Thursday of the Third Week of Advent
(Isaiah 54:1-10; Luke 7:24-30)
One of the most troubling occurrences to people on both sides of the abortion debate is the way politicians use the issue. Both pro-choice and pro-life advocates are sickened by candidates for public office waffling on the issue out of political expediency. Certainly people can change heart on any issue, but abortion politics defies parameters of true conversion. John the Baptist stands as the direct opposite of the ambitious politician.
In today’s gospel Jesus does not see John the Baptist as a reed bending in the wind because he sought to please people trying to justify their sins. To the contrary he counts him as a prophet because he holds people accountable to God’s law. Jesus assures as well that the Baptist a not court dandy wearing kingly gifts of fine robes. Rather he is content with the crudest of garments because he trusts in the Providence of the. The irony of the declarations about John is that despite all of his virtues as a prophet, Jesus does not compare him favorably with those who have experienced the Kingdom of God. The latter know of God’s tender mercy where John only views God’s righteous judgment.
John the Baptist is a saint worthy of our emulation as well as our invocation. Yet like all humans he was, at least at times, partially blind to the fullness of God’s goodness. We want to stand like him always making ourselves smaller so that Christ may become greater. But we also want to remember God’s mercy which exceeds His righteous judgment.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Memorial of Saint John of the Cross, priest and doctor of the Church
(Isaiah 54:1-10; Luke 7:24-30)
A phrase in the new translation of the Mass almost clangs against the ear. The Second Eucharistic Prayer begins in the usual mode of petition then it takes a sharp turn to descriptive language. “…by sending down your Spirit like the dewfall,” it says reminding the people to soak their passions and prepare themselves for the germination of a whole new world. A very similar image echoes in the reading from Isaiah.
The Lord God is declaring His will for the people. They have been is darkness, but now a new beginning has come. “Let justice descend,” God says, “…like dew from above.” Justice will purify the heart and mind of each person to create a society which attends to God’s will. It takes definitive shape in Jesus who opens the eyes of the rich swollen with greed and preaches hope to the poor trapped in envy.
Impeding the coming of justice, the commercialism of Christmas drives us into obsession with material gifts, whether we mostly give or take them. We still can pray that Christ penetrates our hearts like the dew. We need his grace to resist the preoccupation with presents and packaging and to aspire to due change in the social order.
(Isaiah 54:1-10; Luke 7:24-30)
A phrase in the new translation of the Mass almost clangs against the ear. The Second Eucharistic Prayer begins in the usual mode of petition then it takes a sharp turn to descriptive language. “…by sending down your Spirit like the dewfall,” it says reminding the people to soak their passions and prepare themselves for the germination of a whole new world. A very similar image echoes in the reading from Isaiah.
The Lord God is declaring His will for the people. They have been is darkness, but now a new beginning has come. “Let justice descend,” God says, “…like dew from above.” Justice will purify the heart and mind of each person to create a society which attends to God’s will. It takes definitive shape in Jesus who opens the eyes of the rich swollen with greed and preaches hope to the poor trapped in envy.
Impeding the coming of justice, the commercialism of Christmas drives us into obsession with material gifts, whether we mostly give or take them. We still can pray that Christ penetrates our hearts like the dew. We need his grace to resist the preoccupation with presents and packaging and to aspire to due change in the social order.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Memorial of Saint Lucy, virgin and martyr
(Zephaniah 3:1-2.9-13; Matthew 21:28-32)
Probably because her name suggests the word for light, those with eye problems invoke St. Lucy for assistance. Little about her is known with certainty, but there are pious stories of her eyes being plucked out and then restored. Fortuitously, her association with light draws out the meaning of today’s gospel.
Of the two sons in Jesus’ parable, the one who does the will of his father sees the light. The other son, thinking that paying lip service to his father’s wishes is enough, walks in darkness. The irony is that Jesus connects the son having the light with the suspects of his day – “tax collectors and prostitutes.” Conversely, he associates those who consider themselves pretty good with the son wallowing in darkness.
Conversion in this life never ends. Even if others consider us as good folk, we have to strive to love God more thoroughly and to consider ourselves more honestly. This is God’s will for us – what it means for us to “go out and work in the vineyard.”
(Zephaniah 3:1-2.9-13; Matthew 21:28-32)
Probably because her name suggests the word for light, those with eye problems invoke St. Lucy for assistance. Little about her is known with certainty, but there are pious stories of her eyes being plucked out and then restored. Fortuitously, her association with light draws out the meaning of today’s gospel.
Of the two sons in Jesus’ parable, the one who does the will of his father sees the light. The other son, thinking that paying lip service to his father’s wishes is enough, walks in darkness. The irony is that Jesus connects the son having the light with the suspects of his day – “tax collectors and prostitutes.” Conversely, he associates those who consider themselves pretty good with the son wallowing in darkness.
Conversion in this life never ends. Even if others consider us as good folk, we have to strive to love God more thoroughly and to consider ourselves more honestly. This is God’s will for us – what it means for us to “go out and work in the vineyard.”
Monday, December 12, 2011
Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe
(Zechariah 2:14-17; Luke 1:39-47)
On the wall of a diocesan pastoral center hangs a picture of Our Lady of Guadalupe. The other day an end table with a dish of roses was discreetly placed beneath that image. The table still may have impeded passage but nevertheless seemed quite appropriate during the novena of today’s feast. The roses it bears, we should understand, illustrate in part the significance of Guadalupe.
Roses growing abundantly out of season comprised the sign that corroborated Juan Diego’s story of having encountered the Mother of God. The rose itself, often considered the epitome of floral beauty, ably represents the Virgin. However, the roses’ symbolic value metamorphosed into the actual image of the Virgin as they fell from the Indian’s shirt. It is that image which has stirred the most discussion about the appearances.
Many characteristics of the image deserve commentary – the blocked out son, the color of the mantle and inner garment, the down-bent eyes reflecting the presence of Juan Diego. One such characteristic corresponds well with the gospel today in which Mary, having conceived by the Holy Spirit, visits her cousin Elizabeth. The black cord tied around the Virgin’s bosom indicates that she is carrying within her the Son of God whom she will present to the world with a critical message. In the gospel she will tell Elizabeth that God has lifted up the lowly while dismissing the arrogant. In Mexico she announces to both Indian and European – that is, to everyone -- that we must come together to honor God by creating a society based on human dignity.
(Zechariah 2:14-17; Luke 1:39-47)
On the wall of a diocesan pastoral center hangs a picture of Our Lady of Guadalupe. The other day an end table with a dish of roses was discreetly placed beneath that image. The table still may have impeded passage but nevertheless seemed quite appropriate during the novena of today’s feast. The roses it bears, we should understand, illustrate in part the significance of Guadalupe.
Roses growing abundantly out of season comprised the sign that corroborated Juan Diego’s story of having encountered the Mother of God. The rose itself, often considered the epitome of floral beauty, ably represents the Virgin. However, the roses’ symbolic value metamorphosed into the actual image of the Virgin as they fell from the Indian’s shirt. It is that image which has stirred the most discussion about the appearances.
Many characteristics of the image deserve commentary – the blocked out son, the color of the mantle and inner garment, the down-bent eyes reflecting the presence of Juan Diego. One such characteristic corresponds well with the gospel today in which Mary, having conceived by the Holy Spirit, visits her cousin Elizabeth. The black cord tied around the Virgin’s bosom indicates that she is carrying within her the Son of God whom she will present to the world with a critical message. In the gospel she will tell Elizabeth that God has lifted up the lowly while dismissing the arrogant. In Mexico she announces to both Indian and European – that is, to everyone -- that we must come together to honor God by creating a society based on human dignity.
Friday, December 9, 2011
Friday of the Second Week in Advent
(Isaiah 48:17-19; Matthew 11:16-19)
In an illustration of a Bible drawn by hand and illustrated with gold leaf, angels are announcing the birth of the Messiah to the shepherds around Bethlehem. Most of the shepherds listen to the message, but in the corner two -- a man and his maiden -- merrily dance away. 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 call for repentance. He says that it has been preached in varied tones – the sternness of John the Baptist and the festiveness of himself; still, most in his generation find objection to it. Could it be that the idea of a God who cares so much that He comes as a human is too much for these people to bear?
In two weeks we will be celebrating the feast of God’s coming. 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.
(Isaiah 48:17-19; Matthew 11:16-19)
In an illustration of a Bible drawn by hand and illustrated with gold leaf, angels are announcing the birth of the Messiah to the shepherds around Bethlehem. Most of the shepherds listen to the message, but in the corner two -- a man and his maiden -- merrily dance away. 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 call for repentance. He says that it has been preached in varied tones – the sternness of John the Baptist and the festiveness of himself; still, most in his generation find objection to it. Could it be that the idea of a God who cares so much that He comes as a human is too much for these people to bear?
In two weeks we will be celebrating the feast of God’s coming. 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.
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