Sunday, December 31, 2017

Decir "sí", una vez y para siempre

Homilía: La Fiesta de la Sagrada Familia de Jesús, María, y José – Ciclo B
          Hace unos años, fui invitado a una cena para promover vocaciones al sacerdocio donde el arzobispo Pedro Sartain iba a hablar. En su charla, habló de su experiencia de dejar su diócesis natal de Memphis para convertirse en obispo de la diócesis de Little Rock, Arkansas; y luego de dejar la diócesis de Little Rock para la diócesis de Joliet en Illinois. Dijo que, en ambos casos, tenía que recordar el día de su ordenación como sacerdote. Dijo que se dio cuenta de que ese día (el día de su ordenación) había dicho "sí" a Dios y que este "sí" era abierto. En otras palabras, sabía que su "sí" era un "sí" para cualquier cosa que Dios, a través de su Iglesia, lo llamara a hacer en el futuro, incluso si eso lo alejara de su familia y su amado rebaño. Por lo tanto, aunque sintió una profunda tristeza por dejar su diócesis natal y luego su primera diócesis como obispo, él aceptó con confianza el llamado de la Iglesia; porque en su corazón, sabía que ya había dicho "sí" a todo eso el día de su ordenación al sacerdocio.
          En nuestras Escrituras de hoy, nos encontramos con otro hombre cuyo "sí" a Dios fue abierto, y que lo llevó a lugares y experiencias que nunca había soñado. Abraham (quien, inicialmente, fue llamado simplemente "Abram") fue un hombre bendecido por Dios y a quien Dios se reveló en visiones. Dios tenía un plan para Abraham: un plan que lo llevaría lejos de su tierra natal, con solo la vaga seguridad de la prosperidad cuando él llegara. Abraham puso su fe en Dios, quien se le había revelado a él, y partió de la tierra de Ur de los Caldeos por una tierra desconocida que iba a recibir como herencia.
          Esto, por supuesto, no solo lo afectó a él, sino a toda su familia. Su esposa, Sarah, y toda su familia (incluido su ganado) se mudarían con él; y la dificultad que soportaron durante el viaje fue grande. La fe de Abraham fue probada, al igual que su relación con su esposa, pero él perseveró y se estableció en la tierra que Dios le había prometido.
          Habiéndose establecido en la tierra que Dios le había prometido, Dios le prometió prosperidad y protección a Abraham. Abraham, sin embargo, cuestionó la promesa de Dios: “¿qué me vas a poder dar, puesto que voy a morir sin hijos?” Esto, porque estos pueblos antiguos aún no habían desarrollado la noción del alma inmortal y entonces creyeron que la "vida eterna" vino por tener hijos, en los que vivió su nombre y, por lo tanto, su patrimonio. Abraham no quería la prosperidad material; más bien, él quería la vida eterna. Por lo tanto, Dios haría otra promesa: la promesa de descendientes más numerosos que las estrellas en el cielo. /// Sin embargo, pasarían muchos años antes de que Dios cumpliera esta promesa y le otorgara a Abraham y a su esposa Sara un hijo. Esta fue otra prueba de la fe de Abraham: una prueba que, una vez más, afectó a toda su familia.
          Tan difícil como podría haber sido esta prueba, todavía habría una prueba final para Abraham. Después de cumplir su promesa de dar a Abraham un heredero, Dios llama a Abraham ofrecer a su hijo Isaac como sacrificio. En este punto, me imagino que Abraham sintió que ya estaba demasiado; y me imagino que tuvo que orar mucho sobre si debía obedecer o no. Al final, me imagino que pensó en la primera revelación que Dios le había devuelto en su tierra de Ur de los Caldeos. Imagino que miró ese primer "sí" que le había dado a Dios y luego se dio cuenta de que decir "no" ahora sería negar todas las bendiciones que había recibido al decir "sí" a todo lo que había recibido antes. En otras palabras, sabía que su primer "sí" era abierto: un sí no solo al primer mandamiento de Dios de dejar su tierra por una tierra desconocida para él, sino también a todo lo que vendría después; y entonces él dijo "sí" a Dios una vez más y trajo a su hijo para que se le ofreciera como un sacrificio. /// Nosotros, por supuesto, sabemos el resto de esta historia: que Dios impidió que Abraham completara el sacrificio y, como se relata la Carta a los Hebreos, Abraham "le fue devuelto Isaac" y con ello la promesa de una familia de innumerables descendientes.
          La Sagrada Familia de Jesús, María y José es también una familia cuya vida se vio afectada por un "sí" abierto por parte de sus miembros. María se enfrentó al arcángel Gabriel, quien se le apareció y le anunció el plan increíble de Dios para su vida. Ella, sin embargo, había hecho una consagración secreta de la virginidad a Dios y por lo tanto no podía comprender cómo sería posible concebir al niño que el ángel le estaba prometiendo. Sin embargo, ella confió en Dios y dijo "sí": un "sí" al que tendría que regresar una y otra vez a medida que se le revelaran más acerca de quién sería su hijo y las dificultades que enfrentaría (y las dificultades que enfrentaría a través de él)—revelaciones como la que recibió del profeta del Templo, Simeón.
          José, también, tendría que decir "sí" a un ángel, el que se le apareció en un sueño. Cuando descubrió que su esposa, supuestamente virgen, había quedado embarazada antes de haber consumado su matrimonio, decidió divorciarse de ella, porque, como nos dicen las Escrituras, era un hombre justo y eso era lo que exigía la Ley mosaica. Él también, sin embargo, confió en Dios y dijo "sí": un "sí" al que él también tendría que regresar en el futuro, como cuando se vio obligado a huir con su familia a Egipto para evitar la persecución de Herodes. Los "sís" de Jose y de María a Dios fueron abiertos. No podían prever todo lo que estos "sís" exigirían de ellos, sin embargo, confiaron en Dios y les dieron de todos modos; y para esto, ya han recibido su recompensa.
          Hasta el día de hoy, las familias fieles en la tierra de Abraham, Sara e Isaac—de Jesús, María y José—se encuentran en situaciones igualmente difíciles. Los cristianos en todo el Medio Oriente, y especialmente hoy en Siria e Irak, están siendo perseguidos duramente por extremistas religiosos y se ven obligados a enfrentar su "sí" que le han dado a Dios: el "sí" para poner su fe en la completa revelación de Dios de sí mismo en Jesucristo, el Hijo de Dios, que vino a salvarnos de nuestro pecado y a ganarnos la vida eterna. Se ven obligados a reconocer que sus "sí" fueron abiertos: porque ellos no podían prever que la resistencia de tal persecución se exigía de ellos.
         
          Créalo o no, tampoco estamos lejos de esta experiencia. Aunque en este país no estamos sujetos a las persecuciones violentas que enfrentan los cristianos en el Medio Oriente, sin embargo, estamos sufriendo una persecución no menos hostil. En lugar de confrontarnos con la amenaza de la muerte—forzándonos así a renovar nuestro "sí" a Dios o abandonarlo completamente—estamos siendo bombardeados por una cacofonía de confusión, en la que nuestra cultura moderna busca torcer las verdades de modo que ya no existen los absolutos y luego empujan los valores seculares que deben ser aceptados. El rechazo resulta en la persecución: no por ser cristiano, específicamente, sino por ser "intolerante" y "fanático". Nos ha confundido a muchos de nosotros que ya no estamos seguros de lo que hemos dicho "sí". Esta confusión ha trastornado a nuestras familias e incluso ha causado división dentro de ellas.
          Por lo tanto, mis hermanos y hermanas, esta fiesta de hoy nos llama de regreso a nuestro primer "sí": el "sí" que proclamamos en nuestro bautismo (o en nuestra confirmación, si solo éramos infantes en nuestro bautismo). El "sí" para confiar en Dios a través de su Hijo, Jesús. El "sí" para tener fe en su Iglesia, el Cuerpo de Cristo, quiénes somos, y quienes, guiados por el Espíritu Santo, no pueden errar al proporcionarnos claridad en medio de la confusión. Como Abraham y su familia, Sarah e Isaac, y como la Sagrada Familia de Jesús, María y José, y como el Arzobispo Sartain y los cristianos perseguidos en Siria e Irak, debemos recordar que nuestro "sí" nunca fue a una idea, sino a una persona—Jesús, nuestro Salvador—y a su promesa de que, a pesar de las dificultades que podamos enfrentar, no moriremos, sino que tendremos la vida eterna—es decir, la felicidad—para siempre con él en el cielo.
          Por lo tanto, recemos para que la Sagrada Familia guíe a nuestras familias a través de esta noche y a la luz del cumplimiento de las promesas de Dios: las promesas que se cumplen incluso aquí en esta Eucaristía cuando ofrecemos a Emmanuel, Dios con nosotros, de vuelta a él en este altar. Y recibamos el cumplimiento de estas promesas, cuando lo recibamos en la Sagrada Comunión, para que, fortalecidos por él, podamos salir a traer la luz de esta verdad a un mundo oscuro, tan desesperadamente en necesidad de ella.
Dado en la parroquia de Todos los Santos: Logansport, IN

31 de diciembre, 2017

Saying "yes", once and forever

Homily: The Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph – Cycle B
          A few years ago, I was invited to a vocations awareness dinner where Archbishop Peter Sartain, was scheduled to speak.  In his talk during that dinner, he spoke of his experience of leaving his home diocese of Memphis to become bishop of the diocese of Little Rock, Arkansas; and then of leaving the diocese of Little Rock for the diocese of Joliet.  He said that, in both cases, he had to hearken back to the day of his ordination as a priest.  He said that he realized that on that day (the day of his ordination) he had said “yes” to God and that this “yes” was open ended.  In other words, he knew that his “yes” was a “yes” for whatever God, through his Church, would call him to do in the future, even if that would move him away from family and his beloved flock.  Thus, although he felt deep sadness to leave his home diocese and then his first diocese as a bishop, he trustingly accepted the call of the Church; for in his heart, he knew that he had already said “yes” to it all on the day of his ordination to the priesthood.
          In our Scriptures today, we encounter another man whose “yes” to God was open-ended, and which took him to places and experiences he never dreamed of.  Abraham (who, initially, was called simply “Abram”) was a man blessed by God and to whom God revealed himself in visions.  God had a plan for Abraham: a plan that would take him far from his native land, with only the vague assurance of prosperity when he arrived.  Abraham placed his faith in God who had revealed himself to him and set out from the land of Ur of the Chaldeans for an unknown land that he was to receive as an inheritance.
          This, of course, not only affected him, but his whole household.  His wife, Sarah, and their entire household (including his livestock) would move with him; and the hardship that they endured throughout the journey was great.  Abraham’s faith was tested—as was his relationship with his wife—but he persevered and settled in the land that God had promised him.
          Having settled in the land that God had promised to him, God promised Abraham prosperity and protection.  Abraham, however, questioned God’s promise: asking “What good will your gifts be if I keep on being childless?”  You see, these ancient peoples had not yet developed the notion of the immortal soul and so they believed that “eternal life” came from having children, in which your name—and, thus, your heritage—lived on.  Abraham didn’t want material prosperity; rather, he wanted eternal life.  Thus, God would make another promise: the promise of descendents more numerous than the stars in the sky. /// It would be many years, however, before God would fulfill this promise and grant to Abraham and his wife Sarah a son.  This was another test of Abraham’s faith: a test that, once again, affected his whole family.
          As difficult as this test might have been, there would still be one final test for Abraham.  After fulfilling his promise to give Abraham an heir, God then calls Abraham to offer his son Isaac back to him as a sacrifice.  At this point, I imagine that Abraham felt like he had had enough; and I imagine that he had to pray long and hard about whether or not he should obey.  In the end, I imagine that he thought back to that first revelation that God had given to him back in his homeland of Ur of the Chaldeans.  I imagine that he looked to that first “yes” that he had given to God and then realized that, to say “no” now, would be to negate all of the blessings that he had received by saying “yes” to everything that had come before.  In other words, he knew that his first “yes” was an open-ended one: a yes not only to God’s first command to leave his land for a land unknown to him, but also to everything that would come after; and so he said “yes” to God once again and brought his son to be offered as a sacrifice to him. /// We, of course, know the rest of this story: that God stopped Abraham from completing the sacrifice and, as the Letter to the Hebrews relates, Abraham “received Isaac back” and with it the promise of a family of innumerable descendants.
          The Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph is also a family whose life was affected by an open-ended “yes” by its members.  Mary was confronted by the archangel Gabriel, who appeared to her and announced God’s incredible plan for her life.  She, however, had made a secret consecration of virginity to God and so could not comprehend how it would be possible for her to conceive the child that the angel was promising to her.  Nevertheless, she trusted in God and said “yes”: a “yes” to which she would have to return over and over again as more revelations would be made to her about who her son would be and the difficulties that he would face (and the difficulties that she would face through him)—revelations such as the one she received from the Temple prophet, Simeon.
          Joseph, too, would have to say “yes” to an angel—the one that appeared to him in a dream.  When he found that his supposedly virgin wife had become pregnant before they had consummated their marriage, he had decided to divorce her, because, as the Scriptures tell us, he was a righteous man and that was what the Mosaic Law demanded.  He, too, however, trusted in God and said “yes”: a “yes” to which he, too, would have to return in the future—such as when he was forced to flee with his family into Egypt to avoid Herod’s persecution.  His and Mary’s “yeses” to God were open-ended.  They could not foresee all that these “yeses” would demand of them, yet they trusted in God and gave them anyway; and for this, they have already received their reward.
          To this day, faithful families in the land of Abraham, Sarah, and Isaac—of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph—find themselves in similarly difficult situations.  Christians throughout the Middle East, and especially today in Syria and Iraq, are being severely persecuted by highly-organized religious extremists and they are being forced to face their “yes” that they had given to God: the “yes” to put their faith in God’s complete revelation of himself in Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who came to save us from our sin and to win for us eternal life.  They are being forced to acknowledge that their “yeses” were open-ended ones: for they could not foresee that the endurance of such persecution would be demanded of them.
          Believe it or not, we are not far from this experience, either.  Although we in this country are not subject to the violent persecutions that Christians are facing in the Middle East, we are, nonetheless, suffering from a persecution no less hostile.  Instead of confronting us with the threat of death—thus forcing us to renew our “yes” to God or to abandon it all together—we are being bombarded by a cacophony of confusion, in which our modern culture seeks to twist truths so that there are no longer absolutes and then push forward secular values which must be accepted.  Refusal results in persecution: not for being Christian, per se, but rather for being “intolerant” and “bigoted”.  It has so many of us confused that we’re not sure what we’ve said “yes” to, anymore.  This confusion has disrupted our families and has even caused division within them.
          Therefore, my brothers and sisters, this feast today is calling us back to our first “yes”: the “yes” that we proclaimed at our baptism (or at our confirmation, if we were only infants at our baptism).  The “yes” to trust in God through his Son, Jesus.  The “yes” to have faith in his Church, the Body of Christ, who we are, and who, guided by the Holy Spirit, cannot err to provide for us clarity in the midst of confusion.  Like Abraham and his family, Sarah and Isaac, and like the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, and like Archbishop Sartain and the persecuted Christians in Syria and Iraq, we must remember that our “yes” was never to an idea, but to a person—Jesus, our Savior—and to his promise that, in spite of whatever difficulties we might face, we will not die, but rather will have eternal life—that is, happiness—forever with him in heaven.  God is calling us today to put our faith in his promises: the promises that are fulfilled even here in this Eucharist as we offer Emmanuel, God with us, back to him on this altar.  Come, then, let us receive the fulfillment of these promises, so that, strengthened by them, we may go forth to bring the light of this truth to a dark world, so desperately in need of it.
          And let us pray that the Holy Family may guide our families through this night and into the light of the fulfillment of God’s promises; and thus go forward in faith: for our God, who alone has the power to save us, is trustworthy.  He has promised and he will do it.  Amen.  Alleluia!
Given at Saint Anne’s Parish: Monterrey, IN & Saint Ann’s Parish: Kewanna, IN
December 30th, 2017
Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN

December 31st, 2017

Thursday, December 28, 2017

Saved through our humanity: REJOICE!

Homily: Christmas (Vigil Mass) – Cycle B
          Believe it or not, this is now the sixth Christmas that I am celebrating with you all here at All Saints.  I have to say that I have been very blessed by my ministry here.  Of the many blessings, one unexpected blessing has been the richness that the cultural diversity of this community brings to my ministry.  Serving this community that combines Anglo and Latino cultures (as well as, to a lesser extent, Philippino, Vietnamese, and Burmese cultures among others) has given me a more profound experience of who we are as Church; and I know that many of you share that same appreciation.
          One of the things that I have noticed about Catholics here in the United States is that the way that we pray and worship is often very different than the way that Latinos and other cultures pray and worship.  Catholics in the United States have been heavily influenced by British Protestantism, in particular the British Puritans that first came and settled here in this land.  Protestants, inspired by teachers like Martin Luther, wanted to turn away from many of the medieval devotional practices that were common in the 16th century (such as: praying rosaries, lighting candles before images of the saints, making novenas, and the like—all with the understanding that “more, for the sake of more, is better” whenever you do it).
          These practices (from the outside, at least) seemed like they were aimed at “earning” grace from God.  Martin Luther knew that we cannot “earn” grace from God, but rather that God freely gives it, and so he began to teach a different style of prayer and worship that focused less on these outwardly extravagant devotional practices and more on inner, spiritual practices: namely, the reading of and meditating on the Scriptures and listening to the Word of God proclaimed and explained in assembly together.
          And we see this influence on United States Catholicism here today.  Anglo celebrations of the Mass are often rather subdued.  The people sit quietly, respond reservedly, and otherwise try not to make a lot of noise.  From where I sit, I sometimes feel like I have an audience who are watching my show, instead of a congregation who is actively participating in it.
          I don’t often feel that way when I’m celebrating a Mass in Spanish with Latinos.  With them there is still a very profound sense that the spiritual is inseparably intertwined with the physical.  For them, it is simply not enough to close one’s eyes, fold one’s hands, and pray: “Lord please guard my coming and my going, my front and my back”, but rather one must also bless himself with holy water both on the front and the back sides of his body.  No, it isn’t enough for them to come together to sing songs to Mary before a simple image set up in the corner of the church and at a reasonable hour, such as eight o’clock in the morning; rather, in order to show their devotion to Our Lady, they set up an elaborate “altar” in the front of church and get up in the middle of the night to dress to the nine’s (and their kids, too!) so that they can come to sing her songs long before the sunrise.  Here at Mass, they are generally much more animated than the Anglos.  Their singing and their responses are much more enthusiastic, in general (often with animated clapping along with the rhythm of the music).  The music, itself, is louder and the Mass has more energy, overall.
          Of course, all of this energy and devotional spirit, much like Martin Luther observed in medieval times, can become extreme.  While I was studying Spanish in Guatemala, I observed, particularly at pilgrimage sites, people causing themselves great physical pain as they entered to make their prayer at the shrine.  For example, they would walk on their knees from outside and into the shrine as a sign of their absolute faith that the favor for which they are pleading could be granted.  These are people of great faith, no doubt, but perhaps a reminder about Jesus’ words that we only need faith the size of a mustard seed in order to be able to move mountains, might occasionally be necessary for them.  Nevertheless, I can’t help but appreciate how the Latino culture (and cultures like theirs in many other places around the world) has maintained its sense that the physical is inseparably linked to the spiritual.
          In many ways, today we celebrate this connection.  Today we celebrate the fact that God, who is wholly other, pure spirit, and outside and above our senses, takes on human flesh and makes his dwelling among us.  In doing so, we also celebrate the reason that he came to us: to suffer and to die and to rise again to save us from our sins; for every moment of Jesus’ life here on earth was a preparation for his Passion which won for us our salvation.  This is why we don’t cover up the crucifixes in our Church when we celebrate Christmas: because without the crucifixion, Christmas wouldn’t mean much.
          That notwithstanding, as we celebrate today his coming among us, we emphasize an important truth: that by taking on a human body, with all of its physical limitations, God wanted us to know that we can experience him through our senses.  In fact, what God revealed to us through the incarnation of his Son, and through his Passion, Death, and Resurrection, was that it is precisely through our human bodies that he wishes to save us.
          In the first centuries of the Church, a bishop named Athanasius proposed this simple, but profound truth: that God became man, so that man could become God.  You see, before Jesus, it was possible to make an argument that the body wasn’t necessary to find salvation.  This is because God had not yet revealed fully his plan for the redemption of mankind.  Therefore, it was still possible to believe that God would simply redeem his people by the power of his Almighty Word.  After Jesus’ coming, however, it is no longer possible to make this kind of argument.  Rather, now that Jesus has won salvation for us precisely through his human obedience in the flesh—flesh just like yours and mine!—God’s will that mankind be saved through our human bodies is clear.  And this is good news!  Good news that we are obliged to share.
          Saint Augustine, writing in the fourth century, said this: “[Mankind,] you would have suffered eternal death, had he not been born in time.  Never would you have been freed from sinful flesh, had he not taken on himself the likeness of sinful flesh.  You would have suffered everlasting unhappiness, had it not been for this mercy.  You would never have returned to life, had he not shared your death.  You would have been lost if he had not hastened to your aid.  You would have perished, had he not come.
          “Let us then joyfully celebrate the coming of our salvation and redemption.  Let us celebrate the festive day on which he who is the great and eternal day came from the great and endless day of eternity into our own short day of time. …For what greater grace could God have made to dawn on us than to make his only Son become the son of man, so that a son of man might in his turn become a son of God?”
          My brothers and sisters, there are some people living around us who have not heard this good news (or, perhaps, have chosen to ignore it): that the All-Powerful God has taken on human flesh and come to save us so that we could become like him in our human flesh.  Just look around, none of them are here with us today.  Let us, then, be the ones who bring this message of great joy to them, making our feet “beautiful upon the mountain”, so that “all the ends of the earth will behold the salvation of our God”; the salvation that has been born to us this day.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – December 25th, 2017

Saturday, December 23, 2017

¡Abandona el miedo y celebra a Cristo!

Homilía: 4º Domingo del Adviento – Ciclo B
          Debido a la forma en que se arreglaron los matrimonios en la civilización antigua, generalmente se cree que María tenía alrededor de catorce o quince años cuando el ángel Gabriel se le apareció y le dijo que iba a estar embarazada. Piense por un momento, si es hombre o mujer, hasta cuando tenía catorce o quince años. Supongo que casi todos ustedes, aunque tal vez piensen que algún día podrían casarse, aún no habían sido prometidos en matrimonio; y ciertamente no enfrentaban la posibilidad de tener un bebé.
          No, probablemente estuviera viviendo como un adolescente ordinario: yendo a la escuela, practicando deportes o participando en clubes y actividades, y tal vez trabajando en un trabajo después de sus clases. "Ir en serio" o salir con alguien podría haber sido lo más cercano que estaba a la idea de casarse y tener un bebé. Imagine, entonces, cómo se habría sentido al ser prometido en matrimonio y luego recibir un mensaje de que tendría un bebé. Supongo que, para la mayoría de ustedes, esto hubiera sido una posibilidad bastante aterradora. Sin embargo, eso es lo que Mary tuvo que enfrentar cuando tenía, a lo sumo, quince años.
          Pero eso no fue todo; porque el ángel continuó diciendo que el niño que nacería de ella sería concebido por el Espíritu Santo y que sería un gran rey que reinará sobre el pueblo judío siempre. Hay que recordar que en esa época los romanos ocuparon la tierra que hoy conocemos como la Tierra Santa. Y en ese momento los romanos no veían con buenos ojos a todo aquel que tenía aspiraciones de ser un rey. El rey, para ellos, era César y cualquier otra persona que dice ser un rey era un revolucionario. Casi treinta y tres años después, veríamos lo que los romanos le haría a un hombre que fue acusado de ser un revolucionario cuando lo crucificaron a Jesús. María sabía esto y entonces la posibilidad de que este hijo (para el que ella no estaba lista, recuerda) sería aclamada como un rey en la línea de David, el gran rey judío, la habría asustado aún más.
          Además, María era virgen y, aunque era joven, sabía lo que les sucedía a las mujeres que fueron atrapadas siendo infieles a sus maridos (incluso si no habían comenzado a vivir juntas formalmente con sus maridos): ¡esas mujeres fueron asesinadas! Por lo tanto, la posibilidad de quedar embarazada por otra persona que no fuera José (su esposo, a quien se le había prometido)—algo que ella no podría ocultarle y que haría parecer que ella le había sido infiel—no solo corría el riesgo de arruinar su relación con él, ¡pero también poner su vida en peligro!
          Y así, sumado a la posibilidad de tener, a lo sumo, quince años y estar embarazada, Mary tuvo que enfrentar todo esto... ¿y qué dijo ella? Ella dijo: "Estoy confundida, pero tengo fe en Dios. Y entonces, si este mensaje es verdaderamente de Dios, cúmplase en mí lo que me has dicho”. María no permitió que todas las cosas malas que podían suceder la detuvieran de seguir la voluntad de Dios para su vida. Por el contrario, ella optó por decir "sí" porque creía que Dios era digno de confianza.
          Hoy, por supuesto, Dios no le está llamando para concebir un hijo por el Espíritu Santo, que será un líder polémico de las naciones, pero, si, él le está llamando a algo. Él le está llamando a tomar la responsabilidad de ser un cristiano en el mundo de hoy. Este llamado tiene sus propios peligros. El mundo es muy hostil a los valores que son esenciales a la condición del cristiano: piedad, templanza, castidad, modestia, pureza, obediencia y fidelidad (solo por nombrar algunos). Dios le está llamando a tomar esta responsabilidad: no sólo para usted mismo, sino para ser un testigo a los demás, también.
          El rey David reconoció que Dios había sido muy bueno con él, dándole la victoria sobre sus enemigos (antes de que fuera rey) y sobre los enemigos de su pueblo (como rey). Cuando se estableció para reinar sobre el pueblo de Judá, quiso hacer algo bueno por Dios: algo que le mostrara a Dios su aprecio por todo lo que Dios había hecho por él. Por lo tanto, propuso construir un templo para Dios: una casa apropiada para honrar la presencia de Dios entre ellos. A través del profeta Natán, sin embargo, Dios reveló que no tendría nada de eso. Dios no debía ser "pagado", si lo desea, por David, sino más bien él estaba determinado a cumplir su trabajo con él.
          Dios, por lo tanto, le reveló a David no solo que David no construiría una casa para él, sino que Dios convertiría a David en una casa: un reino que duraría para siempre. Al hacerlo, Dios reveló algo importante: que él, que había estado con David durante todas sus pruebas, se quedaría con él para continuar guiándolo y fortaleciéndolo, hasta sus días finales e incluso más allá de ellos, como lo guiaría y protegería los descendientes de David por generaciones venideras. En esto vemos la promesa de Dios a aquellos a quienes ha llamado: que si él nos llama a una responsabilidad, entonces podemos confiar en que él estará con nosotros mientras buscamos seguir su voluntad.
          Por supuesto, parte de ese apoyo viene en la forma de las personas que nos rodean aquí hoy. Al estar aquí, todos prometemos apoyarnos unos a otros a medida que tomamos la decisión de asumir la responsabilidad de ser cristianos en el mundo de hoy. Nuestra tarea es ayudarnos unos a otros a tomar las decisiones correctas en nuestras vidas y en nuestras relaciones y orar por los demás y con los demás, para que cada uno de nosotros tenga la mejor oportunidad de cumplir este llamado que Dios nos ha dado. Esto, en cierto sentido, es el trabajo que todos estamos tratando de renovar en nuestras vidas durante esta temporada de Adviento: que, mientras nos preparamos para celebrar la venida de nuestro Señor, lo hacemos asegurándonos de que estamos cumpliendo este llamado al discipulado cristiano que todos hemos recibido.
          A veces, sin embargo, la parte más difícil es decir "sí" a Dios. A los quince años, María pudo hacerlo porque creía que Dios era digno de confianza y porque él demostró que lo era. Mis hermanos y hermanas, sin importar la edad que tengamos hoy en día, Dios nos está pidiendo que digamos "sí" también. No temamos decir "sí" a Dios, porque él es un Padre que nos ama y que está muy orgulloso de nosotros; y nunca nos dejará solos. No tengamos miedo, porque con la ayuda de María y los santos, y con la ayuda de nuestros hermanos y hermanas aquí, cada uno de nosotros cumplirá la voluntad de Dios para nuestras vidas: nuestra felicidad. La felicidad que, en cierto sentido, experimentamos cuando celebramos la gran fiesta del nacimiento de Cristo, y que está disponible para nosotros cuando lo recibimos, incluso ahora, de este altar.
Dado en la parroquia Todos los Santos: Logansport, IN

24 de diciembre, 2017

Abandon fear and celebrate Christ!

Homily: 4th Sunday of Advent – Cycle B
          Because of the way that marriages were arranged in the Ancient Near East, it is generally believed that Mary was around fourteen or fifteen years old when the angel Gabriel appeared to her and told her that she was going to be pregnant.  Think back for a moment, whether you are male or female, to when you were fourteen or fifteen years old.  I’m guessing that almost all of you here, while perhaps thinking that you might someday get married, were not yet promised in marriage; and certainly were not facing the prospect of having a baby.
          No, you were probably living like ordinary teenagers: going to school, playing sports or being involved in clubs and activities, and maybe working a part-time job.  “Going steady” or dating someone might have been the closest you had gotten to the idea of marriage and having a baby.  Imagine, then what it would have felt like to have been promised in marriage and then to receive a message that you would have a baby.  I’m guessing that, for most of you this would have been quite a scary prospect.  Yet, that’s what Mary had to deal with when she was, at most, fifteen years old.
          But that wasn’t all, however, because the angel continued to say that the child that would be born from her would be conceived by the Holy Spirit and that he would be a great king that would rule over the Jewish people forever.  You have to remember that at that time the Romans occupied what we know today as the Holy Land.  And at the time the Romans did not look kindly on anyone who had aspirations of being a king.  The king, for them, was Caesar and anyone else claiming to be a king was a revolutionary.  About thirty-three years later, we would see what the Romans would do to a man who was accused of being a revolutionary when they crucified Jesus.  Mary knew this and so the prospect that this son—the one for whom she wasn’t ready, remember—would be hailed as a king in the line of David, the great Jewish king, would have frightened her even more.
          Still further, Mary was a virgin and, although young, she knew what happened to women who were caught being unfaithful to their husbands (even if they hadn’t begun to live together formally with their husbands): those women were killed!  Thus, the prospect of becoming pregnant by someone other than Joseph (her husband to whom she had been promised)—something that she wouldn’t be able to hide from him and which would make it appear that she had been unfaithful to him—not only ran the risk of ruining her relationship with him, but also put her life in jeopardy!
          And so, added to the prospect of being, at most, fifteen and pregnant, Mary had to face all of this… and what did she say?  She said, “I’m confused, but I have faith in God.  And so, if this message is truly from God, then let it be done to me according to your word.”  Mary did not let all of the bad things that could happen stop her from agreeing to follow God’s will for her life.  Rather, she chose to say “yes” because she believed that God was trustworthy.
          Today, of course, God is not calling any of you to conceive a child by the Holy Spirit who will be a controversial leader of nations; but he has called you.  He has called you to take responsibility to be a Christian in today’s world.  This calling, of course, has its own dangers.  The world is very hostile to the values that are essential to being a Christian: piety, temperance, chastity, modesty, purity, obedience, and faithfulness (just to name a few), and so it is a fearful thing to accept this calling.  Nevertheless, God has called each of you to take this responsibility (and it is a responsibility—that is, something that demands a response from you); and not just for yourself, but rather to be a witness to others, too.
          King David recognized that God had been very good to him, giving him victory over his enemies (before he was king) and over the enemies of his people.  As he settled to reign over the people of Judah, he wanted to do something good for God: something that would show God his appreciation for all that God had done for him.  Therefore, he proposed to build God a temple: a fitting house to honor God’s presence among them.  Through the prophet Nathan, however, God revealed that he would have nothing of it.  God was not to be “repaid”, if you will, by David, but rather determined to finish his work with him.
          God, therefore, revealed to David that not only would David not build a house for him, but that God would make David into a house: a kingdom that would last forever.  In doing so, God revealed something important: that he, who had been with David throughout all of his trials, would remain with him to continue to guide and strengthen him, until his final days and even beyond them, as he would guide and protect David’s descendants for generations to come.  In this we see God’s promise to those whom he has called: that if he calls us to a responsibility, then we can trust that he will be with us as we seek to follow his will.
          Of course, some of that support comes in the form of the people who surround us here today.  By being here, we are all promising to support each other as we make the choice to take responsibility for being a Christian in today’s world.  Our task is to help each other make the right choices in our lives and in our relationships and to pray for each other and with each other, so that each of us will have the best chance to fulfill this calling that God has given to us.  This, in a sense, is the work we are all trying to renew in our lives during this Advent season: that, as we prepare to celebrate the coming of our Lord, we do so by making sure that we are fulfilling this calling to Christian discipleship that we have all received.
          Sometimes, however, the hardest part is saying “yes” to God.  At fifteen years old, Mary was able to do so because she believed that God was trustworthy and because he proved that he was.  My brothers and sisters, no matter how old each of us is today, God is asking us to say “yes”, also.  Let us not be afraid to say “yes” to God, for he is a Father who loves us and who is very proud of us; and he will never leave us alone.  Let us not be afraid, because with the help of Mary and the saints, and with the help of our brothers and sisters here, each of us will fulfill God’s will for our lives: our happiness.  The happiness that, in some sense, we experience when we celebrate the great feast of Christ’s birth, and which is available to us when we receive him, even now, from this altar.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – December 23rd & 24th, 2017

Sunday, December 17, 2017

Rejoice that the Lord has saved us.

Homily: 3rd Sunday of Advent – Cycle B
          Gaudete!  Today the Church celebrates Gaudete Sunday.  “Gaudete”, because it is the Latin word for “Rejoice” and it happens to be the very first word that the Church proclaims in the Mass today.  The Mass, as it is written in Latin, begins with the Introit, or “Entrance Antiphon”, which is a short verse taken from the Bible that is said or sung (preferably sung).  The Church allows us to substitute a hymn for the antiphon and so we almost never hear it during Sunday Mass (a hymn with which everyone is familiar makes it easier to engage everyone in the Mass from the first moment); but in the official liturgical books, the Mass begins with the Introit.
          The Entrance Antiphon for the Third Sunday of Advent comes from Saint Paul’s letter to the Philippians and reads: Gaudete in Domino semper: iterum dico, Gaudete. Dominus enim prope est.  In English: “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice. Indeed, the Lord is near.”  Ever since the time of Pope Saint Gregory the Great in the sixth century this Sunday of Advent has been marked by this phrase which invites us to remember that this time of solemn preparation is also a time of joyful preparation; and it is the reason that we wear a more festive color in our vestments and we light a rose colored candle.  All of this focusing on “rejoice”, however, begs the question: “In this season of joy, in what do we rejoice?”
          For many of us, I suppose that the answer to this question is simple: We rejoice in the coming celebration of the birthday of Christ and that, with it, comes joy-filled time with family and friends following traditions of celebration that connect us to generations of loved ones.  For some of us, perhaps, we rejoice that all of our presents for loved ones have been bought and wrapped and we can spend one last week truly enjoying the season (perhaps, however, that’s only a few of us).  Maybe we rejoice in another year of good health, good work, growth in our families, or accomplishments in our personal lives.  These, of course, are all worthy things in which to rejoice (to greater and lesser degrees).  Nevertheless, not everyone is able to rejoice in these things at this time of year; and so none of these can be the reason why the Church calls us to rejoice.  This, therefore, begs the further question: “In this season of joy, in what should we rejoice?”
          For the prophet Isaiah, the answer was simple.  He had been part of God’s chosen people who had suffered in exile for years.  He had declared to the people how their sinfulness, their disregard for God and his commandments, had led to their exile as a sign that God had taken away his protection from them and that his covenant with them had been broken.  Now, however, Isaiah was able to declare joyful news: that the time of punishment was at an end.  In his own words: “The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring glad tidings to the poor, to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to captives and release to the prisoners, to announce a year of favor from the Lord and a day of vindication by our God.”  Everyone likes to be the bearer of good news, right?  So, no wonder why Isaiah would rejoice.  Notice, however, that this is not the reason why he rejoices.
          In the following verse we hear: “I rejoice heartily in the Lord, in my God is the joy of my soul; for he has clothed me with a robe of salvation and wrapped me in a mantle of justice, like a bridegroom adorned with a diadem, like a bride bedecked with her jewels.”  Isaiah proclaimed this joyful news: that Israel’s exile was at an end.  He rejoiced not in the news, however, but in what God had done for him: that, in declaring this good news, Isaiah is declaring that God has brought salvation to him and to his people—and, thus, that he has forgiven their sins—so that they might be restored to right relationship with God; which, for them, meant eternal life.  Now this is something in which all of us can rejoice, right?
          All of us here: those who have been baptized, and even, in a way, those who are seeking baptism, have been “clothed in a robe of salvation” through faith and, thus, it is in this that we must “rejoice heartily in the Lord”.  The Third Sunday of Advent rightly turns our focus from our anticipation of Jesus’ Second Coming to the celebration of his First Coming on the day of his birth (for it is now readily at hand).  We “rejoice”, however, not just because Jesus was born to us (even though the coming of God in human flesh would be reason enough to rejoice!), but rather because of what his birth meant for us.  It meant not just that God was going to walk among us, like one of us, but that our salvation was finally at hand!  And that the long reign of death—and sin that causes death—is now at an end: for God has come to save us!
          My brothers and sisters, if the thing in which we rejoice during this season of joy is not that the birth of Christ was the in-breaking of salvation into the world, then we’ll never understand what Saint Paul says in his letter to the Thessalonians: “Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing. In all circumstances give thanks…”  How could we possibly “rejoice, pray, and give thanks always” in this world that is still filled with so much sadness and pain unless our rejoicing was for something that transcends this world of darkness, which has the power to protect us within it and to lift us up from it?  The answer, of course, is that we can’t.  And so, the Church reminds us: Gaudete in Domino semper: “Rejoice in the Lord always…”
          Friends, if you struggle to “rejoice in the Lord”, don’t worry.  Perhaps, like the priests, Levites, and Pharisees who came out to see John the Baptist you are looking for the Lord in great signs and powerful show.  Or, perhaps, you’ve just let yourself get caught up in the materialism and commercialism of secular Christmas.  If so, allow me to remind you that the Lord in whom you will find a lasting joy has come, yes, and is coming again, yes, but is also already among us; in an appearance, perhaps, that we don’t recognize: the bread and cup that we receive from this altar.  Let us, then, turn to him here, in this humble presence, during this last, full week of Advent, and meet him again; so that, when we celebrate his birth, this joy of salvation might be in us and our joy might be complete.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – December 17th, 2017

Sunday, December 10, 2017

Awaken your drowsy heart!

Homily: 2nd Sunday of Advent – Cycle B
          Last Saturday marked the end of the liturgical year.  In the Gospel reading for the Mass of the day on that last day of the Church year, Jesus is quoted as saying, “Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy from carousing and drunkenness and the anxieties of daily life….” (Luke 21:34) It’s no accident that that particular reading is read on the last day of the Church liturgical year.  After 34 weeks of Ordinary Time—when we focus on growing spiritually and morally in the context of our daily lives—the Church realizes that most of us probably do have hearts that have “become drowsy”—perhaps from drunkenness and carousing, but most likely from the anxieties of daily life.  And so there is a certain genius on the Church’s part to place that reading right on the cusp of the new liturgical year.  It reminds us that perhaps our hearts have become drowsy and then it ushers us right into Advent, a season designed to help “wake us up.”
          Our first reading today from the prophet Isaiah is a beautiful reading—full of awe and wonder.  While [Name] did a great job reading it, I think it would require a method actor to really convey the joy-filled expectation that these words express.  Listen to some of these again:
Comfort, give comfort to my people,
 says your God.
 Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her
 that her service is at an end,
her guilt is expiated…
And still further:
…Go up on to a high mountain,
 Zion, herald of glad tidings;
 cry out at the top of your voice,
 Jerusalem, herald of good news!
 Fear not to cry out
 and say to the cities of Judah:
 Here is your God!

These are words of great joy and expectation and are simply wonderful to ponder.  Perhaps, however, we are unable to see the joy that these words convey, at least not in our current situation.  Perhaps, even after one week of Advent, our hearts are still drowsy—tired, weary, and numb—from the anxieties of our daily lives.  Of course, one need not look farther than the newspaper to understand why: violence and drug use continue to escalate in our cities and neighborhoods, jobs continue to be scarce and an economic recovery continues to be lethargic, national politics remains, it seems, disconnected from the daily struggles of individuals and families, natural disasters, like the hurricanes that ravaged south Texas, Puerto Rico and other Caribbean islands, and the wildfires that are consuming large swaths of inhabited land in California, continue to afflict us, and there are countless other reasons as well.  And so no, it’s not surprising that our hearts may have become drowsy and we are unable to relate to the awe and wonder expressed in today’s first reading.
          Yet, when we listen to the Gospel reading, we see that the Jews living during Jesus’ time also seemed to be struggling with the same problem.  Now, the Gospel of Mark is notoriously slim on narrative details and so we’ll have to read between the lines a little bit to see that their hearts were also drowsy and in need of awakening.  His Gospel begins by quoting our reading from the prophet Isaiah.  He follows it by describing John’s proclamation in the desert, calling for a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.  Essentially, Mark has equated the two, saying (without saying it specifically) that John’s call to repentance in the desert is the same call to “prepare the way” that Isaiah had made, centuries earlier.
          The Gospel then states that “people of the whole Judean countryside and all the inhabitants of Jerusalem were going out to him.”  In other words, the whole Jewish nation heard of John’s proclamation and began to come to him to be baptized.  Perhaps many of them were reluctant at first, unable to see the “awe” in the awe-filled proclamation that John was making.  Eventually, perhaps through the witness of seeing others go out to the Jordan River or of speaking with others who returned from there, these reluctant ones could see that their hearts indeed had become drowsy waiting for the coming of God that Isaiah had promised.  With “hearts awake,” however, they could experience the joy-filled expectation that the coming promised by the prophet was now at hand.
          And so we encounter these readings here today in this season of Advent for the same purpose: to call us to recognize the drowsiness of our own hearts so that we too may awaken to the experience of joy-filled expectation for the second-coming of Jesus.  Just like those ancient Jews, it feels like Christ’s promised return is long-delayed, but when we recognize—as Saint Peter reminds us in our second reading today—that “with the Lord one day is like a thousand years and a thousand years like one day,” it makes it easier to see that Jesus’ delay is, ultimately, for our benefit.  Christ wishes that all of us should come to repentance, as Saint Peter reminds us, and so every second that he delays—which is as nothing to him—is a gift of opportunity for us to wake up our drowsy hearts (and the hearts of others!), so as to be ready when he comes.
          My sisters and brothers, Jesus did not tell his disciples to “beware that their hearts not become drowsy” because he is an exacting master, demanding strict discipline so as never to sin.  Rather, he was instructing them—and so us through the preservation of his words in the Gospels—to remain vigilant so that they would not be “asleep”—that is, too focused on either indulgence in worldly things or on the anxieties of daily life—and, thus, miss out on the joy of witnessing his return in glory.  My sisters and brothers, this is what the season of Advent is doing for us.  It’s as if the season itself is saying, “Take comfort, for this time of suffering is at an end and the time for Christ’s return is near!”  If it hasn’t done this for you yet, then I encourage you to spend time praying with these readings in this coming week and to ask God to awaken in your heart a joy-filled expectation for his coming.  And if it has?  Well, I think the Gospel then shows us what to do.
          All of the people from the Judean countryside and the city-dwellers of Jerusalem came out to John to receive the baptism of repentance and to acknowledge their sins—to “make straight a path” in their hearts for the coming of the long-awaited Messiah, the one Isaiah promised.  We too, then, are called to repent and acknowledge our sins.  For the fully-initiated, that means the sacrament of reconciliation—or confession—and it is why the Church encourages all Catholics to celebrate this sacrament during the season of Advent.  As we hear the readings reminding us of how the ancient Jews prepared the way of the Lord in their hearts at the sound of John’s proclamation, so we too are called to prepare a pathway for Christ to come into our hearts by reconciling with both God and our neighbor through the sacrament of confession.
          Friends, beware that yours hearts do not become drowsy from the oversaturation of “Christmas Spirit” in which the world outside of these walls is drowning you.  Rather, use this time of Advent to prepare your heart well for Christ’s second coming and the best gift you will receive on Christmas day will be the joy of the Lord in your heart: the joy present to us, even now, here in this Eucharist.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – December 9th & 10th, 2017

Friday, December 8, 2017

La gracia es la mas importante

Anunciación - Bl. Fra Angelico


Homilía: La Solemnidad de la Inmaculada Concepción
de la Virgen María – Ciclo B
          Todos estamos familiarizados con el hecho de que la celebración de hoy ocurre cada año durante el Adviento. Sin embargo, lo que quizás no sepa es que el calendario litúrgico de la Iglesia no lo ubicó deliberadamente allí. Más bien, recordamos y celebramos la Inmaculada Concepción el 8 de diciembre porque celebramos el cumpleaños de María el 8 de septiembre (nueve meses adelante). La concepción de María se calculó al revés de su cumpleaños, independientemente de Adviento. Sin embargo, a pesar de que nuestra celebración de la Inmaculada Concepción no fue colocada intencionalmente en Adviento, parece que la Divina Providencia ha hecho que este incidente fortuito en un incidente significativo de Dios.
          El Adviento es el momento cuando recordamos cuán oscuro era el mundo antes de Cristo y cuán oscuro aún es el mundo donde los corazones aún no se han vuelto hacia él. Antes de Cristo, la raza humana no podía salvarse del mal—es decir, no podíamos alcanzar la felicidad y la paz para la que fuimos creados—porque el pecado original nos había excluido de nuestro destino. Por lo tanto, Dios vino a nuestro rescate enviándonos un Salvador: su Hijo Divino, Jesucristo. Por medio de Cristo, por lo tanto, podemos decir, como escribió San Pablo a los Efesios en su carta de la que leemos hoy, que Dios "nos ha bendecido en él con toda clase de bienes espirituales y celestiales". Es verdad que, sin la gracia de Cristo, ninguno de nosotros tendría ninguna posibilidad de obtener plenitud y verdadera felicidad. Pero con su gracia, lo hacemos; y ese es el mensaje de Adviento: que Cristo vino y nos restauró a la gracia y que él volverá para llevarlo a su cumplimiento, y ese también es el mensaje de la Inmaculada Concepción.
          Es verdad que la grandeza de María no proviene de su inteligencia, belleza o encanto. En otras palabras, no proviene de sus cualidades naturales. La grandeza de María, más bien, proviene de que Dios la llena con una porción extraordinaria de su gracia: una gracia a través de la cual la protegió de la mancha y los efectos del pecado original, convirtiéndola así en la madre perfecta para Jesús. Es por eso que el ángel Gabriel la saludó con esas palabras que solemos repetir: "Dios te salve María, llena eres de gracia, el Señor está contigo..." en lugar de "Dios te salve María, la persona más amable que conozco, el Señor está contigo..." También es por esto—que María fue bendecida por una gracia extraordinaria—que también hacemos eco de las palabras de Isabel a María en la Visitación: "...bendita tú eres entre todas las mujeres". Lo que más le importaba a María era la acción de Dios en su vida, y lo mismo nos importa más a nosotros.
          Es por eso que encontramos santos canonizados en todas las situaciones de la vida: jóvenes y viejos, educados y sin educación, ricos y pobres, dotados y torpes. Cada uno de nosotros fue creado para vivir en comunión con Dios; y solo a través de la amistad con Cristo podemos lograr eso. Por lo tanto, todas nuestras otras actividades, talentos, metas, éxitos, fracasos, premios—es decir, todo lo demás—es absolutamente secundario.
          Soy un gran admirador del arte del Renacimiento y algunas de mis piezas favoritas de arte renacentista son las pinturas que se pueden encontrar en la iglesia de San Marcos en Florencia, Italia. El gran pintor renacentista y fraile dominico, Beato Fra Angelico, captó esta idea de que no está en nuestros dones que encontremos grandeza, sino en la gracia de Dios en nosotros en su magnífica pintura de la Anunciación, encontrada en el convento de la iglesia de San Marcos.
          La pintura está pintada en la pared de una de las celdas de los frailes, y estaba destinada a fomentar la meditación y la oración. Muestra parte de un patio: una pequeña sección de una columnata arqueada (o pequeña pasarela con pilares) que se abre a un jardín. En la apertura ves al arcángel Gabriel, entregando su mensaje. En el otro lado, el lado amurallado de la columnata (a la derecha cuando lo miras) es María. Allí está sentada en un banco de madera, vestida con un sencillo y humilde atuendo, con los brazos cruzados sobre el pecho con humildad. Las paredes y el techo de la columnata están completamente desnudos: sin decoración. Los colores utilizados en la pintura son tenues: incluso las gloriosas alas del ángel están quietas. No hay ninguna señal del ruido de la actividad humana: es solo María y la Palabra de Dios.
          La belleza de esto, por supuesto, es el recordatorio de que el evento más trascendental de todos los tiempos—es decir, la encarnación del Hijo de Dios—ocurre en un ambiente pequeño, sencillo y tranquilo; que luego también nos recuerda que lo más importante en el mundo es la acción de Dios en nuestras vidas, y que su acción tiene lugar en el tranquilo jardín de nuestras almas, no en el ruidoso ambiente de nuestro mundo de hoy.
          Hermanos, hoy recordamos que María recibió una efusión superabundante de la gracia de Dios en el mismo momento de su concepción. Por lo tanto, ella estaba "llena de gracia", y sigue siendo así ahora. Dios le dio este privilegio especial porque le había asignado una misión especial: ser la madre de Cristo y la madre de la Iglesia. No hemos recibido el mismo privilegio; y esto porque no tenemos la misma misión. Pero nos ha dado una misión. Cada uno de nosotros está llamado a conocer, amar y seguir a Cristo de una manera completamente única. Y así, también hemos recibido la gracia de Dios y continuamos recibiéndola. Si María estaba "llena de gracia", entonces estamos "siendo llenados de gracia" y, cuanto más conscientes seamos de esta gracia, mejor podremos colaborar con ella. Sin embargo, ser consciente de ello significa saber cómo se ve.
          Hay una idea equivocada acerca de cómo se ve la gracia que está muy extendida, y obstaculiza el crecimiento espiritual de muchos cristianos. Esta idea equivocada es pensar que la gracia de Dios siempre está acompañada por emociones agradables. A veces sentimos la presencia de Dios: como cuando vemos a la iglesia decorada en Nochebuena o cuando vemos una hermosa puesta de sol. Pero otras veces, Dios está trabajando duro en nosotros y a través de nosotros y no sentimos nada (o, peor aún, ¡nos sentimos horribles!). Esto demuestra que la acción de Dios en nuestras vidas va más allá de las emociones. De hecho, la oración más grande de Cristo—la oración que hizo en el Jardín de Getsemaní—estuvo acompañada de profunda tristeza, confusión y temor. Por lo tanto, para dar a la gracia de Dios la importancia que debería tener en nuestras vidas, tenemos que aprender a vivir, no por sentimientos engañosos, sino por la fe.
          Mis hermanos y hermanas, al honrar a nuestra Madre espiritual hoy y recibir el Santísimo Sacramento en esta Misa, pidamos a María que aumente nuestra fe, para que podamos ser, como ella, cada vez más llenos de la gracia de Dios; porque, como nuestra madre en el orden de la gracia, ella no quiere nada más que nosotros también estaríamos "llenos de gracia": con la misma gracia que nos derrama de este altar, su hijo Jesucristo.
Dado en la parroquia de Todos los Santos: Logansport, IN

8 de diciembre, 2017

It's all about grace

Annunciation - Bl. Fra Angelico


Homily: Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception
of the Blessed Virgin Mary – Cycle B
          We are all familiar with the fact that today’s celebration occurs each year during Advent.  What you may not know, however, is that the Church's liturgical calendar did not purposely place it there.  Rather, we remember and celebrate the Immaculate Conception on December 8th because we celebrate Mary's birthday on September 8th.  Mary's conception was calculated backwards from her birthday, independently of Advent.  Nevertheless, even though our celebration of the Immaculate Conception wasn’t intentionally placed in Advent, it seems that Divine Providence has made this coincidental occurrence into a meaningful God-incidence.
          Advent is the time when we remember how dark the world was before Christ and how dark the world still is wherever hearts have not yet turned to Christ.  Before Christ, the human race could not save itself from evil—that is, we could not achieve the happiness and peace for which we were created—because original sin had cut us off from our destiny.  Thus, God came to our rescue by sending us a Savior: his Divine Son, Jesus Christ.  Through Christ, therefore, we can say, as Saint Paul wrote to the Ephesians in his letter from which we read today, that God has "blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavens."  It’s true that, without Christ's grace, none of us would have any chance at fulfillment and true happiness; but with his grace, we do and that's the Advent message—that Christ has come and restored us to grace and that he is coming again to bring it to fulfillment—and that's also the message of the Immaculate Conception.
          You see, friends, Mary's greatness doesn't come from her intelligence, good looks, or her charm.  In other words, it doesn't come from her natural qualities.  Mary's greatness, rather, comes from her being filled by God with an extraordinary share of his grace: a grace through which he protected her from the stain and effects of original sin, thus making her the perfect mother for Jesus.  That's why the angel Gabriel greeted her with those words that we so often repeat: "Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you…” instead of “Hail Mary, the nicest person I know, the Lord is with you…”  It is also because of this—that Mary was blessed by an extraordinary grace—that we also echo Elizabeth’s words to Mary at the Visitation: “…blessed are you among women."  What mattered most for Mary was God's action in her life, and the same thing matters most for us.
          This is why we find canonized saints in absolutely every life situation: young and old, educated and uneducated, rich and poor, gifted and clumsy.  Each of us was created to live in communion with God; and only through friendship with Christ can we achieve that.  Therefore, all our other activities, talents, goals, successes, failures, awards—that is, everything else—is absolutely secondary.
          I’m a big fan of Renaissance art and some of my favorite pieces of Renaissance art are the paintings that can be found in the church of Saint Mark in Florence, Italy.  The great Renaissance painter and Dominican friar, Blessed Fra Angelico, captured this idea that it isn’t in our gifts that we find greatness, but in God’s grace in us in his magnificent painting of the Annunciation, found in the friary of Saint Mark’s church.
          The painting is painted on the wall of one of the friar's cells, and it was intended to encourage meditation and prayer.  It shows part of a courtyard: a little section of an arched colonnade (or small, pillared walkway) which opens into a garden.  In the opening you see the archangel Gabriel, delivering his message.  On the other side, the walled side of the colonnade (to the right as you look at it), is Mary.  There she sits on a plain wooden bench, dressed in a simple, humble outfit, her arms folded in humility across her chest.  The walls and ceiling of the colonnade are completely bare: no decoration at all.  The colors used in the painting are subdued: even the glorious wings of the angel are quiet and still.  There is absolutely no sign of the hustle and bustle of human activity: it's just Mary and the Word of God.
          The beauty of this, of course, is the reminder that the most momentous event of all time—that is, the incarnation of the Son of God—happens in a small, plain, tranquil setting; which then also reminds us that what matters most in the world is God's action in our lives, and that his action takes place in the quiet garden of our souls, not in the noisy media frenzy that clouds our world today.
          Friends, today we remember that Mary received a superabundant outpouring of God's grace at the very moment of her conception.  Therefore, she was "full of grace," and remains that way now.  God gave her this special privilege because he had assigned her a special mission: to be the mother of Christ and the mother of the Church.  We have not been given that same privilege; and this because we don't have that same mission.  But we have been given a mission.  Each one of us is called to know, love, and follow Christ in a completely unique way.  And so, we have also received God's grace and we continue to receive it.  If Mary was "full of grace," then we are "being filled with grace" and the more aware that we are of this grace, the better we will be able collaborate with it.  Being aware of it, however, means knowing what it looks like.
          There is one wrong idea about what grace looks like that is very widespread, and it stunts the spiritual growth of many Christians.  This wrong idea is to think that God's grace is always accompanied by nice emotions.  At times we do feel God's presence: like when we see the church decorated on Christmas Eve or when we see a beautiful sunset.  But other times, God is working hard in us and through us and we feel absolutely nothing (or, worse, we feel horrible!).  This demonstrates that God's action in our lives goes deeper than emotions.  In fact, Christ's greatest prayer—the prayer he made in the Garden of Gethsemane—was accompanied by profound sadness, confusion, and fear!  Therefore, in order to give God's grace the importance that it should have in our lives, we have to learn how to live, not by deceptive feelings, but by faith.
          My brothers and sisters, as we honor our spiritual Mother today and receive the Blessed Sacrament in this Mass, let's ask Mary to increase our faith, so that we can be, like her, more and more filled with God's grace; because, as our mother in the order of grace, she wants nothing more than that we, too, would be “full of grace”: the same grace that pours out to us from this altar, her son Jesus Christ.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – December 8th, 2017

Monday, December 4, 2017

Adviento es un tiempo para mostrar nuestra devoción


Homilía: 1º Domingo del Adviento – Ciclo B
          No es ningún secreto que celebramos muchos funerales aquí en Todos los Santos. A medida que el número de funerales que he celebrado continúa creciendo, estoy creciendo en mi comprensión de cómo, como sacerdote, puedo cuidar mejor las necesidades espirituales y emocionales de la familia que está afligida por la pérdida de un ser querido. Estar presente con ellos mientras su ser querido está muriendo es, por supuesto, importante. También es muy importante reunirse con ellos para orar con ellos, dejarles contar la historia de su ser querido y ayudarlos a planificar la Misa de funeral después de la muerte de su ser querido. Lo que he observado, sin embargo, es que el trabajo "bajo cuerda" de la preparación para la Misa de funeral es también un gran trabajo de cuidado espiritual y emocional para los que sufren.
          Me parece que, cuando una familia llega a la puerta de la iglesia con el cuerpo de su ser querido, si encuentran todo preparado y que hemos estado esperando su llegada, serán consolados: consolados porque saben que han sido cuidados. Este signo de devoción, yo diría, es uno de los mejores cuidados espirituales y emocionales que puedo brindar.
          En tiempos antiguos, cuando el jefe de una casa se iba de viaje, medía el nivel de devoción de los sirvientes domésticos por lo preparados que estaban para recibirlo cuando regresaba a casa. Si regresaba y encontraba la casa en orden y sus sirvientes listos para darle la bienvenida, sabría de su devoción. Sin embargo, si regresaba y encontraba la casa desordenada y sus sirvientes luchando por hacer preparativos para recibirlo (o, peor aún, ignorando por completo el hecho de su regreso), sabría de su falta de devoción. En esa cultura, habría sido una señal de gran irrespeto para no estar preparado para recibir a un viajero esperado.
          Jesús, por lo tanto, usa este ejemplo para amonestar a sus discípulos acerca de su segunda venida. En cierto sentido, les está diciendo: "Es cierto, me voy; pero mantente alerta porque volveré y mediré su devoción hacia mí por lo preparado que están para recibirme". Tan fuerte es su advertencia que especifica que no habrá parte de la noche que será prohibido por su regreso y por eso no deberían bajar la guardia por un momento.
          En esto debemos escuchar los ecos de la parábola de las jóvenes descuidadas y previsoras. Aunque todos se durmieron mientras esperaban el regreso del novio, solo las jóvenes previsoras se prepararon para ello y trajeron aceite extra. Cuando el novio regresó y estaban listos para recibirlo, fueron bienvenidos a la fiesta; porque ellos le habían mostrado su devoción. Las jóvenes descuidadas, que tuvieron que huir para comprar más aceite, demostraron su falta de devoción y fueron abandonadas y rechazadas por el novio: tan poco amado había sentido por ellos que incluso se negó a reconocer que los conocía.
          Por lo tanto, al comenzar esta temporada de Adviento, renovamos esta advertencia para nosotros mismos. En primer lugar, nos estamos recordando a nosotros mismos que nuestro amo—el jefe de la casa, el novio—está lejos y estamos esperando su regreso. Entonces, nos estamos recordando a nosotros mismos que, si somos realmente devotos de él, no debemos bajar la guardia y comenzar a olvidarnos de nuestros preparativos, incluso si parece que ha tardado mucho en llegar. Porque el hecho del asunto sigue siendo que él podría venir en cualquier momento; y que, a pesar del hecho de que Dios es "rico en misericordia", no tendrá misericordia de aquellos que fueron advertidos tan claramente a través de estas parábolas.
          Y entonces, la pregunta nos llega a nosotros: "¿Estamos tan devotos a Jesús para estar listos para recibirlo cuando regrese?" En otras palabras, ¿nos estamos preparando activamente y esperando su regreso? ¿O vamos por nuestro propio negocio, ignorando el hecho de que él podría regresar hoy? Si la respuesta es "sí, estoy preparándome activamente y esperando su regreso", ¡que bueno! ¡Sigan con el buen trabajo! Si la respuesta es "no tanto", o, a toda máquina, "no", ¡aquí está su llamada de atención!
          Si cae en esta última categoría (que, supongo, la mayoría de nosotros lo caemos), con suerte siente cierta ansiedad al respecto. Si es así, ¡eso es una buena señal! Es una señal de que tiene devoción por Jesús, aunque es posible que no lo demuestre en este momento. De hecho, incluso si siente que está preparándote activamente y esperando el regreso de Jesús, también debería sentir un poco de ansiedad; porque todos sabemos que, no importa cuánto se prepare para recibir a alguien que cuida, siempre está un poco ansioso de que no sea lo suficientemente bueno, ¿verdad? Sin embargo, si no tiene ningún tipo de ansiedad, muestra que ere presuntuoso (como las jóvenes descuidados) o que realmente no le importa (lo cual, entonces, le hace preguntar: ¿Por qué esta aquí?). Voy a continuar, sin embargo, bajo la suposición de que todos nosotros aquí tenemos una devoción a Jesús en algún nivel, pero que estamos menos que preparados para recibirlo si él viniera hoy. Si ese es el caso, entonces creo que el profeta Isaías nos da un buen "punto de partida" para comenzar nuestro Adviento.
          Isaías se sintió frustrado porque su pueblo se había alejado del Señor, y entonces clama a Dios y le pide que vaya y lo arregle todo. Aunque esto proviene de un lugar de frustración, también expresa una gran fe: ¡que el Señor es lo suficientemente poderoso para arreglar incluso esto, su mayor desorden! Isaías expresa su deseo de que, cuando el Señor venga, encuentre a su gente ocupada en su trabajo y tenga cuidado de él—es decir, mostrando devoción por él por estar preparado para su venida. Isaías sabe, sin embargo, que no lo son, pero de todos modos grita al Señor. En otras palabras, él no entra en pánico y trata de arreglar todo por sí mismo antes de que venga el Señor, sino que envía una nota para decir: "Oye, sé que estás en camino, pero el lugar es un desastre, y es posible que no se arregle antes de que llegues aquí. De hecho, vas a tener que ayudarnos a limpiarlo. ¡Pero ten en cuenta que queríamos que te lo limpiaran por ti!"
          Nosotros también debemos comenzar nuestro Adviento de esta manera: clamando a Dios y pidiéndole que venga, aunque no estemos tan preparados como nos gustaría. Esto, en sí mismo, es un signo de devoción: es decir, que estamos atentos a su venida. Habiendo comenzado de esta manera, nos veremos movidos a hacer lo que podamos para hacer los preparativos. ¿Y cuáles son esas preparaciones? Bien, los oímos la semana pasada: que los hambrientos son alimentados, los sedientos beben, los extraños son bienvenidos, los desnudos están vestidos, los enfermos son atendidos, y los que están en prisión son visitados. Jesús prometió que, cuando hacemos estas cosas a alguien, se lo hacemos a él; y entonces realizar estos actos de misericordia es una gran señal de devoción hacia él. Aún más, sin embargo, cuando hacemos estas obras de misericordia, estamos haciendo que el reino de Dios esté presente entre nosotros; y ¿qué mejor manera de prepararse para la venida de nuestro Rey, que su reino sea vibrante y brillante cuando venga?
          Mis hermanos y hermanas, a través de las palabras de San Pablo a los corintios, Dios nos ha prometido que nos ha dado todos los dones espirituales que necesitamos para prepararnos para recibir a nuestro Señor cuando venga. Por lo tanto, comencemos hoy para mostrarle a nuestro Señor nuestra devoción una vez más, para que estaremos listos para recibirlo con alegría cuando venga.
Dado en la parroquia de Todos los Santos: Logansport, IN

3 de diciembre, 2017