Waiting

Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen].  When it comes to difficult times for most people, any time a person has to wait probably ranks towards the top.  Maybe it’s a child waiting for summer break to begin in the last days of May and the first days of June (or maybe a teacher!).  Maybe it’s a mother, waiting for her child to be born.  Maybe it’s waiting in a doctor’s office or in the lobby of a dealership to get the oil changed.  Maybe it’s waiting on the phone for a customer service representative to try to resolve whatever issue you may be having.  For me, one of the frustrating things is that there is nothing I can do to speed up the time when I’m waiting.  I have no control.

    So as we celebrate the Ascension of our Lord, we’re now in a long waiting game.  And if you think you were on hold for a long time with that customer service representative, we’ve been waiting almost 2,000 years for Christ to return, as the angels promised He would.  We know that God keeps His promises, but we also know that He chooses the right time to accomplish His will.  After all, He waited unknown centuries from the fall of Adam and Eve and their expulsion from the Garden of Eden, to fulfill His promise to send a redeemer to restore them to friendship with God.  But that waiting wasn’t just sitting on their hands, doing nothing.  He prepared His People so that they could be ready to welcome the long-awaited Messiah, who was also His Only-Begotten Son.  They waited through the Great Flood; Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; slavery in Egypt and their return and conquest of the Promised Land; the judges and kings; the prophets who corrected them when they went astray; and even through foreign occupation of their land, first by the Babylonians, then by the Greeks, and then eventually by Romans.
    So, in this time, we also wait, as we have from the year AD 33.  And our waiting is really twofold: waiting to celebrate the promised gift of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, and waiting for the Parousia, the return of Christ in glory.  
    While we wait to celebrate the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, we should be asking the Holy Spirit to dwell within us more deeply, especially through the Novena to the Holy Spirit.  These days between the Ascension and Pentecost was the first novena, the first nine-days of prayer for a particular petition.  Granted, in most dioceses that’s now shortened to seven days, but that’s another story.  Still, even though we have received the Holy Spirit, especially through the holy sacraments of Baptism and Confirmation, we can never have too much of the Third Divine Person of the Blessed Trinity, the one who is our Advocate, who strengthens us with gifts like wisdom and courage, and who gives us the fruits of love, joy, and peace, among others.  While waiting at a doctor’s office or waiting on the phone can seem very passive, where you can’t do anything else, waiting for the Holy Spirit is more like waiting for summer break, or even giving birth to a child, where there are preparations and things to be done so that, when the day comes, we’re ready.  It would be very sad to go into labor, knowing that we hadn’t started or completed the baby’s room or crib, or bought the necessary supplies to help the child thrive and grow outside the womb.  But, when it comes to Pentecost, how often does this happen, that we are not quite ready to receive the Holy Spirit?
    But beyond Pentecost, we wait for Christ to return in glory.  And this, too, is not a passive waiting.  This wait should be active.  Because at the end of time, Christ will put all things “beneath his feet,” as St. Paul says in his epistle to the Ephesians.  What is not of Christ will be cast down; what is of Christ will be raised up.  In this waiting time, we have the opportunity to participate in that reign of Christ already, even though it’s not yet fully known.  We have the opportunity to cast down all that is not of God, and focus on making sure we devote all of our words, actions, and thoughts to God so that God will raise us up, and will not have to cast us down, whether in totality to Hell, or even just parts of us in Purgatory, the parts that have to be burned up like chaff, or like the dross that is burned off to purify gold.  
    We know that Christ will return, but we don’t know when that will happen.  So, the best plan of action is to make ourselves ready at all times, or at least as ready as we can be.  And it’s not just a matter of looking the part (I remember a sign that said, “God is coming back; look busy.”).  Making ourselves ready is only possible by cooperating with God’s grace, and letting that grace transform us from the inside out.  We are not promised more time.  We are only promised today; God only gives us “now” to turn away from sin and turn back to Him.  If we passively wait, presuming we have more time, the day of Christ’s return, or the day of our death, could catch us off guard, and then perhaps we will be cast down because we had not allowed Christ to configure us to Himself.
    Waiting is difficult.  And it’s especially difficult when we see evil grow and be celebrated and good struggle to survive and be persecuted.  We might feel tempted at times just to give up, like our wait will never end.  But, like summer break for children; like the day of birth for a pregnant woman; even like when we’re waiting in a doctor’s room: the time will come when our hope will be fulfilled and our joy, which no one will be able to take from us, will be complete in Christ [who with the Father and the Holy Spirit, lives and reigns for ever and ever.  Amen]

Waiting...

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

    Modern society does not make waiting easier, though, for many, myself included, it already seems difficult enough.  If I order something on Amazon, not only can I track the package to see when they will deliver it, they even sometimes will show me where the driver is in the city.  On election night, too, it frustrated me that the results of States couldn’t be called immediately.  I wanted to know the results immediately, or shortly after, the polls closed.  But I had to wait.
    Unlike Amazon deliveries, and more like the recent elections, we don’t know when the end is coming.  We know Christ will return.  We know, as Daniel prophesied, that “those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake.”  But we don’t know when.  Many have tried to read certain passages of Scripture and match them to current events to determine when Christ would return, but Christ Himself assures us, “‘of that day or hour, no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.’”  So what are we supposed to do?
    Well, we wait (thanks, Captain Obvious!).  But how do we wait?  We wait in joyful hope, but we wait as those awaiting the imminent return of the Master, waiting in such a way that we’re not caught off-guard.  What do I mean?  Don’t live in such a way that you think you have more time, because you never know.
    We do have a very young parish.  I would guess that the average age of parishioners is somewhere around 40-45.  And one of the downfalls of being young is thinking that we have more time.  Those who are more senior know that their days are limited, and the end is likely closer than the beginning.  So they tend to make decisions differently than those who think they have a long time.
    I think about when I was younger.  I know I’ve told this story before, but when I was old enough to be left at home, but still under the age of eighteen, my parents would often give me some sort of chore to do before they returned home, like washing the dishes, or sweeping the floor.  There were a few times where I neglected to do those chores earlier, and then remembered that I had not done what they had asked me to do as the car started down the driveway.  In case you’re wondering, that’s not the way we should approach the return of Christ.
    Living as disciples should be something that pervades all our life.  It’s not a part-time job, or a chore to accomplish at the last minute, or a hobby.  It’s a relationship with Christ, that should define who we are, much like marriage defines a man or a woman who is married.  The couple who treats their relationship like a part-time job, or a chore, or even an enjoyable hobby, does not stay together for long.  Instead, their marriage affects their work, their choices, their vacation plans, and all of what they do.  It may not be explicit, but it at least implicitly modifies all their life.  
    And if that is how we live as Catholics, then whenever the end comes, it will not catch us off-guard.  When Christ returns in glory, and He raises all the dead for the universal judgement, we will find it the consummation of the way we have lived our lives, rather than a shock and awe event.  It will be like the husband who has served overseas in the military for years, who finally gets to see his wife when he returns home.  They will hardly be able to contain their joy at reuniting after those long days, months, and years.  Their days, months, and years of remaining faithful to each other; of not living like a single person, though they were separated from their spouse; of not going out to the bars at times because the temptation to stray would prove too strong; of choosing to send and email home rather than playing cards with the guys would all prove worth it, because they remained faithful, even when it was difficult.
    Emilio, as we welcome you today into the Catholic Church, you are not done.  Yes, you don’t have to meet with Amanda each week to help discern if you are ready to join us.  Yes, you will have access to the entire sacramental life of the Church from this day on, and not only be joined to us through Holy Baptism.  But you are beginning a new part of life where Christ desires and deserves your fidelity.  Your relationship with Him should guide how you work, how you invest, your friendships and relationships, your actives, your vacations, and all of life, just like the same should be true for all those here who are already Catholics.  But, because you are joining with us, you have all the aides that Christ has provided through His Holy Church to make sure that you are living for Him, and stand ready for His return.  We rejoice with you today, but we also recommit ourselves as we help you live like a Catholic each day until the return of Christ.
    Because we know neither the day nor the hour.  We don’t know when St. Michael will begin the final battle, when the trumpet will sound, when the angels will gather the elect from the four corners of the world.  But we do know that, if we are doing our best to stay faithful to the relationship we have with Christ, then, as the Protestant hymn says, “what a day of rejoicing that will be!”

Waiting

First Sunday of Advent

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.].  Advent, I would argue, is a time that is particularly good for our current culture.  I say that, because Advent is a time of waiting.  And we are, as a culture, really bad at waiting.  We are bad at waiting because, more often than not, we don’t have to wait for anything.  If I want to know something, I do a Google search or ask Siri, and almost instantaneously get a response.  If I want food, I pre-order it on my app so that it’s waiting for me when I arrive.  I spend the money for Amazon prime so that I can get almost anything I want within two days of ordering it.  If I need to send a message I can get it to the person immediately by email or texting.  We really don’t wait for that much in life anymore.
    There are obvious exceptions.  We generally still wait for weddings (though even those are happening much more quickly these days, as people, sadly, decide not to get married in the church).  We wait for babies to be born (though as a man, I’m not sure I can truly appreciate the desire of a woman, especially in the last weeks of her term, for the baby to exit the womb).  Those two precious events necessitate waiting, but the wait is worth it, as the joy of celebrating is even greater after the weeks and months of desiring that momentous event.
    Advent’s wait is primarily twofold: the remembrance of the waiting of the Chosen People for their long-awaited Messiah, and our waiting for that same Messiah, Jesus Christ, to return to us in glory.  The waiting of the Chosen People began before they were even a people.  Adam and Eve, after their fall, heard God’s promise of a redeemer, as God told the snake who had led to the Fall: “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; He will strike at your head while you strike at his heel.”  Even then, at the beginning of creation, God promised a redeemer, the offspring of Eve, who would strike at the head of the serpent.
    Fast-forward some centuries to Abraham, our father in faith.  Scripture scholars estimate that Abraham lived sometime between 2100 and 2000 BC.  When God called Abraham out of Ur of the Chaldeans, God promised that Abraham would become a great nation, and a source of blessing for “all the communities of the earth.”  Of course, that happened through our Savior, the son of Abraham, but it took some over two thousand years for that promise to come true. 

From atop Mt. Nebo, where Moses recounted the Exodus for the Chosen People

    Fast-forward to around the 1400s BC to Moses, reminding the Israelites of all that had happened to them since they left Egypt.  Moses prophesied, “‘A prophet like me will the Lord, your God, raise up for you among your own kinsmen; to him you shall listen.’”  The Gospel according to St. John makes clear that some believed our Lord to be “the prophet,” the fulfillment of Moses’ prophecy.  But they had to wait almost a millennium and a half.
    Fast-forward to around the year 1000 BC and King David, resting from all his enemies, desiring to build a temple for the Ark of the Covenant.  God promises David, as the prophet Nathan tells him, “‘I will raise up your heir after you, sprung from your loins, and I will make his kingdom firm.’”  Christ is the Son of David.  As our Lord entered Jerusalem for His Passion, the people chanted, “‘Hosanna to the Son of David; blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.”  And Christ even asks the Pharisees, “‘Whose son is [the Messiah]?’  They replied, ‘David’s.’” 
    Fast-forward to 445 BC, and the composition of the Book of the Prophet Malachi, the last prophet in what we call the Old Testament.  Through Malachi, God promises to send a messenger to prepare the way, and to send Elijah before the day of the Lord, and even that “there will come to the temple the Lord whom you seek.”  But even this was 445 years before our Lord was even born!  If you put the average age of a person at 45, that’s nine generations between Malachi and the Nativity.  Or, to put it another way, if you were around at the time of the first Christmas, the prophecies of Malachi were at the time of your great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather.  That’s a lot of waiting!!  And you thought waiting for Michigan to beat Ohio State in Columbus was long!!
    And we have been waiting almost 2,000 years for Christ to return in glory.  God continues to speak to us through His Church, and we hear about, and maybe even experience, miracles by which God reinforces His presence and love for us.  But we can become complacent, and think and act like Christ will not return.  He, Himself, tells us in the Gospel according to St. Matthew, that it will be like in the days of Noah, where Noah had prepared the ark according to God’s command.  Sill, there was some waiting before the rain fell, and people probably thought Noah was nuts.  But once the rain came, they had wished they had prepared. 
    Christ also tells us, in the Gospel according to St. Luke, that when we see the signs, we should be ready for the His return.  Those signs have been with us each century, which is Christ’s way of telling us to always be ready, because He could return at any time.  Our wait could be over in a heartbeat.  Have we given up on waiting because it’s been so long?  Or are we ready each day for Christ to return in glory? 
    It can be difficult to wait so long.  It can be difficult to live as we are supposed to when we don’t get what we want immediately.  The works of darkness can seem so tempting when we think we have time.  Instead, God calls us to put on the armor of light, to put on the Lord Jesus Christ, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit live and reign for ever and ever.  Amen.  

Waiting in the Tomb

Fifth Sunday of Lent
    The summer after my first year in college seminary, I worked at St. Thomas Aquinas in East Lansing as a custodian.  And on a sunny, hot day on 2 July, I was working with my supervisor–a gruff older man named Grady–on trimming the bushes around the school.  Some of the work wasn’t bad; we were using gas-powered hedge trimmers.  But some of the bushes were big, taller than any of us, and we needed to trim the top.  Grady was convinced that the best way to trim the tops was to put me in the bucket of a tractor, and lift me up so I could reach the branches.  I hated the idea, but didn’t want to say no to my supervisor. 
    So I started to get in the bucket, my mind racing with the hundreds of ways that this could end with a lost limb or fatality.  But, before the bucket could be raised, the secretary radioed for me to come to the office.  Somehow, I knew something wasn’t right, so while my first few steps were at a regular pace, I quickly sped up and ended up running to the office.  It was there that the secretary told me that my sister, Amanda, had been in a bad car accident, and I needed to get to Sparrow Hospital in Lansing quickly so that I could ride in the ambulance down to Ann Arbor with my other family members as my sister was air-lifted to U of M Hospital.  Fr. Dave, the pastor, drove me to the hospital in Lansing, where my sister ended up having surgery, rather than going to U of M. 
    I knew something was wrong, so I ran, and I’m willing to bet that Fr. Dave drove faster than the posted speed limit to get me to the hospital.  And yet, when Jesus gets word that his friend, Lazarus, is ill, St. John says, “[Jesus] remained for two days in the place where he was.”  What was Jesus doing? 
    Jesus knew exactly what He was doing, and what He was going to do.  We heard Jesus say, “‘Our friend Lazarus is asleep, but I am going to awaken him.’”  This may seem cold, Jesus waiting for Lazarus to die, and then raise Him from the dead.  But it was part of the Father’s plan, for the good of Lazarus, for the good of Martha and Mary, for the good of the apostles and disciples, and even for Jesus’ good. 
    It didn’t seem that way for Martha.  She said to Jesus, “‘Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.’”  But, even in the midst of her grief and confusion, Martha trusts in Jesus, and the power of God to do anything, even raise someone from the dead.  Mary, too, when she comes to see Jesus, repeats the refrain of Martha, “‘Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.’”  Mary, who had sat at the feet of Jesus to hear Him, while Martha worried about being hospitable, is now wondering what Jesus was doing, and why Lazarus had to die. 
    But Jesus is not callused to the death, either.  When Jesus came to the tomb, He cries.  This is the shortest verse in the entire New Testament: “And Jesus wept.”    Faced with the loss of His friend, Jesus cries.  He even took on our sorrow in the face of the death of a friend.  As Jesus goes to raise Lazarus, the crowd does not believe.  Even Martha says, “‘Lord, by now there will be a stench; he has been dead for four days.’” 
    And then, after this long, drawn-out episode of Lazarus getting ill, Jesus waiting, Jesus greeting Martha, and then Mary, and then going to the tomb, it all changes.   “‘Lazarus, come out!’” Jesus says loudly.  And Lazarus does.  And the Jews began to believe in Jesus.
    We’re in week two of no public Masses.  Now we have a Stay At Home order from Governor Whitmer.  School is still out.  We’re trying to prevent deaths from COVID-19 by our social distancing, but it almost feels like the world is dead.  It seems like there has been no life.  Many people aren’t even leaving their houses, or doing so very sparingly.  With so many people staying inside their homes, by now, there will be a stench! 
    And yet, the Lord is doing something.  Somehow, according to the will of the Father, this is for our good.  It seems like Jesus is waiting too long.  Things are dire!  We need a cure now!  We need this to end now!  But He’s still waiting.  So what is on the other side of this pandemic?  We don’t know, other than it’s new life.  And somehow, God will be glorified, and others will have the opportunity to believe in Jesus. 
    I know we want to rush this, and get this over as soon as possible.  Believe me, as much as I am grateful to Tommy for Facebook live broadcasting me to you, I’d rather have you here!  I’d rather celebrate the holiest week of the year with you.  But, for now, we wait in the tomb with Lazarus.  For now, we wait for the Lord to act.  And while we wait, we reaffirm our trust, that when the Lord Jesus does act, it will mean new life for each of us.  So let us wait with joyful hope to hear those words of our Lord: Come out!  And we will be unbound, and able to live in the freedom of the resurrection. 

Keeping up the Intensity

Third Sunday of Advent

            I’ve been mentioning at each set of Masses that I have in this new liturgical year that 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 of the Mass and help us understand how they connect to our readings, our faith, and especially the Christian life beyond these walls.

            In our Advent preface, the prayer that precedes the Holy, Holy, Holy, and which has been prayed for these past two weeks, we ask God that, “we who watch for that day may inherit the great promise in which now we dare to hope.”  As Christians, we are meant to be ready, watching and waiting for Jesus to return.  We should live our lives in such a way that should Jesus come back at the end of this Mass, we would be ready to welcome Him, and not afraid of what our judgment would be.  We shouldn’t need a few days to clean up our act and prepare for judgment, but should be ever ready for Christ to judge us.  But we can struggle with this.  After 1,980 years of waiting, perhaps we second-guess ourselves about Jesus really coming back.  Maybe we don’t live life always ready for Jesus to return.  Maybe our faith starts to falter, and we question a life as a faithful disciple, ever obedient to the commands of the Lord.

            We’re not alone.  St. John the Baptist did the same thing as he was sitting in prison.  He had pointed out the Lamb of God, and prepared people by repentance to follow Jesus.  He had even seen the Spirit descend upon Jesus in the Jordan, and had heard the voice of the Father say, “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”  And now there he was, sitting in prison, and nothing seemed different.  “Maybe it was a mistake,” he thought, “maybe I got the wrong guy.”  And so he sends messengers to ask Jesus if He truly is the Messiah.  The Kingdom hadn’t been ushered in the way John wanted, and so he doubted.

            The early Christians also questioned.  Many of them expected Jesus to come back within their lifetime.  They would pray each Sunday, “Maranatha!  Come, Lord!”  And yet, after all those years of praying, He still had not returned.  That is why St. James tells them in the second reading, “Be patient, brothers and sisters, until the coming of the Lord…Make your hearts firm…Take as an example of hardship and patience…the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord.”  In the midst of suffering (and there were plenty then), St. James encourages them to stay the course and not back out because Jesus has not returned on their timetable.

            Maybe we’re not as concerned with Jesus’ second coming as the first century Christians; maybe we don’t expect the Messianic reign in the same way that St. John the Baptist did.  But it’s easy to question our faith when our lives are not going the way we want them to, and we feel like Jesus is not living up to His promises.  Maybe our prayer is dry, and it feels like just going through the motions.  Maybe there is great suffering in our life due to illness, a broken relationship with a friend or family member, or maybe we are doubting that we will really be rewarded for being a follower of Jesus. 

            Jesus responds to John that the signs of the Kingdom are different than what was expected: “‘the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them.’”  That may not have been what was hoped for, but Jesus is instituting His Kingdom in His way.  Jesus responds to us, too, “‘blessed is the one who takes no offense at me.’”  In other words, blessed are those who allow me to work in the lives in the way Jesus wants, not necessarily the way we want.  Maybe the dryness in prayer is actually a vehicle to desire God all the more.  Maybe the illness is a reminder that life is short, and a call to repentance and to join in the sufferings of Christ to alleviate past sins.  Maybe a broken relationship is an opportunity for us to acknowledge how our personality and temperament can sometimes drive people away.  Maybe the doubt is an opportunity to go deeper in trust of Jesus. 

            It can be difficult when we’re waiting to keep up the same intensity throughout a long period of time.  It can be difficult when Jesus does not work on the timetable that we want.  But each Advent we are reminded that Jesus will return again, and that we need to make sure that we are ready to welcome Him back.  I hope we never grow tired of saying with our hearts and voices, “Maranatha!  Come, Lord!”

Still Waiting

Third Sunday of Advent

            A few weeks ago I went to Rome on pilgrimage as a way of giving thanks to God for ordaining me a priest.  I had arranged all my travel, and was waiting at the airport for a driver to pick me up and take me into the City and to my hotel.  My flight had arrived on time; I had picked up all my baggage; I walked out ready to see a man holding a sign saying “Fr. Anthony Strouse.”  But no so much man was there.  So I waited.  And I waited.  And as I waited I started to go through all the scenarios that could be occurring, and wondering if I needed to make other plans.

An icon of St. John the Baptist from a
monastery in Israel

            That’s sort of where we find St. John the Baptist in today’s Gospel.  He has been proclaiming repentance to prepare people to receive the Messiah, he had pointed out the Messiah as the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world, and he had even baptized the Messiah.  And then Jesus started preaching.  And then John got arrested.

            And you can imagine the puzzle that John’s mind was trying to figure out as he sat in jail, wondering if his cousin, Jesus, was really the Messiah.  Was this the way that God rewarded his prophets, by letting them sit in jail?  Surely something must be wrong.  And so he sends a few of his disciples to ask that coy question: “‘Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?’”  In other words, John is wondering if he bet on the right horse.

            Today as a Church we celebrate Gaudete Sunday, or Rejoice Sunday.  We light the rose candle because we are almost done with Advent.  The darkness of the purple lightens up to a rose color because of our joy, but our joy is not yet filled, we are not yet to the white of Christmas.  We are in a similar place as John the Baptist was in our Gospel.  We have joy, as did John because he had pointed out the Messiah, but we’re not there yet, we’re not to the fullness of the joy of Christmas, just as John wasn’t to the fullness of the reign of the Messiah.

            But this also applies to us as Catholics awaiting the Lord to come again in glory.  We are filled with joy because He has already conquered sin and death by His death and resurrection.  We know that a new kingdom, a kingdom of love and truth, justice and mercy, is being established, and has been prepared for us.  But we’re not experiencing it yet.  We are sitting in the darkness of our fallen world, and we can wonder if Christ is truly going to come again.  And if you’re a high school or college student, you are hoping that Christ will come again very soon, so all the stress of finals and exams will be over.  We are wondering if we have bet on the right horse.  We are wondering if all these stories, which we have heard about Jesus, are true, or if they were just nice stories created to keep us in line.

            That is why the Church today also gives us as a second reading the letter from the apostle James.  That is when James tells us: “Be patient, brothers and sisters, until the coming of the Lord.  See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains…Make your hearts firm, because the coming of the Lord is at hand.”  How fitting the metaphor is for a university that began as an Agricultural College!  We, like the farmer, may not see the seeds opening up under the earth and starting to sprout, especially with the winter snow on top of the earth, but in the spring, if we have patience and give the seed time to grow, we will see the shoot sprout from the earth and bring us the beauty of the flower. 

            The temptation to doubt the promises that Christ made happen easy enough.  When we are praying for something that we feel we need, either for ourselves or for someone else: for some material good; for healing; for family peace and harmony; for a good grade on an exam.  All these things are good and yet so often our prayers are not answered the way we would like them to be.  It leads us to wonder if this is really the good Lord that we were told about when we were younger, or if that was just a story to help us through the tough times.

            These prayers that are not answered as we hoped can often lead us to wonder, like St. John the Baptist, if we have not all been deceived.  But just as my driver did arrive after a not-too-long wait, and just as Isaiah promised in our first reading that “Those whom the Lord has ransomed will…enter Zion singing, crowned with everlasting joy,” so too will we, if we are patient and wait with fidelity for the Lord, shall share in the same heaven that St. John the Baptist won by his martyrdom for Christ, and which God has prepared for all of his faithful children.  When we put our trust in God, we realize that He actually knows what we need better than we know ourselves.  And so when we don’t get that special gift for Christmas; when someone very near to us does not recuperate from an illness; when our families still struggle with division and anger; when we didn’t get that A on the final or that we had prayed for, still, we are patient and wait to see how God will manifest His great love to us in a way that, more often than not, far surpasses the meager joys for which we had prayed. 

So rejoice and be glad!  God does love you and is answering your prayers in greater way that we expect, even if it doesn’t come exactly how or when we expect it.  Rejoice and be glad!  Christmas is almost here.  Rejoice and be glad!  Your Lord is coming and will not delay.