Homilies for December 2014

The Preaching of St. John the Baptist, by Alessandro Allori (1601-03).

Second Sunday of Advent—December 7, 2014

Make His Path Straight

Purpose: Advent is a time to prepare for Christmas. As St. John the Baptist gave a compelling witness to Christ by word and deed, so to the Christian is called to do the same.

Readings: Isaiah 40:1-5, 9-11; 2 Peter 3:8-14; Mark 1:1-8
http://usccb.org/bible/readings/120714.cfm

I wish I had what John the Baptist had! He makes his appearance at the very beginning of St. Marks’s Gospel. Announcing far and wide “prepare the way of the Lord.” Whatever it was about him, the Gospel tells us “all Judea and all the people of Jerusalem made their way to him.” Now, this may be figurative, but I think it is clear that John made an impact on the people who heard him.

We know from history there was excitement in the air in the Holy Land of the time. People were looking everywhere for the Messiah, expecting him to make his appearance at any moment. The political, social, and religious situation at the time was at fever pitch. St. John’s anointed words, no doubt, were eagerly received.

But what was it that made him particularly attractive? Was it his own story? Did people remember his birth? The Gospel tells us that that affair was talked about and thought out in Judea. St. Luke tells us that people asked, what would this child turn out to be? Was it his unusual habits? Eating locusts and wild honey, dressing in camel skins and shunning society to live in the deserted places? His peculiarities, no doubt, drew some people to have a look, to catch sight of this strange and unusual man.

It was much more than that. When people came to hear him, they were captivated. His words ran deep into the soul. When the people heard them, they were touched, so much so that they received his baptism. St. John’s witness was so radical, so different, so compelling, that whoever saw or heard him confessed their sins and returned home different.

Yet, in the midst of all this, a voice cries out; prepare the way of the Lord.

There is no end to eccentric characters in our world. St. John, however, was much more than an unusual character doing unusual things. By word and deed, he stood out from the crowd and made a huge impact. His way of life and the conviction of his preaching made people sit up and pay attention. They had no choice but to listen to him, regardless of whether they took his message to heart or not.

We, as believers in Jesus Christ, are called to do the exact same. Our word is also fearful. I wonder are we so different today? We live in an era that is marred by uncertainty and doubt. We live in a time of wars and rumors of wars, and year in, year out there appears more and more things to worry about. As the great hymn says, we seem to be “by a thousand snares surrounded.” The world of the first century and the world of the 21st don’t seem too far apart. We seem to be looking for what St. Peter says in the second reading, “the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a mighty roar, and the elements will be dissolved by fire, and the earth, and everything done on it, will be found out.” Sobering stuff.

In the doom of gloom, either explicit or implicit, the call of the Christian is to proclaim a new heaven and a new earth, by living “holy and saintly lives.” The world around us may not accept what we proclaim. The world around us may reject what we call holy. The world around us may be content to live in great darkness, but those of us who have been given the gift of faith must bravely and confidently cry out, “prepare the way of the Lord.”

What does our world need? It needs consolation. In the “decadent west,” we have more than we could ever want for our comfort and ease. While it is true that not everyone is backing luxury, the lure of wealth, and the attractions of “the world that is passing away,” it seems to be the final goal of so many. Like Israel in the desert, we have bread, but it fails to satisfy.

As we begin the season of Advent, the Church calls us to hear the words of Isaiah and John again. As witnesses of Jesus, our call is to point to God here and now. Advent prepares the way to Christmas, when Christ makes his home among us. We proclaim Christ by quiet conviction, firm hope, and inexhaustible charity. These things alone are compelling. These things alone proclaim, “Prepare the way of the Lord.” In hundreds of small ways between now and Christmas, we are called to be like St. John. The results may surprise us.

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Third Sunday of Advent—December 14, 2014

Christ in Our Midst

Purpose: Christ often stands in our midst, unknown to us. Drawing close to Christmas, we prepare a world and heart fit for the Son of God.

Readings: Isaiah 61:1-2A, 10-11; 1 Thessalonians 5:16-24; John 1:6-8, 19-28
http://usccb.org/bible/readings/121414.cfm

In the Gospel today, St. John says: “there stands among you—one unknown to you—the one who is coming after me.” Did you ever hear the story of the monastery long, long ago? Things were not going so well in the community. The monks argued. The prayers had become sloppy, the chant was hit-and-miss. Young men were no longer joining the community; those who entered did not stay. The place was a mess as the monks lost pride in their place, the garden was overgrown. People even stopped visiting—why would anyone travel to such a pitiful place? All Father Abbot could do was look on and watch his abbey die. He had to do something. Miles and miles away on the side of a mountain, there was a holy hermit. Father Abbot decided he would go and see him. So he got on his horse and off he went.

When he got to the hermit’s house, the holy man welcomed him. He asked how things were, and Abbot told him the tragic story of the once flourishing monastery. The hermit listened, and the Abbot spoke long into the night. When he had finished his tale of woe, the hermit looked directly at him and said, “Father Abbot. I am about to tell you one thing, you must listen to me, for I will say it once. You are not to ask me any questions, and in the same way, you are to tell your monks. Do you understand?” The Abbot agreed. “Dear Father. Christ is living in your Abbey!” The Abbot looked uncomprehendingly, but remembering his agreement, nodded and remained silent.

The next day he returned and called the monks. “Brethren, the holy hermit has given me a word for you. I will say it once, I will not repeat it, and you may not question me.” The monks waited with trepidation, and he told them, “Christ is living in our Abbey.” They looked at one another; what does that mean? Christ is living here? Did he mean actually here, like one of us? And they looked at each other, wondering which one was the Lord!

Later, they were in choir, and the choirmaster said to himself, “If he is here, we better sing as best as we can.” The chant got better. The brother in charge of the kitchen said to himself “If he is here, I better make sure he gets the best food.” The meals were prepared with care and attention. The monk in charge of the housekeeping said, “If he is here, we better tidy the place up!” He had the broken widows mended, the cloister was cleaned and painted. The brother in charge of the farm put the yard in order, and had the gates and fences mended. Monks who hadn’t been on friendly terms came to agreement, just in case their opponent was the Special Guest.

Bit by bit, the monastery changed as each monk served each other, as if he were the Lord—just in case. Soon their care became genuine affection and love. They helped each other, sang beautifully, and prayed with such intensity that news of the change went far and wide. People came back to visit. Young men were attracted to join the community, and the monastery began to flourish again.

Christ is in our very midst. In every moment of our lives, he presents himself to us as friend and stranger. In our work, we meet him, in school or in college, we meet him, on the bus and in the store, we meet him. This Advent, we pray that the Lord will open our minds and hearts, so, like the monks, we will make our lives and world a place where Christ is welcome.

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Fourth Sunday of Advent—December 21, 2014

The Angel of the Lord Declared unto Mary

Purpose: God never leaves us alone. Our faith in Jesus Christ proves this.

Readings: 2 Samuel 7:1-5, 8B-12, 14A, 16; Romans 16: 25-27; Luke 1:26-38
http://usccb.org/bible/readings/122114.cfm

The words that begin the Angelus prayer are striking. In a more traditional rendition of the scriptural words, the Angel of God declares to Mary. We don’t use that word very often. Historically, wars are declared, independence is declared, very important things, such as dogmas, are declared. In an airport, we can be asked if there is “anything to declare”—even that has an echo of drama about it. When declaration rears its head, everyone has to take notice. The Angel of the Lord declares to Mary. And rightly so, the news ranks up there with the most important. There is nothing small happening here at the moment of the Annunciation.

This is the Fourth Sunday of Advent. Over the last few weeks, we have heard of the contribution St. John the Baptist made in the run-up to Christ’s appearing. He has prepared the way of the Lord, and publically declared the Lamb of God who is in their midst. As we get closer and closer to the great celebration of the Lord’s birth, today we are brought to the very moment of the Incarnation, the moment on which the entirety of human history turns; the moment Word was made flesh.

So what happened? Art, music, and drama have all tried to get a handle on this moment. Countless renditions of the Ave Maria have been penned and sung over the years. Not a gallery of precious art is without a depiction of our Lady in quiet prayer, as Gabriel calls to chat. Sentiment, beauty, and peace are the hallmarks of these interpretations of the Annunciation. But is it so? Is that all there is to the moment of Emmanuel? Or like any other acts of creation, was this moment not a volcanic eruption of God’s grace in our world? It was indeed!

Sometimes we sanitize the story of our faith to such an extent, that the power of what actually happens can be diminished. The shed of Bethlehem becomes a stable, the animals are reduced to a glorified central heating system, negating the fact that the Lord God Almighty was born in a barn. So too with the Annunciation.

Did you notice how supremely alone Mary is? She gives her consent, and the Angel leaves. That’s how the story ends “and the Angel left her.” She has received the most important news ever, she is to be the Mother of God! To start with, she is to be a mother, with all the consequences that go with that, but the Mother of God? How could anyone take that in? Could we not even dare to say, this is unfair of God; that this is “a tall order” is certainly an understatement. At least, let the Angel stay.
But wait a minute. Think carefully about what has just happened. Mary is not alone. She was never alone, and no matter what is going to take place in the years and months ahead, she is not going to walk forsaken. The power of the Most High is upon her. He, just as on Sinai, will cover her with his shadow. But this time, God does not leave his presence in the form of the Law on stone, but in the flesh, as a baby in the womb. Yes, the Angel leaves. But who has come—God himself in her very body.

Sometimes, it is easy to feel alone. It is easy to feel that no one cares. In a world that is connected like never before by means of technology and communication, there is an epidemic of loneliness; 300 friends on Facebook, but no one to talk to. Even when we gather for Mass, it is easy to feel alone. The solitary confinement of the modern era can be a pervasive force, shutting down authentic community and human contact.

A believer is never alone. By the mystery of the Incarnation, God has united himself intimately with his children. As members of the Church, we are united with each other by bonds even greater than flesh and blood. This is what is declared!

As we come to Christmas, we can get sucked into the trap of the perfect Christmas, where everyone is happy, well-dressed, and fed—like all the commercials. For many, it is a lonely and hard time. Families are not perfect, our lives are not perfect. Hankering after the perfection the world proposes can leave us sad and profoundly lonely.

The Annunciation reminds us that we are never alone, even in the most seemingly difficult circumstances. God is with us. This is what we declare.

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The Nativity of the Lord (Christmas), Mass during the Night—December 25, 2014

Christmas: Heaven on Earth

Purpose: The “magic” of Christmas is grace; the “magic” of Christmas is Christ.

Readings: Isaiah 9:1-6; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-14
http://usccb.org/bible/readings/122514-night-mass.cfm

One hundred years ago tonight in the trenches of France, a most remarkable event took place. The First World War had been raging for five months. The soldiers who had been assured a quick victory, with the promise to be home by Christmas found themselves locked in stalemate, enemies facing one another across no-man’s-land. How it came about is still a matter of discussion, however on Christmas night 1914, during a ceasefire to mark the day, the combatants left their trenches and united with their enemies. Men who had been killing one another, the day before, exchanged gifts of chocolate and candies, they looked at one another’s family photos, sang songs, and even played football. It was never to happen again; in the future, arrangements were made to insure such fraternization with the enemy would not occur.

While this story is often told, it never loses its potency. In the horror of the trenches of the Western Front, the power of this holy night worked its grace. The secular world talks of the “magic” of Christmas. For us who believe, we know that we are not dealing with magic; we are not dealing with some sentimental concept of good cheer. No, tonight, we touch again the greatest event in the history of the universe; the Word made flesh, God among us, Emmanuel; the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Now, for many, the days and weeks leading to this night are marked by all kinds of preparations. All kinds of cooking and preparing take place. If you look at many of the commercials that appear on TV at this time of the year, Christmas is a time of super abundance, everyone is happy. The normality or difficulty of life is inoculated with a sedative of materialism, which, unfortunately, withers and dies with the Christmas Tree. Tomorrow, or at least on St. Stephen’s Day, the bluff of Christmas will be called, and the mistletoe and lights will seem as out of place as a wool coat in summer. Christmas will seem as far away as ever.

But this is not the case. How could it be? Tonight, we celebrate what is only the beginning. Tonight, we bask in the light of a star that shines in the darkness. We rejoice in a light that, no matter how dark the night may be, it can never be diminished. The magic of Christmas is not what we see in the commercials, it is something infinitely more precious and powerful; it is God himself.

Go back to the trenches: what happened that night? The wall of violence and hatred toppled as strangers were made welcome and mortal enemies became friends. In the hell of no-mans’-land, God pitched his tent and heaven’s reign broke loose.

On the first Christmas, God was born in a barn, as if to show to what depths he would descend for love of humanity. Tonight, the magic we celebrate is that no matter where we find ourselves in life, how far we may stray from God and one another, God is always with us. That is the Good News!

Life can be difficult. Our hopes and dreams can be dashed to pieces on the rocks. If you think over the events of the last year, how many people have had their hearts broken, by death, failure, betrayal? No matter how we decorate our homes and our streets, the reality of life is not erased. What we celebrate tonight is the fact that, in all this, God is present. Jesus makes his dwelling wherever his people are, wherever his people suffer. He did not come to take the Cross away, he came to carry it with us. Jesus did not come to take away our tears, but to look over Jerusalem and weep with us. And as he shares our life, he invites us to share his.

Tonight we look to the stars. We raise our gaze beyond the walls and horizons of our lives. We peer beyond the trenches and forests that bind us in. Even though these realities do not disappear, the light of the Star keeps us going forward, knowing that there is something much bigger at play.

Tonight, Christ is with us. Tonight, Christ comes to dwell in our stable. He does not look for luxury; all he needs is an open heart. When he is welcomed in, he lavishes his gifts on us. That is the magic of Christmas. That is heaven on earth.

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The Nativity of the Lord (Christmas), Mass at Dawn—December 25, 2014

The Promise Kept

Purpose: Like the shepherds, we run to Bethlehem to see what the angels spoke of: we return rejoicing, because it is exactly as we have been told.

Readings: Isaiah 62:11-12; Titus 3:4-7; Luke 2:15-20
http://usccb.org/bible/readings/122514-dawn-mass.cfm

The old Irish Christmas carol begins:

Good people all, this Christmas-time,
Consider well and bear in mind
What our good God for us has done,
In sending His beloved Son.
With Mary holy we should pray
To God with love this Christmas Day:
In Bethlehem upon that morn
There was a blessed Messiah born.

Christmas Day has come. The preparation is over, the fever of shopping has broken, stillness and silence greet the dawn of this new day; and what have we? Almost indiscernibly, today’s dawn brings something new. The world seems no different than it was yesterday, the sun rises, and this evening it will set. War and fear still threaten the earth. Tears still fall. Yet, there is something different today. Like the Shepherds, we must say, “let us go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened which the Lord has made known to us.”

Since childhood, we have been told of God’s love for us. We repeat St. John’s words, “God is love” over and over again; but do we really believe it? If we did, would it not change everything? Today, of all days, we have the perfect opportunity to discover that love. Sometimes, we think it’s all made up—too good to be true. In a world that is far from perfect, to paraphrase Harold Kushner, where bad things happen to good people, the reality of God’s goodness may seem remote.

What are we told? The Angel says, “Do not be afraid, I bring you news of great joy.”

Christmas morning is the promise of the new heaven and the new earth. This is the day longed for by prophets and sages of old. This Christmas morning is the beginning of the fulfilment of God’s promise to save his people.

The Birth of Jesus is not the end, it is the beginning of God’s eternal promise to save us; from despair and darkness, from sin and death. God’s power is made visible in a Little Baby, the most helpless of all creatures.

We gaze into the crib this day. We see the Baby and His Holy Mother. The ox and ass witness this great event as the dawn breaks. It is too beautiful to describe. Soon however, our gaze will change. Soon we will not look down and adore, but look up and adore, as that Little One opens his arms on the Cross. His mother will not kneel and sing, but will stand and weep. The witnesses on that day will shield their eyes at the sight of God’s Son suffering for all humanity. His first resting place is an animal’s stock, his final resting place, a cold tomb. The sun will set in sorrow. As this this new day rises, so will he! On that day, the Shepherds and Angels will rejoice to see the promises of God fulfilled. We will see!

Did you notice what happens at the end of the story today? When the Shepherds returned home after seeing, they were changed. They went home rejoicing! And why? “Because it was exactly as they had been told!” The tidings of great joy were not just for the Shepherds, they were to be shared with all the people. They were for you and for me.

In Bethlehem upon this morn, there is a blessed Messiah born.

In the cold light of this early morning, we look around. We gather with our families and our friends, we gather as the Church. Today, we witness that God’s Word is not, and never has been, empty. What God says, he means. Today, he says to you and me, do not be afraid! Do not be afraid of this world, do not be afraid of death, do not be afraid of the dark; for I have conquered it!

We will leave this place and return to our homes. Gifts will be opened, food and drink consumed. The holiday season will end. What we celebrate today will never end. When we do go from here, we, too, should be like the shepherds, dancing and singing for joy! When the Christmas decorations are back in their boxes, our hearts should still be giddy. When winter changes to spring, and spring to summer, the joy of this morning will always be in our hearts.

Jesus Christ is born. The Angels sing God’s praise, the Shepherds rejoice. This joy, to be shared by all the people, has reached our ears. We, too, sing and rejoice: and why, because it is exactly as we have been told!

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The Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph—December 28, 2014

The Holy Family

Purpose: The Holy Family is the model of faith; their struggles are like ours.

Readings: Sirach 3:2-6, 12-14 or Genesis 15:1-6; 21:1-3; Colossians 3:12-21 or Colossians 3:12-17 or Hebrews 11:8, 11-12, 17-19; Luke 2:22-40 or Luke 2:22, 39-40
http://usccb.org/bible/readings/122814.cfm

Fr. Patrick Peyton was an internationally known Irish priest who, in the 1940s and ’50s, led a Rosary Crusade. Addressing gatherings of hundreds and thousands of believers, he coined a phase that became well-known: the family that prays together stays together. Simple, but very profound: a family united in faith and prayer can stand up to all the pressure and strain life can throw at it. The family that prays together stays together.

On this Sunday after Christmas, we celebrate that unique and blessed family; the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Simultaneously ordinary and extraordinary, the Family of Nazareth is model of all Christian family life. In our era, there is much debate about the nature of the family. The secular world has no problem in defining and redefining its understanding of family life. For Christians, the family is at the heart of the Church, truly a jewel beyond price.

United in love and faith, the Holy Family faced the difficulties and challenges any other family faces.

What did the Holy Family pray for? On that long journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem for the census, what did they pray for? What was in Joseph’s mind as he looked at his bride, heavy with child? The only thing he knew for certain was that it had nothing to do with him. He had the comfort of a dream that everything would be okay, but this was far from the life he had planned for himself and Mary at their engagement. I can imagine him praying to God, placing his trust in the Lord, though not grasping fully the meaning of what happened, if grasping it at all.

What did the Holy Family pray for on Christmas Eve? Like many mothers and fathers throughout the world who have neither food not shelter for their little ones, did Mary and Joseph pour out their souls to God, begging for a place to rest, so that their Little One could be born? The Holy Family knew what it was like to suffer from want and rejection.

What did the Holy Family pray for? As the Magi departed, as the screams of the Holy Innocents were about to cry to the heavens, the Holy Family were forced to flee. This was no ordinary road trip, this was a matter of life and death. And where were they to go? To Egypt—not exactly home turf. On the journey down, did they ask God for his guidance and protection? They had no idea where they were going, all they could do was pray and trust, until, someday, they could return home.

What did the Holy Family pray for? On the way home from Jerusalem, when the boy Jesus went missing, what heartfelt prayers his blessed mother and St. Joseph must have offered. Dear God, please, may he be okay, please may we find him! Such prayers are offered a thousand times every day by parents frantically worried about their children. And when he was found, the prayers of thanksgiving to God for his deliverance must have overshadowed any upset or trauma that would naturally raise the hearts and minds of relieved parents.

As Jesus grew up, what did they pray for? Did Mary and Joseph see their boy grow in favor with God and men, and ask what is this child destined to be? If Joseph was alive to see Jesus leave on his earthly mission, what prayers did he and Mary offer as he began his preaching? I am sure they would have prayed the way any parents would, as their children leave the nest to face the vicissitudes of living alone.

In prayer, we can ask these questions and answer them as our imagination and faith tell us. The one thing we do know for certain, this extraordinary family faced the full gamut of experiences families always have, and always will. Will there be food on the table, will our children be okay?

The Holy Family went through everything your family and my family have gone through. No wonder, when we think of the theological maxim, “if it wasn’t assumed, it wasn’t redeemed.”

In this time of challenge when the family is under such pressure, let us look again at the Holy Family. Not in a gilded frame, not in a romantic and sanitized way, but, rather, through the lens of faith. By imagining what they prayed for, we can see the experience of the Holy Family of Nazareth is not a million miles from us. They saw it through, they kept the faith, they carried the Cross; and the world was Redeemed.