A Polyvalent Prophecy

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

    In one scene in the “Star Wars” prequel movie “Revenge of the Sith” (Episode III, for those keeping track), there is an interaction between Obi Wan Kenobi, Mace Windu, and Yoda, all Jedi masters as they talk about Anakin’s assignment to spy on Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, due to a concern about how much power he is holding for himself.  Master Windu doesn’t trust Anakin (which turns out to be a good intuition, as Anakin, turned Darth Vader, will kill Master Windu).  Obi Wan asks, “With all due respect, Master, is he not the chosen one?  Is he not to destroy the Sith and bring balance to the force?”  Mace responds, “So the prophecy says.”  Yoda then chimes in, “A prophecy that misread could have been.”  Of course, for Star Wars fans, we know that Anakin’s son, Luke, will turn his father back to the light, and Darth Vader will kill Emperor Palpatine and bring balance to the force.
    We hear the prophecy of Isaiah today in our first reading, and we likely immediately direct that prophecy to Jesus.  And that is a fair reading.  Jesus is the servant who reveals the glory of God, who brings back Israel to her God, and is the light to the nations, as Simeon will say almost verbatim at the Presentation of the Lord, “A light to reveal you to the nations and the glory of your people Israel.”
    But while this prophecy is not misread, when prophecies talk about Christ, they can also refer to us.  And this makes sense, since through Holy Baptism God unites us to Christ and makes us members of Christ’s Mystical Body, the Church.  With the power of the Holy Spirit, given to us in Baptism and poured out afresh into us through Confirmation, God calls us to show His glory, and gather all His lost children back to Him.  God makes us a light to the nations to proclaim His salvation, a light that we should not hide under a bushel basket, but let shine so that others may come to know Christ and His salvation.

An icon of St. John the Baptist

    We do this by living like St. John the Baptist.  Yes, God called the Precursor to point out the Lamb of God on the banks of the River Jordan, and to call people to repentance because the Kingdom of God is at hand.  But that is our call, too.  God calls us to prepare the way for the Lord.  God calls us to point out Jesus, the Lamb of God, wherever we see Him.  As disciples of the Lord, we should recognize the way that He works, both from our knowledge of Scripture and the teachings of the Church, but also through our own experiences of how God has worked in and through us.  For someone who is not Catholic or maybe not even Christian, our understanding of Christ and how He works can help others believe in Him.  
    But God does not only call us to be like St. John the Baptist.  He calls us to be like St. Paul the Apostle, called by Christ Jesus by the will of God.  God may not call us to travel around as much as St. Paul, or even to write letters like St. Paul (though sometimes God can call us to communicate what God is saying through writing), but through Confirmation we have all been called to be an apostle.  An apostle in the ancient Greek world was like an emissary or ambassador, one who spoke for a person with authority, from the combination of the Greek words 𝛼𝜋𝜊, meaning off or forth, and 𝜎𝜏𝜀𝜆𝜆𝜀𝜄𝜈, meaning to send.  We should see ourselves as emissaries of the grace and peace of God, bringing it to those we meet by what we say and by what we do.  
    Too often, I think we can fall into the trap of thinking that all those holy things happened a long time ago.  St. John the Baptist was just a particular guy for his particular time.  St. Paul was just a particular guy for his particular time.  Or even that Jesus was so unique that no one can be like Him.  True, God does call people for particular times, and Jesus, as the Son of God, uniquely fulfills God’s prophecies about how He would save His people.  But God has made us for these times.  And God calls us to continue to complete the work of Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit.  The world is not yet how it should be.  The Kingdom of God has not finished installing in our world.  Can we do it ourselves?  No.  But with the foundation of the power of the Holy Spirit, and armed with the Gospel of Christ and the teachings Christ has made clear through His Mystical Body, the Church, we can cooperate in the work of salvation and bring Christ to full stature, as St. Paul says.
    It is as St. Teresa of Avila says:
 

Christ has no body but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are his body.
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.
 

Will we continue the mission of Christ?  Will we, also, fulfill the prophecies of old so that the glory of God can be revealed and His salvation can reach the ends of the earth?

It Really Happened

Fourth Sunday of Advent
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Modern American society struggles with accepting some historical facts.  Part of this could stem from the things that began as conspiracy theories and turned out to be true.  But there exists a certain suspicion of facts that cannot be verified to a modern American’s mind.
    This same phenomenon existed at the time of Christ, not so much as when came to history but as it applied to theology.  All over the western world people had told stories about the gods and goddesses and their encounters with people.  Usually, the pagan deities were basically exaggerated versions of humans: in their power; in their strength; in their violence; in their lust.  But for some time, a skepticism had crept in especially among the well-educated that the gods didn’t exist at all.  Yes, everyone kept the festivals, but fewer and fewer actually believed in the realities behind the festivals.  Divinity especially came to be doubted when the emperors started to claim divine status for themselves even though, demonstrably enough, they were mortal.
    In the midst of this doubt, St. Luke describes the real, historical fact of God-made-man.  He starts out today’s Gospel passage: “In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, Pontius Pilate being governor of Judea, and Herod being tetrarch of Galilee, and Philip his brother tetrarch or Inure and the country of Trachonitis, and Lysanias tetrarch of Abilene, under the high priests Annas and Caiphas.”  Luke points out that this is no pagan myth that goes back before anyone could witness it, or where the witnesses are all dead.  He points to a particular time in a particular place where St. John the Baptist begins his mission to prepare the way for the Lord by preaching a baptism of repentance.  His thesis stands thus: Jesus is real; just as real as Caesar, Pontius Pilate, Herod, Philip, Lysanias, Annas, and Caiphas.  

Icon of St. John the Baptist

    And it matches the preaching of the Precursor of the Lord: God is real, and He is finally fulfilling His promise to come among us and save us, so get right with God, because our salvation is at hand.  John wasn’t only telling the well-known Jewish stories about how God promised to send a redeemer who would conquer sin, as Genesis foretold; or how God would raise up a prophet like Moses to whom everyone would need to listen, as Deuteronomy said; or how God would install a Davidic king who would rule for all ages, as 2 Samuel said.  John didn’t simply point back to vague prophecies that waited to be fulfilled.  He told the people that now was the time of salvation, as the long-awaited Messiah came.  
    It is good for us to hear Luke’s account, and to remind ourselves that God is not trying to hide anything from us in way of history, and that our belief in God is not some long-ago wish that bears no relation to reality.  God is real, and the Second Divine Person of the Blessed Trinity came to us to redeem us at a particular time in a particular place.  And even though we were not there, we can trust those who were.
    But Luke also benefits us because Christ will return in glory.  And I think that sometimes we can treat that return like the first-century Jews treated the prophecies about the Messiah: yes, they’re real, but they won’t happen in our time.  We profess, each week, “Et iterum venturus est cum gloria judicare vivos et mortuos;” “He will come again with glory to judge the living and the dead.”  But do we really believe it?  Do we act like it could happen any day, which it could?  Or, do we think that because it didn’t happen in the time of our parents or grandparents, it won’t happen in ours?  
    Advent comes each year to remind us that Christ will return in glory, for which we should be ready.  God reminds us not to let our hearts grow weary because the Bridegroom seems delayed, and not to act as if he’s not coming, like the foolish bridesmaids.  Rather, we are to wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Savior, as St. Paul writes to St. Titus.  
 

  It’s easy for us to get distracted.  We get distracted in Advent because we have Christmas parties to attend, presents to buy, a house to decorate, etc.  We get distracted in life because so many other things–family, a job, or the lack thereof, clothing, food and drink–all seem more real and more pressing.  But nothing is more pressing than our relationship with God.  Our hunger and thirst will pass away; we will outgrow our clothes or the fabric will break down; one day we won’t work; even our family will not always be with us on earth.  But God is eternal.  And, in the end, we will either spend eternity with Him (even if it includes some purification in Purgatory) in Heaven or eternity without Him in Hell.  And part of that calculation will connect to how we prepared for Him to return.  
    Does this mean we live perfectly?  Or that we are scrupulous about every small fault or failing?  No.  But it means we make confession a regular, even monthly or weekly, part of our life.  It means that we give our hearts and minds as best as we can during this Mass to worship God.  It means that we care for the poor, the sick, the suffering, the immigrant, the infant in the womb, the ailing senior citizen, and all those who have no one to rely on but God and His faithful.  It means that we read Scripture regularly and pray with our families.  
    In these last few days of Advent, may we recommit ourselves to making ourselves ready for the return of Christ in glory.  May today’s Gospel instill in us that Christ will, once again, change the course of history with His return, just as He did in His Incarnation some 2,000 years ago.  Who with the Father and the Holy Spirit live and reign for ever and ever.  Amen. 

Hoping for Blanton's Gold

Second Sunday of Advent

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]  In October, when I travelled with two other priests and my two barbers down to Kentucky, we had an interesting experience.  It was Wednesday.  My two barbers had gone back to Michigan, because they could only take a couple of days off of work.  So the two other priests, Fr. Brian and Fr. Paul, and I were eating breakfast.  One of the barbers, Zach, texted me to let me know that he had seen that Buffalo Trace was selling Blanton’s Gold, a special kind of Blanton’s bourbon, that day.  It’s often hard enough to find Blanton’s in Michigan, let alone the gold variety.  
    But it was 8:30 a.m., and we three priests were finishing up breakfast in Shepherdsville, Kentucky, about one hour away from Frankfort and Buffalo Trace, and Buffalo Trace opened at 9.  I asked Frs. Brian and Paul if they wanted to try to get some Blanton’s Gold, even though they probably wouldn’t have a lot to sell, there would likely be lots of people already there, or quickly arriving, and we had a 10 a.m. distillery tour that we would have to cancel.  They agreed we should try.
    We got in Fr. Brian’s Jeep, and realized, as we got on the freeway, that we had around 53 miles worth of gas, and Buffalo Trace was around 59 miles away.  So we had to stop and quickly put in 3 gallons of gas, just to make sure we didn’t run out of gas in our effort to get there.  I don’t know how fast Fr. Brian drove, and I didn’t want to know, but we made good time.  When we made it, there was no line, which made me think they were all sold out.  We walked hurriedly into the check-in building, and said we just wanted to go to the gift shop.  The person working the desk said that they had E.H. Taylor and Weller Special Reserve that day.  And then he paused, and continued, “And we also have something else special, but I don’t know if there’s any left.  We just received a red warning, which means that they’ve put out the rest of the supply on the floor, and they won’t be restocking once it’s gone.”  We walked like professional Olympic power-walkers to the gift shop, I almost slipped on the wet floor once I got inside the building, and there, before our eyes, were about 30 more bottles of Blanton’s Gold (limit one per person).  We had hoped that we could get some before it sold out, and we achieved the object of our hope, with all the bottles selling out within 30 minutes of our arrival.

    Advent is a season of hope, not for Blanton’s Gold, but for Christ.  We hear St. Paul tell the Romans today: “Whatever was written previously was written for our instruction, that by endurance and by the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.”  During Advent we enter in to the hope of the Chosen People in those centuries of waiting for the Messiah.  We enter in to the hope that children so wonderfully exemplify as we wait to celebrate Christmas.  We enter in to the hope of Christ’s return in glory at the end of time.  We do a lot of hoping during this Advent season.
    And before us stands the great prophet of hope, St. John the Baptist.  He is the one who prepares the way for the Lord, and informs the people that their hope is about to be fulfilled as the Lamb of God comes to them.  He calls others to repentance so that they are ready to attain the object of their hope, the Messiah.
    But what is hope?  “Hope,” the Catechism tells us, “is the theological virtue by which we desire the kingdom of heaven and eternal life as our happiness, placing our trust in Christ’s promises and relying not on our own strength, but on the help of the grace of the Holy Spirit.”  The Catechism continues, 
 

The virtue of hope responds to the aspiration of happiness which God has placed in the heart of every man; it takes up the hopes that inspire men’s activities and purifies them so as to order them to the Kingdom of heaven; it keeps man from discouragement; it sustains him during times of abandonment; it opens up his heart in expectation of eternal beatitude.

Hope, in its highest form, points us toward heaven and eternal salvation.  Hope keeps us going when the going gets tough.  Hope reminds us that this world is not all there is, but that all will be made right when Christ returns in glory.  
    But hope means that we do not yet possess what we desire.  St. Paul, earlier in his letter to the Romans, writes, “Now hope that sees for itself is not hope.  For who hopes for what one sees?”  I didn’t hope for Blanton’s Gold once I put it in my cart; I possessed it.  Hope carried us on as we traveled I-64 east bound and down, as the song goes.  

    And because we do not yet possess eternal life, we can doubt, which is the vice opposite hope.  We wonder if the waiting is really worth it, and if our reward will ever get here, like a child who wonders if 25 December will ever get here.  Even St. John the Baptist seems to have had some doubts.  After our Lord began His public ministry and Herod had arrested John, John sent messengers to ask Christ: “‘Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?’”  Even while Christ was on earth, the Kingdom was not established in its fulness.  But already, signs were present that it was breaking into the world, and that Christ would install it: “‘The blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead rise again, [and] the poor have the good news preached to them.’”  
    So, in our own time, there are signs to us of the Kingdom’s approach.  More and more people come to faith and Holy Baptism; they receive strength to walk towards Christ and lead others through Confirmation; God cleans us of sin through confession; God heals our lack of openness to His Word; we rise to new life through Holy Baptism; and those who know they need God do not go away disappointed.  God continues to bring about His kingdom, if we have eyes to see.  St. Theresa of Avila encourages us:
 

Hope, O my soul, hope.  You know neither the day nor the hour.  Watch carefully, for everything passes quickly, even though your impatience makes doubtful what is certain, and turns a very short time into a long one.  Dream that the more you struggle, the more you prove the love that you bear your God, and the more you will rejoice one day with your Beloved, in a happiness and rapture that can never end.

    So, during this Advent season, may we continue to hope.  May it help us persevere when doubts creep it.  May hope strengthen us to keep walking when the pilgrimage through this vale of tears seems too difficult.  And may our hope be rewarded when, at our death or the return of Christ in glory, we see the object of our hope, God, face to face [the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, who lives and reigns for ever and ever.  Amen].

The Light

Solemnity of the Epiphany of the Lord
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]  Probably most of the time when we think of the Epiphany, we think about giving gifts, especially the gifts that the magi gave to Christ: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  In some countries, Epiphany is the day that people exchange gifts more than Christmas.  And the Christmas carol, “The Twelve Days of Christmas” are actually about the twelve days after Christmas, and sing about giving gifts leading up the Epiphany.  

    And focusing on gifts at the Epiphany is well and good.  However, there is another aspect to the Epiphany that we probably miss: the theme of light.  The word epiphany finds its root in the Greek word 𝜙𝛼𝜄𝜈𝜔, which means to reveal or to shine.  We hear it in John 1:5 [every Sunday]: “the light shines (𝜙𝛼𝜄𝜈𝜀𝜄) in the darkness.”  We hear it in Isaiah, chapter sixty, our (first) reading: “the glory of the Lord shines upon you.”  And the star that the magi follow shines upon the place where they could find the King of the Jews.  We hear it in the Collect, the opening prayer: “O God, who on this day revealed your Only Begotten Son to the nations by the guidance of a star.”  Light is as big a part of this day as giving gifts.
    And as we think of Christ as He reveals Himself as the Light of the World, we see the light growing.  Think of Christ like a candle: first it was simply one light.  As the Blessed Virgin Mary conceived Him in her virginal womb at the Annunciation, her candle was lit.  As Elizabeth and St. John the Baptist in her womb recognized the Lord at the Visitation, their candles were lit.  At the Nativity, the angels shared the light of Christ with the shepherds.  And now, as the magi come to visit, seeking by the light of a star the new born King of the Jews, they receive the light of Christ, and then take it back with them to the east, whence they came.  
    The light allows us to see well.  So light is connected with truth, which helps us understand the way the world works.  When we know the truth, we speak of being enlightened.  And besides the visit of the magi, the Epiphany also celebrates Christ shining during His baptism as well as at the wedding at Cana.  In these three events, others come to know the truth that Jesus is no mere mortal: the magi as they bring their gifts of gold for a king, frankincense for God, and myrrh for one who is to be buried; the people at the River Jordan as the Holy Spirit descends and the voice of the Father is heard; the disciples and servants as they realize that Christ has changed water into wine.  Pope St. John Paul II, wrote an Encyclical called Veritatis Splendor, the splendor (or illumination) of the truth, which is also a definition of beauty.  
    So for us today, Christ invites us to receive His light.  When we are baptized, the priest lights a candle from the Paschal Candle, the candle that represents Christ, and are invited to walk in the light.  Christ shares His light with us, as He did with the Blessed Mother, St. Elizabeth and St. John the Baptist, the shepherds, the magi, and the Apostles and disciples.  “The light shines in the darkness,” and with each person who chooses to live in the light, in the truth that God has revealed through His Church, more people see more clearly how true happiness can be found.  
    It is like at the Easter Vigil, at the beginning rites called the lucenarium, the ritual of light.  At first the Paschal Candle alone shines in the darkness of the church.  Then the priest lights his candle from the Christ Light.  Then the rest of the people begin to receive the light, until the entire church shines with the light of Christ that He has shared with others, one by one.
    Our Lord tells us that people don’t light candles to put them under a bushel basket.  So we should not hide the light that Christ has given to us.  Christ invites us to share that light with others.  He gives us grace, a form of His life and light, to allow us to live holy lives and follow Him.  But He also wants us to share that grace with others by the way we speak to them and the way we treat them.  King Herod remained in darkness because He feared the Lord as a threat to his earthly power.  Herod plunged himself deeper in darkness as he tried to snuff out the Light of Christ as young child and killed numerous innocent children, which we celebrated on 28 December.  When we don’t live as a disciple, especially when we commit mortal sins, we also go deeper and deeper into darkness.
    Instead, though, Christ invites us to love others in word and deed, and to share the Gospel with them in word and deed.  Maybe it’s a donation made to a food pantry, or, even better, time actually spent with the poor at a food pantry, serving them food and talking with them as we would talk to Christ.  Maybe it’s hugging a person who had a rough day.  Maybe it’s asking someone to pray with them after they tell us about a family member who has gone on the wrong path, or a scary medical procedure, or even just when they are tired of doing their job.  Maybe it’s inviting a person to come to Mass with you, or sharing an important Gospel passage that helps you to make sense of life.  In these ways and more, we take the light that Christ gave to us at our baptism, and we share it with others.  Sometimes the other person won’t be accepting of the light of Christ, or their light will blow out due to the winds of fear, pride, or error, but at least we did our best to share it with them, and maybe it will take a few times for the light to catch, like it sometimes takes a few strikes before a match begins to burn.  
    So as we celebrate Epiphany, may we remember and put into practice the words of our Lord from the Gospel: your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father, who with the Son and the Holy Spirit is God, for ever and ever.  Amen.

Muppets and Making Ready

Second Sunday of Advent

    Growing up I was (and still am) a fan of the Muppets, the cloth puppets that Jim Henson created.  And so, during this Advent season, my mind turns to the Muppet adaptation of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens, called, “The Muppet Christmas Carol.”  Gonzo plays the part of Charles Dickens, with Rizzo the Rat assisting him.  Kermit the Frog is Bob Cratchit, with his wife, Miss Piggy, and their kids, including Robin playing Tiny Tim.  Michael Caine plays Ebenezer Scrooge.
    On the evening of Christmas Eve, Kermit and his fellow accountants (who are played by rats) close up the shop and start on their way home to get ready for Christmas, singing a song entitled, “One More Sleep ’til Christmas.”  They even ice skate in the street, and then Kermit makes his way home where Miss Piggy prepare the Christmas feast (meager as it was for the Cratchit family).
    As the Gospel introduces us to St. John the Baptist today, we continue to make our Christmas preparations, though we have more than one more sleep ’til Christmas.  St. John the Baptist is Jesus’ cousin, and fulfills the prophecy of the Prophet Isaiah as he cries out to prepare the way of the Lord and make straight his paths.  Isaiah also says that the valleys will be filled, and the mountains and hills will be leveled out, so that the road to God is flat and easily traversed.  

    So, do we listen to St. John and the Prophet Isaiah?  How do we prepare for the return of Christ and the celebration of His Nativity at Christmas?  What are the paths to God like in our lives?  
    First, how are we preparing for Christ, whether His return in glory, or the celebration of His Nativity?  Are we preparing?  It is so easy just to treat Advent like any other time of the year, but colder, darker, and with more parties.  There is so much to do, from decorating the house for Christmas, to buying presents, to attending work or personal Christmas parties, that the season can fly by.  In fact, as of today, there are only seventeen more days until Christmas, or slightly more than two weeks.  
    The best way to prepare for Christ is to prepare our hearts.  We do that by making a little more time for prayer each day.  Maybe it’s a daily Advent reflection, or simply an extra five minutes of prayer in the morning or before you go to bed.  But one of the best ways to prepare for Christ is to speak with Him about how life is going, and listen to what He says to you.  
    Another good way is to read Scripture.  In the Bible God reveals who He is and who we should be.  If do not familiarize ourselves with the Word of God in the Bible, then we’ll miss out on knowing God and knowing ourselves.  And while the Bible can be a bit overwhelming if you try to read it from cover to cover, during Advent, read the Book of the Prophet Isaiah in the Old Testament.  Isaiah prophesies a lot about the Messiah, prophecies that Christ fulfilled when He was conceived and born.  And while some of what Isaiah says needs some explanation, much of it is pretty accessible.
    As for valleys that Isaiah prophesied: what are the low points of our life?  I would suggest that the valleys in our lives are sins and sinful habits.  During this season of Advent, God wants to fill them in with His grace so that they no longer bring us low.  Advent is always a good time to go to confession.  But, in addition, look more deeply at your most common sins, or maybe the most serious sins, and try to understand why those sins are so tempting to you, and how you fall into them.  When it comes to our sins, the Devil always shows his hand in showing us where we like to fall.  Maybe it’s overeating; maybe it’s sexual sins by ourselves or with another; maybe it’s gossiping or detracting from someone.  Whatever our most common or most grievous sins, ask yourself when sin seems most appealing for you, and then ask for God’s grace during those times, and make a plan to distract yourself during those times from sins with something else that is good.
    As for mountains and hills: these are the times of pride in our life.  How does pride keep us from God?  Pride is a raising of ourselves in our own eyes or the eyes of another not in accord with God’s will.  When we have pride, we put ourselves in the place of God and unreasonably focus on our own good, rather than the good that God is, or the good that others need.  Humbling ourselves doesn’t mean pretending we’re no good, but it does mean not primarily going after honors or attention.  Humility means allowing God to be God and taking our cue from Him, rather than deciding that we know best and that the world should operate according to our wants and desires.  
    As we prepare for Christ’s return and the celebration of His Nativity at Christmas, St. John the Baptist invites us to make sure we are ready.  Are we praying daily, and maybe praying a bit more during Advent?  Do we read God’s word, especially maybe the Book of the Prophet Isaiah during Advent?  Are we seeking forgiveness of sins, and even trying to get rid of habits of sin?  Do we seek humility and not focus so much on ourselves?  All these ways, and more, are great ways to prepare for Christ so that God will bless us, everyone.

Being the Best Man

Third Sunday of Advent

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

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

John, Pumbaa, and a Street Preacher

 Third Sunday of Advent

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]. For the first week of Advent I focused on waiting.  Last week I focused on preparing.  This week I’d like to focus on St. John the Baptist, who, as I mentioned last week, prepares the way for the Lord’s coming.
    Honestly, I always get the timeline with St. John the Baptist messed up in my head.  Because we hear about the Baptizer so much in Advent, I always picture him preaching at the Jordan before Christ was even born.  Of course, the Scriptures are clear that John was about six months older than our Lord.  So John’s preaching in the wilderness happens sometime around the Year of our Lord 30.  
    The Precursor, as he is also called, demonstrated an extreme care for doing God’s will, even others did not experience that care as normal.  John preached and baptized in the northern part of the Promised Land (the modern-day site is in Jordan and Israel, with the Jordan River acting as a natural border).  He wore camel-hair clothing and ate locusts (I’m sure Pumbaa would chime in that they’re delicious and nutritious and taste just like chicken).  
    People were drawn to this fire-brand in the wilderness.  The Forerunner (another way of referring to St. John the Baptist) drew many to his message.  Average people came to see him and hear him preach repentance, which they did, and many sought baptism.  Even soldiers (those would have been Roman soldiers) went to hear his message.  As, as the Gospel of John relates, this attracted the priests and Pharisees to examine who this character was.  They wondered if he might be Elijah (prophesied by Malachi to come before the Messiah), or even the Prophet that Moses spoke about in Deuteronomy.  But John simply identifies himself as the fulfillment of the prophecy of Isaiah, the voice of one crying in the wilderness to prepare the way of the Lord.
    I often tend to think of John like a street preacher.  I can’t say that I find street preachers usually an example of attracting people to the Gospel.  I remember one street preacher who was preaching as I was walking back from an MSU football game when I was a priest in East Lansing.  He was telling people to repent from their drunkenness and debauchery.  Yelling is probably a more accurate word than telling.  As I walked past I looked at him, and he must have noticed my glance, because he then said something to the effect of, “And don’t think your collar will save you from the fires of hell!”  Perhaps needless to say, I walked on by him, as everyone else did the same.

Statue of St. John the Baptist in Ein Kerem

    Whatever that street preacher lacked, John certainly didn’t.  Even with his strange clothing and diet, people knew that they were not living they way they should, and his message encouraged many to repent and be baptized.  This baptism wasn’t for the forgiveness of sins, but prepared for the baptism of Christ, a baptism the Precursor himself described of the Holy Spirit and fire.  
    I think the question for us as we rejoice while celebrating Gaudete Sunday (that Advent is more than half over), is how we prepare others to receive Christ.  John basically set the table for our Lord, and when the Savior appeared on the scene, John faded away, as he noted, referring to Christ, “He must increase, I must decrease.”  Yes, we hear about him with some disciples while he is in prison, under the watchful eye of King Herod, but John’s importance is only to prepare for Jesus’ coming and manifestation.  
    One of the struggles when trying to bring others to Christ is to make it about us.  I’m obviously not opposed to personal stories that hopefully help connect you to the Gospel.  But I try to make sure that, by what I do and what I say, you can grow closer to Christ.  It’s not about me; it’s all about Him.  We are drawn to certain personalities more than others, and to the extent that they bring us closer to Christ, praise God!  But how it easy can it be to leave people only connected to ourselves, rather than moving them to the Redeemer.
    All of us are called to draw others to Christ, to prepare them to receive the Lord.  It’s not just the jobs of priests, deacons, and consecrated men and women.  In many ways, the witness of the lay faithful can bear more fruit, because your life mirrors other laypersons.  It could be the person at work, the members of your family, or even strangers on the road or in the grocery store.  Does the way you act and the words you say prepare them to hear the Gospel?  Or does it lead to scratching of heads because others know that we’re Catholic, but we’re not acting too saintly?  Are we patient with the waitress who is overworked and taking a little longer to get our food, or maybe even messing up the order?  Do we snap at the customer service representative on the phone, or give the one-finger salute to a bad driver on the road?
    Parents, in particular, have the special vocation of preparing others for Christ by demonstrating what it means to live the faith by the way they treat each other as spouses, and their children.  Do you make time for daily prayer?  Do you speak with respect to your spouse, and build him or her up?  Is discipline, which is necessary, done out of anger or out of love, and do the children know the difference?  While children will, eventually, make their own decisions about whether or not they will practice the faith (just like those who heard the Forerunner could choose to follow him and then follow the Lord, or could walk away and go back to their own lives), how the faith is lived out makes a huge difference.  This is true for the role mothers have (our moms are often so talented and sharing the faith with us), but is also true for fathers.  When dad practices the faith, the children are much more likely to continue to live the faith into adulthood.  
    John the Baptist had a particular vocation to prepare the way for Christ.  But God desires all of us to connect others with our Lord by the way we live, by the words we speak, especially, but not limited to, the way our family develops.  Are we leading people on winding roads away from God, or are we making straight the paths that lead to our God [the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen]?

Planning and Preparing

 Second Sunday of Advent

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.].  My best friend often teases me for how much I plan.  Just the other day in a text he said, “nobody plans like you do.”  And I do tend to plan and prepare.  As an example, September 2023 will see (if the Lord tarry) my 40th birthday, and I already have plans on how to celebrate and am preparing to execute those plans.
    Last week I preached about how Advent is a time of waiting.  Advent is also a time of preparing.  St. John the Baptist is the quintessential Advent figure, proclaiming, “Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths.”  As a Church, we prepare for three things during Advent: to celebrate Christmas, we prepare for Christ to come into our hearts each day, and we prepare for Christ to return in glory.  As individuals we are probably preparing for family to come over at some point in the next month, perhaps even buying some food now; we clean our house and get it ready for a Christmas tree (real or fake) and the Christmas decorations; we make lists of presents we want and presents we need to get for those we love.  
    Of the three comings of Christ (2,000 years ago in Bethlehem, daily in our hearts, and at the end of time), the one that we probably default to at this time of year is the first Christmas, when Christ was born of the Virgin Mary in Bethlehem.  Perhaps we even think, especially as we just closed out the month of November, about Christ returning in glory and the final judgment.  But today I’d like to focus on preparing for Christ to come into our hearts today, and how we prepare for that.
    Because while the Incarnation was a unique event, as Christ took flesh in the womb of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and we could know about that Incarnation when He was born, Christ, in an analogous sense, becomes incarnate every day, as we offer to God ordinary bread and wine, and, by the power of the Holy Spirit and through the ministry of the priest, Christ changes it into His Body and Blood.  Each Sunday is a little Easter, as we celebrate the Resurrection, but each Mass is like a little Christmas, when God miraculously takes flesh before our eyes and we can look upon the God whom the heavens and earth cannot contain.
    Just like preparing for Christmas, there are practical ways that we get ready for Mass.  We get dressed (thank you for not coming to Mass without clothes!), hopefully donning nicer clothes than we would wear to go to a movie or a sporting event.  We make sure we don’t smell too gamey, and maybe comb or brush the hair, and maybe the ladies put on a little make-up.  If we have kids, we try to ensure that the socks match, the shoes are on the correct feet, and they won’t be too cold or too hot.  We leave (or should leave) so that we’re not walking into Mass after it has already begun, allowing a little time in case we catch every red light, or construction makes our detour from our regular route.  Those are all necessary preparations that we personally make for Mass, but which are altogether secular.  But how do we prepare ourselves spiritually?  Do we prepare ourselves spiritually?
    We can prepare for Mass by doing a good examination of conscience, and going to confession.  We especially need to go to confession if we are aware of mortal or grave sins, but we can also go even if we only have venial sins.  Allowing the Lord to cleanse us of our sins removes and obstacles that may get in the way of our reception of the Lord’s grace.  
    Preparation for Mass can also begin six days before Mass even begins.  Thanks to hand missals and the Internet, we probably always know what the readings will be for the following Sunday.  A great way to prepare is to read over the readings for Mass each day before the following Sunday.  Reading the Word of God is a great preparation, as the proclamation of the prophets was the same way the Chosen People were prepared for the Incarnation.  Reading something multiple times also helps us go deeper into the meaning of the sacred text.  And, if you have a child who is a bit squirmy and you have to step out, or if the homily is particularly boring, you can think about what you might say about those readings, and how God has spoken to you through the Word of God.
    Another proximate way of preparing is by fasting.  We are required to fast from all food and drink except water and medicine for 1 hour before receiving Holy Communion.  This means no gum, no walking in with a cup of coffee, or no other little food or drink delights.  The Communion fast prepares our body to hunger for the Eucharist.  It draws our mind and our body to the Body we will be receiving, the Body of our Lord.  Of course, this fast can be modified if our health requires some sustenance (such as those who are hypoglycemic, diabetic, or even simply pregnant).  But it can also be extended as a means of devotion.  Some of you remember when you had to fast for 3 hours before receiving Holy Communion, and a handful of you may even remember requiring the fast to begin at midnight (which is why the first meal of the day was usually had after Mass and was called breakfast–literally, breaking the fast).  I myself try not to eat any food before my first Mass of the day.
    On the day of Mass, proper preparation continues, as much as possible, by arriving at Mass before it’s scheduled to begin.  Again, with kids that can sometimes be tough, and even the best planning and preparation can sometimes give way to the practicalities of getting kids ready who may not always be helpful or enthused when it comes to going to Mass.  But generally, do we plan to arrive a little before Mass begins, or do we wander in sometime during the first reading, or second reading, or homily?
    Having arrived at Mass early, with whom do we spend that time?  There’s nothing wrong with catching up with friends before Mass, but God wants your time as well, and deserves it more than your friends.  Do you take time to quiet your heart, to make space for God’s voice, that so often comes in the silence by silent prayer before Mass?  There are a variety of prayers before Mass that one can say, or perhaps pray a decade of or an entire Rosary.  
    So often I hear the trite phrase, “I don’t get anything out of Mass.”  You might hear it as well.  I would encourage you to respond (of if you say it yourself, think on): “What did you do to get ready for Mass?”  Just like if we are not prepared for an event, we don’t get as much out of it, so with the Mass, if we have not prepared, we may not experience as many of the fruits as God desires for us.  You don’t necessarily have to be a planner like me, but make time to prepare to come to the celebration of the Passion of the Lord [who with the Father and the Holy Spirit is God, for ever and ever.  Amen].

An icon of St. John the Baptist from the place where he was hidden during the slaughter of the Holy Innocents

Maybe I Got it Wrong?

 Second Sunday of Advent

St. John the Baptist

     

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  It is generally a bad idea to try to get into the head of a saint and analyze his intentions, unless one is a saint oneself.  The saints operate with the will of God at the first and foremost of their minds, and for those who don’t operate that way, what they do can seem crazy or other worldly.  
    Having said that, and with the very real knowledge that I am not a saint, I was wondering what St. John the Baptist was thinking in the Gospel passage we heard today.  You have John, the cousin of our Lord, who pointed Him out as the Lamb of God, and who saw the dove descend upon Him at His Baptism, as the voice of the Father was heard, “This is my beloved Son.”  John says that he has found the bridegroom, and so rejoices.  It seems like John knows exactly who our Lord is.
    And yet, today’s Gospel, some time after the baptism having passed, it seems like John starts to question what had happened earlier.  “‘Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?’” John says.  And, at least from an earthly point of view, John’s confusion seems very rational.  After all, John is in prison, and little does he know, he’s about to lose his head.  This is probably not what John had in mind when he thought of the Messiah coming.  
    What did John think would happen?  Biblical scholars say that there were four expectations that Jews had about the Messiah: he would gather the tribes of Israel; he would cleanse the temple; he would destroy Israel’s enemies; and he would reign as king of the Gentiles.  So far, none of that seems to have happened from what John knows.  So John questions (we can say that because the evangelist says it) if maybe Jesus was a special person, but not the Messiah.  
    Of course, we know that our Lord is the Messiah.  We hear in the Gospels how Jesus not only cleanses the temple, but raises up a new temple, His Sacred Body, in the Resurrection.  In His Death, He destroys sin and death, the great enemy of God’s people, forever.  He gathers the Twelve as the new patriarchs of the tribes of the new Israel, the Church; and, as St. Paul talks about in our epistle, the Gentiles are gathered together under the reign of Christ the King.  
    But I’m willing to bet that we have had times where we can sympathize with John the Baptist.  We have recognized Christ as the Lord; we have felt His presence in our life; perhaps we have even seen miracles that He has worked for us or for friends and family.  But then something goes wrong; and then another something; and then life doesn’t happen exactly the way that we expect it to go.  And all the sudden, those experiences we have with the Lord get questioned, perhaps even doubted, and we’re wondering if we bet on the wrong horse.  
    To these questions, we can look to our Lord for the answer.  How does our Lord respond to John’s disciples?  Look to what He has done.  The blind see, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the dead are raised, and the poor have the Good News proclaimed to them.  God gives us clues that He is who He says He is, and it’s in what He accomplishes day by day.  We have only to be attentive to what is happening.
    God is not detached from our life.  It is very easy to fall into the deist view of God, that God is like a grand watch-maker, who put everything together and wound everything up, but then just lets it all go.  But God still interacts in the life of His People.  He does not simply watch from afar, but changes individuals lives.  In the house explosion that happened just six houses down from St. Pius X on the Monday before Thanksgiving, there is a story about a woman and her boyfriend who lived next-door to the house that exploded.  The boyfriend wanted to go out and do something fun, but the woman didn’t want to go out.  After her boyfriend kept asking her, she relented and they went out and about, only to find out minutes later, that the house next to theirs had exploded, and their home was destroyed.  The woman noted in her recounting that she just had this little voice telling her to go out, so she did.  And it changed her life.
    Sometimes we get so busy that we fail to hear that voice, or we hear it and act on it, but then forget that our conscience is the voice of God in our hearts.  We fail to recognize the works of God that are happening everyday.  Sometimes they get mentioned on the news, like with the woman who left her home shortly before it burned up, but more often than not they are not famous stories or publicized, but are in the daily moments of our life.  Advent is a perfect time for quiet reflection on those ways that God intervenes in our life in ways that can only be seen and heard for those who have eyes to see and ears to hear.
    During this Advent season, we should be making time for God in silence.  It could be in our Monday times of Adoration, or simply in a prayer corner in your home.  But wherever it is, we need silence, even just a couple of minutes, to be able to hear the voice of God and see how He operates in our life.  That may seem especially difficult with kids, but even kids need to nap, and that can be a perfect time to catch some quick time with God.  God knows you’re busy; He knows that you have family and work responsibilities.  But He asks for even just a few moments so that He can share His love with you, and help you to see what He is doing in your life.
    We all can have moments where we wonder what God is doing.  We don’t understand why something is happening in our life.  Do we pay attention to what God has done for us in the past, and what He promises for us in our future, beyond the present struggles?  Do we still trust in what has been revealed by God the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit?

What God Will Do For Us

 Second Sunday of Advent

    Last week I preached about how we prepare during Advent, both for Christmas and for the second coming of Christ.  We should still have that attitude of preparation in mind as we continue into this second week of Advent.  Our prayer, sacrifices, and almsgiving should be increased from usual so that we can be ready when Christ returns and when we celebrate His birth.  
    This week our readings remind us of what God is going to do.  God has begun a good work in us, and desires that, cooperating with Him, that work is brought to completion in Christ Jesus.  God desires that our love “increase ever more and more in knowledge and every kind of perception, to discern what is of value, so that [we] may be pure and blameless,” as St. Paul said in our second reading.
    We can often think that we are the ones who are doing most of the work.  And while our cooperation with God’s grace is necessary (we are not simply passive spectators in the process of our salvation), God does most of the work, and without God, holiness is impossible.  Without God we cannot be free from sin; without God we cannot hope to enter heaven; without God we cannot be the saints that He desires us to be.  God is always giving us what we need so that we can live as disciples of Jesus.
    First, God desires that we take off our robe of mourning and misery, and he puts on us the cloak of justice.  We heard this phrase in our first reading from the book of the prophet Baruch.  Baruch worked with the prophet Jeremiah.  He saw the destruction of Jerusalem, including the magnificent temple of Solomon, in 587 BC.  That would certainly be a reason to mourn and be miserable.  He also saw many of the Israelites be deported from Judea to Babylon, while others who were allowed to stay in Judea, despite God’s warning to the contrary, fled to Egypt.  Again, mourning and misery.  
    But God promises through Baruch to bring the people back, even carried like on a royal throne.  He promises to return them to the Promised Land, and to lower the mountains, and raise up the gorges.  This connects directly with our Gospel, where we heard about St. John the Baptist, “proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins,” the one about whom Isaiah prophesied who would prepare the way for the Lord, make straight his paths, lower every hill and mountain, and raise up the valleys.  And, importantly, Isaiah concludes, “all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”  
    While God did fulfill the promise through Baruch to bring the people back to their home after the Babylonian Exile beginning in 538 BC.  But this prophecy was meant for more than simply a literal reading.  God gives it a spiritual meaning which applies to us even today.
    First of all, what is the robe of mourning and misery?  It is sin.  We chose, in Adam and Eve, to disobey God and to cover ourselves in sin.  We usually think of Adam and Eve covering themselves up after they sinned, because of their shame of their own nakedness, and their lustful desire for the other.  So they sew fig leaves together for clothes, which were not that comfortable.  But Genesis also says that, after God explained the consequence of their sin, He also made them leather garments for clothes.  He gave them something much more comfortable and durable, even while it still hid their nakedness.  
    When we sin, we cover ourselves in uncomfortable clothes.  But God wants to give us a cloak of justice, clothes which take away our sins and restore us to right relationship with God, which the word justice connotes.   That is our baptismal garment, the white cloth which represents our purity before God.  It’s not simply hiding our sins, but God takes away our sins and gives us His holiness, which we are free to keep wearing, or to throw off when we sin.  Sin is uncomfortable clothes, and causes us grief, and yet, we still sometimes choose to abandon the cloak that God made for us for clothing that doesn’t protect us from the elements.
    The hills are the struggles that we have in the spiritual life, the trials and tribulations that are difficult in life.  It can be a bad break-up of a relationship or friendship; the death of a loved one, especially during this time between Thanksgiving and Christmas; the loss of a job, or an unexpected bill.  These events and realities make life seem like nothing but an uphill climb.  But in the place that God has prepared for us, our true home in heaven, all these challenges have been leveled off so that we don’t have to experience them anymore.  
    The valleys are all the easy ways that we slide into sin.  It can be talking about an annoying co-worker or boss; too much time spent on social media; the white lies we tell so that we don’t have to tell someone something unpleasant; lust in thought, word, and/or deed that looks so enjoyable but leaves one empty.  God promises to fill those in for us so that we don’t coast into a life that pushes Him away.  In heaven, there won’t be those easy temptations that can so quickly lead us astray.
    And lastly, in heaven, we see the full and complete salvation of our God, as Isaiah promised.  If we’re in heaven, we’re there for eternity, and we spend eternity basking in the love of God, who created us to be with Himself.  St. Paul says that right now we see dimly, as is a mirror (mirrors were not as clear then as we have them now), but later we shall see clearly.  Our goal of preparing with God’s grace is so that we can be with God forever.  Because for us, as Catholics, the Promised Land is not a place on earth, but our true home in heaven, where God wants to lead us after this exile through the valley of tears.  He gives us glimpses of heaven in this liturgy, where we gaze upon the same Christ who saved us by His Death and Resurrection, and who saves us each day whenever we cooperate with Him in living a holy life.  That helps us to stay on the narrow path that leads to salvation, and avoid the valleys of easy sins, and gives us strength to climb the mountains that inevitably arise in our lives.  
    But, as we continue to prepare for Christ’s return in glory and to celebrate the Nativity, God promises good for us.  He promises to clothe us in holiness, garments that do not merely cover our sins, but transform us from sinners into His adopted children.  He promises to assist us with grace to climb the difficult mountains and avoid the easy valleys of sin.  He promises to do everything He can to help us see the salvation that He desires for us, which is only possible with His help.  God has set forth for us the goal of our Advent preparations.  He has shown us what He desires for us.  Will we accept His offer?

Am I at the Right Movie?

Vigil of the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary
    When I was a child, I went to a movie with my dad.  We were going to see the new “Star Trek” move that had just come out.  Not long after we arrived, the lights went down, and we got ready for the beginning of the movie.  The music that started to play was different than I expected, but I thought maybe it was on purpose.  And then, as images started to display on the screen, there was the image of two babies that had just been born.  Again, not what I expected, but I thought maybe it was doing a flashback to some character’s birth.  In fact, they had put the wrong movie in the theater, and we were being shown “Twins” with Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito; very different from “Star Trek.”
    Perhaps you had a similar feeling as you sat down and started to listen to the first reading.  What does David and the Ark of the Covenant have to do with the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary?  And that confusion was likely continued in the psalm response, and we sang, “Lord, go up to the place of your rest, you and the ark of your holiness.”  Then, as the second reading started, you probably felt like we were back on track, as we spoke about Jesus taking away the sting of death.  And our Gospel at least indirectly mentions Mary when it talks about the womb that carried and the breasts that nursed Jesus. 
    But the first reading and psalm response have everything to do with Mary, at least in a spiritual sense.  The literal meaning is that David had taken the Ark of the Covenant, which the Israelites had made on their sojourn to the Promised Land, and kept as they entered the Promised Land, even taking it into battle during the reign of some of the Judges.  But it had really been left out of the newly developed kingdom that Saul ruled.  So David brought it into his newly captured capital city of Jerusalem, and then has the priests and people offer worship to God.  Eventually, that Ark would end up in the Temple that Solomon would build after the death of his father, King David.
    What was in the Ark of the Covenant?  There were three things that God commanded Moses put into the Ark: a golden pot with manna, Aaron’s staff that had budded, and the tablets of the Law.  They were still in there as the Levites carried the Ark on their shoulders with poles into Jerusalem.  But what does this have to do with Mary?
    The early Christians understood Mary as the new Ark of the Covenant.  Think about what (or better, whom) Mary carried with her: not the law written on stone tablets, but the author of the Law, who was God’s law made flesh; not the budding staff of the first high priest, but the Eternal High Priest Himself; not the manna which God had given the people in the wilderness, but the True Bread from Heaven, as we have heard over the past few weeks in the Gospel according to John. 
    And even the first reading is, in some sense, duplicated in the Gospel of the Visitation.  Mary goes to visit Elizabeth, her cousin, who lives just outside of Jerusalem, in a village we now call Ein Kerem.  The new ark is on the move, just as David had it brought to him.  As David brings the Ark of the Covenant with him, he dances before it.  John the Baptist, in the womb of Elizabeth, leaps for joy before Mary, the new Ark.  Elizabeth says at the Visitation: “How is it that the mother of my Lord should come to me?”  David says, after God promises to raise up a dynasty for him, “‘Whom am I, Lord God, and what is my house, that you should have brought me so far?’”  So Mary has everything to do with our first reading and psalm, because she is the Ark of the New Covenant.  In fact, when I was in Israel as a seminarian on pilgrimage, I remember visiting a church in Abu Ghosh called Our Lady of the Ark of the Covenant, and is said to have been built around the place where the Ark of the Covenant rested until King David took it to Jerusalem. 

Statue of Mary at Our Lady of the Ark of the Covenant

    

While Mary is the Ark of the New Covenant, par excellence, we, too, are invited to be arks of the new covenant.  Yes, Mary is the New Ark because she carries Jesus, the new Law, the Eternal High Priest, and the Bread from Heaven within her, but we are called to hear the word of God, and carry it and observe it in our daily lives.  In that way we become arks of the covenant.  Mary both carries Jesus in her womb, but also hears the word of God and observes it, so she is doubly blessed, most blessed, in fact, among women and men. 
    So no, you weren’t hearing the wrong readings.  David and the ark have everything to do with Mary.  As we celebrate this Mass, we join David and the Blessed Virgin Mary in heaven, as heaven joins with earth in every Mass, and we sing and make music and worship God, uniting ourselves to Christ’s one perfect sacrifice, that truly took away the sins of the world, and instituted a new and everlasting covenant that is not only celebrated in Jerusalem on earth, but the Jerusalem that is above: heaven.  

We're On a Mission from God

Third Sunday of Advent

     If I say the names Jake and Elwood, those of you who remember the 80s probably know exactly who I’m talking about.  Jake and Elwood are the Blues brothers, from the movie with the same name.  And as they work to get the band back together, they make it clear to everyone, that they’re on a mission from God. 
    Our first reading and Gospel today focus on a mission.  In the first reading from the Prophet Isaiah, we hear the mission statement that Jesus Himself will give as He preaches in the synagogue at Nazareth.  Jesus tells them, as Isaiah told Israel, that God has sent Him “to bring glad tidings to the poor, to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and release to the prisoners, to announce a year of favor from the Lord and a day of vindication by our God.”  That’s definitely a mission from God, and a pretty good one!
    Our Gospel, too, makes clear that St. John the Baptist was “sent from God.  He came for testimony, to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him.”  We heard about St. John the Baptist, also called the Precursor, last week in our Gospel.  The Precursor is a man on a mission, to prepare the way for Jesus.  He is not the Messiah, as some had started to think, but wants everyone in Israel to be ready for the Messiah. 
    We, too, are called to be people on mission.  We, like Jake and Elwood, are on a mission from God.  I have used this quote before, but St. John Henry Newman wrote: 

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….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.

God has given us each a mission, a call, and it’s something that no one else can do like we can.  Can we respond to that call?
    Many times when we think of a call, we think of priests and consecrated men and women like monks and brothers, nuns and sisters.  But all of us are called, by baptism, to be on mission for God.  Many are called to be on mission as a wife or mother, husband or father.  Others are called to serve as a priest or deacon, or be in a religious community.  Some women are called to be consecrated virgins.  But all are called to advance the Gospel to others.
    How do we recognize our call?  Prayer is key.  A call is something that we choose, but to which God first invites us.  We make a deliberate choice to follow the urging of the Holy Spirit in our life.  Imagine how silly it would sound if I said I chose to be a priest simply because no one else wanted me.  Probably not a great way to start the seminary interview with the bishop.  Instead, a call is something to which we are driven.  A wife (hopefully) doesn’t agree to marry someone simply because no one else will have her.  She finds a man who cares for her, who puts her needs above his own, who wants to work with her to build a family according to God’s plan.  She chooses to love him because she senses that they are meant to become saints together.  And through daily prayer, taking time in silence to hear the voice of God, we learn what God wants for us.
    Sometimes our idea of the call develops or changes.  I didn’t always want to be a priest.  I wanted to be married, have a few kids, a couple of dogs, a really nice house and car, and work either in the military, or as a lawyer, and then maybe a politician (don’t let that last part lessen your opinion of me!).  But through prayer, I came to sense that I could only be truly happy as a priest.  Of course, the Church had something to say about it, too.  It wasn’t simply that I wanted a particular vocation.  But with the formation that the Church provided, and the “yes” that the Church spoke through her leaders, I came to be confirmed in what I felt God wanted me to do.  Sometimes our understanding of our mission changes or develops.
    Another key part of our mission is that we don’t replace the Messiah.  An older priest once told me that his spiritual director had counseled him when he became all-too-convinced of his own importance, “The Church already has a Messiah; we don’t need you!”  Our mission is to cooperate with God, not to take His place.  So many people feel that they can decide what they want to do, rather than God; that they can define what happiness will be–whom they can marry, how many kids they need to have, how they should spend their money–without any consideration of what God wants.  God has made the world a certain way, and has taught us, through the Scriptures and the Church, what truly makes us happy.  When we choose other than that, we are in an exercise of futility; we cannot be happy doing the things that God has said will not give us true happiness. 
    Some of you may feel, due to age or other factors, that you have already accomplished your mission because you know your vocation.  But, as long as you are alive, you still are on mission.  You can continue to spread the Gospel through your children, your grandchildren, and others.  You can offer suffering to Jesus on the cross for an intention.  You can continue to help others know the joy you have from your relationship with Jesus.  Don’t let COVID give you the blues.  You are on a mission from God!

St. John Henry Newman

Thanos and Gamora

 Second Sunday of Advent
    Before COVID, we had these things called movie theaters that gathered lots of people together in a single place, sitting within two feet of each other, without masks, watching a movie on a giant screen, while eating food and drinking beverages.  Some of you may remember this distant, past phenomenon.  I remember going, each year, to see the newest movie that featured comic book heroes from the Marvel universe.  And one of those movies, called “Avengers: Infinity War,” came to mind as I prepared for this week’s homily.  Since it’s been out since 27 April 2018, or 687 days before the COVID-19 first lockdown, I don’t think there’ll be any spoilers in the homily, but if you haven’t seen it, you may want to cover your ears a bit (or at least now you don’t have to make up your own excuse not to listen to the homily).
  

Thanos & Gamora

In that movie, as part of the build-up to the climax, Thanos, the villain, in search for the Soul Stone to increase his power, is told that he has to sacrifice something he loves in order to get the Soul Stone.  Thanos has with him Gamora, his “adopted” daughter (I say adopted because in reality, Thanos killed her parents as he destroyed half the population on her planet, including her parents).  So Thanos kills her, and in doing so, gains the Soul Stone, part of his quest to gain all the six Infinity Stones which will give him the power to destroy half the life in the universe.  
    Perhaps not the cheery image you were looking for on this second Sunday of Advent.  But then again, maybe the word “repent” is not one that you associate with Advent, either.  And yet, that is the proclamation of St. John the Baptist, which prepares the way for Jesus.  We probably prefer the rosy, cozy message that we heard from Isaiah: “Comfort, give comfort to my people…Speak tenderly to Jerusalem.”  And that is also the message of Jesus.  But the comfort comes once we acknowledge our sins.  
    How does that work?  In order to our Lord to heal in us that which is sick and wounded, we first, by His grace, have to admit that we are sick and wounded.  Otherwise we’re like the Black Knight from “Monty Python and the Holy Grail,” whose arms and legs are being chopped off as he battles King Arthur, but pretends it’s not serious and says, “It’s just a flesh wound.”  The primary and first proclamation of the Gospel is that we are sick and wounded, and we cannot heal ourselves, but Jesus can, and will.

And people know that they’re not alright.  In the Gospel, people “of the whole Judean countryside and all the inhabitants of Jerusalem” were going to St. John the Baptist to acknowledge their sins and be baptized.  They all knew that they were not how they were supposed to be.  Who ignored their sins?  The Pharisees.  They were convinced that they didn’t need healing, so they reject the message of St. John the Baptist, and consequently, the message of Jesus.  The people, on the other hand, can accept the message of Jesus because they first accepted the message of repentance.  Repentance prepares the way for the Lord.
    It’s as if we’re Thanos, and in order to gain the Soul Stone, we have to sacrifice something that we love.  But we’re not to sacrifice a person, but our sins, in order to gain our soul.  In Greek, the word for death is 𝛩𝛼𝜈𝛼𝜏𝜊𝜍.  Those in death, 𝛩𝛼𝜈𝛼𝜏𝜊𝜍, in order to gain life, has to give up what they mistakenly treasure–sin–in order to become full of life or immortal, 𝛢𝜃𝛼𝜈𝛼𝜎𝜄𝜊𝜍 in Greek.  
    Which is why, as we assemble for Mass, we begin by acknowledging our sins.  We don’t pretend we aren’t sinners (at least hopefully we don’t).  We don’t have to be major sinners; but all of us sin.  Pope Francis himself said in one interview when asked who he is, “I am a sinner.  This the most accurate definition.  It is not a figure of speech, a literary genre.  I am a sinner.”  Or, as has been claimed, Pope Francis said when accepting the papacy, “I am a sinner, but I trust in the infinite mercy and patience of our Lord Jesus Christ.”  If Pope Francis can admit that he’s a sinner, then we all can.  I certainly am a sinner, in need of the Lord’s mercy.  And because I know I need the Lord’s mercy, I am much more likely to accept it.  Again, like the Pharisees, those who do not think they need the Lord’s mercy will not be able to accept it when it comes.  
    What do we value above God, or place before our love for God?  What is more important to us than God?  What sins, big or small, are we grasping onto as if our life depended on them?  If our hands are grasping onto our sins, then our hands are not open to receive the mercy of the Lord.  Whatever the sin, bring it to the Lord in confession.  Express sorrow for your sins (the asking is itself a gift from God), and open your hands and your hearts to the mercy of God.  You may not gain the Soul Stone, but you will allow God to save your soul.