Reflection on Salvation: Life in the Spirit Seminar

Note: A  few days ago I gave a reflection on Salvation at a parish "Life in the Spirit" Seminar. I'd given the talk on several previous occasions but made quite a few changes this year. Anyway, my talk follows. (Please pardon any typos. No time to proofread today.)     

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Praise God! Praise Father, Son, and Holy Spirit!

When Deacon Dick Stevens accosted me and asked me to speak at this Life in the Spirit Seminar, I said, “Well…Okay. But what do I have to do?” His response? “Talk about ‘Salvation.’”

My first thought? “Well, that’s a nice concise, well-defined topic – let’s see, our sole reason for being, the entirety of our human existence.“

Then he said something like, “No more than 30 minutes.” Of course, it was more than month away, so I really didn’t think much about it. But a few days ago, I realized time was running out. Then I remembered speaking on salvation at one of these seminars some years ago.

Sadly, though, my home PC died a while back and I lost a lot of my homilies and talks, including my earlier talks on salvation. All I could find was a brief outline. So, I had no choice and turned to the Holy Spirit, praying for inspiration. I figure if anyone can give us the Word of Salvation He can.

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I’ll begin with a couple of questions.

Do you believe that God will save everyone?

OK, let me rephrase it.

Do you believe God can save everyone?

Ah, that’s better.

After all, we can’t deny that all things are possible for God.

After all, we pray for that all the time, don’t we?

At the conclusion of yesterday’s Mass, Fr. Glen prayed the “Prayer after Communion.” Yet, how often do we really pay attention to the words? Here’s what he prayed in our name:

O God, who have willed that we be partakers
in the one Bread and the one Chalice,
grant us, we pray, so to live
that, made one in Christ,
we may joyfully bear fruit
for the salvation of the world.
Through Christ our Lord.

And we all responded with, “Amen.”

Don’t you just love that?

“…that…we may joyfully bear fruit for the salvation of the world.”

And yet, how many of us look at the world joyfully, especially today, and want God to save everyone? Do any of you pray the Rosary? Recall that little prayer we say after each decade? Join me…

“Oh, my Jesus, forgive us our sins and save us from the fires of hell. Lead all souls to Heaven, especially those in most need of Thy mercy.”

“Lead all souls to heaven…” Yep, we pray for that, too, don’t we? The irony here is that most Christians really don’t believe that could ever happen…sort of an “OK, God, yeah, You can do it; but You won’t.” If we really think that way, why do we pray for it?

You see, we should believe that God will find a way to bring everyone to salvation. Wouldn’t that be wonderful. Will He really do that? I haven’t a clue, simply because I’m not God. We do, however, know that God wants this. As St. Peter reminded us:

“The Lord does not delay his promise, as some regard ‘delay,’ but he is patient with you, not wishing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance.” [2 Pt 3:9]

And Paul, too, writing to Timothy, tells us:

“This is good and pleasing to God our savior, who wills everyone to be saved and to come to knowledge of the truth” [1 Tim 2:3-4]

I find it interesting that Peter joins salvation with coming to “repentance”, while Paul connects salvation with coming to “knowledge of the truth.” But I really think they’re the same thing. For Paul, the overwhelming truth about humanity is that we are sinners. And what do sinners need? Exactly what Peter says, “Repentance.”

I begin with this just to remind you (and me) that God is infinitely more powerful than we could ever imagine. You and I, trapped in time and space, too often place our God in a similar box. We know He creates, redeems, forgives, loves…yes, His greatness, His power, His love…it’s all far beyond our comprehension.

God created us in His image and likeness, but that’s so very hard to live up to. How can we? So we instead create God into our image and turn Him into a big version of ourselves. And  then we read the Gospels and all those passages, the words of Jesus, that seem to tell us a lot of folks won’t be saved.

How did the risen Jesus put it to the Apostles? 

“Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved; whoever does not believe will be condemned” [Mk 16:16] 

That seems pretty clear, doesn’t it? And Jesus says similar things elsewhere in the Gospels. One thing we know for sure, again because Jesus told us:

“I am the way, the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father except through me” [Jn 14:6].

And so, Jesus is the means of salvation. Does that eliminate all but Christians? What’s it all mean? For me it means two things:

1. I don’t know the mind of God, so all I can do is struggle to do as He tells us: “Repent, and believe in the Gospel.” Repentance and faith.

2. He wants all to be saved, so I must do what ever I can to lead others to the saving grace the Holy Spirit will shower on anyone who comes to Jesus, through Him.

In truth, when we get right down to the ditty-gritty, it means something different to each one of us. You and I are each on a unique journey to salvation.

Let me begin by describing my own journey to salvation, to life in the Spirit, a journey that began long ago, but reached its peak when I married Diane. Dear Diane, brought up a Southern Baptist, had spent time among the Methodists, and during her college years settled in with the Pentecostals. It was then that she experienced a Baptism in the Holy Spirit.

By the time we married, she had converted to Catholicism. When I proposed to her, she asked, "You know, I speak in tongues...does that bother you?"

A few years later, living in Monterey, California, she encouraged me to attend a Life in the Spirit Seminar put on by our parish’s charismatic prayer group. And not long after that I experienced my own vivid Baptism in the Spirit, an event that completely changed me and ultimately led me to the diaconate.

Anyway, about five years after this, I guess it was about 45 years ago, Diane and I and three of our little ones (I think she was pregnant with Brendan, number four) were enjoying a day at the San Diego Zoo when we were approached by a couple of teens, a boy and a girl.

They were members of a strange cult, popular in Southern California at the time. As I recall, they called themselves the “Children of God”. They handed me one of their tracts and then the boy asked me, “Are you saved?”

I simply replied, “Yes, I hope so, but I’m still working on it.”

I don’t think they knew what to make of that response, and so the girl said, “If you’re saved, you’re saved. That’s all there is to it.”

This, of course, was a challenge, so told them I was just relying on the Holy Spirit and following St. Paul‘s advice to the Philippians:

“…work out your salvation with fear and trembling” [Phil 2:12].

I was used to coming to the Spirit for help, so I did, and He led me to Jesus’ words in Luke

"For the holy Spirit will teach you at that moment what you should say” [Lk 12:12]

and again in John:

"He will teach you everything…” [Jn 14:26]

In effect the Holy Spirit told oly Spirit tols Hme not to be consumed by worry. And one day in prayer I heard these words, heard them just as clearly you’re hearing my words now:

“…Stay close to me,” he said.

Anyway, the boy couldn’t help himself and said, “Well, Paul was wrong. Jesus told us not to fear.” They then scooted off to accost someone else.

Of course, Paul wasn’t wrong; they were. St. Paul and Jesus were speaking of two very different fears. Paul wasn’t speaking of the servile fear of the slave, or the fear of punishment. He was speaking, instead, of a reverential fear that moves us to do God’s will because of our love for Him.

It’s that miraculous gift of the Holy Spirit, the “fear of the Lord” that is a true reflection of reality. It’s a sense of reverence and awe at the majesty of God and a healthy revulsion at the very thought of sinning against Him. But the Incarnation alters things a bit. By becoming one of us Jesus narrows the vast gulf between God and us. He becomes our brother.

In Scripture we’re told not to fear again and again. But it’s a different kind of fear: a fear of the things of this world. This is the fear we must abandon, for it keeps us from a personal and trusting relationship with Jesus Christ. If we’re afraid of the world, how can we trust in Jesus? And so many today are afraid. Let me give you an example.

On the evening of September 11, 2001, I had an appointment to bless a parishioner’s home. We were personal friends. When I arrived John asked me to speak with his wife, who wouldn’t leave the kitchen. The events of that day had crippled her with fear, the wrong kind, a fear of the world and its evils. Her fear was almost paralytic. We talked and prayed and turned to God’s Word, and her fears eased a bit. But it was weeks before she left her house and even went to church.

We’ve all experienced fear to some extent; it’s part of the human condition. As a Navy pilot in wartime, I encountered my share of scary situations, times when fear could easily rise up and take control. Of course, one good thing about being a pilot in bad times is that you're so busy, just trying to keep the aircraft flying and staying alive. I really didn’t have time to fear. That came later.

But I always turned to the Holy Spirit in trust, and told Him, “It’s yours, guide me, lead me.” And do you know something? He always did.

But what does all this talk about fear have to do with our salvation? Actually, quite a lot. My mom and dad ran a little Bible Study of sorts every Saturday morning. Mt dad, the colonel, called them "staff meetings." At one of those sessions, Mom asked us: “How do you get to heaven?”

I was probably 10 or 11. My older brother and I had never thought much about this, so we gave rather standard answers: obey the commandments; go to Church on Sunday; give part of our allowance to the Church. I think I added, “Don’t pick on your little brother.” All practical answers, but not very useful. We really hadn’t a clue.

Mom finally said, “Boys, you can’t earn your way to heaven. That’s not how it works.”

She opened our family Bible and turned to Luke’s Gospel, and read this passage from chapter 23:

Now one of the criminals hanging there reviled Jesus, saying, “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us.”

The other, however, rebuking him, said in reply, “Have you no fear of God, for you are subject to the same condemnation?

And indeed, we have been condemned justly, for the sentence we received corresponds to our crimes, but this man has done nothing criminal.”

Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

He replied to him, “Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

I’ve always found this to be one of the more fascinating passages in the Gospels.

Two criminals. Were they thieves or murderers? We don’t know. Luke simply says they were criminals and apparently they believed they deserved their punishment.

The first simply mocked Jesus:  If you’re the Messiah, save yourself and us. Did he believe Jesus was the Messiah? No, not likely.

The other criminal has a name, Dismas. Actually, his name appears in an apocryphal books, among them, The Gospel of Nicodemus and it seemed to stick. And so, we’ll use it. Dismas utters only three sentences, but three remarkable sentences. The first:

“Have you no fear of God, for you are subject to the same condemnation?

In responding to the other criminal, he simultaneously responds to the Holy Spirit who has blessed him here, in his last moments of life, with a gift: fear of the Lord.

Yes, the Spirit is within him, the indwelling that Paul tells us will lead us to salvation. Dismas then makes an act of contrition, an act of true repentance

“…we have been condemned justly, for the sentence we received corresponds to our crimes, but this man has done nothing criminal.”

Indeed, Dismas confesses -- we have sinned and are receiving a just, earthy punishment -- but this Jesus, He is no criminal, for He is something much greater than any of us.

Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

And here Dismas knows he’s been forgiven, even before Jesus says a word`. You see, the Spirit has also given him the gift of faith. He knows that Jesus Christ is King and redeemer of the world. And he simply asks for salvation.

Jesus’ reply is brief, dramatic, all-encompassing, a divine, on-the-spot canonization:

“Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

There is some conflict about this statement: the placement of the comma before or after “today.” But I prefer the way it's stated above.

Do you see the process here, what leads Jesus to call Dismas to salvation? Faith, acceptance of our sinfulness, true repentance, love of God…It’s really all of one piece, wrapped up in those three theological virtues of faith, hope and love.

Faith, we are told is a gift, a gratuitous gift; and I think we can all accept this, since in our sinfulness we certainly don’t deserve any gifts. But this is where the Holy Spirit steps in, for He is the gift-giver. He’s the source of that desire, that need for God, that movement within us, which opens us to the gift.

He rends our hearts; He tears open the human heart so Father and Son can dwell there. Speaking with the twelve the night before He died, Jesus told them:

“Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him” [Jn 14:23].

This indwelling is the work of the Holy Spirit, for Jesus had already told the apostles:

“The Father…will give you another Advocate to be with you always, the Spirit of truth…it remains with you, and will be in you” [Jn 14:16-17].

Yes, the Spirit, the Advocate, does God’s work in the world, and He does God’s work in each of us. I sometimes refer to the Holy Spirit as God’s Workhorse. It’s just a metaphor. He does God’s work in the world, the behind-the-scenes manifestation of God’s Presence.

Every Sunday, we come together and proclaim the Nicene Creed aloud, confirming the totality of our faith. And in doing so we utter those words:

“I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life…”

What life? Well, the Creed doesn’t qualify it, or give exceptions. The Holy Spirit is the giver of all life. He is the giver of our bodily, earthly, material life and the giver of eternal life. He stands abreast that path to salvation, calling us, directing us.

And so, with this in mind, let’s return to Dismas. Filled with the Spirit, and with the hope He offers, he’s moved to confess to Jesus. As my mother used to say, “Faith fuels our hope.” And hope moves us, drives us, despite our fears, despite everything the world throws at us.

Did Dismas fear? Well, fear of death might be there, but I think that was now behind him. There he was surrounded by those who despised him. And yet it was all overshadowed, crushed by the love of Jesus from the Cross. Only Jesus showed him love.

Because he had accepted the Spirit’s gift of faith, a supernatural gift that dissolves all fear, that instills hope, a gift that calls us to trust, that calls us to a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.

It was through his acceptance of that gift that the Holy Spirit moved Dismas to repentance, gave him hope, allowed him to accept the forgiveness Jesus offered and revealed to him the divine person of Jesus...one divine gift after another, all leading to salvation.

Do you see what happened here? The Spirit revealed several things to Dismas:

• He is a sinner, but forgiveness is available to him; he need only repent;
• The Lord, Jesus Christ, is the very source of forgiveness;
• His hope is real, forgiveness is his. Salvation awaits.

He believes, he repents, he’s forgiven, he loves, and he is saved.

Through this simple process of faith, repentance, forgiveness, and love Jesus offers Dismas the gift of salvation:

“…today you will be with me in Paradise.”

Salvation is his eternal reward. But that’s not all. There’s also a temporal reward. He adds the word, “today.” And so, today it happens for you, today here in this world…yes, today becomes an eternal day in paradise.

That’s what I learned from my mom when I was probably 11 years old.

Now, some Christians consider salvation a one-time experience in the life of the Christian – that we need only accept Jesus in faith as our Lord and Savior and we are saved…no matter what

Such a teaching, however, ignores the reality of human life, of human nature itself. It also ignores a lot of what Jesus told us. You see, sad as it is, you and I remain sinners, constantly in need of repentance and forgiveness, called to love until our last breath, called, as Paul reminds us, to work out our salvation with fear and trembling.

Salvation is a gift, one demanding more than intellectual and emotional acceptance. It demands continual acceptance, confronting us with a choice: We can reject the gift, turn away from God, either out of fear of the worldly consequences, or out of despair because of the magnitude of our sinfulness. Or we can accept the gift and turn to Him in love.

This demands a radical change, an abandonment of the life that precedes it. Once again Dismas shows us the way. Dismas ignores the other criminal, he who mocks God, the one Satan used to turn him from Jesus, and though his sins are many, he doesn’t despair.

The Spirit had revealed to him what Jesus had taught his disciples when He referred to Himself as the Good Shepherd:

“I am the gate. Whoever enters through me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. A thief comes only to steal and slaughter and destroy; I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly” [Jn 10:9-10].

Understanding this, Dismas turns to Jesus in complete trust, just as sheep trust their shepherd. Given abundant life, he offers the only thing he can: his faith and his love. He’s made a decision to change, to accept God’s gift of forgiveness, to accept with a humility that most of us can only imagine.

You see, brothers and sisters, salvation demands a living faith. And the path to salvation is the path of discipleship. The call of the disciple is to follow Jesus. Dismas, then, becomes the ultimate disciple, who follows Jesus right through the gates of heaven.

Let me add another saint who goes against the grain, and reminds me of St. Dismas, another man most of us would never expect to be a canonized saint. 

His name is Andries (Andrew) Wouters, and I'd never heard of him until a few months ago. A Benedictine monk gave me his prayer card and a few days later I was told by my doctor I'd need surgery for a pesky hernia.

Anyway, I decided to do a little research and discovered that Wouters, born in the Netherlands in 1542, was ordained a priest but lived a scandalous life. A known womanizer, he was known to have fathered several children with different women.

During the Dutch revolt against the Spanish, a Calvinist rebel group set themselves up to battle the Catholic Church in the Netherlands. In June 1572, the town of Gorkum fell to the Calvinists and the rebels captured nine Franciscan friars, two lay brothers, along with several parish priests, including Wouters.

Imprisoned at Gorkum from 26 June to 6 July 1572, the nineteen were moved to Brielle, arriving on 8 July. Ordered to abandon their belief in Transubstantiation, and Papal supremacy, all refused to renounce the faith. All 19 martyrs, hanged that July from the roof of a turf-shed.

Wouters' last words were remarkable: "Fornicator I always was; heretic I never was.” He had confessed his sins to one of the other priests.

A century after their deaths, after many miracles attributed to their intercession, particularly the curing of hernias, the 19 martyrs were beatified. They were canonized in 1867 by Pope Pius IX. Their relics are in the Church of Saint Nicholas in Brussels, Belgium.

What a wonderful example to all those plagued by their earlier sins. St. Andrew Wouters, pray for us. When the evil one reminds us of past failings, help us to recall that Christ has already conquered sin and death, and that we only need to remain in Him to be saved.

Salvation is a gift of joy. It’s the Good News, given to us and received by us. I’m pretty sure Deacon Dick will agree with me. At Mass when I go to the ambo to proclaim the Gospel or preach, and look up at the thousand faces before me, I often have to search for a happy face.

Here I am about to proclaim the Good News and it looks as if they’ve all just received bad news. The Good News is salvation itself, and we must live its acceptance as joyful Christians. How can there be any other kind of Christian? And from what source do we receive this additional gift of joy? St. Paul reveals it, as he completes his letter to the Romans:

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit” [Rom 15:13]

That certainly sums it all up, doesn’t it?

And how blessed we are today…because we have the Church, her sacraments, and her graces. When we decide to turn to God in trust, we too are saved: by rejecting Satan and sin; by praying in and with the Holy Spirit and being open to His movement in our lives; by active participation in the Church’s sacramental life; and by extending God’s love to all.

These are no less than the promises that define our sacramental Baptism.

Let me leave you tonight with the words of St. Jude, in perhaps the least read little book of the New Testament, when he calls us to:

“Pray in the Holy Spirit; keep yourselves in the love of God; wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life” [Jude 20-21].

God love you all.

My Jesse Jackson Encounter

Although Rev. Jesse Jackson and I likely disagreed on as much as we agreed, I was very sorry to hear of his death. Some months ago, a friend, who knew Jackson well, told me that the civil rights leader was quite ill. He went on to say he expected Jackson wouldn't survive very long. It seems he was correct. Again, I am sorry and will add Jackson to my prayers, asking that he be blessed by our loving God's forgiveness and mercy.

I met Rev. Jackson only once, and quite briefly. It must be 25 to 30 years ago. I was part of a busload of parishioners from our Cape Cod parish. We had traveled to Washington, DC for the annual March for Life in cold, bleak January. 

We spent the night in a very nice hotel (I've forgotten the name), and that evening as I walked through the lobby I saw Rev. Jackson just a few feet away, chatting with someone. Naturally, I couldn't resist, so I approached and when the other person walked away, I simply said, "Reverend Jackson, are you planning to join all of us on the March for Life?" Surprised, perhaps by the question or perhaps just by me, he replied with a shake of his head and then added, "No, I have meetings to attend." I think at that point he realized I was nobody special, so he just smiled, and began to turn away. So I said, "Well, we'll pray for you, Reverend. God bless you." He smiled again but said nothing else. I don't believe he was actively pro-life.

Thus ended my one and only interaction with the Rev. Jesse Jackson. And so, as I said to him back then, I will pray for him.

Homily: Tuesday, 2nd Week in Ordinary Time - Year 2

Readings: 1 Sam 16:1-13 • Psalm 89 • : Mk 2:23-28

What a wonderful Gospel passage, where Mark clearly shows the New Testament fulfilling the Old. 

Mark tells us that Jesus and the disciples were walking through a wheat field on the Sabbath; and as they walked the disciples picked the heads of grain and ate them.

Several places in Exodus, Leviticus, and Deuteronomy apply here. In fact, the Law allows the gleaning, or picking grain from another’s field [Dt 23:25], but only with your hand. Pick just enough to satisfy your hunger. You can’t roll through someone else’s field with a combine. Then there are the Ten Commandments, requiring the observation of the Sabbath day by doing no work [Ex 20:10; Dt 5:12-15].

The Pharisees, of course, were shadowing Jesus, intent on finding fault, so they challenged Him, asking why His disciples were violating the Law. As usual, they interpreted the Law narrowly, but Jesus, as usual, turned the tables on them.

Jesus began by criticizing their ignorance of Scripture: “Have you not read what David did…?” Here He referred to the 1^st Book of Samuel. David and his companions were fleeing King Saul. Hungry, David approached the priests of the sanctuary at Nob and requested bread. But the only bread available was the Bread of the Presence, which, by Law, was reserved for priests alone [Lev 24:9]. But Abiathar, the high priest, gave the bread to David. In his anger, Saul later slaughtered the priests at Nob, not because he thought they had violated the Law, but because they had helped David.

Jesus uses this event to explain the true meaning of the Sabbath, that the letter of the Law is not more important than helping those in real need. The letter of the Law might be violated, but not the good the Law intends. Jesus summed it up:

“The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath” [Mk 2:27].

God instituted the Sabbath, Jesus reminded the Pharisees, not for its own sake, but for our benefit. For Jesus the deepest intention of the Law is not to bind us but to set us free. How did He put it? The truth will set you free. When you think about it, this isn’t surprising. Surely God wants to set you and me free: our freedom is God's gift. Did not Jesus come “to set captives free” (Lk 4:18)?

And then Our Lord said something remarkable:

“The Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath” [Lk 6:5].

Mark doesn’t reveal the Pharisees’ reaction to these words, but they must have been horrified. For them this was blasphemy. Using the Messianic title “Son of Man” was bad enough, but He also claimed the divine title, “Lord of the Sabbath.” Yes, Jesus in effect proclaimed His divinity, as He who gave the Law to Israel, the Lord of the Sabbath, with authority over the Law, over creation.

In our first reading from 1 Samuel, we encounter the young David, a shepherd, the seventh and least likely of Jesse’s sons. And yet, he is God’s choice. He will become the greatest of the kings of God’s People, and a type of Jesus Himself.

This is the David Jesus praises to the Pharisees who have conveniently forgotten the true meaning of God’s Law, the David who act points a thousand years ahead to the Lord of the Sabbath.

Perhaps, you and I should consider how we celebrate the Sabbath, the day on which we proclaim Jesus’ glorious Resurrection. Other than taking part in a vigil or Sunday Mass, what do we do to keep the day holy? Is it just another day to spend on the golf course, or in front of the TV?

Or do we take time to help those who are far from free, perhaps the lonely, the homebound neighbor with no family and few friends, someone who yearns for a visit and for words of kindness.

And like the disciples, do we also take some time to walk with Jesus, to talk with Jesus, to pray with Jesus on the day He has declared holy?

  

Homily: 2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year A

Readings: Is 49:3,5-6; Ps 40; 1 Cor 1-3; Jn 1:29-34

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Did you notice one of the common themes running through all our readings today: the idea that God always seems to be calling people to do all kinds of stuff for Him.

We heard it in our first reading when God calls the prophet Isaiah – heck, He does more than that; He calls the entire nation of Israel – and He calls them to do what? Well, in His words, to “be a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.”

Wow! That’s kind of a heavy call, isn’t it? Especially since it was given to a bunch of people who tended to resist whatever He commanded them to do. Does He want that from us, too, from you and me? To be a “light to the nations?” Maybe. But how do we do it?

So, perhaps our second reading will tell us more. It’s from the opening verses of Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians. And what do we find there? Another call – actually, more than one.

Paul, referring to himself, and perhaps indirectly to all of us, says he’s called to be an “apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God.” Okay, what’s an apostle? Basically, it’s someone who’s been sent, sent by God.

Of course, we have the 12 Apostles, plus Paul, and I’ve always thought of them as Apostles with a capital "A". Maybe we’re called to be sent too, as apostles, but maybe with a little “a”. After all, those first Apostles were pretty important; but don't downplay your own importance. We're all called to do important things for God. 

But that’s not all; there’s more. Paul then tells us we’re called to be “holy.” Why? Because we “have been sanctified in Christ Jesus.” So, Jesus sanctified us, made us holy. And you know when He did that? At our baptism.

Our baptism made us holy because our sins were forgiven. Now if, like me, you were baptized as an infant, your only sin was original sin. But if you were baptized as an adult, all sin, original sin, actual sin – it was all forgiven.

What else? We became adopted children of the Father, sisters and brothers of our Lord Jesus. We were brought into God’s family. As Paul tells us, we can now approach Him as, “Abba, Father!”

We also received the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. The Spirit lives within us, and through His power we can resist sin, or as Paul would say, we can resist living “according to the flesh.”

Finally, Baptism makes us members of God’s Church, so we can take full advantage of the graces that flow from the Holy Spirit, through the sacraments, directly to us.

So far, then, we’ve been called to do quite a few things: Called to be a “light to the nations;” to be apostles of Christ Jesus, sent by God, but sent to do what? And we’re also called to be holy…But what does holiness involve? So, we still have some questions.

Maybe we can get answers from our other readings: the Responsorial Psalm and our Gospel passage. Let’s look at the Gospel first, from John, chapter 1. There we encounter John the Baptist – not the most attractive person in the world. Dressed like a caveman, he ate locusts and wild honey – not the kind of guy most of us would hang out with. And he wasn’t particularly open to discussion or a lot of dialog. Still, we’re drawn to him, aren’t we?

John was certainly called; he even tells us why:

“…the reason why I came baptizing with water was that He might be made known to Israel.”

He, of course, is Jesus Christ. Like Isaiah, John is a witness with a single focus. He just points to Jesus:

“Now I have seen and testified that He is the Son of God.”

Yes, John came to introduce Jesus to the world; and, boy, does John make Jesus known. Pointing to Jesus, he says, “Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.”

John calls Jesus “God’s lamb” – God’s sacrificial Lamb. That's what lambs were in the Temple, used for sacrifice.  So John is telling the world that Jesus, God’s Son, will be sacrificed in obedience to God’s will. Why? For one reason. To take away the sin of the world. With those few words, John prophesies Jesus’ redemptive act. And how shocked the Jews who heard those words must have been.

At that Baptism of Jesus, we encounter the Holy Spirit and hear the words of the Father; so, John introduces the world to the very centerpiece of Christian belief, the Holy Trinity. With that, we get a glimpse of what our redemption means: eternal life with Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Note, too, that John tells the crowd: Jesus will baptize with the Holy Spirit. As we’ve already seen, it’s through the gift of the Holy Spirit, through His power, that we can strive for the holiness God desires for us. Scripture, then, has taught us something else: God’s call to be holy is to live with the Holy Spirit dwelling within us, guiding us as we strive to live the Christian life.

A little, actually a not so little, aside...Did you notice that both Isaiah and John were called from the womb? Yes, God and the world see the unborn so differently, don’t they? God loves them and the world slaughters them. Yes, indeed, God calls us in many ways, doesn’t He?

But to understand better God’s call for us, let’s turn to our Psalm from the Old Testament, to the first words we heard and sang together:

Hear I am, Lord; I come to do Your will.

These words – “I come to do your will” – can also be found in the New Testament, in the Letter to the Hebrews when it quotes Jesus as saying:

“Behold, I have come to do your will, O God.”

So, another call, to imitate Jesus, by doing what? By doing the will of God. We’ve heard that before, too, haven’t we? Paul “called to be an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God.”

So, what’s God’s will? What does He will for us and from us? Paul actually tells us. Later, to the Thessalonians he writes: “This is the will of God, your sanctification…” Our sanctification, our holiness. You and I are called to be holy, something else we’ve heard before. But who are the holy ones? They're the saints. You see, you and I are called to be saints: holy children of God who do His will.

Speaking of saints, Augustine once said something pretty interesting that applies here: "Love God and then do what you will." Sounds a bit strange, almost contradictory. What he’s really saying is that if we truly love God and His will, then God’s will and ours will be the same.

It all has its roots in love, doesn’t it? It’s all based on God’s great commandment: to love God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength...Oh, and while we're at it, to trying loving each other – love our neighbor as ourselves – the foundation of the Christian life.

Yes, that’s our calling, every single one of us: to love and do God’s will. This, brothers and sisters, is the Christian life, the life God calls us to live.

Of course, Jesus never said it would be easy. But He did promise we’d never be alone, because His gift of His Spirit will always be there, always with us. Writing to the Romans, Paul reveals that we’re called to follow our Lord, Jesus, the crucified Messiah, as we journey through this hostile world.

Indeed, Paul continues by letting us know that the Christian life involves suffering. 

Now, I can’t speak for you, but I really don’t enjoy suffering. I mean, do you? I just got over a nasty virus that put me down for several weeks. So, I slept, drank liquids, took meds, read the Bible, watched some TV, surfed the Internet…And I kept encountering stories of the worldwide persecution of Christians; happening everywhere.

For example, in Nigeria tens of thousands of Christians have been murdered in recent years…simply because of their Christian faith. And there I was in my comfortable home in The Villages grumbling about a cold virus that let me goof off for a couple of weeks. All that, while many in the world are following in the footsteps of the crucified Messiah. Are we called to do the same? Maybe. Time will tell.

Scripture, the revealed Word of God, just shouts at us, doesn’t it? Created in God’s image and likeness, we’re called to be like Jesus, His Son. What does it mean, this likeness, this image we possess?

Is it our intelligence? Our free will? Our willingness to love? Or is it also our humanity, the power to imagine, to build, to shape the things of our world? I guess it’s all these things…plus the grace to suffer as Jesus suffered, to cry out to the Father from the depths of our own little Gethsemanes:

“Remove this cup…yet not my will but yours be done.”

You see, brothers and sisters, God works in our world, He plays in our world, He loves in our world, and He does so through His images, that us, His image and likeness, through you and me. You and I point to Christ by who we are, by being Christlike, by living as He lived, by doing what He did, and, yes, by suffering as He suffered.

How did Jesus put it?

“I do not seek my own will but the will of the one who sent me.”

I guess the question for each of us is: How are you and I pointing to Christ? How are we witnessing to Christ? Do we begin each day by praying:

“Father, help me to do your will in all things today. Help me to point to Jesus.”?

You’ll never get a better compliment than when someone says to you, “You remind me of someone…Oh, I know, you remind me of Jesus.”

Because that, dear friends, is our calling, our Christian vocation, the fruit of our baptism: to be Christlike.

And we have no excuse because through His gift of grace, he’s given us the power to do all that He asks, to abandon ourselves, to do His will, not ours.

Homily: 4th Sunday of Advent - Year A

Readings: Is 7:10-14 | Ps 24 | Rom 1:1-7 | Mt 1:18-24

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With Christmas just around the corner, I find myself thinking of my children and grandchildren, and how they view Christmas as a time of surprises. As a child, I was the same, and it doesn’t take much to carry me back to my own childhood. These days I can hardly remember what I did last week, but recall everything from 70 years ago. 

In my family the surprises began after Mass on the first Sunday of Advent. Mom would hang up advent calendars, and for the next four weeks, each morning we’d get to open one of the little windows and be surprised by what was behind it. I suppose it was a far simpler time; perhaps we were simpler children back then.

We lived in New York, so we prayed for surprise snowfalls. How great it was to wake up to a world transformed by a thick white blanket.

Every year Dad surprised us with a huge Christmas tree, anywhere from 12 to 18 feet high. We had a circular stairway, so we had a place that could handle a large tree. But a tree like that was expensive, so Dad would wait until about a week before Christmas when the dealers would sell it at half price. Every year, just when we thought we’d never get a tree, Dad would arrive with an enormous tree tied to the roof of the Oldsmobile.

Mom decorated the house with all sorts of wonderful things. Many had been in the family for generations. It was always the same, but a surprise, nonetheless.

And I can still remember my surprise when my parents decided I was old enough to attend Midnight Mass. I was probably seven or eight years old, but that first year I fell asleep in the pew during Monsignor Deagan’s Christmas homily.

Of course, there was Christmas morning, and the opening of the presents…and not just our own. We loved watching our parents’ surprise as they opened the remarkably useless gifts we had given them.

Yes, Christmas has always been a time of surprises, and rightly so, because the Incarnation itself was God’s surprise gift to humanity. We see this manifested in the Old Testament in some of the earliest hints, the prophecies, of a Messiah. 

Today's first reading is a perfect example. There we encounter King Ahaz, not one of Judah’s better kings, for he always chose political expediency over faith in God. The prophet Isaiah, more than a little upset with Ahaz, tossed this gem of a prophecy at him and us:

“…the virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall name him Emmanuel.”

Talk about surprises! A virgin bearing a son! What did the people think of that? We don’t know, but we can guess. And that name: Emmanuel! God is with us! What could that mean?

We find out when we turn to our Gospel passage and encounter Matthew’s wonderful narrative, as St. Joseph ponders how to handle this rather inconvenient situation regarding Mary’s pregnancy.

In those days a Jewish marriage consisted of three elements: engagement, betrothal, and marriage. Marital relations were not permitted until marriage. Joseph and Mary were still betrothed, a period that often lasted a year, so Mary’s pregnancy was a problem. If exposed, the punishment for her would be severe. So, Joseph, this “righteous” man, decided to divorce her quietly. 

And that’s when God steps in and sends an angel to explain it all to Joseph and command him:

"Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home. For it is through the Holy Spirit that this child has been conceived in her. She will bear a son and you are to name him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins."

Three brief sentences that tell Joseph all he needs to know. And what a surprise that must have been. But it’s a surprise of fulfillment. To ensure we understand that this child, this Son of Mary and the Holy Spirit, is the promised Messiah, Matthew repeats God’s prophecy to Isaiah:

“Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel.”

And Joseph?

“He did as the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took his wife into his home.”

Joseph, this Son of David, is called to be like a father to this child of God. As usual, Paul says it best; like all of us, Joseph is:

“...called to be holy…called to belong to Jesus Christ.”

As a righteous man of faith, Joseph obeys. And in doing so epitomizes the words of St. Paul to the Romans: Joseph defines “the obedience of faith.” I think sometimes we forget that our faith calls us to obedience. If you and I claim to believe, but don’t obey God’s Word, then, at best, our faith is shallow and weak and joyless, overshadowed by shame and regret.

Indeed, the joy of Christmas begins with Emmanuel, God’s great surprise to the world: “God is with us.” He becomes one of us. He takes on our humanity. It’s God’s terrible desire to "be with us," to be part of the human condition: God with us in our entirety. With this, He gives our bodies a divine dignity…and that, sisters and brothers, should give us great joy.

Sadly, in today’s world far too many people live joyless lives. As I've discovered in my years of ministry, the most joyless of these are not the poor, but those who are among the most affluent. Having so much, they can’t understand why they aren’t happy.

Back in the seventies the wife of a friend just upped and left him and their children, saying that she had to “find herself.” There was a lot of that going on back then – and it’s still going on today – men and women leaving their families in search of something else, presumably something better.

I’ve always found that a bit odd – people going off in search of themselves, when what they really seek is right there in front of them and within them. They search for meaning but look in all the wrong places.

St. Teresa of Avila, whose works are certainly worth reading, made a point of teaching that it is only in the search for God that we can uncover and discover our own true selves. As Christians, we believe no one can encounter himself until and unless he encounters Jesus Christ.

But who is this Jesus? Is He God? Is He man? Is He both? Do we accept or reject Him as the Way, the Truth, and the Life? Do we acknowledge Jesus as Emmanuel, the Incarnate Word of God? Our answers determine both our entire worldview and how we view ourselves; for once we accept Jesus for who He is, those identity crises disappear.

When we find ourselves through Jesus, and in Jesus, He becomes the very center of our being. It’s then we begin to experience the distance between who we are and who we’re called to be. And who exactly are we called to be? 

Paul tells us, just as he told the Romans: We “are called to belong to Jesus Christ…called to be holy.” Why? Because “we have received the grace of apostleship.” 

Yes, indeed, like the apostles, we have been called and sent. But sent to do what? Listen to the liturgy. In a few moments Father will pray these words in today’s Preface to the Eucharistic Payer:

“It is by His gift that already we rejoice…so that He may find us watchful in prayer and exultant in His praise.”

Are we doing that? As individuals, as a Catholic community here at St. Vincent de Paul, are we “watchful in prayer and exultant in His praise?”

So many around us have yet to know the deep joy of becoming whole in Christ. A few years ago, Pope Francis wrote,

“The joy of the Gospel fills the hearts and lives of all who encounter Jesus.”

We can encounter Jesus because the Messiah has already come. And yet we still wait, don’t we? Jesus is present and working through His Body, the Church, and He will come again in glory, but He must still come more fully into each of our lives. 

Jesus heals. Jesus cleanses. Jesus forgives. Jesus brings back to life that which was dead. Jesus brings good news to those who despair.

Do we share our joy, and live our Christian vocation as St. Joseph did, living the “obedience of faith?” We’re called to prepare the way for Jesus to come into our hearts and the hearts of others, so they, too, may "experience the joy of salvation", the healing, wholeness and holiness we all long for and which alone give real meaning to our lives. 

What will be the message others receive about your life and mine? Do our lives bring hope to others? Will our lives, our voices, open their ears to the Word of God? Do we offer them the light of Christ, the light of hope that helps the spiritually blind see, the light that reveals the presence of God’s salvation in our lives? Will you and I carry Jesus to the ostracized, the cast-offs, the forgotten?

Go to the nursing homes, the soup kitchens and food pantries, the shelters. Go to your neighbors, the ones who are alone, who are ill and forgotten. Bring hope where there is despair. Bring the good news to those who hear so much bad news. Put all that is hurting, stained, and impoverished, and lay it at Our Lord’s feet. He’ll pick it up, so nothing will come between us and Jesus Christ.

Only the love of Christ brings true healing. This is our vocation: to be healers and prophets, to pave the way for Jesus Christ in the world…like a continual Advent. Advent and Christmas are a time of surprising gifts. Include Emmanuel, Jesus Christ, among the gifts you take to others.

Blessed are those who are not disappointed in us.