"ELIJAH HAS ALREADY COME."

Homily for December 15^th, 2018: Matthew 17:10-13.

          When the President comes to town, he rides in a bullet proof limousine (a sign of the violent and dangerous age in which we live). Preceding him are numerous policemen on motorcycles, and others in police cars. This almost military procession is more than is actually needed to protect the Chief Executive. It is done to prepare people for the one who is coming.

          Jesus’ people, the Jews, also expected that when the Lord’s anointed, the Messiah, came he too would be preceded by an entourage, including a prophet who would prepare the way for the Lord’s servant. The Old Testament speaks of this in a number of places, especially in the book of the prophet Malachi, who writes: “Lo, I will send you Elijah, the prophet, before the day of the Lord comes, the great and terrible day, to turn the hearts of the children to their fathers, lest I come and strike the land with doom” (3:23f).

          In the gospel reading we have just heard Matthew tell us that Jesus’ disciples recalled this tradition about Elijah coming. Where is he, they want to know? He has already come, Jesus replies. But people did not recognize him. In fact, they killed him. Then Matthew writes, “the disciples understood the [Jesus] was speaking to them of John the Baptist.”

          Mark’s gospel tells us that John’s message was twofold. He preached repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And he proclaimed One who was coming after him. He would be greater than John, baptizing not with water but with the Holy Spirit (Mark 1:1-8). That is exactly what the gospels record. Though Jesus accepted baptism himself, there is no record of his ever baptizing anyone else. Instead, immediately after his resurrection, Jesus “breathed on [the disciples] and said: ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive men’s sins they are forgiven them; if you hold them bound, they are held bound’” (John 20:22f. )

          Was that just in ancient times? Not at all. That is still happening today. Jesus is still breathing on us and giving us the Holy Spirit. And in the sacrament of penance or confession he is still forgiving our sins through the men, themselves sinners, whom he has empowered to do this in his name. I made my own confession just a week ago, knowing that it is the best possible preparation for Christmas. If you have not yet done that, I hope you will. Then you will be ready for the coming of your Savior and Lord, who is also your elder brother, your lover, and your best friend.

"FEAR NOT, I WILL HELP YOU."

Homily for December 13^th, 2018: Isaiah 41:13-20.

          “I am the Lord your God, who grasp your right hand; it is I who say to you, ‘Fear not, I will help you.’” Bible scholars tell us that the book of the prophet Isaiah, from which these words in our first reading are taken, is actually three different books, put together by an editor. The first 39 chapters of the book are a warning to God’s people. ‘God is not mocked,’ the prophet tells them. ‘If you do not repent of your personal and national sins, your holy city of Jerusalem, of which you are so proud and which is so dear to you, will be taken from you. The Temple will be destroyed. And you will be carried off into exile.’

          At the beginning of chapter 40, however, the tone of the book changes radically: from warning to consolation and encouragement. The warnings in the first 39 chapters have become reality. The Temple lies in ruins, and the people have been carried off into exile in Babylon. What they need now is assurance that the God who has permitted them to suffer for their sins is still with them. “Fear not, I will help you,” God tells them through his prophet. “Fear not, O worm Jacob, O maggot, Israel: I will help you, says the Lord.” What kind of language is that? It is the way a mother – or it could be a father also – speaks to the infant whom she holds in her arms. The words “worm” and “maggot” are not expressions of contempt. They are terms of endearment.

Then, in a passage of great literary beauty, the prophet compares those he is addressing as people dying of thirst. “The afflicted and the needy seek water in vain, their tongues are parched with thirst.” Then comes this response: “I, the Lord will answer them, I will not forsake them. I will open up rivers on the bare heights I will turn the desert into a marsh, and the dry ground into springs of water.” God promises his people that he will do even the impossible to support and help them. Farther than that love cannot go.  

We sometimes hear that the Old Testament is about God’s law, and the New Testament about his love. Not true! The Old Testament shows numerous examples of God’s love. And in the New Testament Jesus says: “Do not think that I have come to abolish the law and the prophets. I have come, not to abolish them, but to fulfill them” (Matt 5:17). God never changes. He gave the Law to Moses: ten signposts pointing human flourishing and happiness. But he is also the God love: infinitely tender, infinitely compassionate.

"NOTHING WILL BE IMPOSSIBLE FOR GOD."

Homily for December 12^th, 2018. Luke 1:26-38

          Fourteen days before Christmas we come to Mass, and what do we hear? The story of the angel Gabriel’s visit to Mary, telling her that she is to be the mother of God’s Son. What’s going on?

What’s going on is the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe. On December 9^th, 1531 a Mexican peasant, Juan Diego, encountered a girl at the hill of Tepeyac who told him to go to the archbishop of nearby Mexico City and ask him to build a shrine there in her honor. Recognizing that the girl was Mary, Juan Diego went to the archbishop and placed Mary’s request before him. ‘Go back to Tepeyac,’ the archbishop told Juan Diego, ‘and if the girl appears again, tell her I must have some sign to authenticate her request.’

Three days later the girl reappeared and told Juan Diego to gather some roses, put them in his cloak, and take them to the archbishop. Although it was cold and long past the time of roses, Juan Diego found plenty of roses atop the normally barren hill. He filled his cloak with them and returned to the archbishop. When he opened his cloak, the flowers fell to the floor, revealing on the inside of the cloak an image of Mary. The image survives today, enshrined in the great church of Guadalupe, at the edge of Mexico City. It is the most visited Marian shrine in the whole world. Despite extensive examinations of the image, there is no scientific explanation of how it was produced or how it has survived intact for almost five centuries..

Nor has there ever been any explanation of how Mary, while still a virgin, conceived the baby boy whose birth we shall celebrate in just 14 days. When Mary herself asked the angel Gabriel who brought her this astounding news how such a thing was possible, she received simply the words: “Nothing will be impossible with God.” Some thirty-three years later (according to the traditional dating), her Son experienced something no less impossible than his virginal conception. On the third day after his public death by crucifixion, his tomb was found empty, and he started to appear to those who had loved him before. Jesus is not a dead hero from the past. He is our risen and glorified Lord, alive forevermore, holding in his hand the keys of death. He waits for each one of us at the end of life’s road, to lead us to the place he has gone ahead to prepare for us. There we shall experience not just joy, but ecstasy –for we shall see God face to face!     

 

"REJOICE IN THE LORD ALWAYS!"

Third Sunday in Advent, Year C.  Zeph. 3:14-18a; Phil. 4:4-7; Luke 3:10-18

AIM:  To help the hearers experience Christian joy.

 

Is there anyone here who does not remember Mother Teresa, now Saint Teresa of Calcutta? Can anyone forget her radiant smile? A secular journalist wrote about her: AWhen she smiles and laughs, which she does often ... the human clay molds itself in unambiguous joy.@ Can there be any doubt that Mother Teresa was a living embodiment of the theme of our liturgy on this third Sunday in Advent: joy

ASing joyfully, O Israel!@ we heard in the first reading. ABe glad and exult with all your heart.@ The responsorial psalm continued this theme: ACry out with joy and gladness.@ Paul repeats it in the second reading. Writing from a Roman prison, hardly a place of joy, he tells the Christian community at Philippi: ARejoice in the Lord always!@ And joy is evident also in the gospel description of the people=s reaction to the preaching of John the Baptist: AThe people were filled with expectation@ B or, as another translation has it, they were Aon tiptoe of expectation@ [New English Bible] B Aand all were asking in their hearts whether John might be the Christ.@

Would a stranger visiting a Catholic church on Sunday morning find people Aon tiptoe of expectation,@ radiating Mother Teresa’s Aunambiguous joy@? In some places, perhaps. But in many others definitely not. Why are there so many bored, joyless faces in Catholic churches B on both sides of the altar? One reason, surely, is the emphasis we place on obligations. Catholics who come to Mass on Sunday simply to fulfill a legal obligation – to get their card punched -- are hardly likely to experience much joy.

Now don=t get me wrong. Obligations are important. They are the bridges that carry us over life=s valleys, when zeal and enthusiasm slacken. Sunday Mass, however, is meant to be more than just an obligation. It is a celebration. A religion which never gets beyond fulfilling a list of obligations will always be joyless. Though our religious obligations are defined in minimum terms, Catholics who are concerned simply with fulfilling these obligations experience them as heavy burdens, without which life would be much more pleasant. 

A religion of minimum obligations only is based on the idea of a remote God who makes unpleasant demands on us, and punishes us when we fail to measure up.  If we don=t want any trouble, therefore, we=d better satisfy God=s demands.  Catholics who think of God like that tend to think that once they have satisfied God=s demands, they are free to live the rest of their lives as they please. Such people are living with God on the fringe of their lives. At the center are their own plans, their own desires, their own Apursuit of happiness.@

At this point I must tell you something that may surprise you. As long as God is on the fringe of your life, he will always be a threat to you. Why? Because he will always be trying to move from the fringe into the center. That is why there are so many joyless faces in church on Sunday morning. Most of the people behind those faces probably think of God as someone threatening and remote, on the fringe of their lives, whom they are trying to appease by fulfilling a list of minimum obligations. Such a God is always a threat. He seems always to be asking for more; wanting to move from the fringe into the center. 

         Have you ever felt threatened by God? Would you like to end that threat? To make your religion a source of joy, rather than a burden? You can B and it=s very simple. All you have to do is move God from the fringe of your life into the center.  If your religion is based upon fulfilling a list of minimum obligations, that will sound very threatening. Once God is at the center of my life, you=re probably asking, won=t he take over and smother me with his demands?

In reality, precisely the opposite is the case. A religion which places God at the center is the only kind of religion that can produce joy. Show me a follower of Jesus Christ who radiates the Aunambiguous joy@ that even a secular journalist saw in Mother Teresa, and I will show you someone who never asks: >How little can I give to God and still satisfy my obligation? How late can I come to Mass, for instance, and how early can I hurry away, and still have it Acount@?= People whose religion brings them joy, and who radiate that joy to others, ask a very different question: >If God has given me all that I have and am, apart from my sins, how much do I dare keep for myself?=   

That is the question Mother Teresa asked when, at age thirty-six, she felt called by God to leave the security of her Principal=s job in a convent school for wealthy girls in Calcutta in order to devote the rest of her life to the service of the poor. She had no money and no companions. It took her over a year just to get permission to leave her convent for new work. At her death, however, there were almost 3000 women in 132 countries worldwide who had joined her Missionaries of Charity B and that in a day in which, in our country alone, over 100,000 women left the convent to pursue other paths. 

Comparatively few people are called in the special away that Mother Teresa was B though some are. Somewhere in this church right now there is a young person whom God is calling to be a Sister, a religious Brother, or a priest. Ahead of you is a wonderful life! Respond generously to God=s call, and you will discover that the Lord will never be outdone in generosity. How do I know that? I know it from my own experience. When I was just twelve years old, the Lord put into my heart the desire to be a priest. Since then, I=ve never wanted anything else. I=ve been a priest now for over 61 years. And I=ve never regretted it: not one single day. The late Chicago novelist and sociologist, Fr. Andrew Greeley, writes: APriests who like being priests are among the happiest men in the world.@ I can confirm that from my own experience. [I’ve written about that experience in a book called No Ordinary Fool: A Testimony to Grace. It’s the story of my difficult journey to the Catholic Church: I was a priest in the Episcopal Church for six years before I became a Catholic, and later a priest. And it’s the story too of a man who, more than 64 years after ordination, is still in love with priesthood.]

Let me tell you finally about another man who was in love with priesthood. He died in Rome sixteen years ago as a cardinal: the Vietnamese bishop Francis Xavier Van Thuan. When the Communists took over South Vietnam in 1975, he had just been made archbishop of Saigon. He was arrested and imprisoned for thirteen years. He writes:

AWhen I was arrested, I had to leave immediately with empty hands. The next day I was permitted to write to my people asking for the most necessary things: clothes, toothpaste. I wrote, >Please send me a little wine as medicine for my stomach ache.= The faithful understood right away. They sent me a small bottle of wine for Mass with a label that read, >Medicine for stomach aches.= They also sent me some hosts, hidden in a flashlight.  

AThe police asked me: >You have stomach aches?= >Yes,= I told them. >Here=s some medicine for you,= they said.

AI will never be able to express my great joy! Every day, with three drops of wine and a drop of water in the palm of my hand, I would celebrate Mass. This was my altar, and this was my cathedral! It was true medicine for soul and body.

AEach time I celebrated Mass, I had the opportunity to extend my hands and nail myself to the cross with Jesus, to drink with him the bitter chalice. Each day in reciting the words of consecration, I confirmed with all my heart and soul a new pact, an eternal pact between Jesus and me through his blood mixed with mine. Those were the most beautiful Masses of my life!@

Those words challenge us. Does the Mass mean, for us, even a fraction of what it meant to that imprisoned bishop?

______________________________________________________

 

The bishop=s story is taken from Francis Xavier Van Than, Testimony of Hope (Boston: Pauline Books, 2000) p. 131.

 

THE LOST SHEEP

Homily for December 11^th, 2018: Matt. 18:12-14.

          “If a man has a hundred sheep and one of them goes astray, will he not leave the ninety-nine in the hills and go in search of the stray?” Jesus’ rhetorical question invites the answer, “Of course, any shepherd would do that.” In reality, no shepherd in his right mind would think for a moment of  doing what Jesus’ question suggests. That would risk turning a minor misfortune, the loss of a single sheep, into a major disaster: the dispersal and possible loss of the entire flock.

          ‘That’s how good God is,’ Jesus is saying with this simple parable. God’s care for us is not reasonable, measured, prudent. God’s love for us is reckless, according to ordinary worldly standards. When we stray from him, God will go to any lengths, and wait without limit, to get us back.

          But what about Jesus’ following words about the shepherd rejoicing more over the one lost sheep than over the ninety-nine who never strayed? Shouldn’t there be some rejoicing, at least, over those who never left the flock?

          To answer that question we must ask another. Who are these ninety-nine who never went astray? Do you know anyone like that? I don’t. Oh, I know many people who think they have never strayed from their heavenly Father’s love. But they are wrong. How can there be any rejoicing over people who are so mistaken about their spiritual condition?

          In reality all of us stray from our heavenly Father in some way and at some time. All of us need the Father’s loving forgiveness. With this short and simple parable, Jesus is telling us that God’s care, his love, and his forgiveness, are available to us always. Or as our wonderful Pope Francis never tires of telling us: God never gets tired of forgiving us. It is we who grow tired of asking for forgiveness.

THE MIRACLE OF FORGIVENESS

Homily for December 10^th, 2018: Luke 5:17-26.

          “Child, your sins are forgiven,” Jesus says to the paralyzed man in today’s gospel. Jesus is not saying that every illness is the result of sin. His words suggest, however, that Jesus saw in this particular man a spiritual burden that needed to be loosed before the man could be healed physically. 

          “We have never seen anything like this,” the onlookers exclaim in astonishment as they see the formerly paralyzed man pick up his mat and walk. For Luke, the gospel writer, the true miracle, however, is not the man’s physical cure, but the spiritual healing of forgiveness. 

          Perhaps you’re thinking: “What is so miraculous about forgiveness? Don’t we forgive others every day?” Thank God, we do. Between our forgiveness and God’s, however, there is this great difference. When we forgive, there is always a memory of

class=Section2>

the injury done, a “skeleton in the closet,” we call it. The wrong needs only to be repeated, or one like it, for the memory to be revived. God doesn’t have any closets. And even if he did, there wouldn’t be any skeletons there. God’s forgiveness is total. Jesus brings us this total forgiveness. In the sacrament of penance, Jesus uses his priests to bring us this gift.

          Some of the things we priests hear in confession help us to repent. Across the distance of almost sixty years I can still hear a child’s voice saying: “I stamp my foot at my mother and say No.” And I thought: that little one has greater sorrow for that small sin than I do for my sins, which are far worse. Telling you that is no violation of the seal of confession. I haven’t identified that child. I believe the Lord sent that little one into my confessional, to teach me a lesson. I’ve never forgotten it.

            “What will the priest think?” people sometimes ask. Let me tell you what one priest thought, a young man newly ordained and in his first parish assignment. In a letter to a friend, still in seminary, the new priest wrote: “I go into the confessional now, Jack; and I experience God in a completely new way.”