Keynotes for December 2007

December 2, 2007
First Sunday of Advent

Isaiah2:1-5
Romans 13:11-14
Matthew 24:37-44

To open a new liturgical year, what word-to-the-wise could be more comprehensive than the Vigilance Imperative from our Lord himself? Today his exhortation, "Stay awake," echoes once more throughout our churches. This is the day designated for us to hear again the clarion call to our salvation. It has to be repeated. We have to learn what it means. We must come to recite it, day after day, hour after hour. Why? Because when Jesus died for our sins and rose from the dead, he finished his job once and for all. But time went on. And the passage of time often washes away the message with those tides of indifference to which we succumb. Look at Noah's peers, says Jesus. . . .

eating and drinking,
marrying and giving in marriage,
up to the day that Noah entered the ark.

Too busy with their entertainments, relentless in pursuit of pleasure, eager for (Paul's words) "the desires of the flesh," so preoccupied with the world's fascinations and all "the works of darkness" that they became impervious, stupified, numbed to any spirit within themselves. Throughout the Old Testament God had a chronic problem with the drifting inattentiveness of His subjects. But then Jesus came to implant the life of his Spirit permanently, in hopes of reaping a great harvest upon his final return. Today that harvest is us. Today we are the fruit of his labors and the victory of his cross. But are our souls any more free from drowsiness? Any less susceptible to the soporific effects of sin? Perhaps we have already been swept back into the sea of indifference and don't even know it. What does the reveille from Jesus sound like to you?. Are there any among us who still strain to preserve a watchfulness that, when his final surprise visit hits, will prove to be their saving grace? In Jesus' parable the master of the house stayed braced for the intruder merely to prevent loss. For us the loss will not be of possessions, but rather a potential deprivation of the great reward itself, ie denial of entry into the eternal life we were promised. Listen to Paul:

You know the time;
it is the hour now for you to awake from sleep.
For our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed;
the night is advanced, the day is at hand.

If that applied to the Romans then, how much more should it mean to us now? The watchfulness that Jesus expects of us is tantamount to our persisent consciousness of everything that matters to him.

In Isaiah's prophecy we are treated to a kind of teleological vision of what our final destination might be like. Teleology is the study of designs in natural phenomena to detect the ends to which they are directed and the purposes for which they are shaped. In this vision the mountains have cooperated to establish the Lord's house among their peaks. The peoples from all nations know instinctively that God is not going to bring paradise down to them; they must struggle upward, climb to the abode of his presence. As a result of the Lord's instructions and judgments they shall come to experience a peace and harmony that surpasses all understanding. Their journey thenceforth will be a leisurely stroll along the Lord's paths, one guided by His light. The prophet draws on natural phenomena, of people and mountains, of walking and climbing, and especially of sunlight, to get us to focus on that imponderable event: life eternal.And such a vision can inculcate in our minds a habit of seeing among all the natural phenomena of our daily lives that same design, end and purpose. It raises our vigilance to a new and indispensable intensity.

Because now that the course for our salvation has been set, Jesus has determined that he shall reappear by coming unannounced, at the hour when we least expect him. Our best means of preparation, therefore, is to "put on the armour of light," as Paul advises. Paul is speaking about the conscious habit of the soul alerted to conduct itself as though it had already gone beyond death and assumed Life in the divine presence. How eager are we to imagine ourselves in this future condition?

Just how important to Jesus is our practice of vigilance? Well, we have understood from the outset that it was never merely suggested, or left up to us as an option. Each time one of the synoptic gospels reiterates the message it gives us pause. On the cusp of being arrested, Jeus turns to the sleeping apostles with "How is it that you three were not able to keep watch with me for even one hour? Keep watch and pray that you will not fall into temptation" (Matt26:40-41). When asked about the end times, Jesus raises the horrors of battles, earthquakes, persecutions, betrayals. Then he cautions, "Be on watch, be alert, for you do not know when the time will come. . . Watch, then, for you do not know when the master of the house is coming. If he comes suddenly, he must not find you asleep.What I say to you, then, I say to all: Watch!"(Mark13:33-37). In Luke's account Jesus uses disobedient servants to make the point: "How happy are those servants whose master finds them awake and ready when he returns." (Luke12:37) This is the parable which ends with dire punishment for those who don't comply. Jesus could not be more emphatic unless he resorted outright to the tactics of an alarmist. So, if the vigilance warning does make you shudder, then let it move you to think about what he has at stake. And whenever the languor of indifference tries to capture you, stop and focus on what you have
at stake.

December 9, 2007
Second Sunday of Advent

Isaiah 11:1-10
Romans 15:4-9
Matt3:1-12

Isaiah foresees that the Messiah will be a leader of great knowledge and wisdom, one who will champion peace and justice among his chosen people. This decendent from David's progeny will be "set up as a signal for the nations;" the Gentiles will seek him out for

he shall judge the poor with justice
and decide aright for the land's afflicted.

All nations shall stand in awe of a peaceable kingdom to be effected by this Messiah. Isaiah goes on to describe a reign wherein even the most predatory of animals lives side by side as harmless neighbor to his prey. It was this prophet's fantasy. But God had a different idea.

John the Baptist prefigures the Messiah to be a radical reformer who will divide every camp, whether they be Jews or Gentiles, into rival believers and non-believers. John picks up the role of precursor where Isaiah left off, but he does not perpetuate Isaiah's cherished notion that this leader will be reserved for the Jews. If John had thought so, he would have shown deference to the leaders instead of denouncing them as a "brood of vipers." John envisions a Savior who will wield a winnowing fan, clear his threshing floor, gather his wheat into the barn, and "baptize. . . with the Holy Spirit and fire." John knows the Pharisees and Sadducees have come out to undermine him, not to practice penance. They are not there for baptism or to reform their lives. They are just hedging their bets as they mingle among the crowd. So in keeping with prophetic tradition he provokes them with "Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath?" The Messiah he represents will brook no interlopers or fence stradlers. Your allegiance must either be one hundred percent, or you will oppose him, regardless of your origin. But then again, God had a somewhat different idea.

Paul came after Jesus the Christ, as a witness to what He stood for and what He accomplished. Paul was among the earliest to recognize that this Messiah had brought neither a peaceable kingdom nor total unity to the Jewish people. His presence induced no massive conversions among the inhabitants of the nations. What Paul realized was that the changing of a righteous people into a holy people would come out of long, ongoing instruction, not happen in some sudden, wholesale transformation. Jesus, not the Jewish race, became Paul's examplar, that is, this person of two natures who was both divine and human, the One therefore singular and unique. Paul demonstrated how Jesus while remaining faithful to his own people simultaneously reached out to all the tribes of the world.

For I say that Christ became a minister of the circumcised
to show God's truthfulness,
to confirm the promises to the patriarchs,
but so that the Gentiles might glorify God for his mercy.

Paul understood how the promises to the patriarchs were fulfilled by a God with a different idea.

Now, when it comes down to you and me, is it not reasonable to assume that God's ideas are still other than what we think they are? Isaiah, John and Paul, each prophet promulgated a prototype of what he thought the Messiah should be and do. And the Messiah who actually comes turns out to be a savior in a sense other than what they had articulated. What the real Messiah did by intervening in each of their lives was to transform each of them. Many of Isaiah's messages and promises went unfulfilled, not because God let his people down, but because they failed to listen. Yet the Lord stood by Isaiah. John brought crowds to repentance early in his career, was imprisoned later, and then with no warning sent to martyrdom. Paul applied his efforts tirelessly to build up the church congregations of the middle East. But his Roman citizenship exerted no political influence other than his right to choose the means to his own execution. Thus did the Messiah for his advocates come to mean personal savior.

How do your and my definitions of Jesus the Messiah make us look? And what will they lead to? The prophets delivered compelling oracles with soul-searing messages, and whoever took them to heart came to realize they had decisions to make. Today Jesus looks to intervene in our lives. He wants us for his advocates. He realizes that our concept of him will be earthbound, that our expectations will not match up with who he really is. Yet he calls us, not because he needs more spokesmen for himself, but rather so that we will allow him to shape and guide and transform our lives. Come, oh come, Emmanuel.

.

December 16, 2007
Third Sunday of Advent

Isaiah 35:1-6a,10
James 5:7-10
Matthew.11:2-11

Gaudete! "Rejoice in the Lord, always; again I say, rejoice!" Of the candles on the Advent wreath, three are purple. The fourth, a pink one, is lighted on this Sunday of rejoicing. It's color coordinates with the rose vestment worn by the priest on this Gaudete Sunday. When I was a kid, I used to wonder what the rejoicing was all about. Now that I am old enough to march in the ranks of chronic complainers, I am beginning to understand.

Human inadequacies, faults, imperfections, and ignorance are their own half of the equation: right, just and fitting for offsetting and instilling a yearning for the other half, which is the growth, development (and even aging) that each of us embraces so as to attain the fullness of our created potentials. The letter from St. James would suggest that these human deficiencies are very natural and necessary tests, to help us overcome adversity and hardship and to teach us patience. "See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth," he writes, "being patient with it until it receives the early and late rains." Yes, just wait it out and let it happen. Those stubby little sprouts will soon turn into full blown plants, tall and stout and laden with produce. Shortcomings have to be the seedbed of our hopes and eventually the causes of our joy.

John in prison is cast down from his role as forerunner, assailed by doubts,
and wondering if the major thrust of his life has been misspent. But look at how upbeat Jesus is with his answer to the question brought by John's disciples. Jesus exults, in effect, that God has found a way to be united to His favorite creatures. These dispossessed are not daunted by His majesty, nor threatened by His awesome power, nor overly fearful of His wrath.The disadvantaged are as open to God as children; they accept him as a man, one as plain and simple as themselves. For he has come to champion their injustices and uplift them from oppression. John in jail has no reason to feel despondent, for the One who uses our vulnerabilities to raise us up is now among his people. John should also spring up and dance in delight, for the One whose coming he has proclaimed will indeed liberate all of mankind. John just does not know it yet, but an astonishing euphoria will one day overwhelm him. He will be elated at his place in the kingdom. Why? Because he went all out to conquer the ineptitude of his fellow man. Without whining or belly aching he preached and prayed and admonished and fasted, not just among the destitute and handicapped, but among the toughest defectors of all--the stubbornly sinful!!

The implication that underlies Psalm 146 is this: If we had no deficiencies,
would we need God at all? If no one were blind, whose sight would God
correct? Without those bowed down and oppressed, whom would be left to
be raised up and justice secured for? And other than human inadequacies,
what could we possibly bemoan, or complain about? John's disciples seem to approach Jesus like school yard kids with chips on their shoulders. They were critical of Jesus because things were not going well for John and Jesus was apparently doing nothing to help. But right here Jesus pierces through the nature of the Gripe to expose its secret: that our very weaknesses are what draw God to us and ourselves to Him. Aha, so it is from the deep well of our own infirmities that the fountain of our joy bubbles up.

This Sunday we find Isaiah in a joyful song that begins its ascent toward everlasting fulfillment with a crescendo of promises. The Lord's forthcoming glory at Lebanon, his splendor to be revealed at Carmel and Sharon, these again have their source and origin in the weak and feeble. But listen and see if you can hear any strains of disappointment or lament in this verse?

Then will the eyes of the blind be opened,
the ears of the deaf will be cleared;
then will the lame leap like a stag,
then the tongue of the mute will sing.

The advent of our God so fills us with expectation that there is simply no
thought of, nor room nor time for grumbling or foot dragging. The more experience we gain, the more we grow and mature, the more we realize how irrelevant and silly belly aching really is! Maybe it has a place in the lives of children, because it is vital to their own well being to develope a keen sense of discrepancy. But, for us adults, the advice coming from St. James covers it all:

Do not complain, brothers sand sisters, about one another,
that you may not be judged.
Behold, the Judge is standing before the gates.

The closer we come to the gates, the more we comprehend how inadequate, defective and unprepared we trully are. But that does not daunt us, because
now we also have assurances of the marvels that God can draw out of our infirmities, when He so chooses. Therefore, with spirits pumped up for Gaudete Sunday morning, we are ready to step into the entrance procession before Mass and sing the incantation with our loudest voice:
Rejoice in the Lord always;

again I say, rejoice!
The Lord is near (Philippians4:4-5)

December 23, 2007
Fourth Sunday of Advent

Isaiah7:10-14
Romans1:1-7
Matthew1:18-24

Joseph was reluctant to take Mary his wife into his home. Ahaz was reluctant
to ask the Lord for a sign. Paul's Romans, we surmise, were reluctant to answer the call to holiness, the Jews among them moreso than the Gentiles. Paul is obviously trying to get some standoffish converts to commit their lives to Jesus Christ. What is going on here? It is as though they all have gathered in the gloom of the foothills, to gaze at the far off peaks and to mumble the Psalmist's mantra:

Who can ascend the mountain of the Lord?
or who may stand in his holy place?

Even to the major figures in Scriptures there were times when God seemed unapproachable, and sometimes in our own lives He still comes across as that foreign, mysterious Being whose awesome presence we want to avoid. Yet when we face the truth, we discover the reverse of this situation! Behind the scenes God actually pursues us with all the ardor of an infatuated lover. He is not the aloof One. It is we who withdraw from His advances. It is ourselves who give Him the cold shoulder, despite His persistent wooing of us. To the Psalmist the Lord's dwelling is not a dreadful place but one full of invitation. So who is worthy of admission into His presence, we ask?
One whose hands are sinless, whose heart is clean. Who desires not what is vain. God demands neither ambassadorial qualifications nor impeccable credentials. He is so eager to retrieve us from our fallen state and to lift us up that he chose a means beyond the wildest of human dreams to ingratiate Himself with every one of us. He impregnated a special woman with the soul of His only begotten Son, a tiny, loveable baby boy, so helpless, so harmless, of such irresistible sweetness as never to frighten anyone away. Thus the Christmas story tells not merely the wonder of God's allure. It also reveals how desireable we are to Him, and redirects us to overcome our reluctance.

The Lord bids Ahaz to ask for a sign, that a king be chosen from the house of David. When Ahaz refuses, the Israelites garner from Isaiah's prophecy an
inkling of what the Lord really has in mind, that a "virgin shall conceive, and
bear a son, and shall name him Emmanuel." God as a human being living among them was more than they could fathom then, but eventually their nation would rise to the challenge, and God would give them the grace to do so. Later, Paul would struggle to involve the Romans with that same challenge, to convince them the glad tidings of the gospel were a message they must embrace.

Through him we have received the grace of apostleship,
to bring about the obedience of faith. . .
he declares. To be tapped for a mission so glorious as this, they had to be
shaken free from whatever was holding them back.

Because the social mores of Joseph's people inhibited him and the unexplained pregnancy of his wife had made him anxious, he too had to be set free, this time in a dream by an angel. What a drastic change his self esteem must have endured, to be asked to be the step-father of the Savior of the world. To take for his earthly spouse the one who would eventually be Queen of heaven! How does an obscure, self-effacing carpenter in a minor province of the Roman Empire handle all this? We are witnesses again this season to the journeys that draw the very best out of Joseph's character: the travel to Bethlehem, the flight into Egypt, the return to Nazareth. His commitment to wife and child through trial after trial showed forth an adamantine will. He behaved as though he knew the Relentless Lover was stalking them. As protector with clean hands, sinless heart, no vain desires, Joseph evinced "the right stuff" to step up and put into action the good news proclaimed by the angels. Francis Thompson's fugitive, who experienced all the ambivalences felt by Isaiah, Paul and Joseph, came to the conclusion that:

Fear wist not to evade, as Love wist to pursue.
The Hound of Heaven,

Today if we find ourselves despondent, mired in hesitation and futility, if we
feel that old urge to take refuge in the gloom of the foothills and vent our
despair with questions like,

Who can ascend the mountain of the Lord?
or who may stand in his holy place?

Then today we need only recognize, like Ahaz, that a sign is ours for the asking, that we are already drawn to Joseph's family and to Paul's Redeemer, for the heavenly Infant chases us with his disarming enchantment, and a fugitive out of fear is no match for Love's pursuit.
Such is the race that seeks for him that seeks the face of the God of Jacob.

December 25, 2007
Christmas

Isaiah62:1-5
Luke2:1-14
Luke2:15-20
Isaiah52:7-10

A bridegroom at the vigil, heavenly hosts at midnight, visitors at dawn, and a sentinel at daybreak. The four different theme-characters of the Christmas
Masses at the four designated hours are perhaps a signal that at this hour in history our ever provident and watchful God is telling us it is our turn now to become watchful and provident. Isaiah proclaims

as a bridegroom rejoices in his bride,
so shall your God rejoice in you.

The Father, about to bestow his Son upon us, the people of the world, is depicted as bursting with anticipation, like a young man about to be married.
He cannot contain Himself! His goodness must overflow! Yet, also like a
prudent bridegroom, He goes about his plan with patience and caution.
Because this event is so extraordinary (and can be intensely disturbing), He
lays careful plans with Joseph, the foster father. God keeps His promise. He brings to Isreal a Savior through these decendents of David: Mary and Joseph.

It is all done so unobtrusively, so inconspicuously. Blessed are the people
who can hear the joyful shout! The ever protective bridegroom shows how
we must begin to care for the helpless one entrusted to us.

At midnight, in affirmation of the glad tidings, a multitude of the heavenly host join the angel in the sky. A new born infant swaddled in a wrapping cloth and laid in a feeding trough commands no earthly pomp and circumstance. A celestial alert to simple minded shepherds is hint enough to all the world that the ones most welcomed will be the the powerless, the humbled, the lowliest. Those who watch their flocks and watch the stars are deemed most fit to keep watch over the manger.

Zion, you shall be called "frequented," a city that is not forsaken. The dawn
Mass opens with the prophet foretelling of crowds of visitors to the holy place in the ages to come. In imitation of the shepherds, they will come to verify what was foretold to them. These many visitors will someday broadcast the good news. They are not idle bystanders nor curiosity seekers, but a company come to undertake their new charge of concern for one another.

Zion, your sentinels raise a cry. Together they shout for joy. And above them
all is heard the voice of the Evangelist John boldly confirming that those who accept this Child are themselves accepted as God's other children, born of
God. From the sentinels on the watch the word goes forth: He who is born
today will someday take his seat at the right hand of the Majesty on high. Let all the angels of God worship him. All human beings on the globe now have a new responsibility and a new mandate to fulfill. Yes, the God of all eternity has always been on the watch for his creatures and has always provided for them.

By giiving us his Son, the Father now turns to us to ordain that with a show
of care for our fellow men we take him under our wing, and by providing for
their welfare, we usher them into the presence of his majesty on high.

December 30, 2007
The Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph

Sirach3:2-6,12-14
Colossians3:12-21
Matthew2:13-15,19-23

Then Herod, seeing that he had been tricked by the Magi,
was exceedingly angry; and he sent and slew all the boys
in Bethelehem and all its neighborhood who were two years
old or under, according to the time that he had carefully
ascertained from the Magi. Then was fulfilled what was spoken
through Jeremiah the prophet, A voice was heard in Rama,
weeping and loud lamentation; Rachel weeping for her
children, and she would not be comforted, because they are
no more. Matt2:16-18

This passage intervenes between the two from Matthew assigned for today's gospel. Herod's hasty and futile action, to summarily slaughter the innocent male infants, and Jeremiah's prophecy about the distraught Rachel, these events throw new light upon the ideals of family life that the Lord would have us adopt and adhere to. Through His carefull coaching of the Magi and Joseph, the Lord saw to it that the life of the infant Jesus was spared. But for what? So that later on this same adult Jesus could lay down his life for the sparing of us all. So that the sacrifice he made of himself could bring about our redemption. There is a dimension to family life in this that we seldom pay attention to, one from which arise the convictions and dedications that hold families together.

Sirach's account demonstrates the requisite wisdom: a child's duty to honor
and obey father, revere and comfort mother, take care of them in old age and be considerate especially when they are failing. The care given by such sons and daughters will reap a threefold reward: children of their own, their prayers heard, their sins forgoven. Sirach's writing is only a piece of a rich tradition into which Jesus was born. Even before his coming God's predeliction for the Jewish people had conferred upon Jewish family life a sense of the sacred, one maybe not so evident in other tribes or nations of the world. Then, in the family designated for His Son that sense of the sacred was intensified by the very holiness of the person who was that son, by the messianic mission his parents understood to be his purpose, and by their own awe at the extreme preciousness of God's gift to the human race committed to their care. This extra pressure of parental concern we witness when the boy of twelve got lost among relatives and was found in discourse with the temple teachers. But the degree to which Mary and Joseph were willing to put their own lives on the line, that comes across in such episodes as Joseph's taking charge of the flight into Egypt, and Mary's insistence on standing beside her son's cross as he hung in mortal agony.

Paul asks fathers to love their wives and children and to refrain from
provocation and bitterness so that family members do not become
discouraged. From wives and children in return he requires subordination and obedience. Paul is engaged in the task of establishing the church at Colossus, which is much like building a compound family. Here the expanding,
multiplying and complicating of relationships beyond consanguinity call for greater measures of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, patience, forbearance and mutual forgiveness. These all lead to the fullness of love, the bond of perfection, which points to holiness, the bond of glory. So Paul's counsel to husbands, wives and children aims at the nucleus of the spirit from which families must grow. The relationships that constitute a family's lifeblood ideally should be fraught with a thousand small reflections, repetitions, and extensions of the one Sacrifice that saved us. The one that all families within the human race, united toward the bond of glory, must strive to imitate.