Wednesday, Memorial of Saint Basil the Great and Saint Gregory
Nazianzen, bishops and doctors of the Church
(John 1: 19-28)
Today the Church recognizes two holy theologians, Basil (called “the Great”) and Gregory Nazianzen. It honors them together not just because they were contemporaries but also because they were close friends. It seems as if the Church wants us to begin the New Year with a reflection on friendship.
Gregory Nazianzen once preached about his friendship with Basil. He said that both came to Athens as students where they competed with one another to learn as much as possible. But, he went on, their rivalry never resulted in envy over each other’s achievements; rather, out of love, each gladly yielded highest honors to the other.
Aristotle sees various levels of friendship. We like some people because they are useful for business purposes. We enjoy others for their good humor or interesting viewpoints. But we reserve our deepest love for virtuous people in whom we see reflections of ourselves. They possess the goodness that we wish to attain. More than that, they help us achieve virtue by their honest and caring conversation.
At the end of the Gospel According to John, Jesus tells his disciples that they are his friends. He loves them deeply and wants them to share in the unity which he enjoys with God. One worthwhile resolution for the New Year is to strive to better friends to our acquaintances and to seek a closer friendship with Jesus.
Homilette for January 1, 2008
The Octave Day of Christmas: the Solemnity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Mother of God
(Luke 2:16-21)
We call the first month of the year January after Janus, the pagan god of gates or doors. Statues of Janus have two heads like a door has two sides -- one looking backward and the other forward. Certainly in January we look in these two directions. We repeatedly refer to the old year, sometimes mistakenly writing it on checks. But as the month moves along, we think more of the possibilities lying in the year just begun.
The last verse of the gospel reading today similarly looks backward and forward. It says that Mary’s child “was named Jesus, the name given him by the angel...” The word of God spoken in the past has thus been fulfilled. The name Jesus, of course, means God saves. In the rest of the gospel we will hear how Jesus fulfills the destiny related in his name.
Preachers sometimes chide listeners, “Put Christ back into Christmas.” If this call means nothing else, it reminds us that we are to look both backward and forward when contemplating Jesus in the manger. He, like all babies, has delighted us with his soft flesh and warm blood. In the future he will reveal his glory as the son of God with his triumph over sin and death.
(Luke 2:16-21)
We call the first month of the year January after Janus, the pagan god of gates or doors. Statues of Janus have two heads like a door has two sides -- one looking backward and the other forward. Certainly in January we look in these two directions. We repeatedly refer to the old year, sometimes mistakenly writing it on checks. But as the month moves along, we think more of the possibilities lying in the year just begun.
The last verse of the gospel reading today similarly looks backward and forward. It says that Mary’s child “was named Jesus, the name given him by the angel...” The word of God spoken in the past has thus been fulfilled. The name Jesus, of course, means God saves. In the rest of the gospel we will hear how Jesus fulfills the destiny related in his name.
Preachers sometimes chide listeners, “Put Christ back into Christmas.” If this call means nothing else, it reminds us that we are to look both backward and forward when contemplating Jesus in the manger. He, like all babies, has delighted us with his soft flesh and warm blood. In the future he will reveal his glory as the son of God with his triumph over sin and death.
Homilette for January 31, 2007
Monday, the Seventh Day in the Octave of Christmas
(John 1:1-18)
Some people may find it curious that the Church ends the calendar year with a reading from the beginning of one of the gospels. However, those who remember the so-called Tridentine Mass will recognize the passage as the “last gospel.” It is read at the closing of every mass celebrated according to the Tridentine rubrics.
The passage itself summarizes the story the whole gospel is about to tell. The Word of God, Jesus the Christ, existed before creation began and is the source of all creation. Although he is one with God, he came to live with humans so that we might share in the life of God. But like coyotes returning to their dens at sunrise, humans often reject the light of Christ. To those who brave the embarrassment of having their sins exposed, however, Christ confers the grace to repent and be forgiven.
Today is a choice day for going to confession. We want to end the old year reconciled for the mistakes we have made. And we want to begin the new year with a resolve to live in accord with the light of Christ.
(John 1:1-18)
Some people may find it curious that the Church ends the calendar year with a reading from the beginning of one of the gospels. However, those who remember the so-called Tridentine Mass will recognize the passage as the “last gospel.” It is read at the closing of every mass celebrated according to the Tridentine rubrics.
The passage itself summarizes the story the whole gospel is about to tell. The Word of God, Jesus the Christ, existed before creation began and is the source of all creation. Although he is one with God, he came to live with humans so that we might share in the life of God. But like coyotes returning to their dens at sunrise, humans often reject the light of Christ. To those who brave the embarrassment of having their sins exposed, however, Christ confers the grace to repent and be forgiven.
Today is a choice day for going to confession. We want to end the old year reconciled for the mistakes we have made. And we want to begin the new year with a resolve to live in accord with the light of Christ.
Homilette for December 28, 2007
Feast of the Holy Innocents, martyrs
(Matthew 2:13-18)
In Europe you might find your car’s tires without any air today. Or perhaps there will be three unordered pizzas delivered to your door. The Feast of the Holy Innocents is Europe’s equivalent to the American April Fools Day. It is a time to play practical jokes on good-natured people.
We may be shocked by the European frivolity on a day that memorializes the slaughter of children. But perhaps Holy Innocents Day jokesters just take to heart the belief that the infants have gone to God. “So why not rejoice?” they might ask. Somehow, however, that is just too casual an attitude. It does not recoil at the grotesque injustice of the blood of children. It would mock, for example, the outrage at a public policy which permits abortion on demand. It also begs the question: why live at all?
All Catholics born before Vatican II should easily recite the answer to this last question. We live to know, love, and serve God in this world and to be happy with him in the next. If this is so, the tragedy of children dying is the irreversible condition of their minds being wasted. Dead children cannot come to know God very well. Yes, they should receive the beatific vision. And there might be something marvelous about seeing God through children’s eyes. But just as the art connoisseur will appreciate aspects of a Rubens painting that completely escape the uncultured so growing in wisdom should make us more enthralled at God’s glory. It is good to grow old then if we accordingly grow in wisdom. Reciprocally, it is a tragedy when one dies young.
(Matthew 2:13-18)
In Europe you might find your car’s tires without any air today. Or perhaps there will be three unordered pizzas delivered to your door. The Feast of the Holy Innocents is Europe’s equivalent to the American April Fools Day. It is a time to play practical jokes on good-natured people.
We may be shocked by the European frivolity on a day that memorializes the slaughter of children. But perhaps Holy Innocents Day jokesters just take to heart the belief that the infants have gone to God. “So why not rejoice?” they might ask. Somehow, however, that is just too casual an attitude. It does not recoil at the grotesque injustice of the blood of children. It would mock, for example, the outrage at a public policy which permits abortion on demand. It also begs the question: why live at all?
All Catholics born before Vatican II should easily recite the answer to this last question. We live to know, love, and serve God in this world and to be happy with him in the next. If this is so, the tragedy of children dying is the irreversible condition of their minds being wasted. Dead children cannot come to know God very well. Yes, they should receive the beatific vision. And there might be something marvelous about seeing God through children’s eyes. But just as the art connoisseur will appreciate aspects of a Rubens painting that completely escape the uncultured so growing in wisdom should make us more enthralled at God’s glory. It is good to grow old then if we accordingly grow in wisdom. Reciprocally, it is a tragedy when one dies young.
Homilette for December 27, 2007
Feast of St. John, Apostle and Evangelist
(I John 1:1-4)
Once a disillusioned pilgrim to Bethlehem returned home lamenting the conditions he encountered. Not only was there strife between Jews and Arabs, but hawkers constantly besieged him with their trinkets. The situation in the Holy Land, the pilgrim concluded, has certainly deteriorated since Christ’s time.
Although the Gospel of Luke depicts a tranquil setting for Jesus’ birth, there is much evidence in the New Testament of conflict. In John’s gospel Jesus conducts a running debate with the Jews who try to kill him. The Letters of John report a feud between the community of the beloved disciple and a secessionist group who apparently believed that morals do not matter. We can add to the evidence that strife abounded in New Testament times all we know from history about the Roman occupation and Jewish liberation efforts.
In spite of all this conflict, the writer of the First Letter of John offers a testimony of hope. Much more than a vision, the testimony involves a real human being – one looked upon with his eyes, heard with his ears, and touched with his hands. He is saying that in the midst of the turmoil, Jesus, the Word of life, has promised everlasting life to his followers. For those who follow Jesus’ commands – not just that of love in the gospel but also what the Spirit since Jesus’ ascension – he will give an eternal reward. As we celebrate the birth of Jesus, we should be asking ourselves if we have been true to the Word of life.
(I John 1:1-4)
Once a disillusioned pilgrim to Bethlehem returned home lamenting the conditions he encountered. Not only was there strife between Jews and Arabs, but hawkers constantly besieged him with their trinkets. The situation in the Holy Land, the pilgrim concluded, has certainly deteriorated since Christ’s time.
Although the Gospel of Luke depicts a tranquil setting for Jesus’ birth, there is much evidence in the New Testament of conflict. In John’s gospel Jesus conducts a running debate with the Jews who try to kill him. The Letters of John report a feud between the community of the beloved disciple and a secessionist group who apparently believed that morals do not matter. We can add to the evidence that strife abounded in New Testament times all we know from history about the Roman occupation and Jewish liberation efforts.
In spite of all this conflict, the writer of the First Letter of John offers a testimony of hope. Much more than a vision, the testimony involves a real human being – one looked upon with his eyes, heard with his ears, and touched with his hands. He is saying that in the midst of the turmoil, Jesus, the Word of life, has promised everlasting life to his followers. For those who follow Jesus’ commands – not just that of love in the gospel but also what the Spirit since Jesus’ ascension – he will give an eternal reward. As we celebrate the birth of Jesus, we should be asking ourselves if we have been true to the Word of life.
Homilette for December 26, 2007
Wednesday, Feast of St. Stephen, Proto-martyr
(Acts 6:8-10;7:54-59)
The play Murder in the Cathedral tells the story of the martyrdom of St. Thomas Becket, the Archbishop of Canterbury, in 1170. Half-way through the play, the archbishop delivers his Christmas sermon. He tells the congregation that in the Christmas mass not only the birth of Jesus but also his passion and death are remembered. This dual remembrance indicates that the Christian life is neither pure joy nor pure sorrow. We live both on every occasion. Thomas goes on to ask, “Is it an accident … that the day of the first martyr follows immediately the day of the Birth of Christ?” No, the Church deliberately places the martyrdom of Stephen on the day after Christmas to temper our celebration. We must keep in mind the dual sentiment of Christian life.
Unless people think that the dual sentiment is solely the invention of the Medieval Church, we can point to the same duality in both Luke’s and Matthew’s Nativity accounts. In Luke after Jesus is born his parents take him to the Temple where the holy man Simeon makes the foreboding prophecy that Jesus will be a sign to be contradicted. In other words, Jesus’ enemies will do him in. In Matthew the horror is more obvious. Jesus’ birth occasions the jealousy of King Herod. To eliminate his rival Herod has all male infants of the area two years and under murdered.
We must take to heart the traverse sentiments of Christian life. Our happiest celebrations like a dear friend’s birthday should not ignore the fact that fellow humans are suffering often dire need. Similarly, our most intolerable burdens like the loss of a loved one should not go without faith in Christ’s victory over sin and death. Christians are neither rosy-eyed optimists nor unrelenting pessimists. No, we live both the death and the resurrection of the Lord deep in our hearts everyday.
(Acts 6:8-10;7:54-59)
The play Murder in the Cathedral tells the story of the martyrdom of St. Thomas Becket, the Archbishop of Canterbury, in 1170. Half-way through the play, the archbishop delivers his Christmas sermon. He tells the congregation that in the Christmas mass not only the birth of Jesus but also his passion and death are remembered. This dual remembrance indicates that the Christian life is neither pure joy nor pure sorrow. We live both on every occasion. Thomas goes on to ask, “Is it an accident … that the day of the first martyr follows immediately the day of the Birth of Christ?” No, the Church deliberately places the martyrdom of Stephen on the day after Christmas to temper our celebration. We must keep in mind the dual sentiment of Christian life.
Unless people think that the dual sentiment is solely the invention of the Medieval Church, we can point to the same duality in both Luke’s and Matthew’s Nativity accounts. In Luke after Jesus is born his parents take him to the Temple where the holy man Simeon makes the foreboding prophecy that Jesus will be a sign to be contradicted. In other words, Jesus’ enemies will do him in. In Matthew the horror is more obvious. Jesus’ birth occasions the jealousy of King Herod. To eliminate his rival Herod has all male infants of the area two years and under murdered.
We must take to heart the traverse sentiments of Christian life. Our happiest celebrations like a dear friend’s birthday should not ignore the fact that fellow humans are suffering often dire need. Similarly, our most intolerable burdens like the loss of a loved one should not go without faith in Christ’s victory over sin and death. Christians are neither rosy-eyed optimists nor unrelenting pessimists. No, we live both the death and the resurrection of the Lord deep in our hearts everyday.
Homilette for Decembe 25, 2007
Christmas Day
(Lk 2: 15-20)
Christmas may be fulfilling or disillusioning depending on how we respond to the occasion. God provides us a golden opportunity. With the supreme gesture of goodwill, He sends His son to us. What are we going to make of it? In the gospel this morning we find three groups of people all reacting differently to God’s offer. The shepherds hear the favorable news, investigate the claim, and recognize their savior. They represent the people who really do appreciate the value of God’s gift. They are much like us at mass this morning. We know that our Savior has come and we must follow him by letting go of our own troubles to serve others. We will do this for awhile and perhaps make it through New Year’s without becoming overly perturbed. But then, we will be sorely tempted to cuss the old man driving slowly or the young woman speeding between job and family.
The second group we meet in the gospel passage are those whom the shepherds tell of all that they have heard and seen. These people are said to be amazed by what they are told. But this, even in biblical times, means little. Many in the Gospel are amazed by Jesus’ miracles but fail to respond with true discipleship. Their faith has little root like, perhaps, the majority of people celebrating Christmas. They buy and buy, party and party. But somehow the motive behind the celebration gets lost. Is it not telling that on the day after Christmas radio stations stop playing Christmas carols, department store decor changes, and tinseled trees wind up in empty lots? Christ, the prince of peace, the savior of the world, has precious little practical effect on this lot.
The third group in the Gospel story is actually just one person. Mary is said to reflect on the events of Jesus’ birth in her heart. She is the model Christian who not only hears but also meditates on the word of God. In Luke’s gospel she also is pictured as putting that word into action. We find people like Mary running to Elizabeth when the angel tells her that her cousin is pregnant. She gives us a model of how to live out our discipleship of Christ. The young bachelor who teaches catechism even though the majority of catechists are married women with children is acting on God’s word. Also, the elderly woman who on Sundays cooks for her family, listens to the problems of her neighbors, and prepares the monitions and intercessory prayers for Mass clings to God’s word like Mary.
(Lk 2: 15-20)
Christmas may be fulfilling or disillusioning depending on how we respond to the occasion. God provides us a golden opportunity. With the supreme gesture of goodwill, He sends His son to us. What are we going to make of it? In the gospel this morning we find three groups of people all reacting differently to God’s offer. The shepherds hear the favorable news, investigate the claim, and recognize their savior. They represent the people who really do appreciate the value of God’s gift. They are much like us at mass this morning. We know that our Savior has come and we must follow him by letting go of our own troubles to serve others. We will do this for awhile and perhaps make it through New Year’s without becoming overly perturbed. But then, we will be sorely tempted to cuss the old man driving slowly or the young woman speeding between job and family.
The second group we meet in the gospel passage are those whom the shepherds tell of all that they have heard and seen. These people are said to be amazed by what they are told. But this, even in biblical times, means little. Many in the Gospel are amazed by Jesus’ miracles but fail to respond with true discipleship. Their faith has little root like, perhaps, the majority of people celebrating Christmas. They buy and buy, party and party. But somehow the motive behind the celebration gets lost. Is it not telling that on the day after Christmas radio stations stop playing Christmas carols, department store decor changes, and tinseled trees wind up in empty lots? Christ, the prince of peace, the savior of the world, has precious little practical effect on this lot.
The third group in the Gospel story is actually just one person. Mary is said to reflect on the events of Jesus’ birth in her heart. She is the model Christian who not only hears but also meditates on the word of God. In Luke’s gospel she also is pictured as putting that word into action. We find people like Mary running to Elizabeth when the angel tells her that her cousin is pregnant. She gives us a model of how to live out our discipleship of Christ. The young bachelor who teaches catechism even though the majority of catechists are married women with children is acting on God’s word. Also, the elderly woman who on Sundays cooks for her family, listens to the problems of her neighbors, and prepares the monitions and intercessory prayers for Mass clings to God’s word like Mary.
Homilette for December 24, 2007
Monday, December 24, 2007
(Luke 2:67-79)
A boy returned home from school recently to tell his grandmother that Jesus was not born in December but in March. The date, he explained, was changed for commercial reasons. It is likely that the lad is partly right. No one today knows exactly when Jesus was born. It may have been during the month of March or any of the other months.
The indications that the gospels give regarding a Jesus’ birthday – a census decreed by Caesar Augustus and a strangely moving star – appear to be more theological than historical markers. The Church (not Macy’s) placed the date at the end of December because this too conforms to what we believe about Christ. As Zechariah refers to him in the gospel this morning, Jesus is “the dawn...that shine(s) on those in darkness and the valley of death and guide(s) our feet into the way of peace.” In other words, Jesus is like the sun that appears every morning and especially like the sun of late December that reverses, in the northern hemisphere at least, the trend of decreasing daylight throughout summer and fall.
Comparing Jesus to the sun helps us appreciate his significance. Just as the sun provides heat and light so that we may live naturally so Jesus provides us love and truth so that we might have a relationship with God. Without Jesus our love would be like a firecracker that sparkles for a moment and then fizzles until it becomes cold ash. Without Jesus we would wander in the darkness of sin choosing to do, like a dog feasting on rotten meat, what can harm us. The date on which Jesus was born is not important. What is important – indeed absolutely necessary – is that Jesus is with us.
(Luke 2:67-79)
A boy returned home from school recently to tell his grandmother that Jesus was not born in December but in March. The date, he explained, was changed for commercial reasons. It is likely that the lad is partly right. No one today knows exactly when Jesus was born. It may have been during the month of March or any of the other months.
The indications that the gospels give regarding a Jesus’ birthday – a census decreed by Caesar Augustus and a strangely moving star – appear to be more theological than historical markers. The Church (not Macy’s) placed the date at the end of December because this too conforms to what we believe about Christ. As Zechariah refers to him in the gospel this morning, Jesus is “the dawn...that shine(s) on those in darkness and the valley of death and guide(s) our feet into the way of peace.” In other words, Jesus is like the sun that appears every morning and especially like the sun of late December that reverses, in the northern hemisphere at least, the trend of decreasing daylight throughout summer and fall.
Comparing Jesus to the sun helps us appreciate his significance. Just as the sun provides heat and light so that we may live naturally so Jesus provides us love and truth so that we might have a relationship with God. Without Jesus our love would be like a firecracker that sparkles for a moment and then fizzles until it becomes cold ash. Without Jesus we would wander in the darkness of sin choosing to do, like a dog feasting on rotten meat, what can harm us. The date on which Jesus was born is not important. What is important – indeed absolutely necessary – is that Jesus is with us.
Homilette for December 21, 2007
Friday, December 21, 2007
(Luke 1:39-45)
In October of 1964, the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was a patient at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Atlanta when the news reported that he would receive that year’s Nobel Peace Prize. The archbishop of Atlanta, Paul Hallinan, took advantage of his stay in a Catholic hospital to personally visit the newly named laureate. He congratulated King for the honor and asked if he might give him his blessing. The great peacemaker readily accepted the offer. Upon finishing the sign of the cross, the archbishop sank to his knees begging Dr. King’s blessing in return.
This meeting between the two religious leaders resembles the movement in the gospel today. The elderly woman gives a blessing to her young counterpart. But it was not the press that informed Elizabeth of Mary’s distinction as mother of God, however. No, it was the divine interplay between the Messiah in Mary’s womb and the prophet in leaping in her own that tipped Elizabeth off. Mary then issues her own blessing, not on Elizabeth but on the Lord who has honored her so graciously.
We might suspend our seasonal activities for a few minutes to meditate on the divine player in this gospel. Who is he whose birth we are about to celebrate? Jesus, son of Mary, claimed by us Christians to be son of God as well. Sure, but what does all this mean? The appropriate clues to answer these questions may be found in the antiphons that we use before the gospel the eight days before Christmas. These are the same as the verses to the Advent hymn, “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.” Jesus is Emmanuel, God with us. He is the Wisdom that makes sense of our lives. He is the Radiant Dawn and Sun of Justice that illumine the way to salvation. Reflecting on these antiphons, we know why John leaps for joy when Jesus approaches.
(Luke 1:39-45)
In October of 1964, the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was a patient at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Atlanta when the news reported that he would receive that year’s Nobel Peace Prize. The archbishop of Atlanta, Paul Hallinan, took advantage of his stay in a Catholic hospital to personally visit the newly named laureate. He congratulated King for the honor and asked if he might give him his blessing. The great peacemaker readily accepted the offer. Upon finishing the sign of the cross, the archbishop sank to his knees begging Dr. King’s blessing in return.
This meeting between the two religious leaders resembles the movement in the gospel today. The elderly woman gives a blessing to her young counterpart. But it was not the press that informed Elizabeth of Mary’s distinction as mother of God, however. No, it was the divine interplay between the Messiah in Mary’s womb and the prophet in leaping in her own that tipped Elizabeth off. Mary then issues her own blessing, not on Elizabeth but on the Lord who has honored her so graciously.
We might suspend our seasonal activities for a few minutes to meditate on the divine player in this gospel. Who is he whose birth we are about to celebrate? Jesus, son of Mary, claimed by us Christians to be son of God as well. Sure, but what does all this mean? The appropriate clues to answer these questions may be found in the antiphons that we use before the gospel the eight days before Christmas. These are the same as the verses to the Advent hymn, “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.” Jesus is Emmanuel, God with us. He is the Wisdom that makes sense of our lives. He is the Radiant Dawn and Sun of Justice that illumine the way to salvation. Reflecting on these antiphons, we know why John leaps for joy when Jesus approaches.
Homilette for December 28, 2007
Thursday, December 20, 2007
(Luke 1:26-38)
It is said that a military commander may not send troops on a “suicide mission” without their consent. A society can conscript a person into the army as a matter of the common good. Also, the common good may dictate that the military then order the conscripted soldier to battle with the possibility, but not the surety, that he or, we should add, she may die in action. If, however, there is near certainty that the soldier will be killed, the military should obtain his (her) permission because soldiers are enlisted to give their service not their lives.
In this gospel of the annunciation, God gives to the Virgin Mary a similar prerogative to withdraw from his plan of salvation. Although the passage uses the declarative mode “you will...,” the angel waits for her consent. She is free to refuse to cooperate with the heretofore unheard of plan of conceiving by the Holy Spirit to give Israel its long-awaited Messiah. In a famous homily, the great medieval preacher St. Bernard of Clairveaux pictures the world hanging on Mary’s word. Of course, she expresses her willingness to set in process the Incarnation.
As God does not force Mary to participate in His plan, He does not force salvation on us. We are free to accept or reject it. Although it is an entirely free and gratuitous gift, it does involve some effort. We have to heed the words of Mary’s baby Jesus when he grows up. But his commands are not so much burdensome as they are liberating. We may think of them as directions from MapQuest. They provide us the best possible way to get us to where we want to go.
(Luke 1:26-38)
It is said that a military commander may not send troops on a “suicide mission” without their consent. A society can conscript a person into the army as a matter of the common good. Also, the common good may dictate that the military then order the conscripted soldier to battle with the possibility, but not the surety, that he or, we should add, she may die in action. If, however, there is near certainty that the soldier will be killed, the military should obtain his (her) permission because soldiers are enlisted to give their service not their lives.
In this gospel of the annunciation, God gives to the Virgin Mary a similar prerogative to withdraw from his plan of salvation. Although the passage uses the declarative mode “you will...,” the angel waits for her consent. She is free to refuse to cooperate with the heretofore unheard of plan of conceiving by the Holy Spirit to give Israel its long-awaited Messiah. In a famous homily, the great medieval preacher St. Bernard of Clairveaux pictures the world hanging on Mary’s word. Of course, she expresses her willingness to set in process the Incarnation.
As God does not force Mary to participate in His plan, He does not force salvation on us. We are free to accept or reject it. Although it is an entirely free and gratuitous gift, it does involve some effort. We have to heed the words of Mary’s baby Jesus when he grows up. But his commands are not so much burdensome as they are liberating. We may think of them as directions from MapQuest. They provide us the best possible way to get us to where we want to go.
Homilette for December 19, 2007
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
(Luke 1:5-25)
It is said that for Jews the first commandment is not: “Thou shalt have no strange gods before me,” or even: “Love God with all your heart…” No, their first commandment comes from the initial words God speaks to humans. In Genesis 1:22, God tells them, “Be fruitful and multiply.” We can thus appreciate the disappointment of Zechariah and Elizabeth – two people recognized as God-fearing -- in never having given birth. Probably, there were some less edifying reasons for their feeling “disgrace.” People might have snickered at them as somehow inadequate in sexual relations. Perhaps, also, they might have wanted a child just to bear their name, to take up their profession, and to take them to see their doctors.
We can speculate a bit on how the couple felt when they saw John grow up. He evidently did not take up his father’s priesthood. But more peculiar, surely, was his moving to the desert to live on a diet of locusts and honey. Is this just another example of a kid failing to live up to his parents’ expectations? But all this goes way beyond Luke’s purpose in narrating the story of the holy couple.
Luke punctuates the fact that Zechariah seeks a sign from the angel who bore the news of his son’s unlikely conception. The evangelist reminds us here of the people in the gospel seeking a sign from Jesus. They were not sure that they could trust him even after he demonstrates his divine authority time and again. What God calls forth from Zechariah -- and from us as well -- is trust. He gives his word to Zechariah that Elizabeth is going to bear him a child. “Enough; believe it, Zechariah, and give praise to God,” a wise person would admonish the priest. Jesus speaks similarly to us. “Prepare for my return.” He tells us in the early days of Advent. And so we are to practice his virtues without grumbling. We are to care for the needy, to pray for those who would persecute us, and to thank God continuously for everything we have.
(Luke 1:5-25)
It is said that for Jews the first commandment is not: “Thou shalt have no strange gods before me,” or even: “Love God with all your heart…” No, their first commandment comes from the initial words God speaks to humans. In Genesis 1:22, God tells them, “Be fruitful and multiply.” We can thus appreciate the disappointment of Zechariah and Elizabeth – two people recognized as God-fearing -- in never having given birth. Probably, there were some less edifying reasons for their feeling “disgrace.” People might have snickered at them as somehow inadequate in sexual relations. Perhaps, also, they might have wanted a child just to bear their name, to take up their profession, and to take them to see their doctors.
We can speculate a bit on how the couple felt when they saw John grow up. He evidently did not take up his father’s priesthood. But more peculiar, surely, was his moving to the desert to live on a diet of locusts and honey. Is this just another example of a kid failing to live up to his parents’ expectations? But all this goes way beyond Luke’s purpose in narrating the story of the holy couple.
Luke punctuates the fact that Zechariah seeks a sign from the angel who bore the news of his son’s unlikely conception. The evangelist reminds us here of the people in the gospel seeking a sign from Jesus. They were not sure that they could trust him even after he demonstrates his divine authority time and again. What God calls forth from Zechariah -- and from us as well -- is trust. He gives his word to Zechariah that Elizabeth is going to bear him a child. “Enough; believe it, Zechariah, and give praise to God,” a wise person would admonish the priest. Jesus speaks similarly to us. “Prepare for my return.” He tells us in the early days of Advent. And so we are to practice his virtues without grumbling. We are to care for the needy, to pray for those who would persecute us, and to thank God continuously for everything we have.
Homilette for December 18, 2007
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
(Jeremiah 23:5-8)
Listening to the children of the poor, we may receive an entirely new concept of “Christmas gift.” Once, a missionary went to the highlands of Honduras to celebrate mass on the night after Christmas Day. Arriving early in the evening, he attended the meeting of the youth group. The group’s leader asked the missionary to say something. He only inquired about the children’s Christmas gifts. But the children didn’t seem to understand. Rather than describe any toy or clothing they might have received, they only mentioned how they would be more obedient and prayerful. Then the priest realized that he was the one who lacked comprehension. The children’s parents were too destitute to provide material gifts for them. “Christmas gifts” were what they all did to show Jesus how much they love him.
In the reading today from Jeremiah, the prophet provides us with a similarly new concept of “the Promised Land.” He foretells all the descendants of Israel taking up residence on their own rightful land. Jesus fulfills this prophecy by giving us, the new Israelites because of our relationship with him, the Promised Land. But the lot that Jesus has in mind is not real estate in the State of Israel. No, Jesus will provide a place in heaven for those who are keep his commandments.
This promise of heaven may sound like a shady deal. But I suspect that the more chastened among us will gladly take it. We realize that those Honduran highlander children have better Christmas gifts than kids receiving the latest Nintendo issue. We also believe that a share in heaven, which begins with true love in this life, is better than any place on earth.
(Jeremiah 23:5-8)
Listening to the children of the poor, we may receive an entirely new concept of “Christmas gift.” Once, a missionary went to the highlands of Honduras to celebrate mass on the night after Christmas Day. Arriving early in the evening, he attended the meeting of the youth group. The group’s leader asked the missionary to say something. He only inquired about the children’s Christmas gifts. But the children didn’t seem to understand. Rather than describe any toy or clothing they might have received, they only mentioned how they would be more obedient and prayerful. Then the priest realized that he was the one who lacked comprehension. The children’s parents were too destitute to provide material gifts for them. “Christmas gifts” were what they all did to show Jesus how much they love him.
In the reading today from Jeremiah, the prophet provides us with a similarly new concept of “the Promised Land.” He foretells all the descendants of Israel taking up residence on their own rightful land. Jesus fulfills this prophecy by giving us, the new Israelites because of our relationship with him, the Promised Land. But the lot that Jesus has in mind is not real estate in the State of Israel. No, Jesus will provide a place in heaven for those who are keep his commandments.
This promise of heaven may sound like a shady deal. But I suspect that the more chastened among us will gladly take it. We realize that those Honduran highlander children have better Christmas gifts than kids receiving the latest Nintendo issue. We also believe that a share in heaven, which begins with true love in this life, is better than any place on earth.
Homilette for December 17, 2007
Monday, December 17, 2007
(Matthew 1:1-17)
On first seeing the genealogy in the Gospel either of Matthew or of Luke, we want to skip through the list. “What importance can they add to our understanding of Jesus?” we ask ourselves. “Much more than a normal person imagines,” is a just answer to our question. The two lists differ in places so it seems impossible that they both are historically accurate. But each relates important truths that the Church holds concerning Jesus and that has become part of our faith. They are like DNA codes that reveal something of a person’s innate character.
Since the gospel today relates Matthew’s genealogy we will limit our focus to its contents. Obviously, the list tells us that Jesus is indeed the son of David, the great king of Israel, and also the son of Abraham, to whom God made the promise of a blessing to all nations. Jesus is, we may say, the royal Messiah whom has God has sent to save the human race.
The list conveys a sense of the world’s readiness for salvation as it divides Jesus’ ancestors in three groups of fourteen generations. Matthew uses the convention of lists of seven or fourteen (two times seven) to give a sense of fulfillment, as seven is a full week and is said to signify perfection. Jesus represents the conclusion of three sets of fourteen, the conclusion of history. As the Christ, Jesus also ushers in a new age of grace.
Finally, the series refers to five women – Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba (“the wife of Uriah”), and Mary, the mother of Jesus. These remarkable women show how God works in unexpected even, given the truth of the virgin birth, unheard of ways to accomplish His ends.
Today we begin the final part of Advent, the immediate preparation for Christmas. We notice in the gospel acclamation the first of the great “O” antiphons which Israel used as titles for the Messiah and we adopt to call upon the Lord. Now more than ever we should take time from the hustle-bustle of the season to meditate. “Why do I need a savior?” each of us needs to ask. we might also contemplate, “How does the `wisdom of the ages’ (from today gospel acclamation) respond to my need?”
(Matthew 1:1-17)
On first seeing the genealogy in the Gospel either of Matthew or of Luke, we want to skip through the list. “What importance can they add to our understanding of Jesus?” we ask ourselves. “Much more than a normal person imagines,” is a just answer to our question. The two lists differ in places so it seems impossible that they both are historically accurate. But each relates important truths that the Church holds concerning Jesus and that has become part of our faith. They are like DNA codes that reveal something of a person’s innate character.
Since the gospel today relates Matthew’s genealogy we will limit our focus to its contents. Obviously, the list tells us that Jesus is indeed the son of David, the great king of Israel, and also the son of Abraham, to whom God made the promise of a blessing to all nations. Jesus is, we may say, the royal Messiah whom has God has sent to save the human race.
The list conveys a sense of the world’s readiness for salvation as it divides Jesus’ ancestors in three groups of fourteen generations. Matthew uses the convention of lists of seven or fourteen (two times seven) to give a sense of fulfillment, as seven is a full week and is said to signify perfection. Jesus represents the conclusion of three sets of fourteen, the conclusion of history. As the Christ, Jesus also ushers in a new age of grace.
Finally, the series refers to five women – Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba (“the wife of Uriah”), and Mary, the mother of Jesus. These remarkable women show how God works in unexpected even, given the truth of the virgin birth, unheard of ways to accomplish His ends.
Today we begin the final part of Advent, the immediate preparation for Christmas. We notice in the gospel acclamation the first of the great “O” antiphons which Israel used as titles for the Messiah and we adopt to call upon the Lord. Now more than ever we should take time from the hustle-bustle of the season to meditate. “Why do I need a savior?” each of us needs to ask. we might also contemplate, “How does the `wisdom of the ages’ (from today gospel acclamation) respond to my need?”
Homilette for December 14, 2007
Friday, II Week of Advent, Memorial of St. John of the Cross, Priest and Doctor of the Church
(Matthew 11:16-19)
In an illustration of a Bible drawn when Bibles were laboriously copied by hand and illustrated with gold leaf, the angels are announcing the birth of the Messiah to the shepherds around Bethlehem. Most of the shepherds are listening to the message, but in the corner two -- a young man and his maiden -- are merrily dancing off. The illustration forthrightly depicts what we know by experience -- the good news is intended for all but some choose not to heed it.
In the gospel today Jesus expresses his frustration with those who deliberately ignore the gospel. He says that it has been preached in varied tones – the sternness of John the Baptist and the festiveness of himself; still, most of those in his generation find objection to it. Could it be that the idea of a God who is so close to us – nearer to us than we are to ourselves, says St. Augustine – is too much for these people to bear? Apparently for them life is easier to deal with if God would be distant and not so caring.
In less than two weeks now we will be celebrating the feast of God’s closeness. More than anything Christmas tells us how much God loves us – so much that He gives up His place in the heavens, as it were, to accompany us in our need. Our response must only be one of attentiveness to what He has to say. Like Mary in Luke’s portrayal of the Christmas story, we have to meditate on the events “reflecting on them in (our) heart(s).”
(Matthew 11:16-19)
In an illustration of a Bible drawn when Bibles were laboriously copied by hand and illustrated with gold leaf, the angels are announcing the birth of the Messiah to the shepherds around Bethlehem. Most of the shepherds are listening to the message, but in the corner two -- a young man and his maiden -- are merrily dancing off. The illustration forthrightly depicts what we know by experience -- the good news is intended for all but some choose not to heed it.
In the gospel today Jesus expresses his frustration with those who deliberately ignore the gospel. He says that it has been preached in varied tones – the sternness of John the Baptist and the festiveness of himself; still, most of those in his generation find objection to it. Could it be that the idea of a God who is so close to us – nearer to us than we are to ourselves, says St. Augustine – is too much for these people to bear? Apparently for them life is easier to deal with if God would be distant and not so caring.
In less than two weeks now we will be celebrating the feast of God’s closeness. More than anything Christmas tells us how much God loves us – so much that He gives up His place in the heavens, as it were, to accompany us in our need. Our response must only be one of attentiveness to what He has to say. Like Mary in Luke’s portrayal of the Christmas story, we have to meditate on the events “reflecting on them in (our) heart(s).”
Homilette for December 13, 2007
Thursday, II Week of Advent, Memorial of St. Lucy, Virgin and Martyr
(Matthew 11:11-15)
When I suggested that the pious elderly Italian woman might enjoy some spiritual reading, she dropped her head in sadness. Then she confessed that she only went to school for a couple of years and never learned to read well. Most of the world is fortunate to have at least a basic education. We might not read much but we have been taught to read well enough. Likewise we are privileged to live in this era when one can count on growing old. Medicine and hygiene have inverted the average age of death over the last hundred years. In 1900 people died on the average at forty-seven years; in 2000, that number was seventy-four.
If we count our blessings in this way, we can understand why Jesus calls “the least in the kingdom of heaven” greater than John the Baptist. The “least in the kingdom” refers to his disciples, not limited to the inner twelve but all who follow him, including ourselves. We are blessed in a way that John wasn’t because we have experienced the fullness of the Kingdom in the death and resurrection of Jesus. Of course, we were not there to witness these events but the graces that have flowed from them have been manifested in achievements of Christianity from the apostolic community’s holding everything in common to the sister’s of Mother Teresa picking dying people off the streets this morning.
Although John did not witness the Kingdom in its fullness and could not appreciate the love of God that it brought, he was very aware of the effort that it demands. His constant message was repentance. We must change our sinful ways if we are to benefit from the Kingdom’s riches. John is the central figure of these middle weeks of Advent because he reminds us that the king who is to come will require sacrifice of his subjects as he transmits to them the fullness of life.
(Matthew 11:11-15)
When I suggested that the pious elderly Italian woman might enjoy some spiritual reading, she dropped her head in sadness. Then she confessed that she only went to school for a couple of years and never learned to read well. Most of the world is fortunate to have at least a basic education. We might not read much but we have been taught to read well enough. Likewise we are privileged to live in this era when one can count on growing old. Medicine and hygiene have inverted the average age of death over the last hundred years. In 1900 people died on the average at forty-seven years; in 2000, that number was seventy-four.
If we count our blessings in this way, we can understand why Jesus calls “the least in the kingdom of heaven” greater than John the Baptist. The “least in the kingdom” refers to his disciples, not limited to the inner twelve but all who follow him, including ourselves. We are blessed in a way that John wasn’t because we have experienced the fullness of the Kingdom in the death and resurrection of Jesus. Of course, we were not there to witness these events but the graces that have flowed from them have been manifested in achievements of Christianity from the apostolic community’s holding everything in common to the sister’s of Mother Teresa picking dying people off the streets this morning.
Although John did not witness the Kingdom in its fullness and could not appreciate the love of God that it brought, he was very aware of the effort that it demands. His constant message was repentance. We must change our sinful ways if we are to benefit from the Kingdom’s riches. John is the central figure of these middle weeks of Advent because he reminds us that the king who is to come will require sacrifice of his subjects as he transmits to them the fullness of life.
Homilette for December 12, 2007
Wednesday, The Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe
(Luke 1:39-48) – an alternate reading
It is no secret that most women want to have children. Although it is a small embarrassment, it is also true that women prefer to have male children. So Elizabeth’s greeting Mary with the words, “Most blessed are you,” should not be unexpected. Of course, only an inspired woman could have interpreted the jumping of the baby in her womb as the recognition of the presence of the Messiah in the womb of another. God has indeed blessed Mary enormously, but this fact alone does not make her what we believe her to be.
Later on in the gospel a woman calls out to Jesus, “Blessed is the womb that carried you and the breasts at which you nursed.” Jesus’ replies significantly, “Rather, blessed are those who hear the word of God and observe it” (Luke 11:27-28). Jesus is not slighting his mother here. He knows better than anyone how Mary has always acted graciously on God’s word. For this reason she hurries to visit her kinswoman Elizabeth when the angel informs her that the latter is with child. The inspired Elizabeth recognizes this truth as well when she tells Mary, “Blessed are you who believed that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled.”
We find Mary acting on the word of God when she meets the Indian Juan Diego hurrying to mass in Mexico City. The Virgin orders Juan Diego to tell the bishop that a church must be built on the site outside the city. Mary is displaying God’s love for the poor, defeated Indians by conveying the mandate that their conquerors assist the native people where they live. In the gospel reading, Mary praises God for this same compassion when she responds to Elizabeth, “...He has looked upon his handmaid’s lowliness.”
Poverty, experts say, is relative. Today’s poor, usually with food sufficiency, are better off and fewer in proportion than the poor of a century ago. Also, even the wealthy sometimes are worrisome and miserable – qualities that we associate with destitution. Having desires that leap past our means, we are all poor in a way. It is precisely here that God shows His compassion. He sends His son Jesus Christ not just to share our human nature but to lift us up to His divine one. Guadalupe’s message to Juan is meant for all of us. God loves us and acts to meet our needs.
(Luke 1:39-48) – an alternate reading
It is no secret that most women want to have children. Although it is a small embarrassment, it is also true that women prefer to have male children. So Elizabeth’s greeting Mary with the words, “Most blessed are you,” should not be unexpected. Of course, only an inspired woman could have interpreted the jumping of the baby in her womb as the recognition of the presence of the Messiah in the womb of another. God has indeed blessed Mary enormously, but this fact alone does not make her what we believe her to be.
Later on in the gospel a woman calls out to Jesus, “Blessed is the womb that carried you and the breasts at which you nursed.” Jesus’ replies significantly, “Rather, blessed are those who hear the word of God and observe it” (Luke 11:27-28). Jesus is not slighting his mother here. He knows better than anyone how Mary has always acted graciously on God’s word. For this reason she hurries to visit her kinswoman Elizabeth when the angel informs her that the latter is with child. The inspired Elizabeth recognizes this truth as well when she tells Mary, “Blessed are you who believed that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled.”
We find Mary acting on the word of God when she meets the Indian Juan Diego hurrying to mass in Mexico City. The Virgin orders Juan Diego to tell the bishop that a church must be built on the site outside the city. Mary is displaying God’s love for the poor, defeated Indians by conveying the mandate that their conquerors assist the native people where they live. In the gospel reading, Mary praises God for this same compassion when she responds to Elizabeth, “...He has looked upon his handmaid’s lowliness.”
Poverty, experts say, is relative. Today’s poor, usually with food sufficiency, are better off and fewer in proportion than the poor of a century ago. Also, even the wealthy sometimes are worrisome and miserable – qualities that we associate with destitution. Having desires that leap past our means, we are all poor in a way. It is precisely here that God shows His compassion. He sends His son Jesus Christ not just to share our human nature but to lift us up to His divine one. Guadalupe’s message to Juan is meant for all of us. God loves us and acts to meet our needs.
Homilette for Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Tuesday, II Week of Advent
(Isaiah 40:1-11, Matthew 18:12-14)
When God calls the prophet to comfort His people, He is referring to the many exiled Jews in Babylonia. After the Babylonians conquered the kingdom of Judah, they carried off a portion of the population to what is now eastern Iraq. There the people languished many years until God sent a liberator in the person of Cyrus of Persia.
Like the Jews in Babylon, forty-five million people today live outside their native areas because of violence or threats of violence, according to the United Nations. Fourteen million of these are bona fide refugees residing outside their native lands and twenty-one million are internally displaced persons dwelling away from their homes but still in their countries of origin. We may know refugee families in our neighborhoods who have a house and access to social services. Most displaced people are not so fortunate. Many reside in camps which provide little opportunity for productive lives.
Perhaps we know another kind of refugee. In wealthy countries like the United States many men, women and children live on the streets. Perhaps drugs alienated some of them from their families. Maybe not having grown up in a conducive environment allowed many of them minimal education so that many are virtually unemployable. These people too are included in God’s call of comfort.
Jesus answers God’s call when he brings comfort to the nations living under the captivity of sin. In the gospel today he instructs his disciples to search out still another kind of displaced person. He wants them to bring back Christians who have strayed from the practice of the faith. We too should assist former Catholics return to church by our example, prayer, and encouragement. Just as important we could support relief efforts to the many refugees and displaced persons in the world. And we should not neglect the street people in our communities often struggling to survive.
(Isaiah 40:1-11, Matthew 18:12-14)
When God calls the prophet to comfort His people, He is referring to the many exiled Jews in Babylonia. After the Babylonians conquered the kingdom of Judah, they carried off a portion of the population to what is now eastern Iraq. There the people languished many years until God sent a liberator in the person of Cyrus of Persia.
Like the Jews in Babylon, forty-five million people today live outside their native areas because of violence or threats of violence, according to the United Nations. Fourteen million of these are bona fide refugees residing outside their native lands and twenty-one million are internally displaced persons dwelling away from their homes but still in their countries of origin. We may know refugee families in our neighborhoods who have a house and access to social services. Most displaced people are not so fortunate. Many reside in camps which provide little opportunity for productive lives.
Perhaps we know another kind of refugee. In wealthy countries like the United States many men, women and children live on the streets. Perhaps drugs alienated some of them from their families. Maybe not having grown up in a conducive environment allowed many of them minimal education so that many are virtually unemployable. These people too are included in God’s call of comfort.
Jesus answers God’s call when he brings comfort to the nations living under the captivity of sin. In the gospel today he instructs his disciples to search out still another kind of displaced person. He wants them to bring back Christians who have strayed from the practice of the faith. We too should assist former Catholics return to church by our example, prayer, and encouragement. Just as important we could support relief efforts to the many refugees and displaced persons in the world. And we should not neglect the street people in our communities often struggling to survive.
Homilette for Monday, December 10, 2007
Monday, II Week of Advent
(Isaiah 35:1-10; Luke 5:17-26)
Once I went to a party where no liquor was served. I felt a little disappointed because I was looking forward to relaxing with a glass of wine or bottle of beer. Then I was told the motive of celebration. My friend Bill, as gracious a man and loving a father as one could find, was celebrating his sobriety. Fifteen years to the day, Bill gave up drinking and never looked back.
Of course, drinking in itself is not bad. Nor can alcoholics be accused of sin for every drink they take. As Alcoholics Anonymous teaches, compulsive drinking is a disease that diminishes moral responsibility. But at some point alcoholics must take responsibility for their actions under intoxication. When alcoholics repeatedly become careless on the job and abusive at home after drinking, they must stop committing what for them has become a serious sin. Then their refraining from sin becomes the source of their total healing.
In the gospel Jesus forgives the sin of the paralytic as the first step to his total healing. As Jesus hints, his saving of the man’s soul is an even greater claim to his being the Messiah than his healing of the man’s lameness. But to fulfill Isaiah’s prophecy of the Messiah as well, Jesus makes the lame man “leap like a stag.”
Jesus comes to save all of us from our sins. He brings forgiveness when we repent and confess our wrongdoing. As we turn away from our vices – whether obvious ones like drinking too much or more subtle ones like looking at others as objects of desire – Jesus will provide us the grace to live, like my friend Bill, gracious and loving lives.
(Isaiah 35:1-10; Luke 5:17-26)
Once I went to a party where no liquor was served. I felt a little disappointed because I was looking forward to relaxing with a glass of wine or bottle of beer. Then I was told the motive of celebration. My friend Bill, as gracious a man and loving a father as one could find, was celebrating his sobriety. Fifteen years to the day, Bill gave up drinking and never looked back.
Of course, drinking in itself is not bad. Nor can alcoholics be accused of sin for every drink they take. As Alcoholics Anonymous teaches, compulsive drinking is a disease that diminishes moral responsibility. But at some point alcoholics must take responsibility for their actions under intoxication. When alcoholics repeatedly become careless on the job and abusive at home after drinking, they must stop committing what for them has become a serious sin. Then their refraining from sin becomes the source of their total healing.
In the gospel Jesus forgives the sin of the paralytic as the first step to his total healing. As Jesus hints, his saving of the man’s soul is an even greater claim to his being the Messiah than his healing of the man’s lameness. But to fulfill Isaiah’s prophecy of the Messiah as well, Jesus makes the lame man “leap like a stag.”
Jesus comes to save all of us from our sins. He brings forgiveness when we repent and confess our wrongdoing. As we turn away from our vices – whether obvious ones like drinking too much or more subtle ones like looking at others as objects of desire – Jesus will provide us the grace to live, like my friend Bill, gracious and loving lives.
Homily for December 8, 2007
The Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary
(Luke 1:26-28)
What makes Mary so great? Is it that she has eyes of blue and wears dresses of gold? No, we know that these features are only products of our imagination and, in any case, accidentals. Then is it because Mary is the mother of Jesus that makes her stand out among all the people of history? Not really. Listen to how Jesus responds when someone cries out to him, “Blessed is the womb that carried you and the breasts at which you nursed.” “Rather,” Jesus responds, “blessed are those who hear the word of God and observe it.”
That’s it! Mary’s greatness lies precisely in her listening to the word of God and putting it into practice. In the gospel passage today, God sends Mary a message though the archangel Gabriel. Mary listens carefully asking questions of clarification. “Why does he call me ‘full of grace’?” she seems to be asking herself. “How can this be, since I have nor relations with a man?” she queries God’s messenger.
Even more importantly Mary acts on the word of God. She consents to what the angel says will happen to her. And in the verse following the present passage Mary sets out to visit her relative Elizabeth who, Gabriel tells her, is about to give birth.
How can she do otherwise, cynics among us might ask, if she herself was immaculately conceived? But Mary’s preservation from original sin is not completely different from our salvation from sin through Baptism. They both proceed from the merits of Jesus’ death and resurrection. She, like the rest of us, must choose whether or not she will do what God asks of her, whether or not she will follow her son Jesus.
Of course, she follows God’s will. By saying “yes” to the angel Mary becomes the first disciple of the New Testament. Our response to her fulfilling the word of God should not be so much praise of Mary as imitation of her. We too must carefully listen to the word of God and put it into practice. In these initial days of Advent the message is quite clear. We are to prepare for Christ by converting from the vices we indulge in. How do we sin? Perhaps by lying for convenience? Or maybe we look on others as inferiors made for our satisfaction? Or we may simply fail at generosity? Now is the time to rid ourselves of these bad habits.
We used to repeat frequently all the titles given to Mary through the centuries. “Seat of wisdom,” we called her, and “refuge for sinners.” We might add to the litany “first disciple.” She is Jesus’ first and, we can say, foremost disciple. Especially during Advent we would do well to imitate her by dispelling our vices. We would do well to dispel our vices.
(Luke 1:26-28)
What makes Mary so great? Is it that she has eyes of blue and wears dresses of gold? No, we know that these features are only products of our imagination and, in any case, accidentals. Then is it because Mary is the mother of Jesus that makes her stand out among all the people of history? Not really. Listen to how Jesus responds when someone cries out to him, “Blessed is the womb that carried you and the breasts at which you nursed.” “Rather,” Jesus responds, “blessed are those who hear the word of God and observe it.”
That’s it! Mary’s greatness lies precisely in her listening to the word of God and putting it into practice. In the gospel passage today, God sends Mary a message though the archangel Gabriel. Mary listens carefully asking questions of clarification. “Why does he call me ‘full of grace’?” she seems to be asking herself. “How can this be, since I have nor relations with a man?” she queries God’s messenger.
Even more importantly Mary acts on the word of God. She consents to what the angel says will happen to her. And in the verse following the present passage Mary sets out to visit her relative Elizabeth who, Gabriel tells her, is about to give birth.
How can she do otherwise, cynics among us might ask, if she herself was immaculately conceived? But Mary’s preservation from original sin is not completely different from our salvation from sin through Baptism. They both proceed from the merits of Jesus’ death and resurrection. She, like the rest of us, must choose whether or not she will do what God asks of her, whether or not she will follow her son Jesus.
Of course, she follows God’s will. By saying “yes” to the angel Mary becomes the first disciple of the New Testament. Our response to her fulfilling the word of God should not be so much praise of Mary as imitation of her. We too must carefully listen to the word of God and put it into practice. In these initial days of Advent the message is quite clear. We are to prepare for Christ by converting from the vices we indulge in. How do we sin? Perhaps by lying for convenience? Or maybe we look on others as inferiors made for our satisfaction? Or we may simply fail at generosity? Now is the time to rid ourselves of these bad habits.
We used to repeat frequently all the titles given to Mary through the centuries. “Seat of wisdom,” we called her, and “refuge for sinners.” We might add to the litany “first disciple.” She is Jesus’ first and, we can say, foremost disciple. Especially during Advent we would do well to imitate her by dispelling our vices. We would do well to dispel our vices.
Homilette for Friday, December 7, 2007
Friday, The Memorial of St. Ambrose
(Isaiah 29:17-24, Matthew 9:27-31)
In explaining why they think random evolution is an adequate theory for explaining the complexity of life, intelligent design advocates often point to an eye. They say that such an intricate organ is not likely to come about by chance no matter if it had a zillion years to develop. The eye’s sight is not only wonderful, it is also useful. For this reason the blind men of the gospel passage are obviously asking Jesus to allow them to see when they cry for pity.
The two men lack physical sight, but they possess faith which is another way of seeing. The men may have heard that Jesus is in the line of David, which is only a fact of heredity. More significantly, they believe that he is the son of David whom God has chosen to restore His people to the glory that Isaiah predicts in the first reading. He is the one who will open the ears of the deaf, restore sight to the blind, and bring release to prisoners. Jesus rewards the men’s faith in him with a super twenty-twenty vision. They see as well with their eyes as with their souls.
This Advent those of us who see well enough with our eyes might, like the blind men, beg Jesus for increased sight of faith. We want to look to him as the one who will save us from all that threatens us. Also, we need faith so that we might never be blind to the inviolable dignity of every human being. We do not want anger or prejudice that rises in us at times against individuals and groups to ruin our respect for them.
(Isaiah 29:17-24, Matthew 9:27-31)
In explaining why they think random evolution is an adequate theory for explaining the complexity of life, intelligent design advocates often point to an eye. They say that such an intricate organ is not likely to come about by chance no matter if it had a zillion years to develop. The eye’s sight is not only wonderful, it is also useful. For this reason the blind men of the gospel passage are obviously asking Jesus to allow them to see when they cry for pity.
The two men lack physical sight, but they possess faith which is another way of seeing. The men may have heard that Jesus is in the line of David, which is only a fact of heredity. More significantly, they believe that he is the son of David whom God has chosen to restore His people to the glory that Isaiah predicts in the first reading. He is the one who will open the ears of the deaf, restore sight to the blind, and bring release to prisoners. Jesus rewards the men’s faith in him with a super twenty-twenty vision. They see as well with their eyes as with their souls.
This Advent those of us who see well enough with our eyes might, like the blind men, beg Jesus for increased sight of faith. We want to look to him as the one who will save us from all that threatens us. Also, we need faith so that we might never be blind to the inviolable dignity of every human being. We do not want anger or prejudice that rises in us at times against individuals and groups to ruin our respect for them.
Homilette for Thursday, December 6, 2007
Thursday, I Week of Advent
(Matthew 5:21.24-27)
The gospel passage today ends Jesus’ famous “Sermon on the Mount.” The evangelist Matthew has pictured Jesus as the great lawgiver surpassing even Moses. The new morality which Jesus has just taught forms the basis of a righteous people who will shine as brightly as New York at night.
Jesus’ new morality judges the Old Law not so much defective as deficient. Simply trying to conform to the set of ideals prescribed in the Old Law, the people will always fall short of the mark. They need internal refortification even more than external norms if they are to standout as righteous. To supply what is lacking Jesus infuses us with the Holy Spirit’s compassionate love. We might compare the development to the building of modern skyscrapers. Previous ages knew multi-storied buildings but only with the use of a steel framework could the super-tall highrises that characterize the famous constructions of the twentieth century be built.
For some of us the word righteous does not settle well. We hear it as self-righteous which is not what Jesus has in mind. Once again, it is his Holy Spirit that Jesus infuses within us that provides the new righteousness. During Advent we turn up our antenna for opportunities to express this new righteousness emanating from within. There are always needy people to assist. There are always people surrounding us to encourage. We can be sure that our expressions of compassionate love in Advent will result in our overwhelming joy at the Lord’s coming.
(Matthew 5:21.24-27)
The gospel passage today ends Jesus’ famous “Sermon on the Mount.” The evangelist Matthew has pictured Jesus as the great lawgiver surpassing even Moses. The new morality which Jesus has just taught forms the basis of a righteous people who will shine as brightly as New York at night.
Jesus’ new morality judges the Old Law not so much defective as deficient. Simply trying to conform to the set of ideals prescribed in the Old Law, the people will always fall short of the mark. They need internal refortification even more than external norms if they are to standout as righteous. To supply what is lacking Jesus infuses us with the Holy Spirit’s compassionate love. We might compare the development to the building of modern skyscrapers. Previous ages knew multi-storied buildings but only with the use of a steel framework could the super-tall highrises that characterize the famous constructions of the twentieth century be built.
For some of us the word righteous does not settle well. We hear it as self-righteous which is not what Jesus has in mind. Once again, it is his Holy Spirit that Jesus infuses within us that provides the new righteousness. During Advent we turn up our antenna for opportunities to express this new righteousness emanating from within. There are always needy people to assist. There are always people surrounding us to encourage. We can be sure that our expressions of compassionate love in Advent will result in our overwhelming joy at the Lord’s coming.
Homilette for Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Wednesday, I Week of Advent
(Isaiah 25:6-10, Matthew 15:29-37)
Some day take note of the mass readings during ordinary time. You will almost always find divergent ideas in the first reading and the gospel. The two were not selected for their correspondence but to give us exposure to different expressions of Scripture.
Uncoordinated mass readings are not found during Advent, however. During this season the first reading always anticipates the gospel selection. Together they show how God’s promise to Israel was fulfilled with the coming of Christ. Today, for example, we hear from the prophet Isaiah how God will prepare a banquet for all nations which will exalt lowly Israel for keeping faith. In the gospel passage Jesus, symbolically at least, does just that. First, he assists those who are usually left out – the blind and the lame. And then he feeds the whole crowd large portions of bread and fish.
We can always count on God to keep His promises. Because Christ has promised to return with salvation for his faithful, we ready ourselves to receive him during the season of Advent. In a sense it is like an emergency drill. We prepare ourselves for an eventuality so that when it takes place, we will know what to do. But in the case of Advent the preparations themselves convey many blessings. Garrison Keillor tells a story that illustrates what I mean here. In the rural Minnesota town where he grew up, a zealous principal once assigned houses in town to all the schoolchildren from the country in case a snowstorm ever prohibited buses from taking them home. Keillor himself remembered the house to which he was assigned because of the statue of the Blessed Virgin on its front lawn. One afternoon with nothing to do, he went to meet the family of the house. He introduced himself to the woman at the door simply as her “snow child.” The woman asked him in and to sit down while she called her husband. In the meantime, she brought him cookies and milk.
As Minnesotans in winter are sure to get heavy snow, we can be sure of Christ’s eventual return in glory. Just like them we prepare for the day in the season of Advent. And again like the child Garrison Keillor, in our preparation we experience a moment of grace. Something happens that will be a sure sign of God’s love.
(Isaiah 25:6-10, Matthew 15:29-37)
Some day take note of the mass readings during ordinary time. You will almost always find divergent ideas in the first reading and the gospel. The two were not selected for their correspondence but to give us exposure to different expressions of Scripture.
Uncoordinated mass readings are not found during Advent, however. During this season the first reading always anticipates the gospel selection. Together they show how God’s promise to Israel was fulfilled with the coming of Christ. Today, for example, we hear from the prophet Isaiah how God will prepare a banquet for all nations which will exalt lowly Israel for keeping faith. In the gospel passage Jesus, symbolically at least, does just that. First, he assists those who are usually left out – the blind and the lame. And then he feeds the whole crowd large portions of bread and fish.
We can always count on God to keep His promises. Because Christ has promised to return with salvation for his faithful, we ready ourselves to receive him during the season of Advent. In a sense it is like an emergency drill. We prepare ourselves for an eventuality so that when it takes place, we will know what to do. But in the case of Advent the preparations themselves convey many blessings. Garrison Keillor tells a story that illustrates what I mean here. In the rural Minnesota town where he grew up, a zealous principal once assigned houses in town to all the schoolchildren from the country in case a snowstorm ever prohibited buses from taking them home. Keillor himself remembered the house to which he was assigned because of the statue of the Blessed Virgin on its front lawn. One afternoon with nothing to do, he went to meet the family of the house. He introduced himself to the woman at the door simply as her “snow child.” The woman asked him in and to sit down while she called her husband. In the meantime, she brought him cookies and milk.
As Minnesotans in winter are sure to get heavy snow, we can be sure of Christ’s eventual return in glory. Just like them we prepare for the day in the season of Advent. And again like the child Garrison Keillor, in our preparation we experience a moment of grace. Something happens that will be a sure sign of God’s love.
Homilette for Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Tuesday, I Week of Advent
(Isaiah 11:1-10, Luke 10:21-24)
The fact that secular historians at the time virtually ignored Jesus Christ causes a bit of embarrassment to Christians. After all, we must ask, how could people not take interest in such an extraordinary event as the resurrection?
However, beyond the first centuries of Christianity, the world did take notice. Historians began to measure time in two great epochs: “before Christ” (B.C.) and “in the year of the Lord,” which is the English translation of the Latin anno domini (A.D.). True, many writers today out of deference to non-Christians use “before the Common Era (B.C.E.) and “in the Common Era” (C.E.). But such a distinction only underscores the universal knowledge of Jesus Christ.
In the gospel today Jesus openly acknowledges his relationship with God. He is the son of the One who abides outside His own creation but maintains the dominant role in it. The learned, Jesus adds, cannot see this perhaps because the compassion that would allow anyone to offer his son to the world to be manhandled is beyond human reckoning. Jesus also intimates, however, that simple people do not notice the scandal and accept gratefully the presence of God’s anointed one in their midst.
Even though people know that time is generally portrayed with reference to Christ, some may not be aware of the unimaginable love which he came to reveal. Our role as Christians then is to testify to that love by our actions. Isaiah predicted the coming of Christ by a remarkable peace among natural enemies – wolves and lambs, lions and calves, cobras and babies. Our lives should witness to him by a similar goodwill to those whom others are leery of. We speak to the troubled and welcome the stranger. In these ways we let the world take notice of God’s love in Christ.
(Isaiah 11:1-10, Luke 10:21-24)
The fact that secular historians at the time virtually ignored Jesus Christ causes a bit of embarrassment to Christians. After all, we must ask, how could people not take interest in such an extraordinary event as the resurrection?
However, beyond the first centuries of Christianity, the world did take notice. Historians began to measure time in two great epochs: “before Christ” (B.C.) and “in the year of the Lord,” which is the English translation of the Latin anno domini (A.D.). True, many writers today out of deference to non-Christians use “before the Common Era (B.C.E.) and “in the Common Era” (C.E.). But such a distinction only underscores the universal knowledge of Jesus Christ.
In the gospel today Jesus openly acknowledges his relationship with God. He is the son of the One who abides outside His own creation but maintains the dominant role in it. The learned, Jesus adds, cannot see this perhaps because the compassion that would allow anyone to offer his son to the world to be manhandled is beyond human reckoning. Jesus also intimates, however, that simple people do not notice the scandal and accept gratefully the presence of God’s anointed one in their midst.
Even though people know that time is generally portrayed with reference to Christ, some may not be aware of the unimaginable love which he came to reveal. Our role as Christians then is to testify to that love by our actions. Isaiah predicted the coming of Christ by a remarkable peace among natural enemies – wolves and lambs, lions and calves, cobras and babies. Our lives should witness to him by a similar goodwill to those whom others are leery of. We speak to the troubled and welcome the stranger. In these ways we let the world take notice of God’s love in Christ.
Homilette for Monday, December 3, 2007
Monday, Memorial of St. Francis Xavier
(Isaiah 4:2-6, Psalm 122, Matthew 8:5-11)
During Advent we are to wait patiently and purposefully but also with anticipation for the coming of the Lord. Because many busy themselves in commerce and revelry, it is hard to appreciate the import of these adverbs.
We wait patiently by reflecting on the significance of Christ’s coming. He will show himself to be what we have claimed all along – the Son of God, the Creator of the universe, and the Lord of history. All nations will recognize him as “Lord” as the centurion does in the gospel passage today.
Of course, we want to be regarded as his faithful subjects. Thus, we purposefully follow his commands day-by-day. Isaiah the prophet envisions those who remain faithful to God’s law being distinguished as “holy” like the Lord Himself. Christians see that Law revised to become essentially the grace of the Holy Spirit enabling us to conform to Jesus’ inestimable charity. Certainly St. Francis Xavier demonstrated this Spirit enhanced love as he labored tirelessly for the salvation of souls.
Waiting with anticipation may seem to conflict with waiting patiently. After all, when we anticipate something, we are ready to see it come about now. But there is a congruency about the two terms. After twenty centuries it would only be natural for Christians to give up the wait. We might conclude that Jesus erred when he said he would return or that we have mistaken his intent. However, his “com(ing) again in glory” is an article of faith that we cannot dismiss. So we tune up our ears and enlarge our radar screens to discern how exactly Jesus comes among us today, although not yet in full splendor. This uplifting creates an anticipation in us much like the holy people ready to enter Jerusalem in the responsorial psalm.
(Isaiah 4:2-6, Psalm 122, Matthew 8:5-11)
During Advent we are to wait patiently and purposefully but also with anticipation for the coming of the Lord. Because many busy themselves in commerce and revelry, it is hard to appreciate the import of these adverbs.
We wait patiently by reflecting on the significance of Christ’s coming. He will show himself to be what we have claimed all along – the Son of God, the Creator of the universe, and the Lord of history. All nations will recognize him as “Lord” as the centurion does in the gospel passage today.
Of course, we want to be regarded as his faithful subjects. Thus, we purposefully follow his commands day-by-day. Isaiah the prophet envisions those who remain faithful to God’s law being distinguished as “holy” like the Lord Himself. Christians see that Law revised to become essentially the grace of the Holy Spirit enabling us to conform to Jesus’ inestimable charity. Certainly St. Francis Xavier demonstrated this Spirit enhanced love as he labored tirelessly for the salvation of souls.
Waiting with anticipation may seem to conflict with waiting patiently. After all, when we anticipate something, we are ready to see it come about now. But there is a congruency about the two terms. After twenty centuries it would only be natural for Christians to give up the wait. We might conclude that Jesus erred when he said he would return or that we have mistaken his intent. However, his “com(ing) again in glory” is an article of faith that we cannot dismiss. So we tune up our ears and enlarge our radar screens to discern how exactly Jesus comes among us today, although not yet in full splendor. This uplifting creates an anticipation in us much like the holy people ready to enter Jerusalem in the responsorial psalm.
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