Joy and Sorrow

Nativity of the Lord: At the Vigil Mass
    This is certainly a unique Christmas Mass.  On the one hand tonight is a time of great rejoicing as we celebrate the birth of our God and Redeemer in the flesh.  On the other hand, this will be the last Christmas this church building will experience as a Catholic church.  For decades, families have gathered on the evening of 24 December to begin their celebration of Christmas by worshiping God.  Bittersweet does not begin to describe what so many of you, and I, are feeling tonight.  I’m not sure there is a word that can quite communicate all the emotions of this final St. Pius X Christmas Mass.

    But while we may vividly understand the prophet Isaiah talking about Israel seeming forsaken, or the land desolate, notice that those terms do not define Israel.  Instead, Isaiah prophecies that Israel shall be called “‘My Delight’” and the land “‘Espoused.’  For the Lord delights in you and makes your land his spouse.”  And, as the Psalmist says, forever God will maintain his kindness toward David and his descendants, and his covenant stands firm.  God has not abandoned us, nor can His covenant with us ever fade away.
    Indeed, even the Nativity itself had a tinge of struggle and sorrow.  What mother would want to give birth to her child, especially a child she knew to be the Son of God, in a cave?  Mary and Joseph were forced to go to Bethlehem to register for the Roman census.  A census was against what God had commanded, and it was being done by a foreign, occupying army.  Forty days after Christmas, when Mary and Joseph presented the Christ child in the temple, Simeon would tell Mary that her heart would be pierced.  And by the time Jesus was two, King Herod would try to kill Him, and kill many other baby boys, as a way to try to get rid of this newborn king. 
    And we also know that God’s ultimate plan, a plan that Jesus fully accepted in His human will, was to die on the cross so that sin and death would be defeated.  So while the Incarnation brought such great joy, it also made possible the worst offense to God that we could have ever committed: killing Him. 
    Still, even with being born in a cave; even with the sorrow that Mary would experience; even with the slaughter of the Holy Innocents; even with the rejection of His own people; even with the crucifixion; God did not abandon us, and brought joy to take the place of all that sorrow because He rose from the dead and defeated sin and death so that we could go to heaven and be perfectly happy with Him for eternity.  No matter how bad things got, God always brought joy and new life. 
    And He does that today.  God gives us the joy as celebrating, one last time, as a parish family, along with the yearly visitors we get for this solemn evening.  He is today, as much as He was some two thousand years ago, Emmanuel, God with us, who will not abandon us.  God will help us to continue to practice our faith in the coming months, just as He helped us practice our faith in this parish for almost seventy years.  God will bring joy and new life out of sorrow and death every time, as long as we remain close to Him and stay faithful to Him. 
    That joy and new life most often come in unexpected times and places.  Remember that no one cared about Mary when she conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit.  She wasn’t a powerful earthly queen; she wasn’t a well-known personality or religious figure.  She was a humble young woman, dedicated to doing God’s will.  Bethlehem, as the prophet Micah says, was the “least among the clans of Judah.”  The Roman province of Judea was not a metropolitan center of activity, but a backwater part of the Empire.  And while Mary and Joseph were both of the house of David, their kingly family had long since lost any political power or prestige.  But from these small, unnoticed, unspectacular circumstances, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, the Lion of the Tribe of Judah would be born and would begin to do what no one else could do: save the human race. 
    And so God will do with us, if we cooperate with His will.  He will raise up the humble, strengthen the weak, and continue His salvation through those who continue to cooperate with Jesus.  He doesn’t need prosperity or clout; all He needs is our willingness to follow His plan. 
    I will end tonight with the words that Pope St. Leo the Great.  Pope St. Leo the Great was supreme pontiff from 440 until 461, a time of great decline in the Roman Empire.  Barbarians were sacking and taking control of lands that had one been ruled by Rome.  False teachings persisted.  Disease and death were everywhere.  His time, like our own, was not easy.  And yet, for the celebration of Christmas, he writes:
 

Dearly beloved, today our Savior is born; let us rejoice.  Sadness should have no place on the birthday of life.  The fear of death has been swallowed up; life brings us joy with the promise of eternal happiness.  No one is shut out from this joy; all share the same reason for rejoicing.  Our Lord, victor over sin and death, finding no man free from sin, came to free us all.  […] When the angels on high are so exultant at this marvelous work of God’s goodness, what joy should it not bring to the lowly hearts of men?

Despite any darkness that comes our way, Jesus, the Light of the World, dispels it all and enlightens us so that we can live in the joy of His radiance.  We are the delight of the Lord, and His spouse.  As long as we stay with Him, no sadness can ruin the joy that belongs to us as sons and daughters in the Son of God, who tomorrow was born for us, Christ the Lord.

Vigils

Vigil of the Nativity
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  When I was in college, it was just starting to become academically “enlightened” to stop labeling time with the abbreviations BC (for before Christ) and AD (for Anno Domini, meaning Year of the Lord), to BCE (for Before the Common Era) and CE (the Common Era).  I’m sure some person thought it quite “diverse” to remove religious terms like “Christ” and “the Lord” from the way that time was measured.  However, a few minutes of critical thinking would have helped them to realize that the reference point for the change in marking time was still religious.  What was common about the Common Era is that time was measured from the birth of Christ.  No matter what you call it (and as Catholics we should continue to use BC and AD), time is measured as happening before the Incarnation or after the Incarnation.  Our measurement of time points to that one, unique, universe-altering experience of God-made-man.

Statue of David from Jerusalem

    As St. Paul opens his epistle to the Romans, he references that the Good News, the Gospel that God became man and took our sins away was promised beforehand by the prophets.  All the Old Testament, in some way, shape, or form, pointed to the moment when God took flesh and was born of the Virgin Mary.  Even from the very beginning of humanity, after our first parents had rebelled against God, God promised to send a descendant of Eve who would strike at the head of the ancient serpent who led Adam and Eve astray.  Melchizedek, the King of Salem or Jerusalem; to whom Abraham gave a tenth of his spoils; who as priest of God Most High offered bread and wine, pointed to the true King of Jerusalem, the only true Priest who offers Himself to us under the appearance of bread and wine.  Moses prophesied a prophet to whom the Chosen People must listen, and which pointed to the Incarnation.  David, the King of Israel after God’s own heart, to whom God promised an heir that would reign for ever, pointed to the Incarnation.
    The prophets, too, also spoke God’s word that He would come among us.  Isaiah especially prophesied the virgin who would be with child, whose name would be Immanuel, God with us; and the flower from the root of Jesse (David’s father); and the gifts of gold and frankincense brought from the nations to worship the new king.  Micah prophesied that a ruler would come forth from Bethlehem. 
    Even the secular history was preparing for this moment.  After the disruptive civil war between Julius Caesar and Pompey in 49 BC, and then Caesar’s assassination by Brutus in 44 BC, Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus, also known as Octavian Augustus, would establish a certain peace throughout the Roman Empire which would help the spread of the Gospel.  It was Augustus who called for a census, which led Mary and Joseph to go to Bethlehem (though it also led to no vacancy at any of the places they wanted to stay).
    Today we celebrate the Vigil of the Nativity of the Lord.  Many Catholics use the word vigil to mean the night before.  But in the traditional calendar, it was the entire day before (the Saturday evening Mass is not technically a vigil, it’s an anticipatory Mass).  And the vigil day was a day of preparation.  Often, though not on Sundays, it was a day of fasting or abstinence.  But the idea was to get ready for the joyful celebration on the following day.  The prayers were different, the readings were different, and often extended.  We still retain these extended readings and prayers, for example, in the Vigil of Easter and the Vigil of Pentecost, though both are celebrated at Mass during the evening or night. 
    But it also recalls the waiting and anticipation that occurred before that actual day arrived.  As I said earlier, humanity had been waiting for the promised redeemer since it had broken away from God at the Fall of Adam and Eve.  And God had, though it wasn’t always understood until after the Incarnation, prepared for a redeemer and prophesied a redeemer throughout the preparation of the Chosen People for the millennia before Christ was born in Bethlehem. 
    I know that this sense of anticipation and waiting is hard today, as many (myself included) put up Christmas decorations much earlier than today.  Many stores started celebrating Christmas the day after Thanksgiving (or even after Halloween!).  I have enjoyed listening to Christmas music since Thanksgiving.  And in less than 4 hours, I’ll be celebrating the first of four Christmas Masses.  Some of my fondest Christmas memories are going to my maternal grandparents on Christmas Eve and celebrating with them, before going to the evening Mass. 
    But it helps us to remember that every generation had hoped that theirs would be the one where the Messiah came and revealed himself.  Their eyes were attentive, their ears open to the possibility that God had come to save them, even if they weren’t always looking for salvation from sin, but from their foreign oppressors. That’s why, when St. John the Baptist appears, the Pharisees ask if he is the Christ, or at least Elijah, who would come before the Christ, or the Prophet that Moses prophesied in Exodus.  They were waiting and watching.  And today, to the best of our ability, so should we.
    Because tomorrow, December 25, we remember the day that changed everything.  Not only the transition from BC to AD, but we came to be able to see our Savior, and know that God loved us so much that He took flesh to be able to be with us, walk with us, touch us, in a way He hadn’t before, not even in the Garden of Eden.  Waiting is hard, but may we be attentive these last eleven or so hours so that we may fully celebrate the Nativity of our Lord Jesus Christ in the flesh, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit live and reign for ever and ever.  Amen.

"With What Shall I Come Before the Lord?"

Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

The study of Canon Law, the law of the Church, is one of the least popular disciplines for priests to study after they have been ordained.  Recently, Bishop Boyea appointed one of my good priest friends, Fr. David Fons, to study Canon Law in the University of St. Thomas in the City (more commonly referred to as the Angelicum) in Rome.  Bishop Boyea’s two other choices were either Fr. Gary or Fr. Todd Koenigsknecht, the twins from Fowler who were ordained a couple of years ago.  They were very happy when Bishop Boyea chose Fr. David.  I joked with Fr. David that he should tell Frs. Gary and Todd: “Someday, and that day may never come, I’ll call upon you to do a service for me,” quoting the famous line at the beginning of the movie “The Godfather.”

We don’t have to be in the mafia to want to do something kind for those who do something for us.  We hear about the Prophet Elisha who is taken care of by a woman of influence as she gives him room on the roof “with a bed, table, chair, and lamp.”  And without her asking, Elisha wants to do something for her to repay her generosity.  And he promises her that she will conceive a son with her husband, since she was childless and her husband was an older man.

Jesus Himself in our Gospel talks about how those who serve the servants of God will receive their reward: 

“Whoever receives a prophet because he is a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward, and whoever receives a righteous man because he is a righteous man will receive a righteous man’s reward.  And whoever gives only a cup of cold water to one of these little ones to drink because the little one is a disciple–amen, I say to you, he will surely not lose his reward.”

Now, this isn’t a homily about trying to butter Father Anthony up in order to get something in return.  I may call my bulletin article Don Antonio’s Dispatch, but I’m not Don Corleone.  You, my parishioners, my family, are very generous, but you’ll never hear me say, “Someday, and that day may never come, I’ll call upon you to do a service for me.”

If we really think about it, we have received everything from Jesus.  I dare you to think about one thing, other than your sins, that you have not received from God.  Your talents–from God; your family, spouse, and children–from God; your house–God gave you the talents that helped you find a job that paid you that helped you to get the house, so from God; this building–it was built by the generosity of our parishioners who went before us, and some still here, who paid for it with the money they made from the jobs they worked using the talents they received…you guess it, from God; your priest–some of you might be saying from the devil, but I was sent here by Bishop Boyea, who, when it comes to parish assignments, speaks for God.  Everything except our sin, which is when we try to do things on our own without God, is a gift to us from God.  We are in God’s debt.  There is no two ways about it.  We owe everything to God.  So how can we repay God?

One of the choral anthems played at my first Mass of Thanksgiving and at both my installations as pastor is based on Micah 6:6-8: 

With what shall I come before the Lord, and bow before God most high?  Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old?  Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, with myriad streams of oil?  Shall I give my firstborn for my crime, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?  You have been told, O mortal, what is good, and what the Lord requires of you: Only to do justice and to love goodness, and to walk humbly with your God.

But Jesus, as He so often does, raises the stakes.  He says that we must give Him everything of who we are.  If we love even our family more than Jesus, then we are not worthy of the gifts He has given me.  Only if we give away our life to Him will we find it.

And in this Mass we have the opportunity to do exactly that, at least as a beginning to our week.  Every Mass we are invited to offer all of who we are–our joys, sorrows, excitements, fears, job, family, vacation, and all that has happened since the last time we went to Mass–and unite it with the bread and the wine that is offered to God and changed into the Body and Blood of Jesus.  I know I’ve said that before, but have we done that?  Have we really put ourselves into what is offered on the altar?  I can tell you that when I do that, especially if I have something heavy on my heart, then as I hold the host in my hands and say, “This is my Body,” and as I hold the chalice in my hands and say, “This is my Blood,” there is a great weight lifted from my shoulders and I almost want to cry because of the great gift of freedom that Jesus gives me as I give Him my all.  And then God transforms it and gives it back to me as something that no longer weighs me down, but that gives me life.  But it’s not just for the tough stuff; it also applies to our joys.  And then, having given God our all in the Mass, we are then much more likely to give Him our all during the week. 

You might think that this is just my shtick as a guy who studied the liturgy–the Mass and the Sacraments.  But I truly believe it.  Give your all to Jesus, because He has already given His all for you.  And He doesn’t want a favor or a service like a mafia don.  The only thing that Jesus wants the thing only you can provide: you.

Duh-duh-dunt, Duh-duh-dunt

Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            If you are in college or professional sports, there are six sounds you want to hear: duh-duh-dunt, duh-duh-dunt.  That’s the little sound clip that plays on ESPN Sports Center when a great play has been made.  It’s the sign that the television sports authority has noticed what you have done.  And sometimes, in middle school or high school, teammates or fans will chant that little jingle to say that the previous play was amazing.

            In sports, as in much of life, we want to give credit when we something really good happen, and receive credit when we do something good.  It probably stretches back when our parents taught us to thank people or applaud when something great had happened, especially in certain contexts.  With the advent of Facebook and Twitter, that has certainly become much easier to click “like” or “share,” or “favorite” a particular tweet.

            The disciples of the Pharisees along with the Herodians (those who supported King Herod) tried to trap Jesus in today’s Gospel about the interaction between the state (what is Caesar’s) and the religion (what is God’s).  And many priests, especially at this time of year, preach on the principles that every Catholic should think and pray about as they approach the polls so that their vote truly advances what is good for every human person, especially as enlightened through the Gospel.  However, I want to focus, not on “‘repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar,’” but on “‘and to God what belongs to God.’” 

            What does belong to God?  We probably certainly think about our gifts and talents: the things we do well.  But if those gifts and talents also helped us to get our job, then that is given to us by God.  We may think of our families: the place where we learned the faith and had the love of God made present in a very clear way.  Maybe sometimes you think that a particular sibling might be from the devil by the way they treat you, but they come from parents, who received their life from God, so they belong to God as well, and are not from Satan.  We could spend all day thinking about the things that we have that belong to God: life, home, family, pets, food, clothing, etc., etc., etc.  In summary, everything that we have is a gift from God.  Without God willing us into existence at each nanosecond, we would not be.  God gives us everything.  So if we are to give to God what belongs to God, then are we to give Him everything?

            St. Augustine and St. Thomas both examine the word religion, and where it comes from.  St. Augustine, though his is not the only explanation, tracks the word root from the Latin, ligare, to bind, just as ligaments connect bone to bone.  Religion is the virtue whereby we are bound to God, and, as St. Thomas notes, give God what is His due, which is why religion is considered an aspect of the virtue of justice.  God has given us so much, and so we are bound to give Him something back.  But what are we to give Him?

            The Prophet Micah asks this very question:

With what shall I come before the Lord, and bow before God most high?  Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old?  Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, with myriad streams of oil?  Shall I give my firstborn for my crime, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?  You have been told, O mortal, what is good, and what the Lord requires of you: Only to do justice and to love goodness, and to walk humbly with your God.

Jesus expands on that when He says to give God what belongs to God.  But really, what more is there than justice, goodness, and humility?  Doing those things means that we are giving our all to God.  And we are giving our all to God the Father, who gave His Firstborn, His Beloved, not for His sin, but for ours!

            When we practice our religion, our faith, we are practicing giving God what is His due.  Part of that is coming to Mass each Sunday.  So often I hear the complaint, “But I don’t get anything out of Mass!”  Now, that’s patently false, because we get to hear the Word of God and, if we are in a state prepared to receive Holy Communion, we get to have union with the same Son of God who died for us to save us from sin and death!  But, and this may be more important, Mass isn’t about what we get out of it.  Getting something out of Mass as we do is simply, as the youth say, gravy.  Mass is the time when we get the opportunity to give back a little for the immeasurable amount He has given to us.  Yes, Mass may not always be entertaining (it’s not supposed to be), but is it too much to give God one hour each week to give Him worship, even if it’s not our favorite activity?  Or do we walk out immediately after Holy Communion simply because we’ve grown tired and have more important things to do, like go for breakfast at Big Boy, take a nap, and/or watch the Lions try to turn a great win into a bitter loss?  Sometimes there are legitimate reasons to leave early, but we should be careful lest those exceptions become the norm. 

            But our religion, our giving back to God what is His, does not end in this building.  What we do on Sundays is meant to inspire, nourish, and energize us to take to that faith, that religion, into our daily life.  Going to Mass is not the end of our faith.  It is only the beginning!  And by daily prayer, weekly reading Scripture, acts of kindness and charity, we give back a little to show God how much we appreciate the everything He has given us.

            This week, give back to God: read 1 chapter of Matthew’s Gospel; pray 1 Our Father each day; do one random act of kindness to a fellow employee or student.  God has given us everything.  What we will give Him in return?