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.

Homily: 3rd Sunday of Advent - Year C

Readings: Zep 3:14-18a; Phil 4:4-7; Lk 3:10-18

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Gaudete Sunday – Today, smack in the middle of Advent, in this season of prayerful repentance and preparation, we are called to be joyful. It’s a time to rejoice, for that’s what Gaudete means: this Latin imperative: “Rejoice!” Hence, the color of our vestments and the candle we light today on our Advent wreaths – the color rose is offered as an outward sign of our joy.

But why? Why this focus on rejoicing? What’s its source? We rejoice today because our salvation is at hand. It’s especially fitting in anticipation of our celebration of the birth of our Savior on Christmas Day. Two Old Testament readings today, prophecies from Zephaniah and Isaiah, then a passage from Paul’s Letter to the Philippians, and finally the words of John the Baptist in Luke’s Gospel, all reminding Israel and us of God’s promise of salvation.

We’re told to shout for joy, to sing joyfully, to cry out with gladness, to exult with all our hearts, not to be discouraged, to leave anxiety behind, to fear nothing. Sisters and brothers, if you missed that message, you just weren’t paying attention.

In our first reading, Zephaniah completes his prophecy by telling us to rejoice:

“Shout for joy, daughter Zion! Sing joyfully, Israel...

But because he’s a prophet, inspired by the Holy Spirit, he speaks not only to the people of his time, but to those in the time of fulfillment, and that includes you and me:

"The Lord, your God, is in your midst, a mighty Savior…"

Zephaniah was also called to prepare God’s people by telling them how they are to receive their Savior:

“…I will leave as a remnant in your midst a people humble and lowly, who shall take refuge in the name of the Lord.”

Is Zephaniah speaking to us? To us, who have received a mighty Savior in our midst and continue to receive Him in His Eucharistic Presence? Yes, indeed, for Zephaniah’s words are God’s Word, inspired by the Holy Spirit and given to the Church for the salvation of all.

A remnant…a people humble and lowly? It that the Church? Is that us? Are we humble and lowly? 

My! That sure goes against the grain, doesn’t it? To be lowly in today’s world is to be a loser, because anyone who’s anyone strives to be a winner. Fame and fortune beckon and the lowly will be left behind. Yes, indeed, humility’s not something we see a lot of these days. As my father used to say, only partially in jest:

“Humility’s a strange commodity. Once you know you have it, you just lost it.”

You never hear saints talking about their humility, because for them humility is simply reality, the reality of our existence. We are all children of God, none better than the other, all loved into existence by our great God, Who created everything. Now, that's humbling.

Does this remnant of humble, lowly ones rejoice in God’s gift of salvation? Do evangelists of the last days prepare the world for the Son’s return? Yes, indeed, for God so often takes the weak and powerless, and through them does wondrous things. Or He allows us to be weakened, so we so come to experience true humility.

Some years ago, driving north, Diane and I stopped by Jacksonville to see dear old friends, a retired admiral and his wife, Scott and Marnie. I’d known Scott for years, and flown with him back in our Navy days. But now he was dying of cancer, and we wanted to see him once more.

That day, as we ate lunch together, Scott’s drawn face suddenly filled with peace. He smiled and said:

“You know, Dana, I’m so looking forward to seeing our Lord, I can hardly stand it. Isn’t that weird?”

Scott died exactly one week later. And that comment, made over a salad at a Longhorn restaurant, was a gift. Speaking with us several weeks later, Marnie said, “Scott saved me from a lot of grief because he was so joyful about the life to come.” We are to welcome the Lord with joy, however and whenever He might come to us.

We hear a similar message in our Responsorial Psalm. It’s really not one of the Psalms, but a prayer of praise, joy, and thanksgiving from Isaiah. We need only pray again our response:

“Cry out with joy and gladness: for among you is the great and Holy One of Israel.”

Accepting this, we believe our Savior is among us now, and that God is calling us to prepare the world for His ultimate return. We must, then, try to understand what God desires of us. And to find out, let’s revisit today’s Gospel passage from Luke.

Many picture John the Baptist as some odd zealot, dressed in animal skins, roaming about the desert, telling everyone to repent while they still have time – in other words, kind of a scary guy. John was certainly a bit fierce, mainly because he understood the holiness of God, the effects of sin, and so preached the need for repentance. And yet, he was among the sweetest of men – a saint of indescribable humility, and perhaps the most joyful saint in Scripture.

For John had met and acknowledged Jesus before both were born. Filled with the Holy Spirit, John leaped in his mother’s womb at the sound of Mary’s greeting – an unborn infant filled with joy at his Lord’s arrival. As Luke reveals to us: Called by the Word of God, John “went throughout the whole region of the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” We too are called to experience this same joy as we prepare for our own meeting with Jesus.

Did you notice that everyone John encountered, everyone he baptized, asked the same question: “What are we to do?” How should we live our lives? And John told them all – the crowds, the tax collectors, the soldiers, everyone who asked him – that they must live their newfound faith. They must prove it through works of charity, honesty, faithfulness, and justice.

Yes, indeed, “What are we to do?”

Well, God gave us a pretty simple command: Love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength; and love your neighbor as yourself.

“What are we to do?”

About 25 years ago, ministering in another parish, I was asked that same question. A couple, in their early 40s, approached me after Sunday Mass and asked if they could meet with me. I didn’t know them. I’d been a deacon for only a few years, but I agreed to meet privately the next day.

We began the meeting with a brief prayer, then the man told me they were seasonal visitors, living in their new summer home. It seems they had just sold their business, a software development company, for over 50 million. My immediate thought? Oh, a big donation’s coming. 

But no, it was the wife who spoke next and said, “We’ve both been unfaithful, but want to save our marriage.” And with that, her husband looked at me and asked, “What are we to do?”

Hearing that question – What are we to do? – threw me right back into Luke’s Gospel, and caused me to ask myself, "What am I to do now?"

I first told them to go to the sacrament reconciliation and receive God’s forgiveness and taste His mercy. And because I’m no marriage counselor, I referred them to a faithful Catholic counselor, one whom I knew would help them. Then I just said: “Love, repentance, forgiveness, and mercy.”

That they were there, together, demonstrated their love for each other. Repentance, though, means far more than being sorry for our sins. The very word – repent – means to re-think, to change our thinking, and from that to change how we act. As St. Paul reminds us, repentance demands change.

“…put on the new self, created in God’s way, in righteousness and holiness of truth.”

Forgiveness and mercy…well, they go together, for they are the most vivid manifestation of God’s love, the same love we are called to imitate. We should, of course, begin in our own families, forgiving those who love us, those whom we love, those to whom we can sometimes be most unkind indeed. 

But don’t stop there. Do what John told the crowds as they prepared to meet their Lord: Give to the poor, not just from your surplus but from your own need. Be honest, loving, caring people.

Called by God as His messenger, John prepared the world to receive Jesus Christ, the Word of God Incarnate. John awakened those he encountered, pulled them out of their complacency, led them to repentance so they would understand Jesus when He came.

And it’s no different today. To shake the world out of its indifference, to heal the hatreds, the divisions, the Church needs us all to be true witnesses to God’s love for the world. Today, because our God calls us all to rejoice in our salvation, we need people of joy – not just on one Sunday of Advent, but every day.

St. Paul, in our reading from Philippians, said it best:

“Rejoice in the Lord always. I shall say it again: rejoice!”

And he wrote those words from a Roman prison, as he awaited execution. Yes, “Rejoice in the Lord always.”

I’m reminded again of the words of my dying friend, Scott:

“I’m so looking forward to seeing our Lord, I can hardly stand it.”

Here, indeed, is the peace of God that surpasses all understanding. And this, sisters and brothers, is the Good News of Jesus Christ. Live it! Share it!

 

Homily: Third Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year B

Readings: Jon 3:1-5,10; Ps 25; 1Cor 7:29-31; Mk 1:14-20

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One theme present in today’s readings is time, or perhaps more specifically, the passage of time. Of course, at my age – and I suspect this is true for a few of you – the passage of time is very evident.

When we were children, time crept by, carrying us slowly and deliberately through our young lives. What a blessing this was! The movement of time let us anticipate and savor so much of life – to observe, learn, absorb all that we encountered…and if we were fortunate, to distance us from the not so good.

For several years, Diane and I took foster children into our home. We had four children of our own, but we took on emergency cases, children who often came from difficult family situations.

Amazingly, regardless of the tumult and confusion these little ones had endured, they were often able to set it aside. Moved by love for their parents, their fervent hope was to return, to return to a renewed family where all would be set right. One need only look at a child to see the true manifestation of hope as a virtue.

But as we age, time moves along more quickly, doesn’t it? It hurries us through our days, pushing us relentlessly to the very culmination of our lives. It’s as if time, like today’s readings, pleads with us, reminding us we cannot bargain with it; that for each life, time has a limit, one that can come on quickly.

In our second reading St. Paul doesn’t pull any punches, but comes right out and tells the Corinthians and us that, “time is running out…the world in its present form is passing away.”

Paul wants us to be ready, to prepare for all that is to come, to prepare for God’s transformation of the world, and to prepare for judgment. He calls us to prepare – not by our own power, but through God’s gift of grace.

For God comes to us. He comes to us here in His Word, proclaimed in our hearing, entering into our minds and hearts.

He comes to us in the Eucharist, joining our very being with His Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, joining us to one another in this shared Communion. Do we ever think of that? As we depart here today, we are surrounded by the Real Presence of Jesus in each other. Yes, through the Eucharist each of us becomes a God-bearer, called to take Jesus Christ to others.

He comes to us, too, when we encounter Him daily, especially in His least brothers and sisters. Do we see Christ in them? At the Wildwood Soup Kitchen, we told our volunteers, “We don’t serve meals; we serve Jesus Christ.” But do those we serve, experience Jesus in us? Do they turn to us in expectation, in hope? That marvelous writer, the late Flannery O’Connor, once wrote to a friend: “You will have found Christ when you are concerned with other people’s suffering and not your own.”

How foolish we are when we ignore these daily encounters. And yet so many of us do just that when we make the mistake of thinking the little slice of time we’ve been given belongs to us.

"Follow me and I will make you fishers of men."

The apostles didn’t make that mistake. They had encountered Jesus in the flesh – hearing, seeing, touching Him – and realized that they had been called, called in God’s time, not theirs. They had no time to do anything but drop their nets, turn away from their former lives, and follow Jesus. They didn’t fully understand it, not then, but moved by the Spirit, they knew it was a special time.

Indeed, in that same brief Gospel passage from Mark, Jesus begins His public ministry with the words, “This is the time of fulfillment.” Here is Jesus, the Lord of History, standing at the very center of all time, bringing everything that went before to fulfillment – truly, a most special time. The very thought of the Incarnation, God’s thought, was made in eternity, outside of time itself. And with His coming, everything changed.

The time of the Old Covenant pointed forward, away from itself, to Jesus Christ, its fulfillment. Yes, Jesus tells us, all of time that came before, every moment from the creation of time itself out of eternity, is brought to completion. His coming thrust us into God’s time; and Jesus, our God become man, is now ever-present.

Yes, indeed, it’s His time; it’s God’s time, for Jesus goes on to tell us: “The Kingdom of God is at hand.” To be sure, then, this fulfillment of time also means the time of the Kingdom of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

But other than this, Jesus really tells us very little about this time, or what we can expect as it unfolds. He tells us only that God has acted and fulfilled all. Then, continuing His teaching at that first moment of His ministry, Jesus commands us to act as well – for we must do our part.

“Repent,” Jesus commands, “and believe in the Gospel.”

Instead of telling us what we can expect, Jesus tells us what God expects of us. First, we are to repent. Translated from the Greek, metanoia, it means a change of mind and heart.

Time and change — repentance calls us to look back, if only to acknowledge the sinfulness of our lives; but then, filled with hope, to look forward to conversion, to forgiveness, and to the joy of the Good News. Jesus calls us to faith, to accept the Gospel, and to love our God and to love each other. Then, with minds and hearts turned toward God, we can experience the surprising joy of the Good News.

Sisters and brothers, Jesus spoke those words to the people of Galilee gathered around Him that day. He spoke to each one of them, personally, individually, calling them to accept His gift of faith, calling them to repentance, conversion, and joy. And He speaks this message to each us as well; for we, too, are called…and as Paul reminds us, “time is running out.”

Are we like the people of Nineveh? Like all of us they needed to repent. They had turned from God…until He placed that ultimatum before them. God set a 40-day time limit to their lives, and when they heard Jonah’s message, the message of the most reluctant of all the prophets, they realized their time was running out.

But they didn’t wait, not for a moment. No, they acknowledged their sins, turned to God in repentance, and He lifted the dire sentence He had placed on them.

Nineveh Repents

Repentance, conversion, salvation, and joy.

What about our time? People move here to our little corner of the world to have the time of their lives, don’t they? But all too often they forget that the time of their lives is coming all too quickly to an end.

Christ’s message, then, is one of urgency. It’s a message that demands an answer. To put it off is to run the risk of missing the coming of the Kingdom into our lives.

This Gospel message is for every single one of us, for all of humanity stretched out over the entire span of time. It’s a message aimed directly at the heart, in which God marks each of us for repentance, and for the salvation He desires for us.

Brothers and sisters, that we're here today means you and I believe in the Good News of Jesus Christ, in the salvation He offers us. Our Lord calls us to live that belief in lives that glorify God by loving and serving Him and each other.

Have you and I done much God-glorifying lately? Maybe it’s time to give it a try. Then, through the grace of God, we really can have the time of our lives.

Homily: Thursday, 28 Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Rom 1:16-25; Psalm 19; Luke 11:37-41

In my previous parish, a retired bishop who summered in our town used to help us out by celebrating one of the Sunday Masses. One Sunday, just before the dismissal, the bishop blessed a couple who were celebrating their 50^th wedding anniversary. As you might expect, after the blessing the entire congregation applauded.

After Mass a parishioner approached me in the parking lot. He was very upset because of the applause which he felt was entirely out of place at Mass. At first, I thought he was joking, and my reaction probably wasn’t what he’d hoped for. He went from upset to furious. I tried to calm him down by explaining that when something especially good happens in the lives of members of our parish community, it’s entirely appropriate for the community to share in their joy. Applause is simply our culture’s way of expressing that joy. And doing so at the end of Mass, right before the dismissal, is also appropriate. It didn’t work. Family in tow, he stormed off to his car. I should have asked him why he complained to me and not to the bishop. I’m just a deacon.

Sadly, he always seemed to come across as a dour, joyless person, more focused on others’ faults than on the good in them. I didn’t doubt his faith, but I didn’t see a lot of Christian love there. But he seemed to be devout, and because only God knows his heart, I won’t judge him. We all have some of the Pharisee in us – some more, some less – and I mention this man because it seemed a bit more evident in his case.

In today’s Gospel reading Luke describes a meal Jesus had at a Pharisee’s home. I find it interesting that, for a group who didn’t trust or like Jesus very much, the Pharisees seemed to have Him over for dinner a lot. Well, as it turned out, Jesus neglected to perform the ritual washing before dinner – an omission that offended his host. I’m sure Jesus didn’t forget, but did this intentionally to put the spotlight on the man’s hypocrisy. Certainly, that was the result.

Our Lord used some harsh words in His rebuke:

“…you Pharisees! Although you cleanse the outside of the cup and the dish, inside you are filled with plunder and evil. You fools! Did not the maker of the outside also make the inside?”

Of course, He’s no longer talking about cups and dishes. He’s talking about the human heart. Jesus isn’t criticizing the ritual washing itself. No, He’s criticizing the Pharisee’s placing more importance on the ritual than on obeying the commandment to love God and neighbor.

For example, as Catholics we observe many rituals. We’re observing one now by following very specific rubrics as we celebrate this rite today. And this is as it should be, because the rite is as old as the Church itself, designed to bring us closer to God through hearing His word and receiving Jesus in the Eucharist. But the ritual is a means, not an end. The end brings us into communion with Jesus. When we let this happen, Jesus becomes one with us, and transforms our hearts and minds. In other words, what we do on the outside should help us change on the inside.  But when we focus solely on the externals, we break this connection.

Although not directed at Pharisees, Paul’s words today could be applied to them as well:

“…for although they knew God, they did not accord him glory as God or give him thanks. Instead, they became vain in their reasoning, and their senseless minds were darkened. While claiming to be wise, they became fools…”

Yes, we're all Pharisees sometimes, focused on the outside. And the more devout we are, the more susceptible we are to this not so little vice. We become so focused on the externals, that we neglect the internal. We can get so wrapped up in our devotions and rituals that our focus shifts to ourselves at the expense of others.

We won’t get to heaven by just worrying about ourselves and our own salvation. It’s another of those great Christian paradoxes: we’ll only reach our goal if we forget about ourselves and devote our efforts instead to helping others achieve theirs. When I talk with engaged couples, I always tell each of them, that their most important task is to help the other get to heaven. That's what true love is all about.

Gerard Manley Hopkins, the 19^th Century Jesuit poet, frequently corresponded with the poet laureate of England, his friend Robert Bridges. Bridges, an agnostic, once wrote, asking Hopkins how he could learn to believe. I suppose he expected some deep theological answer. Hopkins replied in a letter with only two words, the words Jesus left with the Pharisees: “Give alms.”

Yes, brothers and sisters, give alms. Care for others. Wash some feet. Imitate Jesus. Heal, forgive, and serve each other. Then everything will be clean for you, inside and outside.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Take some time today to thank God in prayer for all He has done for you and for those you love. God never stops loving and He continues to move His eternal plan forward. And because you and I each have a role to play in God’s plan, we should all understand how important we are to Him. Be open to God’s Word and His call to love and serve Him and all those He puts in your life. 

Thanksgiving, then, should be a joyful time and there are few better manifestations of that joy than the hymn of Psalm 100:

A Psalm for the thank offering. 

Make a joyful noise to the LORD, all the lands!
Serve the LORD with gladness! 
Come into his presence with singing! 

Know that the LORD is God! 
It is he that made us, and we are his;
we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. 

Enter his gates with thanksgiving,

and his courts with praise!

Give thanks to him, bless his name! 

For the LORD is good;
his steadfast love endures for ever,

and his faithfulness to all generations. 

Amen!

Timely and Saintly Words

Struggling as so many are, dealing month after month with pandemic restrictions and separation from others, I thought perhaps we all needed some words of encouragement and even redirection. It's easy to become a bit too inward-focused as we live out this odd cocoon-like existence and find ourselves actually looking forward to Face-time calls and Zoom meetings. Yes, indeed, we could all use some words to lift up our hearts and turn those same hearts to the Lord.

Here are a few comments by saintly men and women who managed to live extraordinary lives despite the difficult challenges they faced.

“Bodily suffering makes wicked souls miserable, but borne with fortitude it purifies souls that are good.” - St. Augustine

“Make sickness itself a prayer.” - St. Francis de Sales

“He causes his prayers to be of greater advantage to himself, who offers prayer also for others.” - Pope St. Gregory I

“God’s will is as much in sickness as in health.” - St. Francis de Sales

“Rise, let us be on our way!” - St. John Paul II

“Let us throw ourselves into God’s arms, and be sure that if He wants something from us, He will give us the strength to do everything He wants us to.” - St. Philip Neri

“Nothing can happen to me that God doesn't want. And all that He wants, no matter how bad it may appear to us, is really for the best.” - St. Thomas More

"Let the brothers ever avoid appearing gloomy, sad, and clouded, like the hypocrites; but let one ever be found joyous." - St. Francis of Assisi

“It does us much good, when we suffer, to have friendly hearts whose echo responds to our suffering.” - St. Thérèse of Lisieux

"Imagine yourself always to be the servant of all, and look upon all as if they were Christ our Lord in person; and so shall you do Him honor and reverence." - St. Teresa of Jesus

“He prays best who does not know that he is praying.” – St. Anthony of the Desert

“God allows failure but does not want discouragement.” - St. Teresa of Calcutta

“Don’t become discouraged. I have seen you fight ... Your defeat today is training for the final victory.” - St. Josemaría Escrivá

“Joy, study and piety: this is the best program to make you happy, and is the one that will most benefit your soul.” - St. John Bosco

“True love is hidden in the depths of the virtues, and manifests itself in any adversity.” - St. John of the Cross

“It is proper of faith to make us humble in happy events and unperturbed in setbacks.” - St. Clare of Assisi

“Have great confidence in God: His mercy is infinitely greater than our weakness.” - St. Margaret Mary Alacoque

"Humility is the mother of salvation." -- St. Bernard

"There is no love without hope, no hope without love, and neither hope nor love without faith." -- St. Augustine

 Faith over fear! God's peace.

COVID-19 Bible Study Reflection #14: Joyful Prophet

Many Christians, when they think of the Old Testament prophets, picture in their mind’s eye odd-looking men roaming the Holy Land and telling the Jews to straighten up and fly right or lots of very nasty things will happen to them. Yes, it’s all doom and gloom, fire and brimstone, sack cloth and ashes. To be honest, sometimes that’s exactly what the prophets did, because among their many roles was their call to be the moral conscience of the people. To fulfill that role, they acted as guides along the path to salvation calling God’s people to repentance and to moral and religious change.

But the prophets weren’t just the bearers of bad tidings. They had another role. More often than not, they were God’s messengers, His visionaries. They were the proclaimers of the Good News. I suppose we could call them the first proclaimers, the ones sent by God to tell His people that something wonderful, someone wonderful, was coming.

These prophets, then, so often depicted as fierce, angry men, were actually among the most joyful men of the Old Testament. God, you see, had given them a glimpse, a vision of what was to come, a vision that filled them with expectant joy. Any sadness they experienced was most often the result of the people’s refusal to listen.

The other evening, as I prayed for the soul of a friend who had just died, I turned to the Office for the Dead, part of the Church’s Liturgy of the Hours. One of the optional hymns included in this Office is the thirteenth-century hymn, “Dies Irae.” As an altar boy back in the pre-Vatican II days, I often heard the Latin version of this hymn chanted as a sequence during Requiem Masses. Quite beautiful, especially in Gregorian Chant, it's far too long to include here in its entirety, so I’ll just provide a link to it – Dies Irae. You can read it at your leisure, in ether Latin or an English translation. If you’d like to hear the hymn in Gregorian Chant, click here.

Dies Irae is best translated as “The Day of Wrath.” As you might imagine, it’s all about the Final Judgment, the “day of the Lord.” The hymn was inspired by the opening verses of the Book of Zephaniah. The prophet begins with this proclamation of God’s Word:

“I will utterly sweep away everything from the face of the earth,” says the Lord [Zeph 1:2].

…and concludes with:

“A day of wrath is that day, a day of distress and anguish, and day of ruin and devastation, a day of darkness and gloom, a day of clouds and thick darkness…” [Zeph 1:15].

These two verses, and the 12 verses that fall between them, are not what we would normally consider a cheerful message, but cheer was not Zephaniah’s intention. Indeed, in the first two chapters of his brief book of prophecy, Zephaniah chastises the people for turning away from the one, true God and embracing false and foreign gods. He goes on to depict a future dark and grim, a time of punishment, a day of judgment. Most scholars believe Zephaniah wrote these words early in the reign of King Josiah (640-609 B.C.) when Assyrian influence was greatest, and years before Josiah instituted his religious reforms. From the text, however, it’s obvious that Zephaniah’s prophecy of judgment applies not only to Israel and Judah, but to all nations.

Note: Interestingly, to my knowledge – and I may well be wrong – Zephaniah is one of the few Old Testament books to which there are no direct New Testament references.

The prophets, however, are not all darkness, and Zephaniah is no exception. In chapter three he completes his prophetic proclamation with a joyful description of the future God has planned for His people. We actually hear part of it in the first reading of Advent’s Gaudete [Rejoice!] Sunday (Year C):

“Shout for joy, daughter Zion! Sing joyfully, Israel! Be glad and exult with all your heart, daughter Jerusalem! The Lord has removed the judgment against you, he has turned away your enemies; the King of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst, you have no further misfortune to fear. On that day, it shall be said to Jerusalem: Do not fear, Zion, do not be discouraged! The Lord, your God, is in your midst, a mighty Savior, Who will rejoice over you with gladness, and renew you in his love, Who will sing joyfully because of you, as on festival days” [Zeph 3:14-18a].

It’s a future that appears to be centered on one event, on an arrival: “The Lord, your God, is in your midst, a mighty Savior.” The prophet, though, was also called to prepare God’s people for this arrival; therefore, he prefaced his revelation by telling God’s people how they are to receive their Savior:

“…I will leave as a remnant in your midst a people humble and lowly, who shall take refuge in the name of the Lord” [Zeph 3:12].

A remnant, humble and lowly? Is Zephaniah speaking to the Jewish people of his own day? Or are his words instead aimed at those who later will be carried off into exile after the fall of Jerusalem, only to return as a “remnant”? Perhaps the Spirit is using Zephaniah’s words to address the Jews of Jesus’ time, the time of salvation. Or is he addressing us, we who have received a mighty Savior in our midst and who continue to receive Him in His Eucharistic Presence? Indeed, there is an evident liturgical presence in Zephaniah as the prophet proclaims the renewal of communion between God and His people.

I think we can answer each of these questions with one word: Yes! After all, the words of Zephaniah are the Word of God, inspired by the Holy Spirit and given to the chosen people and to the Church for the salvation of all God’s people. In that sense, they are as timeless as all of Sacred Scripture.

Zephaniah revealed that God would leave a “remnant” in the midst of the world. But what about that remnant? It that another way of describing those to whom God will grant His salvation? Is “remnant” simply another word for us, the Church? Or does it include only some within the Church? What about all those others -- other Christians, Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, and so many others? Who’s included and who’s excluded? Or do such questions completely miss what God is telling us?

Perhaps we spend far too much time asking questions. Perhaps this remnant is exactly what the prophet says it is: “a people humble and lowly, who shall take refuge in the name of the Lord.” God so often takes the weak and powerless, and through them does wondrous things.

In the last days, then, is this remnant of humble, lowly ones called to prepare the way for the Lord’s return? Are they called to be the evangelists of the last days? The Church’s response is an emphatic “Yes!” Indeed, for 2,000 years the Church has taught that we are in “the last days,” which began with the Incarnation. St. Peter actually preached this on that first Pentecost Sunday by quoting the Prophet Joel:

“It will come to pass in the last days,” God says, “that I will pour out a portion of my spirit upon all flesh. Your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your young men shall see visions, your old men shall dream dreams” [Acts 2:17],

If we accept this, if we believe God is calling us to join His holy remnant in preparation for His ultimate return, it makes sense, then, to try to understand what God desires of us.

God’s Word, though, particularly His expectations, can be a bit scary, especially when we place them alongside the reality of our lives. Do you remember the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit [Is 11:2-3]? Remember the last of these seven gifts? That’s right: Fear of the Lord. I’ve often thought this remarkable gift describes my partial comprehension of the vast difference between God and me, an awe-inspiring difference that cannot but inspire deep humility as well. Once again, how did Zephaniah put it? “…a people humble and lowly…”

The world, of course, rejects this. To be lowly today is to be a loser, a loser in a society where anyone who’s anyone strives to be a winner. Fame and fortune beckon and the lowly will be left behind. Have you ever noticed that those worldly winners always define themselves by their work, by how they make their living, not by how they live?

This becomes evident when you attend a get together of people you’ve never met, say a cocktail party. Among the first questions people ask is, “What do you do?” Of course, here in The Villages it’s usually, “What did you do?” Anyway, just to create a little confusion, I sometimes answer with: “I struggle to be humble in the presence of God and man, usually with little success, and I try to work out my salvation with ‘fear and trembling.’ How about you?” [See Phil 2:12]

As you might imagine, the responses vary.

Yes, humility’s not something we see a lot of these days. As my father used to say, only partially in jest: “Humility’s a strange commodity. Once you know you have it, you just lost it.”

But what about Zephaniah? What else does he tell us? How are we to receive the Lord? Foreshadowing Jesus, who told His disciples time and again not to be afraid, Zephaniah tells us the same thing. Here again are his words:

"Do not fear...The Lord...will rejoice over you with gladness and renew you in His love...will sing joyfully because of you" [Zeph 3:16-17].

What a marvelous image: God rejoicing over us with gladness and singing joyfully. What a wonderful encapsulation of the Good News of Jesus Christ, all uttered by this Old Testament prophet centuries before that first Christmas in Bethlehem. Dear Zephaniah, who was not only a prophet but also a prince of the royal house of Judah, tells us clearly that we are to welcome the Lord and receive him with humility and without fear.

But that’s not all. He tells us one more thing: to “Shout for joy!” That’s right…we are to “Sing joyfully…be glad and exult with all your heart.” This, the prophet reveals, is what waiting for the Lord, is all about. We are to greet the Lord with joy, with so much joy that our hearts are ready to burst.

Several years ago, on our way up north to spend Christmas with our family, Diane and I stopped by Jacksonville to see dear old friends, a retired admiral and his wife, Scott and Marnie. I had flown with Scott back in our Navy days, but now he was dying of cancer and we wanted to see him once more.

That day as we ate lunch together, Scott’s drawn face suddenly filled with peace. He smiled and said, “You know, Dana, I’m so looking forward to seeing our Lord, I can hardly stand it. Isn’t that weird?” Scott died exactly one week later. And do you know something? That comment, made over a salad at a Longhorn restaurant, was a gift. Speaking with us several weeks later, Marnie said, “Scott saved me from a lot of grief because he was so joyful about the life to come.”

Yes, we are to welcome the Lord with joy, however and whenever He might come to us. And hundreds of years after Zephaniah proclaimed God’s Word to the world, St. Paul told us much the same thing. In his Letter to the Philippians, the Apostle tells them and us:

"Rejoice in the Lord always. I shall say again: rejoice!" [Phil 4:4]

…and then goes on to counsel against fear:

“The Lord is near. Have no anxiety at all” [Phil 4:5-6].

That’s right, fear not. And by putting aside this fear, Paul tells us:

“…the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus” [Phil 4:7].

I am reminded again of the words of my friend, Scott: “I’m so looking forward to seeing our Lord I can hardly stand it.” Here, indeed, is the peace of God that surpasses all understanding. This is the Good News, brothers and sisters. When God’s peace fills your heart, when you can look to the Lord with joy regardless of the circumstances, you know you’ve accepted the Good News in its fullness.

The Good News, the Gospel, never leaves anxiety or despair in its wake. Only the bad news does that, only the work of Satan brings fear and discord and conflict.

What, then, can we learn from all this?

First, there’s humility. True humility, though, comes from prayer, the struggle to comprehend God’s holiness, His complete “otherness,” and the vastness of His creation. Fortunately, we have Jesus as our perfect example. As St. Paul reminds us:

“…he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness; and found human in appearance, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross” [Phil 2:7-8].

Here we encounter a humility “that surpasses all understanding,” a humility founded on God’s great love for us. This is why Zephaniah and Paul and Jesus Himself tell us not to fear, because we are loved so greatly.

This then, and the gift of our redemption, will lead us to receive Him with joy. For joy, too, should be our natural response to the Good News, to every encounter we have with Jesus.

After all, aren’t you joyful when you hear that a loved one has been healed of a life-threatening illness, that he or she can once again experience life to the fullest? Well, that’s what the Gospel is. It’s the Good News that humanity has been healed, that God has given all of us the gift of life. But this spiritual healing is so much greater than any physical healing. And the life we receive from it? Well, it’s eternal life.

If that’s not a cause for joy, then nothing is.