Waiting...

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

    Modern society does not make waiting easier, though, for many, myself included, it already seems difficult enough.  If I order something on Amazon, not only can I track the package to see when they will deliver it, they even sometimes will show me where the driver is in the city.  On election night, too, it frustrated me that the results of States couldn’t be called immediately.  I wanted to know the results immediately, or shortly after, the polls closed.  But I had to wait.
    Unlike Amazon deliveries, and more like the recent elections, we don’t know when the end is coming.  We know Christ will return.  We know, as Daniel prophesied, that “those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake.”  But we don’t know when.  Many have tried to read certain passages of Scripture and match them to current events to determine when Christ would return, but Christ Himself assures us, “‘of that day or hour, no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.’”  So what are we supposed to do?
    Well, we wait (thanks, Captain Obvious!).  But how do we wait?  We wait in joyful hope, but we wait as those awaiting the imminent return of the Master, waiting in such a way that we’re not caught off-guard.  What do I mean?  Don’t live in such a way that you think you have more time, because you never know.
    We do have a very young parish.  I would guess that the average age of parishioners is somewhere around 40-45.  And one of the downfalls of being young is thinking that we have more time.  Those who are more senior know that their days are limited, and the end is likely closer than the beginning.  So they tend to make decisions differently than those who think they have a long time.
    I think about when I was younger.  I know I’ve told this story before, but when I was old enough to be left at home, but still under the age of eighteen, my parents would often give me some sort of chore to do before they returned home, like washing the dishes, or sweeping the floor.  There were a few times where I neglected to do those chores earlier, and then remembered that I had not done what they had asked me to do as the car started down the driveway.  In case you’re wondering, that’s not the way we should approach the return of Christ.
    Living as disciples should be something that pervades all our life.  It’s not a part-time job, or a chore to accomplish at the last minute, or a hobby.  It’s a relationship with Christ, that should define who we are, much like marriage defines a man or a woman who is married.  The couple who treats their relationship like a part-time job, or a chore, or even an enjoyable hobby, does not stay together for long.  Instead, their marriage affects their work, their choices, their vacation plans, and all of what they do.  It may not be explicit, but it at least implicitly modifies all their life.  
    And if that is how we live as Catholics, then whenever the end comes, it will not catch us off-guard.  When Christ returns in glory, and He raises all the dead for the universal judgement, we will find it the consummation of the way we have lived our lives, rather than a shock and awe event.  It will be like the husband who has served overseas in the military for years, who finally gets to see his wife when he returns home.  They will hardly be able to contain their joy at reuniting after those long days, months, and years.  Their days, months, and years of remaining faithful to each other; of not living like a single person, though they were separated from their spouse; of not going out to the bars at times because the temptation to stray would prove too strong; of choosing to send and email home rather than playing cards with the guys would all prove worth it, because they remained faithful, even when it was difficult.
    Emilio, as we welcome you today into the Catholic Church, you are not done.  Yes, you don’t have to meet with Amanda each week to help discern if you are ready to join us.  Yes, you will have access to the entire sacramental life of the Church from this day on, and not only be joined to us through Holy Baptism.  But you are beginning a new part of life where Christ desires and deserves your fidelity.  Your relationship with Him should guide how you work, how you invest, your friendships and relationships, your actives, your vacations, and all of life, just like the same should be true for all those here who are already Catholics.  But, because you are joining with us, you have all the aides that Christ has provided through His Holy Church to make sure that you are living for Him, and stand ready for His return.  We rejoice with you today, but we also recommit ourselves as we help you live like a Catholic each day until the return of Christ.
    Because we know neither the day nor the hour.  We don’t know when St. Michael will begin the final battle, when the trumpet will sound, when the angels will gather the elect from the four corners of the world.  But we do know that, if we are doing our best to stay faithful to the relationship we have with Christ, then, as the Protestant hymn says, “what a day of rejoicing that will be!”

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.  

Confutatis and Lacrimosa

 Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
    One of my favorite pieces of classical music is Mozart’s “Requiem” Mass.  I first heard it by watching the movie “Amadeus,” which is the story of Mozart’s troubled and amazing life.  Part of the music which is, in my opinion, angelic, are the two movements: “Confutatis maledictis” and “Lacrimosa.”  These two movements come from the larger sequence, “Dies irae,” which used to be used in every funeral, or requiem Mass.  
    At first you might think that “Day of Wrath,” (which is what Dies irae means) may not be the music you want to hear at a funeral.  And that first verse is, “Day of wrath!  O day of mourning! / See fulfilled the prophets warning, / Heaven and earth in ashes burning!”  These images come from the Biblical images that we heard about in today’s readings.  In our first reading, we heard the Prophet Daniel prophesy, “it shall be a time unsurpassed in distress since nations began until that time.”  And even Jesus says the end shall include a time where “the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from the sky, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.”  That is somewhat sounding like a Dies irae. 

   These very stressful images comes from God making things right again.  The world has a way it likes operating in its fallen mode.  It has become comfortable with sin and death.  But as Christ returns, sin and death will be brought to an end, which will be traumatic on the system of sin and death.  It’s like the world is a car driving 70 mph on the freeway, and Jesus’ return is kicking it into reverse while driving.
    But it’s not just the world.  As we think about the end, we can also examine our own lives.  In what ways have we become comfortable with sin?  What sins do we excuse as “natural” and “everyday” issues.  This is not to say that some sins are not more egregious than others; that’s why we delineate between mortal and venial sin.  But even the smallest venial sin is not part of God’s original or final plan for humanity and the world.  Even a venial sin offends God and made Jesus’ sacrifice on the Cross necessary.  So in our own life, if we are comfortable with sin, the change to no sin will seem quite traumatic for us, as traumatic as death is in the face of life.  We know death is not supposed to happen, and it pains us deeply.  In fact, we fight against it with all we have.  That will be like what happens when Christ comes to undo the reign of sin and death in us.  And that is why the Church talks about Purgatory as a purification.  Purgatory is that process after death of changing us from a life of sin to a life of holiness.  It’s a total overhaul.  And overhauls can be painful.  The end result is always worth it: eternal life.  But until the end product is achieved, it’s painful to be retooled.  
    Still, the end is worth it, and it’s not all pain and suffering.  Even in the Dies irae we hear verses such as: “Think, kind Jesu! –my salvation / Caused Thy wondrous Incarnation; / Leave me not to reprobation.” and “With Thy sheep a place provide me, / From the goats afar divide me, / To Thy right hand do Thou guide me.”  And the sequence even ends with, “Lord, all-pitying, Jesus blest, / Grant them Thine eternal rest.  Amen.”  
    The end of the change from a world of sin is the final completion of what Jesus achieved on the cross: the end of sin and death forever.  But, as with so many things in life, the peace only comes after the struggle.  However, with Jesus, the struggle isn’t a competition where we wonder who will win.  Jesus has already won, and we’re just waiting to taste the fruits of that victory.  
    So when we talk about the end times, do we, as Catholics need to fear?  We are, each day, one day closer to Christ returning in glory to judge the living and dead, as we profess each time we say the Creed.  Should the Day of Wrath be something that we fret about?
    That depends on how we’re living our life.  The more we live like we’re in heaven, the less that we will experience a Day of Wrath at the end.  The more that we’re responding to God’s will, saying yes to the invitations of God each day, the less painful it will be at the end of our lives.  The more we live like earth is all there is, the more we will be on a trajectory for “when the wicked are confounded, / Doomed to flames of woe unbounded,” and “that day of tears and mourning,” as the Confutatis and Lacrimosa state in the Dies Irae.  
    And the good news is that Jesus is there to help us.  He stands at the right hand of the Father, as we heard in our second reading, interceding for us, and showering His grace upon us so that we can live the heavenly life here on earth, and put to death on earth our fallen, sinful nature, while we rise to our glorified, heavenly nature.  For in the end, only Christ’s grace will be able to transform us.  Pie Iesu Domine, / Dona nobis requiem.  Merciful Lord Jesus, grant us eternal rest.  Amen. 

A Pilgrimage to Bethlehem

 

Manger Square

First Sunday of Advent
    One of the great blessings in my life is that I have been to the Holy Land three times: once as a seminarian, and twice as a priest.  And while the climax of the trip is the visit to the Basilica of the Holy Sepulchre, where Jesus died, was buried, and rose from the dead, also one of the major stops is the Church of the Nativity of the Lord.  Like a lot of other holy sites, a church was built in Bethlehem at the site of the Lord’s birth during the reign of Emperor Constantine, after his mother, St. Helena, had traveled to the holy sites.  Like other churches built during that time, it was destroyed.  But, a new church was built, around 529.  Unlike other churches, that same church structure from 529, though built up with additions, still remains.  As we were told, one reason why this church survived where others didn’t was because when the Persians attacked in 614, they spared this church alone, because above the church entrance were three Persian-dressed men.  It’s important to recall that, at the Epiphany, we celebrate Magi, wise men from the east.  And what is east of Judea?  Persia.  
    The Church of the Nativity has always been busy each time I went.  You enter through a door that makes you bend over to enter, called the “Door of Humility,” since you have to lower yourself to enter.  Then, as the antechamber opens up to the main nave of the basilica, you see how long the line is, and how long it will take you to wait in line to see the place where Jesus was born.  As a seminarian, I think I waited two hours or so.  This last time I went, I think I only had to wait 45 minutes.  

Door of Humility

    The line leads to a descending stair case, again, where one has to bow down to go through the archway above the opening, towards the Grotto of the Nativity, where Jesus was born.  At the location, in a small chapel, there is a silver star surrounded with a Latin inscription: Hic De Maria Virgine Maria Jesus Christus Natus Est, which means, Here, of the Virgin Mary, Jesus Christ was Born.  Across from there is the Grotto of the Manger, where Mary laid Jesus down to sleep after giving birth.  
    Why do I mention this church and my experiences?  Not only to highlight that it’s my intent to lead another pilgrimage to the Holy Land in 2022, but because I remember that wait.  At first you start praying, maybe a rosary, especially the third joyful mystery of the Nativity of the Lord.  And you’re trying to stay quiet (because otherwise the Orthodox monks will shush you), but eventually you want to talk a little bit.  There’s lots to see as you wait, as some of the columns still have saints painted on them.  There are mosaics from earlier times beneath the current floor, which you can see through plexiglass-covered openings in the floor.  Everyone wants to get in as soon as possible, so the idea of the line is basically morphed into a clump of people as you get closer (which does get precarious on uneven and semi-circularly shaped descending stairs).  There are icons everywhere, as most of the Church is controlled by the Orthodox Patriarchate of Jerusalem.  And the smells oscillate between the beautiful aroma of incense which is used in the Orthodox prayers, and the less than beautiful scent of BO of pilgrims who have been in the heat, or from other cultures who may have other approaches to deodorant.  But, through it all, you’re waiting to get to the cave, the niche where Jesus was born (we Latins tend to think of the creche, due to St. Francis of Assisi).  

Place where Jesus was born

    

So this Advent, we’re on our way to the cave.  We’re waiting, not only for our celebration of Christmas, but for Jesus to return, not as a babe but as a victorious King.  Jesus tells us to watch, because we don’t know when it will happen.  As we go on our way to Bethlehem, our celebration of Christmas, the first step in is always humility.  We cannot make our way to the cave, to Jesus’ birth, unless we humble ourselves before God.  If we try to get there with our pride, we won’t be able to enter in to encounter God.
    There will be times, on our way to the cave, when we know we want to pray, and there will be times when we are tempted to stop watching and waiting, and put our minds on something else.  As we go our minds will sometimes be lifted with the smoke of the incense into the heavens.  And sometimes we’ll be brought quickly back to earth by smells that are all to earthly, and not divine.  
    On our way to the cave, it’s important to recognize, as we heard the Prophet Isaiah say in our first reason, that part of the reason we don’t watch so well is because of our sins.  We miss seeing God because our sins have grabbed our attention.  So let’s confess our sins to the Lord, and ask for His mercy, confident in His love for us.  And having received the mercy of God, may we, with St. Paul, give thanks to God, who has given us His grace to become more and more like Him, who became like us in all things but sin.  
    Today we start our pilgrimage to Bethlehem.  Our path is humility, prayer, contrition, and patience.  It may take us a while, sometimes it may seem like a very long time, but we’ll get there.  And if we are ready, watchful in prayer, then as we celebrate God-with-us at Christmas, and as we watch and wait for Jesus to return, we will find such joy at seeing the star, Jesus, the Morning Star, who will return to inaugurate the day that never ends.  Venite, adoremus–Come, let us adore!

Nave of the Church of the Nativity

On (St.) Mike's Team

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

When I was in Catholic elementary school we had this kid named Mike who was an amazing athlete, even then.  He was great at soccer, hockey, and swimming, and he wasn’t bad at basketball, either.  Most days at lunch we would play soccer on the parking lot, and if you were on Mike’s team you were usually going to win.  So, of course, everyone wanted to be on his team, because everyone wanted to win.

In these last weeks of our Church year (Advent begins the new year for the Church), we take time to focus on the end of time and the return of Jesus, what we often call the Second Coming.  Our first reading and our Gospel definitely have that as our focus today.  Jesus focuses on the end, what will happen, how to read the signs of the times, and yet also affirms that nobody knows exactly when it will happen: not the angels, nor even the Son of God, Jesus, when He was on earth.  The choice belongs to God the Father.  And Daniel, the prophet, in our first reading describes how a great battle will take place, but that St. Michael the Archangel will lead God’s people through the “unsurpassed…distress.”  

I’ll be honest with you: it feels like we’re going through an “end times” right now.  The world seems like it’s always one step away from another world war; there is what we might call a mass apostasy, a large exodus of people who are giving up their Catholic faith; hedonism, the philosophy that states that the most important thing in life is personal pleasure, seems to be the prevailing view of many people, even from some inside the Church; Christ’s Church seems to be under constant attack from outside forces; and, to paraphrase Pope St. Paul VI, the smoke of Satan has even entered and seems to have taken hold within the Church at the highest levels.  Things are not good.

To be clear, I’m not saying that these are the end times.  No doubt many people in Rome and beyond felt like the end was coming when the Roman Empire, which had existed since 753 BC and had helped Christianity spread, collapsed in the West in AD 476.  No doubt many people felt like the end of the world was coming when Islam swept across the Middle East, North Africa, and even into Spain.  No doubt, many people felt like the end of the world was coming when Europe started to break apart during the Protestant co-called Reformation and the religious wars that followed.  No doubt, many people felt like the end of the world was coming when Christian nation battled against other Christian nations in World War I and perhaps around 19 million people, civilian and military, died in the “War to end all Wars,” whose centenary the world just solemnly remembered on Armistice Day, 11 November.

As Jesus says, we don’t know when the end of the world will come.  And as we go through these trials, it can be easy to forget that the war has already been won.  Christ has conquered Satan, and all that is with him, sin and death.  Given all the bad news, it can, in fact, feel like we’re losing, that there’s no hope.  But there is hope, and even certainty, that Jesus has won and all that is wrong with the world will be made right, and the forces of evil have lost and will lose in the end.  And that should give us comfort and courage in the midst of these trying times.

But, the trials and tribulations that we are undergoing now should also encourage us to choose the winning team to join in our day to day life.  We should want to be on Mike’s team, not Mike from St. Mary School in Williamston, but St. Michael the Archangel.  He is God’s warrior who defeats evil and will lead the forces of God through the failing forces of evil.  We should want to be on Jesus’ team, for whom St. Michael fights, so that we win at the end.  And that is what is so sad about all those who are walking away from their faith.  I’m not the judge, so I’m not hear to judge their culpability, but we certainly don’t show that we want to be on Jesus’ team by not spending time with Him each week at Mass.  We certainly don’t show that we want to be on Jesus’ team by not following His teachings that He gives us through His Church.  We certainly don’t show that we want to be on Jesus’ team by not making Him the most important aspect of our life, rather than sports, pleasure, or following the culture that has set much of itself against God.  Each day we show by our actions on whose team we want to be.

I don’t know if the world will end soon; no one does.  But in these difficult times of trial and tribulation, when more and more of the world sets itself against Jesus and against His Church, it can be easy to be despaired, to want to quit.  What comes to my mind is a quote from a story told by a Catholic, JRR Tolkien, in his trilogy, Lord of the Rings.  Frodo the Hobbit says, “I wish the Ring had never come to me.  I wish none of this had happened.”  Gandalf the wizard replies, “So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide.  All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.  There are other forces at work in the world, Frodo, besides the will of evil.”  Choose to be on Jesus’ team.  Make that choice evident by how you live your life one day at a time.

Late to the Party?

First Sunday of Advent

It may seem like the Church is a little late to the party.  Here we are, beginning the new liturgical year with the beginning of Advent.  There are no Christmas trees up (except our giving tree in the narthex); we have no poinsettias around; there are no manger scenes.  Yet in malls, at businesses, and it seems everywhere else, Christmas has already come.  And not only has it already come, it has been here for four weeks already!  Many places decorated for Christmas the day after Halloween.  So why doesn’t our Church get with it?!?

Because our Church knows the human condition better than the secular world, and, as a loving Mother, is helping Her children to grow in virtue, especially the virtue of patience and watchfulness.  She gives us this season of Advent to prepare.  And we only prepare, if we are not ready right now.  And we aren’t ready right now to celebrate the Nativity of Jesus.  We need time to wait and to watch.

Because, after all, we are still waiting and watching for Jesus to return.  The word “Advent” comes from the Latin word adveniens, which means coming, or coming to.  Ever since Jesus ascended into heaven, we are waiting for Jesus to come back, to come to us again.  These four weeks of Advent are a microcosm of the state of life for all Christians for their lives: waiting for Jesus, waiting to celebrate His coming.

And we wait and we watch because we “do not know when the Lord of the house is coming.”  Waiting and watching for this long is hard.  Perhaps we have become drowsy and fallen asleep, in the sense that we don’t really think that Christ is ever going to return.  It has been 1,984 years since Jesus ascended, with angels promising to return in the same way that He left us.  But it is not the right time yet, and so we can forget that Jesus will return.  We can live in such a way that shows that we think we have months, or years, or decades, or maybe even centuries before Jesus returns.  But in honest, we do not know the day, nor the hour.  

And so in this season of Advent, we do in an intense way for four weeks what we should be doing in our lives always: waiting for Jesus.  As a Church we don’t put up Christmas decorations until the last possible moment because we need to prepare our hearts.  Our first reading from the Prophet Isaiah gives us a clue on how to do that: we need to acknowledge our sinfulness, and ask God to return.  When we recognize that we have not lived like Jesus calls us to, we prepare a way for Jesus to come to us, because a heart that is repentant, that is contrite, is a heart that recognizes its need for Jesus.  And Jesus will not force Himself upon us.  If we do not feel we need Jesus (even though we, of course, always do), then He will not come to us.  And when we call out to Jesus to “return for the sake of your servants,” He hears our prayer and comes to us in love and mercy.  For what sibling would not come to the aid of His brother or sister, if that brother or sister pleaded for the presence of the brother.  Our Divine Brother, Jesus, is waiting to hear us cry out to Him in our need so that He can come and save us, but He will wait for us to ask.

Certainly in our homes and maybe our places of work, we are starting to decorate and we are beginning to celebrate Christmas in a secular way.  We have parties, we put up trees, we may even get together with family because of different schedules on Christmas day and after.  But let’s not forget that we’re not there yet.  There is virtue in waiting to celebrate because it helps us truly keep watch for Jesus’ second coming in glory.  In this time Jesus comes to us in mercy.  At the end of time Jesus will come to us in judgment.  In this time, we wait to celebrate the Nativity of Jesus as a tiny, helpless baby in Bethlehem.  At the end of time Jesus will come as a conquering King who will finally vanquish all the effects of sin and death.  May we truly be watchful in our daily lives, especially during this Advent season, so that Jesus may not come suddenly and find us sleeping.  “‘Be watchful!  Be alert!’”

"Be Watchful! Be Alert!"

First Sunday of Advent

            Last Sunday I shared with you that I was hit on my way to a dentist appointment in Williamston, and my car was beat up pretty bad.  I was very blest that there was really no damage to my person, and I was able to walk away from the crash; and, after making sure there were no injuries at the ER of Sparrow Hospital in Lansing, I have been pain free since last Monday.  What I didn’t share then is that I had called Shelly in our office (handsfree to be safe!) just to check on a couple of things on my way to the dentist’s office, and Shelly told me, “Drive safely!”  For whatever reason, after hanging-up, I remember thinking: ‘If I died in a car crash today, at least the last thing I would have done was say Mass [at 8 a.m.].’  But then I remember thinking that I shouldn’t be so melodramatic. 

            Obviously I didn’t die!  But since then, not having a scratch on me, and seeing the way the front end of the car looked, my mind has often returned to how different things could have been for me.  In a similar set of circumstances, I’m sure there are people who have not been able to crawl over to the passenger side of the vehicle and climb out.  I’m sure that many people have had broken noses and bruising on their faces.  But I am not one of them.  I escaped from that traumatic event with a small scrape on below my knee and a sore neck for two days; in essence, no real pain or trauma. 

            But when I saw this Gospel passage, and read Jesus saying, “‘Be watchful!  Be alert!  You do not know when the time will come.’” it certainly hit me differently this year than it has before.  If just a few of the details of the crash would have been different, I might have been buried from my first assignment as the sole priest. 

            I could also connect with the first reading from Isaiah: “Would that you might meet us doing right, that we were mindful of you in our ways!  […W]e are sinful; all of us have become like unclean people, all our good deeds are like polluted rags.”  What a joy it would have been to know that the last thing I did was provide Jesus to His people!  What a comfort to know that, for all my sins, my last deed was uniting people to the Blood of Jesus which cleanses us from sin and death!  Maybe it will still be that way.  Priests often hope that the last thing they do on earth is celebrating a sacrament with people, what we in the trade refer to as “dying with our boots on.”  But, as the Prophet Isaiah reminds us, even our good deeds are not enough.  Nothing we can do can earn our way into heaven.  It is Christ who welcomes us into heaven, if we have followed Him to the best of our ability as disciples.  And we know neither the day nor the hour. 

            Staying awake for a long time is hard.  Keeping our attention when it seems like we can slack off can sometimes feel impossible.  But that is what the Lord calls us to.  He calls us to always be people ready for judgment.  He calls us to be “gatekeepers…on the watch.”  My recent car episode has reminded me of that.  And it leads me to ask a question to you and me: what did you do before you came to Mass?  If, God-forbid, you would have died on your way here this morning, what would be the last thing that you did?  Did you yell at your children or embrace them?  Did words of love emanate from your mouth or words of hate?  Did you look down on the homeless man walking along the street, or pray that he may find shelter and a job?

            One of the posts on Facebook in response to the pictures of the car post-crash was from the diocesan Master of Ceremonies, Deacon Tom Fogle.  He wrote, “God has more plans for you if you were able to walk away from this without injury.”  Maybe Deacon Tom just wants me to help him more around the diocese with Masses the Bishop celebrates.  But God does have a plan for my life.  And He has a plan for your life.  And the only person who can really mess with that plan is me; is you.  We are the only ones who can derail that purpose for which God put us on the earth, no matter whether that plan was for a short time, like the sad situation when a child dies in the womb, or whether that plan was for 80 years.  Not even the devil himself can truly stop the plan of God in our life as long as we are willing to cooperate with God.  Bl. John Henry Cardinal Newman put it this way:

God has created me to do Him some definite service.  He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another.  I have my mission.  I may never know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next.  I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons.

He has not created me for naught.  I shall do good; I shall do His work.

I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place, while not intending it if I do but keep His commandments.

Therefore, I will trust Him, whatever I am, I can never be thrown away.  If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him, in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him.  If I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him.  He does nothing in vain.  He knows what He is about.  He may take away my friends.  He may throw me among strangers.  He may make me feel desolate, make my spirit sink, hide my future from me.  Still, He knows what He is about.

            We may not know what God has specifically intended for us.  But we know we are called to follow Him in all things.  We also know that our time is short, especially compared to eternity.  Jesus was not melodramatic.  So may we take seriously the serious words of Jesus: “‘Be watchful! Be alert!’”

Marana tha! or Dies Irae?

Thirty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

            It’s clear that our readings today focus on the end times.  And perhaps this subject is already on our mind with the impending arrival of December 21, 2012 (though, we should pay close attention to our Lord’s words at the end of today’s Gospel: “‘But of that day or hour, no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father’”).  But whether we have been thinking about it or not, the Word of God calls us to remember that this world is passing away, and a new world is coming where the Kingdom of God will be revealed in its fullness.

            Because the end of the world as we know it means the beginning of the world as God intends it, we should want the world to end.  In Sacred Scripture, the response of the Christians to the world ending is Marana tha!, an aramaic phrase that means, “Come, Lord Jesus!”  The Book that we associate with the Final Judgement, the Book of Revelation, is precisely a book of consolation.  St. John consoles the early Christians by assuring them that the persecutions and sufferings of this age will end, evil will be vanquished, and the reign of Christ, the Lamb who was slain but lives, will be ushered in.  It will be the time when “[Jesus’] enemies are made his footstool,” as our second reading from the Letter to the Hebrews stated.

            But there is another response besides Marana tha! which is also associated with the end times: Dies irae in Latin, or “Day of wrath,” in English.  This is the response of those who have put themselves at enmity with God, and for whom the coming judgement is feared because the establishment of the fullness of the Kingdom of God means the destruction of their own kingdom.  As Dies Irae states, “Tearful will be that day/ on which from the ash arises/ the guilty man who is to be judged.”

            What is our response to the second coming of Christ?  For those who are following the will of God in their lives, it is likely, Marana tha!  For those who are following their own will, it will likely be a Dies irae.  Even our first reading sets up the dichotomy of two responses to the end.  The Lord tells Daniel that when St. Michael comes, the great angel (that is, messenger) of the judgment of God, for some “‘it shall be a time unsurpassed in distress since nations began until that time.’”  And yet, the just “‘shall escape,’” and the wise, “‘shall shine brightly likely the splendor of the firmament, and those who lead the many to justice shall be like the stars forever.’”

            Some of you may be thinking right now, “Why so morbid?  What exactly happened on that pilgrimage to the Holy Land?”  But reflecting on the end times is a perennial call of the Church, to remind us of the eternal consequences of our actions.  Let’s be honest, sometimes we need a little fear in our life to do the right thing, because we still labor under the effects of original sin.  Some people like to speed while driving, so I’m told.  But when they see a police car on the side of the road, they are reminded to slow down.  Some students would much rather take the short cut of copying off a neighbor’s test, but the watchful eye of the teacher or professor can help us to avoid that temptation.  Being reminded of the end times reminds us that, while we may get away with just about anything here on earth, we will be called to account for our actions before the judgment seat of God who is Truth itself, and no amount of sweet-talking or rationalizing will change the truth of what we have done.

            That is why the Church recommends a regular examination of conscience and frequent confession, to call us back to the Lord, and to have our sins forgiven while they still can be.  Because once we have died, there is no more time for conversion: we have either said yes to God and will be welcomed by the saints into heaven (even if we need a little purifying from our attachment to sin in Purgatory), or we have said no to God and will be welcomed by Satan and the fallen angels into Hell.  We either receive the reward of eternal happiness as the consequence of our good choices, or we receive the punishment of eternal damnation as the consequence of our unrepented sin. 

            So we can ask ourselves: do I enjoy spending time with God?  Do I attend Mass each Sunday and Holyday?  Do I take time each day to pray?  If so, Marana tha!; Come, Lord Jesus.  Or do I go throughout my day without giving God a thought, and make excuses why Mass is inconvenient for me or just plain, old boring?  If so, Dies irae; Day of Wrath.  Have I made a god out of power, prestige, sports, influence, money, or any other created good?  Dies irae.  Or do I seek to serve and to put all things in their proper order, so that God is first, others are second, and I am last?  Marana tha!  Am I greedy?  Do I keep things from the poor and those in need, and therefore keep them from Christ, especially clothes or other goods that I will never use?  Dies irae.  Or am I generous with what I have, especially my time and the gifts that God has given me to share with others?  Marana tha! 

            May the coming judgment, which will find us individually at our death, and universally at the second coming, be for us not a day of wrath, but an invitation for the Lord Jesus to come.  And as even Dies Irae states, “O you, God of majesty, gracious splendor of the Trinity, join us with the blessed.  Amen.”

"Wake, O Wake and Sleep No Longer"

First Sunday of Advent

            A week ago today I went on a KAIROS retreat with some of the students from Lansing Catholic as an adult leader, as well as to take some retreat time for myself.  It’s a great retreat, focusing on the love of God, and from my time spent with the students, I know it was very beneficial to them.  I was a little nervous, however, that, in leading the retreat I wouldn’t get time to get spiritually refreshed myself.  How wrong I was!!

            We all need times to refresh, to charge our batteries, to start over anew.  Today marks the beginning of the Advent season, the time of preparation for the coming of Christ.  Besides beginning with the new translations, we are also beginning a new liturgical year, a new year of grace.  While I doubt that anyone stayed up late last night, waiting for midnight and the new liturgical year to come, and we certainly didn’t have a ball of lights at the top of the bell tower, we should be excited about this new liturgical year, because it is another chance for all of us to refocus ourselves on knowing that we are loved by God and loving God in return.  It is a chance for us to make a new liturgical year resolution to grow closer to God, through His Son, Jesus Christ, in the power of the Holy Spirit. 

            This is our chance to recognize that, over the past year, we have wandered away from God, and not been as loving and faithful to Him as we should have been.  In our first reading, Isaiah asks why this should be so.  He writes, “You, LORD, are our father, our redeemer you are named forever.  Why do you let us wander, O LORD, from your ways, and harden our hearts so that we fear you not?”  Maybe we have asked this question ourselves after sinning.  Maybe we have wondered why God lets us turn away from Him.  The answer is simple, and yet profound: because God loves us.

            It might seem strange and counterintuitive to think that the reason God allows us to turn away from Him is because He loves us.  But, what is love if it is not free?  We don’t love because we are forced to.  We love because we make a choice to, even when that choice is very difficult.  Real love includes the possibility that the other will not return that love back, with all the pain and heartache that can bring.  But, because there is always the option of not having that love returned, when that love is returned, it makes the recipient even more grateful that the beloved chose to return that love to the lover.  God, as our ultimate lover, allows us the freedom, something only humans have, to say yes or no to Him, to return that love, or hold it back.

            It is that love which increases the anticipation of waiting for the beloved to return.  Now, it’s pretty easy to tell that we’re waiting to celebrate Christmas during this Advent season.  We are preparing our hearts, allowing them to expand with more love, so that we might recall Christ’s birth with even more joy than last year.  You can’t help but notice this, as the Mall fills with holly and ivy, statues of Santa Claus, and nativity scenes.  We are waiting to celebrate Christ’s first coming. 

But we are also waiting for Christ to return again at the end of time, to create a new heaven and a new earth, so that Christ’s victory over sin and death might be manifest, not just in our souls, but in the whole created order, including the natural and supernatural.  That is why, during these first few weeks of Advent, we will hear readings about Christ returning in glory.  That is why we hear today, “‘Be watchful!  Be alert!  You do not know when the time will come.’”  It is not because the Church wants to scare you into doing what’s right.  The end of the world should not be scary for us, unless we are not returning the love that the Father has given us through our words and actions.  The time of Christ’s return in glory should be a time that we anticipate, as much as a child anticipates the celebration of Christmas.  It should excite us because that is the time when Christ, the first love of our hearts, will return to unite His faithful to Himself to be one with Him forever.  The words of a beautiful Advent hymn, “Wake, O Wake, And Sleep No Longer” help us to understand this, as the Church is personified in Zion: “Zion hears the sound of singing; Her heart is thrilled with sudden longing: She stirs, and wakes, and stands prepared.  Christ her friend, and lord, and lover, Her star and sun and strong redeemer—At last his mighty voice is heard.”  Are our hearts filled with sudden longing for Jesus?  Do our ears long to hear His voice?

Advent is the time to start anew in this new liturgical year; to reaffirm our love for Christ.  Will this be just another Advent like so many before, where we are just concerned with getting ready for the parties and the family coming over and buying all the right presents, or will we use this season to renew our love for Christ, and take time for Him as we celebrate with friends, co-workers, and family?  Will our greatest desire be for the newest toys, the newest things, or will it be for Jesus, our friend, and lord, and lover?  “‘May he not come suddenly and find you sleeping.’”  “Wake, O wake, and sleep no longer, For he who calls you is no stranger: Awake, God’s own Jerusalem.”