Good Shepherd, Marietta, OK and Holy Cross, Madill, OK

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

There is an important change of location in this first Chapter of Mark’s Gospel. The first miracle that Jesus performs takes place in the Synagogue. The second miracle takes place in the home of Peter. Our Gospel today begins with words that draw our attention to this shift: “Upon leaving the synagogue…..” Details like this are always significant, and in themselves, there is a message. Four words that point to something new.

For the Jewish people the Synagogue was the center of life and faith. It was there that they prayed, studied, and heard God’s Word. Now suddenly there is a change, something completely new. While Jesus began his ministry in the synagogue, he moves on and he moves out. Mark takes us to Peter’s home. The second miracle in the ministry of Jesus is then outside the synagogue in a home. While the ministry of Jesus begins in a place of prayer and worship, it continues and is completed outside in the world, in the home of Peter. This is important for us to see and understand.

Jesus goes out to meet the lepers, the possessed, the sick, the blind and the lame. He does not wait nor expect them to come to him in the synagogue. The work he came to accomplish is done outside in the world, on the roads, in homes, in market places, in offices, and in classrooms. Mark has no intention of suggesting that what we do here in this church is not part of the work nor important for the work. It is here that we are formed, taught, fed, encouraged, and sent. Here in the Eucharist we become the community in which Christ is found; and filled with the Holy Spirit we are sent out to do the work of Christ, a work of healing and forgiving, feeding and calling the lost to find their way.

This is the beginning in here. Out there is the mission where the reign of God grows. The Gospel does no good if it is read like a story book, carried around in churches, and studied like a text book. The Gospel is power and mission, vision, and the reason for our very lives. There are still sick and lonely people, lame, blind, deaf and broken who wait out there for us to come and treat them with respect, listen to their pain, and show them the face of Christ. There are people possessed by loneliness and fear. There are still people treated like lepers who are ignored and shut out of life and happiness because of the way they look, where they live, or where they work. Their only hope is you and me.

This Gospel begins in a synagogue and notice that it ends in a synagogue because a life of prayer and worship with others gives direction and purpose to what we do during the week. This is the beginning and the end. What we do in the middle in between is what gives purpose and witness to the faith we celebrate here and live out there. In just a few minutes, you will hear familiar words: “Go and Glorify God with your lives, the Mass is ended.” Think of that today and every day you come to this holy place, and what you do until you come back will take on new meaning, bring the Gospel to life, and fulfill our calling as a Holy People and Disciples of Jesus Christ.

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

Last week we heard the first spoken words of Jesus in Mark’s Gospel. This week we hear of the first miracle, and with it Mark introduces the primary issues that will spark conflicts between Jesus and the “authorities.” They are issues that are far from settled. They still cause conflict and challenge today.

The “authorities”, scribes and Pharisees, are upset because the sacredness of the Sabbath has been compromised. Even more so they are upset because their authority has been questioned by a new authority. The Scribes thought and taught that the most important thing in life was following the law. Jesus proposes a new authority. Rather than the ultimate authority of the Law, Jesus proposes Love and Mercy. Even though Mark does not say so, I suspect that those Scribes were also upset because nothing they did ever left the people astonished and wondering: “What does this mean?”

The day of the week is irrelevant as this story goes. What is more important: the sacredness of the Sabbath or the sacredness of Humanity? This is real the issue: what matters most, keeping the rule or taking care of people? In the time of fulfillment that Jesus has proclaimed, in the Reign of God, every day is a Sabbath. In fact, there are no “days” – there is simply the time of fulfillment that Jesus has proclaimed. It is the time when evil is finished, and all its manifestations are gone. So, in the synagogue on that day, because Jesus is there, that man is free, and Jesus is acknowledged. This is something new. It is astonishing not because a man was healed, but because of what it might mean. People really do count? People who are outcasts, weird, possessed really count more than the Sabbath rule? Astonishing! This is something new. What does this mean?

This manifestation of the power of God’s love and mercy left all of those people talking and wondering. Some came to believe. Why only “some”? What would it take for all of them to move from wondering in astonishment to belief? It is a question that turns to us for an answer. The first step toward belief is this astonishment, but when you take a close look at our lives, there is not much to get excited about. We are astonished all the time by the power of evil. Hardly ever does the power of good leave us astonished. Not a day goes by when some terrorist or some deranged person like the man in the synagogue does something horrible that leaves us astonished. It might be time to ask why the power of evil leaves us astonished while the power of love and mercy seem to be so hard to find. The truth is, we are numb. We are anesthetized by all this evil so much so that nothing leaves us astonished anymore. What does this mean?

My own suspicion is that too many of us are concerned with doing things right rather than doing the right thing. They are not often the same. The narcissistic culture we live in cultivates a life style of pleasure and pleasing. We like to please others by doing what they expect and not rocking the boat. Mediocrity is the style of the day. Jesus stood up in the synagogue and did something no one else would do. He told a demon to be quiet. He silenced the voice of evil. He challenged what was wrong in spite of a law that said “Do nothing.” Jesus did not care what day it was. He saw a man in trouble, in the grip of evil, and he did something about it even though the authorities would not approve. What does this mean?

It means that when Jesus Christ is present, evil is going to be challenged. It means that with his coming into this world, there will be no power greater than his. It means that hiding behind rules, laws, and old customs is not the way things go under the reign of God. It means that if we ever take seriously opportunities to do the right thing, to speak up, to act up, to silence the voice of evil with the voice of mercy and love, we will find ourselves right in the middle of the reign of God. We will find ourselves once and for all right in the middle of the Body of Christ, and his authority will be ours not for power or gain, but for mercy and forgiveness, and there is doubt in my mind that this whole world be again be astonished and come to believe because of us. That is the work of discipleship.

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

For each of the evangelists; Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, the first words Jesus says set the theme for that Gospel. Last week we heard the first spoken words according to John: “What are you looking for?” That question weaves its way in and out of all the episodes of John’s Gospel. Today the first spoken words of Mark’s Gospel are set before us: “This is the time of fulfillment. The reign of God is at hand! Reform your lives and believe in the good news!” Once Mark sets this theme that we are living in the time of fulfillment, that God’s reign is beginning, and that our response to this is believing and therefore reforming our lives, Jesus goes to work.

All four disciples are called at once. There is sense of immediacy and urgency that flows through Mark’s Gospel. Hurry up is the mood. Immediate is the response. They put down everything and knowing nothing about where they were going or what this was all about, they followed Jesus. They did not follow an ideology or program. There was no agenda or plan. There was a person. All of this discipleship is personal and relational.

On the other hand, it is important to understand what Jesus is doing. He is not calling them to be priests or bishops. He is calling them to be disciples and then, as the story unfolds, he will send them out in his place with the same message. So there is no reading or listening to this story as an observer. This is not about Peter, James, Andrew and John. It is about everyone who hears the call of Jesus as an invitation to play a part in establishing the reign of God on this earth. What makes this news that we are living in the final and sacred time of God’s reign believable is the change in their lives; a sign of repentance.

The outward sign that those four men repented or changed their value systems is when they put people instead of fish as the center of their lives. That is unmistakable repentance. People now come first; not their jobs, not their possessions (nets and boats) not the old predictable way of life, people now come first as Jesus will show them along the way.

If it was so then, so it is now. Every single one of us has experienced a call to enter into a relationship with Jesus Christ. We have no idea where it will lead us, and what it will ask of us. We do know that repentance is required of those who will live in this time of fulfillment in the presence of and in the reign of God. We know that nothing else can come first except people because the relationship we have with Jesus Christ is lived and celebrated within the people he has called his own. Discipleship with Jesus Christ which is our call, it demands an immediate response, a willingness to abandon old ways, old values, expectations, and ways of looking even at ourselves.

Peter, Andrew, James, and John left what they knew to live differently. That is the choice facing every one of us God calls. We all have nets. The nets of this world and the things we are used to. They keep us from becoming true followers of Christ. They are the kind of nets in which we are entangled. Sin can be a net; cynicism, self-interest and greed. There are nets of racism, addiction, anger, despair and indifference. We get trapped in nets of mediocrity just getting by. But the call of Christ insists that we look deeply at our own habits and our own hearts. If it looks like too much of a challenge, there is one important detail to remember: we are not alone. When Jesus called those fishermen, they didn’t leave the lives they knew on their own. They went in pairs: Simon and Andrew, James and John.

The beautiful message is this: being a follower of Christ is not a solitary act. Being a Christian involves another, many others, in fact. The early Christians understood that; it was about celebrating Christ’s life, death, and resurrection in community and in communion. They prayed together. They shared the Eucharist together. They traveled together. They preached together. They were persecuted and martyred together too. In community, they found strength during times of great joy and great suffering. It is not different today.

Twenty centuries later, we continue what they began. That first call of the fishermen, two by two, has echoed around the world. Believers gather, in community, to share our love for God, our love for one another, and our passion for the Gospel message. We proclaim what we believe. We lift our eyes to a miracle: God in a piece of elevated bread that when consumed forms a Holy People. The body of Christ is uplifted, and so are we. But it will be meaningless if we just go home and go on with our lives. Like Simon and Andrew and James and John, we are called to leave our old ways of doing things, our familiar and comfortable ways of living. Ultimately, we are called to walk away and follow him. It is a call to sacrifice, to surrender, to trust, and change. The kingdom of God is at hand, Jesus proclaimed. It can be ours. But first, we need to abandon our nets and reform our lives.

1 Samuel 3, 3-10, 19 + Psalm 40 + 1 Corinthians 6, 13-15, 17-20 + John 1, 35-42

Saint Peter the Apostle Parish   Naples, Florida

The first words that Jesus speaks in John’s Gospel are heard today: “What are you looking for?” This question is essential to faith. Three times in John’s Gospel this question is asked. The first time is today. Then in the Garden of Olives after the Last Supper it will be asked again of those who come to arrest him. Finally it is asked one more time on Easter Sunday when Mary Magdalen comes to the tomb. The question frames the whole Gospel and the answer determines discipleship or opposition. There is no other way.

We all answer this question even when there are no words, for what we do always reveals what we are looking for. A person who knows what they are looking for in life has vision and purpose. What we are looking for drives our decisions, shapes our relationships, and reveals our values. Like the disciples in this first chapter of John’s Gospel, we may not have words to answer the question, but what we do says it all. While they did not answer the question, they followed him, and that said it all.

This is a fascinating dialogue. Jesus asks a question, and instead of answering the question, the disciples ask a question. He says: “What are you looking for?” and they say: “Where do you stay?” Now, I don’t know about you, but there have been many times in my life when I have been asked a question for which I had no answer, and one of my tested ways to avoid revealing ignorance is to ask another question. It would sometimes go like this: “Where are you going?” someone asks. I say: “Why do you want to know?”

I suggest that this is what is happening between Jesus and those disciples John the Baptist has sent them to Jesus. They do not know what they are looking for, so rather than admit it, they change the subject. However, it doesn’t work. They ask their question, and Jesus says: “Come and See.” At that moment in John’s Gospel, it is as though the lights come on and the curtain goes up. Keep reading, and you’re going to find an answer to both questions. Watch them become disciples all the way through the Passion, the Resurrection, and Pentecost. It will become obvious what they are looking for. They want to know where Jesus is to be found. He does not give them a street address. He gives them a life-style we call discipleship, and after some time, near the end of his life among them, he sits them down at a table and says: “Abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in me just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love”. What he eventually reveals to them in answer to their question is that he lives in them. This is where he is to be found: in the lives of faithful disciples.

In these days as we prepare for the beginning of Lent, it might be a good time to reflect on and take a close look at how our lives reveal what we are looking for. As a church we do not preach a Gospel of Prosperity that suggests that those who have are somehow more blessed than those who live in want. We do not preach a gospel that suggests that good times are a reward and bad times are a punishment. We preach, live, teach, and profess a Gospel of presence that promises we shall never be alone. It is a Gospel that reveals a God who has been through it all with us from birth, and the terrorism of Herod, to betrayals by trusted and loved friends, through misunderstanding, abandonment, death, and finally the victory of the resurrection.

This is what we must seek: the confidence and hope, the assurance and the peace of mind that comes from knowing that we dwell in God and God dwells in us. When our lives begin to reveal this, others in this world will be at least tempted to reconsider their search for power, prestige, privilege, and wealth, a search that always leaves others in want and in need. So we ponder today the question Jesus asks to determine whether or not we are in opposition or in discipleship. There is probably no other option.

Isaiah 42, 1-4. 6-7 + Psalm 29 + Acts 10, 34-38 + Mark 1, 7-11

MS Westerdam

The only ones who hear anything in Mark’s Gospel are you, me, and Jesus. None of the bystanders hear a thing. They do not hear those words we hear. Do you wonder why? I think it is because at that moment they have not been baptized. It is not to suggest that they are excluded, but it is to say that baptism and hearing the Word of God results in one being claimed by God, becoming a servant of God, and beginning the work that all the baptized are privileged to continue: making known the loving and saving plan of God for all humankind. From that moment on, everything he says and everything he does is God’s. There is no private life. There is no civil life, and no religious life. There is no spiritual life either. There is only the Life of God living within one has been baptized, and heard the Word of God speaking.

We live such compartmentalized lives these days. The life of a wife or husband, the life of a parent, the life of some kind of profession. Somehow I suppose it is one way to keep organized and not fly off in a hundred different directions. We have a faith life, we have the life of a citizen, some have the life in the military, or a life in healthcare, or law. I have had the life of a Pastor. It is all so neat and orderly. Yet, it is also so artificial and so far from what we were called to become on the day of our Baptism.

Living like this leads us to think and say things like: “Sundays are for God, the rest of the week if for business” or pleasure or politics where religion plays no part. This kind of thinking is not in tune with nor worthy of what we have become as sons and daughters of God. By virtue of our Baptism, we have been born into the life of Christ, a life that knew no distinctions or categories. It was and still is for us, a life that is totally and completely integrated and whole meaning that everything we do is directed to and by God. Everything.

Folding laundry, grocery shopping, driving the kids to school, reading with them, calling and checking on your parents or your neighbor, working, or studying: it’s all about God, because of God, and for God. In this thinking and in this life, there are no “have to-s”. Everything is a “get to”. All is gift. All is privilege. All is gratitude. Faith is not excluded from anything. In fact, faith is involved in everything we do and every decision we make.

This is what we learn from Mark’s story of Baptism. That having been claimed by God and having heard as we just did the voice of God claiming us, everything is changed. Now there is a reason and a purpose for everything we do here: the glory of God and the revelation of God’s presence and God’s will.

When people encounter those who are truly baptized, and baptized in the Spirit of God, they always wonder, “What kind of person is this?” at which point, they begin to desire and seek for themselves that loving place in God’s heart. This is the beginning of the “fullness” of life which is what we are offered through Jesus Christ.

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

MS Westerdamm

My seven year old grandnephew sits safely in the back seat of my car on occasions when I am visiting, and he knows the neighborhood better than I do, especially the way home from school and to Target and the Dollar General Store. He knows that I do not always get it right when I am taking them somewhere so he sits back there imitating the voice on the GPS system amazingly well. Problems occur when he does not speak up soon enough for me to make the turns he announces in his mechanical voice. When I miss, he says: “At the next opportunity, make a legal U turn.” I am not sure he knows what a “legal U Turn is, but he does know that we have to go back. In thinking about this familiar and imaginative Gospel story, I wonder if those Magi might have done better to have had a GPS strapped to the back of the camel. It would have at least kept them away from Herod.

That word “Magi” has the same root as our word, “Magic”, and their story is certainly a magic one in which the entire summary of the Gospel message unfolds with Matthew’s skillful story telling. The first two chapters of his Gospel contain the Good News of Salvation and the proclamation of Jesus as savior of the world. In these chapters, Matthew establishes God’s universal concern, the divine origins of Jesus and his authority as Messiah along with the necessity of the worldwide mission of the church. Consequently this is not just a wonderful story to tell again and again, but it is a piece of revelation through which God reveals the plan for salvation, and the one who will be savior. Magicians force us to look at things and to look for things. “How did you do that?” is always the question. While we are wondering about it, we are looking, looking at things in a different way. It has always seemed to me that this three Magicians are still doing that to us, exciting us enough to look at things in a new way. They looked a little child apparently born in poverty, and they say a king. They looked at Jesus in Bethlehem and remembered the prophet’s words about that place, and they saw the Messiah. They looked into the face of Mary and Joseph and saw what they would one day see: the divine presence, Immanuel, in people who heard the Word of God and kept it. By the standards of this world they brought riches far greater than what they found. By divine standards they found wealth beyond imagining.

While Matthew tells the story of a magical star, it is not really the star that leads the Magi. It is faith. Faith is what inspired them, motivated them, and brought them to foot of the Messiah. It was faith and hope that made them look for the star and gave them the courage to follow the star. It was the Love they encountered there that inspired them to return another way diverting the evil of Herod’s power. Matthew says nothing more about a star for their return. Perhaps that is because having seen the Light of the World they needed nothing more to lead them home.

Sirach 3, 2-6, 12-14 + Psalm 128 + Colossians 3, 12-21 + Luke 2, 22-40

St Francis of Assisi Parish Castle Rock, CO

If you do not understand what Luke is doing with this story, there is a danger of thinking that this family who come to the temple are somehow different from us. This is not the case. These announcements by Simeon and Anna are a tool that the Biblical writer uses to lead us to a deeper meaning. It is the same kind of tool that Shakespeare uses to tell the audience what characters are thinking or what is about to happen. In literature class we called these, “soliloquies”. These are not part of the story for the characters, but they are inserted for the reader. Not understanding that removes Mary and Joseph from reality making their lives and their family so unique that they cannot possibly relate to our experiences. That is a loss.

At the time it is perfectly logical and likely that two old people found every day in the Temple were speaking to and blessing every couple that came to fulfill the law. It is as though they did not want to miss the Messiah they longed for, so they were there for every child. There is nothing in this text that suggests Mary and Joseph were the only couple they greeted. What is important is that Mary and Joseph went to the temple. It is a detail that Luke provides to refute rumors in the early church that they were not good Jews. There is care all through Luke’s Gospel to show that they observed all the laws and customs.

When Simeon announces that this child will be a light to the Gentiles, Luke is telling us about the faith future of gentiles. It is like those “teasers” that get our attention to watch the news: “Stay tuned, details at 10:00.” Simeon’s announcement that this child will face opposition keeps us tuned in to see what that is all about.

We must remember then that this couple were real parents. They had no idea what was coming, what this child was going to be like, and since he was their first born, they didn’t even have any practice at parenting. We get no details about their private lives except one occasion when they get separated from their son, and another occasion when his mother goes with family members to get him and take him away. It sounds more like an intervention than anything else. They thought he was going to get into trouble with the way he was talking and challenging the authorities.

Anyone here ever get separated from one of your children? Nothing special about that except that it scares you to death and when it is over you don’t know how to feel. This is a real family. This is where and how God chose to begin the work of salvation and redemption: in the context of a family. This is fundamental Incarnation. God with us, Immanuel, is revealed in a family, and not just once. God is still being revealed in your family and in mine. The hand of God, the presence of God, the love of God, the forgiveness of God, the tenderness of God, the mercy of God: it’s all there when you choose to look and see.

This feast reminds us to look within. It is not an occasion to look out and put Mary and Joseph on a pedestal suggesting that their home and their relationships and their experiences were not the same as our own. My own opinion is that there is no information about their private home family life because it was so ordinary and so real. No news there, nothing to report.

The sword in the heart is an important detail. A sword is something that divides, cuts in two. It is a startling image for what Jesus will accomplish and what salvation will require of us. A sword piercing someone’s heart refers to discerning what God is doing in someone’s life, and their willingness to follow through on the painful consequences that flow from such discernment and choices. A discerning person sees things others miss, and therefore does things other people refuse to do.

A sword in the heart causes people to make decisions many would rather not have been forced to make. Mary’s heart experienced the same sword we all experience. No one comes into contact with her son without having to decide one way or the other about their faith and lifestyle. Do we reject or accept? Only by the decisions we make are the “thoughts of one’s heart revealed.”

Throughout his Gospel, Luke affirms that Mary chose the correct side of the sword. He shows her to be the perfect Christian: someone who hears God’s word and carries it out. Yet, because of the way we often fail to understand these Biblical stories, we fail to appreciate that she, along with everyone else who encountered the historical Jesus, had to make faith decisions. She and Joseph would only receive the insights contained in the Gospel after their son’s resurrection, not before. Except for the unique mystery of how Jesus’ conception came about, they had to relate to their son along the lines most parents relate to their children. Only their later reflections would make sense out of earlier events. It is the same for all of us. After things settle down and time passes and heals do we often understand and see what it was all about, what God was doing, and how we all grow in wisdom and faith. It’s always a matter of seeing things other miss and doing things others refuse to do.

Isaiah 62, 11-12 + Psalm 97 + Titus 3, 4-7 + Matthew 1, 18-25

St Francis of  Assisi Parish, Castle Rock, CO

Those of you looking at missals or hymnals know that a different Gospel has been proclaimed from the one publishers expected. Since I am new to some of you, I have taken the liberty of doing something new by choosing the Gospel from the Vigil of Christmas since none of you were here for the Vigil of Christmas. As far as I can tell, there wasn’t one, so Matthew’s Gospel gets lost in the scheduling of our lives, and I’m not sure that’s a good thing. When the church arranged the readings for this feast, the plan was for Matthew to start and John to finish. So, I want to take you to the beginning.

Because we know how the story turns out, we do not hear this story the way people did for whom Matthew is writing. They knew nothing about how it ends or what is being revealed. So every detail Matthew provides was something new, curious, and thought provoking. We fail to sense the anxiety, the fear, the conflict, and the possible consequences unfolding in this moment. Our romantic approach to these events and sometimes our piety overlooks troubling elements of the story that are part of the message. There is more being said here than what John’s Gospel says so starkly, “And the Word was made flesh and dwelt amongst us.”

In the center of this story stands Joseph who having not been conceived without sin, having not been called “Blessed” by an angel is more like us than the Virgin Mary. I’ve always thought we ought to pay a lot more attention to Joseph than we have historically. Luke’s Gospel is the version that has captured the imagination of artists, poets, and songwriters. Luke’s Gospel has more to say about Mary than the other Gospels. The cast of characters in Matthew’s Gospel is more simple. Have you noticed that no one ever puts on a play or pageant using Matthew’s Gospel version? It would be very short. There is no music, no choir of angels, no sheep, no shepherds!

At the heart of this gospel we have “an upright man.” More literal translations call him a “righteous man.” At the heart of this Gospel there is a serious conflict and a powerful lesson. It is a conflict that weaves its way through the life of Jesus and his struggle with the Scribes and Pharisees. It is conflict found in our own lives. Joseph’s uneasy story about what to do is part of the message here. Joseph begins to redefine what it means to be “upright” or “righteous.”

Simply put, before Joseph being “upright” or “righteous” meant one thing: following the rules and obeying the laws. Nothing else mattered. The consequences of strictly following the rules were irrelevant. After Joseph, being “upright” and “righteous” means something else.

Joseph should have followed the law and put Mary away, meaning publically breaking off the engagement and leaving her to live with the consequence of having a child that was not his. What is he to say to people: “An angel told me what to do”? No one is going to believe in talking angels, a child conceived by the Holy Spirit, who ever heard of that before? No way! If he did not follow the rules, he would have been cut off from everyone, no friends, no business for the shop, his reputation would have been ruined, and he would no longer be admired and respected as a lover and follower of the Torah. His whole life would have been trashed. His decision, his willingness to sacrifice everything by doing what is right rather than follow the rules is major part of this story.

Do you ever wonder why God waited and let Joseph struggle with all this stuff and then sends the angel? It would have been a lot easier if the angel had come first to explain everything and remove the anxiety. It is possible though that anxiety removal is not God’s number one goal. It is possible that in getting his world turned upside down, in having to struggle between what he thought he should (follow the rules) and what he ought to do (be merciful), God was leading him to a new understanding of what it means to be “upright” and “righteous.”

When Joseph was long dead and Jesus was a grown man, he taught in Matthew’s Gospel (5, 20) “Unless your righteousness passes that of the Pharisees and the Teachers of the law you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.” Jesus must have been thinking that he had seen the better kind of righteousness firsthand in Joseph.

God had a reason for this odd, painful, lonely way to start a family. Perhaps God still calls people to be willing to die to reputation, status, and comfort for the sake of love. When Joseph decided to proceed to take Mary for his wife, he thought it was the end of his being known as a righteous man. He gave up concern about what other people would think, and realized that just following the rules is not always the right thing to do. He did not know fully that the child he would adopt would bring to the human race a new kind of righteousness. This is a big part of what we celebrate this Christmas.

2 Samuel 7, 1-5,8-11, 16 + Psalm 89 + Romans 16, 25-27 + Luke 1, 26-38

MS Eurodam & St Sebastian Parish, Ft Lauderdale

The last of Advent’s prophets is heard today. Samuel is responsible for crowning David as King, and so the book that bears his name describes Israel’s transition from the period of the “Judges” to the Monarchy under Saul and David. It is not a history, but simply a series of episodes centered on the principal characters of Samuel, Saul, and David. Our church listens to Samuel just before Christmas because it can lead us to anticipate and prepare for the coming of one who brings hope to fulfillment, history to term, and holiness to perfection, Christ, the son of David and promised Messiah.

So there is way more to this passage than just a story telling about David’s desire to build a Temple, a dwelling for God motivated by the fact that David is living in a palace. Behind the resistance that Samuel reveals is the fact that in some way, David’s wish will be a way of controlling and containing God. “If I put God in a house, I will know where God is.” For those interested, it also reflects a theological shift from the age of the Judges to the Monarchy. In the previous age, under the leadership of the “Judges” the presence of God was experienced in the corporate community, the People of Israel. Now the shift goes to the monarchy. Where the King is the sign of God’s rule and presence.

At a deeper level, this matter leads us and prepares us to ponder again the mystery of the Incarnation, Christmas. In sharp contrast to David’s plan comes God’s plan. Instead of a Golden Temple in Jerusalem, there is a stable in an out of the way little town called: Bethlehem. Instead or royal robes and a king’s armor for battle, there are swaddling clothes that upon a second look appear to be a shroud. This contrast of images leads us to wonder about the dwelling place of God, and the light of faith leads us to see the Word Made Flesh as God’s choice to dwell within and among us.

Before our ancestors built great churches, God had already made a choice of where to dwell. There are some who believe that the very beginning of the Christian community’s possession of land and buildings was the beginning of trouble, and there is evidence to support that thinking. Everywhere in the western world today, church buildings are becoming a burden, source of division and conflict as leaders begin to deal with the fact that they cannot be maintained by a handful of people, and that the real works of charity and service are challenged by the demands of leaky roofs and heating bills for enormous buildings used a few hours a week by a congregation half the size they were built for. Meanwhile people go without roofs or heat because there is nothing left for them. This is not to suggest that we  should have no place to meet, to pray, to worship, and be strengthened by God’s Word, but it is a reminder that what makes this place holy is the people who gather here in covenant. The Blessed Sacrament in that tabernacle could not be there without first assembling the faithful people in the presence of God to be fed by that sacrament.

What Samuel and David remind us of today is that the first dwelling place of God is in our hearts and in our lives. Understanding that truth and believing it changes the way we look at all of God’s people. The comfort we experience in a heated or cooled church with light and bathrooms and convenient parking should at once make us uncomfortable for those who have not, and in that way, these buildings serve a good and saving purpose. In thinking of this, I recalled something the late Cardinal Bernadine of Chicago is once said to have spoken at a dinner honoring wealthy donors. “The poor need you to help them, and you need the poor to keep you out of hell.”

We come into our churches in order to be sent out. That is the final instruction at the conclusion of every Mass. We come here hungry to be fed and are told to feed others. We cannot worship God in this place and hold in contempt or disrespect any of God’s children. This is the message we draw from David and Samuel. It is the earliest hint about what God has planned and will reveal in sending God’s only Son to live and die among us. As we look at the message of these readings, it seems we are being invited to savor the mystery. Through Nathan, God told David that it was not time to build a temple. God, not David, was building the future, and no temple should get in the way or try to circumscribe God’s initiatives. God cannot be walled in. As Nathan reminded David, God chooses to remain with us in our wanderings.

The familiar story of Mary’s experience must be ours as well. What we will soon celebrate is more than the birth of her child. It is mystery of the Incarnation, the mystery of God’s life and presence within us all still waiting to be born.

Isaiah 61, 1-2, 10-11 + Luke 1, 46-48, 49-50, 53-54 + 1 Thessalonians 5, 16-24 + John 1, 6-8, 19-28

MS Eurodam in the Caribbean

Again the words of a Prophet stir our hearts and minds in Advent’s third week. It is almost as though today’s text is the prophet’s response to last week’s command from God who said: “Do something” or “Comfort my people”. Instead of saying, “Who me? Get someone else” or “I don’t have time”, the true prophetic person pauses and reflects remembering whose command it is and responds: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me.” The comforting of last week is now described in detail, and with it comes the spirit of the message which must possess the heart of the messenger.

It has always struck me as strange and sad that so many look upon religion, and especially our own faith tradition as something guilt ridden, dark, and doom filled. I think this says more about the messenger than the message. This is never clearer to me than when I speak with parents about the possibility of a religious vocation for their children. I can’t count the times when I have been stunned to hear them respond seriously that they want their children to be happy implying that I am not. I have always taken that response as a reason to check my attitude and behavior. Perhaps somehow I have failed to convey and bear witness to the full and joyful life to which I have been called. It is not a burden to be celibate. It is not unpleasant to proclaim God’s forgiveness to the repentant. It is privilege and joy to sit with the dying as visible evidence of God’s presence, and it is humbling and wonderful to share the greatest moments of joy or of sadness with God’s people. These are the very ingredients of happiness.

We are not prophets of doom and destruction, punishment and death. Our faith and practice of it is no burden. It is a privilege. It is not a serious obligation nor a complicated set of rules. It is an invitation to Joy that comes from hope fulfilled living in the promise that a God of mercy loves us even when we are not loving ourselves.

Recently I was in Lourdes which is, to me, one of the most holy and joyful places on earth. People come there from all over the world sick and frail, troubled and depressed, lost and confused. Yet, in the midst of that, there is always joy. There are smiles and happiness, confidence and faith. These are a people who have the spirit of the Lord upon them. I walked in the procession one night alongside a young couple pushing a complicated wheelchair that held their child. My candle was blown out by the wind. The child who could barely speak from some unnamed malady shouted up at me and held out the light of his candle for me with smile bright enough to illuminate the heavens. I’m walking on two feet after seven decades of life, and this child who has never taken a step gives me a light and smile.

My friends, we have glad tidings, and we are the tidings. We have good news, and we are the news. If the God of our faith is not the God of joy this prophet speaks of something has gone wrong. We either have some idol like power for a god or we have no faith. In the midst of this season, at the darkest time of the year when nights are longer than days, we are all there is to brighten the night and bring on the day. The anointing of our Baptism and Confirmation is enough. If you are here and hear this Word of God, you are the ones “clothed with the robe of salvation” as the prophetic word said today.

Our witness to the joy that real faith sustains is more than just seasonal. It is more than a verse on a card or a wish in greeting. It is way of life that will bring liberty to captives, heal the broken hearted, and freedom to those held bound by ignorance, doubt, guilt, or even the injustice of poverty imposed upon them. Catholicism as we see it now in our Pope Frances is again about joy, smiles, laughter, patience, tolerance, wisdom and peace. This is who we are and what we are, and this world longs for the hope that joy can provide.