Homily for Sunday, January 6 - Epiphany

Readings for Sunday, January 6 / Epiphany of the Lord:  Isaiah 60:1-6  |  Psalm 72  |  Ephesians 3:2-3, 5-6  |  Matthew 2:1-12

Christmas: Diligently Seeking - Homily for January 7

Readings for Sunday, January 7 / Epiphany of the Lord: Isaiah 60:1-6  |  Psalm 72  |  Ephesians 3:2-3, 5-6  |  Matthew 2:1-12

Today we imitate the Magi in seeking after the Lord, rejoicing when we find Him, and walking away changed from the encounter. 

Christmas: Listen for the 'but...' - Homily for January 8

Readings for Sunday, January 8 / Epiphany of the Lord: Isaiah 60:1-6  |  Psalm 72  |  Ephesians 3:2-3, 5-6  |  Matthew 2:1-12

Christmas: Marvelous Things - Homily for January 1

Readings for Sunday, January 1 / Mary, Mother of God: Nehemiah 6:22-27  |  Psalm 67  |  Galatians 4:4-7  |  Luke 2:16-21

Have y
ou ever thought about how weird the word "spoon" is? What about the word "fork" or "knife" or "plate" for that matter? Who was the first person who thought "spoon" was an adequate description for the object we know as a spoon? Have you ever looked at your fingertips, looked at the patterns to see how they work, to how they go? Interestingly enough, all my fingerprints point the same way except one; it's backwards. I don't understand it. Maybe all of you are the same. It's the way it is. 

Those are odd questions to ask, and I can tell it by the looks on your face, presuming I had a little too much to drink last night to celebrate New Year's. But I ask those questions because they are questions we don't normally ask, things we don't normally think about. We say the words spoon, knife, fork and plate and we use them frequently, daily. We use our fingertips all through the course of our day, but how often are we mindful of them? How often do we reflect on why we are the way we are, why things are what they are, and their names and descriptions? 

Whenever I came to our parish, a couple years ago now, one of the things I did was I went around and took pictures of a bunch of random things: inside the churches, outside the churches, cemeteries and so on and I posted it on Facebook and asked, "Do you know where these things are?" Some of you may remember that. There were of course some things that were rather notable: statues of St. Vincent, stain glass windows, and various other things around here and at St. Ann. But there was one thing in particular caused a lot of people confusion because they didn't know where exactly it was, they hadn't seen it, and yet they were confused because it was so beautiful, but they wanted to know where it was. It was a little icon over the door at the back of the church here. How often we walk to the back of the church and we look down to make sure we don't miss a step, but we fail to look up to see a beautiful image right over our heads. And how many times we simply just walked out of the church without being mindful of it. That and so many other things that are so normal to us - spoons, forks, fingertips and things around us in the world - that they become simply, ordinary things, and they lose some of the marvel that ought to be rightly theirs, some of the awe that should strike deeply within our hearts. 

We celebrate a feast this weekend entitled "Mary, Mother of God." It's a title that should shock us, and usually it doesn't. In the early Church, there were great fights, literal fights, over the title "Mother of God" in regards to Our Lady. There were different bishops who were fighting among one another saying that she's the Mother of God and others who were saying that it was way too strong of a word, that she should be called the mother of the human nature of Jesus - She gave Jesus flesh. But to say Mother of God, no, that's too much. There was great division in the early Church. Many reflections that ultimately came down to bring to us this title of Mary, Mother of God which highlights certainly the maternity of Mary, that she is in fact the mother of God, Jesus Himself. But more importantly it spoke to Jesus, who was not just a human person, but fully God. These were things that shocked them. 

Indeed the scriptures we heard this past weekend, this weekend, the one we'll hear next weekend, and the ones we'll hear through the course of daily Masses, they are all ones where people are shaken. You hear stories of Elizabeth, who though barren, bore a child, John the Baptist, and how his father, Zechariah, while serving in the temple, saw a vision from an angel, and was told that his son would be the forerunner of the Savior. There was the incredible of recounting of how Zechariah doubted the angel's word, and he was struck mute. But on the day his son was born and he said his son's name was John, he scratched it on paper, he was healed and able to speak fully once more. Angels appeared to Our Lady to announce the good news and to St. Joseph. Angels appeared to the shepherds. A great star in the sky appears to the three magi, the three kings. All of these stories are things of incredible events. Our Lady, reflecting on all of these things in her heart and rightly so. And the news spread all through the region. Almost every one of those accounts indicates that little phrase with it: and the news spread all through the region, throughout Galilee, through the whole land, etc. Everybody heard. 

And yet, as time went on, the good news became normal. Jesus, the Son of God, the Son of David, God With Us, over the course of 30 years quietly working with his father in the workshop became no longer the Son of God to the people around Him, but became Jesus, the son of the carpenter. Mary, the Mother of God, the virgin who bore God in her womb, became Mary, another of the ladies living in Nazareth. St. Joseph, the one who heard the angel speak and was the caretaker of the Mother of God and God Himself became Joseph, the carpenter. So many normal things. And in the course of their days that's how they lived; they lived the exact same life as every single person around them despite the fact that there was something you unique about each of them. The extraordinary was right there in the midst of the ordinary things of daily life. And so many people likely missed it. How many people came to the workshop with St. Joseph and failed to recognize that his son was God - He was just working on a table. How many people sat alongside Mary at the well getting water to go home to take care of things at the house failing to recognize that she had bore God in her womb. How many people? As we reflect upon that aspect of Nazareth, the quietness, the hidden of the extraordinary in the ordinary things of daily life, it's an invitation for us to see again, to have our eyes opened up once more. 

One of the things I appreciated whenever I was working for my parents in the grocery store was that in the store, we could get used to things. In your workplace, things become part of the normal condition, and then someone comes in and says, "Hey, have you every noticed that you need to work on such and such." "No. It's just part of other things. I never thought about that. Thank you." It takes an extra set of fresh eyes to help see again, and it's that that the Church brings to us today. We come and we rest in the midst of Nazareth, in the quietness of Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Mary the Mother of God. The Church simply says, "Have you noticed? Have you seen this? Have you let this speak to your heart lately?" To let it bring us to a state of awe, when we can't help but simply go, "Wow! How incredible!" 

This Christmas season has become a celebration that is very comfortable to us. We use the nativity scene, the magi and all the lights, the decoration, and all of these things. And it's good. But at the same time they are opportunities for us to see once again, see with new eyes, fresh eyes, the mystery of God before us. 

What I want to invite you to this week is to allow yourself to marvel at normal, even foolish, things. Marvel at them. Think about the word spoon for a while, look at your fingertips, think about the things of the Mass, the words we say each week. Look at your favorite scripture passage again and read it slowly with new eyes. Those prayers we offer that are so familiar to us, various prayers to saints, Our Lady, to Our Lord, various things we offer throughout the course of our days, to pause and say them differently and allow them to become fresh once more. To look at our churches and to see the beauties they possess and the ways in which they speak to us. Maybe it's our family and friends, people who we may take for granted, people are part of the normal scenery of our daily life, and to see the gift that they truly are to us. Opportunities for us to look around us, even in just the world, and to be in awed by God. Shock and wonder. Inspiration to be filled with the Holy Spirit and enjoy that moment of the things that God has done for us. 

As we allow ourselves to see incredible things in the course of our daily life, it becomes more and more easy for us to recognize that ordinary life is rather extraordinary because our Lord is with us. He has taken on our flesh, born of a virgin, lived among us, did the same things as you and I, and He comes to be with us even more still. Let us prayer for the grace of the Lord Jesus, through the intercession of Our Lady and St. Joseph, that we might be able to see with those new eyes the things that God desires to see with us and things He desires to show us, He who is "God With Us." 

Christmas: Reflecting on the Hidden - Homily for Christmas Day

Readings for Sunday, December 25 / Christmas Day: (4 Options are permitted; the homily did not
center on one set in particular)

Seeking Understanding

The Adoration of the Magi by Reubens

Readings for Sunday, January 3/ Epiphany Sunday:
Isaiah 60:1-6
Psalm 72
Ephesians 3:2-3, 5-6
Matthew 2:1-12

In many organizations there are certain thresholds that one meets along the way that are so different and transformative that simply recalling the word or phrase permits everyone who has endured it to relate and have an instant bond of fellowship. Pledge week for fraternities and sororities, basic training for military, the spreading of blood on the occasion of killing one’s first deer, etc. One of those thresholds in the college seminary at St. Ben’s is Fr. Augustine’s class because in that class you learned to write papers like never before one account of a philosophy paper being due every single class period. One of the other trademarks of Fr. Augustine’s class was that the students were the teachers. We were assigned a text and had to present it and field questions ourselves. The class I was assigned was a portion of a work from the atheist philosopher Fredrich Nietszche. In preparation for the class I sat down and read the work and got to the end and realized I didn’t understand a single thing he was saying. So I read it again with the same result. And again. And again. After about 6 or 7 times through the text and taking copious notes, drawing diagrams, thinking through it over and over again for hours, I finally had an insight into what he was saying and with it came the whole of the presentation. It was the concrete application of what we had learned in another course: that we learn by a three-fold process of experience, understanding, and judgment. In short, we experience something (the text, for instance) and then we seek to understand it (it can happen quickly or take years) and ultimately arrive at some moment of insight and are led to a judgment of the truth of the issue at hand.

What’s interesting is that the same process of experience-understanding-judgment is what the Christmas season provides for us. At Christmas we celebrate the birth of the little Lord Jesus and we honor Him in the commemoration of the Holy Family. Today we celebrate Epiphany, which literally means ‘revelation’ or ‘manifestation’ and we listen in upon the scene in which the Magi come in search of the new King of Israel. We travel spiritually with them from the east to Jerusalem – searching, seeking – and on to Bethlehem. The light of the star leads them to the Light of the world and they bow before Him, offering gifts and contemplating what would become of this King born in such a strange state. They pondered deeply in their hearts for years and it led them to that moment and they left changed. As Bishop Robert Barron says, ‘We always go away different when we encounter Jesus’ and so they went home by a different route. Next week we will celebrate the judgment in truth that Jesus is the Only-Begotten Son of God, but today we have the joy of seeking understanding.

We come here from different experiences this week and bring different gifts for the King. But we all still come. We are here and we are invited to ponder like Mary, to question with the Magi, to seek truth, and to see the Epiphany of God here in this Mass. Who is this Jesus? We may know the story of the Lord’s earthly life and ministry, but what of Him now? What is the Lord doing today? Where is He continuing to unfold His divine plan before our eyes? What is happening in this Mass where we encounter Him once more? How might we walk away changed today? What might the Lord speak to us in our hearts if we give Him a moment to speak while we listen?

May Our Lord grant us open eyes, ears, and hearts this day, that seeing Him now as through a veil, we might one day rejoice to see Him face to face in Heaven. Maranatha! Come, Lord Jesus!

The Joy of Imperfection

Readings for Sunday, December 27/ Holy Family Sunday:
1 Samuel 1:20-22, 24-28
Psalm 128
1 John 3:1-2, 21-24
Luke 2:41-52

Merry Christmas! Here I make my annual encouragement to keep those Christmas decorations up as we have only just begun the Christmas season. We have another two weeks of reflecting on the profound implications of the Incarnation of the Son of God. Today Mother Church celebrates the feast of Holy Family and invites us to reflection upon the mystery that the Son not only took on our humanity in flesh and blood, but that He even grew up in the midst of a family to be like us in all things but sin.

The Gospel we just heard about the finding of the Lord at the Temple is one of those that can be something of a sigh of relief for us all, and particularly for parents. We know that the Holy Family – the incarnate Son of God, the sinless ever Virgin Mary, and the pure and holy St. Joseph – is a model for families to look to and imitate, but I’ve heard from several people that they struggle with that model because it seems, well…perfect. The passage we just heard helps us to realize that while Jesus, Mary, & Joseph were sinless, that doesn’t mean that they were perfect. Sinless, but not perfect. I’m sure there were many nights when little baby Jesus didn’t sleep straight through the night (especially with that little drummer boy parumpapumpuming outside the door) and Mary and Joseph struggled to tend to His needs. I’m sure there were times when they were at their wits end trying to raise their son and discern what was best for Him. I bet that Mary and Joseph on at least a few occasions had little disagreements themselves that might have strained things a little bit. These and more remind us that thought they were sinless, they weren’t perfect.  

On Friday I was taking part in the annual tradition that my family often observes on Christmas Day of watching the movie A Christmas Story, the story of little Ralphie and his own experience of imperfect family life. As I sat there watching it I began to tie that experience with the story of the Holy Family and three things came to my mind and heart.

The first thing that struck me was ‘The Scott Farkus Incident’ when Ralphie beats up the bully that had been chasing he and his friends around the whole movie. As he was on top of the boy punching him relentlessly, a string of obscenities came out of his mouth that he didn’t foresee, intend, or have any ability to stop. The interesting thing about that is that it was exactly what his father would do at various points throughout the movie – sputtering and muttering a string of (more growls than actual words) obscenities. His father was an example that he followed to the ‘t’, although the example wasn’t really a good one. In contrast we have the Holy Family in the Gospel going up to offer the festival sacrifice in Jerusalem. They fact is that they, too, were setting an example. It was Jesus custom that only the father of the family had to go to Jerusalem to offer the sacrifice on behalf of the family, but St. Luke tells us that they all three were going up and that it was their normal custom to do so. Mary and Joseph were not only fulfilling obligations but were going above and beyond them, travelling together to celebrate their faith and to honor the Lord God. They were setting the example quite clearly for Jesus that ‘this is our faith and we are proud to profess it’ (as our baptismal rites remark).  They set the example and we can be sure that the child Jesus had learned the implications of it over the years.

The second things that struck me about the movie was when Ralphie went to help his dad change the car tire. What caught my ear was his response when his mom suggested that he go help: “Never had it even been suggested that I help my father with anything.” And as he hopped out of the car to help you could see the delight on his face and the enthusiasm in his voice. I know for myself that I can easily miss the immense good that can come from inviting others to do things along with us. Whether it’s children, grandchildren, godchildren, nieces, nephews, someone else’s kids, or even our peers or elders, there is a great gift in asking others to help with things. I can remember countless times where I was asked to help fix something or paint something at my house, knowing full well that my parents would have to go back and re-do it and clean up the mess I’d made trying to do it the first time. The bigger picture is that when we invite others to join with us, we honor their dignity and show them that they are loved and wanted. St. Joseph showed that same things to Jesus in this journey. It was custom also in the Jewish world that boys would become men in the eyes of the law at the age of 13 and would begin making journeys to the Temple soon themselves and so the fathers would begin to take them along when they were 11 or 12 to get used to the trip and introduce them to their faith. St. Joseph was essentially bringing Jesus along not only because Mary was coming but also to help him transition to manhood. I wonder what conversations were had. Did he teach him about the paths to take or places to stop along the way? Did they discuss the prayers that are prayed and what sacrifices are done and how? Did he explain why these things were done to begin with and help the boy to grasp the honor he was giving God? Surely the boy Jesus knew these and many other things, but it was at the invitation of Joseph that He began to be truly a son of the Father under the Law. How often do we do the same in our own lives?

The last point that this passage and the movie highlighted were that it is okay not to be perfect. When God took on flesh He did so not in a way that was sanitary and clean, away from our sinfulness and messiness. He was born in a place where there was no home to stay in and laid in a manger, a feeding trough for the animals. He came not to avoid the messiness of life but to walk with us in it and to sanctify us by it. We may not be sinless like the Holy Family, but we are called to do our best in the midst of the messiness that is this life. We are called to holiness not separated from our daily life, but in the course of it. And this the Holy Family teaches us. Jesus misunderstood, Mary and Joseph were frustrated and anxious. But at the end, they went home and all continue to grow in God’s grace and favor. May the Holy Family watch over us always and help us to be holy families to shine for others.

Papal Intentions for December 2015

Papal Intentions for December 2015

Universal Intention: That all may experience the mercy of God, who never tires of forgiving.

Mission Intention: That families, especially those who suffer, may find in the birth of Jesus a sign of certain hope.

Prayer for the Pope

V. Let us pray for Francis, our Pope.

R. May the Lord preserve him, give him life, 

and make him blessed upon the earth, 

and deliver him not up to the will of his enemies.

Our Father... Hail Mary...

O God, Shepherd and Ruler of all Thy faithful people, look mercifully upon Thy servant Francis, whom Thou hast chosen as shepherd to preside over Thy Church. Grant him, we beseech Thee, that by his word and example, he may edify those over whom he hath charge, so that together with the flock committed to him, may he attain everlasting life. 

Through Christ our Lord. 

Amen.

What's Under There?

Readings for Sunday, January 11/ Baptism of the Lord:
Isaiah 55:1-11
Isaiah 12:2-6
1 John 5:1-9
Mark 1:7-11

There’s something hardwired into us that wants to understand the unknown. I doubt that I’m the only one who, when presented with a gift bag with the nice paper sticking out the top, feels compelled to pull it aside to see if I might be able to get a glimpse of what lies inside before the time comes. And how many times did Christmas or birthdays come around and there we sat with a wrapped present in hand trying to figure out by size, shape, weight, and the sound it made, what was inside the box? And if we find out someone knows something we don’t we have to try to guess what it is or else have them tell us. It can happen in other ways too. One day at my first assignment I was visiting with the students at recess and we were having light saber wars (invisible, of course) and I was being teamed up when in the midst of the movement I looked down and there at my feet was a little boy, about 6 years old I’d say, laying on the ground trying to look up my cassock. I said to him, “That’s no acceptable. What are you doing?” and he replied, “I just wanted to see what was under there.” I talked to him for a moment and sent him off to play with the others.

In the course of the Christmas season we are given a generous gift from our heavenly Father who knows this desire of our heart to know the unknown and it comes in the form of revelations. This whole season is a series of revelations of ‘what’s under there’ in the Most Holy Trinity. To help us to understand who is this God? Who is this God who calls us to adore and worship Him? Who is this God who wants to save us? Who is this God that loves us? We see the revelation begin with the celebration of the Lord’s Nativity at Christmas, when we see that God has become man by taking up our lowly humanity and uniting it with His divinity. Days later we celebrate the Octave of Christmas and hear the gospel account of the circumcision of Christ, when this God-man becomes a member of a family of faith, a son of Abraham, a son of the Law. In the days to follow we hear of the Magi, shepherds, and countless others who come and bend the knee before this little infant whose birthday presents are no less than gold, frankincense and myrrh. These revelations bring us to today’s feast in the baptism of the Lord, marking the end of the Christmas season and the beginning of Ordinary Time. Each of these feasts reveal some new aspect about Jesus Christ and rightly beg the question made familiar by the hymn: What child is this?

St. Maximus of Turin noted that the baptism of the Lord rightly sits as the conclusion of the Christmas season as it helps to bring to fulfillment five particular aspects of this revelation of the Christ. At Christmas we behold a little baby, a son of man and child of Mary. Today, in the baptism, we behold one who is not only son of man, but also the Son of God. At Christmas we honor a child born of a virgin and today we honor a child begotten of the Father from all eternity. At Christmas we picture the Blessed Virgin holding closely to her breast the child wrapped in swaddling clothes. Today we begin to understand that he rest even more deeply in the embrace of the Father and Holy Spirit. At Christmas we hear how Mary quietly ponders these things in her heart. Today the Heavenly Father tears open the heavens and proclaims ‘You are my beloved Son!’ At Christmas Christ is adored by the Magi, shepherds, animals, and others. Today He is held up to be worship by all people in all places forever.

The baptism of the Lord marks the end of the 30-year period of preparation and waiting and the beginning of the ministry of the Christ. Today begins anew the ‘work’ of salvation, when Christ preaches, teaches, and acts in order to bring salvation to us, the people to whom He has joined Himself. This revelation brings us the place where He can invite us to the work of our salvation, when we can begin to hear the ‘come follow me’ once more and respond. As we celebrate the baptism of the Lord, we recognize that while it is primarily about Him, it also indirectly shows us something about ourselves because as we understand Christ better, we understand ourselves better.

When it comes down to it, Christ didn’t need to be baptized. He had no need of it. Zero. He was sinless, having nothing from which to repent or be cleansed of. So why the baptism? For you and for me. In our baptism we had water poured over us (or we were immersed in water) and it changed us and brought about many wonderful effects. In the baptism of the Lord, it was not Christ was who changed and transformed, but rather it was the water poured out that was changed. Because of His baptism, every drop of water on this earth has the power to cleanse us from out sins by baptism. His baptism was truly for us and as such helps us to grasp something of ourselves. How so?

Christ was revealed as the Son of God. In our baptism, the first effect is that sin is washed clean. We are sinless, Christ-like in our purity. Christ was revealed further to be the eternally begotten Son of the Father. When God removes something from us, He always fills the empty space up once more. When he cast out original sin from our hearts He put grace in its place – He put His life in us and we too become sons and daughters of the Father in Christ. Christ is shown to be eternally in perfect union with the Father and Spirit. And in our baptism we are mystically united to Jesus Christ and His body, the Church. We, too, are joined forever the God the Father and the Holy Spirit by our sonship. At His baptism, the Father tears open the heavens to speak to His Son. And how often has He torn open the heavens to come to me? To us? How many times have I been in need and my heavenly Father came to my, though I might have been unaware at the moment? And lastly, Christ was held up to be worshipped by all nations. And with our baptism we become His ambassadors. At our baptism we received a candle and the priest said, “Receive the Light of Christ. Parents and Godparents, this light is to be kept burning brightly.” We now have mission not of going out to have people worship us, but of going out that the presence of Christ might be spread through the whole world and He be worshipped by all people. Our mission is to bring Christ and be Christ to others, and to reverence and see Christ in them.

The baptism of the Lord is a magnificent feast. It is one more of the thousand attempts of God to show us His love for us in helping us to understand ‘what’s under there.’ As we conclude this Christmas season, I invite each of you to not let the contemplative spirit of Christmas pass. What great fruit could be seen if throughout this year we continue to reflect on that question ‘what child is this?’ because as we contemplate the answer to that question we will come every more deeply to understand Whose children we really are.

We All Like Stories

Readings for Sunday, January 4/ Epiphany:
Isaiah 60:1-6
Psalm 72:1-2, 7-8, 10-13
Ephesians 3:2-3, 5-6
Matthew 2:1-12

Everyone likes a good story. If you think about it, much of our lives revolve around stories. We’re drawn into stories as we watch movies and tv shows. We’re drawn into stories as we read our books and articles. I guarantee you that right now half of my facebook newsfeed is filled with stories: this inspiring story, that tragic one, this one that’s sure to make you cry (as if that’s gonna make me click on it!), and so on. Even our daily conversations are often simply telling stories to one another about what happened recently or in the past. Stories have a magical power that permits someone who is otherwise separate from a situation to have access to it – to be able to enter into a situation vicariously and have something of the same encounter.

The other day I was visiting with a friend who is applying to the seminary and he was asking about what to include in the biography and how long it had to be. I said ‘Just write your story. Length and such doesn’t really matter.’ After the conversation I began to reflect on my own journey in seminary and they many times that I was asked to share my story. It seemed like the second vocation as a seminarian because it seemed like every person I met or every group I encountered sooner or later got around to the question ‘Can you tell me/us your story?’ Over time my story would grow and evolve, not because the details were different, but because I understood things differently or sometimes would emphasize something that was specifically striking to me in that time or some knew insight I had recently realized. But in the midst of it all there was the invitation to reflect with others on the ways that God has shaped and guided my life to the point where I was then as a seminarian and where I was heading.

As we listen to our Gospel today we hear recounted to us the familiar story of the Magi, those three wise men from the East who come in search of the newborn king. The gospel narratives are necessarily short in this instance. This is because the writers were typically working with expensive scrolls of a certain length and so they had to be careful only to include what was most beneficial. But the vagueness of the Scriptures does make us wonder a little bit about the Magi. A few weeks ago we had our La Posada celebration as we went in search of the Holy Family, just like the Magi. To prepare for the journey we watched a little animated video narrated not from the perspective of Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John, but from that of the Magi. They used a little creative license, but it got me thinking about the ways God might have worked in their lives to bring them together. How they may have been all in separate places and converged as they each separately sought the Lord, a sign of unity in Christ. What were the things God used in their lives to prepare them for that blessed day of finding the Christ child? What were the stories of the things that happened along the way as they risked their lives and livelihood on this journey chasing after a star?

It’s interesting to ponder all of this, especially in light of the fact that the Church traditionally honors the Magi as saints. We can see part of the reasoning in this at the conclusion of today’s Gospel reading. It says that they received a message in a dream not to return to Herod, but that they “departed by another way.” And as Fr. Robert Barron has noted well: isn’t this always the case that when we meet Jesus, we walk away changed, by a different route as it were. In every encounter our heart is either softened like that of Peter or hardened like that of Judas. We always leave by a different route.

And what about us? What about you? If someone were to walk up to you today and ask you to tell them your story of faith, what would you say? If someone said to you ‘tell me the story of your vocation’ what would be the places that are significant? Where are the places where God has invited you to make a journey of faith chasing after your own star? Where are the places where you encountered the Lord and went off by a different route? What is your story?

It Doesn't Belong There

Readings for Christmas Masses:
Vigil Mass
Midnight Mass
Mass at Dawn
Mass during the Day

If you watch social media or late night TV you have likely seen or heard of the SNL skit that parodies the ‘annual Christmas trip to church’ in which we see persons such as Pastor Pat, whose weak sermon is rivaled only by his weak jokes and the weak laughter from the congregation, the organist who hits all the wrong notes, and the choir that sings all 44 verses of ‘O Come, O Come, Emmanuel’. I know some folks have gotten upset saying that we shouldn’t talk about the holidays in such a way, but if we can’t laugh at ourselves and our church’s quirkiness then I think we’re in trouble. If you’ve seen the video I’m sure you can relate to some of the things they joke about. But what struck me wasn’t so much the humorous aspect so much as the underlying kernel of truth that our contemporary world (especially my generation and younger) has a struggle connecting with the Church. The world is routinely pulling folks father and farther from the faith and that video spoke to me of that reality through the media of comedy. But what strikes me even more is that every year at Christmas, what the skit notes actually comes to pass: thousands upon thousands of people who don’t darken the doors of a church throughout the year come into these sacred places and enter into the celebration of Holy Mass. Every year churches fill back up, if only for a day, because there is something that draws us here. It’s more than just making our parents, spouse, or friends happy; it’s something deep within us that compels us to come once more.

The other day we were setting up here in the church and I was over playing with the nativity scene. This is actually a favorite pastime of mine. At my home parish in Denham Springs there was a large set of figurines from all sorts of gospel passages and a nice big landscape with houses and all sorts of things. In the midst of the many characters there were a great many little sheep. The lady who kept up with it was a good friend and so I used to go and move the sheep around. She’d walk by and find a sheep on a roof or in a tree. Or the man with arms outstretched in prayer was now holding a sheep with each arm. And she’d see it and just shake her head and say “Oh, Brent!” Well, that tendency came back and I picked up that little lamb next to St. Joseph and put him in the empty manger, turned around and said, “Behold, the lamb of God!” Those around me just laughed a bit and probably thought ‘what are we gonna do with this crazy little priest?’ I smiled and said, “I know. I know. He doesn’t belong there.” And so I put it back at the feet of St. Joseph and we continued working.

Later that evening I was sitting there praying with the empty manger and I began to think of how often I have tried to fill up the empty space in my heart with things that didn’t belong there. We all try it at some point and in some way, but it struck me the many ways it had taken shape for me. We can do it with our sins: I’ll commit this sin just one more time and then I’ll be happy…one more time…one more time… and no matter how many times it is, it’s always one more time because it never satisfies. We can do the same with possessions or wealth: many times I’ve bought books, CD’s, shirts, concert tickets and more, all in the hope that I’ll be filled even for a moment and yet come up empty. Sometimes it’s not sin or things but intangibles: if I can just get a little more honor, power, respect, etc. We can take these and so many things and make them our goals that we think will ultimately bring us happiness and every one of them falls short because the hole in our hearts can be filled by only one thing: the One True God.

The invitation for us, then, is to do our best to recognize what truly brings fulfillment and to seek after it. Though we’re often unaware, the manger scene speaks this message in the form of the ox and the ass. Tradition nativities include these two animals not because they were necessarily at the event itself but because of the words of the prophet Isaiah: “The ox knows its owner, and the ass its master’s crib; but Israel does not know, my people do not understand.” (1:3) The figures remind us that they knew where to find their fulfillment but broken humanity still wanders from place to place. G.K. Chesterton once wrote, “Every time a man knocks on a brothel door, he is really searching for God.” The wandering that we do, whether it leads to brothels or any number of other places, ultimately manifests the reality that we’re searching for the peace of Christ Jesus and if we stray 1001 times, filling our hearts with that which doesn’t satisfy, then 1001 times Christ comes to us and says, ‘I know what you’re looking for and that this isn’t it. Come to me and I will give you rest.’

This rest is often sought as we hear the words of God speaking through the psalmist: Be still and know that I am God (Psalm 46). But in light of the feast we celebrate, it might behoove us to make use of another translation of the original text from St. Jerome, one of the Early Church Fathers. His translation says not ‘Be still and know that I am God’ but rather ‘Be EMPTY and SEE that I am God.’ As we come today to celebrate the entry into our world of the God-Man Jesus Christ, let us set aside those things that we have so often sought as our fulfillment that we indeed might see that He is God.

Proud Father

Baptism of the Lord by Joachim Patenier

Readings for Sunday, January 12/ Baptism of the Lord:
Isaiah 42:1-4, 6-7
Psalm 29:1-4, 9-10
Acts 10:34-38
Matthew 3:13-17

Three and a half years ago at my diaconate ordination, I made a promise to God and the Church that I would live a life of celibate chastity, forsaking the good of married life and children. That promise, though, didn’t mean that I wasn’t called to be a father. In the heart of every man there is a calling to be a father and in the heart of every women there is a calling to be a mother. So while I may not be a father to a few biological children, I am a spiritual father to far more than a few. The title ‘Father’ isn’t just a nicety or to make me feel better about myself. It’s a daily reminder of who I am called to be to every person who speaks that title: a Father. I didn’t understand this reality of my spiritual paternity until after several months of my priestly ministry. It was in the midst of a youth group meeting that I spoke about going home and being the only one in the family without children and, before I could even finish my sentence, one of the youth responded, “Father, you have us!” Since that time I’ve thought much more concretely of my paternity, and necessarily so, of ‘my kids.’

One of my kids graduated from college a few weeks back and was blessed to get a job at Catholic Charities in Baton Rouge. I celebrated Mass for the CatholicLife TV station this past Thursday and her office is right around the corner from where I was so I stopped in for a bit and she showed me around her office, introduced me to some of her co-workers, and talked with me about some of the jobs she’ll be working on. It was such a joy to see how well she was doing and caused me to reflect on how she had grown as a young woman and as a daughter of God in the two short years that I’ve known her. Later that evening I sent her a little text message saying that I enjoyed visiting her at her office that day and that I was happy to see how well she was doing and would continue to do. A few minutes later she responded with a few words that have been resonating in my mind ever since then. She said, “Every now and then a daughter needs to hear her father is proud.”

This weekend we celebrate the feast of the Baptism of the Lord, that great mystery wherein the One who is perfect receives the baptismal washing for repentance. It wasn’t because He needed but because we needed it. The whole event shows us that reality. When John immersed the Lord in the water, rather than the water cleansing Christ, Christ cleansed the water to make it fitting for the sacrament of baptism. Rather that the ritual be effective on Christ, Christ made the ritual washing effective for us. The Heavens were opened not so that Jesus could know God but that we could come to know Him. He received the Spirit so that in time we could receive the Spirit. Christ heard those blessed words, “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased,” not so much for Himself but for us. And not just to that we could know that Christ is pleasing to the Father but that we are too.

All of us are sinners and we all fall short. We know our major faults and failures, our imperfections and those little sins that have bothered us for years. A few years back I was on retreat and I was talking with my director and going down a list of those faults and failures in my own life. I went down the litany saying, “I should do this….I should do that… I should not do this… I should not do that…” and in the middle of my litany the director looked at me and said, “Brent, stop shoulding all over yourself! It’s getting messy in here!” I was stunned when she said it, but what she reminded me of in that moment is that sometimes we take on expectations either from ourselves or others, usually with a good intention, and we allow so many of those faults and failures to weigh us down. We let the weight of not being perfect take away from the many good things that we have done and are doing in which the Father is well pleased. In a life where we are called to be perfect as our Heavenly Father is perfect, we can easily forget the fact that we are still loved even though we may fall short. Let us rejoice in the love that God has for us today and pause to reflect upon the many ways that He is pleased with us and be encouraged to press forward in light of that rather than in fear of failure. Because sometimes, we just need to know that our Father is proud.

Time Wasted Well

Readings for Sunday, January 5/ Epiphany Sunday:

Isaiah 60:1-6
Psalm 72:1-2,7-8,10-13
Ephesians 3:2-3,5-6
Matthew 2:1-12

The other night Fr. Vincent (the pastor) and I were talking about the feast of the Epiphany and the readings this weekend and between us we came up with around two dozen different homily ideas about the gifts, the Magi, Herod, and a whole list of aspects, but what has been resonating most in my heart was the star, on account of an article I read about Dr. Frederick Larson, who managed to take a computer program and chart out what the sky would have looked like 2000 years ago right around the time Jesus would have been born. What he found was interesting and I’d like to take a few moments to share it.

He noticed, looking from the east of Jerusalem where the Magi would have been, Jupiter, the brightest planet in the sky, moved back and forth in the sky in an elliptical motion that like a crown. This crown was directly above a star known as ‘Regulus’ or ‘King’. A king was being crowned. Interesting.

That ‘crowning of a king’ took place within the constellation ‘Leo’ or ‘The Lion’ and, as we heard in the scriptures tonight, the Messiah, was predicted to come from the tribe of Judah, which was illustrated as a Lion. This was widely known in Jewish culture, but the surrounding peoples also knew it since Jerusalem was a major city between Africa, Europe, and Asia where other cultures would interact with the Jewish people. So now there’s a king being crowned and it is taking place in Leo. Fascinating… but there’s more.

As we know from our astrological signs these days, the sign that follows Leo is Virgo, the Virgin. But this wasn’t just the ordinary appearance of Virgo. This time, at the feet of the Virgo constellation was a crescent moon, knowing in the culture of the day as the ‘birthing moon.’ So in addition to the ‘King’ being crowned in the Leo constellation we now have a birth in connection to a Virgin. All of these things make perfect sense to us, but at the time they were having to put all of this together to try to grasp the meaning. When they did, the immediately hopped on their camels and rode toward Jerusalem to greet the new king. This is where we picked up in the Gospel today, with the Magi going before King Herod inquiring where the newborn king was so they could do him homage. When they finally learn that the child was to be born in Bethlehem they prepare to head out.

Going back to Dr. Larson’s work, though, we also find something very interesting taking place. Fast-forwarding some months we see that Jupiter is not longer crowning Regulus but is now intersecting with the planet Venus, so the brightness of the two planets was then magnified to form an even brighter light in the sky which the Magi would never have seen before! And because the star was moving in the sky and they were moving as well in geographical location, the bright star seemed to stop in the sky. And from the perspective in Jerusalem, guess where it stopped directly above – Bethlehem. Just like it said in the Gospel. 

That seems absolutely incredible to me to think that all of those things were used so that the Magi would find Christ. God made the stars and planets, set them in motion, arranged for all of those things to happen as they did so that the Magi would be able to read the signs of the times and encounter God in the flesh. It shows the extreme love that God has for the Magi, and the reality is that He has the same love for each and every one of us. Who knows what great lengths God has gone to in making it possible for each of us to come to know Him in our lives today, to have encountered Him when we did for the first time and to continue that encounter daily.

To aid us in benefitting from the encounter and sometimes being able to have it in the first place, there are three things that the Magi can teach us to do better: waste time well, study, and follow.

I can waste time on anything under the sun. I have no shortage of things fighting for my attention, but the thing is to waste time well. Think about how much time we spent with our family and friends in recent weeks celebrating the holidays. Countless dinners, parties, visits, and simple gatherings where we just sat with loved ones and talked or watched Christmas movies and football games together. How much of that was really ‘productive time’ in the sense we normally think of it? When we’re enjoying a good gumbo with friends are we really able to say we’ve checked things off of our ‘to do’ list? No. It’s wasted time in a sense, unproductive time. And yet it was incredibly valuable time wasted because we strengthened our relationships or built new ones. And just the same with our relationship with the Lord. Many saints and holy people have spoken of prayer as time ‘wasted’ with God. It’s not productive. We’re not getting a list of things completed, but we are growing in faith, hope, and love. The Magi wasted a ton of time simply star-gazing, watching how things love around at night. For months and years they simply stared into the heavens. It wasn’t all for nothing, though. It led them to God. Are we willing to set aside time in order to simply waste it on the Lord? Are we willing to encounter Him?

The second thing the Magi can teach us is to study. They had to spend many hours grasping the movements of the heavenly bodies, surely much recourse to mapping the skies was had, and they had to have a working knowledge of these many things going on all at once so they could make sense of the signs they saw. Are we willing to study for the Lord? If they hadn’t studied the skies, they would have done exactly what Herod did and what most of us do: look up at the sky, remark about how pretty it is, look for a bit and then move on. They would have missed the signs that led them to God. There are so many things these days that can help us to grow in our faith and to understand the ways that God is speaking to us throughout our days and how to respond better. There are books and magazines, tv stations, online videos, blogs, and news sources galore to learn about our faith and to learn about the things of the world that can permit us to draw closer to God. We can stay at the surface level or we can commit to even just a small bit of reading and really deeper our understanding, love and appreciation for our faith in God and God Himself. The choice is ours. Are we willing to study and find God more easily?

The last thing is following. It’s hard to follow because that means we give up control. I know that in a very real way as a priest. You know that priests make several promises at their ordination to the priesthood and diaconate ordinations. At diaconate I made the promise of permanent celibate chastity and the commitment to praying the Liturgy of the Hours, the official prayer of the Church recited throughout the day. At priesthood I made the promise to imitate the mysteries that I celebrated and daily conform my life to Christ. All of those things I promised once. Guess what you have to promise twice – obedience! You have to make the promise at diaconate and again at priesthood ordination. It’s tough to follow when we want to lead. The Magi saw the signs in the sky and they simply left to follow after it. They didn’t know what they would find or how things would pan out in the end. They followed the invitation of God. Are we willing to do the same? Often the Lord invites us to things – to a particular act of charity towards another, to service in the Church or community, to a deepening of prayer and a call to set aside something to grow in holiness. Are we willing to follow or do we seek to excuse ourselves. There’s always an excuse, always a reason why I shouldn’t so this or that which the Lord may be inviting me to. But there is one reason why I should do it: Jesus Christ wants it. Are we willing to follow Christ or have we chosen our own way?

May God grant us the wisdom to see the many ways He speaks to us, that we may rejoice in those gifts and seeks to increase their number by our openness to waste time well, to study, and to follow always the Light that is Christ Jesus. Amen.