Repeating

Fourth Sunday of Advent

    I used to have SiriusXM Radio in my car, but I got tired of having to verbally fight with them to get the lowest rates, so I decided to try streaming music instead.  And because I’m frugal (others would use the word cheap), I wanted a free source.  I tried Pandora at first, but then everyone I know encouraged me to get Spotify.  I like the idea of being able to like certain songs, and have what I’m sure is an algorithm suggest other songs like it to which I can listen.  
    But what I have noticed is that, with occasional exceptions, it tends to play the same songs over and over again in any playlist I have.  Even when I get a rare new song and like the song, it still tends to take me back into a rotation of about 30 songs, so I feel like I’m hearing the same songs over and over again.

    You may have the same feeling with today’s Gospel reading, though maybe not as strongly.  This Gospel passage, from the first chapter of the Gospel according to St. Matthew, was the Gospel for the day on 18 December; it’s the Gospel today; and it will be the Gospel for the 4:30 p.m. Christmas Eve Mass.  I can imagine what your mind goes to when you hear the words, “This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about.”  It’s probably something like, “Didn’t I just hear this?”  
    Beyond the Gospel, Catholicism is built on ritual.  The Mass is, substantially, the same every week.  The readings change, the preface sometimes change, and I generally alternate between different versions of the Eucharistic Prayer week by week, but not that much changes.  I will admit that I even sometimes check my blog with all my homilies to make sure that I’m not preaching the same thing year after year, especially with these seasons and days that have similar themes.  
    And some will criticize the ritual nature of Catholicism.  Our evangelical brothers and sisters might have a different service every month, even if there is a similar format.  There’s much more sense of inventing something new and exciting every year, probably because it appeals to our desire to be entertained.  And entertainment is, generally speaking, putting out new things that delight the fact that we’ve never seen it before.  While Hollywood has leaned on remakes of past releases, generally they are always making new movies.  Singers tend to include some old favorites at concerts, but more so tend to focus on the latest album they released.  
    But, as much as we find ourselves drawn to what is new and exciting (or, to use a newer word, bussin’), the human person has a need for routine and things that do not change.  Routine creates a certain calm or stability that we need.  Even in the hectic mornings when you’re getting yourself and/or your kids ready, your routine, even if interrupted, of putting on deoderant, brushing your teeth, combing your hair, shaving, putting on make-up, using cologne or perfume, probably gives you some sense of stability, even if the rest of the day is anything but stable.  And it opens up success for the future that chaos tends not to support.  Imagine that, to keep things new and fresh, you decided not to wear deodorant or brush your teeth.  It probably wouldn’t help you out in your day, and would create more stress.
    Ritual in the Catholic Church creates calm because our encounter with God is not meant to be a flurry of emotions, though we sometimes do get an emotive response.  Our worship of God should create a peace and quiet in us that allows to hear God, who often works in the stillness and silence.  An emotive high is like a drug: it’s exciting (for you younger folk, it slaps) when you experience something new.  But then, as you get used to new and ever-changing, the level of new and changing has to increase because your tolerance for new has increased, and the old new and exciting doesn’t give you the same high.  That’s why Catholic Masses are not and should not be like rock concerts.  There’s a place for that kind of music, in our devotional life, but in the Mass, we need to create a quiet space to encounter God, who didn’t come to Elijah in an earthquake, fire, or storm, but in the stillness.
    Routine and ritual also allow us to do what novelty never allows: go deeper.  When I’m just concerned about getting something new each time, I remain that the surface level, because I’m adjusting to stimuli I haven’t experienced before.  When I hear the same prayer or the same Gospel passage again and again, God desires that I do go deeper than just the surface.  It was only after a while of praying the fourth Eucharistic Prayer (which I use during Ordinary Time), that I recognized the words, “Look, O Lord, upon the Sacrifice which you yourself have provided for your Church…” could refer back to Genesis, when Abraham was on his way to sacrifice Isaac, his beloved Son, and Isaac asks where the sheep for sacrifice is, that Abraham says that God Himself will provide the sheep for the sacrifice.  As I grow in my understanding of the Scriptures, I see how they intertwine with the Mass, something we can miss if we only stay at the surface level.
    So, yes, we will hear again (if you go to the Vigil Mass of Christmas on Wednesday afternoon), “This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about,” a passage that we have likely heard countless times.  But, as with this Gospel, so with the Mass: don’t stay at the surface.  Allow the calm of the ritual to push you into deeper meanings and connections throughout the rest of the Mass, the Scriptures, and the Church’s other teachings.  Don’t miss the depth God wants to reveal because you want something new and exciting each time.  Remain with God, the source of beauty, ever ancient, ever new. 

Remembering the Reason

Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
    Routines, while generally beneficial, can also lead to a certain amnesia about their purpose.  And in an age where we seek out something new and exciting, routines can make less and less sense, especially when the routine calls something out of me, and I don’t see the immediate returns on my investments.  

My JV Soccer Team Photo

    When I was a freshman at Lansing Catholic high school I played JV soccer.  We were bad.  We lost a lot of games.  Some of the cause of our losing record one could trace to the league in which we played, with much larger schools like Okemos and Mason.  But, speaking honestly, we also didn’t have a lot of skill, and I would include myself in that assessment.  We were all ok athletes, but not of us excelled at soccer.  And the routine of going to practice, which I rarely enjoyed, or playing games, where we rarely won, got old.  So, after my freshman year, I quit soccer.  I lost sight of why I played, so I quit.  And it’s a choice I regret to this day.
    In our Catholic faith, much can seem like routine.  Take even where you find yourself today.  I would bet that, for at least some of you, you come to Mass out of routine, out of habit.  What we saw before, but especially after COVID, were people who no longer found that routine helpful, or at least they didn’t appreciate what they could get out of practicing one’s faith (which cannot be limited to attending Mass on Sundays, but definitely needs to include attending Sunday Mass as a minimum), so they quit.  Only now, some four years later, do some parishes find themselves with a similar number of people attending as in 2019 (though St. Matthew actually grew during COVID).  
    So, in our second reading today, St. Paul gives us a reminder as he writes his first letter to the Corinthians.  Some, even then in the first fifty years of Christianity, when the Catholic Church was all there was, had already forgotten the importance of what they had first received.  They had not seen the resurrection, and they started to doubt those who had.  So they started to reject the resurrection of Christ, even while still keeping some loose connection to the Church.

    But St. Paul takes them to the heart of the issue: “If the dead are not raised, neither has Christ been raised, and if Christ has not been raised, your faith is vain; you are still in your sins.”  People knew that things were not the way they were supposed to be, that they were not the people they were supposed to be.  They missed the mark for which they were aiming (the Greek term 𝛼𝜇𝛼𝜌𝜏𝜄𝛼 means missing the mark, but is also the word for sin).  And St. Paul preached that there was a way that they could not only hit the mark, but that they could enjoy eternal happiness in heaven.  They knew, as we do, instinctually, that death was not normal, which is why we fight against it so much.  And St. Paul told them how they could live for ever.  They did have to die, symbolically, in the waters of baptism, but if they did, they would live forever if they followed the way of life Jesus set out for them.  And Jesus was worth following because He showed us the way.  He showed us, in His resurrection, that death did not have to have the final word.  At first it looked like sin and death conquered Jesus, on Good Friday, but on Easter Jesus showed us that He conquered sin and death; they could not keep Him down.  
    And that is what the Church has continued to proclaim for some 2,000 years.  For 2,000 years the Church has reflected on the life of Jesus and told us what is consistent and what is inconsistent with following Him.  We can reduce all the dos and don’ts of Catholicism to how we live for Christ and according to His teaching: from going to Mass every Sunday to not having sex before marriage; from serving the poor and the needy to being honest in all our words and dealings; from not idolizing money or power or fame to choosing to love and be kind to every person, regardless of their money or power or fame; from teaching that marriage is only between one man and one woman for life to helping to us to know that our bodies are a gift from God and reveal, even in our God-given gender, something important of who we are.  All of this, and all that the Church asks of us and teaches us, comes down to following Christ in the way He showed us.
    But when we forget this, either due to the routine nature of the faith or for any other reason, we easily walk away.  We forget what a precious gift God gave us in giving us the opportunity of new and eternal life.  If the resurrection is false, then we are “the most pitiable people of all.”  Not only because we have all these rules that often require real sacrifice and giving up what comes naturally to us, but especially because if Christ has not been raised from the dead, then we are still trapped under the oppression of sin and death, and no matter how hard we try to avoid or cheat death, it will be the end of us.

The empty tomb in Jerusalem

    But, I can tell you, that Christ is alive.  I have been to His tomb in Jerusalem, and it is empty.  I trust the eleven apostles who saw the Risen Christ, with the marks of His crucifixion, in the Upper Room.  I trust St. Paul, who saw the Risen Christ on the road to Damascus, where Paul was going to arrest Christians and persecute them for believing in the Risen Christ.  I trust the people who, for two thousand years, have received that good news from the apostles and passed it down to us, because if they lied, they would have no reason for joy, especially when giving up their lives.  But especially those who died for the faith, the martyrs, joyfully accepted death rather than deny what they knew to be true: that Jesus Christ is risen from the dead and has saved us from sin and death.
    Gentlemen on the hockey team: I am willing to bet there were people last year who got sick of practicing, who hated the drills that coach put them through, and who wondered if it was even worth it.  Maybe there were people who even decided not to play last year, because how much practices called them to sacrifice the year before.  But for those who stuck with it, who pushed through the routine, a big, ole’ ring and a beautiful trophy became their prize, a prize I know you hope to duplicate this year.  Heaven is better than a championship ring and trophy, infinitely better.  Yes, sometimes the faith may seem routine, and may call for sacrifices that you would rather not make on given days.  But keep your eyes on the prize.  Keep eternal life and joy in your mind.  And you will not be disappointed.