Becoming a Holy Family

Feast of the Holy Family

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  As we celebrate the Feast of the Holy Family, perhaps some of us think that holiness as a family is always just beyond our reach.  What can be difficult is that God is the ultimate judge of holiness.  He knows the inner working of our hearts, our motivations, how praiseworthy or culpable we truly are for our actions, etc.  While there are objective norms for being holy, our participation in those norms, and how close we come to them, is always an act of faith.  But today I wanted to outline a few important points, first in general and then directed at fathers, mothers, and children.
    First of all, from our Gospel today, we learn that holiness does not mean that we never make mistakes.  We know the story well, that our Blessed Mother and St. Joseph accidentally leave behind our adolescent Lord in Jerusalem, figuring that He’s with other family members.  It’s not until after a day of traveling that they realize they left Him behind in Jerusalem.  We know that Mary never sinned, and the Gospel doesn’t really put blame on St. Joseph either.  So holiness includes doing our best but sometimes not quite getting everything right.  I’m sure that both the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Joseph felt awful about leaving Christ behind in Jerusalem, and they likely experienced the panic that any parent has when he or she can’t find a child.  But they were not at fault.
    Secondly, holiness can, of itself, seem beyond our grasp, like a goal that we can never reach on this side of heaven.  But holiness is, more often than not, continuing to do our best, even if there are falls from time to time.  An Orthodox monk by the name of Elder Thaddeus put it this way:
 

The Holy Fathers and the Saints always tell us, “It is important to get up immediately after a fall and to keep on walking toward God.”  Even if we fall a hundred times a day, it does not matter; we must get up and go on walking toward God without looking back.  What has happened has happened–it is in the past.  Just keep on going, all the while asking for help from God.

Repentance is a sign that you are seeking holiness.  It is only when we give up, when we stop trying to be as God created us to be, that we fail.  Even if you don’t think you’re holy yet, and I know I’m still working on it, keep striving for holiness.  God is the only true judge of whether or not we are being the saints that He called us to be in Holy Baptism.
    For each member of the family, there are particular attributes that help us know that we are truly trying to be a holy family.  And I want to mention just a few today.  Certainly these admonitions are not exhaustive; there are many more that help us to be saints.  But hopefully these will help you to be a holy family, like the model Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.
    Fathers: your witness of living the faith is of the utmost importance.  Recent studies have shown that when the father of the family takes the faith seriously, his children are much more likely to continue practicing their faith after they leave the home.  Your love for your wife (first) and your children, a love which you often demonstrate by sacrifice, pays dividends.  By the way you treat your wife, you show your sons how a man should treat a woman, and you show your daughters what level of respect they can demand from young men when they start to date and seek a husband. 
    The words you use (and don’t use) are important; even more so the actions that prove which words you truly value.  We are in need of masculine witnesses of faith in our times when masculinity in general is under attack.  Do not be a chauvinist, but do not be afraid of being a man, willing to sacrifice for a greater good.  Make sure your family makes it to Mass each Sunday and Holyday, and that confession is a regular part of your family life, too, with your wife and kids able to see you enter the confessional, proving that you, too, have your faults that require God’s forgiveness, even as your seek to imitate the love of God the Father in your family home.  Bless your wife and children.  Entrust them to the care of their guardian angels daily.  In this way, you will be holy fathers of a holy family.
    Mothers: faith and trust so often come easier for you, which is why so many women are active in the life of faith and of the parish.  You help your husbands to continue the process of changing from a boy to a man.  A boy thinks only of himself; a man thinks of the other; a husband has been trained to value you and your children more than himself.  Your husband wants to do what is best, and you can help him see things, not only from his perspective, but also from yours.  You help him to value and support what is tender in him, especially when it comes for caring for you and your children.
    Your connection with your children is always different than your husbands, since you bore each child for nine months before their father even got a chance to connect with them.  They often look to you first for guidance, and especially for that maternal love which is gentle when comforting a husband who has the “man flu” or a child who is sick or hurt, but which love is ferocious when defending a child under attack from the outside.  Like Mary, your heart is often pierced with many sorrows, but you demonstrate how to suffer them patiently, with trust that God will make all things right in the end. 
    Your witness to the faith is also so important, and imitates the witness of the Blessed Mother who was attentive to God’s will, and pondered the working of God in her heart.  You help your husband and your children learn quiet meditation and how to listen for the voice of God in the silence.  We need holy women in today’s society, which do not seek to be the same as men, but which seek to compliment authentic masculinity with the feminine genius.  Pray for your husband and children daily.  Entrust them to the care of their guardian angels daily.  In this way, you will be holy mothers of a holy family.
    Children: you, more than your father and mother, are constantly in a state of becoming.  Your life as a child always develops, from a small life in the womb, to a baby, to a toddler, to a child, to an adolescent, to a teenager, to an adult.  You are constantly bumping into rules and limits as you discover who God made you to be.  There are so many influences in your life: first family, then friends, then a boyfriend or girlfriend.  Amid all these changes in your lives, seek God first.  Seek His guidance first.  Your parents will be good, but not perfect, examples of what God wills for you.  Learn to emulate what they do well; learn to avoid what you observe of their struggles.  Both are helpful for your growth in holiness.
    Be patient with your parents.  Just as you don’t know how to become the person God wants you to be perfectly, so they don’t know perfectly how to raise you to be that person.  You didn’t come with an instruction manual.  You will make mistakes, and so will they.  But be respectful of them and, until you’re an adult, obedient to them.  Look to them to understand when love needs to be tough, and when love needs to be gentle.  Pray for them each day of your lives, as you are not always easy to raise.  Commend your parents to St. Joseph and the Blessed Virgin Mary each day.  In this way, you will be holy children of a holy family.
    You can each be a holy family.  I can be a holy family.  It does take discipline and sacrifice.  Holy families always seek God’s will, and do their best to follow it when known.  Persevere in trying each day to be holy, as all you have is each day.  If you do your best to cooperate with God’s will, He will complete the good work He has begun in you, through Christ Jesus the Lord, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit live and reign for ever and ever.  Amen.

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.

'Twas the Night of Little Giants

Second Sunday of Advent

Two weeks ago we ended our Extraordinary Jubilee Year of Mercy.  Maybe after hearing today’s Gospel we feel like we have begun the Year of Divine Wrath!  St. John the Baptist certainly did not pull any punches.  To those who were open to him, he was preaching, “‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!’”  To those who weren’t open to him, the Pharisees and the Sadducees, he was even harsher: “‘You brood of vipers!  Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath?  Produce good fruit as evidence as your repentance.  […] His winnowing fan is in his hand.  He will clear his threshing floor and gather his wheat into his barn, but the chaff he will burn in unquenchable fire.”

An icon of St. John the Baptist
from outside Ein Kerem, Israel

I often wonder about how St. John the Baptist drew so many people.  He definitely had positive things to say, but a lot of what he said was somewhat harsh and critical.  Who gathers to hear the message: you are sinners and you need to shape up!?  And yet we hear about the large crowds who came to him to be baptized.  I remember walking back from the MSU-Notre Dame game (the famous one with the Little Giants play), and there was a street preacher along one of the sidewalks yelling at people to repent from their sexual immorality, their drinking, and their sinfulness in general.  I was in my collar, and as I looked at him, he said, “And don’t think you are safe because you work in the church!” or some such thing.  But people weren’t lining up to listen to him; in fact, they just walked on by. 

St. Matthew tells us that St. John the Baptist was the one who was preparing the way for the Lord.  God prepares the way for the public ministry of His Son, Jesus, by having a guy who eats locusts and honey tell people that they are sinners.  Hmmm…not the first approach I would think of if I wanted to get ready for the Messiah.

But, as Isaiah says elsewhere, God’s ways are not our ways.  And if we stop to think about it, it actually makes sense (except for the locust and honey part; I’m still not sure I get that).  We did just end the Year of Mercy, and we were rightly focused on God’s generous love which forgives us.  But love cannot be forced or faked.  God does not force His love on us (nor His mercy), and God does not give His forgiveness to those who are not sorry.  And so as odd as we may feel it is, the call to repentance is an important one.

Certainly, God’s grace starts the process.  We cannot be sorry without God enlightening us about our sins and the ways we have separated ourselves from Him.  But then we have to take the second step and acknowledge that we are wrong.  It’s one thing to think, “Maybe I shouldn’t have done X;” it’s another thing altogether to say, “I sinned when I did X.”  And it is only after we say “I sinned when I did X” and are sorry for whatever X is and make a resolution to not do X again that God can forgive us, because it is only after recognizing our sinfulness and our need for being forgiven that we will be open enough to receive God’s forgiveness.

The call to repentance and to admitting we have sinned is vitally important, of eternal importance, because only when we admit we have sinned and repent are we able to be forgiven.  Without someone to remind us that we are not perfect, that we don’t have everything figured out in our life, that we are sinners, we are not in a disposition to receive the mercy of God which we just focused on for the past year.  We need people in our life like St. John the Baptist to tell us we are sinners, not to beat us up, not to make us despair, but to prepare the road that Jesus wants to take to our hearts.  

Is it hard to admit that we’re wrong?  I’m a perfectionist, and it’s hard for me.  But it’s the truth.  I am a sinner.  And I don’t have to be Hitler or Stalin to accuse myself of sin.  We are all sinners, and we all need to repent.  We all have things in our life that are not of God and which have damaged or even severed our relationship with God.  Maybe we are afraid of guilt; maybe we don’t like that feeling.  But feeling guilty is a sign that our conscience, the voice of God in our hearts, is working properly and is properly formed by the Word of God and the teaching of the Church.  I don’t worry about the kid who cries after being caught doing something wrong in our school; I worry about the kid who feels nothing after being caught doing something wrong.

But God does not intend for us to remain in our guilt.  Guilt is meant to move us to repentance and the Sacrament of Penance.  How long has it been since you confessed your sins in the Sacrament of Penance, the way Jesus taught us to receive His forgiveness?  A month? Six months? A year? Five years? Ten years? Twenty years?  No matter how long it has been, do not let it last one more month.  God wants to shower His mercy upon you, and is waiting for you to respond to His grace to go to the Sacrament.  I’ll be glad to help you through the process if you’ve forgotten how to celebrate the sacrament or your Act of Contrition.  Or we’ll have other priests here on Sunday, 18 December at 3 p.m. to hear your confession.  The Year of Mercy is over, but God’s mercy endure for ever.  “‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!’”

Exams and Heaven

Second Sunday of Advent

            Now for a little note: in this new liturgical year, I want to shift my focus a little bit in the homilies I preach.  Last year I tried to focus on the gift of faith and spreading the Gospel.  That certainly will still come up in my homilies, as it is a perennial aspect of our faith.  But this year I want to focus more on the prayers that I say in your name during the Mass as a way of encouraging us to participate more fully in the Divine Mysteries in which we partake, and challenging us to take that participation outside the doors of this church.

Final exams week: I remember it well.  I remember the stress, the anxiety, hoping to keep a good grade, or maybe to bump the grade up a bit with a final good grade.  Plus, getting ready, maybe, to move back home for a little while.  And, there’s still Christmas presents and cards to buy.  No big deal, right?  But, imagine this added aspect: when Bishop Boyea was academic dean at Sacred Heart Major Seminary in Detroit, during exam week he would walk up and down the hallways singing, “It’s the Most Wonderful time of the Year.”  Honestly, I’m surprised there wasn’t a freak “accident” at least once.

            Our first reading sets a picturesque view of the coming of the Messiah:

the spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him…not by appearance shall he judge, nor by hearsay shall he decide, but he shall judge the poor with justice, and decide aright for the land’s afflicted.  Justice shall be the band around his waist, and faithfulness a belt upon his hips.  Then the wolf shall be a guest of the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; the calf and the young lion shall browse together, with a little child to guide them.  The cow and the bear shall be neighbors…There shall be no harm or ruin on all my holy mountain.

Maybe to this we might add: the professor will stop giving exams, and class participation shall be 100% of the grade.  Surely there are no final exams in paradise!!

            The prayer that opened our Mass, the Collect (so called because the priest collects all our silent prayers and merges them into a prayer that he says on all the people’s behalf) said: “Almighty and merciful God, may no earthly undertaking hinder those who set out in haste to meet your Son, but may our learning of heavenly wisdom gain us admittance to his company.”  God doesn’t want us to be distracted right now by any earthly undertaking, including exams.  So, everybody take a deep breath, and whatever it is that has got you wound up tighter than a watch, let it go.  Because, while most things we do are important—in school, in work, with family—nothing is more important than our time right here, right now with the Lord. 

           

Our Gospel passage introduces us for the first time on a Sunday this Advent to St. John the Baptist.  And he sounds quite different than the first reading.  Whereas the first reading seems all nice, warm, and cozy, St. John the Baptist seems more like an angry preacher.  He calling people broods of vipers, telling them the axe is at the foot of the tree to chop it down, and calling everyone to repent.  And yet he is the messenger that Isaiah, the same Isaiah as our first reading, prophesied as “A voice of one crying out in the desert, Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths.”  That seems a bit odd.

            But what John is pointing out is that we are all sinners: each and every one of us.  I am a sinner.  You are all sinners.  That sounds harsh!  That sounds downright mean to our yuppy culture (to use a Duck Dynasty term).  But it’s true, and in order for us to prepare for Jesus’ coming, we have to recognize our sins.  We have to turn away from them.  Because otherwise, if we do not recognize that we are sinners, then we don’t need a savior.  If you are not lost, then you don’t need saving.  And if you don’t need saving, then Jesus is not for you, because He came to seek and to save what was lost.

            Our prayers try to remind us that we need a redeemer, too.  Our Prayer over the Offerings says: “Be pleased, O Lord, with our humble prayers and offerings, and, since we have no merits to plead our cause, come, we pray, to our rescue with the protection of your mercy.”  What we’re giving God is the best we have, hopefully, but even that isn’t so great.  We don’t have anything that we have done that could put us back into right relationship with God.  Because we owe God everything, nothing that we could ever pay back would work at paying down the principle of the debt we incurred by sin.  When we recognize that, then Jesus becomes all the more important, because we recognize we can’t do it on our own.  We cannot heal ourselves, but need to be healed by the mercy of God. 

            And God gives us His mercy when we ask for it.  He gives it to us under sacramental signs.  He gives us mercy for all our sins when we come to Him in the Sacrament of Penance (and we’ll have our communal Penance Liturgy next Sunday), and He gives us mercy for our venial or small sins when we celebrate His Death, Resurrection, and Ascension under the sacramental signs of bread and wine which are also truly the Body and Blood of Jesus.  Our Prayer after Communion reaffirms this: “Replenished by the food of spiritual nourishment, we humbly beseech you, O Lord, that, through our partaking in this mystery, you may teach us to judge wisely the things of earth and hold firm to the things of heaven.”  When we worthily receive the Eucharist, we are spiritually fed, and as we partake in the Paschal Mystery, that Death, Resurrection, and Ascension that won for us eternal life, we understand better and are given strength to live out better our call to be disciples of Jesus who try to make our life like His as much as we can.

            Yes, Advent is a crazy time of year as we prepare for Christmas because of exams, parties, family coming over, work, buying gifts.  But in the midst of the craziness, don’t let it consume you.  Don’t let these earthly undertakings get in the way of what Advent truly prepares for: the celebration of the birth of Christ, the second coming of Christ, and the ways that Christ comes to our hearts each day.

The Comfort of the Truth

Second Sunday of Advent

            “Comfort, give comfort to my people, says your God.”  When I heard the word comfort, and try to think of what comforts me, I think of a cold, snowy evening, sitting by the fireplace, the living room lit only by a few flickering flames from candles, drinking my family recipe of hot spiced cider, and watching a favorite television show or movie.  For others it might be a hot tub, or a warm beach, or even just a pint of Häagen Dazs.  Or maybe you’ve got your own sense of what comforts you that is radically different from the examples I just listed. 

            It’s beautiful to hear the words of Isaiah the prophet, telling us that God wants to bring us comfort.  “Speak tenderly,” he says, “and proclaim to her that her service is at an end; her guilt is expiated…Go up on a high mountain…cry out at the top of your voice…Here is your God!  […] Like a shepherd he feeds his flock; in his arms he gathers the lambs, carrying them in his bosom, and leading the ewes with care.”  Who doesn’t want to know that the Lord is going to speak tenderly to us, to proclaim that our service is at an end, and that our guilt is no more?  Who doesn’t want the Lord to come as a shepherd, feeding his flock, gathering us in his arms and carrying us close to his chest?

            So what do we do with the middle part of the first reading and our Gospel?  We heard twice, “A voice cries out: In the desert prepare the way of the LORD!  Make straight in the wasteland a highway for our God!”  We have traditionally associated that proclamation with St. John the Baptist who, as St. Mark wrote in today’s Gospel passage, “appeared in the desert proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.”  If any of you have seen the movie “Jesus of Nazareth” by Franco Zeffirelli, you can picture how enthused John the Baptist was about his message.  In the movie, John the Baptist is screaming at the top of his lungs: Repent!  And he’s only wearing a camel’s hair tunic and a leather belt around his waist, eating locusts and honey.  In fact, he screams so much that Herod has him arrested for preaching against his so-called marriage to his brother’s wife.  This is not the warm, pastoral scene that Isaiah has at the end of our first reading.  And it certainly doesn’t seem like the comfort that Isaiah prophesies at the beginning of our first reading.  So why is the figure of John the Baptist, the one crying out in the wilderness: Prepare the Way of the Lord, sandwiched between those two soft images?

            What John preaches is the truth.  As St. Augustine says in one of His sermons, Jesus is the word, and John is the voice.  Jesus is what is being proclaimed, and John is the one proclaiming it.  John is preaching repentance, which is the beginning of the comfort that God wants to give.  “But change is hard!  Change isn’t comfortable!”  Change can be difficult.  We’re seeing that as we slowly get used to our new translations, saying “And with your spirit” instead of “And also with you.”  But what is most comfortable is the truth.  The truth is precisely what gives comfort.  It may not always seem like it does, but if Jesus is the Truth, as he says (I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life), then when we receive the truth, we receive Jesus, who is the shepherd, drawing us close to his bosom, and leading us with care, from lies to truth, from darkness to light, from slavery to sin to freedom in God’s commandments. 

            It is true, sometimes the truth hurts, and we don’t usually associate that hurt with comfort.  But that painful truth is like knowing the reality that our infected wound has to be drained.  It is going to be painful at first, probably very painful, but it will actually be comforting to know that the infection is being treated, and the wound will heal properly. 

            So when John is preaching repentance, turning away from sins and being faithful to God, he is bringing the comfort of God.  Because it is only when we recognize that we need to turn back to the Lord, when we recognize the truth, that we can actually start going in the right direction with the help of God, rather than wandering off by ourselves away from the kingdom God has prepared for us, where the fullness of comfort is present. 

            We all need that message that John the Baptist preaches.  We need to hear, time and time again, “Repent!  For the Kingdom of God is at hand!”  We need the truth.  Otherwise we get stuck with the mentality: my sins aren’t that bad!  It’s not like I murdered someone!  It was just a little gossip; I just cheated a little bit; it’s just a little pornography every now and then; I’ll give back the money I took at my next paycheck.  If our mentality, no matter what sins we struggle with, is, “I’m really ok; I’m not that bad,” then we will not receive the comfort that God wants to give us, the comfort of living how God has created us: for Him in love, and with Him eternally in heaven.  If we do not repent, through the sacrament of Reconciliation, then God won’t be able to say to us, “your service is at an end, your guilt is expiated,” because we will have closed ourselves off to the mercy and love that God wants to communicate to us.  Next Sunday, on 11 December, we’ll once again host a Communal Celebration of the Sacrament of Reconciliation with Individual Confessions, with priests from around the Eastern part of Lansing offering you the sacramental grace and peace that comes from hearing the words and knowing the reality: your sins are forgiven; go in peace.  That’s the comfort the Lord wants to give you.  That’s the tenderness that waits for our response.  How will you answer?  Where will you find comfort?

The Urgency of Advent

Second Sunday of Advent

            Have you ever noticed how the urgency, or even the lack thereof, can change the way we communicate?  Say you have tons of time, but you still want someone to get something done.  What do we usually say?  “If you wouldn’t mind, could you…” or “When you get a chance might you…”.  On the flip side, if we’re rushed, if we feel that something has to happen quickly, then we tend to forego the formalities, and just get to the point: “I need to you to do…” or even “Do…”. 

            In our first reading from Isaiah, we might think that he’s taking a more laid back approach.  After all, compared to the way John the Baptist was preaching in our Gospel, anything would seem laid back.  But listen again to the images Isaiah uses. 

            First we have a shoot sprouting from a stump.  That’s pretty drastic.  And this shoot is really a man, who will be filled with the Spirit of the Lord.  But not just the general Spirit of the Lord, but a spirit of wisdom, understanding, counsel, strength, knowledge, fear of the Lord.  This is part of the common list of the gifts of the Holy Spirit.  This shoot is not going to judge by hearsay or appearance (sort of an allusion to the way the judges in the time of Isaiah were judging), but “shall judge the poor with justice.”  Then we get really drastic.

            This just judge “shall strike the ruthless with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips he shall slay the wicked.”  That’s pretty intense!  And then, we get what we think of as a very bucolic scene: “the wolf shall be a guest of the lamb; and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; the calf and the young lion shall browse together, with a little child to guide them” but which in reality means that a major change is going to take place.  No longer will predator/prey be the main relationship, as it is now, but all will be at peace.  But of course, you need someone to instill that peace: the just judge, the shoot from Jesse’s stump.  Even this is a pretty extreme scenario.

            This makes John the Baptist not seem so different from the line of the prophets.  His words, as harsh as they sound in today’s Gospel, are just as intense as Isaiah’s were.  But, for John, there is even more urgency, because he knows that he is on “a mission from God” to quote a famous movie, “‘A voice of one crying out in the desert, Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths.’”

A statue of St. John the Baptist from his
home town of Ein Keren in Israel

            John the Baptist knows that his mission is to bring the people to repentance, because it is by repentance that they will recognize the Messiah.  And when he doesn’t see that repentance, the urgency of the message leads him to say some pretty amazing things: “‘Your brood of vipers!” he says to the Pharisees and Sadducees.  And John continues: “Even now the ax lies at the root of the trees.  Therefore, every tree that does not bear good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire…His winnowing fan is in his hand.  He will clear his threshing floor and gather his wheat into his barn, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”  In other words, repent, or it’s going to be really bad for you.

            Brothers and sisters, we should have the same urgency about us.  Jesus is coming back.  For all we know, He could return tomorrow.  And yet what is the tone in our hearts and in our voice when it comes to repentance to prepare for Jesus’ return?  Is it, “It would be nice if I were a better disciple” or “If I get around to it I’ll change my life to more conform with the Gospel”?  That’s probably true for each of us, some of us at times, others of us for much of our lives.  We need John the Baptist to communicate to us the urgency of turning back to Christ.  We need him yelling in the wilderness, “‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!”

            And this time, Jesus will not come as a tiny baby, seemingly powerless.  When He comes again He will come to judge the living and the dead, as we profess each solemnity in the creed, to separate the sheep from the goats.  And if we’re goats, there’s nothing but eternal torment in the fires of hell to look forward to.  He will come as a conquering King to bring a final end to Satan, and all his demons, and all those who by their actions tell God that they would rather “reign in hell than serve in heaven.”

            The time is near.  It is urgent that we convert.  So how do we repent?  How do we more configure our lives to Christ?  We begin and end with God’s grace, with our cooperation in the middle.  We first ask God for forgiveness for those times that we have sinned, especially through sacramental confession and absolution.  We take time to be honest with God and tell Him the areas of our life that still need conversion.  And God never rejects those who honestly come to Him asking for His help.  And then we use that grace that we receive from sacramental reconciliation to change real actions in our life, to truly stop sinful actions, and replace them with acts of charity, acts of benevolence, acts of faith and trust in God.  And then God crowns those gifts with more grace, so that we can continue in our response to the love which God first showered upon us.

            We should not put off our conversion.  We should not delay in conforming our lives more to Christ.  The time is now.  It is urgent.  “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!”