January 1, 2004

Numbers 6:22-27 + Galatians 4:4-7 + Luke 2: 16-21

It’s all about names today. The ancient writer from the Torah

in the last verse of today’s reading shows the importance of God’s name when with great eloquence bestows the blessing upon Israel. Having God’s name on them means that Israel receives God’s blessing.

Then again in the Letter to the Galatians, the whole idea of adoption implies the sharing of the parental name. By virtue of the Spirit’s indwelling in the believer’s heart, the Christian is marked by God’s name.

That name spoken now in the Gospel of Luke is the Good News. Just as the divine name was revealed to Moses, we have it revealed to us. Speaking that name, God’s face was uncovered, and the Lord entered a covenant with the people of Israel and gave them the law. With that name, and by its power, they were on their way to Canaan. with that name, they blessed themselves with its power.

The good name remains for us the gift by which God is lovingly identified to us and offers us salvation. In it we find peace. In it we are made children and heirs of God. It is God’s great and last word of salvation. At that circumcision, the covenant it symbolized was complete. What was begun with Abraham is finally consummated. Given the name “Jesus” which means, “God Saves” the abundance and fullness of God’s gracious love is declared by all who speak that name.

“Jesus” is the song of angels, the treasure of Mary, the wonder of shepherds. For us he is delight and joy. Our failures, our broken ornaments, the discarded wrappings of Christmas gifts matter not in the face of the divine presence. As I said last week to you all: God has broken the silence.

The final word has been spoken. He is our blessing and our redemption. We begin this new year of grace and faith by speaking that name in prayer, in thanksgiving, in praise, and in hope. We gather at this table for the first celebration in the fourth year of the third millennium. We treasure in our hearts

this great and gracious redemption we have, for God saves now, today and all through this new year and ever year for ever and ever, Amen.

December 28, 2003

Sirach 3:2-7,12-14 + Colossians 3:12-21 + Luke 2:41-52

This story, in spite of its emotional appeal is more about theology than emotions. In Luke’s Gospel, this is the first time Jesus speaks. What we hear today are his first words, and it is important when reading Luke to pay attention to where things happen. If he provides the detail of a location, it matters.

Luke is taking great care to shape the early identity of Jesus as a true Israelite, raised from birth in the cherished traditions of his people. He was formed in faith at home, at synagogue and in the temple. Nothing about the Gospel gives us reason to think he was ever a child prodigy of a messiah. What we see here is youthful stirrings of his awareness about a place in God’s plan; but it would be years before anything comes of it. During that time, we get from these verses a sense of how and where he grew into the man he became. It all happened in a home, in the relationship of a family, a family that kept alive and observed their religious traditions and it happened in synagogue, and at the temple.

The nesting ground for anyone who would seek their place in God’s plan is the same. The relationship that disposes Jesus for his relationship with God is the one he shares at home with Mary and Joseph in the context of their lived faith. It can hardly be any different for us. A people seeking their place in God’s plan will find it at home, in the synagogue and the temple.

The Home is where it begins – in a relationship of love, acceptance, forgiveness, service, and care. Then it is nurtured and formed by education, information, and opportunities for service. That’s what the synagogue was – the “School of the Covenant”. It was and still is the larger family that reinforces what happens at home and provides formation from the Word of God and the support of prayer.  Then, what is born in the home knows the formation and nurturing of education is celebrated in the “temple” of the Church where the community bears witness to that faith, rejoicing, giving thanks, and observing those cherished traditions that reinforce identity and root one in the plan of God.

There may be other ways to find the truth of one’s identity and grow into one’s place in God’s plan; but what Luke puts before us today speaks to parents and to children from the richness and the power of God’s Word. Luke begins his Gospel in the temple, and it ends there. It is a Gospel of Obedience, and the Jesus of his Gospel seeks God’s Will.  The first words of Jesus spoken in Luke’s Gospel are about seeking and doing the Will of God. Luke’s Christmas proposal to us is that learning to seek and do God’s will is a project of life that in Christian terms involves family, religious education, and the sacred liturgy.

When you stop to think about it, walking from Nazareth to Jerusalem was not very convenient. But then “convenience” is not what rules the lives of people who seek God and want to do God’s will. We are in the right place today. It is not only a matter of finding a home in the church, but also a matter of God’s Word finding a home in us. In as much as it does, we have then become chosen, beloved, and made holy by God; and all our works will be done in the name of Jesus as we give thanks to God through him.

We will gather again for Holy Day this week. It may not be convenient, these Holy Days rarely are; but it will be part of our identity, but the frequency of our assembly is how the Word of God takes root in our lives.

December 25, 2003

God has broken the silence that settled on the earth after the goodness of creation was spoiled by human pride and freedom was seized for self-service. A long night of darkness settled on creation with sin; but with the coming of Light from Light, True God from True God, that long night of sin is at an end.

“I am the Light of the World.” he says in the midst of darkness, and then at the third hour when darkness seemed to settle over everything smothering all hope, there was a loud cry, and the silence was broken. God had entered human history to face it fear and it pain. A gracious presence sets us free from the past of darkness, sin and silence. That past, for all of us, cannot be undone; but the meaning of the past can be defined by what we do in the present, and the way we choose to live the future. In some wonderful way, that is what we celebrate today: the past, the present, and the future.

Our telling of the Bethlehem story could easily become a way of just remembering the past – God’s past. Yet to do that is to step out of the story. The journey of Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem happened at a particular moment of time, Quirinius was governor of Syria. But this is not the only journey. We are going to Bethlehem, making a journey like them in faith, uncertain of the future, but confident from the past that the final word of this story will be one of light shining in darkness and life triumphant over death. But God too makes a journey to Bethlehem. From a history of darkness and silence, God comes to Bethlehem. From a history of infidelity, God comes into an uncertain future. Now silent no longer, using no prophets or angels to speak for Him, God speaks. Into the darkness comes the Light.

We are the ones, God seeks and we gather in this holy place, our Bethlehem, that we may see and hear God’s voice at long last. We are not here to be entertained by children or briefly moved by sentimental carols. We are here to celebrate the truth that our God is not hidden in heaven, that our God is not silent any longer, and that the darkness of this night in a terror ridden world will not last. God did not enter human history to bring us a set of guarantees about the future. God came to liberate us from a paralysis of the past but only if we have the confidence necessary to be liberated. God did not enter human history to solve our problems or cure our complaints, aches and pains. On the contrary, God entered human history to experience all of that with us and show us the way to rise. God did not come to make peace, but to show us how to achieve it by forgiveness if we have the confidence necessary to desire peace.

A spiral of violence marks our past. Suicide bombings, military assaults that destroy homes and families feed the flames of hatred the consumes another generation of terrorists. The story of Bethlehem points to another strategy of hope that does not rely on power or weapons, but upon the deepest instinct of the human heart.

It is a long way to Bethlehem, and it seems very dark. Instead of God’s voice, we hear bombs and the cries of the innocent. But the human heart when purged of anger and resentment knows the way. In Bethlehem it is a baby – vulnerable, simple, trusting. It is a baby that brings thoughts of peace, simple joy, and dreams of a future. What is born in Bethlehem is not only the divine into the human but also in Bethlehem is the human is born into the divine. In that birth comes our future filled with a gracious God who stirs anew the deepest longings and desires of the human heart

Our past does not bind us. We may give it new meaning by what we do in the present and what we choose to do in the future. The silence is broken. The dawn comes, and this night of sin in which we live is over. Our first glimpse of this God for whom we have waited, this God who has come for us is a baby. Now the past is no more. Now there is only the future and what we shall choose to do.

December 21, 2003

Micah 5:1-4 + Hebrews 10:5-10 + Luke 1:39-45

The old and the young together today in this wonderful Gospel story. We call it, “The Visitation.”If we stop short of reaching into all of its mystery, we would think it is about two cousins surprised by God, bound together by a wonder greater than family. The one with the leaping womb is filled with the restlessness of God. The one who makes the journey is filled with a God seeks the barren. Surprised by life, they embrace to lead us deeper into this wonder.

It is not about them: two women who visit. It is about God who visits His people. It is about a God who comes to embrace the barren, the old, the hopeless. It is about God who surprises those who have given up; God who laughs at nature and does what we cannot imagine; God who fulfills the desires of those who rise above fear and doubt to risk what he asks of us. The Gospel we proclaim today and again later this week is the Good News of a promise kept, desire fulfilled, hope rewarded by a visit and an embrace. God is with us. God has come to stay with us. God is the reason for our joy, our laughter, and our song.

December 14, 2003

Zephaniah 3:14-18 + Philippians 4:4-7 + Luke 3:10-18

He’s back, the one we heard of last week, the one who alerts us to the presence of God.The crowd, anxious to be ready, wanting to see God, waiting for God to act begins to wonder and ask:What should we do?”John was not simply shouting rebukes, and trying to reduce the crowd to a mob of fear. His message is one of social responsibility, and they heard it. He spoke to the people of his age and the inequities of his time. Acts of Justice are what he asks of the people who come for baptism. Repentance for the baptized means doing justice.Making the way for God to be among us is a matter of justice.

John speaks to people where they are. To tax collects he speaks of the justice they can do. To soldiers he speaks of the justice they can do. And there were certainly others from every station in life. What we probably see here in Luke’s Gospel is that soldiers and tax collectors had already found a place within the early Christian community. What John ultimately says to us is that we shall see the salvation of our God when people who have give………. Sophisticated as we have become, we recognize systemic causes to hunger and poverty and we know that a coat or meal once in awhile is inadequate.

Patterns of family violence and poor parenting repeat in new generations. We think we shall fix all this by ending welfare as a way of stopping dependency. And the result ends the opportunity of a single mom to pursue four-year education and develop the earning power that leads to independence. Cities tear down decaying housing projects without getting builders to invest in enough new subsidized housing units, leaving poor people without affordable apartments.

Justice does not come from politics or from law. It comes from the heart, and those whose hearts are prepared ask the question: “What shall we do?” In the meantime, John still speaks of Justice. He speaks to Walmart who hires and hides illegal aliens, demands that people clock out and keep working, provides no benefits by not allowing workers the hours to earn them. He speaks to Corporate executives who give themselves a bonus the day they lay off workers; to executives who raid pension plans to subsidize their ambitions, and keep some transactions off the company books. In the meantime, John still speaks of Justice. He speaks to people in power insisting that they not bully, make false accusations, intimidate others or use violence for any end.In doing so, he is speaking of domestic violence and abuse. He speaks of anger and hostility that springs out of stress and makes the innocent and vulnerable the target of anger.

This Third Sunday of Advent prompts us to wonder and ask: “What shall we do to see the salvation of our God?” The answer comes from the mouth of the prophet; the who knows, and points the way: GIVE. Not because it’s Christmas, but because it is “THE WAY.” Give because it is Just, because it is Right, and because it is our duty. The Justice John speaks of does not come from left-overs, spare change, nor from guilt; it comes from repentance and a change in life, a change in values, and a change in focus. It is rooted in a spirituality that is free of fear and anxiety, free of selfishness and guilt. It is a spirituality alive with love and gratitude,and it is the only possible way for us to be ready for the coming of our God.

December 8, 2003

Genesis 3:9-15,20 + Ephesians 1:3-6,11-12 + Luke 1:26-38

We are tempted to think sometimes that Mary’s call was so special that it has nothing to do with us,but to do that reduces her role to little more than a convenient body for the Incarnation. The consequences of pushing Mary into some semi-divine and barely human existence are disastrous for the Christian message. Her role goes far beyond her physical function for the birth of Christ. She is the one who teaches us by word and deed what we are created for. She is the one whose desire to do the will of God shows us the perfect life of a disciple. Luke gives her to us as the perfect disciple who says: “Let it be done according to your will.” John give her to us as a guide and a teacher who says at Cana: “Do whatever he tells you” When a woman ran up to Jesus and said to him: Blessed is the womb that bore you and the breasts that gave you food, Jesus said on the contrary, that those who do the will of God are the blessed. If the will of God is Peace, then are peacemakers. If the will of God is Justice then we will not rest until it is universal. If the will of God is forgiveness, then we will run to those we have offended to make amends and embrace those who have offended us without condition or delay.the will of God is a generous heart, we would be stewards of the gifts we have without limit or fear. If the will of God is that we be servants to one another, there would be no homelessness no hunger no loneliness.

Those who do the will of God then, are truly blessed. This feast and the woman who is its focus affirms the holiness of human life, its sanctity and its origins in the divine. This feast and the woman who is its focus confirms the divine plan and our participation in it.

This feast and the woman who is its focus reveals the human vocation in holiness. This feast and the woman we honor this day gives us reason to remember that we are here to do the Will of God; that we are holy and blameless in God’s sight, and that praise of God’s glory is our purpose and our vocation.

December 7, 2003 at St Mark Church in Norman, OK

Baruch 5: 1-9 + Philippians 1: 4-6, + Luke 3: 1-3

This week and next we shall hear of this one called: “The Baptist.” With great precision, Luke puts him into history – into time: Tiberius in his fifteenth year, Pilate is in Judea, Herod is in Galilee. It is Roman time. Annas and Caiaphas are High Priests.

It is also Jewish time. What Luke reveals is real. It happens in time. It is a matter of history. It is not a matter of the future. The spirit of anticipation in this season is not about what God is going to do. It has already happened. The spirit of anticipation in this season is about what we are going to do because of what has happened.

As we begin again in this season to tell the story of our God, and refresh our memories of that God’s presence and action in our lives, Luke suggests that this man John is a good model of faith. His life passes before us like a play in three acts.

In the first, he steps onto the stage of life from the desert where in trial and danger he has prepared himself and clarified is mission. He is strange and wild. He says the same thing over and over: “Prepare the way of the Lord……. Prepare the way of the Lord…..Prepare the way of the Lord.” And his image of this Lord is wilder than he is. It is an image of wrath and punishment. It is an image that probably reflects more of the expectations of the time and these people oppressed by the Romans than the truth. The fact that people seemed to rally around would suggest they liked the idea, the image of wrath. And as is often the case, it was probably the “wish” of the people –

that God would “give it to them” – those oppressors, those enemies. Of course, not to us – but to them……. they think. John keeps saying: Here he comes! Get ready. It’s going to be scary! And who comes? Jesus. It’s as though he suggests “Ivan the terrible” is coming, and a gentleman with a tennis racket walks on.Curtain. End of scene one.

John gets over his surprise and goes on with his business: Baptism. Folks are coming from everywhere to escape the coming wrath. Just in case it does happen. Out of the crowd steps Jesus. John says: “What are you doing here? You should baptize me.” Jesus says: “Let’s do it your way.” Curtain, end of scene two.

John is in prison wondering about what got him there and why. He knows he did everything he was supposed to do, and did it well. But this Jesus; he doesn’t seem to get it right, so, John sends his friends to clear up the matter. Jesus sends them back filled with sadness that he can’t be what John wants him to be, and sad that the ways of God seem strange to this man of God. True to his own vision, Jesus tells them to report what they have seen – touching deeply in their memories prophetic words and images they know very well about the blind, the deaf, and the poor.

And then he calls after them and adds: “Blessed is the man who is not scandalized by my behavior.” (Don’t lose faith and give up because I do not do it your way.)

In the final scene, Jesus turns to those around him revealing the depth of his own emotions and says: You think he’s not a prophet? I tell you, John is the greatest man who ever lived. And yet, the least member of my kingdom is greater.”

And the people turn to one another and almost think aloud: “It is a strange kingdom where the least member is greater than the greatest prophet who ever lived. It is a strange God who exalts the humble and serves the servant. It is almost enough to make one humble and make one a servant. The lights go down, and it’s the end of scene three.

The spirit of anticipation in this season is not about what God is going to do.

It has already happened. The spirit of anticipation in this season is about what we are going to do because of what has happened.

November 30, 2003

Jeremiah 33:14-16 + 1 Thessalonians 3:12-4:2 + Luke 21:25-28,34-36

Imagine, if you will, a mine cave in.In the total darkness, deep in the earth,a survivor quietly lies in the dampness. No food. No water. No company. He is the only survivor. For three days he waits in a small pocket of air in the darkness. At times he thinks he hears faint sounds that may mean rescue. But he is never sure. Above ground family members wait while rescue workers do their best afraid of what they may find. Hope drives them on. And then it happens: a beam of light shines through into the pocket of air; a voice speaks through a tiny opening. The workers find energy renewed. While lifeless bodies are later brought up to sorrow, all rejoice that one has been found alive.

This image is our story this season: a people in darkness who have seen a great light; a people waiting for the rescue that has come. We tell it as a reminder that no matter how threatening, how hopeless, or how dark the situation of our lives may become, now matter what caves in on us, or how we may feel alone, our rescue is near, and our hope is justified by a savior who is worthy of our trust.

Six centuries earlier Jeremiah planted the seed of that hope in hearts of a people he described as a remnant. We know what a remnant is:something left over, a scrap, a small piece often useless in itself and by itself. It serves as an apt image of what we really are and the wonder of God’s love and care for us. That “remnant” left after the destruction of Jerusalem was not much. With no power of their own, with everything in ruins, they were “nothing” to anyone —— except God. Yet the seeds of Hope planted by the prophet, bore fruit for those who waited in faith and they still bear fruit even today.

When we are nothing, reduced by sin or disaster, tasting the bitterness of our weakness, insignificance and powerlessness, we are still God’s own. God seems to prefer the remnants of this world, it’s scraps, and left overs, those who alone cannot amount to much. God seems to prefer seeking and searching for the lost and the last.

This is our hope today as we step into this season of Joy. We share the expectation of that miner knowing that help is always on the way and that it will come before it is too late. We shall be lifted up and lifted out, we shall see the light, and know the embrace of those who wait for us above.

God keeps the promise. Our rescue is at hand.

November 2, 2003

Daniel 12:1-3 + Romans 6:3-9 + John 6:37-40

If we observe All Souls Day and only remember those who have died, we accomplish only half of what this feast is about. Prayers that wrap the fond memories of our loved ones are part of this day’s tradition. These prayers are not so much an effort to “reduce a sentence” as they are the acknowledgement that these people we love are still alive with God. Their memory brings us closer to God. Solidarity and communion in the Spirit is all part of what we experience today.

Purification is not something left till judgment. It is an ongoing piece of a healthy spiritual life that reflects the desire for and the struggle for holiness and goodness. Purgatory is a lifestyle, not a holding pen. The second part of this day that takes us beyond our prayerful and grateful memories of lives that have gone before us concerns purification: not the purification of others, but the purification of our own lives.

The story of Moses taking off his shoes because the place was holy

carries the image beautifully in a way we can understand.  People who live by the spirit, deeply rooted in faith, live repentance humbly and consistently aware of their unworthiness. Our struggle with sin,

our efforts at conversion, our prayers for forgiveness, are all part of the purification of the human spirit longing to be present to the divine Spirit. This day is also about that purification.

We are here thinking of death in the midst of life, As believers, we  re here thinking of life in the midst of death. The sober, but not frightening, reminder this feast provides can wisely lead us further into holiness and grace; bring us a great measure of peace, and bring about forgiveness, given and received. The list of names in this book, and the names we shall speak in this Mass grows longer every year until it shall include our own.

A culture that prizes youth or youthfulness above all things is a culture in denial about death, and this feast does not permit the denial. Today we can put aside our pretense and renew our efforts to prepare and purify our lives to be worthy of the promise made to us. Today we can also renew our ties with those who have gone before us to God. We pray for them – not because they cannot – but because we want to pray with them. We may ask for their forgiveness for all of things we did not do when we might have; and in such prayer, we can realize our union with them in God,in Christ, and in the Spirit.

Then, fresh from this experience, we might better approach each coming day as an opportunity to express our love, to set aside anger in order to be reconciled, and let others know how much they mean to us. Each day can be a chance to visit and care for one another and learn patience. This is Purification: the work of repentance and conversion. These and so many other words and works will help us to be less encumbered by regret when next we celebrate this feast together.

October 26, 2003

Jeremiah 31:7-9 + Hebrews 5: 1-6 + Mark 10:46-52

It is Jericho; the last stop on the way to Jerusalem. The journey to Jerusalem started with the cure of blindness at Bethsaida. In the meantime, Jesus has spoken clearly of what is to come. Three times he has referred to what is to happen in Jerusalem. Each time, the disciples, thinking it’s a all about them, miss the point. All they can imagine, all they can think about is: “What’s in it for me.” But now, the end is near. Jerusalem is just up and around the last hill.

And there he sits with his cloak spread out.It is more than a cloak. It is his visible means of support.Like those who beg today, he has spread his cloak on the groundand those who would not look the other way when they passed drop their coins in the cloak. When his day is finished, he folds it up to collect what he has received. His name is Bartimaeus. It means “Son of the unclean.”

This is hardly a simple story of miraculous healing. The story of Bartimaeus is an example of the way faith works. He sits at the side of the road with is cloak. His beggar’s faith leads him to Jesus. No one takes him there. He stands in stark contrast to those who are already with Jesus on the road but fail to see his real mission. They could not see that his mission was one of love and compassion for all. They want to be selective about who gets to Jesus because they think it’s all about them. They try to keep Bartimaeus away.

The sense of urgency in Mark’s Gospel, the frantic movement here and there, the rushing of the crowds and the pace of Jesus moving toward Jerusalem suddenly stops, and all eyes are on the two of them: the Son of David, and the Son of the Unclean.  In a gesture that says more by action than by word, the Son of the Unclean rises up and comes to Jesus. He throws aside his cloak, his means of support and probably his only possession. What a contrast between this man and the rich young man who passed by Jesus earlier on this journey unable to sell what he had.

With cloak gone and all it symbolized in terms of security and support, blind Bartimaeus doesn’t seem so blind at all. He can see where to put his trust. He can see who can answer his needs and will not fail him. He can see what the other cannot. Unlike the blind man cured at the beginning of this section, Bartimaeus does not “go home” after his cure. He follows Jesus on the “Way.”

The “Son of the Unclean” becomes a “Son a David.” The barriers that would have kept him begging have fallen. Those who would have had him be quiet, begin to speak of Courage. The journey on to Jerusalem picks up the pace again, with one who knows that discipleship is found in living out the fate of the Master.

The challenge to follow Jesus is put before us this autumn weekend

because we still cling to our cloaks. Yet we are more like Bartimaeus than James and John of last week. We know where this is going to end, and we have heard often enough that the mission of Jesus is one of love and compassion for all. The timid and the cautious will let Jesus pass by. Those coming to faith, even blind faith, will cry out: “Have mercy.” The Gospel gives us hope and speaks the best words we might ever hear. “Take Courage. He is calling you.”