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.
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.
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