.  I had arranged all my travel, and was waiting at the airport for a driver to pick me up and take me into the City and to my hotel.  My flight had arrived on time; I had picked up all my baggage; I walked out ready to see a man holding a sign saying “Fr. Anthony Strouse.”  But no so much man was there.  So I waited.  And I waited.  And as I waited I started to go through all the scenarios that could be occurring, and wondering if I needed to make other plans.

An icon of St. John the Baptist from a
monastery in Israel

            That’s sort of where we find St. John the Baptist in today’s Gospel.  He has been proclaiming repentance to prepare people to receive the Messiah, he had pointed out the Messiah as the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world, and he had even baptized the Messiah.  And then Jesus started preaching.  And then John got arrested.

            And you can imagine the puzzle that John’s mind was trying to figure out as he sat in jail, wondering if his cousin, Jesus, was really the Messiah.  Was this the way that God rewarded his prophets, by letting them sit in jail?  Surely something must be wrong.  And so he sends a few of his disciples to ask that coy question: “‘Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?’”  In other words, John is wondering if he bet on the right horse.

            Today as a Church we celebrate Gaudete Sunday, or Rejoice Sunday.  We light the rose candle because we are almost done with Advent.  The darkness of the purple lightens up to a rose color because of our joy, but our joy is not yet filled, we are not yet to the white of Christmas.  We are in a similar place as John the Baptist was in our Gospel.  We have joy, as did John because he had pointed out the Messiah, but we’re not there yet, we’re not to the fullness of the joy of Christmas, just as John wasn’t to the fullness of the reign of the Messiah.

            But this also applies to us as Catholics awaiting the Lord to come again in glory.  We are filled with joy because He has already conquered sin and death by His death and resurrection.  We know that a new kingdom, a kingdom of love and truth, justice and mercy, is being established, and has been prepared for us.  But we’re not experiencing it yet.  We are sitting in the darkness of our fallen world, and we can wonder if Christ is truly going to come again.  And if you’re a high school or college student, you are hoping that Christ will come again very soon, so all the stress of finals and exams will be over.  We are wondering if we have bet on the right horse.  We are wondering if all these stories, which we have heard about Jesus, are true, or if they were just nice stories created to keep us in line.

            That is why the Church today also gives us as a second reading the letter from the apostle James.  That is when James tells us: “Be patient, brothers and sisters, until the coming of the Lord.  See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains…Make your hearts firm, because the coming of the Lord is at hand.”  How fitting the metaphor is for a university that began as an Agricultural College!  We, like the farmer, may not see the seeds opening up under the earth and starting to sprout, especially with the winter snow on top of the earth, but in the spring, if we have patience and give the seed time to grow, we will see the shoot sprout from the earth and bring us the beauty of the flower. 

            The temptation to doubt the promises that Christ made happen easy enough.  When we are praying for something that we feel we need, either for ourselves or for someone else: for some material good; for healing; for family peace and harmony; for a good grade on an exam.  All these things are good and yet so often our prayers are not answered the way we would like them to be.  It leads us to wonder if this is really the good Lord that we were told about when we were younger, or if that was just a story to help us through the tough times.

            These prayers that are not answered as we hoped can often lead us to wonder, like St. John the Baptist, if we have not all been deceived.  But just as my driver did arrive after a not-too-long wait, and just as Isaiah promised in our first reading that “Those whom the Lord has ransomed will…enter Zion singing, crowned with everlasting joy,” so too will we, if we are patient and wait with fidelity for the Lord, shall share in the same heaven that St. John the Baptist won by his martyrdom for Christ, and which God has prepared for all of his faithful children.  When we put our trust in God, we realize that He actually knows what we need better than we know ourselves.  And so when we don’t get that special gift for Christmas; when someone very near to us does not recuperate from an illness; when our families still struggle with division and anger; when we didn’t get that A on the final or that we had prayed for, still, we are patient and wait to see how God will manifest His great love to us in a way that, more often than not, far surpasses the meager joys for which we had prayed. 

So rejoice and be glad!  God does love you and is answering your prayers in greater way that we expect, even if it doesn’t come exactly how or when we expect it.  Rejoice and be glad!  Christmas is almost here.  Rejoice and be glad!  Your Lord is coming and will not delay.