Flawed and Beautiful

Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
February 11, 2024 — Year B
Readings: Lv 13:1-2, 44-46 / Ps 32 / 1 Cor 10:31-11:1 / Mk 1:40-45
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

The readings for today invite us to reflect on the call to holiness and the transformative power of God’s love in our lives.

In the first reading, from the Book of Leviticus, we encounter the intricate laws given to Moses by God for the purification and healing of those afflicted with leprosy.  Leprosy, a symbol of sin and impurity, isolates individuals from their communities, casting them into the margins of society.  Yet through the compassion of God and the actions of the priest, those suffering from leprosy are offered a path of restoration and reconciliation.  This narrative reminds us that God’s love knows no bounds and extends even to the most marginalized and excluded members of society.  It challenges us to examine our own attitudes toward those who are different from us, and to recognize the inherent dignity and worth of every human being.

In the hustle and bustle of our modern lives, it’s easy to get caught up in the pursuit of perfection.  We strive for flawless appearances, impeccable achievements and seamless performances.  Yet, amidst this relentless pursuit of perfection, we often overlook the inherent beauty found in imperfection.

Once in a distant village nestled among rolling hills, there lived a potter, renowned for his exquisite craftsmanship.  His creations were flawless, each vessel bearing the mark of his skill and dedication.  People from far and wide sought his pottery, believing it to be the epitome of perfection.

One day a traveler passing through the village stopped by the potter’s humble workshop.  Intrigued by the tales of the potter’s mastery, the traveler watched intently as the potter skillfully molded clay into elegant shapes.  However, amidst the display of precision, the traveler noticed something peculiar:  a small crack on the surface of a seemingly flawless vase.

Curious, the traveler inquired about the imperfection.  With a serene smile, the potter replied, “Ah, my friend, perfection is an illusion.  It is in the imperfections that true beauty resides.”  He then proceeded to explain that the crack in the vase was not a flaw to be concealed, but a unique feature that added character and depth to the piece.

The potter’s wisdom speaks volumes about our own lives.  We often strive for flawlessness, believing it to be the ultimate measure of success and happiness.  Yet, in our relentless pursuit of perfection, we overlook the beauty found in our imperfections, the cracks and blemishes that make us uniquely human.  Just as the cracked vase held a beauty beyond its flawless counterparts, so, too, do our imperfections enrich our lives.  It is through our struggles, failures, and vulnerabilities that we learn, grow, and connect with others on a deeper level.  Our imperfections are not signs of weakness, but signs of our resilience and capacity for growth.  We just need to offer them to God and allow Him to heal and cleanse us from our blemishes.

In our gospel today, we encounter a powerful demonstration of Jesus’ compassion and healing ministry.  This passage tells the story of a leper who approaches Jesus with humility and faith, seeking to be cleansed of his affliction.  The encounter between Jesus and the leper reveals profound truths about the nature of God’s love and the transformative power of compassion.

The leper, marginalized and shunned by society due to his condition, takes a bold step in approaching Jesus.  Despite the social stigma surrounding leprosy, he approaches Jesus with unwavering faith, believing in His power to heal.  His plea, “If you wish you can make me clean,” reflects both humility and trust in Jesus’ authority.

Moved by compassion, Jesus responds with a gesture that speaks volumes.  He reaches out and touches the leper.  In this simple yet profound act, Jesus not only demonstrates His willingness to heal, but also breaks down the barriers of social and religious exclusion.  By touching the leper, Jesus communicates a message of solidarity and acceptance, affirming the leper’s dignity and worth as a beloved child of God.

The healing of the leper is not merely physical, but also spiritual and emotional.  Through Jesus’ compassionate touch, the leper experiences not only physical restoration, but also reconciliation with God and the community.  He is no longer an outcast, but a restored member of society, free to fully participate in the life of the community once again.

As we reflect on this passage, we are reminded of the profound truth that lies at the heart of Jesus’ ministry:  the transformative power of compassion.  No matter how imperfect we are, no matter how simple we are, Jesus still reaches out to us with compassion and empathy.  He’s ready to make us clean if we reach out to Him.  As He said, “I do will it.  Be made clean.”

Jesus’ compassionate response to the leper also challenges us to examine our own attitudes and actions toward those who are marginalized or excluded in our community.  Do we, like Jesus, reach out to those in need with compassion and empathy?  Do we challenge the social and religious barriers that exclude others and perpetuate injustice?  Are we willing to extend a healing touch, both literal and metaphorical, to those who are hurting and in need of restoration?

So, as we journey through life, may the parable of the potter encourage us to embrace our imperfections with grace and gratitude.  Let us recognize that it is our flaws that make us beautiful, that our scars tell stories of trial over adversity, and that our brokenness is a testament to our strength and resilience.  And may we find solace in the knowledge that, in the eyes of God, we are perfectly imperfect, cherished just as we are.

May the story of Jesus’ encounter with the leper inspire us to embody His compassion in our own lives.  May we reach out to those who are marginalized or excluded, affirming their dignity and worth as beloved children of God.  And may we be agents of healing and reconciliation, in a world that is longing for the transformative power of compassion.

The True Mission

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
February 4, 2024 — Year B
Readings: Jb 7:1-4, 6-7 / Ps 147 / 1 Cor 9:16-19, 22-23 / Mk 1:29-39
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

The word “apostle” comes from two Greek words that together mean: one who is sent.  Each Christian has an apostolate to follow.  We have been called to evangelize, to be sent out like St. Paul and the twelve apostles, to announce the Good News of the love that God has for us all.

Today in our gospel reading, St. Mark continues his story about the first days of Jesus’ public life.  Mark tells us that Jesus preached in the synagogues, and that upon leaving the synagogues, He drove out many demons.  One day after preaching in a synagogue in Capernaum, the town in which Simon Peter and Andrew lived, Jesus decided to visit their home, together with James and John.  When He arrived, Jesus was told that Simon Peter’s mother-in-law was sick with a fever.

Jesus immediately decided to cure her.  That was how Jesus’ miracles occurred.  He saw the plight of the people that wanted to be cured, and He cured them.  Jesus approached Simon Peter’s mother-in-law, grasped her hand, and she was cured.  She immediately got out of bed and began to serve Jesus.  This was the way she showed that she was thankful for being cured.

After learning of this occurrence, the townspeople spread the news of the Lord’s miracle.  The news went from home to home, and soon the entire population of the town crowded around the door of the house.  From the surrounding area, people brought all who were sick or possessed by demons.  Jesus cured those who came to Him in faith.  The next day before dawn, Jesus went off to a certain place where He prayed.  Jesus was praying when the apostles arrived to tell Him that everyone was looking for Him.  People who wanted to be cured continued to arrive, but instead of returning to town, Jesus said to the apostles, “Let us go on to the nearby villages that I may preach there also.  For this purpose have I come.”  Our Lord’s true mission was to evangelize, to announce to all humanity the Good News of the love that God has for all human beings.

The gospel reading for this Sunday presents a glimpse of Jesus’ ministry, for He not only preached, but also engaged in acts of healing and compassion.  After healing Simon Peter’s mother-in-law and numerous others, Jesus retreated to pray, emphasizing the importance of maintaining a deep connection with the Father.  He then expressed His mission to preach the Gospel to other towns, underlining the purpose of His coming.  Jesus came to preach.  He came to proclaim the Good News of the kingdom of God, to invite all humankind to let God reign as king in their hearts and in their lives, to reconcile us with God and with one another.

Much of the sickness, poverty, and suffering that exists in our world is traceable to the disharmony or sin that separates us from God and from one another.  By healing this root cause of all of our problems, we find ourselves in a position to receive God’s abundant blessings in all areas of our lives:  spiritual as well as physical, moral as well as material, social as well as psychological.  But to try to seek physical healing and material well-being without first making peace with God is to miss the point.

In reflecting on the gospel passage, we are invited to consider our own response to the call of discipleship.  Like Jesus, we are called not only to receive His healing and grace, but also to actively participate in the mission of sharing the Good News.  Our faith is not meant to be passive, but dynamic, influencing our actions and interactions with others.

St. Paul invites us in the second reading to follow the example of the Lord to evangelize.  The true mission of all Christians is to proclaim the gospel to a world that needs to hear the word of God.  Our second reading reminds us of what St. Paul said to the Christians of Corinth, that for him, preaching was an obligation.  He did not do it for his own glory or to become rich.  He did not even start to do it on his own initiative.  He had been given a task to do:  to be a missionary of the Word of God, to become all things to all, so that he could save at least some.

St. Paul did not do this without problems, but despite the difficulties, he continued to announce the gospel.  He continued on the mission that he had been given.  If we want to do the same, we have to do as St. Paul did.  Our mission does not end when we walk out of the doors of this church after Sunday Mass.  It continues.

At Baptism, all Christians receive the same mission:  to evangelize within the boundaries of our own lives, every day, whether at school, at work, or in the home, in our words, our example and our way of life.  We are obliged to show that we are Christians, that we follow Christ, and that because we follow Christ, we constantly fight against evil and injustice in this world.  As Jesus’ message spreads to other communities, those people, too, receive His message and consolidate it, nurture it, and allow it to become part of them, abiding deep within them.  The Holy Spirit builds on it, in and through the people who hear and respond to it.

There is so much to be done, so much we can do, so little time to do it.  There are never enough hours in the day, days in the year. We do what we can and keep our eyes on the big picture. We draw strength, inspiration and vision from our prayerful “time-outs” with God to focus our energy, direct our choices, and lead us mindfully through the busy-ness of our days comprised of so many different possibilities and needs.  We can’t do everything.  We are all too aware of our limitations, so we ask the Lord to help us do what we can do, well, with focus, clear priorities, and above all, with love and compassion.

As we continue to celebrate the Holy Eucharist, let us reflect on the ways we actively participate in the mission of Jesus.  Are we open to being instruments of healing, compassion, and reconciliation in our communities?  Do we recognize the urgency of sharing the Good News in a world that thirsts for hope and meaning?

May we, like Jesus and St. Paul, respond to the call of discipleship with enthusiasm, trusting that God’s grace will empower us to fulfill our mission in the world.  Let us also ask the Virgin Mary to help us to be faithful to the mission that God has given us, just as she was.  And let us thank God for having called us to carry it out.

The Ultimate Authority

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
January 28, 2024 — Year B
Readings: Dt 18:15-20 / Ps 95 / 1 Cor 7:32-35 / Mk 1:21-28
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Once, a government surveyor brought his equipment to a farm, called on the farmer, and asked permission to go into one of the fields and take readings.  The farmer vigorously objected, fearing that the survey was the first step toward the construction of a highway through his land. “I will not give permission to go into my fields,” said the angry farmer. Whereupon the surveyor produced an official government document that authorized him to do the survey. “I have the authority,” he said, “to enter into any field in the entire country and take necessary readings.”

Faced with such authority, the farmer opened the gate and allowed the surveyor to enter the field. The farmer then went to the far end of the field and opened another gate, through which one of his fiercest bulls came charging. Seeing the raging bull, the surveyor dropped his equipment and ran for his life.  The farmer shouted after him, “Show him the paper! Show him your authority!”   Yes, the unfortunate surveyor has the authority, but the farmer’s bull has more convincing power.

Brothers and sisters, the same can be said about the gospel we preach and teach. The people of Capernaum received sacred instruction in their synagogue every Sabbath.  One Sabbath they had a different teacher, Jesus.  What Jesus taught them that day, as well as the way He presented and demonstrated His message, simply astonished them. Why?  It is because He taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes. Jesus’ teaching contrasted sharply with that of the scribes. In one word: Jesus taught with authority. The scribes did not.

Jesus astonished the people around Him for three big reasons. First, the teaching of Jesus is from the heart and not just from the head. He teaches with absolute conviction in his message, because He knows that His message is in accordance with the mind of God.  As He says in the gospel of St. John, when trying to persuade His unbelieving audience, “Very truly I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen, yet you do not receive our testimony.” His preaching is a personal testimony of His intimate relationship with God, His Father, unlike the scribes. They got their knowledge, not from their personal communion with God, but from their long and intricate commentaries on the law. As a result, most of their teaching is from the head and not from the heart.

If we claim to have faith in Christ, it is essential that we must listen to Him. We need to open ourselves to His wisdom and authority. The bottom line is not to take His teachings on the level of theories and ideas. Rather we must situate it into our faith life experience. For faith, devoid of practical action, is empty.  Theology without praxis is nothing. Knowledge waning in application is useless.

Second, it focuses on the spirit, and not on the letter of the law.  The scribe seeks to apply the prescription of the law to the letter. Jesus goes deeper, to find out the spirit, the original intent of the law, like for example, the law of the Sabbath observance. The scribes would busy themselves trying to determine precisely when the Sabbath begins and ends, and what constitutes work and what does not. Jesus would rather seek the mind of God, who gave the law to His people as an expression of His fatherly care and love.  His conclusion is that the Sabbath is a day we keep away from our work in order to serve God and do God’s work.

Lastly, it inspires a positive change of heart in the hearers, and not just to make the people feel bad. Like, for example, the man born blind.  The scribe seeks to explain why he is blind: whether it was he who sinned, or his parents. Jesus, on the other hand, is only interested in curing the blindness. For this reason, Jesus performed healings and exorcisms together with His teachings to show that His primary concern is to change the human situation and not just to explain it.

These are the three big reasons why people get astonished with Jesus: He teaches from the heart and not just from the head. He focuses on the spirit and not on the letter of the law. And he inspires a positive change of heart in the hearers.

There was an Indian prince who was a lover of knowledge. He had collected thousands of books in his large library. It happened that he was appointed the right hand of the king.  This position demanded that he travel almost always, in the kingdom’s vast territory and neighboring kingdoms, to represent the king. He brought along with him his books; thirty camels were needed to carry them.

Realizing the impracticality of loading all the books, he said to his chancellor, “Read all the books and then give to me the only book that is most important for my journey.”  After some time, the chancellor gave to the prince the book that summarized all the wisdom of the world. It was the Bible.  The prince asked, “What authority does this book have for it to be the only one that I should carry with me? Whereupon the chancellor replied, “It is the authority of the Son of God.” Shortly afterwards, the prince was baptized.

Brothers and sisters, we witness Jesus’ teaching in the synagogue with a profound authority that astounds the people. The crowd is amazed, not just by His words, but by the power with which He speaks. His authority is not like that of the scribes but comes from a deeper source. It is the authority of the Son of God, the Word Made Flesh.

As we reflect on this gospel passage, we are invited to examine our own lives and consider who or what holds authority over us. Do we recognize Jesus as the ultimate authority in our life, or are we swayed by the many competing voices in the world?

Jesus’ authority is not oppressive, but liberating. It brings healing, freedom, and a deeper understanding of God’s love.

In our daily lives, we may encounter challenges and struggles that test our faith. The authority of Jesus is a source of strength and hope during these times. When we submit to His authority, we open ourselves to the transformative power of His love and mercy.

So, as we continue to celebrate the Holy Mass, may we take a moment to reflect on the authority we recognize and submit to.  Let us renew our commitment to follow Jesus, allowing His authority to shape our thoughts, words, and deeds. In doing so, we embrace the freedom and joy that come from being in communion with the One who has authority over all creation.

May Jesus Christ be praised.

Answer the Call

Third Sunday in Ordinary Time
January 21, 2024 — Year B
Readings: Jon 3:1-5, 10 / Ps 25 / 1 Cor 7:29-31 / Mk 1:14-20
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

There is a story about a despondent man who came to his mother and said, “Mom, I’ve stopped going to church, for two reasons.   First, I don’t like the people and second, the people don’t like me.”  And the mother looked at him and said, “My son, you should go back to church for two reasons.  First, you are already fifty-nine years old and second, you are the pastor!”

But, brothers and sisters, as we reflect on the readings for the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, we are invited to ponder the profound concept of Divine Calling.  In the gospel, we witnessed the pivotal moment when Jesus called Simon, Andrew, James, and John to become fishers of men.  This summons, with its immediacy and simplicity, carries timeless significance for each of us.  The gospel narrative unfolds with a sense of urgency, mirroring the immediacy of Jesus’ call.

In our own lives, we may hear the echoes of that same call, urging us to respond promptly and wholeheartedly to the divine invitation.  Jesus calls us to a life of discipleship, to follow Him with courage and conviction.  Simon, Andrew, James, and John provide us with inspiring models of immediate obedience.  Without hesitation they leave their nets and professions in order to follow Jesus.  Their response challenges us to examine our own readiness to abandon whatever may be holding us back from fully embracing our calling.

The metaphor of fishers of men calls us to engage actively in the mission of spreading God’s love and compassion.  We are called not merely to catch fish, but to cultivate relationships, to cast the net of love and inclusion.  This mission beckons us to be present in our communities, reaching out to those who may be lost or in need of hope and help.

A story was told about a pious Christian lady who had to do a lot of traveling for her business, so she did a lot of flying.  But flying made her nervous, so she always took her Bible along with her to read, and it helped her to relax.  One day she was sitting next to a man who didn’t believe in God.  When he saw her pull out her Bible, he gave a little chuckle and went back to what he was doing.  After a while, he turned to her and asked, “Do you really believe all the stuff in there?”  The lady replied, “Of course I do.  It’s the Bible – the Word of God.”   The man said, “Well, what about that guy that was swallowed by that whale?”  She replied, “Oh. Jonah.  Yes, I believe that.  The Bible says that Jonah was swallowed by a whale, and I believe it, and if it had said that Jonah had swallowed the whale, I would believe that too.”  The man laughed and asked, “Well, how do you suppose he survived all that time inside the whale?”  The lady answered, “Well, I don’t really know, but I guess when I get to heaven, I will ask him.”  “What if he is not in heaven?” the man asked sarcastically.  “Then you can ask him when you reach hell,” the lady replied.

Brothers and sisters, in the first reading, we encountered Jonah’s mission to Ninevah.  Here, too, we witnessed the transformative power of responding to God’s call.  The people of Ninevah heed Jonah’s warning and repent.  This reminds us that our response to God’s call can have a profound impact, not only on our lives, but on the lives of those around us.

In fact, the entire readings of today’s liturgy emphasize the absolute need for total repentance and our immediate need for a quick and prompt response to God’s invitation to repentance.  Whereby, we face God’s wrath of perpetual destruction in hellfire should we ever play down the entire content of divine revelation, seeking our redress as portrayed in the funny response of the pious traveler to the atheist in the story.

In the second reading, St. Paul orders the Corinthian Church to waste no time in embracing the message of the Good News and in renewing their lives with repentance.  Whereas, the gospel reading describes the summary of Jesus’ preaching, “Repent, and believe in the Good News.”  It also describes how Jesus called His first set of disciples, Andrew, Peter, James, and John, which portrays how we sinners need to respond to God’s call with total commitment by abandoning our accustomed style of sinful life.

Today’s readings are all rather extraordinary.  Each of them shows an immediate and wonderful response.  First Jonah preaches, and the Ninevites surprisingly repent and change immediately.  Then Paul calls upon everyone to live in the immediate moment, for the day of the Lord is imminent.  Then Jesus calls His disciples, and they leave immediately.

Jesus’ call is offering a whole new world, a new vision and a new set of relationships.  The values of the Gospel are revealed in their fullness.  If the disciples had paused and thought about what they were doing, they could have dreamed up heaps of reasons why they should not go – their business, their insecurities, and so on.  They did not let these things get in the way.

Thank goodness they responded to the call straightaway.  This is not encouraging recklessness, because surely Jesus called people after a lot of prayer and discernment, and He called disciples whom He had observed were already living in the way that showed their longing for the value of the Kingdom to be established in its fullness. Along comes Jesus and He says, “The time has arrived.  Come, follow me.”  And they do – immediately.  It is what they had been waiting for.

In our lives, brothers and sisters, Jesus calls each one of us in big and small ways.  In the daily events of life, in our words, actions, and priorities, let us respond immediately and with trust.  As we reflect on the readings today, let us prayerfully consider the nature of God’s call in our lives.  Are we attuned to His voice?  Are we ready to leave behind our nets and respond with unwavering trust?  May the example of the first disciples inspire us to embrace our calling with joy and purpose, recognizing that in our response lies the potential for transformation, both for ourselves and for the world.

The Invitation

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time
January 14, 2024 — Year B
Readings: 1 Sm 3:3b-10, 19 / Ps 40 / 1 Cor 6:13c-15a, 17-20 / Jn 1:35-42
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

As we gather on this Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, the readings invite us to contemplate the significance of responding to God’s call and recognizing Jesus as the Lamb of God. The scriptures today beckon us to explore the depths of our own hearts considering how we, like the disciples of old, respond when God calls us. How often do we pause in the midst of our busy lives to discern God’s voice, to recognize His call amidst the noise of the world?

In the first reading Samuel hears the voice of God calling him in the night. Initially he mistakes the call for that of Eli, his mentor and priest. However, as he discerns the voice, Samuel realizes it is the Lord reaching out to him.

Just like in our lives, too, God’s call may sometimes be subtle, easily mistaken for the familiar voices around us. Samuel’s response echoes the sentiment of recognizing and responding to God’s call. Here am I Lord, I come to do your will.

The psalmist declares the simple, yet profound statement that encapsulates the essence of discipleship; a readiness to align our will with God’s will, a willingness to respond to His call with a resounding “yes.” It challenges us to examine our own hearts and ask if we are truly open to doing the will of God even when it diverges from our plans and desires in life.

In the gospel reading, we encountered the scene of Jesus being identified as the Lamb of God by John the Baptist. Two disciples, upon hearing this proclamation, decide to follow Jesus. When Jesus turns and asks them, “What are you looking for?” it prompts us to reflect on our own motivations for seeking Him. Are we following Jesus merely for personal gain, or are we sincerely seeking the transformative encounter that comes with recognizing him as the Lamb of God, the one who takes away the sins of the world?

We are presented with a powerful narrative that invites us to reflect on the transformative nature of encountering Jesus and responding to His invitation. This passage unfolds with the testimony of John the Baptist, as he points out Jesus to his disciples, setting in motion a series of events that revealed the depth of discipleship.

“Rabbi where are you staying?” they asked Jesus. It’s a simple yet profound inquiry. In their question lies the recognition that Jesus is more than just a passing figure. He’s someone worth knowing intimately, understanding where He abides and by extension, where He invites them to dwell.

Jesus responds with an invitation that reverberates through the ages, “Come and you will see.” These words encapsulate the essence of discipleship. An invitation to experience, to witness, to dwell in the presence of the One who is the source of life and love. It is an invitation not just to observe from a distance, but to engage personally and intimately with the teacher.

The disciples accept the invitation, and what follows is a transformative encounter. They spend time with Jesus, learning from Him, experiencing His presence, and allowing their lives to be shaped by His teachings. One of the disciples, Andrew, is so moved by this encounter that he seeks out his brother Simon and declares, “We have found the Messiah!” It is a powerful passage.

We find an invitation echoed throughout the ages. Jesus is calling each of us to come and see, to experience His transformative presence. It prompts us to ask ourselves, have we, like the disciples, responded to the call to seek Jesus, to dwell in His presence, and to witness the depth of His teachings?

Moreover, the passage challenges us to be like Andrew, sharing the good news of our encounter with Jesus with others. In our daily lives, are we actively inviting those around us to come and see, to experience the life-changing presence of the Messiah?

Jesus calls us to the primary vocation of being servants and disciples of Christ in our daily lives and work. We achieve this by staying very close to Jesus in prayer, in scripture reflection, in reading about the teachings of Christ, in worshipping regularly, in union with the Christian community, and learning from the teachings of the Church. Christ must live in and with us as we with Him. It is a deep and wonderful connection that we are invited into. Each one of us today is called by Jesus and our response like Samuel’s is, “Here I am Lord, I come to do your will.”

Just as Jesus received opposition, misunderstanding, and rejection, so too, can we expect this for Christ’s Church, but we keep persisting in this life-giving message. Inspired by today’s second reading, we recognize that Christ and His Church have a rather powerful and different view of the human person and the human body than do some sectors of the world.

Saint Paul sums up this gospel understanding, “You know surely that your bodies are members making up the body of Christ. Anyone who is joined to the Lord is one spirit with Him. Your body, you know, is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, since you received Him from God. You are not your own property. You’ve been bought and paid for by Christ’s life, death, and resurrection. That is why you should use your body for the glory of God.”

At its essence, this is extremely positive and encouraging teaching. To put ourselves — mind, body and spirit — at the service of God and God’s vision, our lives are to be lived with intention, not so much rights, but responsibilities.

As we continue our Mass today, let us open our hearts to the invitation of Jesus. Let us respond with a sincere desire to dwell in His presence, to learn from Him, and to share the transformative power of encountering the Lamb of God with those around us. May this passage inspire us to be not just followers at a distance, but active participants in the journey of discipleship guided by the teachings of our Rabbi Jesus Christ. In the ordinary moments of our lives, may we find the extraordinary grace to recognize and respond to God’s call. Let us embrace the invitation to follow Jesus, the Lamb of God, with sincerity and openness, trusting that in doing so, we will discover the abundant life He promises to those who respond with faith and love. May Jesus Christ be praised.

Kings and Angels

The Epiphany of the Lord
January 7, 2024 — Year B
Readings: Is 60:1-6 / Ps 72 / Eph 3:2-3a, 5-6 / Mt 2:1-12
by Rev. Dan Kelly, Guest Celebrant

In the first reading that we heard today, we heard Isaiah say “Rise up in splendor, Jerusalem.  Your light has come.”  This is really important to us on this feast of Epiphany.  “See, darkness covers the earth, and thick clouds cover the peoples.”   We can also see that too, in the turmoil we find on earth today:  the wars, the sadness, the destruction, even in our own country where there is intolerance and all kinds of violence, breaking into stores and wreaking all kinds of havoc.  But we find in that first reading, “Nations shall walk by your light, and kings by your shining radiance. Raise your eyes,” Isaiah tells us, “And look about; they all gather and come to you.”

This first reading is a sign of hope for us, and there are other signs of hope that we have.  I’m going to remind you of some things that I don’t think the children have ever heard.

When I was a youngster, growing up in a certain town, there was a planetarium.  This particular planetarium was in a science museum, called the Franklin Institute, and that was the Fels Planetarium.  My mom and dad took all five of us sons (we had no sisters) when I was just a young lad.

The first thing that we saw when we went into the Franklin Institute was a huge ball, hanging from a cable rising five stories high to the dome at the top.  That ball was slowly moving back and forth in slow circles.  It was a pendulum.  There were little pegs all around a circle set up at the bottom of this huge ball, which probably weighed close to a ton.  At the bottom of the ball there was a little peg, like a little spike, hanging down, and that ball would swing over and knock down the pegs.  It would knock down a peg twenty-four times; every hour it would strike down another one until twenty-four hours had gone by.  Early in the morning, workmen had to come out there where all the pegs had been knocked down.  They had to stop that ball – Maybe it took four men to grab hold of it and slowly stop it.  They would set up new pegs, and then let it go.  Thus it marked the hours of the day and the rotation of our earth on its axis.  It was a wonderful visual sight to see, and as a child, I was utterly amazed.

Now I’m going to move you on in that same Franklin Institute to another place.  There was a huge theater, and this theater was domelike, larger than our church, and it had seating all around it, with a projector.  That projector would shine onto the ceiling above, and form sights in the sky.  The astronomers and technicians could display anything that they wanted to show.  So, you went in there and took your seats, and everyone was chatting, just like we do coming into the church, chatting in the foyer.  And then we get into church, and then we’re quiet because we’re meditating.  And then the lights start to go dim.  The lights in the enormous dome would continue to get dimmer until it got so black you couldn’t see the hand in front of your face.  Those experiences were meant to draw attention to something special.  One of the announcers would say, “You can’t see your hands.  It’s like nothingness.”  So, you might wonder what the universe was like.

We were visiting the planetarium in that season between Christmas and the Epiphany.  They had decided to put up the sky as it might have appeared when those first pilgrims from other countries – the three Magi – were following a star.  They began to explain that, and then you would see the stars appear within this dome, with one star moving very slowly.  They would recount the events as described in the Bible, and it brought home to us, not only the enormity of the universe, but also a fact of our own faith that we are living by.

We know who those three pilgrims, those Magi or kings or philosophers were.  They might have been studying all kinds of things.  They came from other countries; we don’t know where they came from, as the Bible doesn’t tell us that.  But sometimes our Nativity scenes may show one from Ethiopia, another from Persia, and another from Arabia.  We don’t know all that, but they did not work together until they met on a similar type of pilgrimage.  They were all seeing this star moving that they had not seen before.  After all, they were astronomers; they were philosophers, and they knew what they were looking for.

Later on (not found in the Bible), names were given to them: Balthazar, Melchior, and Casper. They went to King Herod, who was in charge of that whole area, because they wanted to find out if he knew anything.   They had heard that there was a new king to be born, and they were following his star.  As we read in Holy Scripture today, they were overjoyed at seeing the star and stopped at the place where the child was.  Herod said, “Oh, this is wonderful news.  Go and find out where he is and come back and report to me so that I may go and worship him, too.”

King Herod was not a good man; he was a very evil king.  He was jealous, he was threatened that there was another child to be born who might be king of all this land.  Why are we celebrating the feast of the Epiphany?  You might think that, next to Christmas, it couldn’t be too important.  Epiphany is like we heard from Isaiah in the first reading today:  The light will shine down upon you.

They went and found the child, and it is said they prostrated themselves before the child.  Now, if we look at our manger scene, we see the three kings. We see the scene there, but we don’t see them prostrated.  We know what “prostration” is. Prostration is when you lie down flat on your stomach, head down, feet down.  The only time we see a prostration in our liturgy in the Catholic Church is on Good Friday, when the Passion is being read.  The priest comes in, and, if there’s a deacon with him, the deacon will join him.  And the priest will prostrate, lay flat down, on Good Friday before the Passion is read, and meditate for a few moments.  It’s quite a dramatic, silent scene.

So, we have this story and the image that we have from today. They arrived in Jerusalem, but then were warned in a dream, as we heard in the gospel, not to return to Herod.  What did Herod do?  You know, after Christmas, we have two feast days, days of martyrs.  The first day after Christmas is the martyrdom of Saint Stephen, the first martyr.  And then the next is the Feast of the Holy Innocents.  Because what Herod did was, when the Three Magi didn’t return to him, he ordered his soldiers to go and kill (terrible thought!) every baby boy two years of age or younger.  I don’t want to bring horror to you.  I want you to know what evil is; what the killing of the innocents is.  The Church even helps us to meditate upon that, and we read about that in Scripture.  There must have been a wailing throughout that area of mothers and fathers as soldiers went through, taking these baby boys.  Why?  Because Herod did not want a king to come in his place.

We celebrate that the infant king Jesus survived.  God sent the archangel Gabriel to help with this.  We have four archangels.  You remember three of them:  Raphael, Gabriel, Michael, and the fourth one, who didn’t turn out so well:  Lucifer.  It is Lucifer who was driving the madness of King Herod.

Gabriel is the one who appeared to Mary many months before the birth of her child and said, “You are going to have a child.”  Mary is only engaged. She’s planning on her marriage to Joseph.  She says, “How can this be, because I don’t yet have a husband?” Joseph was going to quietly divorce her, so that there wouldn’t be any scandal.  But then, during his sleep, the angel Gabriel, a very busy archangel, woke up Joseph and said, “Joseph, do not be afraid to take this child into your home to be your wife, because the child is a gift of God, a creation of God, the Holy Spirit.”

Later on, a child is born, and then Herod is letting out the order to kill all these baby boys less than two years of age.  The angel Gabriel comes to Joseph again, the father of that family – foster father – and says, “Quick, take the baby and his mother and go to Egypt, a distant country. Go to Egypt and stay there until I tell you to come back.”

We know approximately when Joseph, Mary and the child Jesus left Egypt and returned on this long, long trek back to Nazareth.  They had left Nazareth, gone to Bethlehem so that Joseph could register and pay his tax, and that’s where the baby was born.  Then they went further away from Nazareth and Bethlehem to Egypt.  Do you know when they came back?  It was seven years.  How do we know that?  A lot of research was done many years ago, and it was seven years simply because that’s when the threat was gone:  Herod died.

We know, unfortunately, that Herod’s death is not the end of the evil that happens, but it’s the starting of a new life.  Joseph, Mary and their young son now about seven years of age, started their long trek all the way back from Egypt, trekking back through Bethlehem, passing by Jerusalem, and the other sixty-five or seventy miles more to get up to Nazareth, to live out their lives, where Jesus would learn by going to synagogue.

When I was young, my father and mother took us to that planetarium.  Later on, I became interested in joining the Boy Scouts, but there was no scouting in the parish where I lived in the city.  My good friend, says, “You could come and join the Sea Scouts.”  Well, I knew very well there were Sea Scouts around.  They were not as plentiful as the Boy Scouts.  But after all, at that time my brother was in the Navy, my father had been in the Navy in the First World War, and so, I said, “Yeah, that’s a good idea!”  I went up there and, on the Delaware River, there were about thirteen – we called them “ships,” and they were the bunkhouses for each group of boys who were in the Sea Scouts.  We learned all kinds of things nautical.  Once a month Rabbi came and gave us wonderful readings from the Scriptures, from the Bible, and gave us animated talks that young boys would really need growing up:  how to behave, how to have fun, how to be good sons to your parents and good brothers to your brothers and sisters.

So, those were some experiences that I had growing up, and it all started with a memory of a father and mother who wanted to take their children to this particular museum, years ago when I was still a little pup, amazed at the pendulum, and amazed at the sky shown in that theater on a feast of the Epiphany.

Family Love

Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph
December 31, 2023 — Year B
Readings: Sir 3:2-6, 12-14 / Ps 128 / Col 3:12-21 / Lk 2:22-40
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Our readings today from Sirach, Colossians, and Luke present a harmonious theme that revolves around the dynamics of family, relationships, and the virtues that foster a harmonious and godly life.

In Sirach, we are reminded of the honor and respect due to parents. The call to honor your father and mother is not just a cultural or societal norm but is deeply embedded in the divine order. It reflects a recognition of the role parents play in our lives and the wisdom they can impart. The passage also emphasizes the importance of kindness, which extends beyond familial relationships to the broader community.

The letter of Saint Paul to the Colossians provides a practical guide for Christian living within the context of family and community. The virtues of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, patience, and forgiveness are highlighted as essential for maintaining the unity and peace of the Christian community. Above all, the apostle Paul underscores the central role of love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. The passage challenges us to live out our faith not only in public worship, but also in the intimate spaces of our homes and relationships.

The gospel reading from Luke introduces the presentation of Jesus in the temple and the devout figures of Simeon and Anna. Simeon, filled with the Holy Spirit, recognizes Jesus as the fulfillment of God’s promise and a light for all nations. Anna the prophetess adds her voice to the praise and thanksgiving. This encounter in the temple symbolizes the dedication of the Holy Family to God’s plan and the broader significance of Jesus’ mission for all people.

As we continue our journey through Christmas season, this feast of the Holy Family is an important celebration straight after the feast of the Nativity of the Lord and within the octave of Christmas.

There is a story of a man who tried to follow in the footsteps of Santa Claus by giving out gifts to strangers every Christmas. When asked why he wanted to be like Santa, he said, “I grew up in an orphanage. Every Christmas I visit homes and hand out gifts to children and adults alike with the hope that I would eventually find my parents, meet my family, or at least touch the hearts of other families.”

At this time of the year, we give sincere thanks for the love, nurturing, and support that our family can give us, and the love, example, and intersection that the Holy Family gives us on our journey through life. We think of our parents’ and family’s countless acts of kindness, love, and sacrifices. When we were young, we probably didn’t appreciate the scale of it all. When we get older and have our own families or watch with admiration our brothers and sisters and friends raising their own families, we start to appreciate what our parents must have given and sacrificed out of love, and we are truly grateful for this.

We are also very mindful of people whose family life has been extremely difficult, and who did not have that support that others take for granted. That is, not everyone in this world has been blessed with an unconditionally loving and accepting family who support one another.

We give thanks to mentors and all people who have been good role models and sources of care and protection for the young. These people have been family to others, beyond the ties of blood. We keep in mind currently families worldwide who’ve had it really tough this year, perhaps due to illness, distance, separation, financial hardship, and worries.

The Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph are the patron saints supporting each other and sticking together when everything is going wrong around them. For example, when we look closely at the very first Christmas, we quickly see that life for the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph was anything but smooth sailing.

The joy and hope of this celebration comes from the fact that God came into our world and made a home with us when everything was going badly for the world. The first Christmas came at a time of incredible unrest for the people of Israel who were suffering under the foreign domination of a pagan empire. They had values quite opposed to and different from many of the sacred religious values of the Jewish people.

Mary and Joseph are forced to take a terribly difficult trip to Bethlehem when Mary is imminently due to give birth. This would have been a difficult trip at the best of times, but it must have been extremely difficult for an expectant mother at the end of her term. They arrive at their ancestral hometown, and there is nowhere to stay. They are forced to sleep in a barn, and Mary gives birth to a baby surrounded by animals. The baby is placed in a food trough where the animals normally eat. The shepherds, some of the poorest and lowest outcasts in society, are the first to hear about the birth and come to pay their respects.

Mary and Joseph also had countless incidents when they had just to trust in what God was doing and all the while were plunged into confusion about what it all meant. They trusted in God and supported each other especially when things were unclear and did not make any sense to them, and this made all the difference.

The celebration of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph offers a poignant moment to reflect on the significance of family life and the virtues exemplified by the Holy Family. In contemplating the life of Jesus, Mary and Joseph, we find a model for love, unity, and faithfulness that resonates across the ages. At the heart of the Holy Family is a profound sense of love and sacrificial service.

Joseph’s unwavering commitment to Mary and Jesus, even in the face of uncertainty and challenges, speaks to the strength that comes from selfless love. In Mary, we see a mother who treasured and pondered the mysteries of her son’s life, embodying the qualities of contemplation and deep faith. Jesus, the son of God, chose to enter the human experience, growing up within the embrace of a human family.

This feast invites us to consider the sacredness of our own families and the responsibilities that come with it. In a world that sometimes seems to devalue the institution of the family, the Holy Family stands as a beacon of hope, and a reminder of the importance of cultivating love, respect, and unity within our own home.

As we reflect on the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph we are called to strengthen the bonds of love within our families, to prioritize faith in the face of challenges, and to embrace the sacredness of the family unit. Whether our families are nuclear or extended, biological or spiritual, the virtues embodied by the Holy Family of love, trust, and faithfulness, serve as a timeless guide for building strong and resilient families that reflect the love of God in our world.

May the Holy Family inspire us to cultivate holiness within our homes and to be a source of light and love for others. In a world often marked by division and discord, these readings offer a counter narrative of unity, love, and mutual support within the family and the Christian community. They challenge us to embody the virtues of Christ in our daily interactions, extending compassion and forgiveness to those closest to us and to the wider circle of humanity. As we celebrate the Holy Family, we strive to emulate their virtues, creating homes and communities that reflect the love and harmony of God’s Kingdom. The Holy Family is our inspiration and prayerful support.

At this fifth day within the Christmas season, we give sincere and heartfelt thanks for family, and the support and strength we can give each other along life’s long journey with all these joys and sorrows, graces, and temptations. Holy Family of Jesus and Mary and Joseph, pray for us. May Jesus Christ be praised.

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.