Jump In! The Water's Great!!

First Sunday of Lent

            For many young children, and this was certainly true in my own life, there’s nothing quite as fun and as scary as water.  Right now we’d all probably love it to be a little warmer, so let’s think about a pool or a lake in the hot summer sun.  The adults are all in, splashing around, swimming, maybe diving if it’s safe.  And the little kid is waiting on the shore or on the patio, wondering if it really is ok to jump in.  All the adults say it’s fine, that you’ll naturally float.  And yet, it’s hard to trust that water.

            Water for the ancients was a sign of chaos and death.  In the beginning of the Book of Genesis, God separates the land from the water and orders the earth.  But the waters were still chaotic.  Imagine an early mariner trying to navigate the seas, when storms seem to pop up from nowhere, and currents take you places you do not want to go.  Even those who wanted to enjoy the water for recreation had to beware of the undertow and strong waves that could do real damage.

            This idea of the danger of water was reaffirmed in the story of Noah and the Great Flood.  Water becomes the agent of God wiping out the evil of the earth, and from which Noah and his family are saved by the ark.  And this is why St. Peter sees baptism as prefigured in the story of the Great Flood: in baptism, the elect go down, under the water, symbolizing the death of Christ, and then they rise to new life as they are pulled up from the water.  Just like Noah, Christians are saved from the destruction of chaos, this time not by a boat, but by Jesus Christ.

            With all this talk about baptism, you might think we’re celebrating the Baptism of the Lord. Even our Gospel passage is situated immediately after Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan by St. John the Baptist.  But that was over a month ago in January.  We’re still in Lent.  So why all this talk about baptism?

            This Lent is a microcosm of what happens to us after our baptism.  Just like with Jesus, as He was driven into the desert by the Holy Spirit after His baptism, so, too, after our baptism do we begin a time of wandering in the desert, guided by the Holy Spirit, waiting to come to the end of our penitential pilgrimage to the joys of the heavenly Kingdom. 

            After we are baptized, we have grace from God to follow him, which is why we often baptize children: because we know they need the grace so they can eventually make it out of the desert and into the oasis of heaven.  But let’s be honest, there are a number of times where, unlike Jesus, we fall to the temptations of Satan.  Still, our entire lives are trying to pass through the desert of a sinful world and make it to the oasis, the garden of heaven, after the example of Jesus’ 40 days in the desert.

            And, just like Jesus, who had angels ministering to him among the wild beasts, we, too have angels helping us on our way through this Valley of Tears.  Our post-baptismal time is not only a time of suffering and self-denial, but is also a time of joy as we celebrate happy occasions.  But, even with these happy occasions, the fact remains that we’re not at the destination yet, and that is the source of our sadness.  As St. Paul says, while we are in the body (here on earth), we are away from our eternal home (where our body will be free from all that limits us and drags us down). 

            So how do we make it through this desert?  How do we come to the oasis?  We progress in the desert as we progress in the spiritual life.  The more we say yes to God and no to sin, the further along we are.  Sometimes we’re like the Israelites, who were not far from the Promised Land, but who, because of sin, had to wander around a while because they lost their way by not trusting in God.  When we sin, we start walking away from God and away from heaven, and start walking to hell, which is exactly the place we don’t want to be. 

            So through our penitential practices, we’re trying to train the body to recognize the signs of approaching the Promised Land.  By denying ourselves good things, we train ourselves to recognize the One who is Goodness Himself, and from whom all things, which are good, get their goodness.  Through increased prayer, whether increasing the time with the Lord, or increasing the quality of time we spend with the Lord, we get directions for how to arrive quickly to that Promised Land and start receiving some of its goodness even here on earth.

            The good news is that Jesus has gone before us and blazed the trail for us through the desert.  If we follow His path, then we know we’ll arrive at the same place he did.  Of course, on that path is the cross, and some of us would rather avoid that.  But the only way to get to the resurrection is through the cross.  So if we want to share in the Paradise of Heaven, then we have to pass through the Desert of Suffering and unite it with Jesus’ own sufferings.  But, we’re not alone; we also have myriad of saints who can help us along the way, both by seeing where they went and how they arrived at heaven, as well as by their assistance through our prayers to them for their help in our own pilgrimage. 

            We, like the saints who help us, are called to help the catechumens as they prepare for baptism, confirmation, and the Eucharist, and the candidates as they prepare to make their profession of faith, and are then confirmed and receive the Eucharist.  (At this Mass, we will send them to Bishop Boyea with our prayers as their desires for union with the Church are accepted by our local Good Shepherd).  In the back of the Church we have an opportunity to take a slip of paper with a name of a catechumen or candidate so that, as they prepare for full initiation, they know that we are supporting them as they prepare to join us on the straight and narrow road that baptism provides to the Kingdom. 

            Jesus Christ has shown us the way, because He is the Way, and the Truth, and the Life.  During this Lenten season of penance, let’s remember and recommit ourselves to following His Way, so that we can pass through this desert, this Valley of Tears, and come to the Paradise promised to those who follow Him faithfully.

Leprosy?

Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            Sometimes people will ask me when I start preparing my homily.  We were taught at Sacred Heart to always take a look at the readings for the following Sunday by the previous Monday, at the latest.  When looking over them I tend to look for trends or themes in the readings, and then to mull it over for a good couple of days, letting the readings bounce around in my head and seeing what the Lord wants me to say.  Sometimes I end up zeroing in the Gospel, other times it’s a combination of two of the readings, and on rare occasions, all three readings seem to have a similar theme.

            Looking over the readings this past week, the theme of the readings as I looked them over seemed to be leprosy.  It’s a major point in our first reading and Gospel passage today.  But I wondered, ‘What am going to do with that?’  This is a homily, not a medical school lecture (although it is important to note that the leprosy the Bible speaks of could be a number of skin ailments, and was most likely not limited to Hansen’s Disease).

            What struck me were the two different approaches God takes to leprosy.  In the first reading, God tells Moses and Aaron that “‘The one who bears the sore of leprosy shall keep his garments rent and his head bare, and shall muffle his beard; he shall cry out, “Unclean, unclean!”  […] He shall dwell apart, making his abode outside the camp.’”  In essence, God is telling Moses and Aaron, and all the priests and scribes that will follow and interpret this passage, to ostracize the leper.

            And yet, when it comes to the Gospel, Jesus not only welcomes the leper into His presence, but even touches the man.  This seems the exact opposite reaction to God’s warning in the Old Testament.  It’s not hard to see how, as a Jew at the time of Jesus, it was confusing for this apparent carpenter’s son from Nazareth to claim He was God, yet at the same time seem to go against what God had said in Sacred Scripture.  It’s also easy to see how one of the early heresies of the Church, Marcionism, asserted that the God of the Old Testament was a wrathful, angry God and was a lower deity than the God of the New Testament, proclaimed by Jesus to be loving, forgiving, and welcoming to the outcast. 

            But, Jesus is the same God, of the same substance (hence we use the term in our Creed consubstantial) as God the Father.  They are distinct Divine Persons, but the same deity.  And we cannot separate the two into different revelations, as if the Old Testament is opposed to the New Testament.  Rather, the New Testament is the fulfillment of the Old Testament.  So what do we do with these two readings?

            In my meditation on these Scriptures, I found that leprosy could be interpreted allegorically to mean not so much a physical illness, but a spiritual illness.  And in general, we can refer to the illnesses of the soul as sin.  So what we’re really working with is the way God treats sin.

            God was slowly teaching His people, the Chosen People, about who He is, and how the world works.  As He taught them about leprosy, and how it distances people from the community, we can easily see how this is also true of sin.  One of the effects of sin is that it damages or ruptures our relationship with God and our relationship with each other, including even the rest of the created world.  Remember that all the world was in harmony in the Garden of Eden, but after Adam and Eve sinned, the whole created order was ruined, and even the plants stopped bearing fruit easily for our first parents, the animals, rather than being obedient and docile to them, started to either run away or to attack them, and even Adam and Eve started to desire each other not in accord with Divine Law, and so had to cover their nakedness.  Certainly, all was not totally ruined.  Adam and Eve were still carrying in them the image of God, but that image had been marred, and all creation felt the effects of the original sin.

            Jesus, as the full revelation of the Father, does not deny that sin damages or ruptures the relationship with God and with the community, but completes the message that God wanted to communicate, that He is also the one who can heal sin.  Yes, sin injures us and causes separation, but if we come to the Lord, then He heals us of our sins and restores us to a right relationship with God and with each other.  Sin does not get the last word, but grace does. 

            These two passages are not used to explain the Catholic teaching on the Sacrament of Reconciliation, but read allegorically, it can help us to understand that sacrament.  Because sin damages our relationship with God and with each other, we need someone who can represent both God and the community, and to heal what has been injured.  And so the priest, acting in the Person of Christ the Head, speaks for Jesus in the words of absolution.  And the priest, also because he is able to act in the Person of Christ the Head, who is Head of His Body, the Church, acts in the Person of the Church to welcome the sinner back to communion with each other. 

            The Good News is that God has shown us the effects of sin: damaging our relationship with God and with the community in the Book of Leviticus.  But He does not leave us to be forever separated.  In the Person of Jesus, God reveals that the separation does not have to be forever.  If we come to Jesus, through the Sacrament of Reconciliation, we can be forgiven our sins and returned to a right relationship not only with God, but also with each other.  May we utilize this great sacrament of God’s love and forgiveness regularly, especially in the approaching season of Lent, and thank God that He has given us the divine remedy for the spiritual illnesses the plague us. 

In the bulletin this weekend is last week’s response from Bishop Boyea to the Health and Human Services mandate.  This past Friday, the Administration proposed a compromise that it felt would address the major issues with which not only Catholics, but also Evangelicals and members of the Jewish community and others have grave concerns.  To this proposed compromise the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops replied:

“[The compromise] continues to involve needless government intrusion in the internal governance of religious institutions and to threaten government coercion of religious people and groups to violate their most deeply held convictions…The only complete solution to this religious liberty problem is for the HHS to rescind the mandate of these objectionable services.

We will therefore continue—with no less vigor, no less sense of urgency—our efforts to correct this problem through the other two branches of government…and we renew our call to the Catholic faithful, and to all our fellow Americans, to join together in this effort to protect religious liberty and freedom of conscience for all.”

Again, this is not a partisan issue: this is an issue of the Federal government, even in this new proposal, being allowed to force institutions and individual citizens to violate their consciences.  As Catholic Americans, regardless of which party we support, we should work hard to make sure that the government can never tell any institution or person: Catholic, Christian, Jew, Muslim, Hindu or any person of faith to do something which is contrary to that institution’s or person’s faith.

"We're on a Mission from God"

 Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            Well, we all know that there’s a big game today.  To be honest, I’m not really a Giants or a Patriots fan.  I’ll cheer on the Giants tonight, mostly because I am a Payton Manning fan, and his younger brother, Eli, is playing for the Giants.  If I had my wish, the Detroit Lions would be playing this evening in the Super Bowl.  But, I suppose that if the Lions had played in the Super Bowl, and had won, then I would be coming back here, because we know that would be a sign that the end of the world was imminent.  

            But whether you’re a Giants fan or a Patriots fan, we all know that for each and every one of those athletes, their mind is on one thing and one thing alone: winning that game.  That is, as it were, their mission, and they’re probably hoping that they’re not on a Mission Impossible.

            What is our mission as Catholics?  As St. Thomas Aquinas parish and St. John Church and Student Center, we have a mission statement: “We are a Roman Catholic parish in a university community, joining students of all ages, joining people from all walks of life and from all corners of the world through Jesus Christ, our Lord.  As a Eucharistic people, we nurture spiritual growth through worship, evangelization, stewardship, education, service, justice, outreach and hospitality.”  This mission statement was crafted by members of our Parish Pastoral Council, which is a visionary board with the task of helping Fr. Mark with their advice of how the parish can fulfill that mission statement.

            But imagine being asked, “What is your mission?” on the street and trying to remember all of that.  It’s a great mission statement, but it would be hard to remember all of the wording.  Jesus, in today’s Gospel passage, give us His mission: “‘Let us go on to the nearby villages that I may preach there also.  For this purpose I have come.’”  Jesus’ mission is to preach.  And what is He preaching?  The Gospel, the Good News, of God’s love and Truth, made manifest in Jesus’ very Person. 

            This was also the mission of St. Paul.  We hear his words to the people of Corinth today in his first epistle: “If I preach the gospel, this is no reason for me to boast, for an obligation has been imposed on me, and woe to me if I do not preach it!”  Yes, it is a mission for Paul, but he also calls it an obligation.

            St. Paul has this obligation because he was called to be an apostle, one sent out by Jesus to preach Jesus, and Him crucified, as Paul says elsewhere, for the salvation of souls.  But what about us, who are not the bishops, the successors of the apostles?  What is our mission?  Well, if one part of the definition of the Church is the Mystical Body of Christ, and we are members of that Mystical Body through baptism, then our mission is the same as Jesus’: to preach.  But we do not preach ourselves because we cannot save anyone.  Only Jesus saves.  So we preach Jesus: His Word, His Teaching, His saving Gospel.

            This was affirmed by Vatican II on the Apostolate of the Laity: “The Church was founded for the purpose of spreading the kingdom of Christ throughout the earth for the glory of God the Father, to enable all men to share in His saving redemption, and that through them the whole world might enter into a relationship with Christ.”  This is what the Church calls the apostolate, when each and every member, each in his or her own way according to the individual state in life, is acting towards that purpose.  “In the Church,” the document continues, “there is a diversity of ministry but a oneness of mission…[The Laity] exercise the apostolate in fact by their activity directed to the evangelization and sanctification of men and to the penetrating of the temporal order through the spirit of the Gospel.”  In other words, while our parish mission statement is certainly helpful, we can really pare it down to the final words of Jesus in the Gospel according to Matthew: “‘Go and make disciples of all nations.’”

            So how do we do that?  We know the what, now what’s the how?  To be honest, there are as many ways to spread the Gospel as there are people here.  We can do it through the way we act and talk at work, the way we relax, the media we promote, etc.  Each day God gives us new opportunities to share with people how important our relationship with Jesus is so that they want the joy and the love that we have found in Christ and His Church.  We are obliged, as was St. Paul, to make Christ known through our actions and through our words.  We can’t just choose one.  If all we do is act uprightly, that’s a good start, but we need to speak about Jesus to those who do not know Him at all, or those who do not know Him fully.  If all we do is speak about Jesus but do not let that influence our actions, then we need to show people by our deeds that the words we speak are not hollow, but change the way we live.

            One opportunity to preach the Gospel has been handed to us recently by the Federal Government.  The United States Department of Health and Human Services has declared that health benefit plans must include coverage for sterilization, contraception, and abortion-inducing drugs, without an exception for those religions that teach that such coverage is contrary to its faith.  The Catholic Church in the United States will never comply with this mandate.  This nation is built upon the three-legged stool of the First Amendment.  Our precious freedoms of religion, speech, and assembly underlie everything this nation is, and everything this nation has ever accomplished.  Religious liberty gives the freedom to preach the Truth.  And the truth is that pregnancy is not a disease.  Nor is the natural fertility of a woman a disease.  Through the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops and the Michigan Catholic Conference, the Diocese of Lansing is exploring a number of options, including litigation and Congressional reform.  As these efforts move forward, we Catholics should make clear to our elected officials the crucial importance of religious liberty, and we should pray daily for those who have the responsibility of making these decisions.

            By the laity taking an active role in politics, advising their representatives, regardless of political party, that we will not allow the Federal Government to infringe upon the conscience rights of citizens, we preach the Gospel.  By insisting that Christian people not be compelled to participate in immoral activity, we participate in the mission of Christ to stand up for the Truth. This is not a partisan issue.  This is our obligation, our mission, as members of the Body of Christ, to preach the Gospel, always and everywhere, even when it is difficult.

Non Nisi Te: None but You, Lord

Solemnity of St. Thomas Aquinas

            St. Thomas Aquinas is known for a great many things.  On the lighter side, it is commonly held that St. Thomas was a very large man.  In fact, he was called the Dumb Ox in school, due to his large size and (ironically) seemingly slow-working intellect.  Stories are also told that at the table at which St. Thomas would usually sit for meals, a crescent had to be cut away so that he could sit close enough to the table to take his food.  On a more serious side, St. Thomas is known for his great writing: Summa Theologica, Summa contra Gentiles, Corpus Christi texts for Mass, the hymns: Tantum Ergo, Pange Lingua, Adoro Te, Devote, and so many more.  His intellectual understanding of the faith is, in my humble estimation, unrivaled by any person before or after him.

            And yet, there have been many smart people who are not saints.  And St. Thomas’ size, no matter whether the stories are true or false, did not create his holiness.  No, there was something else in St. Thomas’ life that was greater even than his love of knowledge.  And that trait is best described by a true story of St. Thomas.

            When St. Thomas was in Naples, celebrating Mass, the crucifix on the altar spoke to him, saying, “You have written well of me, Thomas.  What reward will you have?”  To this grand question from the Lord, St. Thomas answered, “None other than You, Lord.”  Those words in Latin, Non nisi Te, appear on the crest of our great parish school.

            None other than You, Lord.  What profound words from a man who had systematically progressed through the major and minor questions of the faith with stunning accuracy, such that, centuries later, Pope Leo XIII advised that all seminarians be required to study St. Thomas Aquinas (no other saint received such a recommendation, not even St. Augustine), and declared St. Thomas the patron of Catholic universities, schools, and students.  St. Thomas could have answered that he wanted more knowledge to complete his great Summa Theologica.  He could have answered that wanted to be assured of salvation for him and his family.  He could have asked for the flourishing of the order to which St. Thomas dedicated his life, the Order of Preachers or Dominicans.  But he simply said, “None other than You, Lord.”

            What a great question to ask ourselves: if Jesus spoke from this crucifix here in this church, or, indeed, from any crucifix, and asked me what I wanted, what would be my answer?  Would I ask for wisdom, money, power, friends, health, peace, an end to poverty, or assured salvation?  If so, we would not have answered as well as St. Thomas, and would not receive the fullness of the gift that God wants to bestow on us.  Sure, wisdom is good so we can choose to do good and avoid evil.  Money is a fine means of providing for our family, for the Church, and for helping to end poverty.  Power can be used to advance the respect for human dignity and justice.  Peace is the gift of the children of God in the beatitudes.  And who doesn’t want to be in heaven with God forever?  And yet, we should be asking God for the conversion to desire nothing but God alone, because He, as St. Thomas taught, is the greatest good, the good to be desired above all other goods.

            In desiring and receiving the Lord, we find that all those other things which are good and helpful, especially to our salvation, are provided for us anyways.  This is what our Lord means when He said, “seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given you besides.”  If we desire the Lord, and we open our hearts to receive Him, then nothing which is truly good will be denied us.

            In this Mass, we have the opportunity to deepen our love for our Lord, and to receive Him, especially through His Word and through His Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, present in the Most Holy Sacrament of the Eucharist.  How blest are our ears that they hear God’s Word, our minds that they are taught with heavenly wisdom, and our tongues that the receive the Lord of all creation under the appearance of bread and wine!

            So great was St. Thomas’ love of the Eucharist that, besides penning the texts for the Corpus Christi Mass, texts which we still use today, and writing eloquently about the Sacrament of Sacraments, when Thomas was dying and received the Eucharist for the last time in Viaticum, he said:

I firmly believe and know as certain that Jesus Christ, True God and True Man, Son of God and Son of the Virgin Mary, is in this Sacrament…I receive Thee, the price of my redemption, for Whose love I have watched, studied, and laboured.  Thee have I preached; Thee have I taught. 

 Knowing that he wanted nothing but the Lord, in his last hours of life, he affirmed that the Eucharist was precisely the great desire of his life, more than knowledge or any other gift.

            St. Thomas provides us with the example of what it means to prefer nothing above God.  It’s a tall order, but something which we are all called to do: whether priest or deacon, religious or consecrated person, married or single, adult or child.  Are we there yet?  Maybe some of you are.  I’m certainly still working on it.  But we know it’s possible because St. Thomas has shown us the way, a way that he did not create, but a way which he pointed out to us in showing us Jesus who is the Way.  As St. Thomas said, “God alone satisfies.”  Help us, O Lord, to purify our desires so that we can say with St. Thomas that we desire “none but You, Lord.”  Non nisi Te.  St Thomas Aquinas: pray for us!

"Little Baby Jesus" ~Ricky Bobby

Epiphany of the Lord

            Just a few weeks ago the trailer for “The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey” was released.  As a big “Lord of the Rings” fan, both the books and the movies, I was pretty excited.  It looks to be a good movie telling the first half of the tale of Bilbo Baggins’ adventure.  Still, there’s always a little awkwardness that can come when, if you’ve read the books, you picture characters looking a certain way, and then on the screen the actors with all their makeup look different than you pictured.

            Today, as we celebrate the Epiphany of the Lord, we celebrate Jesus showing Himself forth to the nations, the Gentiles, the non-Jews, represented in the three magi who came from the east.  The very word epiphany could be translated as “showing forth.”  And, in fact, the Solemnity of the Epiphany has, historically, celebrated the three manifestations of Jesus: to the magi, at His baptism, and at the wedding of Cana, where Jesus, in three different ways at different times, made Himself known to others. 

            But, sticking with the Gospel passage we have today, I wonder if the magi saw what they expected.  They told King Herod that they were traveling to see the “newborn king of the Jews.”  So when they showed up at the home of Joseph and Mary, and saw a little boy, living in humble circumstances, I wonder if they were taken aback.  As they were offering their precious gifts: gold for a king, frankincense for a deity, and myrrh for a rich burial, I wonder what they thought of this little boy.

            We, of course, have ways that we like to think of Jesus.  Maybe we’re like Ricky Bobby from “Talladega Nights,” and we like to think of our Lord as “little baby Jesus.”  Or maybe when we picture Jesus we think of a king in royal robes and a crown.  Perhaps we think of Jesus as a poor, itinerant preacher, a radical of His own day.  Or maybe we see Jesus as a strong carpenter.  Or when we think of Jesus, maybe we always see Him on the cross.  In whatever way we like to think of Jesus, it is still the case that Jesus continues to surprise us by his presence.

            For some, Jesus surprises them by being present today in his brothers and sisters: in the poor begging on the corner; in our family members, especially the ones that we want to avoid; in the terminally ill; in the elderly; in those with a same-sex attraction, or in broken marriages.  And yet, Jesus still makes Himself present in these people, who have inherent goodness because they are human persons, created in the image and likeness of God, who, no matter what good or bad choices they have made, still deserve our love and can still manifest Christ, even if it’s harder to see at times.  In these manifestations, Jesus continues to make Himself known, and we still are called to care for Him who lays hidden beneath those human frailties. 

The life of St. Martin of Tours, whom the Church celebrates on November 11^th, bares this out in a very clear way.  St. Martin was a soldier, and he was riding his horse in the cold winter.  Along the road was a poor man who barely had any clothes on and was freezing.  Martin cut his cloak in two with his sword, and gave half to that poor man so that he could warm, even if just a little.  That night, St. Martin had a vision of Jesus wearing that cloak, and realized what Jesus meant when, in Matthew 25, He said, “What you did for the least of my brothers and sisters you did for me.”

In our own times, there are a number of people, maybe right here in our own parish, who struggle to see Jesus manifest Himself through His Mystical Body, the Church.  And certainly, some members of the Church don’t always make it easy to see Christ in the Church.  We certainly are a corpus permixtum, as St. Augustine of Hippo calls us, a group made up of both sinners and saints.  And yet, in a mysterious way, the Church is the mystical and immaculate Body of Christ, without sin, and communicating the fruits of Christ’s own redeeming life to those who cling to it.  As Timothy Cardinal Dolan has said on many occasions, “Christ and his Church are one.”  You cannot have one without the other, period.  Or, to quote the Catechism, which quotes St. Cyprian of Carthage, “No one can have God as Father who does not have the Church as Mother.”

How often do we hear the phrase, again, sometimes from Catholics, “I’m spiritual, but not religious”?  Or, “I have a great relationship with Jesus, but I don’t want to mess it up by getting other people involved.”  When Jesus manifests Himself, even today, He does so always with His Mystical Body, the Church, and never apart from her.  To quote the great Vatican II theologian, Henri de Lubac, “For what would I ever know of him, without her?” 

Does this mean that everyone who represents the Church is always perfect and always right?  Certainly not.  Does this mean that we should never struggle with some of the teachings of the Church on matters of faith and morals?  Some people do struggle with what the Church teaches, seeking to understand what the Church has defined as belonging to the deposit of faith.  But, when it comes to matters of faith and morals, we can know that when the Church acts, it is Jesus acting through her, whether it’s on the Church’s teaching on abortion, contraception, the preferential option for the poor, marriage, who Christ is, who the Church is, and down the line.  We may not have been expecting to see Christ in that way, but just because we do not expect Christ to be shown forth in that way does not mean it is not Christ.  Maybe instead of wanting the Church to change to fit our desires, we need to change our desires to fit with the Church.

Jesus continues to manifest Himself to us, as He did to the magi 2,000 years ago.  As He likely shocked the magi then, sometimes He may shock us in His manifestation.  The question for us is whether, like the magi, we will choose to lay down what is precious for us: our time, our treasure, and our assent of the will in faith.  I would suggest that, for many of us, money and an independent will are the two things which are most precious to us.  Will we lay them down at the feet of Jesus Christ as He manifests Himself to us in the marginalized and in His Mystical Body, the Church?

The Blessing!

Solemnity of Mary, the Holy Mother of God

            Well, here we stand, at the beginning of a New Year, the Year of our Lord 2012.  On New Year’s Eve people around the world stayed up late to be awake at the moment we changed from 2011 to 2012, made New Year’s resolutions, perhaps kissed loved ones, and hoped that this new year will have fewer sorrows and more joys.  In essence, they were asking God to pour out His blessings upon them and their loved ones.

            The theme of blessing is unmistakable in today’s readings.  Our first reading begins with the Lord telling Moses to tell Aaron, the newly ordained priests of the covenant of Sinai, how to bless the Lord’s people: “‘The LORD bless you and keep you!  The LORD let his face shine upon you, and be gracious to you!  The LORD look upon you kindly and give you peace!’”  And God promises that when the priests do this, the Lord will truly bless them.  And in our responsorial psalm we hear the invocation of God’s blessing.  Even our second reading, though it does not contain the word “blessing,” talks about the true blessing of how “God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to ransom those under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons.”  St. Paul talks to us about our blessing of being made sons and daughters in the Son of God.

            But what is a blessing?  We use the word all the time, but do we understand it?  The word itself comes from two Latin words, bene and dicere, meaning to speak well.  When we bless people, we certainly speak well of them.  Still, when we talk about God’s blessing, we are talking about God whose Word is effective.  A blessing is not just a wish for good things, but when it comes from the Lord, it is an effective way of communicating God Himself through certain words.  Of course, blessings are not magic.  We must be open to the blessing to be able to receive the goodness that it is meant to convey.  But as long as we are open to the blessing, God’s grace is conferred upon us for our benefit.

            I would suggest that for the New Year, as we seek God’s blessing, God’s goodness, that we take this celebration as our starting point.  Today we celebrate Mary, the Holy Mother of God.  We celebrate the human woman, the highest honor of our human family, who said yes to God in all things, and so merited to be the Mother of our Redeemer, Jesus Christ.  And because Jesus is fully God, we rightfully call her the Mother of God, not just the mother of Jesus, as some heretics would do in the fourth century.

            Since Jesus Christ is the greatest blessing, as St. Paul reminds us in our second reading, because by His death and resurrection He has made us heirs to eternal life, and as the true High Priest has truly communicated God’s fullest blessings to us in having the courage to cry out, “Abba, Father!”, we should look to Mary to receive the fullness of these blessings, because it is only through Mary’s yes to God that we were able to receive the greatest blessing: Jesus our Savior.

            Now, do not confuse me.  I am not elevating Mary over Jesus, as if there is a quaternity rather than a Trinity.  We only believe in One God in Three Persons, and Mary is not a part of that Blessed Trinity.  But, we receive the grace of Divine Love in its fullest expression through Mary, and so it is through her that we receive Christ, even in our daily lives.  This is what that pious phrase, “To Jesus, through Mary,” means.  It means that, while we have access to the Father in Christ, we have access to Christ through Mary, His Mother, who is always leading us back to Jesus, and reminding us as she did at the Wedding at Cana, “Do Whatever He Tells You,” the very words we have in our Cana Chapel (here) at St. Thomas.  While our Gospel today spoke of Mary keeping all the mysteries that happened at Jesus’ birth, and reflecting on them in her heart, she does not keep our prayers to herself, but presents them to her Lord and her Son in faithful trust.  And what Son can refuse the prayers of so loving a mother?  Surely the author of the commandment “Honor your father and mother” would not refuse the request of His Mother, especially since her will is now united in heaven with the will of God.

Our Lady of Perpetual Help

            Catholics, for centuries, have turned toward the Mother of God, and since that day that Jesus gave Mary to us as our mother as He told His beloved apostle John, “‘Behold your mother,’” we have not ceased to turn to Blessed Mary, ever-Virgin to plead our cause and to present our prayers to her Son.  We need only think of the rosary, the Angelus, the first Saturdays, the brown scapular, and devotions to Our Lady of Perpetual Help, La Virgen de Guadalupe, Our Lady of Sorrows, the Immaculate Heart of Mary, and so many others.  Sadly, many of these faded after Vatican II.  But as Pope Bl. John Paul II reminded us so frequently, that was not the Council’s intent.  With the words of his papal motto: Totus tuus—Totally yours, our late pontiff reminded us of the love we should have for Mary.

            In this New Year, let us be bold in asking God for His blessings.  Let us approach Him as we would a loving Father.  And how many times, when wanting something from our earthly fathers, have we, wisely, asked our earthly mothers to intercede for us so that we may obtain the good things we need and want?  May we make our requests for blessings through the intercession of our Blessed Mother each day, by uniting our lives to Christ through her.  May her name be on our lips as we rise each morning, and in thanksgiving for her assistance as we fall asleep each night.  For me it is as simple as the pious prayer, Mater mea, fiducia mea: my Mother, my confidence at the beginning of the day, and a hymn to Mary, usually the Salve Regina, as I go to bed.  Or we can make our own the Morning Offering, as I do when I put on my scapular: O my God, in union with the Immaculate Heart of Mary, I offer thee the Precious Blood of Jesus from all the altars throughout the world.  O my Jesus, I desire today to gain every indulgence and merit I can, and offer them, together with myself, to Mary Immaculate, that she may best apply them in the interests of thy Most Sacred Heart.   O Precious Blood of Jesus, save us!  Holy Mary, mother of God, mother of the Church, and our mother: pray for us!

God Sees His Son

Nativity of the Lord, Mass during the Day

            Have you ever noticed how everyone seems to soften in the presence of a baby?  It makes sense that mothers are very soft and tender in the presence of a child because of their motherly instincts.  But it even happens with the gruffest, toughest men.  In the presence of a baby even the sternest face can be softened by a smile, and the epitome of a man’s man starts talking gibberish, trying to communicate with the child and get it to smile back.

            Today we rejoice in the fact that, in the fullness of time, right when God wanted it, when all the conditions were as God knew in His Divine Wisdom they needed to be, the invisible God who could not be seen, the Word through whom all things were made, and without whom nothing came to be, became visible in the flesh.  God was made known to the world as a baby.  While we have grown used to this fact over 2,000 years of Christian activity, this was unthinkable, truly awesome, and even somewhat scandalous to Jews and Gentiles alike.

            In the past, as we heard in the second reading, “God spoke in partial and various ways to our ancestors through the prophets.”  From the very beginning, when God created Adam and Eve in His own likeness and walked among them in the Garden of Eden, God had wanted to be close to the crown of His creation.  He wanted to be with us in all things.  And even when, through Adam, sin entered the world, He continued to reveal Himself partially to the Chosen People: to Abram, telling him to leave Ur of Chaldea and go to the land of Canaan, where he would become Abraham, the father of many nations, and in the form of three visitors to announce the conception of Isaac, the son of the promise; to Moses in the Burning Bush and on Mount Sinai; to all the Chosen People in the form of a pillar of cloud and fire, leading them through the desert; through the prophets, those chosen by God to speak for Him to a people who constantly preferred to wander away from God, rather than be close, especially Isaiah, Jeremiah, Elijah, Ezekiel, and others. 

But this was always a partial revelation of God.  In Bethlehem, when Jesus was born, we had the chance to see that God had fulfilled the prophecies that a Virgin would bear a Son and would name Him Emmanuel, God-with-us.  In the Nativity of Jesus according to the flesh a marvelous exchange took place, what the Church Fathers called admirabile commercium.  In this great exchange, God took our sinful nature to Himself, though He was free from sin, and united it fully to His divinity, so that we could live forever in heaven united to the Son.  In the words of St. Athanasius: God became man so that man could become God.

This is what St. John is speaking of when, in the Gospel passage we heard today, he writes, “But to those who did accept him he gave power to become children of God, to those who believe in his name, who were born not by natural generation nor by human choice nor by a man’s decision by of God.”  In Baptism we were made members of the Mystical Body of Christ, and our nature was joined to Christ, just as Christ joined His nature to ours at the Annunciation, which we celebrated 9 months ago. 

The Gospel, the Good News that this truly is should astound us!  Because if we have been baptized and united to the Mystical Body of Christ, then when God looks down on us, he no longer sees a child born of natural generation, but His only-begotten, beloved Son, just as when Mary and Joseph looked down at the Christ child, they did not just see a baby, but the eternal God in flesh.  In baptism, where we are born again by water and the Spirit, we become a son or a daughter in Christ the Son. 

This participation in the Sonship of Christ is no small thing!  “To which of the angels did God ever say: You are my son; this day I have begotten you?  Or again: I will be a father to him, and he shall be a son to me?”  Because Jesus joined our nature to His, humbling Himself to take on all that it means to be human: hunger, thirst, pain, temptation, we have a higher dignity than the angels of God.  You are a higher creation than an angel, because Christ was not an angel, nor did He become one of them.  He chose to join our nature to His, and so we join in the dignity of Christ who is “as far superior to the angels as the name he has inherited is more excellent than theirs.”

Do not cheapen, then, the great gift you have been given this Christmas, the gift of knowing that we can be united to Christ.  Do not count as worthless the great gift of being a part of His Body, the Church, with all the great gifts and duties that come along with membership in the People God has claimed for His own.  As Pope St. Leo the Great wrote in his Christmas sermon:

Acknowledge, O Christian, the dignity that is yours!  Being made a partaker in the divine nature, do not by an unworthy manner of living fall back into your former abjectness of life.  Be mindful of Whose Head, and of Whose Body, you are a member.  Remember, that wrested from the powers of darkness, you are now translated into the Light and the Kingdom of God.  By the sacrament of baptism you have become the temple of the Holy Spirit.  Do not, by evil deeds, drive out from you such a One dwelling with you, and submit yourself again to the bondage of the devil.  Because your price was the Blood of Christ; because in strictness He shall judge you Who in mercy has redeemed you, Who with the Father and the Holy Spirit, lives and reigns, world without end.  Amen.

Silent Night

Nativity of the Lord, Mass at Midnight

            I’ve mentioned before my deep love of the book The Lord by Romano Guardini, and it is the third chapter in book 1 that I reference tonight.  Guardini, writing in 1937, mentions in that chapter that in the Mass (what we would now call the Extraordinary Form), the words of the Book of Wisdom help to guide the feast: “‘For while all things were in quiet silence and the night was in the midst of her course, thy almighty word leapt down from heaven from thy royal throne…’”  He continues, “The passage, brimming with the mystery of the Incarnation, is wonderfully expressive of the infinite stillness that hovered over Christ’s birth.  For the greatest things are accomplished in silence—not the clamor and display of superficial eventfulness, but in the deep clarity of inner vision; in the almost imperceptible start of decision, in the quiet overcoming and hidden sacrifice…The silent forces are the strong forces.”

            We are here, in the midst of the silence of this sacred night, recalling an event that took place almost 2,000 years ago in the silence of the night in Bethlehem, which forever changed human history, whether you believe in Jesus or not.  As Christians we date time from this moment: everything which came before is BC—Before Christ.  Everything which took place afterwards is in AD—Anno Domini, the Year of the Lord.  Even those who wish to separate our dating of time from Christian belief, who use the term BCE (Before the Common Era) and CE (the Common Era), still point to the time when Jesus was born in the manger, in the silence of the night.

            The greatest things happen in silence.  The silent forces are the strong forces.  These words are no less true today than 75 years ago when Guardini wrote them.  The greatest things do happen in silence.  In silence the world was forever changed, not by some king, but by the King of kings; not by one who came to be served, but one who came to serve and give His life as a ransom for many; not by a strong, handsome adult, with thousands of Facebook friends, but by a child: a weak, helpless child, laying in a manger, surrounded by His Blessed Mother, His foster-father, and the animals of the stable. 

            But, as Isaiah prophesied, “upon his shoulder dominion rests.  They name him Wonder-Counselor, God-Hero, Father-Forever, Prince of Peace.”  Do not let his lowly birth fool you.  Do not scoff at his humility.  For the child that the shepherds came to adore: the child who was helpless in His mother’s arms, is the Almighty God who created the heavens and the earth.  That little child caused a bush to burn without being consumed, split the Red Sea in two so that the Chosen People, His people, could escape from the Egyptian army.  This child is weak, but He is no weakling.  He is mild, but He smashes the yoke of slavery that burdened us and tramples underfoot the evil serpent, Satan, crushing his head.

            That power, that glory, did not come with human activity: the decorating, the hurrying about, the shopping, the partying, but was announced only by angelic hosts to the shepherds in the fields, who heard them say, “‘I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.  For today, in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Christ and Lord.’”

            So why come here now?  Why come to this church in East Lansing?  Why come each Sunday back to the Mass which, even given our new translations, does not really change that much?  Why come in the midst of this dark, cold night to hear familiar carols being sung?  We can do that at home, listening to the radio!

            We come, in the dark, silence of this night, and each and every Sunday because He who was born in Bethlehem, the city of David, the “house of bread,” as the name Bethlehem means in Hebrew, because Jesus Christ is born again for us in this Mass: not as a child, but under the appearance of bread and win.  His most holy Body and Blood adorn not a manger, but this altar.  He is surrounded on earth not by His Blessed Mother and foster father, but by His mothers and brothers and sisters, those who do the will of His heavenly Father, as He tells us in Sacred Scripture.  This holy night, this night divine, in the silence, broken only by the words of the priest saying those same words that Jesus spoke—“Take this, all of you, and eat of it;” “Take this, all of you, and drink from it”—Jesus Christ is made present to us today and at every Mass sacramentally just as He was made manifest to the shepherds 2,000 years ago in the stable in Bethlehem.  We get the greatest gift of Christmas, the gift of being able to receive the same Jesus into us that the angels proclaimed in the heavens. 

            “Beloved: The grace of God has appeared, saving all and training us to reject godless ways and worldly desires 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.” 

            “‘For while all things were in quiet silence and the night was in the midst of her course, thy almighty word leapt down from heaven from thy royal throne…’”  In the silence of this night Jesus Christ unites His Divine nature to our human nature, not just in the remembrance of His Nativity, but in the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar.  O come, let us adore Him: Christ the Lord.

A Christmas Carol-Scripture Style

Third Sunday of Advent

            Each year around this time, there are certain Christmas specials that air year after year: TBS always seems to have “A Christmas Story” with the kid who wants a bb gun for Christmas, but whose parent’s won’t let him get it, because he’ll shoot his eye out; CBS always seems to show all the classics: “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” “Frosty the Snowman,” and “Charlie Brown Christmas.”  ABC Family has the 25 days of Christmas, so they’re running just about every show ever made about Christmas.  And I’ve seen a few channels showing “A Christmas Carol.”  Whether it’s the 1984 version with George C. Scott or the 2009 version with Jim Carrey’s voice, or the Disney version, or the Muppet version, “A Christmas Carol” has certainly stood the test of time.  Almost any person from a certain age onward can tell you about the three spirits that visit Ebenezer Scrooge to try to get him to change.

            We hear a lot about, not about the spirit of Christmas past, present, or to come, but the Holy Spirit in our first and second readings today.  In the first reading, Isaiah prophesies the Messiah as one filled with the spirit because he is anointed by the Lord “to bring glad tidings to the poor, to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to captives, and release to the prisoners, to announce a year of favor from the LORD and a day of vindication by our God.”  The time of the Messiah was one where the Spirit of God, or ruach elohim, would be very active, especially in the Messiah.  But it would also be active in all of the People of God, as Joel prophesies.  Joel writes, “Then afterward I will pour out my spirit upon all mankind…in those days I will pour out my spirit.”  This is what St. Peter references on Pentecost, as the Spirit descends, as the proof that Jesus is the Messiah.  St. Paul even says in the second reading: “Do not quench the Spirit.”

            We also see the Spirit at work in the Gospel through St. John the Baptist.  Of course, with St. John’s fire and passion, the Jews, priests, and Levites confuse John for the Messiah.  But John responds that he is the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy, the same one we heard last week, “‘the voice of one crying out in the desert, “make straight the way of the Lord.”’”  But John the Baptist is part of the sign that the fullness of time, the manifestation of the Messiah, is upon them.

            We ourselves live in this fullness of time, the time of the Kingdom of God, fully present in the Person of Jesus Christ, but not fully present yet on earth until He returns in glory to judge the living and the dead.  We ourselves have received of that same spirit, the Spirit of the Lord prophesied by Isaiah and Joel.  We ourselves have the same Spirit, granted, perhaps in a different way, as St. John the Baptist so that we can prepare the way and point out the Messiah, Jesus, as he comes among us.

            We first received that gift of the Spirit at our baptism.  We received another outpouring of the Spirit at our confirmation.  And we can receive the Spirit daily; we don’t just have to wait until Pentecost to pray for a greater outpouring and recognition of the gifts of the Spirit.

            How can we tell if we’re using the gifts of the Spirit?  How can we tell if we are actualizing the potential that God has given us?  Isaiah gives us a pretty good list.  Are we bringing glad tidings to the poor: do we assist the poor with our words of blessing, rather than calling them lazy?  Do we, when we can, share our material resources with the poor, even those who might be standing with the sign at the corner of the street?  There are many who use the excuse, “Well, he’s just going to get drunk with that money.”  If that’s a serious concern, go buy a sandwich or something, and drive back to give it to him or her.  On the other hand, at the final judgment, I don’t think God will blame you for giving money to a man who was poor, even if he does use it for alcohol. 

            Are we healing the brokenhearted?  Do our words build others up, or do they tear others down?  This is something that is very easy to fall into, but so important.  I’m sure we’ve all had a time when we’ve benefited from a kind word said just at the right moment.  You never know when that moment is going to be, so if we’re building each other up, not giving false compliments but truly trying to help others with our words, then we can be that blessing to others.  St. James says in his letter, “If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue…his religion is vain.”

            Are we freeing the prisoners?  No, this does not mean we start attempting jailbreaks.  But we probably each know at least one person, in addition to ourselves, who are held captive by a particular sin or addiction.  Are we helping them to find freedom by helping them end the things which lead them to sin or which enable them in their addictions?  God wants us to be free in Him, not enslaved to sin.  Are we on the side of slavery or freedom?

            God has anointed us and given us the Spirit, the robe of salvation, the mantle of justice.  The Spirit is our diadem that adorns us bridegrooms, or the jewels that adorn the brides.  With that Spirit, if we use it, we can proclaim the Messiah, just like St. John the Baptist.  We are called to be the ones crying out in the desert of sin: make straight the way of the Lord.