Homily: Christmas Vigil

Note: This isn't a newly written homily. I wrote it some years ago, but tend to use if I'm called to preach at the Christmas Vigil Mass. This year I won't be preaching, but I thought some folks might enjoy my take on Matthew's wonderful genealogy of Our Lord Jesus.

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Readings: Is 62:1-5; Ps 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 seems to be 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?

Well, 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, begins by saying:

“The beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God…”

Yes, Mark wastes no time identifying Jesus.

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

“Therefore, the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God.”

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.”

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.”

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. And so Matthew 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 sound a bit strange to us, they’re all real people and offer a glimpse into the entire history of God’s 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. 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.”

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 she becomes a faithful woman. 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. It sounds a lot like fodder for the tabloids. 

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. Yes, Jesus’s family is a human family and like most human families, has its share of saints and sinners. But 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, throughout the genealogy it's all father to son, and father to son…except at the very end. Matthew completes the genealogy with the words:

“Joseph, the husband of Mary. Of her was born Jesus who is called the Christ.”

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. Yes, 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?” 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. Yes, 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!

 

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]

 

Women in Sacred Scripture

In recent months I've prepared a number of study guides for our parish's Bible Study program. The goal -- other than to keep me busy during these long months of semi-confinement at home -- is to encourage our nearly 100 participants to continue reading their Bibles until we can get together again in our weekly sessions. I receive occasional positive comments from our participants, and to date no one has panned my little guides, so I suppose that's good. I hope these small efforts have been beneficial.

Anyway, my recent studies include an updated guide for the Book of Ruth and a new guide for the Book of Judith. Currently I'm working on a guide for the Book of Esther, a task that's taking me a bit longer than I had envisioned. Esther, one of the more complex books of Sacred Scripture, is consequently more difficult to present in my usual fairly brief format. I hope to complete it this week, but other life-demands seem to interrupt me whenever I sit down to work. 

Although I didn't intend to focus on Biblical books centered on women, it seems to have worked out that way. In these books we encounter truly remarkable women who, despite numerous social, economic, and even religious barriers, achieved great things. Although they certainly set an example of personal courage and fortitude for women of every age, they were primarily women of tremendous faith. It was their faith and their trust in God that enabled them to overcome many seemingly unsurmountable obstacles. In every instance, the efforts of these women might have led to far better personal situations, but ultimately the end they sought was the greater glory of God. And in this they set the best example for all of us, women and men alike.

Every Christmas, at the Mass during the Night (what we used to call "Midnight Mass") we proclaim the genealogy found in the opening verses of the Gospel according to Matthew [Mt 1:1-17]. If I'm called to preach at that Mass, I like to draw attention to the women whom Matthew includes in the genealogy of Jesus. 

With the sole exception of Mary, the women mentioned by Matthew are all Gentiles: Tamar and Rahab were Canaanites, Ruth was a Moabite, Bathsheba was a Hittite. Jesus' family tree, then, 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. 

And He came especially for sinners.  Again, consider those women. With the exception of Ruth, they, like the men who fill the pages of Scripture, were rather public sinners. Tamar disguised herself as a prostitute to fool her father-in-law, Judah, and ended up giving birth to his twin sons. Rahab actually was a prostitute, and yet a faithful woman. And Bathsheba? From the roof of his house King David watched her bathing, invited her in, seduced her, and had her husband killed, so he could marry her. Solomon, their son, started right with God, but eventually joined his many wives in worshipping idols.

Yes, indeed, God's plan of salvation is universal. Humanity, and that includes every one of us, saints and sinners, men and women -- we're all called into the Family of God.

Recently Diane and I were reminded of one of these women mentioned by Matthew. We escaped for a brief vacation and spent several days in the hills of north Georgia. Visiting the town square of Clarkesville, Georgia, we bought a few items from a shop that supports a mission called "Rahab's Rope" dedicated to empowering women and children in the fight against human trafficking. The name of the mission comes from chapter two of the Book of Joshua in which Rahab, a prostitute in Jericho, and an ancestor of Our Lord, helped the Israelite spies escape:

Then she let them down through the window with a rope, for she lived in a house built into the city wall [Jos 2:15].

Rahab, inspired by the Holy Spirit, acted courageously, and helped bring about the Israelite victory. The result: 

Because Rahab the prostitute had hidden the messengers whom Joshua had sent to reconnoiter Jericho, Joshua let her live, along with her father's house and all her family, who dwell in the midst of Israel to this day [Jos 6:25].

But human trafficking isn't something restricted to the third world. It's right here in the U.S.A. and is growing thanks to our now almost wide-open border. The drug cartels have discovered they can make additional millions from the unholy trafficking of women and children whom they essentially sell into slavery. While so many today seem focused on the slavery of our distant past, they ignore the very real, very vicious form of slavery that's right here, right now.

Homily: December 17

Readings: Gn 49:2,8-10; Ps 72; Mt 1:1-17
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When people first turn to the New Testament, they often get discouraged because right there on the first page of the first book is Matthew's genealogy. And so they just jump ahead to the Nativity story. That's really unfortunate because this rhythmic poetic passage tells us some very important things.

Indeed, Matthew begins as Genesis begins, with the beginning, and summarizes 2,000 years of history, from Abraham all the way to Jesus Christ. In this genealogy Matthew offers the Gospel as the New Genesis, a new beginning through Jesus.

Abraham, Our Father in Faith

From this we encounter a major Gospel theme: the New Testament doesn't replace the Old; it fulfills it. And Matthew first aims this Good News directly at you and me - at sinners - by drawing our attention to Judah, Tamar, Rahab, and David.

He reminds us that the sinful relationship between Judah and Tamar led to King David and ultimately to Jesus Himself.

Nathan to King David: You Are the Man! (1 Sam 12:7)

He reminds us that Rahab, Boaz's mother, was a prostitute, and that Solomon's mother was Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah the Hittite. We recall how David seduced her and had her husband killed so he could marry her.

Yes, Jesus' family tree is littered with sinners, just like mine and just like yours.

St. Joseph: Blessed are the Merciful

But through this revelation we come to realize the depth of God's mercy. Despite our sinfulness, we're all called into God's family. What a gift! Here too God pleads with us to extend mercy to others. For in that genealogy we encounter those who went far beyond the demands of the law: Judah, Boaz, Uriah, and especially Joseph.

It's a plea expressed explicitly a few chapters later in the Beatitudes: "Blessed are the merciful for they shall be shown mercy" [Mt 5:7]. Advent, then, is the perfect time to repair shattered relationships, especially family relationships, the perfect time to extend mercy to others and to yourself.

But Matthew's not finished. He also reminds us that God's ways are not man's ways. Throughout the genealogy we find God rejecting our ways, tossing aside the patterns of inheritance and choosing whom He will choose.

Jacob is "the father of Judah and his brothers" [Mt 1:2; Gen 49:8] Here and elsewhere Matthew reminds us that God will bypass first sons and choose younger brothers like Isaac, Jacob, and Judah to lead His People. This, too, is Good News, for unlike man, God is not only merciful, but His ways are just.

God continues to pile up the Good News, for Jesus' family, the family of the Kings of Israel, is not a family of ethnic purity. It's littered with Gentiles. For example, with the sole exception of Mary, the women mentioned are all Gentiles: Tamar and Rahab are Canaanites, Ruth a Moabite, Bathsheba a Hittite. God's plan of salvation, then, is universal. The entirety of humanity is called into God's family.

The Women in the Genealogy of Jesus (Mt 1)

This is the Advent message, brothers and sisters, the message of the angel: "You shall name him Jesus and he shall be called Emmanuel" [Mt 1:23; Lk 1:31], which means, "God is with us."  God is with us - not some nameless, faceless them, but us - and not some of us, but all of us. It's the message of a passionate God, of a God whose love is overpowering. This is what we celebrate: God's fierce zeal for us, His commitment not to leave us abandoned.

It comes down to this: God is unwilling to leave us in the darkness of our own sinfulness. Advent demonstrates God's terrible desire to "be with us," to be part of the human condition: God with us in our entirety. Quite simply, God won't let us alone. He wants to be Emmanuel.

Inundated by materialism, by the spiritual sickness of the world, so many forget why the Magi carried those first gifts to a newborn baby in a manger. The true Advent and Christmas message isn't Amazon dot com. It's Emmanuel, God with skin on and a human face. God became one of us to turn His face to us, to speak words of comfort, reconciliation, and redemption, words we can understand. This is what we anticipate today, an advent that heralds our salvation.

A few years ago at the soup kitchen, while schmoozing with our guests, I spotted a mother and her little baby girl. As I approached, little Alisha saw my smile and reached out her arms to me. I couldn't resist. I picked up this beautiful child and she just snuggled right up against me and buried her little head into my chest with her tiny hands gripping my shoulder.

My first thought? "Here's a little baby that needed a hug." Then I realized how wrong I was. Alisha had been perfectly happy being held by her mom, with whom I could never hope to compete. No, Alisha didn't need my hugs. But she knew that I sure needed hers.

You see, brothers and sisters, in a very real way, little Alisha is the meaning of Advent. God with us. God with Alisha. For that brief moment Alisha is God's love. She's the Advent of God reaching for us. She's God's arms; she's God's zeal; she's God's passion for each of us.

For God loves us despite our foolishness. He loves us with our broken lives, our selfishness, our tattered relationships, our foolish sins. God is two tiny arms determined to break into our lives. On Christmas Day He's a fierce little baby who makes no distinctions but embraces the least likely along with the most likely.

This is what Advent is all about: preparing us for God's unrelenting love feast. Not a sappy sentimental love, but a love as searing as any passionate romance. We celebrate God's fulfilled desire to be with us. This is His gift.

If God isn't Emmanuel, if He's not with us, if He hasn't embraced our tattered lives, then there's no hope, no light, only darkness and despair.

If God isn't with us, we're here today out of fruitless hope, or pressured routine, or empty sentimentality.

But if we're here out of love, if we're here like ragtag shepherds to kneel and rejoice and let God take us in His arms, then we've caught the meaning of this Advent: Emmanuel, the passionate God, has had his way and has hugged us fiercely.

When sin, suffering and death scatter our souls far and wide that's when we need God the most. And that's when Jesus comes to us to guide us to His Father's loving arms.

It's all grace, brothers and sisters. It's all gift. What more is there to say?

Homily: Christmas Vigil - Year B

Readings: Gn 49:2, 8-10; Psalm 72; Mt 1:1-17______________________________

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?

Well, 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, begins by saying: “The beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God…” Yes, Mark wastes no time identifying Jesus.

Luke’s a bit more subtle. He takes half a chapter before he finally gets to Jesus, and then he lets the angel Gabriel do the honors: “Therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God.”

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.”

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 genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham.” These are titles any Jew would recognize, for these 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. And so Matthew completes his genealogy with the first and only name in the 7th group of 7: the name of Jesus. For a Jew this was as perfect as you could get.

Although some of these names sound a bit strange to us, they’re all real people and offer a glimpse into the entire history of God’s 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.

It was 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 a faithful woman. And Bathsheba? King David watched her bathing from the roof of his house, invited her in, seduced her, and had her husband killed, so he could marry her. Solomon, their son, started right with God, but eventually 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.

Yes, Jesus’s family is a human family and like most human families, has its share of saints and sinners. But 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: “Joseph, the husband of Mary. Of her was born Jesus who is called the Christ.” 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 to us through all those many generations that 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. Yes, 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?” 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 can join Jesus on that same family tree described by Matthew. We become heirs and can inherit the fruit of the promises God made to Abraham and to all 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. Yes, 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.

Pope Benedict wrote that “Eucharist, in which the Lord gives us His Body and makes us one body, forever remains the place where the Church is generated, where the Lord Himself never ceases to be found anew; in the Eucharist the Church is most completely herself – in all places, yet one only.”

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.

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!

Homily: Christmas Vigil

For the second time in a week, the readings for a Mass at which I was asked to preach included the genealogy the begins Matthew's Gospel. And so here's my second homily on this wonderful passage that spans the history of salvation from Abraham to the birth of Jesus.

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

A lot of folks, when they first turn to the New Testament, get discouraged because right there on the first page of the first book of the New Testament they encounter Matthew’s genealogy. And so they skip it and jump ahead to the Nativity story.

That’s really unfortunate because, this rhythmic poetic passage is included by Matthew to tell us some very important things. For through this genealogy and the Nativity story that follows, Matthew presents the Gospel as the New Genesis. Indeed, in both sections of our passage, he uses the same opening words we find at the beginning of the Book of Genesis. And just as Genesis offers us two sides of the Creation story, so too does Matthew. He relates the New Genesis story in two very different ways.

Matthew’s genealogy summarizes the entire history of Israel, almost 2,000 years, from Abraham all the way to Jesus Christ. Then, in the first line of the Nativity story, he proclaims that we are reading about “the beginning” – yes, the beginning, the Genesis of Jesus Christ. Here Matthew presents us with a major Gospel theme: the New Testament doesn’t replace the Old; it fulfills it. And at the very core of this understanding is the “Good News” for it permeates both Old and New Testaments.

Matthew first aims this Good News directly at you and me: at sinners. He does so by drawing our attention to Judah, Tamar, Rahab, and David. He reminds us that the sinful relationship between Judah and Tamar led eventually to King David and ultimately to Jesus Himself. He reminds us that Rahab, Boaz’s mother, was a prostitute, and that Solomon’s mother was Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah the Hittite. And we recall how David seduced her and had her husband killed so he could marry her.

Yes, Jesus’s family tree is littered with sinners, just like mine and just like yours. But through this revelation we come to realize the depth of God’s mercy. Despite our sinfulness, we’re all called into God’s family. What a gift!

Through Matthew God pleads with us to extend mercy to others. For in that genealogy we encounter those who went far beyond the demands of the law:  Judah, Boaz, Uriah, and especially Joseph…It’s a plea expressed explicitly a few chapters later in the Beatitudes: “Blessed are the merciful for they shall be shown mercy.” Christmas, then, is the perfect time to repair shattered relationships, the perfect time to extend mercy to others and to yourself.

But Matthew’s not finished. He also reminds us that God’s ways are not man’s ways. Throughout the genealogy we find God rejecting our human laws, tossing aside the patterns of inheritance and choosing whom He will choose. Jacob is “the father of Judah and his brothers” –Yes, here and elsewhere Matthew reminds us that God often bypasses first sons and chooses younger brothers like Judah to lead His People. This, too, is Good News, for unlike man, God is not only merciful, but His ways are just.

God continues to pile Good News on top of Good News…for the family of Jesus, the family of the Kings of Israel, is not a family of ethnic purity. It’s filled with Gentiles. With the sole exception of Mary, the women mentioned are all Gentiles: Tamar and Rahab are Canaanites, Ruth a Moabite, Bathsheba a Hittite. God’s plan of salvation, then, is universal. Humanity, and that includes every one of us, is called into God’s family.

This is the message of Christmas, brothers and sisters, the message of the angel: "You shall name him Jesus and he shall be called Emmanuel," which means, "God is with us."  God is with us – not some nameless, faceless them, but us…and not some of us, but all of us. This is the message of a passionate God. It’s the message of a God whose love is overpowering.

This is what we celebrate: God’s fierce zeal for us, His commitment not to leave us abandoned. It comes down to this: God is unwilling to leave us in the darkness of our own sinfulness. What we have in Christmas is a terrible desire on God's part to "be with us," to be part of the human condition: God with us in our entirety. Quite simply, God just won’t let us alone. He wants to be Emmanuel.

And it’s this remarkable action on God’s part, this divine decision to become one of us, that so many have trouble accepting. Inundated by materialism, by the spiritual sickness of the world, so many forget why the Magi carried those first gifts to a newborn baby in a manger. The true Christmas message isn’t amazon dot com. It’s Emmanuel, God with skin on and a human face. God became one of us to turn His face to us, to speak words of comfort, reconciliation, and redemption, words we can understand. It’s this gentle birth we celebrate tonight; it’s this gentle birth that heralds our salvation.

Not long ago at the soup kitchen, while schmoozing with our guests, I spotted a mother and her little baby girl. As I approached, little Alisha saw my smile and reached out her arms to me. I couldn’t resist. I picked up this beautiful child and she just snuggled right up against me and buried her little head into my chest with her tiny hands gripping my shoulders.

My first thought? “Here’s a little baby that needed some hugging.” Then I realized how wrong I was. Alisha had been perfectly happy being held by her mom, with whom I could never hope to compete. No, Alisha didn’t need my hugs; but she knew that I sure needed hers. You see, brothers and sisters, in a very real way, this little baby is the meaning of Christmas. God with us. God with Alisha. For that brief moment Alisha is God’s love. Alisha is Christmas. She’s God's arms; she’s God’s zeal; she’s God’s passion for each of us.

For God loves us despite our foolishness. He loves us with our broken lives, our selfishness, our tattered relationships, our foolish sins. God is two tiny arms determined to break into our lives. He’s a fierce little baby who makes no distinctions but embraces the least likely along with most likely.

This is what the feast of Christmas is about -- an enormously unrelenting love feast. And not a sappy sentimental love, but a love as searing as any passionate romance. Christmas is God's fulfilled desire to be with us. This is what and why we celebrate. This is His gift.

If God isn’t Emmanuel, if He’s not with us, if He hasn’t embraced our tattered lives, then woe unto us. If God isn’t with us, there’s no hope, no light, only darkness and despair. If God isn’t with us, we’re here tonight out of fruitless hope, or pressured routine, or empty sentimentality.

But if we’re here out of love, if we’re here like ragtag shepherds to kneel and rejoice and let God take us in His arms, then we’ve caught the meaning of Christmas: Emmanuel, the passionate God, has had his way and has hugged us fiercely. When sin, suffering and death scatter our souls far and wide that’s when we need God the most. And that’s when Jesus comes to us to guide us to His Father’s loving arms.

It’s all grace, brothers and sisters. It’s all gift. What more is there to say on this Christmas Eve? And so tonight, as we sit quietly and let God’s love comfort us, as we gaze upon the scene of that first Christmas Eve so long ago, we invite the words of the carol into our hearts…

Silent night, Holy Night!
Shepherds quake at the sight.
Glories stream from heaven afar
Heavenly hosts sing “Alleluia”
Christ the Savior is born!
Christ the Savior is born.

A blessed, peaceful and holy Christmas to each and every one of you, and to all your loved ones, near and far.

Homily: December 17

For the past few evenings our pastor, Father Peter, conducted a mission in the parish on the meaning and spirituality of the Eucharist. It was a wonderful mission in which he shared many insights into God's gift of this special sacrament, the "source and summit of the Christian life." Yesterday evening we completed the mission with a Mass of Thanksgiving, at which Father Peter was assisted by the deacons of the parish. I was honored to be asked to preach. The following is my homily.

________________________________

Readings: Gn 49:2, 8-10; Psalm 72; Mt 1:1-17

One of our sons is very into genealogy. So far he’s limited his efforts to my wife’s side of the family. Among her ancestors – and sadly they’re all very English – are many early settlers in Virginia, officers who fought in the American Revolution, and even an adviser to the first Queen Elizabeth.

I hope our son tires of all this before he begins to investigate my family, mostly Irish dirt farmers who probably worked as serfs for Diane’s ancestors. I’d prefer to leave them in the fog of family history.

My Grandfather, Father and Great-grandfather (1911)

And yet, our roots, even when they’re not very distinguished, have real meaning, don’t they? Indeed, one of my favorite family photos was taken over a century ago, in 1911. It’s a photo of my father, who was just a toddler, standing with his father and grandfather. Looking at it the other day, my grandchildren came to mind. For them, that same photo will be even more remarkable, since it depicts their great-grandfather, great-great-grandfather, and great-great-great grandfather.

Now for the McCarthys, that’s something, since in their poverty my ancestors didn’t generate a lot of genealogical material. But that’s better than a friend. Adopted as an infant he never knew anything about his birth family. And then sadly, when he 16, his adoptive parents died in an accident. He was again an orphan. As he liked to say, “I’m a man with no roots.” He said it as a joke, but always with a trace of sadness.

I once told him he was wrong – that as a Catholic he had deep roots, spiritual roots that stretched back 4,000 years to Abraham, our father in faith. Not only that, I told him, but you can trace that spiritual lineage from the priest who baptized you, through the bishop who ordained him, all the way back to the apostles and to Jesus Himself. And from there he need only turn to the opening verses of Matthew’s Gospel and follow the path all the way back to Abraham.

Through his faith his roots are deeper, stronger and longer lasting than any family roots. Indeed, they’re so strong they’ll carry him all the way to eternal life. And do you know something wonderful? You and I share those roots, we have that same family tree.

What a gift this is! And it’s one of the key messages of the Gospel. The Gospel takes us deeply into those spiritual roots, and binds us in a living connection with Jesus Christ Himself.

In many respects, each of our four Gospels begins with the same message: each identifies Jesus, and each in a different way.

Mark, in his usual Sergeant Friday, just-the-facts-Ma’am approach, begins by saying: “The beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God…” [Mk 1:1] Yes, Mark wastes no time telling us who Jesus is.

Luke, well he’s much more subtle and takes half a chapter before he finally gets to Jesus, and then he lets the angel Gabriel do the 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 genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham.” [Mt 1:1]

Christ, Son of David, Son of Abraham…These are titles any Jew would recognize, for these 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. And so Jesus would complete this by being the first and only name in the 7th group. For a Jew that was about as perfect as you could get.

Many of the names we recognize, although some sound a bit strange to us; but they’re all real people and they give us a glimpse into the entire history of God’s 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…

Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba, Mary

Among these names are those of 5 women, not something often found in ancient genealogies. The last 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, for all of us.

And it was 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 a faithful woman. And Bathsheba? King David watched her bathing from the roof of his house, invited her in, seduced her, and had her husband killed, so he could marry her. And Solomon, their son, who started right with God, eventually joined his many wives in worshiping 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.

Yes, 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. We discover that Jesus’s family is a human family and like most human families, has its share of saints and sinners. But from this, we learn that God’s plan was accomplished through them all, and that He continues to work through us, His people.

Matthew completes his genealogy with the words: “...Joseph, the husband of Mary. Of her was born Jesus who is called the Christ.” [Mt 1:16]

The genealogy relates father to son, father to son, father to son…except here. For Matthew does not declare Joseph to be the father of Jesus. Jesus, the Christ, is born of Mary, the virgin, with God as His Father.

Abba! Father!

I’ll repeat myself: what a gift this genealogy is, 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 that we’ve concocted. For Christianity is really a revelation rather than a religion. Christianity is God’s Word and God’s Work; it’s 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 that God revealed Himself to us through all those many generations that 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 – the fulfillment of it all. Yes, 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.” [Mt 1:16]

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 can join Jesus on that same family tree described by Matthew. We become heirs and can inherit the fruit of the promises God made to Abraham and to all 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. Yes, 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, 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.

Pope Benedict wrote that “Eucharist, in which the Lord gives us His Body and makes us one body, forever remains the place where the Church is generated, where the Lord Himself never ceases to be found anew; in the Eucharist the Church is most completely herself – in all places, yet one only.”

Eucharist, which means thanksgiving, is like a great family Thanksgiving dinner, and yet far more wonderful and fulfilling than any family meal at home.

Brothers and sisters, we are sons and daughters of God!

Let us rejoice that our names are written in heaven, as members of the family of Jesus Christ.

Digging for My Roots

Thanks to our dear friends, the Lees, Diane and I will travel to Ireland at the end of the summer. Our friends called to tell us they had a couple of extra tickets to the "Emerald Isle Classic" -- the Navy-Notre Dame football game -- being played in Dublin on September 1st. (That's American football for all you Europeans out there.) Would we like to join them? Well, there was only one reasonable answer to such a question, so I started doing what I enjoy most: planning our two-week trip. Not only will we get to see what I hope will be a Navy victory over a highly favored Notre Dame team, but we'll also spend some time touring the country.

Although I've traveled rather extensively in Europe, I have never been to Ireland, the home of all my ancestors. Indeed, three of my four grandparents were born in Ireland. The family of the fourth, my paternal grandfather, had left Ireland and settled in the United States a generation or so earlier, probably at the time of the potato famine in the 1840s.

My paternal grandparents, c. 1940

My grandfather, however, was born in Canada, accidentally, he claimed, when his parents were visiting family in Quebec. This inadvertent Canadian birth of the son of two American citizens caused him no end of trouble throughout his life, but especially during his Army service in the Spanish-American War and Boxer Rebellion.

Thomas Moran

I barely knew Grandpa. He died when I was only five years old. And I know even less about his side of the family. Tracking down this group of ancestors might be a challenge.

I know more, however, about his wife's family, the Morans. My paternal grandmother died in 1960, having outlived her husband by ten years. She was the only grandparent I knew well. Born in Ireland she came to America as a toddler sometime around 1880 and often spoke to me of the voyage which she swore was on a sailing vessel -- quite the adventure for a small child. I've included a photo of her father, my great grandfather, Thomas Moran -- a rather distinguished looking gent even if his tie is a bit crooked.

My grandmother's family came to the United States from Mullingar in county Westmeath and so I assume I have some distant relatives still living there. My father was able to touch base with a few some years ago, and so I intend to spend several days in Mullingar searching them out. The photo below is of Thomas Moran's brother, Jim Moran, my great, great uncle. He stayed in Mullingar and died years ago at the age of 99.

Jim Moran of Mullingar

I never knew my maternal grandparents who died long before I was born. Interestingly I discovered only recently that both were born in Ireland. I had just assumed they were born in this country, but each listed Ireland as his and her place of birth on my mother's birth certificate. Unfortunately they included no town or county, and my mother never spoke much of her parents.

It would seem, then, that these fairly shallow roots leave me with a genealogical challenge which I will happily pass on to one of my children. My elder son is probably the best candidate since he seems to enjoy this sort of research. He's already dug rather deeply into Dear Diane's family past and uncovered a number of distinguished early American and English forebears.No doubt at some point we'll discover that her family owned my family. Such was the fate of the Irish in times past.

But I will look instead to the future and plan to enjoy this trip with my beautiful wife and wonderful friends.

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