Fr. JC Maximilian

[Henryk Siemiradzki. “Christ and the Samaritan Woman.” 1890. Oil on canvas. The Lvov Picture Gallery, Lvov, Ukraine.  Found on the web at www.abcgallery.com.]

Have you ever grumbled because you were thirsty?  It was probably on a hot summer day, when you were outside working hard on something — maybe cutting the grass, doing some gardening, maybe painting the house — but you became so thirsty that you grumbled at someone to get you something to drink.  I think that all of us can remember a time when we were so thirsty that we grumbled.

There are a lot of thirsty people in today’s readings.  In today’s first reading, from the Book of Exodus, we are told that the Israelites, soon after being set free from slavery in Egypt, started to grumble against God and Moses because they were thirsty.  They started to ask themselves if the Lord was in their midst.  Then in today’s Gospel we hear Jesus tell the Samaritan woman that He was thirsty.  Our Lord did not grumble at her, but He did ask her for a drink.  So why all this talking about being thirsty?

Through our readings today God is trying to help us understand the difference between two different kinds of thirsts; two different kinds of needs.

The first kind of need is what we can call a finite or horizontal need.  These are the needs that we all have for the good things of this earth:  food, drink, companionship, safety, fun, a good income, medical care, success at work or school, etc.  These needs are all part of our nature as human beings, and there is nothing inherently wrong with desiring them.  These are needs that we can usually fulfill through our own effort.  We are hungry so we get ourselves something to eat, and then we are satisfied; at least for awhile.  We are thirsty so we get something to drink.  As long as to do not go to extremes, and we use proper means for satisfying these needs there is nothing wrong with having them.

However we also have another kind of need; ones that are deeper, infinite or vertical.  These needs are part of our desire for meaning and purpose.  These would include our need for love, truth, beauty, justice, and integrity.  These needs are also built into our nature as human beings, but unlike our finite or horizontal needs, there is nothing that we can do to satisfy these needs by our own effort.  Only God Himself can satisfy these needs, because only God is infinite Love, infinite Beauty, infinite Truth, infinite Justice, and perfectly One.  These are the needs that we can never get too much of; the more we experience them, the more we desire them.  God created us with these infinite, vertical needs in the very core of our being so that we would be constantly drawn toward Him, towards intimate, personal contact with His eternal, transcendent and infinite Love.

It is because of these needs that we are always restless, even when we have satisfied all of our horizontal needs.  It is when we forget this, when we try to satisfy our infinite, vertical needs with horizontal stuff that we put ourselves on the road to disappointment, frustration and even tragedy.

The Samaritan woman in today’s Gospel is an illustration of a person who has made the mistake of confusing these two kinds of needs.  Jesus notes that she has had five husbands and that she was not married to the man she was currently living with.  She was coming to the well in the middle of the day in order to avoid the other women of the village, so she had become isolated from her community.  Jesus, in His thirst — not only for water but for healing wounded souls — saw that this woman was living a life of frustration and alienation.  A life of loneliness and inner turmoil.  She had been trying for years to satisfy her vertical needs, which only God can satisfy, with all kinds of horizontal stuff:  human love, comfort, earthly pleasures.  She had started to learn the hard way that that formula does not work.  She started to have the spiritual awakening to realize that she needed a Savior, a “gift of God.”

Then she had an encounter with a man sitting by the well.  She had an encounter with Jesus, and she came to recognize in Jesus the embodiment of that which could fulfill all the deepest desires of her heart; all of her infinite, vertical needs.  While she did not get all the answers, she recognized Jesus did have all the answers, that He was the Christ, the gift of God.  He was the Way, the Truth, and the Life, and that if she truly wanted to take seriously the deepest desires of her heart then she needed to follow Him.  And she did not keep this treasure, this gift, to herself.  No, she went to all the people that she typically tried to avoid, and shared with them the Good News that she had encountered in Jesus, and she brought them to Him.

What can we learn from the Samaritan woman?  Maybe that we too have been trying to satisfy our vertical needs with horizontal stuff, and that doing so will only leave us feeling disappointed and frustrated.  Maybe we can learn from her to have the spiritual sensitivity to recognize the gift of God, to answer the question the Israelites asked in today’s first reading, “Is the Lord in our midst or not?”, with a definitive YES!

As we approach the Altar of the Lord, let us be people who worship what we understand in Spirit and truth.  Let us encounter Jesus, the great Gift of God, who is thirsting to heal our wounded souls.  Then, like the Samaritan woman, let us testify to all those around us — even those we typically avoid — that Jesus Christ is “truly the savior of the would.”

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[Temptation of Christ, 1854, by Ary Scheffer]

In today’s first reading we encounter that familiar first scene in the long, complex drama of human history.  Even though they are not named, we know it is the story of Adam and Eve, our First Parents, who were created in the image and likeness of God, filled with the breath of God’s own Spirit so to live as children of God.  They were crowned with glory, and given dominion over the world.  They were made to worship God; that is, to live not by bread alone but in obedience to every word that comes from the mouth of God.  However, they decided to put the Lord to the test, by trying to seize for themselves all that God had already promised to give them.  Why?  Because they chose to believe the lie of Satan, that they could be “like gods who know what is good and what is evil.”  We call this first scene “Original Sin.”

The final scene in this drama of human history will be Christ’s Second Coming and the Last Judgment.  Everything in between is connected to both Original Sin and to the Last Judgment.

However, today’s world has largely forgotten about these two pivotal milestones in human history.  We think that we have made so much progress in science and technology, and this leads to the temptation to think that we are totally self-sufficient.  We are tempted to think that we are not affected by the consequences of original sin, and that we will not be judged by a higher power — namely God — after we die.

The temptation to think like that is just another version of Satan’s original lie to our First Parents in the Garden.  Satan has convinced us that since we have learned to dominate our physical and material world, that we have no need for God, because we have become gods ourselves.  It is the same lie that tricked Adam and Eve.

As we begin the holy season of Lent, the Church is exposing this ancient lie.  The Church calls us to pay special attention to our sins and sinful tendencies, precisely because we do not want to forget the bigger story that gives real meaning to our lives by reminding us that we are not self-sufficient.  In fact, it is only by acknowledging our dependency on God that we are truly free and fully human.

Since Original Sin is one of the most important chapters in the drama of human history, and one of the most misunderstood, let us take a few minutes to recall what this most important of doctrines is all about.  There are three things to keep in mind about Original Sin: the Fact, the Cause, and the Effect.

The fact is that Original Sin happened.  It is part of God’s revelation.  In the Catechism of the Catholic Church, this fact is clearly stated:  “The account of the fall in Genesis 3 uses figurative language, but affirms a primeval event, a deed that took place in the beginning of the history of man.  Revelation gives us the certainty of faith that the whole of human history is marked by the original fault freely committed by our first parents” (CCC #390).

As fallen human being we are constantly tempted to blame evil on abstract social structures, or to chalk up sin to psychological traumas.  In other words, we are tempted to deny, ignore, or belittle the real source of evil in the world:  Original Sin and its effects.  If we give in to those temptations we will end up closing ourselves off from God.  We will lose touch with reality.  If our sinful behaviors are only due to poor upbringing and psychological trauma then we do not need a savior to bring us forgiveness, we just need psychotherapy.  If all the evils in the world stem from inept politicians and faulty economic systems then we do not need God’s grace to change our hearts.

The second key doctrine about Original Sin has to do with what actually happened.  In other words, what was the cause of Original Sin.  The Church points out that the account from the Book of Genesis that we heard in our first reading is told in figurative language; not historical or scientific language.  This means that the Scriptural account expresses the truth about WHAT happened, but not necessarily the exact details of HOW it happened.  While we can speculate about the HOW, we can never speculate about the WHAT.

Adam and Eve were created by God as morally free beings.  God created them in His image and likeness, which meant that they were capable of living in friendship with Him, of knowing Him, and loving Him.  However, friendship with God is unique because God is God and we are dependent on Him.  To live in friendship with God, who is the only source of our true happiness, we must admit and accept the fact that we are dependent.  The Catechism puts it this way, “The ‘tree of knowledge of good and evil’ symbolically evokes the insurmountable limits that man, being a creature, must freely recognize and respect with trust.  Man is dependent on his Creator and subject to the laws of creation and to the moral norms that govern the use of freedom” (CCC #396).

Adam and Eve uprooted themselves from the soil of God’s friendship because they resented the fact that they were not equal to God, and this is the essence of Original Sin.  Again, from the Catechism, “Man let his trust in his Creator die in his heart and, abusing his freedom, disobeyed God’s command.  This is what man’s first sin consisted of.  All subsequent sin would be disobedience toward God and lack of trust in his goodness” (CCC #397).

So now we know that Original Sin happened, it is a fact, and that it consisted of our First Parents rebelling against their dependence on God.  The third key point about Original Sin is that it affected not only Adam and Eve, but the whole human race.

As God is a communion of Three Divine Persons, He created us as a communion, the communion of family.  So when our First Parents rebelled against God, the whole family suffered the consequences.  Adam and Eve’s hiding in the garden symbolizes the alienation that they felt from God; an alienation that has been passed on to us.  The fig leaves that they wore symbolizes the tendency to be selfish that we all have.  Eve’s pain in childbirth and Adam’s toil and sweat to earn a living symbolizes that there is now an adversity of the forces of nature.  Lastly, “By our first parents’ sin, the devil has acquired a certain domination over man, even though man remains free” (CCC #407).  Original Sin was not only the origin of sin, but of the whole battle between good and evil that marks the history of every human life and community.  We all now have two tendencies built into us; the tendency towards goodness, which is that part of our nature that God created us with, and the tendency towards selfishness, which is that part of our nature that is fallen.  We only need to read the daily newspaper to see the effects that the battle between these two tendencies in the human heart has on the world.

This reflection on the nature of Original Sin can seem very discouraging at first glance:  that life is a battle that we cannot escape and will not end until we die.  However, Original Sin is only the beginning of the story.

God did not abandon us.  He had every right to, but He didn’t.  Just as God searched out Adam and Eve when they were hiding in the garden, God searches for us too.  And most importantly He has sent us a Savior:  Jesus Christ.

Unlike the first Adam, Jesus, the new Adam, never disobeyed God the Father.  Jesus never allowed His trust in His Father to die.  That is the lesson from today’s Gospel.  Despite the dire temptations in the desert, Jesus stayed faithful to His Father by being dependent on Him.  Jesus’ battle with Satan did not end after those forty days in the desert.  Satan continued to tempt Him right up to His death on the Cross.  Jesus defeated the devil, repairing the rift torn open by Original Sin, not by becoming all-powerfully self-sufficient but by being faithfully dependent on the Father.

Christ gives us food for the journey, the Eucharist, to strengthen us for the battle.  He has promised to walk with us, leading us every step of the way.  Lent is a time to renew our commitment to follow Christ.  Trust and depend on Him!

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Ash Wednesday has to be the most messy day of the liturgical year, and the ashes that we receive on our foreheads are the least of the mess.

The real mess are with the people.  The secretaries and priests go crazy with all the phone calls wanting to know when people can get their ashes.  The past couple of years I have even gotten calls from Robert Wood Johnson Health & Fitness center wanting me to go over there to distribute ashes to the people getting a workout during their lunch break.  We even have people wanting to know if they could get their ashes early; say on Monday or Tuesday.  There are so many people wanting ashes that the phones ring off the hook.

It seems as if more people come to church on Ash Wednesday, which is NOT a holy day of obligation, than on Christmas and Easter the two most important holy days of obligation.  As a priest I often wonder why so many people feel such a strong need to receive ashes.  There are so many unfamiliar faces on Ash Wednesday, so many who come for ashes but do not even stay for the reception of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament.  Are they all here for the right reason?  How long has it been since some of them have been to Mass or Confession?  Are they faithful to the Church’s teaching?  Are they in a state of grace or a state of sin?

Whether people understand the real meaning of Ash Wednesday or not, it seems that all of us acknowledge at the most gut level the fact that we belong in church on Ash Wednesday.  I pray that part of the reason for this gut reaction is that deep down, we all know that we are sinners in need of forgiveness.  We all know that there are times, too many in fact, when we are selfish, impatient, angry, hateful, and just not nice to the people around us.  Deep down we know that we are too often ungrateful to God for all the blessings that He has given us in our lives.  We know that we are not able to live the good life on our own, and we so often fail to do the good that we want to do and do the evil we do not want to do.

Hopefully this awareness that we are all sinners also brings us to a more important awareness; that through the grace of our baptism we have all been made members of the one body of Christ.  Our baptism, which can never be “undone” no matter how much we sin, links each of us inextricably to Christ and to one another for ever.  “The ashes on our foreheads are a reminder to ourselves and a proclamation to the world that somehow, we belong to Another.  Our lives are not our own but are bound up with a greater Reality.  Some are more actively aware than others that this Reality has a name:  Jesus Christ” (Fr. Rich Veras, “The Experience of Being a People,” Magnificat, February 2008, Vol. 9, No. 13, p. 89).

Most of us do not like messes.  Messy people often make us annoyed, yet as followers of Jesus we need to recognize that Jesus was followed by a crowd of messy people.  They didn’t all come to Him for the right reasons.  Many of them were not faithful to Jesus, especially when the going got tough.  Yet all of them were welcomed by Jesus, who looked upon the mess of women and men, and loved them.

And on this Ash Wednesday Jesus looks on us — very messy people — with that same love and acceptance.  As a people of God let us enter into the holy season of Lent by acknowledging the mess of our lives so that the mercy of Christ can renew us as His Holy People.

[I really need to give Fr. Richard Veras, a priest of the Archdiocese of New York, most of the credit for this homily.  Monday night, as I was working on my homily for Ash Wednesday, I got a phone call from one of my sisters concerning a serious crisis with her daughter.  The rest of the night was tied up with my family.  Fr. Veras and I know each other through our involvement with Communion and Liberation, so when I saw he had an article in this month’s Magnificat I read it.  I thought he had a wonderful reflection for Ash Wednesday on the messiness of our lives.  Given the mess in my family, it really struck home for me, so I took that theme and basically said what he said, but in more of my own words.] 

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[A picture I took in St. Paul’s Outside the Walls, in Rome, 2007]
The readings from today’s Mass gives us a lesson in ancient Israelite history and geography. As you may remember from the Book of Exodus, when the Israelites entered into the Promise Land, after their 40 years in the desert, each tribe was given a particular section of the land to be their own. The tribes of Zebulun and Naphtali lived in the northern part of the Kingdom, by the sea.

Eight hundred years before Jesus, the Assyrians attacked the part of the Kingdom of Israel where the tribes of Zebulun and Naphtali lived, and they were taken into captivity. That Assyrian attack marked the beginning of the end of the Kingdom of Israel. Two hundred years latter, the Babylonians would seize Jerusalem, and the rest of the tribes of Israel would be driven into exile.

In today’s first reading, the Prophet Isaiah assures the Israelites that God will never abandon them, and will save them from their captivity. Isaiah prophesied that since Zebulun and Naphtali were the first to be degraded, they would be the first to see the light of God’s salvation. In today’s Gospel reading, St. Matthew makes it clear that Jesus fulfills the prophecy of Isaiah; “Land of Zebulun and land of Naphtali, the way to the sea, beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles, the people who sit in darkness have seen a great light….” The message of salvation that Jesus preached was, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”

Pope Benedict XVI, in his book Jesus of Nazareth, declares what all serious scripture scholars say, that “The core content of the Gospel is this: The Kingdom of God is at hand” (p. 47). The basic statistics bare this out; the phrase “Kingdom of God” or “Kingdom of heaven” is mentioned 122 times in the New Testament, 99 times in just the Gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke, and 90 of these 99 times the phrase is spoke by Jesus Himself. Clearly a key to living an active, authentic Christian life is understanding and entering into the Kingdom of God. So what does this phrase mean?

The Catholic modernist heretic, Alfred Loisy, in noticing that the axis of Jesus’ preaching before Easter was the Kingdom of God, and that after Easter the preaching of the apostles became centered on the person of Jesus, sarcastically remarked that Jesus preached the Kingdom of God, and what came was the Church. His comments suggests that we have gotten away from the real preaching of Jesus. But have we?

In the fourth chapter of his book, Jesus of Nazareth, Pope Benedict does a marvelous job in examining the different ways that theologians have tried to understand the phrase “the Kingdom of God,” and he notes that many of these different hypotheses are lacking or even does violence to the Scriptures. While I cannot cover all the points that the Holy Father makes in his book in one homily, it is important to hear his conclusion.

The Kingdom of God is not a thing or a place or merely an interior attitude. Rather, “Jesus himself is the Kingdom. . . . By the way in which he speaks of the Kingdom of God, Jesus leads men to realize the overwhelming fact that in him God himself is present among them, that he is God’s presence” (Joseph Ratzinger [Pope Benedict XVI], Jesus of Nazareth, New York: Doubleday, 2007, p. 49). The Pope continues, “When Jesus speaks of the Kingdom of God, he is quite simply proclaiming God, and proclaiming him to be the living God, who is able to act concretely in the world and in history and is even now so acting” (p. 55).

What does all this mean for us, today? Through His parables, Jesus repeatedly invites people to enter into the Kingdom of God. Since He, Himself, is the Kingdom of God to enter into the Kingdom means that we need to enter into a relationship with Christ Jesus. Entering into the Kingdom of God demands a change in the way of life for those who believe in Jesus. When Jesus calls people to “Repent” He is not calling people merely to feel sorrow and remorse for doing wrong, for their sins. He is inviting people to radically rethink their life orientation; to turn away from the slavery of sin which leads to death, and towards Him, the Kingdom of God, which is the “great light” that leads to everlasting life.

Today’s Gospel reading then shows us examples of those who did hear Jesus’ call to repentance and left their old lives to follow Him. Peter, Andrew, James, and John left their boats and their previous way of life to become “fishers of men.” Do you honestly think that Peter, Andrew, James and John understood what it meant to be “fishers of men”? I don’t think they had a clue at the time Jesus first called them, but something so attracted them to Jesus that they knew that they wanted to follow Him and be His companions. They placed their faith in Jesus, and knew that He would not let them down; He would give them new Life, life to the full.

What attracts you to Jesus? Is entering into the Kingdom of God, the communion of the saints, the primary orientation of your life? The Scriptures make it clear that God is a jealous God who will not accept other gods in our lives. We need to ask ourselves, “Am I addicted to alcohol, drugs, gambling, sex or pornography? Am I a workaholic who fails to live up to my commitments to my family? Do I love and honor my spouse every day? Do I spend time with my children, and give them the time and good example they need? Do I seek justice in my professional and political life? Do I respect the dignity of all people, including the poor, the unemployed, the sick, and the elderly? Do I place Christ first in my life, and make a joyful gift of my time, talent and treasure to His Church, His Mystical Body, as made present in my parish?” If some of these questions leave you scratching your head, or feeling a bit guilty, then listen to the words of Jesus, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”

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[”The Baptism of Christ” by Fra Angelico]

Most of us probably do not remember our own baptism, since we were most likely infants, but hopefully most of us have been to other baptisms. The baptism that we hear about in today’s Gospel reading was not like your usual Baptism. There were no crying infants, no nervous parents and godparents, no family members all vying for the best picture. No white, lace gown that belonged so someone’s great-grandfather. Instead of a font, the place of Baptism was a mud-choked river.

Of course the Baptism in today’s Gospel reading did have some extraordinary events. Like what was the deal with that dove, and what about that voice from the clouds? Because of these extraordinary events at Jesus’ Baptism, we might be tempted to look at our own Baptism as nothing remarkable; nothing out of the ordinary.

However, nothing could be farther from the truth. The same Holy Spirit that appeared at Jesus’ baptism came down upon us at ours. God said to each of us what He said then: “You are my beloved child in whom I am well pleased.” We are not by our nature God’s children. Oh, we are made in His image and likeness, but due to Original Sin we lost the privilege of being God’s children. Rather it is through the grace of the Sacrament of Baptism that we are incorporated into God’s family, we become His children, and the sisters and brothers of Jesus. In fact, through the grace of Baptism, we are incorporated into the Divine Life by our being anointed by the self-same Spirit who anointed Jesus at Galilee. God the Father gives us through our adoption at holy baptism the same gifts as Jesus received. Two of the greatest of these gifts we received through our baptism is that God holds us with loving hands, and we receive the power of the Holy Spirit.

Being held in the loving hands of God does not mean that we will always see prosperity, health, and safety in times of danger. This is the false image of God’s loving hands often sold to us by the television evangelists, “Convert to the Lord and you will be cured of cancer, and double your income!” We need to keep in mind that when we are baptized into the life of Jesus, we are also baptized into His death and resurrection.

The Prophet Isaiah knew what it means to be God’s favored one, as he writes in our first reading: “I have grasped you by the hand; I formed you and set you as a covenant of the people, a light to the nations.” To be held in the loving hands of God means to be given to the world. At our baptism the priest or deacon lit a small candle from the Paschal Candle and said as he gave it to our parent or godparent, “Receive the Light of Christ.” The parents and godparents are told that this light is entrusted to them to be kept burning brightly, so that the child who has been enlightened by Christ will continue to walk as a child of the light, the flame of faith burning brightly in their heart. Of course this light is not to be put under a bushel basket, rather it is to shine out brightly through us into the shadows of the WHOLE wounded world. There will be times when we will be like Jesus on the cross, feeling completely abandoned and forsaken. Our Calvary might be on the factory floor, around the water cooler in the office, on the hospital ward, but where ever our Calvary is by our baptism we are called to be the instrument through which people feel held by the loving hands of God. In order to be this, we must experience it. We must allow God to hold us in His loving hands.

The second gift that God gives us at our baptism is that the power of the Holy Spirit is poured upon us. Again listening to the words of Isaiah in today’s first reading, we see that this power is not meant to dominate or hurt. Rather the power of the Holy Spirit is to heal and set free. It is to bring forth justice, open the eyes of the blind so that they can see the Truth of Jesus Christ.

We need to ask ourselves how can each of us become more responsive to the graces we received at our baptism? Baptism is not something automatic, done once long ago like a vaccination. Baptism is suppose to be still happening, each time we are called to offer ourselves up for the lifting up of God’s people. Our hearts should mirror the forgiveness that we received at our baptism by being a source of God’s mercy to all those around us.

One of the more important Catholic, American writers of the 20th century was the southern lady, Flannery O’Connor. In one of her short stories, entitled “The River,” Bevel is the five-year-old son of uncaring, alcoholic parents. His babysitter takes Bevel to the river to be baptized by a traveling preacher. In this scene, O’Connor catches the human and redemptive promise given in baptism:

“Have you ever been baptized?” the preacher asked.
“What’s that?” [Bevel] murmured.
“If I baptize you,” the preacher said, “you’ll be able to go to the kingdom of Christ. You’ll be washed in the river of suffering, son, and you’ll go by the deep river of life. Do you want that?”
“Yes,” the child said, and thought, I won’t go back to the apartment then, I’ll go under the river. “You won’t be the same again,” the preacher said. “You’ll count.” He held him under while he said the words of baptism and then he jerked him up again and looked sternly at the gasping child.
Bevel’s eyes were dark and dilated. “You count now,” the preacher said. “You didn’t even count before!”

At each of our baptisms the preacher’s words were said to us, “You count now.” This “counting” is both a gift and a responsibility. The challenge of being people who “count” is to make our baptism a reality every day of our lives. God the Father said of Jesus on the day of His Baptism, what He says to us on the day of our Baptism, “This is my beloved, my chosen one with whom I am pleased.” We need to make sure we please God every day, by loving Him with our whole mind, our whole heart, and all our strength, and loving our neighbors as ourselves. After all, “we count now.”

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[”The Holy Family” by Michangelo]

The Christmas season is a time for families.  Children come home from college or from their own homes to celebrate with mom and dad.  We visit grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins who we do not see for most of the year.  We share stories, traditions, and dreams.  Sometimes we fight with our family; hopefully we spend more time laughing and rekindling the love that binds families.  There is an old saying that goes something like this; “everyone’s greatest blessing is also their greatest curse.”  At least sometimes, most of us probably feel that way about our own families.  Somehow our greatest joys and our greatest sufferings are often both linked up with family relationships.

Did you ever wonder why God invented family life?  After all, God could have made us like ferns.  Ferns are pretty much self-sufficient and self-propagating.  Just give them some soil, sunshine and just the right amount of water and ferns are just fine all by themselves, making new ferns.  God could have made us like ferns, but He didn’t.  Why?

God created us in His own image and likeness.  God is a communion of three persons — Father, Son and Holy Spirit — each person is distinct but they share the one Divine nature.  God is a Trinity.  In making us in His own image and likeness, God created us so that we can only find our fulfillment in community, in the intricate network of relationships that make us dependent on others, and others dependent on us.  To be created in the image of God is to be created for family life.

However, since we are human-beings, our family life does not come ready-made.  We cannot buy the perfect, pre-fabricated family somewhere.  Rather family life is a calling from God, and it can seem like a task.  God has created us kind of like a coloring book; the outline of how we are meant to be is provided, as are the crayons, but it is up to us to color it in, and to do our best to stay within the lines.

So how do we fulfill this central mission of our lives, the imaging of God through living a truly Christian life?  We need to use three canyons that God makes available to us.

The first thing that we need to do to live a healthy Christian family life is to respect family roles.  There is a natural structure of the family, just like there is a natural structure of a tree.  The natural structure of a tree includes roots, trunk and leaves, whereas the natural structure of a family includes a dad, a mom, and children.  They all go together and need each other in order to bear the fruit of maturity, wisdom and happiness.

In today’s first reading from the Book of Sirach we see a beautiful picture of family roles painted.  Mom and Dad are in charge.  Together they exercise authority over their children.  This authority comes from God, and it comes with a lot of responsibility.  Parents must not abuse their  authority over their children, and they must not neglect the love, education in the faith, and training in virtue that they owe their children.  God is counting on parents to carry out this important, primary mission in life.

In today’s second reading, St. Paul offers a formula for couples to successfully carry out this mission:  spouses must keep their love strong by serving each other.  The new life of their children flow from the joyful and mutual self-giving in love of their parents.  A home filled with the joyful, self-forgetful love of the parents provides an atmosphere that will allow children to mature into healthy young adults.

Sirach points out that children also have a key role.  They are to honor and obey their parents while they are growing up, and respect and care for them when they get old.

These are the healthy roles of family life.  Parents should not behave like children, and children should not act like parents.  It is like a triangle; dad is one side, mom is one side, and the children are the third side.  If selfishness breaks one of those sides, the whole triangle fails.

Maintaining healthy roles of family life is not easy in this fallen world, and that where the second crayon comes in.  Again we can look to St. Paul in today’s second reading for a foolproof way of rebuilding the triangle whenever it gets broken or bent out of shape.  It can be summed up in two simple words:  “I’m sorry.”  Simple words, yes, but not always all that simple to say due to sinful pride, but if we know how to say “I’m sorry,” our family relationships can endure and grow even through very difficult circumstances.

St. Paul writes, “Put on … patience, bearing with one another and forgiving one another, if one has a grievance against another; as the Lord has forgiven you, so must you also do.”  The only way to create an atmosphere of forgiveness is to be ready to ask for forgiveness.  One of the best gifts that we can give our families is to make a commitment to always be the first to say “I’m sorry” whenever there is the slightest need.  Without Christ’s example and help we could never live like that, but we do have Christ (don’t we?), so we can live like that.  “I’m sorry” is the super-glue for family relationships.  Like a broken bone that has been healed, a family can become stronger than ever when nourished with the calcium of forgiveness.

Despite our best efforts to build a healthy, happy Christian family we will face obstacles.  The fact remains that we live in a fall world.  We cannot escape from it.  That is where the third crayon comes in.  To build a healthy Christian family we have to expect trouble.

This past Christmas I spent with my Mother, and we watched a movie that she has been talking about called The Ultimate Gift.  I really recommend it, its great for the whole family.  Basically the main character has 12 tasks, which his grandfather calls “gifts,” to complete to get his inheritance from his grandfather.  One of the “gifts” is the gift of troubles.

We need to keep in mind that we are pilgrims on earth; in fact we are soldiers in a real spiritual battle.  We are human beings with free will and deep-seated tendencies towards selfishness and sin.  And to make matters more difficult, we are surround by people with those same tendencies.

Today’s Gospel describes a family on the run, suffering, and struggling just to survive.  St. Joseph is told in a dream that King Herod is looking to kill the baby Jesus, and he needs to take Mary and Jesus to a foreign country to be safe.  St. Joseph knew that life would be even more difficult in Egypt because they would be outsiders, but he trusted in God.  He knew that sometimes God permits hardships because God knows that hardship can bring us closer to Him.  St. Matthew’s Gospel makes it clear that the flight to Egypt fulfilled a prophecy, so furthered God’s plan of salvation.  Just so, when we face the hardships of family life with courage, we grow in virtue and glorify God better because we have a chance to love more heroically.

Family life truly is the school where we learn to color in the outline of the image of God in which we were created.  That is why there are so many forces in modern culture that are trying so hard to extinguish family life.  These forces are anti-Christian and anti-God.  They resent the fact that God is God and they are not, and so they delight in disfiguring the image of God, the human family.  This is the real reason behind the immoral movement towards legally recognizing homosexual unions as equivalent to marriages.  It is the real reason behind the efforts to expand abortion laws throughout the world.  It is the real reason that contraception and pre-marital sex is promoted as “normal” and “healthy.”  It is why no-fault divorce laws have been, and continue to be expanded.  And it is why legalized euthanasia is being pushed as the next “choice” we all must have, so that we can be able to dispose of the elderly and the disabled when they get inconvenient.  All these trends claim to promote human freedom and dignity, but in fact, whether their promoters realize it or not, they are direct attacks against human freedom and dignity.

You can pull the wheels off a car and make the tires into a pedestal.  You can rip out the engine, smash it up, and put it on top of the pedestal.  You can peel of the frame, twist the pieces into fascinating, contorted shapes, and arrange them as decorations around the smashed engine and piled tires.  If you do, you may have an award-winning piece of post-modern art, but that car will never again make it out of the driveway.  God wants us to make it out of the driveway and to cruise all the way home to heaven.  To do so, we need to follow His instructions.  We must do our best to image God by faithfully living as a Christian family.

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[”Adoration of the Child” (1439-43) by Fra Angelico]

How many of you have been to Oberndorf, Austria?  OK, it is not one of the top vacation spots, but it was in that small village in 1818 that an event happened that led to an expression of the meaning of Christmas which people will most likely cherish for as long as the world endures.

It was just a few days before Christmas when the organ in the church of St. Nicola broke down.  Some say that some of the pipes rusted out, while others say mice ate some of the workings of the organ.  In any case it became clear that there was no way that the organ would be repaired in time for Midnight Mass.  The organist, Franz Gruber, asked the parish priest, Fr. Josef Mohr, for permission to use a guitar for the Mass.  Gruber explained that they would keep the music simple, but the choir would need some accompaniment.

Fr. Mohr agreed, and mentioned that he had been working on a simple Christmas poem, that most people would be able to understand.  Fr. Mohr recognized that his parishioners, the villagers of Oberndorf, were without much education as were the shepherds who were invited to the crib in Bethlehem.  The brief poem, which Fr. Mohr had given no title, was only 26 words in German.

The organist went to work, and shortly before Christmas he completed his melody.  At midnight Mass in the church of St. Nicola in Oberndorf, Austria in the year 1818 people sang for the first time “Silent Night.”

This simple carol captured the spirit — the feeling — of Christmas.  It is actually a lullaby for the Son of God.  The power of this carol lies in its simplicity and humility.  From Oberndorf, Austria “Silent Night” has spread throughout the world; having been translated into over 300 languages.  This simple carol has so captured the spirit of Christmas, that it has even brought enemies together.  During the Christmas cease-fire during the First World War the American and German soldiers sang “Silent Night” together from their foxholes.

The real appeal of Christmas is not so much the truth that God entered the world and that divinity took on humanity, but the manner in which this was done.  If Christ had been born of luxury and high rank, the unbelievers would have said that the world was transformed by wealth.  If Jesus had been born in Rome, the great city and capital of the Empire, unbelievers would have thought that the transformation had been brought about by civil power.

Instead He chose to be born into the most humble of circumstances.  He chose to be born in an insignificant village in a remote province.  He chose to be born of a poor maiden, whose husband could not even find them a proper place to stay.  Jesus accepts all that poverty implies, hoping to ensnare us and save us by stealth.

It is only the Christ Child lying in the manger who possesses the true secret of life.  “For this reason he asks us to welcome him, to make room for him within us, in our hearts, in our homes, in our cities, and in our societies.  The words of John’s Prologue echo in our minds and hearts: ‘To all who received him…he gave power to become children of God’ (John 1:12).  Let us endeavor to be among those who welcome him.  Before him one cannot remain indifferent…. What will our response be?  With what attitude will we welcome him?  The simplicity of the shepherds and the seeking of the Magi who scrutinized the signs of God by means of the star come to our help.  The docility of Mary and the wise prudence of Joseph serve as an example to us…” (Pope Benedict XVI, Audience, January 3, 2007.  Libreria Editrice Vatican, www.vatican.va).

By His birth in Bethlehem, Jesus brought into the world the love that binds the world to Himself in a relationship of friendship for all who welcome Him.  Saint John of the Cross says, “In giving us all, that is, his Son, in him God has now said all.  Fix your eyes on him alone . . . and you will find in addition more than you ask and desire.”

In the “Silent Night”, in the manger in Bethlehem you will find the deepest desire of your heart.  You will find the Way, the Truth and the Life that leads to eternal happiness.  Embrace the Christ Child, and allow Him to embrace you.  Merry Christmas!

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[Philippe de Champaigne’s The Dream of Saint Joseph painted around 1636]

So, are you all ready for Christmas? Do you have all your shopping, baking, and Christmas cards done? Christmas is so close that we can practically touch it. The joy of Christ’s birth is already warming our hearts, but our Lord wants our hearts to grow even warmer.

This past Tuesday I attended something that certainly warmed my heart. It was the annual Christmas show that our pre-schoolers put on. Our wonderful pre-school teachers had all the kids well rehearsed to sing the carols, and of course the children were so very cute and full of excitement. One thing that really impressed me during one of the songs was that the teachers had taught the children to bow their heads at the name of Jesus.

For many, this might seem as an old-fashioned custom, but it is one that helps us keep in mind that we should have a special reverence for the name of Jesus. In the readings this weekend three of the names of the Lord are revealed to us. Of course we have all heard these names before, but we need to think about them again.

Names have power. Just think about the many stories and legends that talk about the power of a name. I recent finished reading a science fiction trilogy by Ursala LeGuin, called EarthSea, in which if you knew a thing’s real name you had power over the thing. Of course we do not believe in such magical thinking, however when we really understand the meaning of Christ’s names our relationship with God can be brought to a whole new level.

Human parents are very careful in choosing a name for their children. They want the name to have some special meaning or significance. Maybe we are named after a grandparent, or a favorite aunt or uncle, or perhaps even a favorite saint. I even knew a woman who was named after her mother’s favorite candy. Parents carefully deliberate over the name of their children because they want the name to signify just how important this new life is to them.

God the Father was also very careful in naming His Son. He did not leave it up to chance or to Mary and Joseph’s creativity. God the Father chose His Son’s name Himself, and sent an angel to announce the choice to Mary and Joseph.

In the Old Testament, God often changed people’s names when He was entrusting to them a special mission in salvation history. Just think about Abram who became our father of faith Abraham. Or Jacob who became the father of the nation, Israel. The meaning of their new names signified their role in God’s plan.

When God the Father instructs Joseph to call Mary’s son “Jesus” even before He has been born, He is showing that Jesus is not just another prophet. Rather the Father is showing that Jesus is His Son in an entirely unique way — so much so that God the Father has the right to choose His name right from the beginning of His human existence.

What does this name mean? In Hebrew, Jesus means “God saves.” This name reveals to the whole world Christ’s mission. Unlike the prophets of the Old Testament, Jesus did not come merely to announce God’s plan of saving mankind from sin and death. Rather Jesus came in order to enact that plan. Jesus came to win that salvation for everyone.

However, another name is also revealed to us in today’s readings: the name “Emmanuel”. This is the name foretold by the prophet Isaiah, and St. Matthew applies it explicitly to Jesus. In Hebrew Emmanuel means, “God is among us.” Where as the name “Jesus” referred to Christ’s mission, what He came to do, the name “Emmanuel” refers to His identity, who Jesus is.

The two names are, of course, closely related. The only reason that Jesus is capable of winning salvation for the human race is precisely because He is both true Man and true God. Original Sin had cut off the human race from God’s friendship; it destroyed sanctifying grace, the Divine Life within us. It made us slaves of the devil. Adam and Eve had freely disobeyed God and obeyed Satan, and so they put themselves and their descendants under Satan’s influence. This was the origin of evil in the world. We could not climb back up to God’s level on our own. In order to reestablish the friendship with God, we needed God Himself to take the initiative. We needed a Savior who could unite God and the human family.

Jesus is that Savior. He brings God and humanity back together in His own person. He has God for His Father, so He is fully Divine, and He has Mary for His mother, so He is fully human. Thus, since He is “Emmanuel” (God among us) He can also be “Jesus” (God saves). God becoming man in order to save the fallen human race is the greatest story ever told, more fantastic than any science fiction or fantasy or fairy tale. Yet, it is as true as the air we breath. This is the true meaning of Christmas.

There is yet another name that the Church presents to us today. In today’s second reading, St. Paul summarizes Christ’s amazing mission and refers to Him as “Lord”. “Jesus” and “Emmanuel” are names that only God could have given, but “Lord” is a name that only we can give.

“Lord” comes from the Hebrew word “Adonai” (add-own-EYE), which is used often in the Old Testament. It is a grammatical alteration of the word “adoni” (add-own-EE), which referred to kings, owners of slaves, and heads of households. Anyone who had authority over other persons was called “adoni.” However, only God was referred to as “Adonai”. Human authorities always receive their authority from somewhere — a cultural tradition, a higher authority, their position in society. However, God does not receive His authority from anyone else. He is the ultimate source of all power, order, truth, beauty, greatness and love. By His very nature, God is “Adonai” — Lord.

When we call Jesus Lord we are acknowledging that He is much more than just one of history’s great religious leaders or moral teachers. In calling Him Lord, we are expressing our conviction that He is truly Jesus, the Savior; that He is truly Emmanuel, God among us; and that He is truly worthy of our faith and obedience. God cannot call Himself Lord because He cannot submit Himself to Himself. Only we can submit ourselves freely to Jesus’ authority, to be His followers. Only Christians can call Jesus Lord.

In the days remaining before Christmas, let us keep all three names on our lips and in our hearts, as true lovers always do. At the name of Jesus, who is Emmanuel, let us bow our heads in respect and reverence for our Lord.

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[The following is a talk that I gave to the Communion & Liberation community in Philadelphia on Dec. 2, 2007.  I thought I would share it since I did not have to preach this weekend since the deacons were]

Advent is a time for preparation and waiting.  It does not seem as if the modern world is very good at waiting.  We seem to want fast food, overnight express delivery, on-demand TV and  movies.  Ours seems to be a culture of instant, or at least near instant, gratification.  Jesus told His Church that we would be a sign of contradiction, and one of the ways that the Church holds up a big red flag to our culture that is just rushing along, is to have this season of Advent — a sacred time of waiting.

But waiting for what?  Rather waiting for whom?  Of course our wait is for the encounter with the Mystery.  The one who speaks with authority.  The one who fills all of our deepest desires.  The one who reveals us to ourselves.  We are waiting for the encounter with Christ.

One of our simple gestures, when we gather as a community of believers, is to pray the Angelus.  Why this prayer, of all the many beautiful prayers in the Church’s treasury?  I believe that Msgr. Giussani had an affinity for the the Angelus because it reminds us of the center of time and being — the Incarnation, when the eternal Logos in love of us became Flesh.  While the Mystery had always made itself known to humanity, in the Incarnation the fullness of Divine love is manifested to humanity.  Of course the Incarnation did not happen at Christmas.  That first encounter of the Logos-made-Flesh was an intimate, personal encounter when the Blessed Virgin Mary said “Yes” to the invitation by God to participate in an absolutely unique way in His almighty will.  For nine months this great event, this wonder of wonders, was experienced only by a few people — most intimately by Mary and Joseph, but recall that even John the Baptist leapt in the womb of Elizabeth when he encountered the Mystery in Mary’s womb.

Yet Advent is a time of waiting and preparation for Christmas, when the great Encounter manifests Himself for all the world to see — from the poor shepherds tending their sheep to the wealthy wise men from the East.  While the waiting for the Messiah was over at the Incarnation, we who are often slow to realize the greatness of God, celebrate the end of the waiting at Christmas.  Our Salvation has Come!

One of the ways that we can best celebrate Advent is to nurture this need for waiting within ourselves.  We need to recognize our desire for Christ, our longing for Him, in order to recognize His Presence among us.  Without anticipation, without waiting, we might miss Christ passing by.  We might miss our opportunity to say, “Master, where do You live?” so that He can say, “Come and see.”  Of course Christ never stops making Himself present to us, He continually invites us to encounter Him, yet we can repeatedly miss Him in our blindness, in our rushing about, in our not being willing to wait.

What can we do to be better wait-ers?  First we can learn to better appreciate beauty.  The theme for this year’s Exercises was “Christ in His Beauty Draws Me to Him.”  That is a powerful statement, and one that we should not rush past too quickly.  It seems to me that our culture has dimmed in its appreciation of beauty.  After all, look at some of the things that pass for art today; a Crucifix in a jar of urine, a mosaic of the Madonna made out of elephant dung, music that seems to glorify using people, or just taking care of “my own.”  We have been lead astray by the saying, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder”, which so many people seem to interpret as meaning that there is no universal standard of beauty.  Yet we know that God IS Beauty!  Please note well that I am not saying that God is beautiful, but that God in His Being is the Being of Beauty.  I am not a great philosopher, in fact I nearly drove one of my philosophy professors mad, because I just kept telling him I just did not get it, so I am sure that this is not the most philosophically exact definition of beauty, but beauty is the correspondence between the artistic expression and the mind of God.  It is a response to God’s love that tries as best as it is able to correspond to God’s love.  It is this correspondence, or more properly put, relationship with God that was the theme of the first lesson of this year’s Exercises, and will be the theme of our Advent reflection as we prepare and wait — for Christ, in Christ, with Christ.

In reading a biography of St. John Vianney, I read about an episode in the saint’s life when someone, noticing that the Cure’ of Ars spent many hours of devout prayer before the Blessed Sacrament, asked him what he prayed before the Blessed Sacrament.  St. John Vianney, simple, holy man that he was, replied, “He looks at me and I look at Him.”  What an absolutely wonderful description of contemplation.  First, Christ looks at me.  Then I look at Him.

What does Christ see when He looks at me?  He sees my need.  He sees my longing for infinite happiness, my desire for infinite love.  He looks at me with compassion.  Over and over again in the Gospels we hear that Jesus looked at people with compassion.  Whether it was the Rich Young Man who wanted to know what he needed to do to gain eternal life, or the woman caught in adultery, or the crowd that followed Him like sheep without a shepherd, or looking at Jerusalem soon to be destroyed, Jesus always looked with compassion.  And He still looks at us with compassion.  As you have probably heard, the word compassion means to “suffer with,” but I think we need to broaden that definition for when we use the word “passion” we often mean more than “to suffer”.  We say that we love passionately.  We might say we have a passion for football, or knitting, or hiking, or reading.  Often when we use the word “passion” we mean something like, “to burn with desire,” so when we think of Jesus looking at us with compassion we need to see Him as burning with desire for us.  Jesus loves us.  That really is the beginning, middle, and end of the story.  Jesus REALLY, REALLY loves us.

Now, if you are going to cry when I say that Jesus loves you, please let it be with joy.  Once I was helping at another parish as their children made their first Reconciliation.  Many children come feeling nervous and anxious, and this one child really looked scared and after they told me all their sins, I looked at them with as tender a look as I could, smiled and said, “Jesus loves you.”  With that this child burst into tears.  I have to wonder what people thought as they saw this child crying as they left the confessional.  Maybe that is why they haven’t invited me back to help with first Reconciliation any more.

Seriously, when Jesus gazes on us, He burns with desire for us and with us.  He knows what fulfills our deepest desires.  He lays bare our need to be happy, our need to be loved, together with all the illusions we create around us that we think will make us happy.  Our sins are one type of illusion, a false love, a false happiness that just leaves us empty.  But there are also other illusions in our lives, which often are not sinful per say, but do not satisfy.

Almost 20 years ago I was in graduate school, working on my Ph.D. in Counseling Psychology.  This was long before I was a priest.  While there I had fallen in love with a woman.  Her name is Juliann.  I know that there was some real love there, because only people who love each other can hurt each other as much as Juliann and I hurt each other.  Looking back in hindsight, we both were looking for the other to be the source of our happiness, and this just put too heavy a burden on the other.  Of course we failed to fulfill each others’ deepest desires, after all we were both fallible and finite human beings.  And when we failed, we got angry with each other.  We broke up, and for a long time afterwards I was in a depression.  I just wondered if anyone would ever really love me.  I was just absolutely sure that if I just found “Miss Right” my life would be happy.

During this time, in addition to going to a counselor — hey, remember, I was studying to be a psychologist, I continued to go to my spiritual director, Fr. Bob, a Dominican priest.  For a very long time I was “in the desert” as they say.  While in my head I could accept the fact that there was a God, I just could not feel His love.  He seemed distant and unconcerned about me.  And I got really tired of hearing people say, “Oh, even Jesus spent 40 days in the desert.”  One day Fr. Bob and I was talking about all the “sand” I was eating.  I remember getting angry and saying, “Jesus was only in the desert for 40 days.  I feel like I have been here for a year.”  Fr. Bob asked me to think about why Jesus was in the desert.  I said to be tempted, and he said, “Yeah, but think about when in His life He was in the desert.”  I said, right before He started His public ministry.  Fr. Bob said, “Yeah.  Did you ever think that God might be calling you to that kind of public ministry?”  I remember staring at him thinking he must be insane.  I mean here I was having what I thought were some serious doubts about God, and he was asking me if I had ever thought about becoming a priest.  He said that he noticed that I seemed to be more at ease, more at peace, when I was helping out there at the university Neumann Center.

I left that session of spiritual direction still thinking that Fr. Bob was nuts, but it broke something in me.  It laid bare some of my illusions about what happiness was.  I eventually came to realize that I had an encounter with Christ that afternoon.  That Jesus had spoken to me through Fr. Bob.  Jesus looked at me.  Of course Jesus was always looking at me, but this time I started to look back.  My needy heart, which was at first “needing” the wrong things, helped me to recognize the Presence of Jesus and my desire to be loved by Him and to love Him.  Now, I have only been a priest 3.5 years, and this encounter was over 15 years ago, it has been a long journey.  It has been a journey of passion — both the suffering kind and the joyful loving kind — but Christ’s compassion for me has kept me going.

One of the things that we need to do as we wait and prepare this Advent season is to recognize Christ gazing at us, and we must gaze back at Him.  We need to allow Christ to lay bare our need to be happy, our desire for love, and our illusions.

Related to this gaze of Christ is the value of the human person.  If we were of little value, why would Christ look at us with compassion?  After all, God does not need us.  God is complete in the Trinity.  Yet for some reason He has not revealed to us, God chose to create the universe.  I almost said, “the universe in general and each of us in particular,” but the truth is that in His perfect love God creates everything “in particular.”  While we can talk, scientifically, of processes of cosmology and evolution, we should never fall for the illusion that God just started these processes and has just allowed them to run without giving things much of His attention since.  That would be a deistic why of thinking:  God the great clock-maker who now just lets the clock run on its own.

No, God loves us as an “I”.  While He loves all of creation, He does so in a particular way, not a general way.  That means that He loves each of us, not just in general, but in particular.  As another priest once told me, “God knew every sin and mistake I was going to make in my life, and even though He could have made the universe any way He wanted, He did not want to make it without me.”  Well, that goes for each of us.

Just as we should never look at cosmology and evolution as processes that God just started and has now step back from, we should not look at our lives in that way.  There is a real tendency to try to explain away our behaviors as due to forces beyond our control.  In the early 70’s the comedian Flip Wilson had the famous saying, “The devil made me do it.”  Now we blame our DNA and/or our environment.  We want to reduce everything that we do to mere reactions.  As a psychologist I see this often, even within the Church.  I work as a psychological expert for the diocesan marriage tribunal, and so often in annulment cases the argument is made that since depression or anxiety or substance abuse or you name the diagnosis from the DSM-IV runs in the family the person was incapable of entering into a valid marriage.  I am not sure what the judges on the tribunal think of me, because I frequently say in my reports that people are not cogs in a machine.  That God has given us this tremendous gift called free will.  While not wanting to completely dismiss the influence of DNA and prior learning, we cannot throw out our freedom.  We cannot be reduced to being just like the animals.  We are made in the image and likeness of God.  We are His children.  He counts the hairs on our heads.  God loves us!!!  Christ desires to enter into an exclusive relationship with us.  Jesus wants every individual to be happy.  Our desires stem not from the senses, like the brute animals, but from that spiritual power we call the human will.

In the famous passage from St. Paul’s Second letter to the Corinthians, in which he talks about the thorn of the flesh that he begged the Lord to remove from him, he writes, “I will rather boast most gladly of my weaknesses, in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me” (2 Cor. 12:9).  Here is another example of how the Church stands in contradiction to the spirit of this world.  Weakness, dependency are bad things according to our culture. We are told that we need to become autonomous and independent.  That we are responsible for our own happiness, our own satisfaction.  If this is true, why would we have any relationships at all?

St. Paul had the right idea when he “begged the Lord” three times, for to have an authentic relationship with Christ we must become beggars.  We must recognize our utter dependence on God for EVERYTHING.  I mean every beat of our heart, every breath we take is a gift from God.  We need God.  No amount of money or power or things or human relationships is going to satisfy the deepest desires of our hearts.  Only Christ can make me truly happy.

Now, I am not saying that everyone needs to become celibate like me.  Of course marriage is a blessing, a gift from God, yet I am sure that you married couples here can verify that if it all depended on the two of you, your marriage would be over.  I know that if it was just up to me, J.C. Garrett, I could not forgive sins or make present the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ.  All vocations must be rooted in God.  That’s just another way of saying, that we need to recognize and live in a unique relationship with Christ Jesus.  We must allow the power of Christ to dwell in us.  This is what Msgr. Giussani called “religiosity” and religiosity is what Jesus insists on as the only condition for being human.  “Man has a choice:  either to conceive of himself as free from the entire universe and dependent solely on God, or else as free from God, and therefore he becomes a slave to every circumstance” (L. Giussani, At the Origin of the Christian Claim [V. Hewitt, trans.]. Montreal, Canada:  McGill-Queen’s University Press, 1998, p. 86).

As a priest I certainly feel close to Christ when I celebrate the Mass, hear confessions, and anoint the sick.  Fr. Stephen Rossetti, in his book The Joy of Priesthood, calls this “reflected grace,” for while the person receiving absolution or anointing or the Eucharist is the principle recipient of the grace of the sacrament, the priest, as the instrument that God uses to bestow the sacramental graces, also receives grace.  Maybe it is the grace of recognizing our dependence on God, because as I said before, I know that on my own I cannot forgive sins.  To be an instrument is humbling, and it is in humility that we draw near to Christ.  God does not want us groveling before Him.  No, He wants us to embrace the our dignity of being children of God, to come to our loving Father with our needs in utter confidence that God will fulfill all our needs.

This dependency on God can be an extremely difficult lesson to learn, and it is one that we often need to learn over and over again.

A few months after I was ordained a priest I was diagnosed with cancer.  I have to say, hearing that you have cancer can be one of the most frightening things you will ever hear.  It really did not matter that the doctor told me that it was one of the most easily treated kinds of cancer.  All I heard was, “I have cancer.”  I had just turned 40 years old.  The details of that night remain fresh in my memory.  About 10 days prior the doctor had removed half of my thyroid, though he told me that the chances that it was cancer was very small.  Mom and Dad, who had stayed with me a few days after the surgery, had gone home.  The other priests in the rectory were all at a neighboring parish to assist at a Penance service.  The doctor said a lot of other things, including that I would need more surgery followed by radiation, but mostly I just heard “you have cancer.”  And I came home to a big, dark, empty rectory.  I tried calling some friends, but no one was home.  I was very scared and panicked, but then a calm came over me and I said quietly, “all for Jesus.”  At first I did not know where that came from, but then I realized in my aloneness that I was not alone.  Christ was there.  He did not tell me that He would take the cancer away.  He did not tell me that I wouldn’t die.  He was just present with me, and I knew that He would always be present with me.  The fear and anxiety did not magically go away, but they were transformed.  I had a new appreciation for what Jesus means when He says, “See, I make all things new.”

When we are humble and embrace our dependence on God, Christ fills our lives in a superabundant way.  God who is Love fills us with love.  But if we are all filled with ourselves, striving to be so autonomous, we leave no room for Christ.  He knocks at the door of our heart, but He will not kick it in.  We must open the doors of our hearts, invite Him in, and He will sup with us.

Christ, who reveals us to ourselves, comes as a little baby, born in a manger.  The King of Kings and Lord of Lords is the Babe of Bethlehem, showing us that it is in dependency and weakness that the power of God dwells in us.

This religiosity, which Christ insists on, this unique relationship in which Christ looks with compassion on us as we depend on Him, is ever new.  Christ is present to us through His Church, which is nothing but His Mystical Body enlivened by His life, by His Holy Spirit.  As members of the Church we invite each other into this unique relationship with Christ that we have been discussing.  Msgr. Giussani says that a friend is someone who opens up this religiosity in us.  Fr. Bob, my old spiritual director, was a friend because in his challenge, he opened me up to the gaze of Christ.  The reason we gather for School of Community is not simply to participate in some kind of Adult Faith Formation or study group.  We are called to be friends to each other.  We are called to help each other be open to the relationship that Christ desires to have with us.  We help lay bare each others’ need for love, for happiness, and our illusions that keep us from Christ.

Our religiosity, our relationship with Christ that embraces our dependence on Him who looks on us with compassion, expresses itself in prayer.  I am sure that most of us remember being taught, probably sometime in our childhood, that there are four kinds of prayer:  Adoration, Contrition, Thanksgiving, and Supplication (ACTS).  At times it seemed to me as if the prayer of supplication or intercession or asking was treated as the least good kind of prayer, because it could be seen as selfish.  In reading the lessons of this year’s Exercises, and reflecting on them, I have come to realize how wrong that way of thinking is.  While we certainly should be mindful of all of our brothers and sisters around us, and not be selfish, but all prayer really is asking.  When we ask God our Loving Father for something — whether for ourselves, or our families and friends, or for the world — we are recognizing our dependence on Christ.  We are inviting Him, who is constantly knocking at the doors of our hearts, to enter into relationship with us.  It is always an asking to be aware of the Divine Presence.  We should always pray, that is ask, in the words of that Advent hymn, “O Come, O Come Emmanuel.”

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Francis Thompson was a British poet who lived from 1859 until 1907.  He had a very difficult life.  He was trained as a physician, but his medical career was an utter failure.  He had a very troublesome relationship with his father which resulted in him being homeless for several years.  Most of his adult life he struggled with an addiction to opium.  Both his circumstances and his sins made his life miserable.  Yet his greatest work, an autobiographical poem entitled “The Hound of Heaven,” is considered one of the greatest Christian poems of all time.  In this 182 line poem Thompson beautifully tells about a God who refuses to abandon even the most determined sinner.

In the poem, the protagonist is madly searching for happiness, but in all the wrong places.  During his misguided search for happiness, he is relentlessly pursued by a hunting dog, a hound.  The hound is a symbol of God, who loves us too much to ever give up on us, and He is too well “trained” so that nothing that we can do will ever shake Him off our trail.  The poem begins with a description of his flight from God and his vain search for happiness in other things:

I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;
I fled Him, down the arches of the years;
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears
I hid from Him, and under running laughter.

At the end of the poem, after he has no place else to run to, the hound catches up to him and says:

Rise, clasp My hand, and come!
… Ah, fondest, blindest, weakest,
I am He Whom thou seekest!
Thou drivest love from thee, who drivest Me.

Like every other human being, the deepest desire of our heart is to be happy; a desire for infinite love, infinite truth, and infinite beauty.  Like Thompson, we often search madly for happiness in all the wrong places, often fleeing from God, the only source of eternal and infinite happiness.  What the poem teaches us is that nothing we do can lessen God’s love for us.  He is faithful, and His hand is always outstretched to save us from ourselves.

The drama of “The Hound of Heaven” in nothing new.  Seven-hundred years before the coming of Christ, when the Kingdom of Israel was falling apart, God promised that He would not abandon His people.  He promised to send a descendent of King David — “a shoot from the stump of Jesse” — to be our Savior.  Two-thousand years ago when Jesus was born, that promise was fulfilled.  God is faithful.

To make sure that the suffering people of Israel would recognize this Savior, God sent a messenger to announce His arrival:  John the Baptist.  Before Jesus began His public ministry, the Holy Spirit sent John to make the preparations.  John reminded the people of Israel of their covenant with God, and informed them that the promised Messiah was soon to arrive.  John the Baptist told them to get ready for the arrival of the Messiah by repenting of their sins.

These are the actions of a faithful God who keeps His promises.  And just as He kept His promises to the People of Israel, so too does He keep His promises to us.  On the day of our baptism, God promised that He would never abandon us.  He adopted us as His children and became our Father.  He promised that He would always sustain us with His grace, love and truth.  In his recent encyclical, Spe Salvi (The Hope that Saves), Pope Benedict XVI writes, “Man’s great, true hope which holds firm in spite of all disappointments can only be God — God who has loved us and who continues to love us ‘to the end,’ until all ‘is accomplished’” (#27).

The whole Advent season tells us that God is faithful, and that means that He is worthy of our trust.  In this post-modern, post-Christian world we need to have someone we can trust.  How can we keep on the right track, the path to true happiness, when we are surrounded by so many contradictory opinions?  How can we know what is true and good, what is morally right, when there are hundreds of television channels and 1 billion Web sites that are all communicating their own theory of values?  How can we find true happiness in life when every year 100,000 new books are published in the US, each one pointing to happiness in its own direction?

We must always keep in mind; GOD IS FAITHFUL!  His Gospel is trustworthy, true and unchanging.  His Church, through which He has promised to guide us until the end of time, in spite of the imperfections and frailties of its pastors, never tires of reminding us about the essential truths, the top priorities, the milestones on the path to meaning, interior peace, and everlasting happiness.

GOD IS FAITHFUL!  Therefore we should obey His voice; expressed in the Ten Commandments, in our well-formed consciences, and in the Church’s official teaching about faith and morals.  To do so is to put ourselves and our loved ones inside the only boat that is guaranteed to make it to the port of heaven.

The Hound of Heaven is set loose.  Instead of running from Him, let us run to embrace that Hound, for He is “He Whom thou seekest!”

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