Homily: Christmas Vigil - Year C

Readings: Is 62:1-5; Psalm 89; Acts 13:16-17,22-25; Mt 1:1-25

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People often wonder why the Church includes this Gospel passage, this rather long genealogy, in tonight’s liturgy. It does seem like a strange selection, doesn’t it? All those names scattered across the generations from Abraham to Moses, then on to David and Solomon, then to the traumatic exile of God’s People in Babylon, and finally to Joseph and Mary and Jesus Himself.

Yes indeed, it might seem a bit odd to have us listen to all those names on the night we celebrate the birth of our Savior. After all, isn’t the name of Jesus enough? Isn’t it enough to know that Jesus is the Son of God? Is it really necessary to tell us about these human ancestors spread out over the centuries from the time of Abraham?

Actually, yes! It is.

You see, Matthew is simply saying, “Welcome to God’s family! -- because Jesus’s family is also our family.” Tonight, we not only celebrate Jesus’ birth, but we also celebrate our own spiritual roots, deep roots that stretch back nearly 4,000 years to Abraham, our father in faith.

You can trace that spiritual lineage from the priest (or deacon) who baptized you, through the bishop who ordained him, all the way back to the apostles and to Jesus Himself. And then you need only turn to these opening verses of Matthew’s Gospel and follow the path all the way back to Abraham.

And do you know something else? You and I share these roots. That’s right – we all have that same family tree. What a gift this is! It’s one of the key messages of the Gospel, a message that takes us deeply into those spiritual roots, and binds us in a living connection with Jesus Christ Himself.

Each of the four Gospels begins by telling us who Jesus is, but each tells us in a different way.

Mark, in his usual Sergeant Friday, just-the-facts-Ma’am approach, wastes neither time nor words and identifies Jesus from the beginning: 

“The beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God…” [Mk 1:1]

Luke's a bit more subtle. He takes half a chapter before he finally gets to Jesus, and then he lets the Archangel Gabriel do th honors:

“Therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God' [Lk 1:35].

And John? He echoes the opening words of the Book of Genesis and proclaims the eternal divinity of the Logos, of Jesus, the creative Word of God.

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” [Jn 1:1].

But Matthew is different. Writing to a Jewish audience, he offers them a very Jewish family tree of Jesus Christ, true God and true man. He begins by proclaiming:

“The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham” [Mt 1:1].

Any Jew would recognize these titles, for they are Messianic titles. At the very start, Matthew is declaring Jesus to be the Messiah, the chosen one. Then, filled with the Spirit, he presents us with a family tree, one generation after another…right here in the very first verses of the New Testament. It’s as if God can’t wait to tell us all about His family.

Realize first that Matthew didn’t intend his genealogy to be complete. And his Jewish readers would know this too. No, Matthew wants to make a point. He wants his readers to understand and accept Jesus’s messianic roots. And so, he divides his genealogy into three sections of 14 names, or 6 sections, each with 7 names.

To the Jew 7 and 14 symbolized completion or perfection. Matthew, then, completes his genealogy with the first and only name in the 7^th group of 7: the name of Jesus. For a Jew this was as perfect as you could get.

Although some of these names may sound a bit strange to us, they’re all real people and offer a glimpse into the entire history of God’s Chosen People. As we run through that list of names we encounter every aspect of human life, and not just the good parts, but also murder, treachery, incest, adultery, prostitution…

We also meet five women, something rarely encountered in ancient genealogies. The last of these is Mary herself, but the first four – Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba – are all Gentiles: 2 Canaanites, a Moabite, and a Hittite. Yes, Jesus’s family wasn’t so purely Jewish, was it? Those Gentiles among His ancestors highlight the fact that He came from all of us, and for all of us. How did Isaiah put it?

"Nations shall behold your vindication, and all the kings your glory; you shall be called by a new name, pronounced by the mouth of the Lord" [Is 62:2.

Yes, it’s a global family, but it’s also a family of sinners.

Tamar disguised herself as a prostitute to fool her father-in-law, Judah, and ending up giving birth to his twin sons.

Rahab was a prostitute, and yet become a faithful woman who served the God of Israel.

And Bathsheba? King David watched her bathing from his rooftop, invited her in, seduced her, and had her husband killed, so he could marry her. Solomon, their son, started right with God, but then joined his many wives in worshipping idols.

Some members, like Mary and Joseph, are extraordinary; others, Ruth and Josiah, are faithful; some, like Manasseh and Rehoboam, are despicable; others, like Eliud and Azor, are anonymous, nondescript, men about which we know nothing.

Welcome to my family, Jesus tells us, welcome to my world. It’s the world we encounter when we open the Bible and realize how forgiving our God is. Jesus’s family is a human family and like most human families, has its share of saints and sinners. And from this, we learn that God’s plan was accomplished through them all, and that He continues to work through us, His people.

Notice, too, the genealogy relates father to son, father to son, father to son…except at the very end. Matthew completes the genealogy with the words:

“Jacob the father of Joseph, the husband of Mary. Of her was born Jesus who is called the Christ.” [Mt 1:16]

For Matthew doesn’t declare Joseph to be the father of Jesus. Jesus, the Christ, is born of Mary, the virgin, with God as His Father. Again, what a gift – to be members of God’s eternal family!

Indeed, what a gift all of Revelation is! Do you realize how blessed we are to be Catholic Christians? What we believe and how we worship are not things we’ve concocted. For Christianity is really a revelation rather than a religion. Christianity is God’s Word and Work, not something we came up with. It’s not a collection of man’s feeble attempts to placate some higher power. It comes totally from God Himself.

We believe God revealed Himself through the many generations Matthew enumerates in his genealogy. It’s a Revelation that runs from Abraham to Moses to David through all the prophets and eventually to Jesus Himself – Who is the fulfillment of it all. It’s a revelation that reaches its climax in the Incarnation when Mary gives birth, as Matthew describes it, to “Jesus, who is called the Christ.”

You see, brothers and sisters, it’s all a gift. As St. Paul asked the Corinthians:

"What do you possess that you have not received?" [1 Cor 4:7]

The answer, of course, is “Nothing!”

And right there at the top of the list of God’s gifts, is that which we receive through our Baptism: the gift of adoption. We became sons and daughters of the Father, part of the Family of God.

And so, we join Jesus on that family tree described by Matthew. We are heirs and inherit the fruit of God’s promises made to Abraham and to those who followed him. But as members of God’s family, we must behave as any good son or daughter would behave. We must live in a way that honors the father, in a way that doesn’t dishonor the family.

Another great gift that comes out of this adoption is the privilege of eating at the table of the Family of God.  We can take part in the Eucharistic Feast, the Mass. And what a gift this is! For here, at this altar, Jesus Christ, gives Himself to us, body and blood, soul and divinity, and allows us, the members of His family, to join Him in the most intimate way imaginable.

Here, as we come forward to receive the Body and Blood of Christ, we also join each other in a unique Communion in which the Church is most completely herself. Eucharist – the word itself means thanksgiving – is like a great family dinner, Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners all rolled into one… and yet far more wonderful and fulfilling.

Brothers and sisters, we are sons and daughters of God!  These roots are deeper, stronger, and longer lasting than any human family roots. Indeed, they’re so strong they’ll carry us all the way to eternal life.

And so tonight, as we rejoice in the birth of our Savior, let us also rejoice that our names are written in heaven, as members of the family of Jesus Christ.

"Come, Lord Jesus!" [Rev 22:20]

 

Storm, Soup Kitchen, Funerals and more

It's been a remarkable week, one that has surprised us with the unexpected and taught us much and  blessed us through everyday experiences.

The most unexpected event was the storm that someone named Hermine. It's a rather odd name, isn't it? Do you actually know anyone named Hermine? I certainly don't. I'm not sure how they decide on these stormy names, but in recent years they have definitely changed, become far more exotic. Most people don't realize that earlier -- much earlier -- major storms were named after saints, most often the saint on whose feast day the storm first appeared. And then, for many years, storms went unnamed. For example, I was born in the midst of a storm that was called simply, "The Great Hurricane of September 1944." It wasn't until the early 1950s that the National Weather Service began to assign female names to hurricanes and major tropical storms. I remember well some of the storms that roared up the East Coast when I was much younger -- for example, Carol, Edna, Diane, and Donna -- all given rather common female names. It wasn't until the late 1970s that nascent political correctness led to the assignment of both male and female names to major storms. This change actually surprised me. I would have thought that the more radical feminists would approve of these impressive, mighty storms being given feminine names as a kind of metaphor reflecting the power of women. But no, political correctness trumps all and male storminess must be recognized as equal to that of women. But I digress...

Hermine made its appearance in the Gulf of Mexico early last week as the cleverly named Tropical Depression #9. It wallowed about in the gulf for several days before it began to display some organization and direction. By Tuesday the weather-guessers called for it to strengthen into a tropical storm and ultimately a hurricane, predicting landfall on Florida's west coast sometime early Thursday.

This forecast was particularly disturbing because Diane and I are the Thursday cook and captain at the Wildwood Soup Kitchen, and Wildwood, Florida was on the storm's predicted path. On Wednesday morning we finally decided to close the soup kitchen for Thursday, not wanting to subject our drivers who deliver meals or our walk-in guests to the dangers of a major storm. As it turned out, Hermine changed both course and speed, drifted to the north and west, and finally made landfall early Friday just south of Tallahassee. We were, therefore, spared its most damaging effects. We experienced gusty wind and heavy rain but nothing too exciting. Hermine has since moved up the East Coast and once again is wallowing about, this time in the Atlantic. And so we are able to share this storm with three of our children, who live in coastal New England.

In the midst of all this storminess, I have been asked to conduct two funerals, one vigil service, and one committal service, all in the space of four days. The committal will be at the National Cemetery in Bushnell, Florida. As you might expect, because of our large retired-age population in central Florida, funerals, vigils and committals are common, much more common than baptisms and marriages.

Most funerals are celebrated in the church during Mass, but sometimes, for any number of reasons, a family wants a funeral outside of Mass in a funeral home. Because no Mass is celebrated we deacons are usually called on to conduct these funerals. I have always considered them among the most important liturgies I am privileged to conduct. For most people this is a time of real need, a time when confusion, emptiness, and doubt overwhelm the mind and heart. It is a time calling for the affirmation of faith, a time for the proclamation of God's Good News in the midst of man's bad news. But most importantly, it is a time to listen. And in the listening I have found these difficult times to be wonderful opportunities for evangelization. It's not unusual to encounter family members who have drifted away from the Church and are simply awaiting a call to return.

Anyhow, because of all this, I spend a considerable amount of time preparing for funerals and vigils and committals. I always try to meet with the family in advance, not only to learn about the deceased as a person, but also to get a sense of the relationships within the family. Out of this, the family's  spiritual needs become more evident, important considerations when selecting the Scripture readings and preparing my homily.

I conducted two of these services -- a funeral and a vigil service -- yesterday, while the other two are scheduled for early next week. I am truly humbled by the remarkable faith I encountered yesterday among the family and friends of the man and woman who had died. Even in their grief, they were aware of God's presence and His enduring love. How often this happens! How often do I come to realize the true holiness of God's people, a holiness that often far exceeds that of the clergy, of priests and deacons.

Just as I finished writing the last sentence we suffered a lightning strike. It was the closest and loudest strike I've ever experienced. The flash was right outside our master bedroom window, and the crash of thunder, being so close, was instantaneous and deafening. The circuit breaker for the bedroom electricity flipped off, the smoke detectors all sounded, and Maddie, the wonder-dog, was greatly displeased. Our neighbor just called on her cellphone and said their telephones are out and their PC was fried. We apparently are in better shape. Telephones and computers all seem to be working. I checked the attic for signs of fire, reset the circuit breaker, and gave the house a blessing. 

All seems well. God is good.

Lightnings and clouds, bless the Lord;

praise and exalt him above all forever.

[Dan 3:73]

God's peace