Faith, Compassion, and Healing

Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
June 30, 2024 — Year B
Readings: Wis 1:13-15; 2:23-24 / Ps 30 / 2 Cor 8:7, 9, 13-15 / Mk 5:21-43
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Our readings today collectively highlight God’s life-giving nature and His desire for us to live in fullness and health.

The Book of Wisdom tells us that God did not create death, and that all creation is wholesome. These foundational truths set the stage for understanding the miracles in the gospel reading. Jesus’ actions in healing the woman and raising Jairus’s daughter from death to life are manifestations of God’s will to restore life and wholeness. The readings also show Jesus’ immeasurable compassion.

In the first reading we are reminded that God did not create death, nor does He rejoice in the destruction of the living. God’s creation is fundamentally good and destined for immortality, reflecting His own nature. The passage underscores that death entered the world through the envy of the devil, highlighting the contrast between God’s life-giving nature and the destructive forces of evil.

The second reading, from Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians, emphasizes generosity and equality within the Christian community. Paul encourages the Corinthians to excel in the grace of giving, just as they excel in faith, speech, knowledge, and love. He points to the example of Jesus Christ who, though rich, became poor for our sake, so that through His poverty, we might become rich. Paul’s message is one of mutual support and sharing, ensuring that no one is in need while others have abundance.

Generosity doesn’t always have to involve money. In Father Mike Schmidt’s Catechism in a Year podcast, at Day 255, addresses how to engage in acts of solidarity and generosity beyond just giving money: spending time with those in need, listening to their stories, providing companionship. Sometimes a listening ear can be more valuable than money. We can also get involved with local charities or community organizations. Volunteering can address broader issues and provide structured support to those in need. Spiritual support can be powerful. Pray for those in need and let them know that we are praying for them. This can provide comfort and hope. By engaging in these actions, we can embody the true spirit of solidarity and generosity, providing meaningful support that goes beyond financial aid.

In the gospel, we encountered intertwined stories of Jairus’s daughter and the woman with a hemorrhage. These narratives highlight Jesus’ power over sickness and death and the transformative impact of faith and compassion.

When Jesus was carrying the cross, Veronica stood out for her unwavering compassion. As Jesus stumbled under the weight of the cross, bloodied and exhausted, Veronica pushed her way through the hostile crowd, and in a moment of pure, selfless love, she removed her veil and gently wiped the sweat and blood from his brow. To our amazement, the image of His sacred face was miraculously imprinted on the cloth. This act of kindness in the midst of such suffering was a testament to her deep faith and compassion. Veronica’s gesture, though small, had a profound impact. It was a beacon of humanity and love, shining brightly in the darkness of that day. Her bravery and empathy have inspired countless generations to show kindness, even in the face of adversity. Saint Veronica’s story reminds us that true compassion requires courage, and that even the smallest acts of love can leave a lasting impression, much like the image of Christ’s face on her veil. She’s celebrated not just for her miraculous cloak, but for the profound compassion that drove her to comfort Jesus in His hour of need.

In the gospel reading, the woman with a hemorrhage had suffered for twelve years, enduring much at the hands of many doctors and spending all she had. Despite her suffering, she clung to a glimmer of hope. She believed that simply touching Jesus’ cloth would heal her. Her faith, born out of desperation, propelled her to act. Jesus acknowledges her faith saying, “Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace and be healed of your disease” (Mk 5:34). This encounter underscores that, even in our darkest moments, faith can lead to healing and restoration. Some have also claimed that Saint Veronica is the same as the biblical woman who suffered from twelve years of hemorrhages. While these traditions and assertions cannot be proven, we do know that the bleeding woman displayed great faith in the Lord and was healed.

Meanwhile, Jairus, a synagogue leader, showed remarkable faith and patience. Despite being informed that his daughter had died, he trusted Jesus’ assurance, “Do not fear, only believe” (Mk 5:36). Jairus’s faith was tested by the delay caused by Jesus’ interaction with the woman, yet his belief remained steadfast. Jesus’ response to Jairus’s situation demonstrates that delays do not diminish divine power. God’s timing, though often mysterious, is always perfect. Jesus’ words to the girl, “Talitha koum, little girl, I say to you, get up” remind us of His authority over life and death.

Both stories intertwine to show how faith in Jesus connects and uplifts. The woman’s bold faith and Jairus’s patient faith exemplify different aspects of trusting in God. Their stories teach us that faith is not a one-size-fits-all experience, but a deeply personal journey. Whether we approach Jesus in desperation or impatience, what matters is the trust we place in Him.

Jesus’ actions highlight His boundless compassion. He stops to address the woman suffering despite being on a mission to save Jairus’s daughter. His willingness to be interrupted for the sake of showing love and mercy calls us to examine our own priorities and attitudes. Are we willing to pause and show compassion even when it disrupts our plans? We are challenged today to reflect on how we live out our faith and compassion in everyday life. Are we willing to reach out in faith like the woman? Or wait patiently, like Jairus, trusting in God’s timing? Are we generous with our resources, ensuring that our abundance helps those in need? These stories of healing and restoration challenge us to trust in Jesus’ power to transform our lives and situations.

The exhortation to generosity in the second reading calls us to act with compassion, ensuring that we support and uplift one another. In our lives we might face situations where our faith is tested, and where the needs of others intersect with our own journeys. Let us remember that Jesus’ power to heal and restore is ever present. As we navigate our faith journeys, we will draw strength from the examples of the woman and Jairus, trusting in Jesus and showing compassion to those around us.

May Jesus Christ be praised, now and forever.

Right on Time

Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time
June 23, 2024 — Year B
Readings: Jb 38:1, 8-11 / Ps 107 / 2 Cor 5:14-17 / Mk 4:35-41
by Rev. Louis Benoit, Guest Celebrant

Today’s gospel has a few meanings.  One meaning is that Jesus is the fulfillment of God in the Old Testament. In the Old Testament, especially in the book of Psalms, like the psalm we just heard, we hear how God is over all creation and over the storms and the winds, with God having domination over all those things.  So, we see Jesus fulfilling these Old Testament aspects of God, being creator and domineering over all.

Also, at the beginning of Mark’s gospel, we are told who Jesus is.  However, for Jesus’ followers, that gradually unfolds as the gospel goes on.  As they see Jesus doing various things, it deepens their faith in who Jesus is.

And so, we have, at the last line of today’s gospel, “Who then is this, whom even the wind and sea obey?”  It’s the deeper knowledge of who Jesus is, as they come to a deeper faith in Him.  For the apostles, it’s a deepening of faith.  And it’s a faith that needs to be deepened.  He asked them, “Why are you terrified?  Do you not yet have faith?”  And that’s not just an admonition, but it’s calling them into deeper faith in who Jesus is, and of course, they are questioning it.

Who then is this, whom even the winds and sea obey?  Now, for us, it’s a very good gospel.  How many times in your life have you felt you were in your own little boat on rough seas and by yourself, and you don’t know where to turn?  I think anyone who has logged in some adult years can identify times when that has happened.  And yet, do you doubt that Jesus is in the boat with you?  I think we do doubt when we are being tossed about by the waves of life, and wondering where God is, but Jesus is with you.

You know, the apostles weren’t too keen on that, but although He was asleep on a cushion, He was with them, and that’s for us to see that Jesus is with us.  And we have things that keep us from that.  We have a peculiar situation in our country that militates against that, that we so over-emphasize independence.  We tend to ignore our dependence on God and others.  And we are very dependent on people.  This over-emphasis on independence is not a good thing, because we are extremely dependent.

You’re dependent on dozens of people every day.  We can’t live alone; it’s impossible.  And so, we have to get that sense of dependence, and many times in a sense of dependence, we find the presence of Jesus in other people around us.  If we get too much into our own independence, we don’t see it.  But Jesus is with us, and many times it’s with the people who are surrounding us.  We’re not as independent as we think.

Years ago, I was chaplain of a Youth Development Center.  It’s kind of a reform school for young men, and many of them were extremely belligerent and believed that they didn’t need anybody and could get by on their own.   So, I played a little game with them.  I said, “Well, if you are so independent, what would you do if you were out in the woods alone?  How would you survive?”  A response might be, “Well, I’d get an axe and I’d chop down some trees.”  I would respond, “Wait, wait, where did you get that axe?  Didn’t somebody provide that for you?”  And as I played that game and kept pushing it, and they realized that if they were totally independent, they’d be standing naked in the woods.

We’re terribly dependent, and we really need Jesus, and we really need each other, and sometimes “each other” is the presence of Jesus.  That’s the way it is, and we have to realize our dependence on Jesus, and that Jesus is with us to calm the storms of life.

The other aspect of this, a totally different aspect but a very important one, is that it’s God’s creation, not ours.  We have a terrible time with this.  But God is the one who is running the show, not us.  And we have to learn to be able to discern God’s action in our lives and what that action is calling us to.

I know that almost any of you my age or even a bit younger can recall times in your life when things happened that you hadn’t planned, but it worked out for the best.  You know, God was working, and it was God’s plan, not yours.  And so, it’s for us to see that no, we’re not running the show, and when we try to run the show, we can end up feeling very alone, swamped by the waves of life.  We are trying to run everything ourselves, and we do the best we can with life, but always with an openness to God’s presence, God’s plan, and God’s direction.  It’s God’s, not ours.

I love an old spiritual that the gospel choir at St. Gerard’s used to sing.  The chorus of the song says, “He ain’t always there when you want Him, but He’s always right on time.”  That’s a bit humorous, but it’s quite profound.  You know, He ain’t always there when you want Him, but He’s always right on time.

Rooted in Faith and Love

Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
June 16, 2024 — Year B
Readings: Ez 17:22-24 / Ps 92 / 2 Cor 5:6-10 / Mk 4:26-34
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

This Sunday, we celebrate the liturgy with hearts open to the word of God, which reveals the mysteries of faith and the kingdom of heaven. Today’s readings, filled with imagery of growth and cultivation, invite us to reflect on the role of fathers, both earthly and heavenly, in nurturing and guiding the growth of their families and communities.

In the first reading, from Ezekial, God promises to take a tender shoot from the top of a cedar and plant it on a high and lofty mountain.  This tender shoot will grow into a majestic cedar, providing shelter and shade for all creatures.

This image is a powerful reminder of the role of parents as planters and nurturers. Fathers are called to plant seeds of faith, love, and virtue in the hearts of their children, trusting that God will bring these seeds into fruition. Just as the cedar grows strong and tall, so too do the seeds of guidance and example provided by fathers help their children grow in strength and character.

The psalm speaks of the righteous flourishing, like a palm tree and growing like a cedar of Lebanon, planted in the house of the Lord. This flourishing is not just physical, but spiritual and moral.  On Father’s Day we honor the fathers who, through their steadfast love and dedication, have created environments where their children can thrive. Their commitment and sacrifices are akin to the nurturing environment provided by fertile soil, allowing their children to grow deep roots in faith and moral integrity.

Karol Wojtyla Sr., father of the future Pope John Paul II, played a pivotal role in shaping his son’s spiritual life, as detailed in the book, John Paul II: Man of Prayer. Widowed when his son was just nine, Karol, known as “the captain,” was a quiet, upright, retired soldier and former tailor, who took on the roles of cooking, cleaning, and making his son’s clothes. He encouraged his son in his friendships, studies, and sports.

But most importantly, he instilled a deep faith in him. Their modest apartment in Wadowice, Poland was described by John Paul II as a domestic seminary. The elder Wojtyla set an example through his own deep and unselfconscious piety, praying often on his knees and making prayer a constant in their lives.  The two would read the Bible and pray the rosary together.

One significant detail from the book highlights this devotion.  Sometimes, young Karol would wake in the night to find his father kneeling in the dark, praying silently. This profound example of faith and integrity greatly influenced the spiritual formation of the future Pope.

Paul reminds us in the second reading that we walk by faith, not by sight. Fathers often embody this principle in their role as providers and protectors, making countless decisions and sacrifices, motivated by love and faith, even when the outcomes are uncertain. Paul’s message encourages fathers to persevere in their mission, trusting that their efforts, guided by faith, will be pleasing to the Lord.

Finally. in the gospel of Mark, Jesus uses the parables of growing seed and the mustard seed to illustrate the kingdom of God.  These parables highlight the mysterious and gradual growth of the kingdom, often unnoticed, but unstoppable. Fathers can draw inspiration from these parables, understanding that their efforts, even the smallest acts of love and guidance, are like seeds planted in the hearts of their children.  Though the growth may be slow and imperceptible at times, the impact is profound and enduring.

A man was visiting a farmer and saw him planting his field. “What are you sowing?” he asked. “Wheat” was the answer. “And what do you expect to reap from it?” he asked. “Wheat, of course,” said the farmer.

The very same day, some little thing provoked the farmer to go into cursing and swearing.  The visitor asked, “What are you sowing now?” The farmer said, “What? Do you take such serious views of every mood, word, and action?” The visitor replied, “Yes. For every word helps to form a permanent temper. And for every word we must give account, and every act aids to form a habit. And habits are to the soul what the veins and arteries are to the blood, the courses in which it moves and will move forever. By all these little words and actions, we are forming character, and the character will go with us to eternity, and according to it will be our destiny and the destiny of others forever.”

Jesus’ parable emphasizes the natural and gradual process of growth.  The seed grows night and day, whether he sleeps or gets up. This underscores the idea that spiritual growth and the advancement of God’s kingdom are often not immediately visible but occur continuously and inevitably over time.  It reassures believers that God is at work, even when we do not see immediate results. Our role is to plant the seed and trust in God’s timing for the growth and fruition.

The transformation from a tiny seed to a large plant signifies the profound impact the kingdom of God can have on the world and on individuals’ lives. The mustard plant becomes large enough that the birds of the air can perch in its shade.

This highlights the inclusive and expansive nature of God’s kingdom, providing shelter, refuge, and community. It challenges believers to consider how their faith and actions can contribute to creating a welcoming and nurturing environment for others.

The parable encourages us and those who may feel that their efforts are too small to make a difference. It reassures us that God values and can use even the smallest acts of faith and kindness in a world that often celebrates immediate success and grand gestures. This parable invites us to appreciate the humble beginnings and trust in the long-term impact of our faithfulness.

This Sunday, the Church calls us to trust in the power of small beginnings and our role in enhancing the growth of the kingdom of God. It encourages us to nurture our faith; be patient with the process; and contribute to a community where all can find refuge and support. This reflection invites us to embrace the mystery of God’s work in the world and our lives, holding onto the hope that even the small seeds of faith can grow into something magnificent.

Today, brothers and sisters, as we reflect on the readings and celebrate Father’s Day, let us give thanks for the fathers and father figures in our lives.  Let us recognize the vital role they play in nurturing, guiding, and supporting their families.  Their love and dedication reflect God’s love for us: a love that is patient, steadfast, and ever-present.

As we honor our fathers, let us also pray for them, that they may continue to be strong and faithful stewards of their families, and that they may be blessed with wisdom and grace to lead their children towards life rooted in faith and love. May all fathers find joy in their vocation, and may their children grow to be the living testimony to their tireless love and devotion.

May Jesus Christ be praised.

Abide in Him

Fifth Sunday of Easter
April 28, 2024 — Year B
Readings: Acts 9:26-31 / Ps 22 / 1 Jn 3:18-24 / Jn 15:1-8
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

As we come to the Fifth Sunday of Easter, we find ourselves immersed in a season of renewal and growth.  The readings for this Sunday offer profound insights into the themes of love, unity, and the transformative power of faith.

The first reading, from the Acts of the Apostles, offers a powerful example of the transformative power of faith.  We witness the conversion of Saul, who after encountering the risen Christ on the road to Damascus, undergoes a profound spiritual transformation.  Formerly a persecutor of Christians, Saul becomes Paul, one of the greatest apostles of the early Church.  His conversion serves as a reminder that no one is beyond the reach of God’s grace and mercy.  It is never too late for redemption, and God can work miracles in the most unlikely of circumstances.

In the second reading, from the first letter of John, we are reminded of the centrality of love in the Christian life.  Love is not merely a sentiment or emotion, but a concrete expression of our commitment to God and one another.  As followers of Christ, we are called to love, not only in word or speech, but in deed and truth.  Our love for others becomes a tangible sign of our discipleship and a reflection of God’s love for us.

In the Gospel of John, Jesus presents the metaphor of the vine and the branches, illustrating the intimate relationship between Himself and His disciples.  Just as branches draw nourishment and life from the vine, so we too draw our strength and vitality from our connection to Christ.  This imagery reminds us of the importance of remaining rooted in Christ, for apart from Him, we can do nothing.

This passage invites us to reflect on the nature of our own relationship with Christ.  Are we actively abiding in Him, allowing His love to flow through us and bear fruit in our lives?  Do we seek to cultivate a deep and abiding faith that sustains us through life’s trials and challenges?  As we ponder these questions, we are called to recommit ourselves to the journey of discipleship, continually striving to deepen our connection with Christ and bear witness to His love in the world.

Somebody once compared a Christian to a basketball player.  He said that to be a good player, it is not enough that you know how to dribble or avoid getting fouls.  What matters most is to be able to shoot, to make points, and to be productive.  We are called to not only observe and learn about Jesus, but also to allow Jesus and His presence, His message, His attitudes to become so much a part of us that Jesus lives in us, and we live in God and abide in each other.  Further, we gain our source, our meaning, and our fruitfulness from that connection to Christ.  Without Jesus, our efforts are misdirected and fruitless.  Connected to Jesus, our actions and efforts can bear much fruit by God working in and through our lives.

The great saint Thomas Aquinas contended that we could have an idea of religion through the meaning of the three etymologies of the Latin word religio:  to bind—religare, to read—legere, to choose— eligere.  We are by nature religious beings.  We come from God, and we’ll return to God.  We can lead the fullness of human life if we fully bind ourselves with God.  We read our life’s situation in the light of God’s kingdom, and we choose to love God above all things.  Real happiness results when there is communion with God in our lives.

Jesus said, “I am the vine, you are the branches.  Whoever remains in Me and I in him, will bear much fruit.”  The connection to this image of the vine and branches can’t help but highlight the importance of the Eucharist.  In the Eucharist, Jesus comes to us in the form of food and drink.  We take Jesus in, and He becomes part of us so that we may become more like Christ in our words, actions, and lives.  The gospel you heard today is very special, because it shows us that we are all connected to our Lord.  We are friends and members of Jesus.

What Jesus wants to teach us in today’s gospel is the extreme necessity for us to remain.  What does to remain in Christ mean?  To remain in Christ means first, to listen to Him and keep His words.  Actually, we can refuse to listen to Him at all or we can listen to Him and then render Him lip service unsupported by any good deeds.  We can accept Him as Lord and then abandon Him in the midst of difficulties and temptations or attribute all of our difficulties and temptations to Him.

Second, is to recognize that Christ alone is the real vine, and that without Him we can do nothing of value to God.

Third, is to live in the Church, which is the mystical body of Christ.  (One of the popes appropriately said that one who does not have the Church as his or her mother cannot have God as his or her Father.)

Fourth, is to see God in all persons and things, even in our enemies and those things we do not like.

Fifth, is to have an active sacramental and prayer life.  Do we always pray?  Do we regularly attend Mass on Sundays?  Do we avail ourselves of the sacrament of confession?  How about if we spend just a few minutes talking about the word of God instead of talking about nothing?

Lastly, is to be convinced that there is a need to prune the structures, methods, approaches, and other things that have become old and obsolete in order to give way to new ones and to remain always with Christ, the everlasting, who Himself is the vine.

As we meditate on the readings this Sunday, may we be inspired to deepen our relationship with Christ, to bear fruit in our lives, and to love one another as He has loved us.  May we, like the early disciples, be empowered by the Holy Spirit to proclaim the good news of salvation and to be agents of transformation in the world.

Can I Get a Witness?

Third Sunday of Easter
April 14, 2024 — Year B
Readings: Acts 3:13-15, 17-19 / Ps 4 / 1 Jn 2:1-5a / Lk 24:35-48
by Rev. Jay Biber, Guest Celebrant

Some of your fellow parishioners are away on a Cursillo weekend.  If you are not familiar with that word, it’s a Spanish word which means “a short course.”  In Christianity, it began almost a hundred years ago as a way of revitalizing the Faith among lay people.

And so, this is a women’s Cursillo going on this weekend, and like all Catholic stuff, there’s a specific order to it.  There’s reason behind it.  It’s ordered so it exposes the core elements of the Faith in an ordered way, but it’s also very personal.  There’s a lot of witnessing to people’s own experiences.  One of the things that happens is what they call the Emmaus Walk.

What we begin the gospel with today is the end of that walk.  Two discouraged disciples encounter Christ on the way to Jerusalem, on the road.  They are so discouraged and heartsick.  They think that everything they hope for is gone.  They meet the risen Christ, but they don’t recognize Him, and He explains it all.  He lays it all out to them – this is how it had to happen.  And then at the end, when did they recognize Him?  This is the breaking of the bread; that’s when they recognize Him.

The women on Cursillo this weekend are from as far Charlottesville, Harrisonburg, Waynesboro, Roanoke, this whole part of the state.  On this Emmaus Walk, two participants are paired with each other; they go out and walk for half an hour.  They are a couple of days into this experience already, and it’s probably begun to shake up their hearts a little bit.  This is the time when they’re saying, “This is the time; what’s going on in there?”  They get a chance to talk; and they know they won’t be judged.  They probably don’t know the other person to start with.  But they know that God is at work, and it’s a good opportunity to put their faith into words.

At the core of our Faith is the capacity to take into the world, sort of like charity.  It begins at home, but it doesn’t end there.  The giving of witness, a testimony is a way of doing that.  Telling the stories begins at home, but it doesn’t end there.  The allusions to witnessing are strong.  If you believe you have a gift to give, a gift around which you can organize your whole life, a gift that echoes through the ages, that gift can be shared with simple people, complicated people, rich people, poor people, educated, not educated people.  We can give that gift to our children by telling them here’s where you are, you’re a member of this family, you belong here, you’re not just some piece adrift in the universe.  As you’re at this table, you’re part of a great family, and it goes way, way back in time and every place on Earth.

Think about Peter in the Acts of the Apostles.  He says the author of life you put to death, but God raised him from the dead.  Of this we are witnesses.  That’s what the apostles were doing – being witnesses and giving a testimony.  And then of course in the gospel, it is Jesus himself.  Thus, is it written – He’s laying out what you can do with your children and tell them the stories that say that Christ would suffer and rise from the dead.  So, you don’t have to panic or run away.  No – He said this was going to happen and that repentance for the forgiveness would be preached in his name.  Where?  To all the nations.  And you are witnesses of these things.

In the summer of 1983, I had completed my seminary studies but had declined ordination in 1972.  I went into the business world, enjoyed the heck out of it, and thought I’d be married with a family by 1982.  But it didn’t happen, and I began to consider ordination.  People asked if it was the hand of God, and I said no, I think it was the foot!  He was nagging me.  I thought I had a better idea, but long story short, I was in Boston at the time, and happened to meet the bishop; he asked if I wanted to go to school.  I said no, I need to decide if I have enough faith for something like this, and I don’t know if I’d be any good at it.  I needed to know if people would think I was any good at it.  I said I don’t know what I think; you’ll have to throw me in the pool.  So, he did; I started off at six months at St. Vincent DePaul by the shipyard in Newport News.  That was a special blessing because it was way ahead of its time in a lot of ways.  It was a very integrated parish.  I sang with the folk group and a gospel choir both.

When summer came, I knew this would be a real test because I worked up at what was then called Medical College of Virginia in Richmond.  I liked it, because it was a combination of the hospitals I had known in Boston, a little of Mass General, and a little bit of Boston City Hospitals – Mass General being the high-end teaching place for all the exotic stuff, and Boston City being a tough hospital in the inner city.  MCV (now VCU Medical Center) was both.  I spent ten weeks there in the summer of ’83.  And I was a wreck at the end of it – we were on call two nights a week and saw all that comes in in the course of a night.  My special unit was the burn unit in which people come from all over.  I also had general surgery which included a lot of gunshot and knife wounds. These are tough places to be.  I wondered if I could bring faith to this whole world, not just to Catholics.  It was awful at the time, but it did the trick, and I decided that I could go on.

At the same time, I realized that I was going to benefit from being there.  Broad Street in Richmond is a great dividing line between white and black neighborhoods.  And there I was on campus at VCU staying in one of the dorms.  And somebody recommended that I visit a Baptist Church right near here – Cedar Street Baptist.  So, I would go to Mass at St. Peter’s (the original Cathedral for our diocese) near the state capital, and then I’d go to Cedar Street Baptist, and there I experienced my introduction into this brilliant black culture, where the whole idea of witnessing is very important.  The gospel choir and the preaching are very important, and they would say that it’s not even a prayer until you break a sweat.  There’s an energy to it; ours is beautiful but much more modest.  There are so many beautiful ways to pray.  So, we’d be singing and then there was a quiet, beautiful ritual to it.  As it warmed up, you’d hear the Amen Corner.

We have our own Amen Corner; we have the back and forth which is a core of our worship.  “The Lord be with you.”  “And with your spirit.”  “Lift up your hearts.”  “We lift them up unto the Lord.”  We do that throughout the whole liturgy.  The antiphon is the back-and-forth prayer.  In the black churches, there was a time when the church was the only place they could legally meet.  The church was where everyone was at home, and as the preacher would warm up, people would say, “Come on now, preach!” to encourage.  At some point, he would ask, “Can I get a witness?”  They recognized the depth.  Of course, this is a witness that’s gone through things that you can’t imagine.  This is a witness that goes back how many generations?  A witness where the only one was God; the only one was Christ.

What a lesson.  You know, the centrality of the witness that would tell the story and break out into a testimony.  I had an event this past week in Lexington where there were a lot of college kids.  There was free pizza – what’s not to love?  The program was on loss and joy and included a bunch of kids from W&L and VMI and also parishioners.  I told them that I look at them differently than their professors do, because I look at you and I say, I want you to be ready to be able to your 3-year-old seven years from now, to be able to give a witness to your 10-year-old, to your 16-year-old, to put the story of your faith on your own lips, and learn how to do it with great confidence.  I want to say that you want to have children, that you are not afraid, and I have the big story of our Faith to tell them, and the personal stories that go with it – the personal stories that illumine the big story.  And I said that’s what I like to see.  Of course, giving a witness is a little bit like dancing – you’re scared stiff because you move one foot and you don’t know what the other is going to do yet.

But what a beautiful gift to give – it’s how the faith gets spread to the corners of the earth.  Our way of looking at things, telling the big story, as those women are doing on their Cursillo this weekend, telling their stories as well.  It becomes an enormous gift, because I know that whatever happens to my child, in success or in moments of difficulties, Christ will be there.  I’ll have words on my lips to say that we don’t have to run from anyone.

Who Is This Man?

Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion
March 24, 2024 — Year B
Readings: Is 50:4-7 / Ps 22 / Phil 2:6-11 / Mk 14:1-15:47
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Today we embark on a profound journey that encapsulates the contrasting emotions of jubilation and solemnity, celebration and sacrifice.  As we wave palm branches and chant “Hosanna,” we join the crowd in welcoming Jesus into Jerusalem, acknowledging Him as our King and Savior.  Yet, intertwined with this triumphant entry, is the shadow of the cross looming over Him.

Today, the Church begins Holy Week with Palm or Passion Sunday.  What is the correct title?  Is it Palm Sunday or Passion Sunday?  Well, actually, it is both. At the beginning of the Mass today, there is the blessing of the palm branches, and then there is the long gospel narrative of the suffering and death of Jesus.  What does all of this mean as we begin Holy Week, going on to Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter?

With Palm Sunday, we begin the yearly journey, a journey not so much toward a destination, but a journey into a sacred time.  We follow Jesus as He accomplishes His Paschal Mystery, which is His suffering, death, and resurrection, or in simple terms, the saving mission of Jesus.  Jesus wants to save us from our sins and bring us closer to God.  The readings of Palm Sunday invite us to reflect deeply on the mysteries of Christ’s Passion, inviting us to walk alongside Him in His final moments.

In the gospel narrative, we witness the fickleness of human nature as the same crowd that hailed Jesus with hosannas later cries out for His crucifixion.  This stark comparison challenges us to examine our own commitment to Christ.  Are we truly devoted to Him, or do we falter when faced with adversity or societal pressure?  From the depths of human weakness and sinfulness, Jesus wants to lift us up to God and to living a life of holiness, a life for which God has created us to live.  As we walk with Jesus through St. Mark’s account of the Passion, we are challenged to answer, perhaps for the first time, or perhaps for the hundredth time, the Jesus question:  Who is this man that died on the cross and what does His death have to do with me?

The painfully detailed description of Jesus’ sufferings will bear no fruit in us unless we face this question and offer our personal answer.  Our answer may start us on a lifelong commitment to Christ, or it may deepen a commitment we made long ago.  We may struggle with darkness and with many more questions and find ourselves on our knees at the foot of the cross, but we cannot walk away from the Passion without an answer.

There is so much to ponder as we read the account of the plot to kill Jesus, the anointing at Bethany, the treachery of Judas, the Passover preparations, Jesus’ prophecy of His betrayal, His institution of the Eucharist, His agony in Gethsemane, His betrayal, arrest, and trial, Peter’s denial, the judgement of Pilate, Jesus’ humiliation and torture, His crucifixion, death, and burial.  We could spend a lifetime mining the depths of the Passion narrative and this would be a fruitful way to spend a lifetime.

The urgent issue, however is that we truly encounter Jesus through this story.  We do not know how long our lifetime will be.  We cannot wait.  We cannot put off our answer until a tomorrow that may never come for us.  The Passion narrative invites us to contemplate Christ’s unwavering obedience to the Father’s will, even in the face of immense suffering.  Jesus’ agony in the garden of Gethsemane reveals the depth of His humanity as He grapples with the impending ordeal, but His prayer, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup away from me.  Still, not my will, but yours be done,” embodies the epitome of submission and trust in God’s plan.

As we meditate on Christ’s journey to Calvary, we are confronted with the harsh realities of sin and its consequences.  The betrayal by Judas, the denial by Peter, and the abandonment by His disciples, serve as poignant reminders of human frailty and the prevalence of moral weakness.  Yet, amidst these betrayals, Jesus extends forgiveness and compassion, exemplifying divine mercy in the face of human sinfulness.

At the heart of Palm Sunday lies the profound mystery of redemption, the sacrificial love of Christ poured out for our salvation.  Jesus willingly embraces the cross, bearing the weight of our sins so that we may be reconciled with God.  His cry of abandonment, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me,” echoes through the ages, encapsulating the depths of His solidarity with humanity in its darkest hour.

Palm Sunday beckons us to journey alongside Christ embracing the paradox of the cross, the instrument of suffering transformed into a symbol of victory and redemption.  May we, like the faithful centurion who witnessed Jesus’ crucifixion, profess with conviction, “Truly this man was the Son of God.”  May our hearts be stirred with gratitude for the immense sacrifice of love offered for our salvation, and may we respond with renewed dedication to follow Christ faithfully, even to the foot of the cross.

As we enter into Holy Week, no matter how many times we have walked the way of the cross with Jesus, watched Him die, attended His burial, and dwelt in darkness at the tomb waiting for the light, it is a time for us to face right now the central question, Who is this this man who died on the cross and what does His death have to do with me?

Spiritual Blindness

Fourth Sunday of Lent
March 10, 2024 — Year B  (Readings for Scrutiny Year A)
Readings: 1 Sm 16:1b, 6-7, 10-13a / Ps 23 / Eph 5:8-14 / Jn 9:1-41
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Most Catholics know that the third Sunday of Advent is also known as Gaudete Sunday, the day on which our excitement for the coming of the Lord is heightened, because the Church assures us that it will soon be upon us.  Less known is Laetare Sunday, the fourth Sunday of Lent.  Both days refer to happiness.  In fact, the word Laetare means “rejoice” in Latin.  Gaudete means “joyful.”  The connection is obvious, as they are both days of joyous anticipation in the midst of what might seem like darkness.  In fact, Easter is exactly twenty-one days from Laetare Sunday.

As we journey through the Lenten season, the fourth Sunday of Lent offers us a profound opportunity for introspection and spiritual renewal.  This Sunday invites us to rejoice amidst our penitential practices, for we are reminded of the boundless mercy and love of God.

The gospel reading for this Sunday tells us the story of the man born blind, whom Jesus heals.  This miraculous healing serves as a powerful metaphor for the spiritual blindness that afflicts humanity.  Like the scribes in the story, we, too, can be blinded by our own pride, prejudice, and self-righteousness.  We may fail to recognize God working in our midst, and the transformative power of His love.

Someone once said to Helen Keller, “What a pity you have no sight.”  Helen Keller replied, “Yes, but what a pity so many have sight but cannot see.”

Jesus, toward the end of the gospel, says, “I came into this world for judgment, so that those who do not see may see.  And those who do see may become blind.”  In other words, this gospel passage concentrates on the distinction between physical and spiritual blindness.

The early Christians saw physical blindness as a metaphor for the spiritual blindness that prevents people from recognizing Jesus.  This story of healing of the man born blind testifies to the power of Jesus to heal not only physical blindness, but above all, the spiritual blindness of the heart.

How many blind men do you think are in our gospel today?  I’m sure most answers will be “one,” because there is only one identified blind person.  But I would rather say that there are four cases of blindness in this story.  The first blind ones are the apostles themselves, because they ask, “Who sinned, the parents or the blind man himself?” instead of helping the person.  The Jews believed that a person got sick because he was being punished for his sin or his parents’ sin.

The second blind ones are his parents, relatives, and neighbors.  Even though they witness that it is Jesus who heals the blind man, they refuse to say it.  They refuse to witness because of their fear that they would be expelled from the synagogue by the Pharisees.

The third blind ones are the Pharisees, because they refuse to acknowledge that Jesus had performed the miracle of restoring sight to the blind man.  They suspend their belief because of their biases against Him.  Instead, they call Jesus a sinner because He violated the law of the Sabbath.  They are blind to the truth already in their eyes.

The fourth blind one is, of course, the blind man himself.  A source said that eighty percent of our work depends on our eyes.  Eighty percent is rather a big chunk of activities.  It means that totally blind people have an output of only twenty percent with regard to work.  But based on experience by most blind people, even if they cannot see with their own physical eyes, God finds means by sharpening their other senses in order to go on with life.

This could be the case with the blind man.  He could not see with his physical eyes, but he could see and sense with his heart.  This could be the reason why he easily feels the accepting and healing attitude of Jesus toward him.  But Jesus cures him because of his faith and trust in Him.  Though he was blind physically, he could see with his heart.  The other three groups could see with their eyes, but not with their hearts, as fear, cowardice, prejudices, biases, and their own selfish interests blind them.

Today’s gospel gives us hope because Jesus Christ performs miracles for us.  He cures us of our sickness and feeds us with His Word, Body, and Blood.  But above all, He died for us and then rose from the dead and brings us to eternal life.

Like Jesus who is our light, and shows us the light of truth in our path, let us all, too, show the light and be a light while we are still alive.

There is a story about two soldiers who found themselves recovering in the same hospital room during World War II.  Every day, the one beside the window of the room would describe the outside world to the other soldier, who was paralyzed from the neck down.  Not only did he share many beautiful and exciting stories about the outside world, he also continued to give cheer and hope to his disabled comrade.

Then, one morning, the soldier beside the window died.  On that same morning, the disabled soldier was transferred to that other soldier’s bed upon his request, near the window.  He found out that there was nothing beautiful outside the window.  There was just a wall.  His friend who had just died was blind.

Our readings today challenge us to examine our own spiritual blindness and to seek the healing touch of Christ.  They call us to open our eyes to the marginalized and oppressed, to see the humanity in every person, and to respond with compassion and love.  Just as Jesus restored physical sight to the blind man, He invites us to open our hearts to His light, allowing it to illuminate the darkness within us and guide us on the path of righteousness.

As we continue our Lenten journey, let us embrace the message of hope and joy that Laetare Sunday brings.  Let us rejoice in the mercy of God, who calls us to repentance and offers us forgiveness and redemption.  May we open our eyes to see His presence in our lives and in the world around us.  And may we respond with gratitude and love.

The Transformative Power of Knowing Jesus

Third Sunday of Lent
March 3, 2024 — Year B  (Readings for Scrutiny Year A)
Readings: Ex 17:3-7 / Ps 95 / Rom 5:1-2, 5-8 / Jn 4:5-42
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

In our readings today, we have one of the most profound encounters recorded in the Bible, the meeting of Jesus with the Samaritan woman at the well.  This passage is rich with lessons on faith, identity, and the transformative power of encountering Jesus.

At the outset, we find Jesus breaking social norms by engaging in conversation with a Samaritan woman, crossing boundaries of ethnicity, gender, and religion.  This interaction challenges us to examine our own prejudices and preconceptions about who is worthy of God’s grace and love.  Jesus shows us that His message is for all people, regardless of their background or status in society.  We also notice that the Samaritan woman has many excuses at the start of her encounter with Jesus.  In their dialogue, the woman’s responses are evasive.  Jesus is asking her to fetch her husband.  The woman says, “I do not have a husband,” instead of telling Jesus the truth that she has had six husbands.

This reminds me of the story of four high school students who decided to cut classes one morning and did not go to school until noon.  They told the teacher that they had a flat tire on the way to school and that was why they were late.  They were very relieved when they saw the teacher smile and heard her say, “Ok.  I understand, boys.  You missed a test, but you can make it up right now.”  She had them sit in the four corners of the room away from one another.  “Now,” the teacher said, “You will answer just one question.  Which tire was flat?”

Jews and Samaritans had been divided for centuries.  They had no dealings with one another, avoiding all social contact, even trade and intermarriage.  If their paths crossed, that meant that hostility would result.  When Jesus passed through Samaria, He did the unthinkable.  He conversed with a Samaritan woman, risking ritual impurity and scorn from His fellow Jews.  He also did something no strict rabbi would dare to do in public without losing his reputation.  He greeted a woman and spoke openly with her.  A rabbi during this time would not even talk to his own wife in public.  Not only was this person a woman, but a notorious adulteress as well.  No decent Jew would think of being seen with such a woman.

These are the interesting details of the process of the transformation or conversion of the woman.  Jesus guides the woman gradually to enlightenment.  Jesus talks back and forth with this woman seven times, more than with any other person in the gospels.  First, she started by calling Him, “Jew,” or outsider for Samaritans.  Second, “Sir.”  Third, “Give me this water.”  Fourth, “I do not have a husband.”  Fifth, “You are a prophet.”  Sixth, eventually, “Messiah.”  Seventh, leading the whole village to proclaim Him as savior of the world.

At the beginning, the woman was arrogant and proud, but one by one, Jesus broke down her defenses.  Jesus told the woman, “You are right because you have had five husbands, and the man with whom you are living is not your husband.”  In other words, her life was a mess.  But Jesus did not condemn her.  Neither did He excuse her and allow her to continue as she was.  At the end of their conversation, she was changed. Why was she changed?  Because she opened her heart.  She did not hold onto pride, rationalizations, and traditions that kept her from realizing and accepting the truth.  In other words, she let go, she surrendered, and just let Jesus take over her life.

But what is the point of Jesus’ exchange with the woman about water?  Water in this arid land was scarce.  Jacob’s well was located in a strategic fork in the road between Samaria and Galilee.  One can live without food for several days, but not without water.  Water is an absolute necessity of life.  We drink it, cook with it, and use it for keeping clean.  Water, too, is a source of life and growth for all living things.

The kind of water which Jesus spoke about in today’s gospel was living and running water.  Living water was a symbol for the Jew of the soul’s thirst for God.  As the conversation unfolded, Jesus revealed Himself to the woman as the source of living water, offering a deeper spiritual nourishment that transcends physical thirst.

In this encounter, we see the thirst of the human soul for something greater than worldly fulfillment.  Jesus satisfied this thirst by offering Himself as the true fulfillment of our deepest longings. The water Jesus spoke of symbolized the Holy Spirit and His work of recreating us in God’s image and sustaining in us the new life which comes from God.  The life which the Holy Spirit produces in us makes us a new creation in Jesus Christ.  The woman’s response is one of faith and openness.  She recognizes Jesus as a prophet and is willing to engage in dialogue with Him.  Her willingness to listen and learn, despite her past, demonstrates the transformative power of encountering Jesus.

Like the Samaritan woman, we are called to approach Jesus with humility and openness, allowing Him to reveal Himself to us and transform our lives.  As the passage concludes, we see the woman’s newfound faith leading to action.  She becomes an evangelist, sharing her encounter with Jesus with others in her community.  Her testimony serves as a powerful reminder that encountering Jesus leads to a mission of sharing His love and truth with others.

In reflecting on today’s readings, we are invited to examine our own encounters with Jesus.  Have we allowed Him to break down the barriers in our lives and reveal Himself to us?  Are we willing to respond in faith and allow His transformative power to shape our lives and actions?  Are we actively sharing the good news of Jesus with those around us?  May we, like the Samaritan woman, encounter Jesus anew and be transformed to live as His faithful disciples in the world.

Into the Desert of Lent

First Sunday of Lent
February 18, 2024 — Year B
Readings: Gn 9:8-15 / Ps 25 / 1 Pt 3:18-22 / Mk 1:12-15
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

On the first Sunday of Lent, the Liturgy invites us into a period of reflection, repentance, and spiritual renewal.   As we embark on the journey through the desert of Lent, the readings and themes for this day serve as guiding lights, illuminating the path toward deeper communion with God.  Lent comes from a Latin word meaning to soften.   Lent is a forty-day period which begins on Ash Wednesday and ends before the celebration of the Pascal Triduum.

Forty is the number often associated with intense spiritual exercises.  God caused it to rain for forty days and forty nights to cleanse the earth.  The Israelites were in the wilderness for forty years.  Moses spent forty days and forty nights on Mt. Sinai, and Elijah journeyed forty days and forty nights to Mt. Horeb.

The gospel reading for this Sunday centers around Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness, highlighting the struggle between the forces of good and evil.  It prompts us to contemplate our own vulnerabilities and the temptations we face in our daily lives.  Through Jesus’ example, we find encouragement to resist these temptations with the strength of faith and reliance on God’s word.

In the Old Testament we encounter the story of Noah and the flood, symbolizing purification and renewal.  This narrative reminds us of God’s covenant with humanity and His promise of redemption even in the midst of trial and adversity.  It serves as a reminder of faithfulness and obedience in our relationship with God.

St. Jerome, the brilliant doctor of the church, lived for twenty-five years in the cave where the child Jesus was born.  One time he prayed to Jesus thus, “Dear Child, you have suffered so much to save me.  How can I make amends?”  “What can you give me, Jerome?” a voice was heard.  “I will spend my entire life in prayer, and I will offer all my talents into your hands,” Jerome replied.  “You do that to glorify me, but what more can you give to me?” the voice asked again.  “I will give all my money to the poor,” Jerome explained.  The voice said, “Give your money to the poor.  It would be just as if you were giving it to me.  But what else can you give to me?”  St Jerome became distraught and said, “Lord, I have given you everything.  What is there left to give?”  “Jerome, you have not still given to me your sins,” the Lord replied.  “Give them to me, so I can erase them.”  With these words, Jerome burst into tears and spoke, “Dear Jesus, take all that is mine and give me all that is yours.”

Brothers and sisters, the liturgical season of Lent calls us to introspection and self-examination, urging us to identify areas for growth and transformation through prayer, fasting, and almsgiving.  We are invited to draw closer to God and to our neighbors, embodying the love and compassion of Christ in our actions.

The gospel reading today tells us that Jesus went into the desert and spent forty days there.  It tells us about the first time that our Lord was tempted.  It was the first time that the devil openly confronted Christ and put Him to the test.  But as we know, Jesus did not sin.  He was like us in everything but sin.  The devil tempted Him overtly, but Jesus did not give in to the temptations that the evil one placed before Him.

This is a very important event in Jesus’ life.  This event in Jesus’ life shows us that we should not believe that Satan would never tempt us openly.  We cannot say as some do, that I do not ever commit a sin.  Satan puts everyone to temptation, and many times we give in to him, something that our Lord Jesus did not do.

Lent is a time for us to show our repentance through fasting and abstinence for the sins we have committed.  Mortification, penance, strengthens our souls so that we can resist the devil, who as tradition tells us during the entire year, but especially during these forty days of Lent and during the days that we commemorate the Passion of Christ, will try to tempt us with greater determination and venom.  We should not forget that even though Satan will tempt us, Christ, especially during these forty days, will help us to free ourselves from sin.  He will give us the graces that we need to conquer those temptations.  Of course, He will do this if we prepare ourselves, if we wipe clean our souls of sin, if we ask Him for those graces. When we are sincerely repentant and we say, “Lord, protect me from all sin,” He will do just that.

The season of Lent, the season of mercy is the best time for us to purify ourselves and strengthen ourselves to change our lives, to repent and follow Christ.  We begin to feel this process of conversion when we firmly resolve to better our spiritual lives and to change our lives if they need to be changed.  If we truly believe in the Good News, the Gospel of Christ, we must feel the radical need to abandon our lives of sin.

In those forty days spent in the desert, fasting and praying, our Lord gave us an example of what we need to do to prepare spiritually for Easter.  During these forty days of Lent, Jesus asks us to let go of all those worldly things that tie us to sin.  He asks us to let go of our selfishness, our sinful pride, our belief that we are better than everybody else.  The conversion that the Lord asks us to go through really means maintaining a close relationship with God.  It would be a lamentable error if we did not take advantage of these Lenten days, leaving for later what we know we need to do now in order to change our lives, with an ardent desire to change our lives, remembering that there is still time today, but it may be too late tomorrow.

Let us repent and confess our sins in the sacrament of Reconciliation.  As we reflect on the readings and themes on this first Sunday of Lent, we are reminded of the significance of this season as a time of spiritual renewal and preparation for the celebration of Easter.  It is a time to reorient our hearts and minds towards God, to seek forgiveness for our shortcomings, and to deepen our commitment to living lives of holiness and discipleship.

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.