Showing posts with label pax romana. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pax romana. Show all posts

19 December 2022

The Gospel CAD

 Fourth Sunday of Advent

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  As a way of helping police officers understand the calls to which dispatchers send them, there is a system called Computer-Assisted Dispatch, or CAD.  The CAD gives us important details on the in-car laptops like the nature of the call (what we are going to), the name and contact info of the person who called 911, the time that the call was received, and any notes associated with this call that help the law enforcement officers respond.
    St. Luke obviously didn’t have a CAD when he composed his Gospel account.  But today he sets the scene and gives important details about the time of the Redeemer.  One might think that this is the beginning of St. Luke’s account, but it’s actually chapter 3, as the first two chapters dealt with the conception of St. John, the conception of our Lord, and the Visitation, as well as our Lord’s Nativity and youth.  This chapter begins the preaching of John at the Jordan, right before the Savior began His public ministry.
    But even though this passage is after what we think about when we think about preparing for Christmas, it presents a good point for us on which to meditate: God enters into our time and our lives.  In the pagan world, the gods and goddesses were usually either totally transcendent (they were too important to be involved in the affairs of mere mortals), or they were utterly immanent (they were often just more powerful versions of humans).  But the Scriptures paint God as both transcendent and immanent, as He is other-worldly (no one can see God and live after the Fall, and God sometimes seems far off), but He also directly involves Himself in the lives of His Chosen People (calling Abraham to be a people; directing Abraham’s descendants; freeing the Chosen People from slavery in Egypt; choosing kings; sending prophets to proclaim His message and way of life; allowing the people to experience the effects of their sins; saving them from utter destruction).  
    The ministry of our Lord happens in a very particular time, to quote Charles Dickens, “the best of times” and “the worst of times.”  Luke mentions Tiberius Caesar as the emperor, and Pontius Pilate as governor.  Tiberius was the stepson of Augustus, and the second emperor of Rome.  Tiberius inherited and maintained the pax romana, the Roman peace, which, ironically, had been brought about by no small amount of violence and war, but during which time there was relative peace and prosperity in the Roman Empire.  At the same time, Pontius Pilate, Tiberius’ governor in Judea, probably was not sent there for good behavior or as a reward.  Judea did not want Roman rule, and there were regular riots and skirmishes with the far-advanced Roman army.  
    Herod, while not Roman, only had authority because of Rome.  He was not respected among the Jews, and John the Baptist rightly criticized him for marrying the wife of his half-brother.  Because his rule was dependent on Rome, he likely enjoy the favor neither of Rome (because he wasn’t Roman) nor the Jews (because Rome gave him power).  St. Luke also mentions the religious leaders, Annas and Caiaphas, who will be named again in our Lord’s Passion, and who do not come off looking so good.  So, the time in which our Lord preached could be good or bad, depending on who you were and where you lived.
    God enters into this period, the good, the bad, and the ugly.  And that should give us the hope to which Advent pushes us.  Because our lives are often a mix of the good, the bad, and the ugly.  Sometimes our lives have peace, and sometimes we won that peace by interior fighting (hopefully not exterior fighting).  But that peace can also be very secular, and disconnected from our religious life.  There is a peace of God, which comes from following His will, and then there is a worldly peace, which comes from doing what we want and then doing everything we can to silence our conscience (which will eventually speak out, as the voice of God always does when we veer from His ways).  
    Sometimes we are like Herod and fool ourselves and try to make deals with our fallen human nature, and think that that it will give us power, and then we can simply appease our religious side with devotions, even if our life is not the way it should be, and not in according with God’s will.  We bristle at the prophets who tell us to repent, even as we are intrigued by them as well.  Like Herod, we want to listen to God’s word, but if something delightful demands our obedience, we cut off the head of the prophet because we lack the courage to do what is right.
    Sometimes externally we are very religious, but inside we are dead.  Christ often rebuked the Pharisees for this, for crossing their Ts and dotting their Is, but failing to truly live in a way that God called them.  They have the audacity to think that they can stand in judgement of God’s Messiah, and then make shallow gestures of religious rage when our Lord affirms that He is who He says He is.  Do we fall into that same trap of deciding that our way is the best instead of God’s, or that God has to fit into our standards, rather than fitting ourselves into His?
    But sometimes we are following God’s will, doing our best to live according to His Gospel, to allow His peace to transform our lives, and allowing our outside practices to be a reflection of our interior relationship with God.  Even then, we can always work and making more and more straight the pathways that lead, even in these last days of Advent, to God: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

31 December 2015

A Savior, Not a President

Solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord–Mass at Night
In eleven months, we will be electing a new president of the United States.  And yet, we are all too familiar with the fact that campaign season is in full force.  It seems like every fifth commercial on the TV ends with, “I’m so and so, and I approved this message,” or “Paid for by the Elect So and So Fund.”  In recent weeks, in the wake of the terrorist attacks in Paris and San Bernardino, much of the attention of the country has turned to what the federal government is doing to keep us safe.  A good chunk of the news is also focused on the use of guns, either by private individuals or police officers.  Every candidate has his or her view on what really needs to be done to keep all people safe from all threats, whether from abroad or from within the homeland.
Hopefully we are forming our consciences by the light of the Gospel and Catholic Social teaching so that, when it comes to the primaries and the general election, we can vote for someone who advances not so much the agenda of a political party, but the truth and policies that will help all people to live in freedom and security.
But it can be too easy for people to pin all their hope on a new president.  They are convinced that if Hillary Clinton is elected, then all will be well.  They are certain that if Donald Trump is elected, then America will be great again.  Brothers and sisters, this Christmas we celebrate and we remember that our hope is not in this person or that person who will have the highest office in the land.  We celebrate not a political solution to our problems, but a Savior!
Our burden is so much greater than high or low taxes; unemployment rates and those no longer looking for jobs; whether or not our military should be involved in a war in the Middle East.  Our burden is sin: sin which causes us to hate others, sin which causes us to take advantage of others, sin which causes us to destroy ourselves.  And no human person can save us from that.  No human person will free us from this cycle of sin.  But we proclaim, this night, that we have a savior.  We have a Person who will smash the yoke that burdens us and the rod of our taskmaster.  We have someone who will confirm judgment and justice for us, who will give light to our lives and make us rejoice.  And that Person is not the person who will occupy the most powerful office in the world.  That Person is the “Wonder-Counselor, God-Hero, Father-Forever, Prince of Peace.”  That Person, whose birth around 2,000 years ago we celebrate tonight, instituted His reign as a baby.  “For a child is born to us, a son is given us.”
The temptation is to be no different than all of our ancestors who placed their hope in earthly rulers.  How many people were sure that Caesar Augustus, who instituted the Pax Romana, the Roman Peace, was the savior who would protect and govern the whole world?  And yet, while Octavian Augustus ruled in his fine palazzo in Rome, the true King was born, in a cave, in a land that no one cared about, from a people whose glory had long since faded with the death of King David.
The solutions to our problems, as a nation and as a world, do not come from the political order.  Politics certainly has its place in promoting the common good and order among all people.  But the problems in our nation and our world come from the fact that, while the angels proclaimed a great joy for all people, someone who would truly save us, we are convinced that our salvation cannot come from a peaceful child who grew up to be a crucified leader of a small “heretical” group of Jews.  We do not have peace on earth because we do not give glory to God in the highest.  We are constantly at war–in the world, in our cities, and in our hearts–because we have been like the inn keepers of Bethlehem who, when asked to make room for a poor couple who is about to give birth to their first-born, have pushed them back out into the streets.  The Prince of Peace has come to the doors of our hearts, and we have turned him away.  
The solutions to all of the world’s problems begin here, as they began in a manger in a cave in Bethlehem.  Even with the multitude of the heavenly host praising God, the shepherds must have thought, ‘What good can this little family do?  They are so few, and the kings of the world are so powerful.’  Maybe we think, too, ‘What good would it do if I lived as Christ called me to?  Would it change anything if I truly lived as if Jesus were the most important person in my life?’
In Greek mythology, Sisyphus, the king of Ephyra, was cursed by the gods for his self-aggrandizing craftiness and deceitfulness, and was made to roll an immense boulder up a hill, only to see it roll down to the base as he approached the top.  If we place our hope for the solutions to our problems in worldly efforts of this or that political party or that, we are bound to the same results.  But tonight, as we celebrate Christmas, let us recommit ourselves to electing a new king for our hearts, a king who seems powerless, but is the only one who can save us.  

Tonight, Jesus knocks on the door of your heart and invites you to elect Him to rule over you, an election which can change the course of human history, just as He did with twelve uneducated men and a handful of followers in the middle of nowhere in the Roman Empire.  “Beloved: The grace of God has appeared, saving all and training us to reject godless ways and worldly desire and to live temperately, justly, and devoutly in this age, as we await the blessed hope, the appearance of the glory of our great God and savior Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to deliver us from all lawlessness and to cleanse for himself a people as his own, eager to do what is good.”  Beloved: “Today is born our Savior, Christ the Lord.”