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].

Same Event, Different Experience

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

    It was fun last Sunday to see the Detroit Lions dominate the game offensively.  No matter what Washington did, they could not seem to stop Detroit’s offense, with the worst results for most of the drives of the game being a field goal and only three points rather than the usual seven points for a touchdown and extra point.  After some rough games this season, it was good to see a strong Lions team again.
    But imagine for a second that you were cheering for the Commanders.  Sunday was not a day you really wanted to remember.  The things that made it so great for the Lions made it pretty horrible for the Commanders.  In any contest, what is good news for one is bad news for the other.
    In this penultimate Sunday in Ordinary Time before we begin Advent, our readings focus us on the end of time.  And the Prophet Malachi, in particular, presents us with this idea that the same event, the day of the Lord, will be bad for some, but great for others.  For some it will be a day of pain and suffering, with the proud and the evildoers burning up like stubble in a field.  For those who fear the name of the Lord, the sun (s-u-n) of justice will heal with its rays.  As Catholics we know that Christ is the true Sun of Justice because He is the Son (s-o-n) of God and Son of Man.  We look for the same event, Christ’s return in glory, but it will not seem the same for everyone.  For some it will appear as a day of joy, for others a day of wailing and gnashing of teeth.
    When we come to this time of year, the Church traditionally puts before us, as she did at every funeral in the old rite, the hymn Dies Irae.  The title means “Day of Wrath.”  And the first verses focus on what the return of Christ will be like for evildoers:
 

Day of watch and doom impending!
David’s word with Sibyl’s blending,
Heaven and earth in ashes ending!

Oh, what fear man’s bosom renders,
When from heaven the Judge descendeth,
On whose sentence all dependeth.

That certainly gives us a wake-up call for what the end could be like if we do not give our hearts over to God and open ourselves to His grace which transforms us.  
    But, it continues:

Faint and weary, Thou hast sought me,
On the Cross of suffering bought me.
Shall such grace be vainly brought me?…

Guilty, now I pour my moaning,
All my shame with anguish owning;
Spare, O God, Thy suppliant groaning!

Through the sinful woman shriven,
Through the dying thief forgiven,
Thou to me a hope hast given.

With Thy sheep a place provide me,
From the goats afar divide me,
To Thy right hand do Thou guide me….

Lord, all-pitying, Jesus blest,
Grant them Thine eternal rest.
Amen.

While not pretending to be blameless, the return of Christ for those who love the Lord means a time of salvation and the rectification of all that evil has ruined, so that the souls of the just can have eternal rest.
    The key, then, is what team we are on?  Not Team Edward or Team Jacob (you’re welcome, “Twilight” fans), but Dies irae-Day of wrath or spem dedisti–a hope given.  Because the end will mean suffering.  Our Lord outlines the things that will precede the end: wars, insurrections, powerful earthquakes, famines, plagues, and persecution of the followers of Christ.  Those who work against Christ will think that they have won.  They will try to get Christ’s faithful to abandon their virtue, to abandon Christ, and will offer apparent ways out of the tribulations that may even mean less or even no suffering in the short terms.  But for those who remain faithful to Christ, who persevere, the time of sorrow and suffering will lead to a day of hope and victory in Christ, who will reward those who remained true even when turning away seemed easier and more enjoyable.  
    [Ava & Wade: you are choosing to follow Christ today, and Christ receives you as His catechumen.  This means that Christ already recognizes you as a follower, even if you have not yet become part of Him through Holy Baptism.  You are abandoning the logic of the world, the flesh, and the devil, and striving to live according to the logic of the Logos, the Divine Word, who helps us understand how God has truly created the world.  You are choosing hope in place of wrath, and for that we give thanks to God and promise you our prayers.]
    The end comes, seemingly ever faster.  We find ourselves closer to the return of Christ in glory today than we were yesterday.  This time of year reminds us to take stock of our choices, which do not only have consequences in time, but have consequences into eternity.  Christ will return in glory, and how we view that day will depend on how we lived each day before that: for or against Christ.  May the words of Dies Irae apply to us as the just so that, “When the wicked are confounded, / Doomed to flames of woe unbounded, / Call me with Thy saints surrounded.”

Darkness and Light

First Sunday of Advent
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]  I don’t know about you, but during these winter days, I feel like it’s ten o’clock at night, based upon how dark it is outside, and then look at my watch and it’s only 7 p.m.  Others will mention how they long for the season when they don’t both go to work and return home in the dark.  

    Darkness is, however, a natural theme of Advent.  Not darkness for its own sake, but how the birth of Christ scattered the darkness.  We see it in the candles on our Advent wreath.  We will see it especially during our Rorate Coeli Mass on Saturday, which is held entirely in candlelight and with the growing light of the dawn.  Zechariah, the husband of St. Elizabeth and father of St. John the Baptist, notes in his canticle, that “the dawn from on high shall break upon us,” prophesying Christ as the light that makes the darkness flee away.
    And yet, our Lord’s words in the Gospel today may seem a bit dark.  He says that “on earth, nations will be in dismay….People will die of fright in anticipation of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken.”  Talk about dark.  Just as the light of prophecy ceased some hundreds of years before Christ came as an infant at Bethlehem, so the preparation for His return in glory will be a dark time with much tribulation.  Perhaps, whether for us as individuals, or even the way the world seems to be going now, we can identify, maybe not with dying of fright, but with a darkness that seems to have swept over much of the world, and even, in some ways, into the Church itself.
    I don’t know when the end will come, but it is coming, and that is a large part of what the Church prepares us for in Advent.  Not just between nations, but even the entire trajectory of our human race seems to be in the midst of a great battle between good and evil, truth and lies, love and hate.  

    While I was in Alabama, I had a chance to read a Catholic novel called The Sabbatical by Michael O’Brien.  It’s about an Oxford professor who gets involved with a family whom other mysterious, evil forces seek to destroy.  I certainly don’t want to give away the book, and I encourage you to read it if you’re looking for good, Catholic literature.  Towards the end of the book, there is a dialogue between an elderly wise priest, Fr. Turner, and the protagonist, Professor Owen Whitfield:
 

[Father Turner said,] “You have come through a great stress–and sorrow.  You are very tired, and you are asking yourself if all the effort of your life is useless.”
[Owen responds] “At times I do feel that.  Of course, I know it’s not true.  But the battle seems interminable, and the gathering forces of darkness go from victory to victory…the captive minds of a generation and those who rule them are now beyond numbering.”
“Minds can be illuminated.  Providence is ever at work.  Love does not abandon us.  He never abandons us.”
“It certainly feels like abandonment, and looks very much like it too.”
“The enemy taunts you, Owen….He insinuates in your heart that he is winning this war, and you wonder whether he is right.”
[…]
“I do feel defeated,” Owen admitted.
“That is the enemy’s provocation.  If you leave your station in the battle line, you break the line of defense and weaken the lines behind you.  But if you stand firm, if you hold your position, even though you do not understand its purpose or usefulness, when it comes time for the King to tell you what to do, you will be ready for it and you will be effective.”

I’m sure my reading of this dialogue doesn’t do it justice, but you can see how it aligns with our readings today.  And I imagine it speaks to some, if not all, of you, at least at one point of your life or another.
    So, what do we do?  How do we keep our station in this battle between light and darkness?  A battle, I might add, that has already been won, but in which the “minor” skirmishes are still being fought on the field until the fullness of victory comes forth.  Owen’s monologue illumines this point.  He says to himself:
 

You do the duty of the tasks at hand….You keep faith with your responsibilities and your vocation, and you love the souls you’ve brought into the world and the souls God brings into your life.  You work and you pray.  You try to turn everything into prayer, and you practice hope.  You keep your eyes trained on the true horizon.

Because the dawn is coming, the dawn that shall break from on high, the rising Son who is not an orb of burning gas, but God Himself who took on our human nature.  He is coming, and the time is now to prepare for that return.  It is like Gandalf coming with Éomer to relieve the beleaguered forces at Helms Deep: “Look to my coming at first light….At dawn, look to the East.”  The Lord will return and will forever put to flight the forces of darkness by the rising of His Light, the Light from Light, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit live and reign 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.  

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.  

Already and Not Yet

Feast of Christ the King
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  As we celebrate Christ the King, we celebrate what is, but also long for what is to come.  We see this even in our Lord’s description of His kingdom.  In the Gospel according to St. Mark, in the very first chapter, Christ says, “‘This is the time of fulfillment.  The kingdom of God is at hand.”  In the Gospel according to St. Luke, in chapter 21, the same Christ says, “‘behold, the kingdom of God is among you.’”  And yet, as we heard today, Christ also says in the Gospel according to St. John, “‘My kingdom does not belong to this world.  If my kingdom did belong to this world, my attendants [would] be fighting to keep me from being handed over….  But as it is, my kingdom is not here.’”  So, which is it?  Is the kingdom at hand and even among us, or is it not here?

    Yes.  Yes it is at hand; yes it is among us; yes it is not here.  As with so many aspects of our faith, we need to unpack the idea of Christ’s kingdom.  The Incarnation is the presence of the Kingdom of God, where all is right.  Christ holds all things together in himself, and in Christ we have the perfect union of God and man, which is part of the kingdom.  In Christ, the human soul is subject to the will of God perfectly, and the body is subject to the human soul.  In Christ, love and truth have met, justice and peace have kissed (to cite Psalm 84).  
    But, and you don’t have to look hard to realize this next point, we’re not living in the fullness of the kingdom.  Our bodies do not always obey our souls, which do not always obey the will of God.  Love is distorted to mean delight or even license; justice is often available to the highest bidder and is applied differently if you have money and/or power than if you don’t; civil unrest, battles, and wars still plague our cities, State, nation, and world.  Sorry, Belinda Carlisle, but heaven is not a place on earth.      And yet, as followers of Christ live the Gospel, heaven does break into earth more and more, and the kingdom establishes itself more perfectly.  When we love to the best of our ability with the love of God, the kingdom grows.  When we proclaim the truth of the Gospel, the truth that the Church continues to unpack throughout the centuries, the kingdom grows.  When we not only give each other his or her due, but also help others to thrive, the kingdom grows.  When we are able to pray for our enemies and do good to those who persecute us, the kingdom grows.  This is not to say that we are the ones who bring about the kingdom; that work is always primarily the work of God, with which we participate.  The approach that we have to usher in the kingdom tends to go wrong pretty quickly, due to our own sinfulness.  Just look at the approach taken in Central America which sought to bring about the kingdom, but which ended up being Marxist regimes that oppressed the people and led to class warfare and societal instability.
    It is Christ who brings about His own kingdom, and He will fully establish His reign at the end of time, when His angels will separate the sheep from the goats, the wheat from the chaff, and will cast down the beast and its followers for eternity in Hell.  That will be a dies irae for those who work against God, and the battle will be swift and decisively victorious for Christ.
    It will be decisive because Christ already decisively conquered on a tree.  His sacrifice, re-presented for us in an unbloody manner on this altar, was the defining battle of all time, when Satan was conquered once-for-all, and sin and death were trod underfoot.  So Christ already achieved victory, but that victory has not been extended in totality yet.  And that is why we wait.
    And as we wait, we show if we want to be victorious in Christ, or conquered with the ancient foe.  We demonstrate whether we prefer to serve in heaven or reign in hell.  Our actions are our response to the invitation of eternal salvation in the kingdom of God.  Are we going to the wedding feast of the kingdom, or do we find excuses why we cannot attend?
    If we wish that kingdom to spread, if we wish to cooperate in spreading that kingdom, then it begins here.  If Christ is the kingdom of God in its fullness, then when we receive Holy Communion worthily, the kingdom of God is among us and even within us.  Coming to Mass, offering ourselves with the host and the wine, and then receiving in a state of grace the Eucharist allows the kingdom of God to be planted inside of us at least each week, or even every day.  The more that we receive the Eucharist in a state of grace, the more likely it is that we will respond to spreading that kingdom in our lives at work, at home, on vacation, at sporting events, etc.  
    That kingdom also spreads most easily through the domestic church, the family.  When parents demonstrate love, the children learn to do the same.  When children and parents tell the truth, God’s kingdom is strengthened among them.  When parents make sure that every member of the family has the ability, not only to survive but to thrive, the justice of the Kingdom of God grows.  When children learn how to say “I’m sorry” when they have done wrong, and when children see their parents apologize for their sins in confession and in the home, Christ’s kingship is established more and more.  And then those children are more likely to do the same in the homes and families that they make for themselves.  And the kingdom spreads even more.  
    If you wish to help the kingdom God, then love, not only your neighbors, but also your enemies.  If you wish to help the kingdom of God, tell the truth, be honest in contracts.  If you wish to help the kingdom of God, stand up for what is right, no matter how unpopular it may be, correct with charity, when appropriate, and administer discipline as your state calls you.  If you wish to help the kingdom of God, admit when you’re wrong, and forgive when others have wronged you.  It will help show the “already” of the kingdom, and will allow us to persevere in the “not yet,” until Christ reigns fully, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, for ever and ever.  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!

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.

The End is Near

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

Four years ago, there were people, no small amount, who did not think that we would be here, because the Mayans stopped updating their calendar and didn’t have a date past 21 December 2012.  By this time in 1999, the world was freaking out (that’s a scientific term).  Computers weren’t supposed to be able to handle the year 2000, and it was supposed to create a worldwide disaster, which could signal at least a return to the dark ages for Western civilization, or maybe even the end of the world.  In 1831, William Miller and 100,000 of his closest friends, were convinced Jesus was going to return in 1843, until that didn’t happen, and the date was revised for a year later, which also, obviously, didn’t happen.  In 1524, a respected German mathematician and astrologer predicted there would be a world-covering flood, because all of the planets were aligning under the zodiac sign Pisces; it did rain lightly on the predicted day of the flood.  In 476, as the barbarians crushed what was left of the Western Roman Empire, the same empire that had legalized and then endorsed Christianity, it was thought that the world was coming to an end.  And though I hesitate to mention it, there are a number of people in our country who feel like the world is going to end because of our recent elections.

But here we are.  Now, as Catholics, we know that Jesus will return and usher in the end of the world.  We profess that every solemnity in our creed.  But I’m not here to give you a date for that return.  We don’t know when it will happen.  But it will happen.  The signs that Jesus describes in our Gospel today–wars, insurrections, false prophets and messiahs, earthquakes, famines, and plagues–all of these have happened over and over again.  Still, we are still here, for now.

When many preachers talk about the end times, they make it quite scary.  And Jesus does talk about how it will be trying times.  But as Catholics, we should not be afraid of the end.  Nor should we put our faith in magnificent buildings or large numbers.  One of the great joys of my life has been to study in Rome for 5 months.  I was able to see amazing churches, especially the Basilica of St. Peter, the Basilica of St. John Lateran, the Basilica of St. Paul Outside the Walls, and the Basilica of Santa Maria sopra Minerva.  It would create such an ache in my heart if I found out that any of those churches, or any others, were destroyed by nature or by humans.  But my faith is not in buildings.  We survived and thrived as a church for about 300 years without a Basilica of St. Peter, and the current basilica is only from the 17th century (in Roman terms, in a city founded in 753 BC, it’s just a baby basilica).

Our faith cannot be in the passing world.  So many of the things in this world we assume will always be here; we cannot imagine life without them.  But they are passing things; only Jesus is eternal.  Each day that we live, we are getting closer and closer to the second coming of Jesus, the end of this world, and the beginning of the new heaven and new earth.  In that sense, we can say the end is near.  It’s certainly closer to happening now than it was 1000 years ago.  

Does this freak us out (again, a very scientific term)?  The end of the things that we take for granted as always being a part of our life should only cause us to be alarmed if our life is not anchored in Jesus, who will outlast all the passing reality.  The end of the world should only make us worry if we do not live as Jesus taught us, because God tells us through Malachi in our first reading that evildoers will be stubble, burnt in a field.  When we think of evildoers we often think of people like Hitler and Stalin.  But to be a doer of evil simply means that we act contrary to God’s will in a grave way as expressed through Scripture or through the Church.  So if we steal from our company; if we make false gods for ourselves out of our possessions; if we condone or support racism; if our first allegiance is not to our God but to our own wills or to any other organization; if we call good evil, and call evil good; then we should be worried.  Then Jesus’ return will not be a happy day for us.  “But for you who fear [God’s] name, there will arise the sun of justice with its healing rays.”

For almost two full millennia, during her liturgies in most churches, all of the people, including the priest, faced a unified direction for the Eucharistic prayer, not so that the priest didn’t have to look at the people, but so that the entire church could be focused on Jesus, the Sun rising from the East, the sun of justice.  The posture of the people was such that they knew that they had to be focused on Jesus, waiting for His return, rather than turning in on itself.  Turning towards Jesus meant turning away from all those things that distracted them from Him.  Even today in most Catholic cemeteries, including New Calvary, all the bodies who are buried in the ground are facing east.  I’m not saying I’m going to start celebrating Mass ad orientem, but we are invited in today’s readings to turn away from sin, turn away from our fallen selves, turn away from all the passing things that we consider so permanent, so that we can turn to Jesus, who “is the same yesterday, today, and forever,” and whose kingdom will have no end.

Maybe the homily seems a little dour today.  Maybe it feels a little fire and brimstone-ish.  Brothers and sisters, the good news today is that, while we still have breath, we can turn towards the Lord Jesus, the sun of justice who will rise from the east, and ask forgiveness.  We don’t know when the world will end, but if we live each day as if it could end any moment, then we will be ready for Christ to return in glory, and that time of the end will be a day of rejoicing.  

Country Club of Heaven

First Sunday of Advent

Ever since 24 June, the Solemnity of the Birth of John the Baptist, there has been less and less daylight in our part of the world.  That changes right around 25 December, the Solemnity of the Birth of Jesus Christ, the Light of the World.  But until we get there, it’s dark.  And with daylight saving’s time having ended, it gets dark pretty early.  Today the sunset around 5:05 p.m.  Even though 5 p.m. is not late at all, with the early darkness, it just seems gloomy, especially with the usual Michigan winter cloudiness.

In the midst of this gloom, we can long for the long, warm days of summer, when all was bright and the sun was out until 9 p.m. or even later!  But it can be hard to think that those days will ever be here again when its dark so early, and certainly not as warm (though it is a warm weekend!).  

We get a sense through our weather of what the Jews were going through as Jeremiah was prophesying.  At this point in the Book of the prophet Jeremiah, the city is under siege by the Babylonians, who are about to take Jerusalem.  This will be the beginning of the Babylonian Exile, which exiles most of the Jews from Judah and Jerusalem until 587 B.C.  Those days were certainly dark, and not because of daylight saving’s time!  

In the midst of that darkness, Jeremiah speaks for the Lord a word of hope: “I will raise up for David a just shoot;…In those days Judah shall be safe and Jerusalem shall dwell secure.”  God promises that the dark days will not last forever.  He will give them new life, and a new king from the line of David, the idyllic king, who will be just.  Judah and Jerusalem shall not be besieged, but shall be safe and secure.

Jesus’ words in the Gospel do not sound so calming and hopeful.  Jesus is speaking to His disciples just before His Passion, and is warning them about the end times.  They will be so horrible that people will die of fright simply anticipating what will happen.  “‘But,’” as Jesus says, “‘when these signs begin to happen, stand erect and raise your heads because your redemption is at hand.’”  For Jesus disciples, who are following Him and His will, the terror of the end is like the birth pangs which bring about new life.  So, maybe we can breathe a sigh of relief.  After all, we are Jesus’ disciples, and we have nothing to worry about.  We go to Mass each Sunday, so we’re good.  Right?

Well, Jesus’ next words should give us a little more trepidation.  Jesus warns His disciples not to become lax so that the end catches us off-guard.  And he tells His disciples to be vigilant “‘and pray that you have the strength to escape the tribulations that are imminent and to stand before the Son of Man.’”  

Being baptized and attending Mass each Sunday and Holyday is a big deal.  It shows at least a minimal attachment to Jesus and a desire to work at our relationship with Him.  But baptism is not a membership card in the Heavenly Country Club.  It’s not like if we sign up to join (baptism) and pay our weekly dues (going to Mass) that Jesus has to let us in.  Being a disciple of Jesus is not about going through the motions.  Being Catholic is not about the rules.  Being a Catholic and a disciple of Jesus is about growing in our friendship with Jesus and making our lives more like His.  That is the sign that we have accepted God’s friendship, which is offered to all, and that we are going in our friendship with Jesus.  We cannot rest on the laurels of our past good deeds.  We are never at a point in our relationship with Jesus where we can say, “I’ve done enough; I can just coast from here on out.”  Imagine if you treated your friends that way: “I’ve spent enough time with you for a while.  I’ll see you sometime in June.”  You probably wouldn’t be good friends.  Or imagine if you treated your spouse that way (so many saints and even Jesus talk about our relationship in marriage/wedding terms): “I spent every day with you so far in 2015; I’m going to live with someone else for December, but I’ll see you again in January.”  I’m sure that marriage wouldn’t last long.  

St. Paul encourages us to conduct ourselves in a particular way, as friends of Jesus.  We see that in the love that we share with others, but especially in the love we have for God, which overflows into our love for others.  As Pope Benedict said in his Encyclical, Deus caritas est: “Being Christian is not the result of an ethical choice or a lofty idea, but the encounter with an event, a person, which gives life a new horizon and a decisive direction.”  If we love God, then we don’t simply go through the motions of the sacramental life of the Church and weekly Mass attendance, but we allow those sacraments and the Mass to propel us in loving God and our neighbor in daily life, that is to say, in growing as friends of Jesus.  

Things may seem dark during this time of year.  Things may seem dark in our lives at other times.  But God has a vision of hope for us: the hope of new life in growing in our relationship with Jesus.  That relationship gives us the true Light, Jesus Christ, and prepares us for the unending Day of the Lord in heaven when Jesus returns.

"Are We There Yet?"

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

            We’ve seen it in many TV shows and movies.  Maybe we’ve even experienced it in our own lives.  It’s a long car ride.  There are kids in the back of the car.  “Are we there yet?”  “No.”  “How much longer?”  “No too long.”  “Are we there yet?”

            This is the same type of question that the disciples are asking today, although, rather than asking about a car ride, they’re asking about the end times: “Teacher, when will this happen?  And what sign will there be when all these things are about to happen?”  And as disciples two thousand years later, we’re still wondering the same thing.  We are very curious about the end of the world; about when and how it will happen.

            Of course, if you believe Hollywood or the Mayans, we only have about two years left.  Secular culture is so convinced that if we just do the right math we’ll figure it out.  But to secular culture and to us Jesus says, “‘See that you not be deceived, for many will come in my name, saying, “I am he,” and “The time has come.”  Do not follow them!’”

            What do we know about the end?  Well, from what we heard in today’s first reading, it will be a day when the wrath of God is revealed in its full power against sin and its agents as “all the proud and evildoers will be stubble, and the day that is coming will set them on fire, leaving them neither root nor branch.”  For those who, in this life, have opposed God, it will not be a happy day.  “But for you who fear my name,” continues to prophet Malachi, “there will arise the sun of justice with its healing rays.”  So for those who have not opposed God, who have done His will; who have loved God above all things, and their neighbors as themselves; who have not separated themselves from God by mortal sin, it will be a time of healing and peace.  For those who have been already perfected in this life and have lived as saints, heaven will immediately await.  For those who, although they have not separated themselves from God by unforgiven mortal sins, still have some attachment to sin, they will be purified by Purgatory, so that they can, after their purification, deign to see God face to face.

            This should cause us to wonder, if it were to happen right now, what would be my eternal destiny?  Would I be considered a sheep who attended to the Lord’s hunger, thirst, nakedness, and loneliness through my care for those least brothers and sisters of His?  Or would I be considered a goat for ignoring the Lord’s needs through ignoring the least brothers and sisters of His?  Have we worked in the vineyard of the Lord, truly caring for others?  Or have we been the people that St. Paul admonished in the second reading, those who conduct themselves in a disorderly way, “not keeping busy but minding the business of others”?

            But in discerning how we have lived our life, we should not be led to despair.  The call of the Lord, and the call that He is making through these readings is not to give up.  We are not to be like children, who, knowing that the trip might take 4 hours, might never go because “we’re not there yet!”  Rather, we are called to a deeper conversion, to turning back towards the Lord and to getting to know him better. 

            But conversion is not just about doing the right things so the big policeman in the sky (the way we can sometimes view God) won’t lock us in the prison of hell.  Conversion is about being truly happy.  I firmly believe that all of us want to be happy.  But, ironically, we can sometimes act against that happiness by simply seeking pleasure.  But by letting our pleasures rule us, we very quickly becomes slaves to our pleasures and passions, and do not enjoy the freedom that comes from denying ourselves pleasures from time to time in order that we might be truly happy later.

            And I’m not saying that we deny ourselves all the pleasures that life licitly offers.  God save us from dour-faced saints!  Truly we can enjoy friendship and fellowship with others at parties, as long as those parties don’t lead us to drink in excess or don’t lead us to neglect our responsibilities as students, employees or employers, or whatever our avocation is.  Truly we can enjoy the romantic companionship of another, as long as we or they are not married to another person, and as long as that romantic companionship does not lead to sexual activity that is not fitting to our state in life (i.e., single or celibate, or married).  Truly we can enjoy the great taste of food, as long as we do not become gluttonous and eat too much, or, on the other extreme, eat but not take nourishment from that food because of a lack of a good body image.  We can enjoy the many gifts that the Lord has given to us and have pleasure in our life, but we must be sure that our pleasures are truly leading us to happiness.

            If we are responding to the Gospel in real ways and following God’s Law, then the end of the world is not something we will fear or try to calculate, because we will be living lives constantly prepared for the Lord to come.  Christ will return to reign as eternal King on earth when it is the appointed time and will bring His divine wrath to those who opposed Him, and His divine justice and mercy, which heal, to those who were united to Him by their actions.  May we, by the way we live, be ready to inherit the happiness that awaits those who remained faithful to the Lord, and be ready to say at all moments of our life: Come, Lord Jesus!