The Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

11 February 2018 At Saint Peter and Saint William Churches in Naples, FL

Leviticus 13:1-2, 44-46 + Psalm 32 + First Corinthians 10:31-11, 1 + Mark 1, 40-45

We are all lepers. This story, as they always are, is about us. With no name, Mark casts this story with the focus on the leper, not the disciples or the crowd. We don’t know where this happened or when. This nameless man is anyone who needs what Jesus came to offer. The Jesus Mark puts before us is not just a man who has pity or feels sorry for someone sick. The word Mark chooses is powerful. It is compassionate. It’s as though he is saying that Jesus is moved to tears by the condition of this man. He responded man from the very depths of his being.

Jesus does the unthinkable. He touches that man. The fear of that impurity does not stop him. It happens again and again in the Gospel. Jesus touches those who seem beyond hope. It is almost as though Jesus wishes to trade places with this man, and in some ways, he does. In the end, Jesus, is the one who ends up alone, cast out, with a body broken, bruised, and bloody while that man goes free.

We are all lepers. We are all living like outcasts hiding from one another the truth of our lives. We even hide that truth from ourselves. The social consequences of sin are the last thing we want think about. In fact, we deny it by looking at sin as something private or personal. The evidence of that is the decline in our use of the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Why admit to someone else that we have sinned? After all, it’s just between me and God. No, it isn’t. We do not really admit our sinfulness, and we avoid the truth that sinful attitudes, like prejudice, racism, or sexism continue to isolate us from one another, avoiding those who are not like us, whose skin is different.

We are all lepers. The response of Jesus Christ is deeply emotional and compassionate. So much so, that he takes on the consequences of our sin in one last act of love. He accepted us and our sinfulness, and that acceptance is the answer to rejection and denial. In accepting ourselves as we truly are, we find the key to accepting others. The Jesus of this story is man of kindness, not a man of judgement. This is a man who reveals the mercy, the kindness, and the compassion of God to those willing to ask for what they need. It isn’t healing from a disease that we really need. It is acceptance, compassion, and reconciliation that we need, not just with God, but with each other. That’s why the man is sent to the priests, to complete his total healing and reconciliation with those who have looked upon him with judgement and cast him aside. That man become perhaps, the first apostle. He tells everyone what the Lord has done for him. It wasn’t just the healing, as I said, but the astonishing kindness and respect with which he had been treated.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if people began to run around and talk openly about how they had been treated by us Catholics: about the kindness, the compassion, and the respect with which we met them day after day? Jesus reached out a loving and healing hand towards a pariah. He challenges us his followers to reach out to those society rejects today: prisoners, addicts, refugees, migrants, or those sick with AIDS. It’s amazing what people can do for others. People can rekindle hope, bring back a joy for living, inspire plans for the future, restore self-respect and pride. They can mirror the infinite charity of God. Isn’t that what we want to do and who we want to be?

The Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

4 February 2018 At Saint Peter and Saint William Churches in Naples, FL

Job 7, 1-4, 6-7 + Psalm 147 + 1 Corinthians 9, 16-19, 22-23 + Mark 1, 29-39

First there was last week an exorcism in the synagogue, now there is a healing in a home. Perhaps the places are significant for Mark, but you can think about that later. This is still the first chapter of Mark’s Gospel. Like most literature, characters and themes are introduced at the very beginning, so what we get here is a movement from synagogue to home and from home to a deserted place. Much of this gospel is going to move around in these locations. The paring of exorcism and healing is a preview of things to come, as well as the behavior of the disciples, and the pressing crowds. The disciples want to control Jesus. They see their role as his “manager”. It will take time to move them out of that role. The crowds see him as a wonder worker, and they will run all over the place to see what he does, what he can do for them. There is not a lot of interest in what he has to say which leads him to insist that he has come to proclaim the good news.

Little has changed since that day in Peter’s home making this Gospel just as relevant today as it was then. To put it simply, Mark is saying that we cannot let our relationship with Jesus be based upon what he can do for us or what we can get out of him. Those crowds would not look beyond the material signs. So, Jesus insists to the disciples that he came to proclaim the good news. The signs and wonders he performed were done to draw people to the Kingdom, to awaken them to the reality and presence of that Kingdom, and lead to repentance and conversion of life that is required for life in the Kingdom. There is something deeper and more important than these signs and wonders. These healings and casting out of demons are like visual aids making the Kingdom real and perceptible.

The driving out of demons is releasing people from the kingdom of darkness. The preaching comes first, and as the truth of the gospel begins to enlighten people’s minds, the demons can no longer maintain their hold. When Jesus enters the home of Peter, there is something very significant, but if we do not wonder or ask, “What does this mean”, we cannot grasp what Jesus is really saying and doing there. Mark uses a word that provides a clue. The Greek word represented by “helped her up” is the same word used by Saint James in speaking of the sacrament of the sick when our ritual quotes James and says: “the prayer of faith will save the sick person, and the Lord will raise them up.” The word has a number of meanings: wake, rouse, raise, help to rise, relieve, restore to life. We should not try to limit the word to a single meaning but should use all the meanings. The mother-in-law gets up and begins to serve the guests. The presence of Jesus restores this woman to her life of service. The Greek word used by Mark to describe “waiting on them” is diaconia. Mark is not just talking about household tasks here, he is referring to service in the sense of “ministry.”

As we continue to explore Mark’s Gospel from now until Lent, we would do well to keep asking “what does this mean?” Even more so, we might take a serious look at how we relate to and what we expect of Jesus Christ. Getting all pious and prayerful when we want something without listening and responding to what he says to us puts us in the category of those crowds who never looked beyond the signs to being the repentance and conversion that is required for the Kingdom of God. Finally, in the last verse today, there is an invitation, “Let us move on to the neighboring villages.” The “us” here is not Jesus speaking of himself. It describes the role of his disciples. Spoken here today, this Gospel calls us into a more intentional discipleship and a share in the very word of Jesus Christ, a work of healing, restoring, liberating, and lifting up.

The Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

28 January 2018 At Saint Francis of Assisi in Castle Rock, Colorado

Deuteronomy 18, 15-20 + Psalm 95 + 1 Corinthians 7, 32-35 + Mark 1, 21-28

It is easy to become distracted by the sensational in these verses. Shouting demons and man in convulsions in the middle of the synagogue is all it takes for us to get off track with what is going on here. If that happened in here today, I can guarantee you that this homily would be the last thing you remembered about Mass today! The whole contest between Jesus and evil spirits is just a preview of a theme that will continue throughout Mark’s Gospel. What really matters is what is happening between Jesus and the others who are present. Notice carefully that Mark tells us that the people were spellbound by the authority of Jesus before the conflict with the unclean spirit. That exorcism is not what amazed them. What did amaze them was “a completely new teaching in a spirit of authority.”

We do not have much of that these days. We have a lot of words from public figures, but there is a depressing predictability about what they are going to say. There is not a lot of authority, and the consequence is a lot of skepticism. Many of those doing the talking lack credibility for several reasons: they don’t even believe what they themselves are saying. I always suspect that when someone keeps repeating what they say they are trying to convince themselves that it is the truth. Then the character of the speaker matter. A flawed character does not start out with much credibility. There is an old saying: “How do you know when an addict is lying? Their lips are moving.” Finally, when a speaker does not live according to their own words, there is no chance anyone will believe what they say.

What we hear in today’s Gospel is that the teaching of Jesus was refreshingly different from the official teachers of the day. No Scribe ever expressed an opinion of his own. The Scribes always began by quoting some authority other than themselves. Jesus spoke with his own voice needing no other. His authority came from the fact that he spoke the truth. Some teachers just provide facts. Others provide vision, inspiration, and meaning, and that is the difference that Jesus provides, vision, inspiration, and meaning.

His authority came from his character because he back up his words with his deeds. Mark never says it this way, but his presentation of Jesus suggests that Jesus himself was the sermon. We really don’t need the words. Just watch what he does.

Even though Mark puts the question in the mouth of one possessed, we might consider asking that question ourselves. “What do you want of us, Jesus of Nazareth?” Last week the Scriptures reminded us that we have been called by Jesus to come and see. He didn’t say, “Come and listen.” Now it seems we ought to ask why – what does Jesus of Nazareth want of us? Simply being amazed cannot possibly be what he asks. There is more expected of a people chosen by God. Our witness to what we have seen and to what we believe must have credibility that comes from really believing, that comes from an upright character, and that comes from speaking the truth. When we cultivate this kind of credibility, our lives will provide for others a vision of the Kingdom of God, inspiration to make it real, and give our lives and our church some real concrete meaning revealed through our deeds of service and love.

The Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

21 January 2018 At St. Peter and St. William Churches in Naples, FL

Jonah 3, 1-5, 10 + Psalm 25 + 1 Corinthians 7, 29-31 + Mark 1, 14-20

At the time of Jesus, it was customary for most people to choose a rabbi and become a disciple in order to learn the law. The disciples did the choosing. With these Gospel verses, there is something happening that is out of the ordinary. Instead of these men choosing Jesus as their rabbi and becoming one of his disciples, Jesus does the choosing. He chose them. They do not choose him. There is something unique going on here, and we might pay attention to it.

Before retiring, when I helped with the formation of couples in preparation for marriage, I would often remind them that even though they thought they had chosen each other for marriage, it was not so. God did the choosing. God put them together, and if it was not the will of God, it wasn’t going to last. In my own seminary formation, we were constantly urged to discern God’s call asking whether or not service to the church was really what God wanted of us.  When I was the director of seminarians for my diocese and someone came in telling me they were going to be a priest, I knew we had a long way to go before that was going to happen. In this age of choice, when everyone seems to think it is their right to choose everything from the color of a car to whether or not another human being lives the action of this Gospel and part of its message seems like a new idea, but it isn’t. God has been making choices for a long time, longer than we can even imagine. The scriptures are full of the stories of God making choices, of who would be a prophet, who would be God’s people, where they would live, who would be king, who would give flesh to his son, and who would be his disciples.

Each of us might ask ourselves now and then, what we’re doing here, how we got here, and most of all why God chose us and not someone else. There are, you know, more people not here today than there will ever be in this church. Perhaps the Gospel we proclaim this Sunday is not about Peter, Andrew, James, and John. It seems to reveal something to us about how God works and about how people who experience Jesus Christ respond. God finds us doing what we do every day from mending nets to folding laundry, from driving to work to playing golf. He might find us here, but more likely we’re here because he found us somewhere else.

The message spoken by Jesus and his invitation to the Kingdom of God is spoken in this place today because, when we come face to face with this Gospel we are face to face with Jesus himself. My friends, we must stop thinking that the Kingdom of God is some place or some time period yet to come. The Kingdom of God is a new state of mind that brings about a new way of living. It grows through a web of relationship’s in which people experience loving union with God and one another. Jesus showed us what it looked like by his relationships with others, and he taught us to pray for it as we shall soon do. In that prayer, we find the best and most concise interpretation of the meaning: “Kingdom of God”: Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as in heaven. The Kingdom is where ever and whenever God’s will is done.  What this Gospel reveals is that God is calling every one of us, and our first response to that call is to do the will of God right now without delay, and with every decision of our lives consider carefully what God’s will might be.

The Second Sunday in Ordinary Time – 14 January 2018

1 Samuel 3, 3-10, 19 + Psalm 40 + 1 Corinthians 6, 13-15 + John 1, 35-42

Even though we are now beginning the year of Mark, the Gospel today comes from John respecting an old liturgical theme of celebrating different manifestations of Jesus. John’s whole Gospel is a gradual manifestation of who Jesus is from this announcement of John the Baptist to Martha’s announcement at the raising of her brother, Lazarus.  So, only 35 verses into the Gospel two people reveal who Jesus is: John the Baptist and that first-called apostle, Andrew who says: “We have found the Messiah.” Late this coming summer, we will return to John’s Gospel and spend several weeks reflecting upon how Jesus is manifested in the Bread of Life.

For now, it is important to realize where Jesus goes looking for disciples, and who it is he calls. It is not to the high and mighty that he goes. It is not to the Temple High Priests or to powerful Princes and Kings. It is to working people who are at work. People who are called to follow Jesus are simply ordinary people doing what they do every day. These two disciples of John the Baptist have already been caught up in the anticipation, the desire, and the hope his preaching has stirred up. Suddenly their Rabbi, John the Baptist, points to Jesus walking by. Already attentive to John’s teaching, they follow his advice without a question and turn their attention to this one who passes by.

The writer of this Gospel is very careful and very precise about words. For instance: the question, “What are you looking for” is asked two more times in this Gospel, when soldiers come at night into the Garden of Olives and when Mary stands at an empty tomb. Today it is asked again, asked of us, by the Word of God in this assembly. When the question, “Where do you stay?” is asked, they want to know more than his street address. In John’s Gospel, the words: stay, dwell, abide, and remain all have a profound meaning, and they come up again and again throughout John’s Gospel. All of this should excite our imagination and take us beyond the simple superficial meaning of the words into the real themes at work. When Jesus says, “Come and see” we should remember that “seeing” for Saint John is the starting point of faith. Over and over again John has people “see and believe” from the signs Jesus worked.

Like those two first apostles, we are a people who have found the Messiah. We know that what we are looking for is not really here on this earth. I suppose that is why so many of us are so restless deep down in our hearts. We have to understand through the Gospel accounts where he stays, where he dwells, and where he abides. The story we have just told about a homeless couple in Bethlehem tells us quite clearly that he is to be found where we might least expect. Incidents in all four Gospels make clear beyond a doubt that he stays with, abides with, and dwells with tax collectors, sinners, the blind, the sick, the unclean, and the poor.

There is a progression here that can measure the depth of our spiritual lives. It begins with wonder and a question about what we are looking for. It moves deeper with a desire to follow the Christ and see where he stays. Then, coming to see, or perceive, and understand all of this is the beginning of faith. When we see and believe, we will truly be apostles whose first instinct and desire will be to bring another to Jesus. The question we are left with then after reflecting upon this Gospel is whether or not we have really seen and believed. Because, if we have, we would still be bringing people to Jesus.

7 January 2018 at Saint Peter and Saint William Churches in Naples. FL

Isaiah 60, 1-6 + Psalm 72 + Ephesians 3, 2-3, 5-6 + Matthew 2, 1-12

Some careless misreading of this Gospel has led to a rather unfortunate idea about what was going on here. While that carelessness has provided us with another nice romantic story to tell in the Christmas season, it does not touch the reality that has a lot more to say to us than what we are given. Matthew never says that these wise men, astrologers, or kings whatever another translator will choose to call them followed a star. It says that they observed a star “as it rose”.  It says nothing about the star guiding them. The next time the star is mentioned is near the end of their journey near Bethlehem. A rising star is an ancient metaphor for the birth of someone special. When you set aside a suggestion that has no biblical roots that some star was like a GPS system, you can begin to grasp what this is all about.

They made their journey in darkness. They had no idea where they were going, and so, they had to stop and ask directions, seek and inquire. Now I know that many women will find this surprising, that a man might actually stop, inquire, and ask directions, but these travelers did. Instead of imagining some magic star that is not found in the bible, why not imagine a real journey with doubts and dangers, wrong turns, and sometimes, maybe bad advice.

This journey Matthew describes is as much a gift to us as the gifts he describes were a gift to the child Jesus. Their journey is ours, and the story is told not to excite our imagination about fine robes and camels, but to encourage us persevere in our search for the King. Many of us set out on the journey of life with a great dream and bright future only to have it all disappear or collapse in a tragedy. Things and unexpected events get in the way like clouds hide the sun. Some of us lose our self-confidence or doubts arise and we think we are losing our faith. When that happens, the truly wise seek the guidance of others. They ask for directions.

What we really share when we tell this Gospel story is a message of hope that darkness will pass, and that by having the humility to ask and seek direction, with an unwavering commitment to life’s journey toward Christ, we shall come into his presence. What we also hear in this story is that when we do find the Christ the gifts with which we are born can be offered to our brothers and sisters, especially those who are poor as the Christ was.

Once they have found the Christ, Matthew tells us that they went back by a different way. This detail is not about taking a different route, it is about the change that came over their lives. Having met Christ and heard his Gospel, we too take a different route with our lives with different attitudes, goals, and values. It is impossible to encounter Christ Jesus without it change the path of our lives. What matters for many yet is that they keep going and never hesitate to look into the scriptures and seek the wisdom of those who know. That is the only way to find the real King.

December 31, 2017 at Saint Peter and Saint William Churches in Naples. FL

Sirach 3,2 & 12-14 + Psalm 128 + Colossians 3. 12=21 + Luke 2, 22, 39-40

The commercial tendency to sentimentalize the Birth of Christ with all kinds of romantic images and dramatizations of the nativity with children’s pageants full of wooly lambs, regal visitors, and the perfectly lovely couple with a sweet little baby gets a correction with this feast today. Do not be misled by the words: “Holy Family”. This is not to suggest that somehow this little couple from Nazareth who found their way to Bethlehem were special and given a pass from the realities and hardships of family life. That family was real. Those two parents stumbled around and made mistakes just like everyone of you did with your first child. They did not have Doctor Spock, Dr. Seuss Books, Pampers, Formulas, or any of the other conveniences many enjoy today. Both parents worked. Their child was a real human child with bumps, scrapes, fevers, sore throats, ear infections, and everything else. He played in the streets, probably kept company his parents did not always approve of, and there is no reason to believe that he liked broccoli! On top of that, get over any idea that Mary and Joseph agreed on everything and never had an argument. They did not enjoy a sheltered and trouble-free life. That kind of thinking takes away from this feast the whole wonder of holiness in the midst of humanness. What we celebrate today is how the holy is found in a real family. It is about how God can and has chosen to be revealed and found in the very ordinary ups and downs, of a home.

This feast does not leave out those whose experience of family is somehow unique or different from what some would insist is the perfect and only way to be family. Family, in the end, is about relationships, not about roles of parenting, providing, or home making. Not all of us live in nuclear families. Some of us live alone. Some of us come from broken families, or we belong to some wider groups linked by blood or by other ties like religious communities. Monasteries and convents for example, are really families with brothers and sisters who love and care for one another. What all of us have in common, I hope, is a home, and that is where the feast leads us. It leaves us to look at and reflect upon our homes as places where we find God and are sanctified by what happens there.

Today’s feast proposes that somehow, we have to make certain that our homes are open toward heaven not only by the way we live and treat one another in those homes, but also by the prayers that are offered there, the sacrifices made in love, and the loving service that is given. The forgiveness that is shared in a home makes it a temple where God’s forgiveness is found.

Our Catholic Church has always believed that the home is the first and fundamental church, the first community of love. The bigger church is never stronger or more enduring than the family homes that make up a parish.

There is a big difference between a house and home. A house is place full of furniture and stuff. A home is the place to which we can always return and be sure of a welcome. It is the place where we taste on earth the joy and peace of the place God has for us in heaven. Remember that as you go home today, and make it so for you carry within you the Body and Blood of Christ who lives in your home.

Christmas Day December 25, 2017 at Saint William Churche in Naples. FL

Isaiah 9, 1-6 + Psalm 96 + Titus 2, 11-14 + Luke 2, 1-14

In an age when facts are dismissed as “fake news”, and history itself is ignored or rewritten by political regimes and ideologues to justify their ideas, we are left wonder what to make of this Gospel as we acknowledge a growing phenomenon of our age: skepticism. So, we look at this Gospel and wonder: Is this fact or fake news? Is this real history or just a romantic old story we tell every December in order to feel connected to something we can’t quite name?

For the first time in history the sum of human knowledge is literally in the palm of our hands. Yet we seem painfully out of touch or ignorant of our own history. Like trees without deep roots, we are easily blown down by the slightest gale, disappointment, or challenge. Dementia is often considered one of the greatest tragedies when a person loses their memory. Yet we are at risk of losing our collective memory which is far more dangerous, because without it we are doomed to repeat over and over again the same tragic and violent mistakes.

“Fake News” comes in an age of the skeptic for those who only believe what they want to see and deny what they cannot understand. Yet the most real things in this world are those no one can see. We can’t see air, but it’s there. You can’t see snow on a Colorado mountain right now, but it’s there. You can’t see beauty, but you can see something that is beautiful. You can’t see Joy, but you can see joyful people. You can’t see love; but you can see a lover or someone who loves you.

A skeptical and dangerous world watches Christian people gather everywhere in the world today. They are watching us remember and share news that no one dare call “fake” when it is lived day after day. There can be nothing fake about our faith any more than there is something fake about God’s love for us. There is nothing fake about us being led to see beauty in a baby and have our hopes for peace stirred by a birth no matter where it happens or when.

This is our day to remember that God is not off somewhere in distant heavens; but has and is acting in human history living, breathing, suffering, dying and rising with us and within us. This is our day to remember that the Birth of Christ is not confined to a date in December, but is celebrated on the date of every Baptism and every Birth into Everlasting life. We believe this to be true not because someone told us so or because we read it in this book, but because we are here today, and because nothing has nor will ever put us down for long.

A study reported in the Naples Daily News last week reveals something we all hope to be true. People who live the longest and fullest lives are people who make friends and keep them. Lives that are rich, full, and long all have one thing in common: friendship. Sceptics should beware. At the heart of our celebration today is the fact that our God has revealed a desire to be a friend to us. His only Son expressed that desire, and was born to restore that friendship as it was in the beginning. There is nothing fake about that news, and our history, when remembered, shows that peace, joy, love never lived are never real. Yet today we proclaim in this place by our presence that Divine peace, Godly love, and human Joy have come to life.

4 Advent December 24, 2017 at Saint Peter and Saint William Churches in Naples, FL

Samuel 7, 1-5, 8-12, 14-16 + Psalm 89 + Romans 16, 25-27 + Luke 1, 26-38

David wants to build a Temple, a dwelling place for God; and God says, “No, you don’t build a place for me.” David lives in a fine palace, and he wants to put God in a fine Temple. God isn’t interested, and through the prophet proceeds to tell David all the things God has done just in case David thinks he did those things. Then suddenly the same God who said, “no” to David is ready for a dwelling place, but it is not a finely decorated, richly appointed Temple in the glorious and powerful city of Jerusalem. It is in a dusty little place off the beaten path that God asks for a home. God’s choice for a home is not Powerful, Handsome, Successful King David who is lounging around in his glory. God’s choice for a home is, as we hear tomorrow, a stable. He came, not through a King or a Priest or a Prophet, but from someone who is barely more than a child. She is nobody’s wife and nobody’s mother, an absolute nobody in society. Right there an angel asks her to agree to God’s plan to change everything. This is the mystery we are invited to contemplate today on the Eve of Christmas.

What made it all possible was the fact that Mary listened. Listening is getting to be a rare experience these days. Most people would rather talk, make announcements, or shout. Getting people to listen is ultimately the only way to bring about change, but getting anyone to listen, especially someone who has made up their mind about something is a real challenge to patience and courage. It is no wonder than so little ever changes. Another word for Listening is Obedience. It implies listening so carefully, so attentively, so openly, that the listener is prepared to be changed by what they hear. A law may be imposed on people, but if they do not internalize that law, if they do not choose it as a good way to act, it is only as effective as the painful punishment for infractions.

Now, Mary listened to the angel, and the listening allowed her heart to be vulnerable to God’s grace which is another way of saying that she was obedient. She was not passive about it all and carefully explained why God’s plan seemed impossible to her. She was not even married, not even a real wife! But, she was open enough to listen to a plan that was different from the plan she had for her life and bigger than her expectations or imagination. Some of you may remember what I said last week about how important imagination is for a disciple of Jesus Christ. In the end, what she heard as she listened was that nothing is impossible with God.

The whole long story of God’s relationship with Israel is a story of how the impossible becomes possible with God; of how Abraham’s old wife could bear a son, of how a little boy could put down a giant, of how a handful of Israelites could take over well-fortified and brave Canaan. Over and over again there is a constant reminder and evidence that when people listen, things can happen that were never imagined and seemed impossible.

We are not telling this story to sit back and admire the Blessed Virgin and be impressed by her humble obedience. We are telling this story and proclaiming this Gospel because God is still challenging our fears and asking us to listen. God is still choosing people like us who do not live in palaces and who have not accomplished anything really remarkable that might go down in history. God still asks us to not be afraid, to listen, and by our listening, our courage, and our faith to very possibly change the whole world. Thinking that this is impossible contradicts the Gospel and refuses the power of the Holy Spirit. It’s time to listen suggests Advent’s fourth Sunday, and when we do there will really be peace on earth and good will for all.

3 Advent December 17, 2017 at Saint Peter and Saint William Churches in Naples, FL

Isaiah 61, 1-2, 10-11 + Psalm (Luke 1, 46-54) + 1 Thessalonians 5, 16-24 + John 1, 6-8, 19-28

From the first chapter till the last, the question: “Who are you?” is raised again and again in John’s Gospel. It starts with John the Baptist as we heard today. It is very dramatically asked again of Jesus by Pilate, and finally in the last chapter John tells us that none of the disciples “dared to ask that question” about a man on the shore who told them where to fish and bring in a great catch. In that 21^st and last Chapter it simply says: “Now none of the disciples dared to ask him, “Who are you?” because they knew it was the Lord.

While John’s Gospel is focused on the identity of Jesus as the Word Made Flesh, it also initiates a quest for the identity of his disciples. “Who are you?” is a question this living Word addresses to each of us in this assembly. The disciples came to know the Lord by spending time with him, by listening to his words, by watching what he did, and finally in that 21^st chapter, by doing what he asked. This is the formula unfolded for us in John’s Gospel, and following that formula will eventually reveal who we are.

I find it interesting to notice that when introducing one’s self to a stranger in a crowd of people, just after asking one’s name, the next question is almost always, “What do you do?” It’s as though our name is not enough to establish our identity, and of course, it isn’t enough. So, we ask more because what someone does (their behavior) usually tells us more about them than what they are called. If I were to ask you to name the Apostles, most of you would stumble through eight or fifteen names which is not very important since the Gospels themselves do not agree on all the names. But, if I asked you what an Apostles does, we could get somewhere.

As we move through the last half of Advent, the church suggests that it is time to raise the question: “Who are you?” More than that however, it might well be time for us to provide an answer. John did so by calling attention to what he did not for the sake of any praise or admiration; but for the sake of expressing his relationship to Christ. The challenge then for us in answering that question is to determine whether or not what we do expresses in any way our relationship to Christ Jesus. What we do says just about everything about who we are, and it reveals who we serve and what really matters to us.

In place of a Psalm text today, familiar verses of Luke’s Gospel were sung. They are the words that Luke places on the lips of a young maiden in Nazareth who has just discovered who she is, a favored one for whom the Almighty has done great things. The consequences of acknowledging and recognizing who she is results in great joy, a joy that is almost contagious for those who read and pray those words. In the world of our times, joy easily slips away replaced by sadness and fear. So many innocent people suffer so greatly at the hands of others. Neglect, denial, racism, break apart the family that has been taught to call God, “Father”. At the root of it all is the fact that we have failed to ask the question: “Who are you?” We fail to acknowledge that every one of us is a child of God and a member of our one family as brother and sister. I always imagine that our human experience of Joy is really a reflection of Divine Joy, or Divine Delight. If there is too little Joy these days, it may well mean that God’s joy is less because of what we do and what we fail to do.

As the Church calls us to Joy this day, it is not a call to act or to be happy. It is a call to examine carefully how we live together and what we do shaping who we are. In the end, we are God’s children and therefore one with each other. When one of us is hurting, we all hurt, and so does God. When one of us is a victim of violence or injustice, we are all victims as well just as Jesus Christ was a victim of violence. When one of us becomes aware of the fact that we are chosen, beloved, and gifted by God to give flesh to God’s only Son, we can all rejoice again living with hope and with confidence that God has come to the help of his servant and remembered his promise of mercy.