The Word Became Flesh

The Nativity of the Lord (Christmas)
December 25, 2023 — Year B
Readings: Is 52:7-10 / Ps 98 / Heb 1:1-6 / Jn 1:1-18
by Rev. Jay Biber, Guest Celebrant

I love John’s gospel this morning. Of course, I love Luke’s gospel at the night Masses. Luke’s gospel, which goes into all the detail about the manger, then the trip of Mary and Joseph, and no room at the inn. All of those specifics of going for enrollment in the Roman census. All the details, very specific details.

John’s gospel was the product of what would seem to be a later reflection, a later gospel. John, of course, was the one apostle who did not pour out his blood for the faith. The other eleven all gave themselves as martyrs, except John. John was the youngest apostle at the time of Christ and would live to be the oldest. The writings attributed to John in the New Testament come from a period of more mature reflection, just like we can look back on our lives. When you look back, you understand it with a different eye. You can look at it differently, because enough life has happened to you.

John talks about the Incarnation in these famous words of “Et verbum caro factum est, et habitavit in nobis.” The Word, the second Person of the Trinity, co-eternal with the Father and the Holy Spirit. When God speaks, it’s that Word that goes out and takes on flesh, caro. Et habitavit in nobis – and lived among us. It’s that first great mystery that God has chosen, and it’s so great a mystery. God has chosen to take on flesh while still being God at the same time.

And not only that, but He has depended on the “yes” of Mary to do it. She wasn’t forced. She wasn’t a robot. She chose to take Him within her womb. We see human dignity in God’s taking on flesh. That must mean something really enormous about our flesh, about the human dignity of it. It’s from the beginning, willed by God.

And then, dwelt among us. But the way He does it: in all humility, coming through the womb, so the womb itself becomes a place of great mystery, the touch of the divine in it, capable of bearing divinity. Mary bore divinity, because Christ was who He was: He was the Word. He was the second Person. He is the Word.

Why? Because our flesh had lost its brilliance through the original sin of self-sufficiency: “We can do it on our own. We’re not meant to need anybody.” Oh yes, it’s disobedience, but I suspect it was that spirit of self-sufficiency that preceded the actual disobedience. “I don’t have to have a God; I can be one. Oh that sounds good: I can be one.”

One of the customs of the Church, to emphasize the Incarnation, is to bow during the Creed, when we say “and He became Man.” We’re meant to physically bring the body into worship. But today we genuflect at those words.

In the fifth century the Church began making a proclamation at Christmas, maybe because they said, this is so great, this is so unimaginable, when you really think of it. It was sung last night. It announces the Incarnation. “When God in the beginning created heaven and earth,” it goes back. “Century upon century had passed.” “In the twenty-first century since Abraham, our father in faith,” so we’re beginning with the Old Testament. “The thirteenth century since the people of Israel were led by Moses in the Exodus.” “Around the thousandth year since David was anointed king,” so we’re squarely in the tradition of Israel here. “In the sixty-fifth week of the prophecy of Daniel.”

It’s locating this moment, and of course that’s how we measure time. That’s our calendar. Christ enters – God enters – history. Not some sort of crystal, new age thing, but tangible, physical, material.

But then it leaves the Old Testament. “In the one hundred and ninety-fourth Olympiad.” Obviously that has nothing to do with Israel. It’s got to do with Athens, the great capital of the Greek empire, before Rome. And so now it’s situated in the secular world. This gives meaning to the secular world as well as the specifically religious. It touches everything. This is when the Incarnation happened: in the one hundred and ninety-fourth Olympiad.

And then, let’s take it to the next empire: to Rome. “In the year seven hundred and fifty-two since the foundation of the city of Rome.” And then more; you see the portal narrows. “In the forty-second year of the reign of that particular Roman emperor, Caesar Octavian Augustus, the whole world being at peace.”  The stage is set now.

“Jesus Christ, eternal God and Son of the eternal Father, desiring to consecrate the world by His most loving presence, was conceived by the Holy Spirit.” That’s what we call the Annunciation, on March 25, really our first celebration of the Incarnation, because Christ was who He was in Mary’s womb, just like you were, from the first moment of your conception. You were who you were. “And was born of the Virgin Mary in Bethlehem of Judah and was made man.”

We often look to redemption as the passion of Christ, but this is the first of the two great pillars of our redemption: the Incarnation, because He takes flesh, because God’s plan has always been that we would be spirit and matter, spirit and flesh. That’s how we’re saved. Not in spite of that, but in that structure.

Why did God do it this way? He could have made it so nice and clean, so nice and tidy. He could have made it so we couldn’t sin, and so our sin wouldn’t affect others. But He didn’t make it that way. I prefer to think that that’s because of our greatness, because of that potential greatness that’s there, if we turn everything over to Him. If we make that real surrender, then life begins to pop.

Think of the details of Mary’s life. First of all, the Annunciation. You’re going to have a baby, from the Holy Spirit. And there’s Mary’s first yes, followed by a series of yesses all the way through, at each moment. A series of yesses, none of which she would have scripted, none of which situations she would have scripted herself, I don’t think. But she keeps saying yes, she keeps saying I trust, let it be done to me according to your word.

Part of me says I wish I could really celebrate Christmas, but there are so many distractions, so many things that get into my head and mess with my head, whether it’s stuff in the Church right now, stuff in the world, in our culture, and on and on and on.  If only I weren’t so distracted by these things, if I weren’t giving them rent-free space in my head, then I could really focus on the beauty of God.

Well, think of Mary.  Talk about distractions! Everything. Are they talking a little bit and whispering in town? And then the census is announced, and Joseph, the father of the family, would historically go and sign up like he’s supposed to within the Roman empire. But Mary goes with him. She didn’t have to go. You wouldn’t expect the mother and the children to go for those things. She went.

And then, it comes time to give birth, no room at the inn. She still says yes, and she gives birth in the manger. If anybody’s ever had an Italian grandmother, trying to make you eat, she’ll say “Mangia, mangia.” That’s our word manger. Manger is the French, same spelling, meaning to eat.

So He who will provide – think of the mystery — in His body, that Body and Blood of Christ that many of us will receive later this morning, He who will feed the world and strengthen the world until it comes time for God’s project to finally wind up in the final judgment. He who feeds the world is born in the place where the animals feed, the trough. And Mary continues to say yes.

So don’t ever expect your Christmas day or your Christmas season to be without distractions. For some reason God has chosen the Incarnation as His way, and that’s messy. Birth, children, that’s messy. But somehow, for those eyes of faith that can look into that reality, there is a divine beauty as well. And so, through the grace of God, I’ll expect distractions every Christmas.

There’ll always be something wrong, easy to find, but if I can keep my eyes on Mary and her Son who lived among us, then those distractions can be very, very significantly reduced. Then we can, in all situations, come to this great feast thankful and hopeful.

Mary in the Annunciation

Fourth Sunday of Advent 
December 24, 2023 — Year B
Readings: 2 Sm 7:1-5, 8b-12, 14a, 16 / Ps 89 / Rom 16:25-27 / Lk 1:26-38
by Rev. Mr. Mark De La Hunt, Permanent Deacon

It is still Advent, but in case I don’t see you at Christmas Eve Mass today, Merry Christmas, Maligayang Pasko, Feliz Navidad, Joyeaux Noёl, Buon Natale, and Wesołych świąt.

Holy Name of Mary parish is dedicated to Jesus’ mother, Mary, and on this Fourth Sunday of Advent we enter into the first joyful mystery of her most holy rosary, the Annunciation. As a deacon in a Marian parish, how can I not center the homily on Mary, when Luke centered the beginning of his gospel on her “who was with child (Lk 2:5)?” Interestingly, Matthew starts his gospel centered on Mary as well and, though John waited until chapter two to introduce Mary, chapter one prepared for her grand entrance at Cana, with Mary as the Queen Mother, asking her son, Jesus the King, to help the young married couple.

In a predominantly Protestant area, we can feel uncomfortable speaking of Mary, even to the point of fearing mentioning the name of our parish. Peter Kreeft said that “[non-Catholic Christians] object to our Catholic devotion to Mary because they think it detracts from our adoration of Jesus.” He added, “In fact, it is exactly the opposite: the more we love Mary, the more we love Jesus, and the more we love Jesus, the more we love Mary (Kreeft 82).”  Along those same lines, to try to put non-Catholics at ease with honoring Mary, someone once said, “You cannot love Mary more than Jesus does.”

But Peter Kreeft upped the ante and tied having a relationship with Mary to discipleship, to following Jesus. He wrote, “Jesus gave us Mary, when He said to St. John, the only disciple who stayed with Him at the cross, “Behold your mother” (John 19:27). So if we, like John, want to be Jesus’ disciples, if we want to be as close to Jesus as John was at the cross, then we must be close to Mary, because Jesus gave us Mary (82).”

Dr. Kreeft’s words are worth reflecting on. To be a disciple who will stand and face death and a seeming loss of all hope like John looking upon Jesus dying on the cross, it is most helpful to have Mary, the only perfect disciple, at your side like he did. For John must have realized that no matter how much sorrow he felt at that moment, it was not as deep as Mary’s, looking upon her only child dying in agony. Yet despite the awfulness of it all, neither Jesus’ suffering, a mocking crowd, nor the threat of mighty Roman soldiers could tear her from her Son’s side. When she told the angel Gabriel, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word,” she meant it for better or for worse (Lk 1: 38).

From the moment of her freewill consent, she became the Christ Bearer, the Mother of God. How did she prepare to bring Jesus into the world? First, she set out to care for someone in need, her cousin Elizabeth who Gabriel told her had conceived a child in her old age (Lk 1:39-56). Second, she and Joseph patiently suffered in faith and hope, traveling eighty miles or so from Nazareth to Bethlehem. Mary suffering in discomfort, probably riding a donkey, being so near to giving birth. Joseph, hurting from a longing to take her suffering upon himself, but only able to give her his tender care. Joseph suffering from not being able to find her a comfortable room in which to give birth, and Mary suffering from having to give birth away from the comfort of her home and friends (Lk 2: 1-7).

But as He always does, God brought them great joy and consolation when they thought they could endure no more pain and anxiety. Mary shows us the way to live our lives in faith and trust in God’s plan for us. This side of heaven, our journey will entail suffering and pain at times, but with Mary, we can bear it patiently, with great hope, and even joy. The hope and joy she brings to us is her Son.

In The Lord of the Rings movies based on the books of devout Catholic J.R.R. Tolkien, the battle between despair and hope, darkness and light is vividly displayed in rich symbolism for the cause for Mary’s hope. One depiction takes place at a great battle called Helm’s Deep (The Two Towers). The battle begins in darkness and rain, and the enemy vastly outnumbers the free people. They fight with valiant hope, but eventually wear down and accept that death is their fate, that evil will triumph over good and darkness over light. But then, they look to the east, to the rising sun, and grace descends upon them in the form of friends and an angelic figure, dressed in white, charging down a high hill to their aid.

In a second depiction, an even greater battle is taking place, and the situation is even more hopeless. A great white, stone city (think of it as your soul) is under siege and burning (The Return of the King). The city’s caretaker has fallen into despair from listening to the enemy’s voice more than to the voices of wise friends.  As he walks in a somber procession to “die as he chooses,” the camera blurs out that hopeless scene and focuses on a single white flower that was barely noticeable in the foreground. The white flower was a sign, long awaited, that the city’s true king had returned and would restore the city to its former grandeur.

And so, here we are on the last Sunday of Advent, some of our suffering being voluntary from extra prayer, fasting, and charity, and some from the burdens and sorrows of life that weigh upon the young and old, rich and poor, strong and weak alike. If we bear our suffering and burdens with Mary, we will see what she saw in Bethlehem: hope in the newborn Savior, and hear what she heard from the shepherds about angels’ appearing in light with a message of peace. At every Mass, we, like those in Tolkien’s story at Helm’s Deep, look to the east.  Catholic Churches, whenever possible, are oriented such that the altar is set in that direction.

In our suffering and worries, we look to the altar. We hear Father call to us, not to despair in the cares of this world, but to “lift up our hearts (Roman Missal Preface).” And then a little while later, he encourages us to, “Behold the Lamb of God,” and we look up, to the east and see Father, clothed in white like that angelic figure at Helm’s Deep, holding the rising Son, Jesus come to save us (Roman Missal The Order of Mass). Notice that to look upon the Eucharist is like looking upon the white flower in Tolkien’s white city. It is both reminder and reality that our long-awaited King has returned and will restore our soul to the grandeur God made it for from the beginning. Jesus did this for His mother from the moment of her conception, which is why the angel Gabriel called Mary by the title, “full of grace (Lk 1:28).”

I am going to close this homily with a poem that Peter Kreeft shared, entitled “Jesus and Mary.” It illustrates how knowing Mary helps us know her Son, especially in graces God sends to us and most especially in the Eucharist.  Don’t get lost in all the words but hang on to the ones that touch your heart the most.

Body of Christ from Mary’s body;

Blood of Christ, from Mary’s blood.

Jesus the bread, Mary the yeast;

Mary the kitchen, Jesus the feast.

Mary the mother by whom we are fed;

Mary the oven, Jesus the bread.

Mary the soil, Jesus the vine;

Mary the wine maker, Jesus the wine.

Jesus the Tree of Life, Mary the sod;

Mary our God-bearer, Jesus our God.

Mary the silkworm, Jesus the silk;

Mary the nurse, Jesus the milk.

Mary the stem, Jesus the flower;

Mary the stairway, Jesus the tower.

Mary and Jesus, our castle entire;

Mary the fireplace, Jesus the fire.

Mary God’s ink, Jesus God’s name;

Mary the burning bush, Jesus the flame.

Mary the paper, Jesus the Word;

Mary the nest, Jesus the bird.

Mary the artery, Jesus the blood;

Mary the floodgate, Jesus the flood.

Mary and Jesus, our riches untold;

Mary the gold mine, Jesus the gold.

(Kreeft 82)

Mary, our mother, ask your Son to enable us always and in all circumstances, to remember to look east so that the Star of Joy and Hope may rise in our hearts and minds, every week being an Advent and every Sunday Mass a Christmas for us. Amen.

CITATIONS

J.R.R. Tolkien. “The Two Towers” and “The Return of the King.” New Line Productions, Inc. 2002-2003.

Kreeft, Peter. “Food for the Soul; Reflections on the Mass Readings, Cycle B.” Word on Fire 2023.

The Catholic Church. “The Roman Missal.” Catholic Book Publishing Corp., N.J. 2011.

He Is in Our Midst

Third Sunday of Advent
December 17, 2023 — Year B
Readings: Is 61:1-2A, 10-11 / Lk 1:46-48, 49-50, 53-54 / 1 Thes 5:16-24 / Jn 1:6-8, 19-28
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

The Third Sunday of Advent is a time of preparation for the coming of the Lord.  The readings for this Sunday focus on the theme of joy.  Isaiah proclaims a message of good news and glad tidings.  Our second reading encourages us to rejoice always and to pray without ceasing.  Then John in the gospel tells us that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.

Advent is a time during which we prepare for the coming of the Lord.  He is coming to us sacramentally at Christmas.  He is coming to us individually at the end of our lives.  He is coming to us collectively at the end of time.

Now suppose we are told that the Christ whom we are waiting for is already here in our midst as one of us.  What difference would it make?  Here is a story of the enormous difference that the awareness of the presence of Christ among us could make in our lives as individuals and as communities.

A certain monastery discovered that it was going through a crisis.  Some of the monks left, no new candidates joined them, and people were no longer coming for prayer and consultation as they used to.  The few monks that remained were becoming old, depressed, and bitter in their relationship with one another.

The abbot heard about a holy man, a hermit living alone in the woods, and decided to consult him.  He told the hermit how the monastery had dwindled and diminished and looked like a skeleton of what it used to be.  Only seven old monks remained.  The hermit told the abbot that he had a secret for him.  The secret was that one of the monks presently living at the monastery was actually the Messiah, but that He was living in such a way that no one could recognize Him.

With this revelation, the abbot returned to the monastery, summoned a community meeting and recounted what the hermit had told him.  The aging monks looked at each other in disbelief, trying to discern who among them could be the Christ.  Could it be Brother Mark who prays all the time?  But he has this holier-than-thou attitude toward others.  Could it be Brother Joseph who is always ready to help?  But he’s always eating and drinking and cannot fast.

The abbot reminded them that the Messiah had adopted some bad habits as a way of camouflaging His true identity.  This only made them more confused and they could not make any headway in figuring out who was the Christ among them.  At the end of the meeting, what each one of the monks knew for sure was that any of the monks, excepting himself, could be the Christ.

From that day on, however, the monks began to treat one another with greater respect and humility, knowing that the person they were speaking to could be the very Christ.  They began to show more love for one another.  Their common life became more brotherly and their common prayer more fervent.  Slowly, people began to take notice of the new spirit in the monastery and began coming back for retreats and spiritual direction.  Word began to spread, and soon candidates began to show up. The monastery began to grow again in number as the monks grew in zeal and holiness.  All of this came about because a man of God drew their attention to the truth that Christ was living in their midst as one of them.

In today’s gospel, John the Baptist tries to announce the same powerful message to the Jews of his time who were anxiously waiting for the coming of the Messiah.  John tells them, “Among you stands one whom you do not know, the one who is coming after me.  I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.”

The reason why today we would not be able to recognize Jesus as our Lord and Messiah is because, like the Jews in Jesus’ time, we have definite ideas about how the Messiah is going to come.  For the Jews, the Messiah would suddenly descend from heaven in His divine power and majesty and establish His reign by destroying the enemies of Israel.  No one would know where He came from, humanly speaking, because He came from God (John 7:27).  When finally, Jesus came, born of a woman like every other person, they could not recognize Him.  He was too ordinary and unimpressive.

Since then, God has continually reached out toward us, but we resist His coming by hiding in layers of distractions.  Christ wants to speak to us in the silence of prayer, but we drown His voice with noise from televisions and cell phones.  Christ wants to talk to us through His words.  Hearing God’s word on Sundays is not like listening to a TV recording being played.  When God’s word is proclaimed, it enlightens our minds on what to do.  It challenges us and tests our wills and moves and inspires our hearts.

He comes in the sacraments, especially in those of the Eucharist and Confession.  As Christians, we may recognize the Lord in the Blessed Sacrament, in the Eucharist and the other sacraments.  We may also recognize Him in our fellow human beings, especially among the poor, the marginalized, those who have no voice in society.  Jesus said, “Whatever you do to the least of my brethren, you did this to Me.”

There are other ways in which God comes to our lives.  The list includes events, both good and bad, people we encounter daily, the beauty of nature, books, plays, and movies that have cultural and Christian values.  The season of Advent is a time for us to get in tune with all of the ways in which Christ comes, so that when He comes at Christmas, we will be ready to recognize Him, regardless of the form in which He chooses to appear.

As Angelus Silesius said, “Do not seek God in outer space. Your heart is the only place in which to meet Him face to face.”  This Sunday we are called to prepare our hearts for the coming of the Lord.  We can do this by living in joy, by praying without ceasing, and by reflecting on the mystery of the incarnation.  As we prepare for the Lord, let us also remember those who are in need.  We can show our love for our neighbors by reaching out to those who are suffering and by working to create a more just and compassionate world.

Preparing the Way

Second Sunday of Advent
December 10, 2023 — Year B
Readings: Is 40:1-5, 9-11 / Ps 85 / 2 Pt 3:8-14 / Mk 1:1-8
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

In the gentle glow of the second Advent candle, we find ourselves journeying through the scriptures of the Second Sunday of Advent.  The readings, like a compass, guide us through the wilderness of anticipation, urging us to prepare the way for the Lord.  The image of John the Baptist emerges prominently – a voice crying out in the wilderness, urging us to make straight the path for the arrival of the Messiah.  It is a powerful metaphor, reminding us that the preparation for Christ’s coming often occurs in the rugged terrains of our lives, the places we may overlook or avoid.

A story is told about a school principal who called the house of one of his teachers to find out why he was not at school.  He was greeted by a small child who whispered, “Hello?”

“Is your daddy home?” asked the principal.

“Yes,” answered the whispering child.

“May I talk with him?” the man asked.

“No,” replied the small voice.

“Is your mommy there?” he asked.

“Yes,” came the answer.

“May I talk with her?”

Again, the small voice whispered, “No.”

“All right,” said the man.  “Is there anyone there besides you?”

“Yes,” whispered the child, “a policeman.”

“A policeman?  Well, may I speak with the policeman?”

“No, he’s busy,” whispered the child.

“Busy doing what?” asked the principal.

“Talking to daddy and mommy and the fireman,” came the child’s answer.

“The fireman?  Has there been a fire in the house or something?” asked the worried man.

“No,” whispered the child.

“Then what are the police and the fireman doing there?”

Still whispering, the young voice replied with a soft giggle, “They are looking for me.”

Poor fireman and policeman.

It would be pretty hard for rescuers to find this child as long as the child keeps hiding from them.  In today’s gospel we see John the Baptist in the desert, calling the people of Judea to come out into the open desert and let God find them.  You can liken it to the fireman calling out to the lost child.  The child has to leave his hiding place and come out into the open for the fireman to find him.

To go into the desert is to leave behind the normal props of life on which we tend to depend.  Such life props we often find in our jobs, in our relationships, and in our routine religious practices.  God can’t do much with us as long as we hope and trust in these things as the first things that give meaning to our lives.  When the heart is full, no one can come into it, not even God.  You have first to let go of what your heart is holding onto before you can embrace God.

In today’s reading from Peter, we hear that Jesus’ second coming is still being delayed because He does not want to lose any of us.  He is giving us more time to repent and prepare.  He’s calling us to metanoia, to a complete change in our lives.

All of us have experienced someone telling us how to change our lives.  Most likely it was our parents.  This call to change our lives may be the only one that some of us have ever heard.  Someone may announce, discuss, and invite people to think about a new way of life saying, “I want you to do what I told you to do.”

But then there was Jesus’ approach.  Jesus comes along and doesn’t simply discuss it.  He is it.  Jesus is the experience of the transformation that we all need.

In today’s readings, we also notice that Mark is the only evangelist who introduces the word gospel in his opening statement, “The beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”  The word gospel means people – God’s people as they manifest the glad tidings of the Lord’s presence in their midst, or as they become the instruments of God’s redemptive presence toward others.

Advent is given to us in order that Jesus may be manifest in our midst.  We are to become the heralds of glad tidings, which is the gospel.

The gospel is Jesus Christ.  John the Baptist in the message today is preparing the way for Jesus’ presence in our midst.  Jesus is the gospel.  Perhaps a more correct translation would be:  The Beginning of the Gospel which is Jesus Christ, the Son of God.  Gospel is people, manifesting God as Savior, intervening as God’s instrument in the work of salvation toward others.

In the gospel message today, John the Baptist tells us that Jesus is coming, and when He comes, He will baptize us with the Holy Spirit.  Each of us is called to be the beginning of the gospel for others, to tell the good news in a way that makes us a messenger for the One who is coming.  As Christians, we have the role of preparing the way of the Lord, and John the Baptist is our model.  Mark’s gospel is but the beginning of a story that continues down to our time.  It started with John the Baptist.  Today it continues with us.  He prepared others for the coming of the Lord.  We must do the same.

Before we help to prepare others, we must acknowledge our own sins and seek forgiveness.  We must be renewed so that nothing impedes our walk with Jesus.  We must examine our inner sins, those that go beyond the ten commandments.

We must prepare as a people, because we tend to overly individualize our relationship with God.  Advent is something we do together.  We dream, repent, turn our faces toward God together.  In the season of Advent, the church extends to us the call of John the Baptist to repent and confess our sins in preparation for the One who is to come.  It is an opportunity to re-discover our total dependence on God.  God has made us for himself, as Saint Augustine confessed, and our hearts are restless until they rest in God.  When we realize this and make room for God in our lives, then we are on our way to true repentance, after the example of John the Baptist.

As we continue our Advent journey, may the light of the candles guide us through the darkness, reminding us that our preparation and anticipation are not in vain.  The lessons of Advent are not confined to a season. They are a timeless call to keep the flame of hope alive in our hearts, ready to shine brightly, even in the unexpected moments that await us.

Perfect Surrender

Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary
December 8, 2023 — Year B
Readings: Gn 3:9-15, 20 / Ps 98 / Eph 1:3-6, 11-12 / Lk 1:26-38
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

A preacher once said, “Saying yes to God does not mean perfect performance.  Rather, it means perfect surrender to the Lord, day by day.”  Today, as we celebrate the feast of the Immaculate Conception, perhaps it is a good time to reflect on whom we are going to follow:  Adam, who in our first reading said no to God, or Mary, who in our gospel reading said yes to God.

Today, in our first reading, we hear the Lord call to Adam, saying, “Where are you?”  Adam replies, “I hid myself.”  In our gospel, we also hear Mary, whose response to the angel’s prophecy of her Son was, “I am the handmaid of the Lord.  May it be done to me according to your word.”

In a homily many years ago, Pope Francis said, “’Here I am’ is the opposite of ‘I hid myself.’  ‘Here I am’ opens one to God, while sin closes, isolates, and causes one to be alone with oneself.”

The words of Mary today are full of wisdom.  We should use these words every time we pray to the Lord each morning.  If we say to the Lord, “Here am I, your servant,” like Mary with all sincerity, that shows humility within us. These words would show that we are willing to do what God asks us to do for the rest of our day.  This is an act of humility because a person who is open to the will of God is a person who recognizes that God will continue to work in his life no matter what happens along the way.   Mary is our example in this.  Mary experienced many difficulties, especially witnessing the suffering of her son.  She was able to endure everything because she knew very well that God was with Him, blessing Him, giving Him the grace that He needed in order to survive any challenges in life.

Some people, however, do not love or respect the Lord and are not willing to admit that they are God’s servants.  They think that they can live without God.  These are the people who are proud, because they do not want to be told what rules to follow, such as the commandments.   For them, the ten commandments are a hindrance to their happiness.  They think they want to be independent.  If they are independent without any moral guide to follow, then their only guide is their own personal desires and cravings in life.  That’s what they follow.  People without a moral guide, or no God, are guided only by their desires.  If they like to eat, they do that, if they get angry, they hurt people. They are not much better than animals.

Christians have a moral guide, a guide that does not curtail our freedom, but rather gives us freedom.   The more we follow this moral guide, the more it makes us realize the true meaning of what we are doing.  It will make us realize the meaning of our existence in life.

Sin puts us away from the grace of God.  It isolates us, as Pope Francis says.  It causes us to be alone with oneself.  Every time we fall into sin, we feel like Adam who hid himself.  Every time we fall into sin, we have no face to show in front of the Lord.  That’s the normal feeling brought about by sin.  That is why we should always remember that the Lord is willing to search for us when we lose our way by sinning.  Every time we fall into sin, God always searches for us.  He will always claim us as His own.  God will tell us, “You are mine.  I created you.  I made you.  I made you to be good.  When you go astray, I have to look for you.”  We sinners should not continue hiding ourselves as Adam did.  We should get out and show ourselves with all humility before the Lord.  We must say to the Lord, “I’m sorry.  I want to start over.”  There is no sin that God cannot forgive.

Nothing is impossible with God, as the angel said to Mary.  God can take the most evil thing in the world and make it holy.  One example of something evil that God made holy is the cross.  Before they hung Jesus on that cross, a cross was a symbol of shame, a symbol of death, a symbol of defeat, embarrassment, and everything negative.  But after they hung Jesus on the cross, the cross became holy, a source of life, a symbol of salvation, a symbol of power.  That’s how powerful God is.  God can take the most impossible thing and make it possible.  There are many examples of this in scripture.  Today’s gospel provides the example of what happened to Mary.  How could she conceive?  Mary asked the angel, and the angel told her nothing is impossible with God.

We should not be afraid.  We should strive our best to offer our whole life to the Lord. Every time we fall into sin, we should remember what Saint Paul says, “Where sin abounds, grace abounds all the more.”  Ask the Lord’s forgiveness.  Go to confession and start all over again.  Never give up in following the Lord.  One day, the Lord will show us how He has prepared us for the place He has made ready for all His faithful followers.  Let us not forget that saying yes to God does not mean perfect performance, rather it means perfect surrender to the Lord day by day.

Be Watchful. Be Alert.

First Sunday of Advent
December 3, 2023 — Year B
Readings: Is 63:16B-17, 19B; 64:2-7 / Ps 80 / 1 Cor 1:3-9 / Mk 13:33-37
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Advent is a unique time in the liturgical calendar. It is a sacred time set aside for us to journey in faith with the Church as she prepares to celebrate the birth of Christ. In these weeks, as we look deeper into our hearts and into the heart of our Faith, we may experience a mixture of conflicting emotions: joy and sorrow; hope and fear; thanksgiving and remorse; anticipation and dread.

The readings on this Sunday, the first Sunday of Advent, stir up many such thoughts and feelings. The gospel today gives us strong and somewhat alarming words from Jesus: “Be watchful. Be alert. You do not know when the time will come.”

We know that the Lord is coming, but we do not know the time. This can make us uncomfortable. We do not want to be caught off guard or unprepared for what we know is coming. We may even feel some anxiety about what we anticipate. On the other hand, we are also quite capable of putting things out of our minds. We know what will come, but we simply do not think about it. We get lulled into complacency, procrastination, or distraction. With His strong words Jesus jolts us out of our complacency by reminding us that He may come at any time, so we need to be constantly vigilant.

There is a story about a man named John, who was always waiting for something. He was waiting for the right time to start his business. He was waiting for the right person to marry. And he was waiting for the right moment to retire.

One day, John was talking to his friend, Anna, about his waiting. Anna listened patiently, and then she said, “You know, John, you’re always waiting for something, but what if you just started living your life now? What if you stopped waiting for the perfect moment and just started doing what you wanted to do?”

John thought about what Anna said, and he realized that she was right. He had been waiting for so long that he had forgotten what it was like to live in the present moment. John decided to start living his life now. He started his business; he married Anna; and he retired when he was ready. He was happy that he had finally stopped waiting and started living.

The lesson of this story is that we should not wait for the perfect moment to start living our lives. We should start living now, and we should enjoy the journey.

The gospel reading for this Sunday is Mark 13:33-37. In this passage, Jesus tells His disciples to be watchful and alert, because they do not know when the Son of Man will come. This is a reminder to us that we should always be prepared for the coming of the Lord. We should live our lives in such a way that we are ready to meet Him at any time. We should not wait for the perfect moment to start living our lives. We should start living now, and we should enjoy the journey. And we should always be prepared for the coming of the Lord.

Jesus entrusts us with His gifts and grace, and He expects us to be ready for action and prepared for the future. Our call is not only to believe, but to watch; not only to love, but to watch; not only to obey, but to watch.

What are we to watch for? The greatest event to come is the Second Coming of Jesus at the end of time, but the kind of watching Our Lord has in mind is not a passive or “wait and see what happens” approach to life. The Lord urges us to be vigilant and to pray actively. One way to be prepared for the coming of the Lord is to live our lives in a state of grace. This means that we should be free from sin and in a state of communion with God. We can achieve this by confessing our sins regularly and receiving the Eucharist.

Another way to be prepared for the coming of the Lord is to live our lives in a way that is pleasing to Him. This means that we should live according to His commandments and strive to do good in the world.

We should also be watchful and alert for the signs of the times. These signs include the increasing violence and hatred in the world; the environmental crisis; and the growing number of people who are suffering. When we see these signs, we should be reminded that the end times are near and that we should be prepared for the coming of the Lord.

We should not be afraid of the coming of the Lord. Instead, we should rejoice, for He is the one who will save us from sin and death.

While we wait, we have work to do. Like the man who put his servants in charge of his house, Jesus puts us in charge of His house, which is both the Church and the world. We all have something to do in preparation for His return, as He has left each with his own work. Jesus makes it clear that His message is not only for the apostles but for all of us. “What I say to you I say to all: Watch.”

St. Paul, in the second reading, reminds us that our readiness for the Lord is not something we accomplish, but a gift of grace that we are to welcome. We do not need to fear the Lord’s coming, for although we are sinners, we have been enriched in every way. Thus, we can rejoice in anticipation of the Lord’s return. As St. Paul says with great confidence, “You are not lacking in any spiritual gift as you wait for the revelation of Our Lord Jesus Christ.”

As we begin the holy season of Advent, we are not relying on our own human strength, but on His divine strength. He will keep you firm to the end, irreproachable on the day of the Lord Jesus Christ. Christ Himself is the source of our hope and joy.

And so, as we continue to celebrate our Mass, let us pray that we will always be prepared for the coming of the Lord. May we live our lives in a state of grace in a way that is pleasing to Him, and watchful and alert for the signs of the times.

May Jesus Christ be praised.

Charity Does Not Sin

The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe
November 26, 2023 — Year A
Readings: Ez 34:11-12, 15-17 / Ps 23 / 1 Cor 15:20-26, 28 / Mt 25:31-46
by Rev. Mr. Mark De La Hunt, Permanent Deacon

Here, on the doorstep of the season of Advent, we pause and meditate on the solemnity of “Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe.” He has absolute sovereignty over all creation, for He created it.  And yet, in four weeks we enter the mystery of His becoming man, born in a stable, no crib for a bed, His dad a blue-collar worker and His mom a teenage girl.  From now until Christmas, we walk from today’s discomfort at the foot of His judgment seat to the joy and peace of His manger in Bethlehem. These are the poles of our spiritual journey and the religious road between them is called Advent.

I encourage you to make a resolution for Advent that will be your gift for Jesus at Christmas. Consider making a different holy resolution each day or week of Advent.  One I recommend is to find a quiet time to listen to St. Mother Teresa’s Nobel Peace Prize acceptance speech on YouTube and ponder it in prayer. Hearing the voice of a great saint is a precious gift.

I listened to her speech early one morning, and it cast a familiar Bible verse in a different light for me. In morning prayer that day, I read this beatitude: “Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God (Mt 5:8).”  I always interpreted this as meaning something along the lines of, “If you live a holy life with Jesus, you will go to heaven and see God.” In her speech Mother Teresa shared stories of the poor in an intimate and tender way, and as I listened, that beatitude led me from the foot of Jesus’ judgment seat to the side of His manger. You might say I had an epiphany.

We will come back to Mother Teresa’s speech in a bit, but now let’s meditate on the scriptures.  Just as there is a dichotomy between Christ King of the Universe and Christ in a manger, there is one between the Old Testament readings where Jesus is a good shepherd and the last two where He is a king and judge (Kreeft 778).  How are they connected? As our shepherd, He leads us in how to live for the day we will be judged.

In Ezekiel 34, God says, “I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep…I will seek the lost, bind up the crippled, and I will strengthen the weak (Ez 34:16).” Jesus is judge, but He does not sit back and wait for us to succeed or to fail, relishing the day He will judge us. On the contrary, in Psalm 23 He says He will “lead [us] in paths of righteousness (3).”  Why? In the verse before that He says He desires to “lead [us] beside still waters, [to] restore [our] soul (Ps 23:2).” One could say that He leads us in how to do good things that restore our soul for our day of judgment, but how is that related to still waters?

Ever look at a pond or lake in the stillness of the early morning, when the water is perfectly flat? It acts as a mirror, reflecting the trees and the sky, and somehow that reflection is more beautiful to us than if we simply looked directly at the trees and sky. So it is when He “restores our soul.” When we take up our cross and follow Him, loving our neighbor, we are at peace, and He restores our soul. It is then that our restored soul becomes like still waters, reflecting Jesus’ love. Others can read about His love directly, but it is more impactful when they see it reflected in us.

Leaving the comfort of the first reading and psalm, we move to the discomfort of the second reading: “Then comes the end, when He delivers the kingdom to God the Father after destroying every rule and every authority and power…until He has put all His enemies under His feet (1 Cor 15:24-25).”  Who is under His feet?  His enemies, yes, but in today’s gospel we are; everyone is.

In the gospel He is sitting up high on His throne which is also the judgment seat (Mt 25:31-32).  He moves one hand and many are moved to His left. He moves His other hand and some are moved to His right (Mt 15:33).  Those on the right to eternal life in the kingdom prepared for them and those on the left to eternal punishment (Mt 15:34, 46).

How will He judge us? If there is a judge, then there must be a law to judge by. Jesus said, “I give you a new commandment; love one another (Jn 13:34).”  May God have mercy on those who say we do not need works to get into heaven and then cherry pick verses, out of context, to support their wishful thinking. St. Paul called Jesus’ new commandment a law writing “…love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law (Rom 13:8).” Jesus gives us the consequences of breaking that law. In Matthew 7 He said, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven (21-23).”

Those words made some uncomfortable, so they tried to negotiate with the King of the Universe. Here is how that went. “Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in Your name? Did we not drive out demons in Your name? Did we not do mighty deeds (miracles) in Your name?” Jesus responded, “I never knew you. Depart from me, you evildoers (Mt 7:22-23).”  Prophecies, exorcisms, and miracles are all good things, and God allows even sinners to perform them, for they are good for His people. But if one does those things without love for their neighbor, then doing those things does not fulfill the law.

That leads us to today’s gospel, which is the conclusion of several Sundays of warnings from Jesus about the end of time. The last two weeks we heard about the virgins running out oil for their lamps and being locked out of the wedding banquet. And about the servant who did not give his master a return on his talents and so was cast out into darkness weeping (Mt 25:1-30).  Jesus saved the most disturbing warning for last. Disturbing, because He spells it out for us today. He clarifies what the symbolism was for the oil in the virgins’ lamps and the servants’ talents.  He points out those ever so serious sins that lie hidden in our conscience like a copperhead snake amidst some leaves.

The sins I speak of lead us to another good Advent resolution.  Examine our conscience for sins of omission, those acts of love we failed to do. Jesus gives us an examination of conscience in today’s gospel. “When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you (Mt 25:38-39)?”  And the King of the Universe replied, “Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me (40).”

A good examination of conscience is free of excuses. Excuses did not work well for the miracle workers who were without love. Here are some questions you can turn into Advent resolutions. Have I introduced myself to a new parishioner or to a new neighbor and welcomed them? Have I gathered up the extra coats, shoes, and clothes in my home and given them away?  Have I helped feed the hungry? Is prison ministry on my heart, and if so, how can I act on it?  Could you bring your children or a friend to visit a nursing home?  Is there someone who is sick that you can go and pray with or help with their chores that are going undone?

If you are still feeling comfortable because judgment day sounds so far off, then listen to these somber words from the Church.

“The New Testament speaks of judgment primarily in its aspect of the final encounter with Christ in His second coming, but also repeatedly affirms that each will be rewarded immediately after death in accordance with his works and faith. The parable of the poor man Lazarus and the words of Christ on the cross to the good thief, as well as other New Testament texts speak of a final destiny of the soul—a destiny which can be different for some and for others (CCC 1021).”

“Each man receives his eternal retribution in his immortal soul at the very moment of his death, in a particular judgment that refers his life to Christ [King of the Universe]: either entrance into the blessedness of heaven — through a purification or immediately — or immediate and everlasting damnation (CCC 1022).”

So when will you die? I have been surprised at how many of my high school classmates I have outlived. They were so much healthier than me. Our particular judgment can come at any time. In the first verse of the gospel next week, Jesus says, “Be watchful! Be alert! You do not know when the time will come (Mk 13:33).”

Now we are in the proper frame of mind to turn to Mother Teresa for guidance and hope. In her Nobel prize acceptance speech, her stories of seeing extraordinary goodness in the poor shed new light on Jesus’ words, “Blessed are the pure of heart, for they will see God.”  What does “pure of heart” mean? St. Angela Merci kept the answer simple, “Charity does not sin.”  When, with love, I welcome the stranger and visit the sick, my heart is pure in that moment. It is free of sin.

My epiphany while listening to Mother Teresa’s stories of the poor was that, when I am lovingly caring for the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick and the imprisoned, I am pure of heart and I…see…God.  I see the person, but in them the King of the Universe is looking back at me.  And in that sacred moment, I travel the Advent road from Jesus’ judgment seat in heaven to the manger in Bethlehem where our King joins us in all our suffering.

Have mercy on us, oh King of the Universe, and send us Your Spirit to lead us from the fear of Your judgment seat to the hope of Your manger. Amen.

CITATIONS

Kreeft, Peter. “Food for the Soul; Reflections on the Mass Readings, Cycle A.” Word on Fire 2022.

Mother Teresa. Nobel Peace Prize Acceptance Speech. YouTube.

Catholic Church. “Catechism of the Catholic Church.” 2nd ed., Our Sunday Visitor, 2000.

Serve God With Your Gifts

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
November 19, 2023 — Year A
Readings: Prv 31:10-13, 19-20, 30-31 / Ps 128 / 1 Thes 5:1-6 / Mt 25:14-30
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

There was a story of a Chinese boy who came from a very poor family in Hong Kong and never dreamed that he would go far. His parents left him behind to do some housekeeping and construction in Australia. Gifted with talents and skills for doing stunts and acrobatics, he developed and cashed in on this until he rose to become a famous movie actor, multimillionaire, and Asian superstar, that is Jackie Chan.

Brothers and sisters, we are given different talents by the Lord. For example, some of us are good at singing, dancing, and talking. Some are good at the arts, mathematics, sciences, and others. And sometimes our talents are very unique. All of us have talent. We cannot say, “I don’t have talent. I don’t know how to sing. I don’t know how to dance,” and so on and so forth.

The Church continues to reflect about the end of the world and the end of our lives. Last Sunday we were asked to reflect on the ten virgins, five wise and five foolish, and we were taught to be ready to meet the Lord. Next Sunday, we will celebrate the Solemnity of Christ the King, which opens the last week of the liturgical year of the Church. Today’s gospel points out through the parable of the talents the difference between being ready and being unready when the Lord returns to settle accounts with us.

Jesus gives us a parable that the Kingdom of God is like a man traveling to a faraway land and calling his three servants to take care of some of his possessions. One servant has great ability, and so he gives this servant five talents. The second has average ability and he is given two talents, while the third has little ability because he was just given one talent. The first two servants immediately made their talents work and doubled the number of talents the master gave them, but the servant who received only one talent buried it because of the fear that he may lose it.

When the master returned, the first two servants who made their talents work reported what they did with the money, and the master was very happy with them, and he gave what the two servants earned to them. But when the last servant told him that he was afraid to lose the money and buried it, the master became angry. He gave the one talent to the servant who earned ten talents.

Brothers and sisters, most of us think of a talent as some kind of special ability, gift, or skill. In Jesus’ time a talent was a measure of money. We can understand the talents in today’s gospel as symbols of any of the gifts God has given to us, especially our faith, and we use these gifts to build His Kingdom.

Everyone has received something from God. Life itself is a talent. Time is a talent. Treasure is a talent. They are all talents we have to invest. Knowing that Jesus was describing servants being given huge amount of cash to invest helps us to understand just how generous the master was being and the opportunity each servant was given. The greatest gift God has given to us is the gift of Himself. The talents represent more than just the monetary resources God gives us.

Remember, this is a parable and all of Jesus’ parables are about a bit more than they seem. This parable is paired with the parable of the ten virgins who made the mistake of not having enough oil when the bridegroom arrives. It is also preceded by a story about a servant not using his position well while the master is away. All three stories are about being given something which must be used well and the consequences of neglecting or abusing it. In short, the talents represent what God has given us; our monetary resources, our callings to positions within the Church that can be found in Ephesians 4:11-16, our natural gifts. Each of these things and many others are given by God to use in ways that glorify Him and draw others toward Him.

There is a famous saying in the movie Chariots of Fire, where future Olympian Eric Liddell feels a tension between his chance to be an Olympic runner and his calling be a missionary in China. Eventually he tells his sister he will go to the Olympics and then to the mission field because both honor God. “God made me for a purpose, for China,” Liddell says, “but He also made me fast, and when I run, I feel His pleasure. To give that up would be to hold Him in contempt.” In the end all talents are given by God to glorify Him.

The Bible makes it clear, there is no sacred versus secular world in the way we often think. Yes, there are official positions for certain church tasks; preaching, evangelizing, teaching, etc., and Christians should not be molded by worldly standards. However, all creation was made very good, and we must do all things to God’s glory. So, whatever we are doing, provided it is not a sinful activity, we serve God well by doing it well. As Dorothy Sayers put it in her essay, Why You Work: “If we follow God properly, all the work will be Christian work, whether it is Church embroidery or sewage farming.”

The Bible makes it clear that we don’t really own our gifts. We are fearfully and wonderfully made by God according to plans He laid out before we were born to glorify Him forever. The fact that the master owns the money he gave the servants, and he gets the results of their investments highlights who is in control.

We naturally want to believe we can use our gifts as we please. If we grew up in cultures where the individual is primary, we also tend to think we can live as we please. However, if we all want to be little gods of our own lives, serving ourselves, we miss our true place in life. We find our true joy and place in life when we serve God with our gifts. Jesus uses the parable of the talents to help us understand our calling as Christians and our responsibility to use what God has given us to bring Him glory and honor.

We have the most valuable gift of all, the Word of God and the saving Gospel of Jesus Christ. This gift is for us to share with others through our words and actions. It is a great responsibility with great reward, as described in the parable of the talents. The parable of the talents should encourage us and challenge us to take what God has given us and invest in the Kingdom of God. There is a great reward waiting for those who steward well with what the Lord has given them. May Jesus Christ be praised.

Radiate the Light

Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time
November 12, 2023 — Year A
Readings: Wis 6:12-16 / Ps 63 / 1 Thes 4:13-18 / Mt 25:1-13
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Today’s holy gospel is taken from a discourse about the end of the world and the final judgement.  The point of today’s gospel story is that we should always be prepared for the end of our lives.  None of us knows the day or the hour when we will appear in judgement before the Lord.

There was a story about a sparrow who overheard from a squirrel up a tree that the sky was falling.  Greatly disturbed by that news, the sparrow flew from its comfortable nest to spread the news.  The cow, the dogs, the cats, and all the members of the animal kingdom were simply doubtful.  They dismissed the sparrow’s tale as purely hearsay and therefore untrue.  Finally, dejected and frustrated, and convinced that the animals would not cooperate, the sparrow lay on its back and started to raise its legs up toward the sky.

A wise man happened to be passing by and, seeing the creature in an unusual stance, inquired, “My little friend, what’s wrong with you?”

The sparrow replied, “Oh, dear sir, haven’t you heard that the sky is falling?  I am here to support the weight of the sky, should it fall.”

The wise man could not help but smile and say, “But with your frail body, how could you possibly support the sky?”

“We do what we can.  We do what we can,” said the sparrow.

Most of the time, we are like the dog, the cow, the cat, and the rest of the animals in the story, who are doubtful and do not want to respond to the needs and the signs of the times.  When somebody tells us, “Let us go to Mass,” we would respond, “I don’t have any sin.  Just go there and pray for me.”  We don’t want to be disturbed.  We want to be on our own.  We are unconcerned and unresponsive when somebody needs our help.  Today’s first reading and the gospel both teach that we must have wisdom and prudence to be prepared for the Lord’s coming at the end of our lives.

As we get close to the end of the Church’s liturgical year, we concentrate on the end of things.  That is why we consider if we are ready for the end of our lives, the end of the world, and the final judgement.  Nature itself reminds us of the end of things.  During the fall season, we see leaves fall from the trees, and it teaches us that someday we, too, will have an end to our life.  The grass dies off and the flowers no longer bloom as nature teaches us a great lesson each fall.  Someday we too shall die.

Our Blessed Savior wants us to get to heaven, so He’s instructing us today to be vigilant, to be ready, to be wise, and be prudent.  In today’s gospel story, the task of the bridesmaids was to lead the way with light through the narrow and dark streets of the city.  There were no street lamps in those days, and it was pitch dark at night.  We may presume that the bridesmaids prepared for the wedding over a significant period of time.  They probably made new dresses, new shoes, had their hair done, and so forth.  The foolish bridesmaids failed in the one task for which they were required.  The foolish virgins were not prepared to light the way for the groom.

We do not know too much about ancient marriages, but according to Joachim Jeremiah, in his book entitled The Parables of Jesus, published in 1972, one thing seems to be sure:  The highlight of the marriage is the nocturnal entry of the bridegroom into the paternal house where the marriage takes place, followed by the festival banquet.  The task of the bridegroom was to fetch the bride in her home, and then the procession would go to the house of the father of the groom.  The task of the bridesmaids is to carry torches and light the way, and to give everything and everybody a very festive mood.

So now the question is:  What is our task in this life?  Did not God create us to know Him, to love Him, and to be happy with Him in this life and the next?  Are we attending to the purpose for which we were created?  Are we prepared for the task at hand?  Or are we like the foolish virgins?  Now is the time for us to make necessary changes to our lives.  Now is our one chance, perhaps, to obtain sufficient oil for the lamps of our souls, so that we will be able to complete the task that God has given us in our life.

When we were baptized, we received a baptismal candle.  The celebrant, priest, or deacon, said to us, “Receive the light of Christ, parents and godparents.  This light is entrusted to you to be kept burning brightly.  These children of yours have been enlightened by Christ.  They are to walk always as children of the light.  May they keep the flame of faith alive in their hearts.  When the Lord comes, may they go out to meet Him with all the saints in the heavenly kingdom.”

Are we ready to go out to meet Jesus at the end of our lives?

Now that we are responsible adults, is Jesus the light of the world through us?  The light of Christ that we receive in Baptism is to shine before others by the way we live our daily lives.  To accomplish all the things that God wants of us, it is necessary for us to worship at Mass every week.  The Mass is the most perfect and most powerful prayer that there is.  In every Mass, Jesus offers Himself through us to the Father.  By attending Mass regularly, we will grow and be holy.  Each time we have the privilege of receiving Holy Communion, something awesome takes place in our soul.  We become what we eat.  We become more like Christ.  Jesus living in us will continue to shed His gentle light to those among whom we live.  We will come to know and love Him more deeply.

Sometimes we ask, is Matthew’s message to his fellow Christians still relevant to the Christians of our time?  Very much so.  As we draw close to the end of the Liturgical Year, the Church, through the Gospel, invites us to contemplate the end:  the end of our lives, and the end of the world.  The way to prepare for the end is not to live in fear and anxiety, or to go after prophets and visionaries that claim to have access to God’s secret calendar of how and when the world will end.  Jesus told us that the Son of Man would come back on the last day to judge the living and the dead.  How and when will that be?  We do not know for sure.

How then is the wise Christian to prepare for the end times?  Today’s parable gives us the answer.  The best way to prepare for the end is to follow the example of those wise virgins; the wise virgins who took oil to keep their lamps burning.  In the same way, we should engage and persevere in good works to keep our faith alive.  That is the best way to make ourselves ready and prepared for the Lord, no matter when the Lord chooses to come.

So, in this holy Mass, let us beg Jesus to help us change our lives, so that we, too, will radiate the light of Christ in our world and be prepared for His coming.

Servant Leaders

Thirty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time
November 5, 2023 — Year A
Readings: Mal 1:14b-2:2b, 8-10 / Ps 131 / 1 Thes 2:7b-9, 13 / Mt 23:1-12
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

One of the criticisms directed at Catholics by our Protestant fundamentalist brethren, especially the born-again Christian groups, is about the address we give to the Pope as “Holy Father” and also to all priests as “Father.”  They say that this is against the teaching of Christ in the Bible.  They cite today’s gospel reading, especially verse nine that says, “Call no one on earth your father; you have but one Father in heaven.”

If we follow this kind of interpretation, it is an absurd one.  If taken literally, the word would forbid us to call our natural father, “father.”  How would a father feel if his children did not address him as Father, Dad, Papa, or Daddy?  Instead, his children would be forced to use his given name.  Would he agree to this?  Surely not.  He may even scold or get angry with them.  Along these same lines, how are we to address our schoolteachers if there is only one teacher?

What Christ wants to teach us is that our concern should not be for honors, worldly dignity, and a craving for first places in gatherings.  If we extend our helping hands to others in need, we should not be proud that it is coming from us, but rather, we should announce that it is coming from God.  We are just doing our job and should not expect any return.

In today’s gospel, Jesus affirms the Pharisees and scribes as legitimate leaders of people following Moses.  He tells His disciples to obey and respect them, but not to follow their example.  What they say is true, so follow them, but in practice, they are misusing their authority for the sake of their selfish advantage, so do not imitate their example.

Why does Jesus forbid His disciples to use the titles of “father” and “teacher”? Even Saint Paul referred to himself as the Father of the Corinthians, in 1 Corinthians 4:15. Is it because this can be abused and misused?  It is in the abuse sense that these titles are forbidden from being used.  Many use their titles, positions in organizations and government, and honors, to threaten, look down on, exploit, deprive, and oppress other people.

The message of today’s gospel is a clear warning to all who hold office and authority in God’s Church, whether as priests, bishops, or superiors.  This gospel also applies to all of us.  One such example is when parents use their authority as parents to justify what they are doing instead of listening to their child’s pleas.  For our government officials, corporate leaders, and to anyone that holds authority, many people say that authority is bad.  They say that power corrupts.  Every day we hear stories in the media about scandals among politicians, corporate heads, even in the Church, and among others who hold positions of authority.

Authority, however, is good because it comes from God.  God entrusts a share of His authority to men and women.  It is the abuse of authority that makes it a bad thing.  Just like money.  Money is good and is not the root of evil.  It becomes the root of evil when we begin to love it and make money our god.  Authority is entrusted to us by God, not to dominate and exploit others, but for service.  Leadership is service and should be by example.  It is service that matters.  If we want to become great human beings and outstanding Christians, then we must serve the rest.

Our service might take the form of meeting material and physical needs like washing or cooking meals for the family.  These are small things and often taken for granted, but in the eyes of God, the greatest performance we ever have.  Our service might take the form of caring for the emotional and psychological needs of others, like offering companionship and friendship when they are down, speaking words of hope and encouragement, showing acceptance and giving recognition.  Servanthood is not about position or skill.  It is about attitude.

We have undoubtedly met persons in service positions, like people in government organizations, church, and others, who have poor attitudes toward servanthood.  Just as we can sense when a worker doesn’t want to help people, we can just as easily detect when a leader has a servant’s heart.  The truth is that the best leaders desire to serve others, not themselves.

John C. Maxwell, in his book Leadership Promises for Every Day said, “The true servant leaders put others ahead of their own agenda, possess the confidence to serve, initiate service to others, are not position-conscious, and serve out of love.”  The call to leadership through service is not only addressed to clergy and to those who hold apostolic office in the Church and to those who hold positions.  All Christians are called to show leadership through service.

Those baptized people who do not seek to serve God and their fellow human beings cannot be Christians.  Each one of us has the responsibility to show the authenticity of the Christian message through our love and service.  For example, the best husband is the one who meets the needs of his wife most generously.  The good boss is the first one to do what he expects from his subordinates.  The concerned school principal who reports to school early, joins the teachers in being punctual for their duties.  The dedicated head of the office that attends to his tasks, inspires the other employees to work efficiently and effectively.  Thus the greatest among us must be the first to serve.

Even the Pope is reminded of this by his title, “Servant of Servants.”  If we know some Christian leaders who are as hypocritical as the scribes and Pharisees described in today’s gospel, the challenge for us would be to try to make a distinction between what they teach (which may be sound) and how they live (which may not be worthy of emulation.)  Those who distance themselves from the Church because they heard or saw unbecoming behavior of a Church leader may indeed be throwing out the baby with the bathwater.  We must not do this.  Abuse of an office does not nullify the validity of the office itself.

The gospel ends up with a call of evangelical humility which is recognition that in the eyes of God, everyone is equal.  It is the recognition that those who evangelize or minister to others, are not below us, but are in fact equal to us in the eyes of God.  With this humility, preaching becomes not talking down to the people, but sharing with them our common struggle to understand and live God’s word.