Preparing to hail the King

Homily: 1^st Sunday of Advent – Cycle A

Friends, hot on the heels of our celebration of Christ the King, we come to the first Sunday of Advent.  Instead of hearing readings that turn our focus to the Christ Child (perhaps as we’d prefer they’d do), we hear readings that remind us of Christ’s kingship.  And this is totally appropriate since the beginning of our new liturgical year is never a “reset”, but always a “continuation”.  Our declaration last week that Jesus Christ is Lord and King of the Universe necessarily leads us right into the truth that he is yet to come again, and our readings remind us of this.

In our first reading from the prophet Isaiah, we hear the prophecy of how the Lord will come to establish Mount Zion, the hill on which Jerusalem was built, as the “highest” mountain.  As we know, the city of Jerusalem is nowhere near the highest point of anything.  In the symbolic language of the prophets, however, the cities of the greatest prominence—from which the greatest rulers rule—are the ones built on the highest mountains and so Isaiah declares that God will come to establish Mount Zion as the highest mountain so that Jerusalem will be considered the greatest of cities from which the greatest of rulers, the Lord, will rule over all the earth.

This is an obvious allusion to Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, whom Isaiah didn’t know, but nonetheless foretold, and who would, by his death and resurrection on Mount Zion, establish himself as king.  In doing so, he will draw all nations to himself; because, in himself, he has become Mount Zion, established as the highest mountain (for we read in the Gospel of John that Jesus says, “...when I am lifted from the earth, I will draw all people to myself.” ~ John 12:32).  Then we hear Isaiah say, “Many peoples shall come and say: ‘Come, let us climb the Lord’s mountain, to the house of the God of Jacob, that he may instruct us in his ways, and we may walk in his paths.’”  Is this not the embodiment of who Jesus is?  The one to whom all peoples go up to be instructed in his ways so as to walk in his paths?  And yet Isaiah continues: “For from Zion shall go forth instruction, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.”  In Jesus Christ we see this, too, happening.  Carried first by his apostles and then by the faithful throughout the generations, this instruction has gone out into the world.

Bishop Robert Barron, in a recent podcast reflecting on the feast of Christ the King, reminds us that this was the whole purpose of Christ’s coming: that is, to establish a kingdom that unifies the world.  And this is a real kingdom, with Christ as the king, and with the law of God as the universal rule for all peoples everywhere.  In other words, Christ didn’t come to teach us how to be nice people and then to sacrifice himself for our sins only to return to heaven and leave us alone—as if, as he ascended, he could be heard saying, “Now you better behave, because I’m not going to come down their again and save you!”  No, Christ came to establish the definitive kingdom of God under his own kingship.  This is what we celebrate on the feast of Christ the King.  That he will return in all of his glory to take his kingdom unto himself is what the season of Advent spurs us to remember.

This remembering, however, is never static.  In other words, we’re not meant to go “Oh yeah,” and then continue as if nothing is different.  Rather, this remembering is meant to spur us into action: for we are the ones who have gone up to Christ to receive instruction so as to walk in his paths, and we are the ones who are sent to go forth from Christ into the world with this instruction.  And why?  To prepare for the final uniting of all into the one kingdom of heaven.  And so, how do we prepare?

We prepare by first recognizing that this world is covered in darkness: a darkness that only the light of Christ can penetrate and illuminate.  It is fitting, then, that we celebrate this season at the time of year in which the days are filled with the least amount of daylight.  Advent calls us to recognize this darkness and enter into it, so that we can know what is truly the light of Christ and what is the false light that the world puts forth to distract us.

Frankly, I just don’t see how we can do this if we have already filled our lives with winter holiday lights and festivities.  At the end of the prophecy that we heard in today’s reading, Isaiah exhorts the children of Israel to “walk in the light of the Lord”, and Saint Paul, in the second reading from the Letter to the Romans, exhorts them to “throw off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light”.  Friends, I declare that this is all but impossible for us if we have already decked out our homes with false lights and festivities that have little to do with preparing for Christ’s coming.  We should, rather, be examining ourselves—going into the darkness of our inner selves—to see if we are truly prepared to meet Christ our King and to be judged by him.

Therefore, I exhort you to leave off the lights and festivities this Advent and instead “seek first the kingdom of God”.  For, as Christ himself reminded us in today’s Gospel reading, we do not know the day when Christ will come.  Rather, it will catch us unaware, going about, as it were, our daily business.  Those who are ready for the judgment will be taken up into the kingdom, and those who aren’t will be left behind.  You know, it is really unfortunate that there are so many teachers in the Church today who will argue for universal salvation: that is, that ultimately everyone will be saved.  Unfortunate because it is not biblical.  The biblical teaching is that there are many who will be lost to eternal punishment: most of whom, I would guess, will be lost because they didn’t take care to be ready for the day that the Lord called them to judgment.  And this for me is very distressing, which is why I am preaching this to you today.

You know, there’s a specter running around called “The Christmas Spirit” that convinces people to believe in a domesticated Christmas: a Christmas that’s all about family reunions, meals, and shared gifts.  This, I argue, is a false spirit.  False because Christ himself cannot be domesticated.  The true Spirit of Christmas is the one that leads us to prepare for and hail the coming of Christ the King: a king more powerful than all the rulers of this world, a king who will judge between nations and impose terms on many peoples, a king who can, once and for all, lead people to beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks, a king who can bring true and lasting peace through justice by uniting all peoples into one kingdom.  Friends, if your “Christmas Spirit” isn’t a spirit that prepares for and hails this king, then I say to you again: it is a false spirit.

The question, therefore, that this first Sunday of Advent poses to all of us is this: “Where is Christ the King in my preparations for and celebrations of Advent?”  If you struggle to find him there, then perhaps you’ll ask yourself, “What, then, am I preparing for?”  Let us all challenge ourselves to discern in prayer at least one way that we can turn this time of Advent and Christmas into a preparation for and a hailing of the coming of Christ the King.  Perhaps we’ll take up a work of mercy, or spend an hour in adoration each week, or read the scriptures a little each day (especially if that means turning off TV, steaming services, or social media), or any number of things.  Making a good and thorough examination of conscience and sacramental reconciliation is probably one of the best ways to put Christ the King into your preparations.  Whatever you discern, be intentional.  Write it down and make concrete plans to do it.  Share those plans with a friend and keep each other accountable to it.  In this way you will keep yourself awake for the day of the Lord’s coming, which may be very soon, and you will be ready to join the multitudes who sing with the Psalmist: “Let us go rejoicing to the house of the Lord.”

Given at Saint Mary’s Cathedral: Lafayette, IN – December 1^st, 2019

Awaken your drowsy heart!

Homily: 2^nd 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 9^th & 10^th, 2017

Advent a time for showing our devotion

Homily: 1^st Sunday of Advent – Cycle B

          It’s no secret that we celebrate a lot of funerals here at All Saints.  As the number of funerals that I’ve celebrated continues to grow, I’m growing in my understanding of how, as a priest, I can best care for the spiritual and emotional needs of the family who is grieving the loss of a loved one.  Being present with them while their loved one is dying is, of course, important.  Meeting with them to pray with them, to let them tell the story of their loved one, and to help them plan the funeral Mass after their loved one has died is also very important.  What I have observed, however, is that the “behind the scenes” work of preparing for the funeral Mass is a great work of spiritual and emotional care for those in grief, as well.

          It seems to me that, when a family arrives at the door of the church with the body of their loved one, if they find everything prepared and that we have been waiting for their arrival, they will be comforted: comforted because they know that they have been cared for.  This sign of devotedness, I would argue, is some of the best spiritual and emotional care that I can provide.

          In ancient times, when the head of a household would go on a journey, he would measure the level of devotedness of his household servants by how ready they were to receive him when he returned home.  If he returned and found the house in order and his servants ready to welcome him, he would know of their devotedness.  If he returned, however, and found the house in disorder and his servants scrambling to make preparations to receive him (or, worse yet, ignoring the fact of his return altogether), he would know of their lack of devotedness.  In that culture, it would have been a sign of great disrespect to be unprepared to welcome an expected traveler.

          Jesus, therefore, uses this example to admonish his disciples about his second coming.  In a sense, he is saying to them: “It’s true, I'm going; but stay alert because I'll be back and I'll measure your devotedness to me by how ready you are to receive me.”  So strong is his admonition that he specifies that there will be no part of the night that will be “off-limits” for his return and so they should not let down their guard for one moment.  In this we should hear echoes of the parable of the wise and foolish virgins.  Even though they all fell asleep as they awaited the bridegroom’s return, only the wise virgins prepared for it and brought extra oil.  When they bridegroom returned and they were ready to receive him, they were welcomed into the feast; for they had shown him their devotedness.  The foolish virgins, who had to run off to buy more oil, had proven their lack of devotion and so were left outside and shunned by the bridegroom: so unloved had he felt by them that he even refused to acknowledge that he knew them.

          Thus, as we begin this Advent season, we are renewing this admonition for ourselves.  First and foremost, we are reminding ourselves that our master—the head of the household, the bridegroom—is away and we are awaiting his return.  Then, we are reminding ourselves that, if we are truly devoted to him, we must not let our guard down and begin to forget about our preparations, even if it seems like he is long-delayed in his coming.  Because the fact of the matter remains that he could come at any time; and that, in spite of the fact that God is, indeed, “rich in mercy”, he will not have mercy on those who had been forewarned so clearly through these parables.

          And so, the question comes to us: “Are we so devoted to Jesus as to be ready to receive him when he returns?”  In other words, are we actively preparing and watching for his return? or are we going about our own business, ignoring the fact that he could return today?  If the answer is “yes, I am actively preparing and watching for his return”, then great!  Keep up the good work!  If the answer is “well… not so much”, or, flat out, “no”, then here is your wakeup call!

          Hopefully, if you fall into this latter category (which, I would guess, most of us do), you feel some anxiety about it.  If so, then that’s a good sign!  It’s a sign that you have devotion to Jesus, even though you might be failing at demonstrating it right now.  In fact, even if you do feel like you are actively preparing and watching for Jesus’ return, you should feel some anxiety, also; because we all know that, no matter how much you prepare to receive someone you care for, you’re always a little anxious that it isn’t going to be good enough, right?  If you have no anxiety at all, however, it shows that you are either presumptuous (kind of like the foolish virgins) or that you really don’t care at all (which, then, begs the question: what you’re doing here?).  I’m going to continue, however, under the assumption that all of us here do have a devotion to Jesus at some level, but that we are less than prepared to receive him if he should come today.  If that is the case, then I think that the prophet Isaiah gives us a good “stepping-off point” to begin our Advent.

          Isaiah was frustrated that his people had wandered far away from the Lord, and so he cries out to God and asks him to come and fix it all!  Now, although this comes from a place of frustration, it also expresses a great faith: that the Lord is powerful enough to fix even this, their greatest mess!  Isaiah expresses his desire that, when the Lord comes, he would find his people busy about his work and mindful of him—that is, showing a devotedness to him by being prepared for his coming.  Isaiah knows, however, that they aren’t, but he calls on the Lord, anyway.  In other words, he doesn't panic and try to get everything fixed up by himself before the Lord comes, but rather he sends a note to say: "Hey, I know you're on your way, but the place is a mess and it may not get fixed up before you get here.  In fact, you're going to have to help us clean it up.  Know that we wanted to get it cleaned up for you, though!"

          We, too, should begin our Advent this way: by crying out to God and asking him to come, even though we're not as prepared as we'd like to be.  This, in itself, is a sign of devotedness: that is, that we are being watchful for his coming.  Having begun in this way, we will then be moved to do what we can to make preparations.  And what are those preparations?  Well, we heard them last week: that the hungry are fed, the thirsty are given drink, the strangers are welcomed, the naked are clothed, the sick are cared for, and those in prison are visited.  Jesus promised that, when we do these things to anyone, we do them to him; and so to perform these acts of mercy is great sign of devotedness to him.  Still more, however, when we do these acts of mercy we are making God’s kingdom present among us; and what better way can there be to prepare for the coming of our King, than for his kingdom to be vibrant and shining when he comes.

          My brothers and sisters, through the words of Saint Paul to the Corinthians, God has promised us that he has given us every spiritual gift that we need to make ourselves ready to receive our Lord when he comes.  Therefore, let us begin today to show our Lord our devotedness once again, so as to be ready to receive him with joy when he comes.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – December 3^rd, 2017

"Be Prepared"

Homily: 32^nd Sunday, Ordinary Time – Cycle A

          Although I was never a Boy Scout, I nevertheless have always remembered their simple motto: “Be prepared.”  This simple motto is meant to remind young boys of the need to be ready to handle unexpected situations, when they occur.  For example, a young man hiking in the woods should be prepared with a compass and a flashlight in case he finds he has lost the trail.  Similarly, he should be prepared with extra food in case adverse weather strands him at a campsite for an extra day or two.  Still further, he should be prepared to assist in adverse situations like, for example, if he encounters a car accident and other emergency personnel have not yet arrived.  This simple, practical advice is nothing new, of course.  The Boy Scouts are simply adapting time-honored wisdom to help boys learn how to be responsible young men, which hopefully will translate into their involvement in their communities.

          For the virgins in our Gospel reading today, we see how this notion of preparedness rings true.  Five of the virgins, we are told, had taken thought of wisdom and thus acted prudently when they went out to wait for the bridegroom to return with his new bride.  Even though the reading doesn’t tell us this, I would guess that, like the foolish virgins, these wise virgins thought it was unlikely that the bridegroom, even if he was delayed, would return in the middle of the night.  Nevertheless, they didn’t presume to know for sure and so prudently brought with them extra oil for their lamps, realizing that it was better to have it and to be prepared than to be caught without it.

          The five foolish virgins, on the other hand, presumed just the opposite.  Instead of considering the possibility of a long wait or of the bridegroom returning in the middle of the night, they simply joined the vigil, lamps in hand, but without any extra oil to fuel them if the unexpected happened.  Thus, even though both the wise and the foolish virgins were surprised by the bridegroom’s return at midnight, only the wise, who were prepared to welcome him at this unlikely hour, were able to join the wedding feast.

          We, too, often find ourselves to be victims of this kind of presumption.  In our modern culture, particularly here in the United States, there is a certain cultural phenomenon occurring called “the tyranny of the urgent.”  Increasingly, people are allowing their lives to be driven by “urgent” tasks that seemingly cannot be put off until later.  For example, when business emergencies lead a parent to cancel a family vacation or to spend more time at work than at home, then it becomes apparent that the “urgency” of this person’s work is controlling his or her personal life, in some sense like a tyrant.  The result of this phenomenon is that people have begun to lose sight of long term goals and thus are failing to prepare for them.  A popular song in the nineteen-eighties pronounced that “everybody is working for the weekend.”  Such a “short term” view fails to recognize the need to be prepared for unexpected problems in the future.

          Probably the thing that is easiest for us to lose sight of—the thing that seems to be the least urgent—is the return of Christ.  For nearly two-thousand years, Christ has been “ascended into heaven” and is “seated at the right hand of the Father.”  Thus, for us it probably seems impossible that Jesus would just return without any warning—without some sort of prolonged sign—that would give us a chance to prepare ourselves to celebrate his return.  Yet, this is exactly the same presumption that the foolish virgins made, isn’t it?  We presume, exactly like they did, that, since he is long delayed in returning, he will not come at the unexpected time of midnight, but rather at a convenient time, when we can expect him, thus giving us time to put off our preparations.  As we saw in the parable of the virgins, however, this is a very dangerous presumption to make.

          What the wise virgins recognized but the foolish virgins failed to recognize was that everything that they needed in order to be prepared was readily available to them.  The merchants, it seemed, had no shortage of oil.  In fact, it appears that there were even “all-night” merchants, who were ready to sell the foolish virgins oil for their lamps even after midnight (the ancient equivalent to the modern convenience store).  This is to show that no one was trying to prevent any of the virgins from joining into the wedding feast, but rather that all that they needed to be prepared was readily available to them.  The grace, of course, comes when one takes advantage of the resources available to him or her.  Thus, the wise virgins who took advantage of what was available to them were rewarded for their prudence by being welcomed into the wedding feast.

          In the same way, when it comes to having the resources that we need to be prepared for the second coming of Christ, God has no less provided.  He has given us the sacraments as a way to stay connected to Christ’s Body and thus to prepare us for the day when he comes again.  Through Baptism, as well as Confirmation and Holy Communion, we are initiated into the Church as members of Christ’s body.  Through the sacrament of Reconciliation, we are healed and restored as members even after we’ve separated ourselves from it by sin.  Our weekly celebration of the Eucharist fills our flasks with oil and keeps us alert so that we are ready for the unexpected moment when Christ will come to take us, his Church, home to the eternal banquet in heaven.  Yes, these sacraments are instruments of God’s grace that connect us to him.  They make us “recognizable” to him so that when he comes again, he will invite us into the heavenly banquet.  Thus, it is the truly wise who take advantage of them.

          My brothers and sisters, as we approach the end of this liturgical year, we are being reminded to think about the promise that still awaits us—the eternal banquet in heaven—and of the need to “Be Prepared”—that is, to remain watchful and ready for when that day comes—for the Kingdom of Heaven will appear when we least expect it.  Thus, the question we might ask ourselves this week is, “How much oil is in my lamp?”  Whatever your answer may be, let us remember that, here today, we have an opportunity to fill our lamps with the grace offered to us from this altar: the Body and Blood of Christ, our Savior.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – November 12^th, 2017

Advent's reassurances

Homily: 3^rd Sunday of Advent – Cycle A

          I can understand why John the Baptist might have doubted.  He spent his adult life calling others to repentance in order to prepare themselves for the manifestation of the Messiah.  And on that fateful day that Jesus came out to him, he acknowledge Jesus as that Messiah, the Lamb of God who would take away the sins of the world.  After he had baptized Jesus and saw the Holy Spirit descend upon him and remain with him, John continued to preach repentance.  Now, however, he would turn those who were coming to him towards Jesus.  But the tables had turned, it seemed.  John found himself imprisoned by the Israelite king, Herod (someone who should have been welcoming his message!), and none of those things that the Messiah was supposed to bring forward, about which Isaiah had prophesied, seemed to be coming to fruition.

          Although I’ve never been imprisoned, I imagine that it affords a person a lot of time to think.  And, with one’s freedom removed, I imagine that it’s probably hard to think positively about things.  I can only imagine what John might have been thinking while he was in Herod’s prison: “Was I doing the right thing?”  “What if I was wrong?”  “What is Herod going to do with me?”  “What if Jesus really isn’t the Messiah?”  Then, along come some of his disciples to tell him of these things that Jesus is doing: miracles of healing and preaching about the kingdom of God.  Perhaps John felt very confused and conflicted and so I understand why he may have doubted.  He doesn’t want to doubt, though, and so he decides to send his disciples back to Jesus with this question “Are you the one who is to come or should we look for another?”

          I also understand why Jesus might have covered for him.  I mean, John was his number one promoter.  John pointed Jesus out and called him exactly what he is—the Lamb of God—and he told his disciples to turn and follow him, instead.  And so, when John’s disciples come to him saying “John told us to ask you this question: ‘Are you the one who is to come?’”, Jesus defended him: telling everyone that John was a prophet greater than all prophets and even going so far as to say that no one ever born has been greater than John (presumably including even himself).  I imagine that Jesus might have thought “If John is doubting, what will keep the rest of these people from doubting?”  And so, I understand why Jesus might have covered for him.

          It’s easy to understand these things, perhaps, because we can relate.  And so we read these scripture passages and we think “Look, they’re human just like us after all.”  And this is true!  They are human!  The challenge for us, however, is to look at this passage and realize that John didn’t doubt and that Jesus wasn’t covering for him.

          John, as we know, was the great herald of the Messiah’s coming.  He was “the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord.’”  He preached repentance because he knew that the one who would bring judgment was coming.  He leaped for joy at the presence of Jesus in the womb of Mary while he was still in the womb of his mother, Elizabeth.  And after Jesus manifested himself publicly, he boldly pointed him out and taught his followers to follow him.  His whole life was about “I must decrease, he must increase”, and so it just doesn’t make sense that, after years of believing in and proclaiming his coming, John would all of a sudden doubt.  And so, if this is what the scriptures seem to say to us, perhaps we should take a closer look.

          First, they tell us that “When John the Baptist heard in prison the works of the Christ, he sent his disciples to Jesus with this question…”  He sent his disciples…  John still had disciples!  But John’s purpose was to turn his disciples to Jesus!  In other words, his job was to work himself out of a job!  And so, having heard of the miracles that Jesus was performing and that he had been preaching the kingdom of God, John sent his disciples to ask the question for themselves: “Are you the one who is to come or should we [like, us personally] look for another?”  Jesus perceived what John was doing in sending his disciples to him and so he not only told them “yes” or “no”, but he showed them the proof of his answer: “Go and tell John what you hear and see…” and he preached the kingdom and performed these miracles before their eyes.

          John’s disciples, presumably converted, went off to share this good news with John in prison.  Jesus, far from trying to cover for John, extolls his praises as one of God’s greatest and most faithful servants.  He uses this opportunity to teach them about who John was so as to shed more light on who he was, because, remember, his followers were still just starting to understand that he is the Messiah.  And so he tells them that John is the prophet greater than all prophets, because he was chosen to be the herald of the Messiah’s coming.  More than that, however, he tells them that John is the greatest of all men because of his extreme faithfulness to God: faithfulness that isn’t deterred by the suffering caused because of imprisonment.  Then he uses this to teach about how much greater the kingdom of heaven is by saying that even this great man is as nothing in that kingdom.  All in the kingdom are greater even than he.

          Okay, but what about us?  You know, it’s understandable if we feel a little bit imprisoned these days.  The world is an increasingly dark place and it is increasingly hostile to our faith.  I can understand if perhaps any of you might begin to think thoughts like, “What if I was wrong?” and “What if Jesus isn’t who he says he is?”  “The perfect world that Isaiah promised would come with the Messiah seems to be far away, and so what are we to do?”  Advent, my brothers and sisters, gives us the answer.

          In the second reading, Saint James wrote to the first generation of Christians and encouraged them to be patient and to be steadfast in their right conduct throughout these many seasons until the Lord returns.  He exhorts them in this way because he anticipates the Lord’s return: “Behold, the Judge is standing before the gates”, he wrote.  This same advice applies to us today and reminds us of why we are in this holy season.  Although we are anticipating our celebration of Christmas—Christ’s first coming among us—the main focus of Advent is to remind us of our need to anticipate Christ’s second coming, which is still to come.

          We have come to know Jesus, the one for whom our hearts long.  Our task is to remain steadfast in faith, even in the face of hostility from the world, and to work to make the kingdom of heaven known in anticipation of Christ’s imminent return.  Advent is this time of renewal in which we return to Jesus, like John sending his disciples to him, and see once again for ourselves the proof that he is, indeed, who he says he is.  Perhaps even in our own lives we have seen him perform miracles: maybe not curing the blind or deaf or making otherwise crippled persons walk upright, but maybe in healing a broken relationship or consoling a heart crippled by a loss.  These and many more things are signs that Jesus is, indeed, the one who was to come and so we have no need to look for another.  This very fact is cause enough for us to rejoice!

          Nonetheless, we still have an even greater sign that Jesus is the one who was to come: his coming to us here at this altar.  May our hearts open more deeply to receive him here today and so be strengthened in our faith that the Messiah has come, is here, and will come again; and thus go forth from here rejoicing to strengthen the hearts of those around us so that all might be ready to receive him when he comes.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – December 10^th & 11^th, 2016

Prepare for the days after the celebration

          In case any of you think that you missed my homily last weekend, you didn't!  I was away in Colorado celebrating two friends of my who married each other.  Colorado is beautiful (and cold)!  With a full four weeks of Advent this year, however, we have plenty of time to prepare.  I hope that these postings will continue to benefit all of you who read them.

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Homily: 2^nd Sunday of Advent – Cycle A

          Although I’ve never actually planned a wedding, I can tell that there is a lot of preparation work that goes into it.  Once you choose a day and set it in stone, all sorts of deadlines suddenly appear before you: reserve a hall for the reception, reserve a photographer, order flowers, choose a caterer, shop for dresses and tuxedos, etc.  There is a lot of planning that goes into celebrating a wedding and I’m sure a lot of sacrifices have to be made in order to plan it well (including all the stereotypes of brides taking on intense diets and exercise so as to fit into that perfect dress that they found, right?).  The days and months leading up to the wedding become a “season of preparation” of sorts, in which the anxiety (and the stress) for the celebration grows, but in which the celebration never actually begins.

          Advent is a time of preparation.  Like Lent, which prepares us for the celebration of Easter, Advent is the time when we prepare for our celebration of Christ’s first coming among us when he was born in Bethlehem.  It is a time to plan ahead, putting the things in place so that our celebration of Christmas is as joy-filled and memorable as it could be.  Like preparing for a wedding, it is intended to be a time in which the anxiety (and, sometimes, the stress) for the celebration grows, but in which the celebration doesn’t yet begin.

          Now, aside from all of the concrete practical reasons for which this is necessary (e.g. it would be really expensive to try to celebrate your wedding for weeks leading up to the wedding day), there are many other spiritual reasons that make this time of preparation important for us.  As we know, the man and the woman who decide to marry must prepare not only for the wedding day, but for everything that comes after the wedding day: that is, their life together that begins on that great day of celebration.  After their wedding day, their lives will be radically different and if they are not prepared to embrace those differences, then they will find that the joy of their wedding will quickly fade and they may begin to question whether or not all of the preparation was worth it after all.

          We, too, as Christians, should look at these seasons of preparation, like Advent, not only as times to prepare for the celebration of the greatest feasts of Our Lord, like Christmas, but also as times to prepare for everything that comes after the day of celebration.  This is because our celebration of Christmas, if done well, should change us in some way; and although our lives might not be radically different after Christmas, they should still be different.  In this first part of Advent we consider the fulfillment of Christ’s first coming and remind ourselves of our need to be ready for his second coming at the end of time.  This fits right in with the idea of preparing for what will happen after Christmas Day and this is exactly what our Scriptures ask us to consider today.

          In our Gospel reading, John the Baptist is calling all to repent in order to prepare for the coming of the Messiah.  His call was more than the trite “bumper sticker prophesy” of “Jesus is coming: look busy!”  Rather, it was a call to true repentance, because when the Messiah appears everything is going to be different.  This is why he had strong words for the Pharisees and the Sadducees who were coming out to him.  He was warning them that this had to be a repentance from the heart and not just for show, because the time of the Messiah will be a time when the works of all will be laid bare.  Therefore, it will not be enough to say “I am a son of Abraham” (for God, as John pointed out, can raise up sons of Abraham from the rocks!).  Rather, each must prove their repentance by their good works.  So we see, his call to repentance was not just a preparation to celebrate the day of the Messiah’s coming, but rather it was a call to prepare to live in a world that had been radically changed by his coming.  Those who fail to do so will find themselves at odds with the Lord: perhaps even “cut down at the root”, like a tree that produces no fruit.

          Saint Paul, who knew of Christ's first coming, anxiously anticipated his return and so continued to teach the first Christians: “Do not turn back to your old ways!  That world is over, the new one is here and is still coming.  Therefore, you must live now as if you are already there in its fullness.  You’ve been preparing for so long.  Now, everything has changed and so you must live differently as if the world of peace and harmony about which Isaiah prophesied has already been realized among us.  In fact,” he seems to say, “your community ought to be a place of encounter with this fulfillment.”

          Thus, Saint Paul prays that God will give them the grace to “think in harmony with one another” so that “with one accord [they] may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.”  Then… then they will be the “signal for the nations” that “the Gentiles shall seek out”, as Isaiah prophesied, and God’s salvation will be extended to all people.

          We recount these readings here today because our task is still the same as it was for the Christians of the first century.  If we are truly anticipating the world that Isaiah prophesied about, then we must be living like Saint Paul taught the Roman Christians.  In order to do that, we need to turn away from our sin, like Saint John the Baptist calls us to do.  Most especially, we need to make sacrifices (such as fasting and praying) during this time of preparation so that we are ready not only to celebrate the anniversary of Christ’s birth on Christmas Day, but also to live as renewed Christians who are still anxious for his coming in the days that follow it.

          This, of course, is hard to do in a culture that is quick to jump to the celebration of Christmas.  One must have discipline and a spirit of penitence to resist the temptation to celebrate before the day of celebration.  This is a holy and grace-filled time of year, however, and so my prayer for all of you is that you can resist this temptation and so let your anticipation grow; so that it might stretch and strengthen you to live with renewed joy the coming celebration.

          May the Lord’s coming to us that we experience here in this Holy Eucharist help us to take up this good work of preparation so that the fulfillment of what we anticipate—that is, true harmony among all creation—might be realized now, in our time.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – December 3^rd and 4^th, 2016

Less hastags and more martyrs

Homily: 33^rd Sunday of Ordinary Time – Cycle B

          In the early 1600’s, French Jesuit Jean de Brebeuf left France for the un-tamed wilderness of North America in order to proclaim the Gospel to the people of the Huron tribe in what is now the south-east part of Ontario, Canada.  He left a rather comfortable life in which he had everything he could ask for: a secure and clean home, food to spare, an excellent education, and the opportunity to work among his people proclaiming the Good News to them, and he travelled to a place where he had none of that.  He slept on a crude mat on the ground in a rough-shod shelter that was constantly filled with smoke from the heating fire because there was no ventilation.  He barely had food enough to sustain him and his education was all but useless as he struggled to communicate with a people whose language was completely different from his own.  All of this and the constant threat that a roving band of Iroquois—who were intent on killing any Huron or French person that they encountered—would attack them.

          Yet, John de Brebeuf was undisturbed.  He had a zeal for the souls of the Huron people and he longed for them to know Christ.  In one of his journals he wrote: “How I grieve, my God, that you are not known, that this savage country is not yet wholly converted to faith in you, that sin is not yet blotted out!”  He strove to learn their language.  In fact, it is because of him that we have any written record of the Huron language!  He loved them and he wouldn’t be turned away from this mission on which, he believed, God had sent him.  When he wrote to Isaac Jogues, his fellow Jesuit back in France, to prepare him to join him in his mission, he said: “You must love these Huron, ransomed by the blood of the Son of God, as brothers.”

          In 1649 the Huron village in which Jean de Brebeuf was living was attacked by Iroquois.  The Huron insisted that Jean and his companion Gabriel flee the village and survive. They refused to leave their beloved Huron and instead endured horrific tortures at the hands of the Iroquois (Jean for 4 hours, Gabriel for 16 hours) before they died.  Over the nearly 25 years that he served the Huron nation, Jean de Brebeuf made over 7000 converts to the faith.  He never lost his zeal for their souls and his burning desire that all Native Americans would know Christ.

          As we approach the end of the Liturgical Year, the readings for Mass begin to focus on the “end times”: that is, Jesus’ second coming, the final judgment, and what it will be like leading up to that day.  They are all very graphic in describing the great tribulation that will precede the final judgment, but they all stop short of giving us a clear indication of when we can expect this all to happen.  It wouldn’t be hard to look at things that are happening here and now—most notably the horrible terrorist attacks in Paris last/Friday night—and to think to ourselves “What’s the hold up, Jesus?”  This is certainly a time of great trial and tribulation and so we can, perhaps, wonder “What is he waiting for?”

          Now, although I’ve never read anything to support my opinion, I’ve never read anything that refutes it, either, so I’m going to share with you my thoughts on when we can expect Jesus’ second coming.  In the second reading, from the letter to the Hebrews, the author says that the “eternal high priest” (he’s speaking of Jesus) has offered “one sacrifice for sins, and [has taken] his seat forever at the right hand of God”; and that “now he waits until his enemies are made his footstool” (other translations word it “he waits until his enemies are placed beneath his feet”).  Whenever I read this passage, I am struck by the fact that there seems to be a condition placed on Jesus’ waiting: “until his enemies are made his footstool”.  Now, we know that Jesus didn’t want worldly power, but rather the salvation of souls and the conquering of all sin; and so what else can he mean by “his enemies are made his footstool” than “everyone is converted to Christ and is free from sin”?  (Probably a lot of things, I’m sure, but this is the one that I just can’t escape.)

          Thus, my opinion, perhaps, isn’t so much an opinion about when Jesus will come as much as it is an opinion about how to hasten his coming.  Sin and those who cause men to sin are Jesus’ enemies.  Thus, to be converted and to leave off sin in the name of Jesus is to put Jesus’ enemies “beneath his feet”.  The sooner, therefore, that all of Jesus’ enemies are placed beneath his feet, the sooner Jesus will return to make his final judgment and, thus, usher in his kingdom of light, happiness, and peace.  Thus, to state it simply, if we want to be done with this world in which suffering, trial, and tribulation afflicts us—if we want to be done with senseless attacks like the ones that just happened in Paris—then we ought to be intensely focused on defeating sin, both within ourselves and in others, and on leading to conversion anyone not yet converted to Christ.

          In the Gospel reading, Jesus exhorts his disciples not to ignore the meaning of the tribulations that were coming.  Just as they would know that summer was near when leaves started sprouting on fig trees, so too, after these tribulations, they should know that his second coming will be upon them.  The attacks in Paris demonstrate that the Evil One is working to destroy God’s children, perhaps before they could become his friends, and so we must see this as the sign that now is our time to act.  If we have, in any way, neglected our mission to purify our lives from sin and to help others to do the same, then we must act now.  Our world is in desperate need of martyrs like Saints Jean de Brebeuf, Gabriel Lalement, and the other North American Martyrs: men and women whose love of Christ and zeal for souls was so great that even the real possibility of horrific torture and death wouldn’t stop them from proclaiming this Good News and, thus, bringing the day of Christ closer by placing more of Jesus’ enemies beneath his feet.

          My brothers and sisters, the enemies of Christ still abound.  If we wish to hasten his coming and thus end this time of suffering and tribulation, then we need less hashtags and more martyrs.  Mary, Our Mother, has spent her eternity as a missionary: appearing wherever there has been great trial and tribulation, or when there has been a great need/opportunity for conversions, in order to call all of God’s children to repentance.  May her prayers guide and protect us as we strive to continue that mission in our own lives and in the lives of those around us.  And may Jesus, who comes to us in this Eucharist, strengthen us to fulfill it.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – November 14^th & 15^th, 2015

Rejoice! The end is near!

          The third week of Advent is upon us, which means that the end is near!  Are you ready?  No, not for Christmas, but for the second coming of Christ!  Christmas will come and we will be ready enough, but if this time hasn't helped us to prepare for Christ's second coming, then we haven't used this time well.  Go to confession.  Pray.  Then look with expectant hope for Jesus to come again in glory.  Then will you be able to rejoice, because the end is near.

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Homily: 3^rd Sunday of Advent – Cycle B

          In one form or another, we all have probably seen them.  I call them “sandwich board prophets.”  You know, the ones who walk through city streets or stand on street corners wearing a sandwich board sign that in big, hand-painted letters reads “The end is near!”  These folks will tell you that they are reading the “signs of the times”—that is, they are interpreting current events—and that these indicate that the end of civilization as we know it—or, perhaps, even the end of the universe itself—is very near.  It can be an unsettling message for someone just going about their day; one that can leave him or her feeling rather uncomfortable.

          However you may have seen them (if not in real life then depicted in films or in TV shows or on the news), they almost always have the appearance of someone who isn’t quite connected with mainstream culture.  These folks usually look pretty disheveled: long, unkempt hair, ratty clothes, a scraggly beard (on men), and a look in their eyes that makes you question who’s really there behind them.  Thus, in spite of their discomfiting message (or, perhaps, because of it), you find it easy to shrug them off.  And why?  Well, because he or she looks… what?  Crazy! Yep, they’re crazy.  Because if they’re crazy then we can forget about what they are trying to tell us and go on with our comfortable lives.

          A couple of millennia ago, a man named John came from a little hill town of Judea and began to proclaim an uncomfortable message to the people of Judah.  “Repent”, he said, “and be baptized, for a mighty one, the Lord’s anointed, is coming!”  This man John was crying out in a deserted place, outside of Jerusalem.  The author of the Gospel of Mark tells us that “he was clothed in camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist” and that “he fed on locusts and wild honey.”  It certainly doesn’t stretch the imagination to think that this John would look right at home on a street corner in New York City with a sandwich board sign on his shoulders reading “The end is near!” (Perhaps this is where the modern sandwich board prophets got their look.)

          John’s message was certainly uncomfortable for many.  Unlike our modern examples of sandwich board prophets, however, people were actually listening to John’s message and they were coming to be baptized by him in the Jordan River.  Thus, in spite of the fact that many, perhaps, wanted to sign him off as crazy, the people of Judah were forced to take him seriously.  And so, as we heard today from the Gospel of John, the Jewish leaders in Jerusalem sent a delegation of priests and Levites (that is, men from the priestly tribe of Levi) to find out who he was.  John’s message was uncomfortable and so they needed a way to make sense of it and, perhaps, to explain it away.

          John, however, eludes their categories.  First, John straightly admits that he is not the Christ.  He would not allow even the slightest bit of speculation to be circulated about that question.  Then, they ask if he is Elijah, the prophet, who, it was believed, would appear again just before the Messiah would come.  But, in spite of the fact that, in Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus himself will say that John is Elijah, John denies it.  Next the priests and Levites ask if he is the Prophet (that is, the one who Moses predicted would arise after him).  Again, John denies it.  Frustrated, they finally give in and say “Just tell us, because we have to have something to tell the religious leaders back in Jerusalem!”  To this John gives an enigmatic answer: “I am a voice crying out… Prepare!”  The Jewish leaders wanted another category in which to put him so that they might feel more comfortable with him; but he defied their categorization.

          John, however, seems to have seen himself as fulfilling a prophesy of Isaiah; and thus sharing in the same “anointing of God’s spirit” that Isaiah claimed to have in our first reading.  Isaiah’s message was something much more joyful; for he claimed that he was sent “to announce a year of favor from the Lord”, in which those who suffer would be freed from their suffering.  This was a very joyful message for those who heard it and many of the people of Israel rejoiced with him for having proclaimed it.

          Each of us has been anointed with God’s Spirit.  In our baptism, we were cleansed of sin and became children of God: temples of God’s Holy Spirit.  In Confirmation, the Gift of the Holy Spirit was sealed within us, strengthening us to announce Good News to the people of the world.  (Our Brother, Tim, is about to receive this sealing as he is received into full communion with the Church.)  Because each of us has been anointed and sealed with God’s Holy Spirit in this way, we are each called to make some proclamation in our lives.  Some of us, like Isaiah in today’s reading, may feel like we have been given a joyful message that the end of suffering is upon us because of the death and resurrection of Jesus our Savior.  Others, like John, may feel like we have been given a discomfiting message: the call to repentance because the time of the Lord’s return is near.  In reality, however, these two calls often interchange through the different seasons of our lives.  Nevertheless, the call to proclaim these messages as Good News remains unchanging.

          Therefore, my brothers and sisters, let us acknowledge today that each of us is called to be a “sandwich board prophet”, because each of us, through our baptism and confirmation, has been anointed with the Lord’s Spirit to proclaim the coming age of the end of suffering and thus to call all people to repent—that is to turn away from their worldly comfort—so as to prepare for the coming of the Mighty One, the Lord’s Anointed, Jesus, Our Savior, who is coming after us and who surely is coming soon.  What’s that?  Sure.  Go ahead and clothe yourself in camel’s hair if that helps inspire you to take up your call; but it’s not necessary.  All that’s needed is a love of our Lord Jesus and a fervent desire that everyone else would know and love him, too.  (And, by the way, if you’re missing either of these things, then seek the Lord in prayer and ask him to draw near, most especially here in the Holy Eucharist: for He surely will.)

          Let us, then, take up this call (and our sandwich board, if necessary) and proclaim the coming of our Lord.  For when we do, we will acknowledge that the end is truly near and we will hasten the Lord’s coming; thus hastening the time when we will truly know what it means to rejoice.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – December 14^th, 2014