Easter Sunday (April 12, 2020)

This, indeed, is the central mystery of our faith. Jesus, allowing himself to be consumed with passion for righteousness and swallowed by death has, in turn, conquered death once and for all with the power that is the promise of eternal life.

Christ's pathway of passion, death and resurrection was personal: it was unique. It had been fashioned by the Father from all eternity. Jesus was faithful to God's vision for him; Jesus embraced his vocation as the humble, gentle Messiah; Jesus suffered the pain of death; Jesus experienced the power of rising again.

God has fashioned a personal path for each of us from all eternity. Each of us has a unique role to play in the Father's never-ending revelation of divine life, divine love, divine justice, divine peace and divine reconciliation. Still, the way to resurrection is the way of the cross - the way of giving up, the way of letting go, the way of surrendering any and all things, thought, attitudes and actions that prevent us from embodying the passion of Christ: the passion for all that is righteous and true.

Francis de Sales offers this image in Book 9 of his Treatise on the Love of God: "God commanded the prophet Isaiah to strip himself completely naked: this, the prophet did, and went about and preached in this way for three whole days (or, as some say, for three whole years). Then, when the time set for him by God had passed, he put his clothes back on again. So, too, we must strip ourselves of all affections, little and great, and make a frequent examination of our heart to see if it is truly ready to divest itself of all its garments, as Isaiah did. Then, at the proper time we must take up again the affections suitable to the service of charity, so that we may die naked on the cross with our divine Savior and afterwards rise again with him as new people."

Be certain of one thing: the daily dying to self that is part of living a passionate life is not about dying, stripping and letting go for its own sake. No, it is that all of who we are may be purified to more faithfully and effectively live lives of divine passion and compassion. God does not desire that we die to self out of self-deprecation, but that we die to self in order that, paradoxically, we may actually be more of who God calls us to be.

“Love is as strong as death to enable us to forsake all things,” wrote St. Francis de Sales. “It is as magnificent as the resurrection to adorn us with glory and honor.”

This glory and honor is not just reserved for heaven. To the extent that we die a little each day and experience the fidelity of God's love in the midst of all adversity, trials, struggles and “letting go,” we can experience something of the resurrection every day.

Passion Sunday (April 5, 2020)

St. Jane de Chantal had this to say about the passion of Our Lord, Jesus Christ:

"The Church proposes Passion Sunday to remind us of the sufferings of our Savior…in which the work of our redemption was so abundantly completed. Our redemption began from the instant of the adorable conception of the eternal Word in the womb of the Virgin, his Holy Mother, and it was completed in the passion of the Savior. This Sunday reminds us to prepare, by a holy recalling to mind of our Savior's toils and sufferings…considering what God has done for us and encourage ourselves to imitate Him. And, if it was necessary, as Scripture says, that the Son of God should enter into his glory and kingdom by a multitude of toils and tribulations, we are deceived if we think to enter there by any other way. Let us love: love our little sufferings and prepare ourselves by the consideration of those of our Lord…Let us strive to die indeed to ourselves, to our inclinations, and to all which corrupts our nature, and God will enable us to live a new life, in his grace and in his love, in this world, and then forever in his glory, giving himself as the reward for our little labors." (Conferences, Exhortation XI, page 117 - 118)

St. Jane also helps us to consider that the passion of Jesus is not only about suffering: it is ultimately about being obedient to, open to, and trusting in Divine Providence. "It is a true point of the highest and most sublime perfection when we are entirely given over, open and obedient to the events of divine Providence. If we indeed have surrendered ourselves to Providence we shall be as happy to be here as a hundred miles form here; and even more so, finding ourselves in Providence more of God's pleasure and less of our own satisfaction. It would be of no consequence whether we be humbled or exalted, to be led by one hand or the other, to be in dryness, aridity, sorrow and privation or to be comforted by divine Providence and in the enjoyment of God. In fact, we should keep ourselves in the good hands of this great God like cloth in the hands of a tailor, who cuts it in a hundred ways for use as he pleases and as he designs, while it puts no hindrance in the way. So, we should endure to have God's powerful hand cut, hammer and chisel us just as God wishes, to make us a fit stone for the adornment of his building." (Conference XLI, pp. 280 - 281)

As we reflect upon the passion of Jesus - the generosity of Jesus - the obedience of Jesus - the self-emptying of Jesus - it affords us the opportunity to examine our own passion for righteousness, our own generosity toward others, our own obedience to the will of the Father and our own willingness to empty ourselves so that our hearts, minds, attitudes and actions may more faithfully reflect the love of God who invites us each day to continue the ministry of Jesus in ways that fit the state and stage of life in which we find ourselves.

Fifth Sunday of Lent (March 29, 2020)

The sports-caster pushes through the crowd for a postgame interview.   “Congratulations, coach, what was the turning point in the win?

The retired general or admiral is writing his memoirs.  He reveals unknown details and strategies in the war.  The most important chapter is his conclusion:  his interpretation of the turning point.  In the Napoleonic wars, it was the battle of Waterloo; in WWII, the battle of Midway.  The author analyzes the hinge on which the large door of victory swung open.  The beginning of the end.

John tells the story of the life and ministry of Jesus Christ.  He writes to inspire faith in unbelievers and to encourage the faith of believers.

What was the crucial moment for the writer of the 4th gospel? It is today’s gospel:  the raising of Lazarus. The raising of Lazarus was the point of critical mass of his enemies’ anger; Jesus’ popularity reached its highpoint with this miracle.  The level of threat to the status quo -leadership now exploded.   Jesus had to go!    The beginning of the end.

People will commit great evil to protect their positions of power.

--- The Watergate scandal in American politics

--- The Enron executives in Houston

--- Some American bishops in regard to the sex-abuse scandal

--- Martha Stuart - provide examples.

Some folks, who normally attend church, hold responsible positions, treat their families and friends with kindness will commit acts of cruel deception if their power is threatened. 

Jesus was a threat, absolutely.  The people were judging that he spoke and acted more authoritatively than the Pharisees. 

Today, Jesus stood alone, in the midst of a crowd.  For Jesus to raise Lazarus was tantamount to entering the tomb himself.  John sees this as the beginning of the end for Jesus

John gives us clues in the text.  Although those present interpreted his tears as human tears for his friend’s death, scripture scholars argue that the reason he wept was not only for Lazarus; but he weeps in the agony of his present situation.  To do what he felt called to do would bring about his death.  Thomas the apostle recognized the danger before they left for Judea; he speaks of going to Judea to die with Jesus.

John writes a “high Christology;” that is, he portrays Jesus as being more god than man.  Read john’s sanitized passion: 

-- No mention of Jesus’ sweat of blood in the garden.

Scholars say his agony was here at the tomb in john’s version of the agony “in the garden”

--- Jesus defends himself brilliantly before the authorities.

--- Jesus carries his cross by himself; john says so explicitly.

--- Finally, john does not say Jesus dies, but “he delivers over his spirit”

Though that day may have been bright and sunny, Jesus saw the storm clouds gathering on the horizon beyond Lazarus’ tomb.   Standing alone, he saw the rising fury of the Jewish leadership.  He knew that doing what he felt called to do would push them over the edge.  He may have surmised that the next time he looked at a tomb - it would be his own - and he would look at it from the inside.  

John saw this as the final turning point, the beginning of the end.  

My image of god, our father, does not allow me to believe that the father exacted from his son the torture of a crucifixion-death as payment to him for our sins.  That seems to make the father an ogre, not an Abba.

I believe that the father sent his son to model for us how a person is to live a life of love - regardless of the consequences. 

I believe that that is what is meant by “taking up one’s cross” taking up one’s cross does not mean to me beating oneself on the head for love of god.    [To me, that is foolishness.]

As Jesus stood before Lazarus’ tomb, he knew what the loving thing to do was: he called Lazarus forth, to restore him to his sisters and relieve their terrible grief as a sign of his and his father’s love.   But, that, in effect, meant that he would be killed.  

And us.  Let’s humbly thank / congratulate him for showing us what it means to have the courage of loving conviction.

Let’s look deeply into our lives.  Are we avoiding, perhaps looking the other way, distracting ourselves from loving things that we are called to do?   

What will we do in these final two weeks of Lent?

Fourth Sunday of Lent (March 22, 2020)

Many centuries ago, the church used drama to teach. We saw this even in the Middle Ages in the morality plays. The church building provided the theatre. About the year 100 A.D., when john wrote his gospel, he did so in a dramatic narrative. Today we shall present his words, just as he wrote them --interspersed with commentary. 

Please be seated.

In chapter 8 of John’s Gospel, Jesus says, “I am the light of the world; no follower of mine shall ever walk in darkness.  No, he shall possess the light of life.”

Chapter 9 tells the story of a man born blind, a man born in darkness.  It is the story of a man who will come into the light - the light of Jesus, the light of the world.  It is a story dramatized in 7 scenes.  Let’s listen to the first scene with Jesus, his disciples, and a blind man.

Scene I

N:      As he walked along, he saw a man who had been blind from birth. His disciples asked him:

D:       “Rabbi, was it his sin or that of his parents that caused him to be born blind?”

J:       3. “Neither,” [answered Jesus] “it was no sin, either of this man or of his parents.

In the disciples’ minds, there is no question whether sin causes blindness; there is only the question of who it was that sinned.  It was the teaching of the Hebrews, the old Deuteronomic code, that the sins of the individual or his ancestors were visited on the individual.  

Jews of Jesus’ day asked the same question that people ask even today when they suffer affliction:  what did I do to deserve this?  Affliction is thought to come as punishment.  Jesus rejects this notion. [Rather, it was to let god’s works show forth in him.  4. We must do the deeds of him who sent me while it is day.   The night comes on when no one can work.  5. While I am in the world I am the light of the world.”]

N:       6.  With that Jesus spat on the ground, made mud with his saliva, and smeared the man’s eyes with the mud. 

7. then he told him:

J:       “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam.”

N:     (This name means “one who has been sent,”) so the man went off and washed, and came back able to see.

Jesus was a wise physician; he used the customs of his day to work his signs; spittle was thought to have curative power. Even today, don’t I stick my finger in my mouth if I burn it?  It was not that Jesus   believed that spittle could heal blindness, but it kindled expectation in the blind man.

Just as god had made light the first item of creation and then formed man from clay, so john has Jesus use clay that will lead this man to the light of day and eventually to the light of the world.

The second scene involves the blind man’s neighbors, those who frequently saw him.

Scene II

N:       His neighbors and the people who had been accustomed to see him begging began to ask:

P:       “Isn’t this the fellow who used to sit and beg?” 

N:       Some were claiming it was he; others maintained it was not but someone who looked like him. The man himself said:

B:       “I am the one.”

N:      They said to him then,  

P:       “How were your eyes opened?”

N:      He answered:

B:       “That man they call Jesus made mud and smeared it on my eyes, telling me to go to Siloam and wash.  When I did go and wash, I was able to see.”

P:       “Where is he?”  

N:      They asked.  He replied,

B:      “I have no idea.”

We shall see that the human author of the gospel tells of two miracles: 1. The healing of blindness that brings eyesight; 2. The birth of faith, through insight.   He indicates the progression of the man-born-blind’s insight by the progression of the man’s names for Jesus  [as in last weeks story of the Samaritan woman.]  We have just heard the first of five: “that man they call Jesus.”

Scene three brings on stage the Pharisees - the villains of the drama.

Scene III

N:      Next, they took the man who had been born blind to the Pharisees. (Note that it was on a Sabbath that Jesus had made the mud paste and opened his eyes.)  The Pharisees, in turn, began to inquire how he had recovered his sight.  He told them,

B:        “He put mud on my eyes.   I washed it off, and now I can see.”

N:       This prompted some of the Pharisees to assert, 

Ph:     “This man cannot be from god because he does not keep the Sabbath.” 

N:        Others objected:

Ph:     “If a man is a sinner, how can he perform signs like these?” 

N:         They were sharply divided over him.

             Then they addressed the blind man again:

Ph:      “Since it was your eyes he opened, what do you have to say about him?”

B:         “He is a prophet.”

N:        He replied.  

The Pharisees, the leaders of the Jews, claim to see; Jesus broke a Sabbath prohibition by kneading spittle and earth, which a “devout” Jew would not do.  Yet some were puzzled because a sinner should not be able to cure anyone.  The Pharisees do not “see.”  They do not understand.  While their opportunity for insight increases, they become blinder.

Upon further questioning, the former blind man has a new and deeper insight; he calls Jesus a “prophet,” one who brings god’s word to humans.  

The Pharisees decide to ‘broaden the investigation’ with a fourth scene as the rather wary and cagy parents of the man are introduced…

Scene IV

N:      The Jews refused to believe that he had really been born blind and had begun to see, until they summoned the parents of this man who now could see.

Ph:     “Is this your son?”

N:        They asked, 

Ph:     “And if so, do you attest that he was blind at birth?  How do you account for the fact that now he can see?”

N:       The parents answered:

Pr:     “We know this is our son, and we know he was blind at birth. But how he can see now, or who opened his eyes, we have no idea. Ask him. He is old enough to speak for himself.”

N:      (His parents answered in this fashion because they were afraid of the Jews, who had already agreed among themselves that anyone who acknowledged Jesus, as the messiah would be put out of synagogue.

          That was why his parents said, ‘he is of age - ask him.’)  

The parents should have been lawyers.  Although there was no fifth amendment at that time, they do not implicate themselves.  They sidestep the increasing frustration and anger of the Pharisees, who would use ecclesiastical penalty to vent their frustration.  Jesus had previously warned his disciples that following him would mean expulsion from the synagogue. We hear his prophecy being fulfilled.

The parents wash their hands of association with their son. They will not take the chance of Jewish excommunication.

Scene V brings the Pharisees to their most violent conflict with the former blind man…

Scene V

N:       A second time they summoned the man, who had been born blind and said to him,

Ph:      “Give glory to god!   First of all we know this man is a sinner.”

B:       “I do not know whether he is a sinner or not,”

N:       he answered.

B:        “I know this much: I was blind before; now I can see.”

N:       They persisted:

Ph:     “Just what did he do to you?  How did he open your eyes?”

B:      “I have told you once, but you would not listen to me,”

N:      He answered them.

B:      “Why do you want to hear it all over again?   Do not tell me you want to become his disciples too?” 

N:      They retorted scornfully:

Ph:    “You are the one who is that man’s disciple.  We are disciples of Moses. We know that god spoke to Moses, but we have no idea where this man comes from.” 

N:      He came back at them:

B:       “Well, this is news!  You do not know where he comes from, yet he opened my eyes. We know that god does not hear sinners, but that if someone is devout and obeys his will, he listens to him. It is unheard of that anyone ever gave sight to a person blind from birth. If this man were not from God, he could never have done such a thing.”

Ph:     “What…you are steeped in sin from your birth, and you are giving us lectures?”

N:      With that they threw him out bodily.

The Pharisees begin aggressively: “give glory to god,” -- a phrase used in cross-examination, which means: “speak the truth in the presence and the name of god.”   A browbeating technique here.

With his progressive insight into who Jesus is and faith / trust in him, an increasing boldness builds in the former blind man, a boldness not shared by his intimidated parents.  He uses the strongest of argument:  it was clear Jewish teaching that god hears only the prayer of good people; the book of proverbs said clearly,      “ the lord is far from the wicked; but he hears the prayer of the righteous. “ [15:29] The Pharisees were defeated by their own scripture.

“To him who has, more shall be given,” said Jesus.   The man has a still deeper insight.  He now calls Jesus a “man from god.”

For his faith, the man suffers the rejection that Jesus will eventually suffer -- as well as Jesus’ disciples.

The sixth scene finds the man again with Jesus.  As john Chrysostom put it: ‘the Jews cast him out of the temple; the lord of the temple found him.”

Scene VI

N:      When Jesus heard of his expulsion, he sought him out and asked

          him:

J:       “Do you believe in the son of man?”

N:      He answered,

B:       “Who is he, sir, that I may believe in him?”

J:       “You have seen him … he is speaking to you now.”

B:      “I do believe, Lord,

N:      He said, and bowed down to worship him. Then Jesus said:

J:       “I came into this world to divide it, to make the sightless see and the seeing blind.”

Whenever our Christian witness separates us from others, we find that Jesus is nearer to us.

The titles “son of man,” and “lord” bring the man to the fullness of faith, which results in his bowing down to worship Jesus.  “Son of man” to a Jew indicates more than what we Christians hear; it indicates no mere mortal, but the one beyond us who was awaited.

Jesus had said: “I came into this world to divide it, to make the sightless see and the seeing blind.”  Jesus confronts us, as were the man and the Pharisees; if we see Jesus as one to be admired, one to be desired, we choose sight and salvation.  If we see in Jesus nothing to be admired, desired, followed, we condemn ourselves -- a truth that becomes transparently clear as Jesus and the Pharisees play out the seventh and final scene.

Scene VII

N:      Some of the Pharisees around him picked this up, saying,

Ph:     “You a re not calling us blind, are you?”

N:      To which Jesus replied:

J:       “If you were blind, there would be no sin in that.  ‘But we see,’  you say, “and your sin remains.”

The Pharisees find themselves in the same place that the man was at the beginning of the story: blind!  They have progressively lost insight.  They even rejected the cure, were unwilling to admit that the man had ever been blind -- a fact that his friends and neighbors “saw” and knew to be true. 

The more we know, the more we are responsible if we do not recognize good when we see it.  The Pharisees are condemned because they claim to see so well and yet fail to recognize the messiah when he came.  The law that responsibility is the other side of the coin of privilege is written into life. [Barclay]

John describes the increasing insights of the man: “that man they call Jesus,”   “a prophet,”  “man from god,”  “son of man,” “lord.”  The insight of faith was a gift greater than the sight to his eyes.   His insight was progressive just as the insight of the Pharisees was regressive.   Did you notice that the first name for Jesus the man used was the last title for Jesus that the Pharisees used:  “that man.” 

In human relationships, we frequently experience that the better we know someone, the more we become aware of weakness, of clay feet.  In our relationship with Jesus, we find that the more we come to know him the greater he becomes.  He is the light of the world and makes us shine as light to the world of others.

This story is the story of healing: from physical blindness, which was obvious to all who would see -- and healing from spiritual blindness, which was subtle and indicated by the progression of insightful names for who Jesus was. 

Our Lenten journey of faith -- like the blind man’s -- is also a journey of insights into who Jesus is.  Jesus heals us spiritually.  He does it frequently by his words in scripture.  A reflective recalling of scriptures touches our spirits with our hurts and bruises; it, like soothing oil, promotes our inner healing. 

May this drama help heal your spirit with his word -- and may you take your healing words to others as a balm for their spirits.      

Third Sunday of Lent (March 15, 2020)

Jews despised Samaritans for over 700 years. The Assyrians had conquered Israel and most of the Jews of that area fled.  The Assyrians moved into the territory non-Jews who intermarried with the remaining Jews.  After the exile, the returning, “real” Jews saw this as a bastardized form of Judaism.  They judged Samaritan women perpetually unclean and would never even speak to them, let alone touch them.  Also, in the ancient, near east, women were never to be at the well unaccompanied by a male relative.

That is the setting for Jesus’ encounter. He promptly threw away the rulebook.  He initiated the conversation by asking for a drink - without even having his own cup.  She played the race card and reminded him of their differences. He confronted her:  where is your husband?  She said she had none and, understandably, tried to change the subject to . . . Liturgy, to the appropriate place for worship.  We can understand she would prefer to talk about her liturgical life rather than her rather interesting sex life.  He didn’t blink; you already have had five husbands, and the man you are with now is not your husband -- So much for her attempt to derail his train of thought.

Jesus saw her at the well in the heat of the day, the worst time to face the desert sun.  Women ordinarily came early in the morning for the day’s water supply.  This woman was almost surely shunned by the other women because of her promiscuity.   Jesus recognized her strong thirst for male attention. He did not shame her for it. He greeted her by acknowledging his own, “different” thirst.

He offered her “living water” which she first misunderstood as a supply of h20 near her door. Jesus offered her faith.  She gradually accepted him -- as we heard by the progressive names for him, from “sir” to “prophet,” to “messiah.”  

This obscure, unnamed woman became Jesus’ first female apostle.  She went back to schechem and boldly told her neighbors about Jesus and how he reacted to her, and they -- through her -- were introduced to Jesus. She did the work of an apostle!

After the people of schechem encountered Jesus, and he lived among them for two days, these “despised foreigners” said: “no longer does our faith depend on your story.  We have heard for ourselves, and we know that this really is “the savior of the world” -- the final and crowning title for Jesus. Isn’t it true that we got our faith like the people in the village?  We believed through the word of someone else about God/Jesus: our parents, family, teachers, -- then, we later came to believe in Jesus.

Isn’t it consoling that Jesus uses imperfect people like them and the woman and you and me as his apostles to continue his evangelization?  The work of RCIA is not to be construed as the work of perfect people.  It is through you and me -- especially you who have more contact with folks of other or no faith -- to draw people to our faith. 

In the first reading, we heard that God used a stone to provide water.  In the Gospel story, Jesus, from the stone of her heart, struck living water through his compassion and gentle teaching / presence.

The only thing that can keep us away is the hardness of our hearts.  God has found us. Do we soften our hearts to receive him?  To listen to him?  To ask his forgiveness?  To grow in love with him?  To carry his love to others who are not aware of him?

Second Sunday of Lent (March 8, 2020)

Life is a journey.  For most, it is a two-fold journey: the journey out and the journey in.  The journey out is the professional journey comprising education, training, earning a salary.  The second journey, the journey in is the spiritual journey.   Not all make that journey.  We have not seen Brittany Spears or Paris Hilton along the way.  It is the journey of interiority. 

Another pair of choices confronts both of these journeys: being a settler or being a pilgrim, an explorer.  Like early folks in our country, some are content to be settlers; others, have a wanderlust sparkle in their eyes.  They like to move on.  Neither is right or wrong; it just is.

Biblical faith has surely been, basically, a pilgrim faith.  We see it in today’s first reading about Abraham and his journey; we see it in both books written by Luke:  his Gospel is the story of Jesus on a journey from up in galilee down to Jerusalem; his acts of the apostles is the story of the journey of Paul from Jerusalem over to the heart of the roman empire, Rome.

Explorers are tempted to hunker down, become settlers.   Such views often do not take freedom or inspiration seriously.  God’s will is revealed more as a light in the present moment --- enough light to take the next step on our unmapped journey.

Our maps are made one journey-step at a time in the company of Jesus.  Spiritual journeys are often not mapped out clearly, ahead of time, but are seen only when we pause, turn around and look back where we have come from.  Were we to have tried to look ahead when we were back on our journey, the map would have looked like the maps of ancient cartographers who drew dragons and monsters where there were no known paths or ships’ courses.

I like to liken my journey to a walk along a long, pitch-black corridor with dim, overhead lights, 40-watt bulbs at the end of long, light-chains.  I walk with hand extended upward.  As I walk, my hand hits another chain.   I pull the chain and I can see for a short distance beyond.  The journey-process continues.  That image was a huge help on a personal journey several years ago.

Abram went out, not knowing where he was going. Soren Kierkegaard has well described faith as a leap into the darkness. 

We find ourselves with about 10 days of lent behind us.  When we turn around and look behind us, we may ask ourselves what progress in who-I-am-becoming do we see?   We have about thirty days of opportunity before us.  What have we learned from the past ten days that help give direction to our path ahead?

Is our hand outstretched to our lord for guidance?  Have we “Put our hand in the hand of the man from Galilee?”  Have we actually progressed in these 10 days?  Are we becoming  “settlers” or are we embracing the Christian-pilgrim image, “moving ahead” to become what we call ourselves: “Christian.” 

I encourage you to pause on your journey today and look at your personal journey as well as the resurrection-community journey.

Arnold Toynbee said the most dangerous period for a civilization is when it thinks it is safe and no longer needs to face changes.  I agree.

The personal is the harder issue to face; it’s always easier for us to “fix” someone else.  Your personal journey will be a determining factor in the life of this faith community.

First Sunday of Lent (March 1, 2020)

This morning, I’d like us to use our imaginations.  Imagine that you just met your brand new next-door neighbors. They seem like very nice people.  After some time passes, they invite you to attend their church.  You have never heard of their religion; it is something new: they worship on a different day.  You feel honored at their invitation - and you are a bit curious - so you decide to go with them.

The people in the gathering space are as friendly as your neighbors. Then you enter the worship space.  You are shocked.  The center of focus is an electric chair.  You feel like bolting for the door.  What kind of bizarre cult is this?

Yet, you hesitate - suspended between disgust and curiosity.   The people do not seem weird at all - actually, very nice - even loving.  A helpful “parishioner” hands you a piece of paper, an explanation of the group’s belief.  You read that the center of belief and worship is a man who was strapped to the chair and killed through the machinations of a political and a social system that saw this man as a threat to their lives of privilege and power.

After his death, his followers discovered that when they gathered together, this man was present in spirit, pouring out his wisdom and his love into their lives.  It dawns on you that this monstrous device of death has been transformed into something very different from its common meaning - it is a point of veneration and inspiration.

Instead of “success” in the world - the lifestyle of the rich and famous, Lamborghinis and Ferraris, villas and buff bodies - the electric chair is the symbol of life’s meaning.

In imagining yourself walking into a worship space and seeing the electric chair as the focal point, you are replicating the experience of a first century Jew or Gentile entering a Christian place of worship - where the cross  - a hated, disgraceful and terrifying symbol of death stands as the focal point.

I think we have gotten so used to the symbol of the cross that it loses its meaning. Today, it gets decorated with jewels; it hangs around rock musicians’ and wannabees’ necks, another artifact like an earing or a nose ring.  We walk into church - and hardly notice it.

We have lost the ability to understand its shock value, what it cost Jesus to die on the cross - a n d - the demands which the cross makes on those who .

Say they are followers of Jesus.

On Ash Wednesday, the Christian faithful around the world lift their faces to be signed with ashes.  This sign is meant to remind us both of our mortality and of a radically new way of living.  When we make the sign of the cross, we remind ourselves and proclaim that we are willing to die to self and are willing to be countercultural.

During lent, we watch what goes into our mouths.  We fast.  We abstain from meat on Fridays. We easily forget what Jesus said:  what comes out of our mouths is more important than what goes into our mouths. 

This year I would like us to consider fasting from what comes out of our mouths in three ways:

First, fasting from unbecoming language. The air around us is full of it. F-bombs are commonplace.  Foul language comes out not only from the mouths of Howard Stern and Jerry Springer, but presidents and CEO’s and a lot of otherwise “nice” people.

I like the story of the college kid brought home by his roommate for a home cooked dinner   ... Spilled water  - string of words  - silence  - grandma: “You eat with that mouth?” Whether young or old or in between, we may need to clean our teeth, so to speak; we are one of the gang:  Jesus’ gang.’’  Let’s not sound like another gang.

Second, fasting from judgments that spill easily out of our mouths. We would do well to make zero judgments about the motives of others, their goodness or badness, their shortfalls, their jobs.  This may be hard to do every day, so we might make this special effort on Fridays, when Jesus remained silent before Pilate and died for us. 

Finally, fasting from negatives that so readily come from our mouths. Put-downs, clever remarks that hurt, sarcasm, negative criticism. If it’s too much of a challenge, perhaps we could work on that on Wednesdays, the day Judas is said to have betrayed Jesus with the negative words that came from his mouth.

Cleaning up our mouths makes room for positive words, for encouraging words we all need to hear, and for the prayer-word we need to speak to our lord.  This is not easy because we so often do not really listen to ourselves.  

Like grandma in our story we can ask ourselves: “I eat with this mouth?”  More to the point -  “we eat and drink the body and blood of Jesus with this mouth?”

Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time (February 23, 2020)

In today’s Gospel, Jesus picks up where he left off last Sunday by adding yet more verses to his version of the song “Higher Love.” Jesus proclaims that it isn’t enough to practice retribution that is balanced; you should not practice retribution at all. It isn’t enough to love your neighbor while hating your enemy; you must also love your enemies; you must pray for those who persecute you. When asked to travel a certain distance, you must go the extra mile. When asked for help, do what you can without expecting any return for your generosity. If someone strikes you on one side of your face, offer them the other side.

However, it would be a mistake to hear in Jesus’ words the invitation to be a wimp, a wall flower or a door mat: there comes a time in a person’s life (just as there were many times in Jesus’ life) when – despite all attempts to roll with the punches – you must simply – and strongly – stand up for what it right. The challenge is rooted in knowing how to take a stand against another without allowing hatred to grow in our hearts toward others. As the Book of Leviticus reminds us: “Though you may have to reprove your fellow citizen, do not incur sin because of him. Take no revenge and cherish no grudge against any of your people.”

In his Introduction to the Devout Life, Francis de Sales observed: “Nothing so quickly calms down an angry elephant as the sight of a little lamb (writer’s note: you go first!); nothing so easily breaks the force of a cannon ball as wool. We do not set much value on correction that comes from anger – even when accompanied by reason – as to that which comes from reason alone. When princes visit their people with a peaceable retinue they honor them and cause them great joy, but when they come at the head of armies – even though for the common good – their visits are always disagreeable and harmful. In like manner, as long as reason rules and peaceably chastises, corrects and warns – even though severely and exactly – everyone loves and approves it.” (Part III, Ch. 8)

If we must stand up for ourselves we must avoid knocking others down. If we must correct, chastise or reprove others it must be done without suborning resentment. If we must work for peace it most be pursue without employing unjust means. As we know from our own experience, however, this is much easier said than done: when justice actually requires that we prevent someone from striking us (or others) on the other cheek we might unintentionally strike them first! Francis de Sales offers the following advice when we do the right thing in the wrong way: “As soon as you see that you are guilty of a wrathful deed, correct the fault right away by an act of meekness toward the person with whom you grew angry. Just as it is a sovereign remedy against lying to contradict the untruth upon the spot as soon as we see we have told one, so, too, we must repair our anger instantly by a contrary act of meekness. As the saying goers, fresh wounds are quickest healed.” (Ibid)

As we see so clearly in the life of Jesus, living a “higher love” often has less to do with what we do – or don’t do – to others; it has much more to do with how we do – or don’t do – with others.

Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time (February 16, 2020)

Think about it, there must be higher love
Down in the heart or hidden in the stars above
Without it life is wasted time
Look inside your heart, I’ll look inside mine.
Things look so bad everywhere
In this whole world what is fair?
We walk blind and we try to see
Falling behind in what could be.
Bring me a higher love, bring me a higher love
Bring me a higher love, where’s that higher love I keep thinking of?

- sung by Steve Winwood

In today’s Gospel Jesus calls us to a “higher” love. Jesus urges us to avoid practicing or pursuing spiritual minimalism, i.e., looking to do only the bare minimum of what is required: living life by the “good enough” method. Jesus clearly raises the bar when he tells his listeners that it isn’t enough to avoid killing your neighbor; you must avoid growing angry with – or holding a grudge against – your neighbor. Indeed, you must be reconciled with your neighbor. It isn’t enough to avoid committing adultery; we must also avoid looking others in ways that objectify or discount them for our own gratification or advantage. Indeed, rather than waste your time by looking at others your time would be better spent by examining yourself. It isn’t enough to avoid making a false oath; you should avoid putting yourself in any situation in which you would feel obliged to swear to anything. Simply say what you mean and mean what you say.

Jesus’ “higher love” is really at the heart of Francis’ notion of “devotion.” He wrote: “Genuine, living devotion presupposes love of God, and hence it is simply true love of God. Yet it is not always love as such. Inasmuch as divine love adorns the soul, it is called grace, which makes us pleasing to God’s Divine Majesty. Inasmuch as it strengthens us to do good, it is called charity. When it has reached a degree of perfection at which it not only make us do good but also do the good carefully, frequently and promptly, it is called devotion…In addition, it arouses us to do quickly and lovingly as many good works as possible, both those commanded and those merely counseled or inspired.” (IDL, Part 1, Ch. 1)

For his part, St. Francis de Sales also challenges us to avoid spiritual minimalism. It isn’t good enough to avoid lying; we must be truthful. It isn’t good enough to avoid gluttony; we must be disciplined. It isn’t good enough to avoid being parsimonious; we must be generous. It isn’t good enough to avoid injuring others; we must heal others. 

God, help us to live this higher love. Help us to avoid trying to simply ‘get by’ in life; help us to understand what it means to truly live…by fully loving.

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time (February 9, 2020)

Jesus proclaims to all who wish to follow him that they are to be light to the world, and salt of the earth. These are powerful images, as powerful today as they were when Christ first proclaimed them. For disciples of every time and place, these images are not mere ego boosters. No, they are a constant challenge to dare to become for God and others that which Jesus was, himself, so clearly willing to be.

To be a light to the world is to illumine others with God’s truth and mercy. Likewise, that same light must expose the sins of pride, envy, meanness, indifference, injustice and anything else that blinds us from the divine truth and mercy that Christ has gained for us. Insofar as sin is anything that makes it more difficult to see in ourselves and one another the light and love of Jesus Christ, exposing such sin not only frees us from darkness but also better enables us to do all that is good and life-giving.

In Jesus’ light, we see the source of all light. We see the Father’s creative love; we receive Jesus’ redeeming love; we experience the Spirit’s inspiring love. Still, it is not enough to let this light shine out upon others: we must also allow that light to penetrate and permeate every fiber of our very being.  The greatest encouragement that our God-given light can give to others is to show to others how that light is, in fact and at first, transforming us.

To be salt is to accept that fact that our efforts – or lack thereof – to follow Christ do have an impact upon others, regardless of whether we are always aware of that impact or not. There are times in our lives when we lose our taste for God and/or the things of God: more frequently than not this is displayed by our own feelings of inadequacy and/or indifference when it comes to practicing virtue. We all have our moments when we are tempted to believe that our day- to-day efforts at following Christ simply don’t make a positive difference in the lives of others, let alone in God’s overall plan for salvation.  Unlike salt, however, we can regain that taste for doing what is righteous and good through prayer, the sacraments and, perhaps most practically, by doubling – even tripling – our efforts at practicing those very virtues that we are tempted to cease pursuing.

When we are tempted to wonder about our own efficacy in witnessing to the power and promise of God’s creative, redeeming, inspiring, healing and challenging love in our everyday, imperfect lives we should take consolation and encouragement about something which is true about both light and salt:  even the smallest amounts of each go a very, very long way.

Presentation of the Lord (February 2, 2020)

In her reflection in Living Faith, Elizabeth – Anne Stewart writes “…like all prophets, Simeon saw beyond the surface. Even as he spoke two thousand years ago, Roman forces occupied the land and atrocities abounded. What he saw was the presence of God cradled in the palms of his hands. As he gave thanks, he was not so naïve as to imagine the Child would banish all suffering; rather, he knew that by embracing the suffering of the world, this Child would show us that love is always a possibility. …Be our light in times of darkness, O Lord that we may shine with your love”

In Luke’s Gospel message, Jesus’ parents were faithful to the Law presenting him in the Temple. Devout Jews like Simeon accepted Jesus as God’s promise to all people: an inclusive Salvation opportunity.

Messianic Salvation is a “Beacon” shining before all nations, a Light that dissipates the darkness and enlightens them.  In the Light of his presence, there can be no neutrality, for he is the Light that reveals our innermost thoughts and forces us be part of his Light.

Saint Francis de Sales was a model for us of the Light of Love and a burning Heart.  He was a Light in his time that helped all persons to pursue a life of devotion in the state and stage of life in which they lived each day.  His relationship with the Divine created a beacon of blessings through his writings, preaching and guidance, enabling us to strive to be a Light for others.  To do this action, he stressed the need for our transformation from the inside out.  De Sales writes:

“For myself, Philothea, I cannot approve the methods of those who try to reform someone by beginning with outward things. On the contrary it seems to me that we ought to begin inside… Since the heart is the source of our actions, as the heart is so are they; whoever has Jesus Christ in their heart will soon have him in all outward ways.”

Our “temple” is in our hearts. Our light is how we live the gospel, even when we encounter suffering. Are we a beacon of Christian Light in our generation?  Can we announce salvation through Jesus by our living action?

Sometimes we are too near-sighted and too hard of hearing to be truly in the presence of his Light. Someone has to open our eyes, ears and hearts beyond our own perceptions. Simeon recognizes in Jesus the Messiah promised long ago.  We need to trust in the fulfillment of the divine promises and see the Light in all peoples.  St. Francis de Sales was a Light for us too.  He was a Light who gave people the heart they needed to embrace life as it was and to dream about life as it could be.

Genuine encounter with Christ leaves us changed forever and impacts our choices, our motivations and our attitudes.  Have we let this child into the temple of our hearts?   Live Jesus—Let Jesus Shine!

Third Sunday in Ordinary Time (January 26, 2020)

In the first reading - the one also used at midnight on Christmas - Isaiah the prophet uses the image of darkness and sings a thanksgiving hymn for the lightsome deliverance of the Jews from Assyrian darkness.

In the gospel, we hear of Herod imprisoning John the Baptizer.  The voice of one crying in the wilderness is now an empty echo in a dungeon.  Authority did what authority does both in state and in church: silences what threatens.  It is as valid today as it was then.  But, prison, in Herod’s time, was not the place where you waited for trial; it was the place where you waited for death.  John the Baptizer was as good as dead.

What would Jesus do now in this defining moment?  He had options - he could:

1.  Cool it. Back off and save his own life.
2.  Mount a verbal counter attack on Herod; that was mission impossible;
3.  Take up the calling and message of John - and continue to advance the
Kingdom of God – come what may.

Jesus decides to pick up where John left off and eventually pays the same price as john.

Jesus’ response is immediate and swift: he moves directly from his quiet home in Nazareth to Capernaum on the travel route by the Sea of Galilee. This is the land of Herod Antipas, who had arrested John and would later judge Jesus.  Remember, Jesus, as an infant had fled Herod the great; now, in adulthood, he moved courageously toward Herod the Great’s son like an Olympian taking up the torch of John’s message: “Repent, for the Kingdom of God is at hand.”

We know that the word for “repentance” in Greek is metanoia – and it means “a change of mind / heart” to thinking outside the box of ego.  This is the remedy for the “darkness,” the rut of meaningless human existence in which so many folks find themselves.

Jesus realizes he needs help to teach the lesson of love of God and neighbor; he recruits.   He walks by the Sea of Galilee and sees two sets of brothers: peter and Andrew and James and John.  He says, come, follow me; I will make you fishers of people.

He was calling them to a far more difficult task than outwitting fish that instinctively seek food.  He was calling them to attempt, like himself, to lure people into finding the gut-felt need for meaning in their lives. 

Humans are not fish.  He could not and would not use the force of a net or a baited hook.  Humans have free will.  He had only his message as a lure to attract them to the light of truth.   Jesus’ image of “catching” is perfect.  He seeks the hearts of human beings.  The seeking involves luring – as in fishing.  

At his call, they immediately follow him.  But why?  He was charismatic.   That is, there was an “air” about him, an air of enthusiasm, of passion.   He exuded zeal.  When he spoke, he clearly knew what he was talking about - what his Jewish listeners called “speaking with authority.”  The four saw this.  Jesus did not act “cool.”  He was “hot” – not in the current idiom of “hot,” nor fanatically hot [like a nut case], but confidently hot, not lukewarm.  His outspoken confidence in his message was contagious.  Folks caught his enthusiasm.  When they listened to him, they were “hooked.”   They responded to him.  They believed him – and more importantly, they believed in him. 

We do not see much of that fire coming from the hierarchy today.  We see them act like reactors, like legislators, not leaders.  They legislate hard laws [canons] and soft laws [“guidelines,“], focusing on means to some vague end.  They lack fiery zeal for the end – Jesus, our light. 

May each of us always keep our eyes on Jesus, our passionate leader and our inspiration.  May we continue to see with his eyes, hear with his ears, touch with his hand.

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time (January 19, 2020)

Some folks claim that president Jimmy Carter is the best “former president” we have ever had.  He travelled the world to try to bring peaceful solutions to international trouble spots and tried to ensure fair elections in foreign lands.  He also built dozens of houses for Habitat for Humanity.   All the while he continued to conduct a regular Sunday morning Bible study in his church.  I never heard any critic say that he is not a good person; many would call him, “holy.”

All three readings touch on a curious topic: holiness. Holiness anticipated in Israel in the first reading; holiness initiated by Jesus in the third; holiness, the call, to the Corinthians and us by St. Paul in the second reading.

Holiness is a mystery. But, as always, we can penetrate mystery to some extent. It becomes somewhat easier to approach if we talk about friendship -- and the form of presence it brings.  We have friends; we have some especially close friends. What we have in our mutual presence to one another is wonderful.  Holiness is what happens when we become especially close friends with the lord.

Friendship does not happen just because someone does nice, friend-things. Holiness does not happen just because one does “holy” things. One cannot become your close friend simply by shoveling your walk. One cannot become a close friend of God [holy] by doing something.  The notion of holiness gets muddied by people who will never be accused of being called “holy” doing “holy” things.  Actually, such people give holiness a bad name.

In short, holiness, like friendship, is not in the realm of doing; it is in the realm of being - in being a good friend of the Lord -- a kind of very special presence.

In holiness as in close, earthly friendship, we become psychologically united with the other.   If cultivated, persevered in, friendship comes to the point where we interpenetrate each other’s consciousness. We can finish the other’s sentences.

In times past, the ones called to holiness were thought to be clergy, religious sisters, brothers, and priests. The Second Vatican Council, following the teaching of St. Francis de sales shot that idea down. Every one of us is called to holiness.  The council referred to this as “the universal call to holiness.” It was a real, spiritual breakthrough.

A third notion after what holiness is - becoming friends with God - and who are called - every one of us - is how each of us has been called.

Our Lord individually customizes holiness.  There is no “cookie cutter” approach.  No two of us are called to holiness in precisely the same way.  Each of us is individually “called by name” because each of us has our personal, lived experience.  Each of us uniquely becomes a friend of the lord in our holiness. 

Our gathering here at Eucharist is our God-given gift of closeness.  It is not an accident that the first document to come out of that council was on the liturgy.  Liturgy is the first listed of resurrection’s five, basic dimensions of our community life in the current parish directory.  Eucharist is the sun of all devotions; it is that around which everything else revolves.  Both the sun and Eucharist bring light and warmth.

We are called to “live Jesus.”  That is, we are called to live our lives with Jesus, our friend, trying to speak what Jesus calls us to speak, trying to do what Jesus calls us to do. 

We cannot make ourselves holy.  That is the work of the sanctifier, the Holy Spirit.  As the Eucharistic prayer reminds us, “Father, you are holy indeed, and all creation rightly gives you praise.  All life, all holiness comes from you through your son Jesus Christ, the Lord, by the working of the Holy Spirit. “

The Holy Spirit works in us when we are open, when we present ourselves to him without “talking at him.” Our prayer is the prayer of Samuel: “Speak Lord, your servant is listening.”

It has been well said by Louis Pasteur, the scientist: “All that we can give God is our desire.”   We need not worry about becoming holy.  The Holy Spirit takes care of that.”

Baptism of Our Lord (January 12, 2020)

Today is the feast of our Lord’s baptism by John the Baptizer. This was not a sacrament; sacraments had not yet been instituted.  This marks both the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry and his identification with us, Jesus would later choose baptism to be the initiation and lifetime lifestyle of the reformation of the Jewish faith.

So much has happened in our understanding of all that surrounds the sacrament that I thought today would provide a good opportunity to talk about baptism.

Wm. J. Bausch in A New Look at the Sacraments tells us that in the Roman Empire where our church has roots, a “sacrament” meant an oath or pledge of allegiance a soldier took to the Roman emperor.  For us it is a public allegiance to follow Jesus.  We remember that Jesus never used the word, “sacrament” - it is a church word.

Years ago when many of us were baptized -- and perhaps your kids, too -- there was a rather shortsighted understanding of baptism.  Godparents took us to church.  Our mothers were home making the potato salad for the party afterward.  Honestly, there was often more concern about the party than for the baptism itself. 

Baptism was thought to be almost magical – a ceremony where water was poured and special words were said that would remove a stain from the soul.  “Stain” was a metaphor to indicate the effects of the sin of Adam and Eve. 

Today, “original sin” is seen as “sin in our origins” - the accumulation of evil that surrounds us from the time of Adam and Eve until the present.  Today, both parents and godparents are present and all four publicly promise to teach the Christian truths and practice that form a moral atmosphere, to be an influence for good to offset the worldly evil that engulfs the child.   To understand this, parents and sometimes, godparents are required to go to class on baptism before the child is baptized.

Baptism is not simply a ceremony - it is a lifestyle.  Baptism has an impact on our daily vocabulary, our attitude toward life, and our conduct.  It affects - or should affect- how we pay our taxes, work with co-workers, talk to and about our neighbors, how we choose to be entertained, how we react when we receive too much change from the store clerk.

For our pledge to take root, we need other believers to help us by their example on how to live out this pledge.  Faith is more caught than taught.  Our early practice of this lifestyle comes from our parents and family.  If their practice was good; our practice tended to be good.   If their practice was poor, our practice tended to be poor.   When we are old enough to know right from wrong in the atmosphere of our parents and family, we choose to keep – or not keep - this pledge for ourselves.  Not to decide is to decide negatively.

Like marriage and priesthood, baptism involves a vocation.  Baptism is actually a variation of the sacrament of marriage:  the Lord and we took each other for better, for worse; for richer for poorer; in sickness and in health, ... Until death do we unite.  It is about relationship

We hear today of “baptized unbelievers.”  a seeming contradiction: people who go through the motions of religion, but have not experienced the personal, life-altering conversion that is essential.  It was rightly said after the Vatican Council ended and a new course was set that the task of the church then was to convert the baptized.

The question is asked: why don’t we baptize people when they are old enough to choose for themselves?   Our answer:

That would mean that to raise a child religiously neutral is to be religiously neutral ourselves.   It would mean having our children live among us as non-Christians.  Also, it would be an impossible, psychological tension precluded by the very nature of faith and the commitment that faith requires.  It would be like not immunizing your child, spiritually.  Later, they may repudiate their baptism, but they cannot object later to having been baptized any more than they can object to their parents’ setting up an educational trust fund, if they later decide against further education.

Today is the last day of Christmastime in the liturgy.  Tomorrow begins “ordinary time,” the real Christian life is not lived in the more spectacular Christmas and Easter times, but in the long hauls in between.   Ordinary time provides us with the time to be faithful to our pledge, faithful to our sacrament of baptism - our vocation as ordinary people living as extraordinary Catholic Christians.

Epiphany of the Lord (January 5, 2020)

Kenneth Woodward, the longtime religion editor for Newsweek magazine says that there are some words that are unmistakably Catholic:

Missalette - strictly catholic
Ejaculation – claims he says that Catholics are the only ones who use the word in polite conversation without batting an eye.
Epiphany - manifestation or showing. 

Epiphany is the second part of Christmas time.  The time for gift giving in a large part of the world.  To celebrate December 25 only, is shortsighted; it is only half the Christmas story.  Perhaps we need to ask ourselves:

Do we tend to stop at the story of Christmas with baby Jesus?
Do we move beyond the crib, to the second part?

The Epiphany is manifestation of the good news of God’s love. It involves the search of the magi. (Magi-cians, astrologers are better words than kings.) The scribes had the information, but didn’t use it.  Because of the dullness or hardness of their hearts they ignored, “And you, Bethlehem of the tribe of Judah, a savior will arise from you.”

Herod got the information and used it - for his own self-interest - to stay in power. The magi did not know truth, the meaning of life; they had to look for it. They became curious about a star and they followed it.  They did not know where it would lead.  Wisely, they sought advice from the scribes, the experts.  The magi took the information and did use it. The magi were risk takers.  They were willing to broaden their horizons.

To find the Lord, we need to seek him as the magi who successfully sought and found him.  We do not find god in the book of the scriptures, alone. We find meaning to life by seeing our life experiences in the light of those words.  We experience a true epiphany in our lives each time we do this.

Epiphany is about the trials of a journey, about the generosity of bringing gifts, but above all, as an overarching presence:  it is about finding and accepting Jesus as the center of our life.

We speak of shepherds and wise men often in the same breath. They are the outer circles in our Christmas crèches; there is, at the center, Jesus in the manger, then Mary and Joseph forming the inner circle.  Then, the shepherds and various animals; finally, the wise men.

We have already heard how Mary and Joseph got there. Shepherds had it easy.  The directions were excellent.  The light was bright.  The journey was short.  The music was great!  The magi – as well as ourselves - have it tougher. 

There is plenty of confusion.  We are very often in the dark. Sometimes, we, like the whole venture, appear foolish.  Sometimes there is danger.  Some people whom we would like to please will think we are crazy.  Ironically, we think we are searching; but god, we are told, is actually reaching out to us; we are just responding.

The wise men reached their goal, Jesus, at the center.  The starlight may have been poor, but it was enough to get them there.  Our way may not always be clear; other lights shine brightly in competition.  But finding our way always has to do with seeking Jesus; and we always have enough light because Jesus is the light of the world.  He is always manifest in the gospel of Matthew which we just read, gifts are a way of expressing, giving ourselves to Christ. 

Gold symbolizes deep respect.  Our presence at mass is an expression of that gift.  Frankensence represents a caring, fragrant presence to others. Myrrh was used for embalming and symbolizes the faith that goes beyond death.  Faith is what underpins our gifts. A legend says that Casmir, Melchior, Balthazar travelled proclaiming Jesus’ kingship to Cologne in Germany.  In the cathedral that dominates that city, there are their reputed tombs behind the main altar.

It is our respect, our caring and our faith that we bring to our Lord.  Only in respecting and loving our lord are we able to enter the stable. Then, we who have found Jesus have the wonderful task of manifesting him to those whose lives we touch, of continuing the epiphany to the ends of the world.

Mary, Mother of God (January 1, 2020)

“Look at Mary in all the circumstances of her life. In her room at Nazareth she shows her modesty in that she is afraid, her candor in wanting to be instructed and in asking a question, her submission, her humility in calling herself a handmaid. Look at her in Bethlehem: she lives simply and in poverty, she listens to the shepherds as though they were learned doctors. Look at her in the company of the kings: she does not try to make any long speeches. Look at her at the time of her purification: she goes to the temple in order to conform to church customs. In going to Egypt and in returning she is simply obeying Joseph. She does not consider she is wasting time when she goes to visit her cousin Elizabeth as an act of loving courtesy. She looks for Our Lord not only in joy but also in tears. She has compassion on the poverty and confusion of those who invited her to the wedding, meeting their needs. She is at the foot of the cross, full of humility, lowliness, virtue, never drawing any attention to herself in the exercise of these qualities.” (Stopp, Selected Letters, page 159)

When Mary agreed to be the mother of Jesus, she got much more than she bargained for. Her “yes” to God’s invitation to be the mother of the Messiah forever changed the course of her life.

But as Francis de Sales observed, she constantly reaffirmed that “yes” as she experienced God’s Will for her son, God’s Will for her husband and God’s Will for her. In good times, bad times and all the times in between, she fully embraced the mysterious designs of God imbedded in whatever circumstances in which she found herself.

We, too, are called to give birth to Jesus. While not a physical birthing, this call is no less challenging or demanding than it was for Mary.

As we see in the life of Mary, giving birth to Jesus is not a one-time event: it is a life-long process. Saying “yes” to giving birth to Jesus is about being faithful to God’s Will for us and others, one day, one hour, one moment at a time.

Giving birth to Jesus is about fully and deeply embracing the responsibilities, events and circumstances of the state and stage of life in which we find ourselves. It’s about rolling with the punches while remaining steadfast in the conviction that God loves and cares for us.

Mary is a powerful reminder that giving birth to Jesus brings more than its share of inconveniences, headaches and heartaches. At the same time, Mary is likewise a powerful reminder of how one person’s fidelity to the Will of God can change the world…for the better.