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  • The Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord

    The Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord

    Today’s readings

    “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord.
    May it be done to me according to your word.”

    Today, we celebrate one of the most important feasts on the Church calendar. This is when we remember the time when the Angel Gabriel came to visit Mary, and to let her know God’s plan for the world, that would involve her in a very special way. She was to have a baby, whose name would be Jesus, and he would save the world from sin and bring forth the Kingdom of God. Mary’s cooperation was necessary to bring mercy in the way God wanted it to come to us.

    Without this feast of the Annunciation, there would never have been a Christmas. Without the Annunciation, there never would have been a Good Friday or an Easter. So this feast is so very important. Mary’s cooperation meant that Jesus could be born in her, and through her, come to save us. The faithfulness of Mary, especially as a very young girl, has to be an inspiration for all of us. Mary had no roadmap or big-picture view of how this would come about, yet she is full of grace and so she is very firm in her fiat, her “yes” – her decision to exercise her faith: She says, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” Mary says yes to God’s plan for her, and because of that, God is able to say yes to us, to invite us into the Kingdom.

    We too are called to have the kind of faith that Mary had. And that’s because surely the glory of God is aching to be born in all of us; God wants to do important things for the world through all of us. We are called to bring Christ’s presence to every corner of our world, every place where we are. Sometimes, that can be scary, because we too don’t know what God’s work will call us to do or experience. We may be called upon to feed the hungry, or clothe the naked, or visit the sick, or shelter the homeless, or any of the works of mercy. But do we have the strength and ability to do that? Maybe not, but we are called to be Christ in those situations anyway. We might respond as Mary did at first: “How can this be?” But ultimately, we are called to respond that we are the Lord’s handmaids and accept the call with great faith.

    Mary is our patron whenever we feel overwhelmed by what we are called to do. May we rely on her intercession to guide us through the dark pathways of the unknown. May we look to her for an example of faith. May we follow her great example and let the Lord be born in us too, so that our Incarnate Lord can be made manifest in our world yet again. May we, like Mary, cry out in faith, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.”

    Pray for us, O holy Mother of God,
    that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

  • The Third Sunday in Lent, Cycle C Readings

    The Third Sunday in Lent, Cycle C Readings

    Today’s readings

    God is extremely patient when it comes to extending mercy. That’s what Jesus is talking about in this rather odd parable. I have to admit that I’m no gardener: I’m just not patient enough for that! So I needed to do a little digging (no pun intended) to get a real sense of where this parable is going. I discovered that there are a couple of things we should all know before we get into this little story. First of all, fig trees actually did take three years to bear fruit. During those three years, of course, they would need to be nourished and watered and pruned and tended. It was a lot of work, so when those three years of hard work were up, you better believe the farmer certainly wanted fig newtons on his table! And the second piece of background is that, since the days of the prophet Micah, the fig tree has been a symbol for the nation of Israel, and Jesus’ hearers would have known that. So when they hear of a fruitless fig tree, it was a little bit of an accusation. Maybe more than a little bit.

    Conventional wisdom is that if the tree doesn’t bear fruit after three years of labor and throwing resources at it, you cut it down and plant a new one; why exhaust the nutrients of the soil? And if you’re an impatient gardener like me, why exhaust the gardener?! But this gardener is a patient one; he plans to give it another year and some extra TLC in hopes that it will bear fruit.

    So here’s the important take-away: God is not like Father Pat; he’s the patient gardener! And we, the heirs to the promise to Israel, if we are found unfruitful, our Lord gives us extra time and TLC in order that we might have time to repent, take up the Gospel, and bear fruit for the kingdom of God. That’s kind of what Lent is all about.

    But we have to remember: we don’t get forever; if we still don’t bear fruit when the end comes, then we will have lost the opportunity to be friends of God, and once cut down in death, we don’t have time to get serious about it. The time for repentance is now. As Saint Paul told the Corinthians, and us, on Ash Wednesday: “Behold, now is a very acceptable time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” The time for us to receive and share God’s grace is now. The time for us to live justly and work for the kingdom is now. The time for us to stop bickering and be kind to one another is now. The time to work on our prayer life is now. Because we don’t know that there will be tomorrow; we can never be presumptuous of God’s mercy and grace.

    The consolation, though is this: we don’t have to do it alone. The Psalmist today sings that our God is kind and merciful: We get the TLC that our Gardener offers; the grace of God and the gifts of the Holy Spirit. We can trust in the Lord God, our great “I AM,” to come to us and lead us out of captivity to sin just as he was preparing to do for the Israelites in the first reading today. We can put our trust in God’s mercy. We are always offered the grace of exodus, all we have to do is get started on the journey and begin once again to bear the fruit of our relationship with Christ.

  • The Third Sunday in Lent, Cycle A Readings (for the OCIA Scrutiny)

    The Third Sunday in Lent, Cycle A Readings (for the OCIA Scrutiny)

    Today’s readings

    There’s a lot of water in today’s Liturgy of the Word. The Israelites, near the beginning of their forty year journey through the desert, are beginning to miss some of the comforts of home, like water! So when they complain to the Lord, he gives them water in the desert. And let’s not downplay this: it’s pretty amazing – they had water in the desert! And in our Gospel today, our Lord stops along his own journey to get a drink of water from the Samaritan woman – and this whole interaction is less about Jesus’ physical thirst than it is about other kinds of thirst in the story – but more on that in a bit.

    We always have to think about why the Church is giving us these particular readings on this particular day. Why is it that we have part of the story of the Israelites wandering in the desert in our first reading, and the rather strange story of the interaction with the woman at the well in the Gospel today? Well, (no pun intended) whenever there’s this much water being mentioned in the readings, we need to think of a particular sacrament, and that sacrament of course is Baptism.

    Now maybe it makes a little sense. We have our Elect with us today, and they are preparing to receive baptism, as well as Confirmation and Eucharist, the Sacraments of Initiation, at the Easter Vigil. But even that’s not the whole story. Because this reading is for all of us. Lent itself is about baptism, and even if we’ve already been baptized, there’s still work to do. We are still being converted to become more like our Lord every day of our life. That’s what Lent is all about – getting back on the path and going a little farther forward. Lent points out for all of us that we’re still thirsty.

    So what is it going to take to quench the thirst you have right now?

    For the Israelites, it’s hard to know what was going to help them. They’re just at the beginning of their journey and already they’re complaining. They get thirsty and the first thing they do is complain – notice carefully, they complained, not prayed – and tell Moses that they’d rather be back in Egypt in slavery than out wandering around in the desert with nothing to quench their thirst. And it’s not like the slavery they experienced in Egypt was a minor inconvenience – it was pretty horrible and if they missed their quota even by a little bit, they were severely beaten. But sometimes it’s better the devil you know: sometimes we get stuck on what we’ve become used to and have given up yearning for something more.

    For the woman at the well, there’s a lot stacked against her and there is no reason Jesus should have been talking to her. In fact, the disciples, when they return and witness it, aren’t really sure what they should make of it. Because in that culture, nobody talked to Samaritans – they were outsiders and considered the scum of the earth. And for a man to speak to an unaccompanied woman was unthinkable. But Jesus knew she was thirsty – see it wasn’t about his thirst at all: rather, as Saint Augustine tells us, Jesus was thirsting for her faith.

    It’s a pretty weird conversation, to be honest. But in talking about her five previous husbands and the Samaritans’ practice of worshiping on the mountain, Jesus was pointing out how her own search for something to quench her thirst was so far pretty futile. She was looking for love in all the wrong places. The five men she was married to represented a history of failed attempts at finding love. And the guy she was living with now represented the fact that she’d pretty much given up any hope of ever finding true love. But the fact that Jesus knew all this without her saying a word about it woke her up a bit. And so then they go on to talk about how the Samaritans worshiped. They were looking for God on the mountain, but the thing is, the God they were looking for is the same Love that she had been searching for in her relationships, and he was standing right in front of her now.

    So what about you? What is it that is finally going to quench the thirst you have right now?

    Are you going to stay in the slavery of your former way of life, or do you want to journey on to the Promised Land? Are you going to continue to be content with failed or broken or impure relationships, or are you going to refresh them with Living Water? Are you going to continue to leave God up on that mountaintop where he doesn’t get in the way of your daily life, until you need something? Or are you going to look him in the eye and ask him to give you what you really need so you’ll never thirst again?

    Because for the Israelites, it wasn’t really water they needed. They needed a renewed relationship with God. And the woman at the well didn’t need those guys who weren’t leading her to right worship. She needed Living Water. In fact, she became so convinced of it that she left her bucket behind – that bucket that symbolized her former way of life.

    We’re all on a journey. The journeys of our Elect don’t end at the Easter Vigil when I pour water over their heads – it just starts there. All of us together are journeying on to the Promised Land of eternal life. And the only way we’re going to get there is by drinking deeply of the Living Water and allowing the One who gives it to us to lead us. And to get started on the journey, we’re going to have to leave Egypt, and our buckets, and our broken relationships, behind. No matter how hard it is to do that.

  • Saturday of the Second Week in Lent

    Saturday of the Second Week in Lent

    Today’s readings

    That Jesus would welcome sinners and eat with them is obviously a huge deal. In those days, it was thought that associating with sinners made one complicit in the sin, or at least showed approval of the sin; so the audacity of such an action was sinful in and of itself, at least as far as the religious leadership was concerned. But as an act of mercy, it’s grace unlike anything else. And the significance for us is understandable. Jesus still welcomes sinners and eats with them. If that were not true, none of us would be here for the Eucharist today, would we?

    Something that often gets overlooked in this very familiar parable is that both of the sons are sinful. It’s obvious that the youngest is sinful: taking half of his inheritance before his father is even in the grave, living a life of dissipation and sexual excess, using up all that money in a short time, content to eat among the swine which no good Jew would even think about touching, and finding himself very, very broken. But the so-called good son is sinful too. On his brother’s return, he refuses to go into the house to welcome him back, and takes his father to task for showing mercy and love. In the Gospel, failure to forgive is itself sinful.

    Both sons are sinful in their own way. Both need the father’s love and mercy and forgiveness. And both receive it. Far from the way a proper Jewish father would act, he runs out to meet both sons where they are. Protocol would have them come to him, and not he to them. But he comes out twice: once to meet the younger son who is on the way back to him, and once to meet his older son who refuses to come in.

    There is often discussion on where we find ourselves in this very familiar parable. Are we the sinful son? Are we the good son? Are we the father? It probably depends on the day – we might be like all of them at one time or another. I don’t think that’s what matters here. What matters is that Jesus welcomes sinners and eats with them – in our case, feeding us with the finest bread and wine which are of course his very own Body and Blood. Without this grace, we would have no life – salvation would only be a pipe dream. But because this grace is very real, we have the opportunity to gather here at the Table of the Lord, and one day, please God, at the great heavenly banquet. Praise God today for his forgiveness, mercy and grace. Praise God that he welcomes sinners and eats with them.

  • Friday of the Second Week in Lent

    Friday of the Second Week in Lent

    Today’s readings

    In the readings this week, I’ve been noticing a lot of foreshadowing. How many of you know what foreshadowing is? It’s a literary device that you seen in the early part of some stories, that gives us a hint at the end of the story. Usually you don’t notice the foreshadowing until you get to the end. I think we see foreshadowing in both of today’s readings. These readings remind us of what Lent is all about. During Lent, we remember that our Lord, who came down from heaven to earth to save us from our sins and re-connect us with the love of God, paid the price for our many sins by laying down his own life.

    Back when I was much younger, for my birthday my family took me to see the musical Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. Our drama club here at Saint Mary’s performed that musical several years ago. The story goes that Joseph’s jealous brothers ended up selling him into slavery in Egypt, but that in Egypt he became a powerful and talented government official who ended up saving many people, including his own brothers, from starvation during a famine.

    In the story, you can see many parallels between Joseph and Jesus. Joseph was sold into slavery in Egypt; Jesus came to take away our slavery to sin. Joseph’s own brothers plotted to kill him; Jesus was killed by us, his brothers and sisters, by our sins. Joseph fed the known world at that time by storing up grain for the day of famine; Jesus fed the multitudes, and us, with the bread that comes down from heaven. Joseph was sold for twenty pieces of silver; Judas was given thirty pieces of silver to hand Jesus over to death. Joseph, in many ways, was a foreshadowing of Jesus.

    In our Gospel today, Jesus tells a parable which is a foreshadowing of what will soon happen to him. The vineyard owner, God the Father, is looking for the fruit of the harvest. That harvest should be our faith. Instead, the people of old beat and murdered the prophets who came to give God’s word, just as the messengers of the vineyard owner were beaten and murdered. And finally, when God, the vineyard owner, sends his own Son, he was killed too.

    The people of Jesus’ day missed the foreshadowing, they missed the parallels, they didn’t get that God was continually reaching out to them to gather them in faith. But we know the story, all of it, and we can’t be like them. We have to be ready to hear the truth and act on it, to see Jesus in other people and respond to him; to hear the Word he speaks to us and live that Word in faith each day.

    God loved us so much that he gave us his only begotten Son; we have to treasure that gift and let it make us new people. That’s what Lent is all about, friends. Lent means “springtime,” and it has to see new growth in us, so that we can be a vineyard of faith to give joy to the world.

  • Friday of the First Week in Lent

    Friday of the First Week in Lent

    Today’s readings

    It would be so much easier if we could define our own righteousness. If we could choose who to reach out to and who to ignore, life would be good, wouldn’t it? If we could hold grudges against some people and only have to forgive some people, we would easily consider ourselves justified. But the Christian life of discipleship doesn’t work that way. Instead, our righteousness must exceed that of the Pharisees or we have no part in the Kingdom of heaven. It’s that simple.

    So when we bear grudges, we murder. When we label people and then write them off, we are liable to judgment. Because justice and righteousness in the Kingdom of God isn’t about looking squeaky clean, it’s about being clean inside and out, changing our attitudes, changing our hearts, renewing our lives.

    If Lent purifies us in this way, we can truly pray with the Psalmist, “with the LORD is kindness and with him is plenteous redemption.”

  • Thursday of the First Week in Lent

    Thursday of the First Week in Lent

    Today’s readings

    During this first week of Lent, our Liturgies of the Word are teaching us about the Lenten disciplines: fasting, almsgiving and prayer. On Tuesday, we heard the Lord’s prayer, and today we hear the prayer of Esther and Jesus’ injunction to persistence in prayer.

    I love the story of Esther, and as I often tell people, you should read the entire book of Esther from the Bible (it’s not very long). It reminds us that we need a Savior. Esther’s adoptive father Mordecai was a deeply religious man. His devotion incurred the wrath of Haman the Agagite, who was a court official of King Ahasuerus of Persia. Mordecai refused to pay homage to Haman in the way prescribed by law, because it was idolatry. Because of this, Haman developed a deep hatred for Mordecai, and by extension, all of the Israelite people. He convinced King Ahasuerus to decree that all Israelites be put to death, and they cast lots to determine the date for this despicable event.

    Meanwhile, Esther, Mordecai’s adopted daughter, is chosen to fill a spot in the King’s harem, replacing Queen Vashti. Esther, however, never had revealed her own Israelite heritage to the King. She would, of course, be part of the extermination order. Mordecai came to Esther to inform her of the decree that Haman had proposed, and asked her to intercede on behalf of her own people to the King. She was terrified to do this because court rules forbade her to come to the king without an invitation. She asked Mordecai to have all of her people fast and pray, and she did the same. The prayer that she offered is beautifully rendered in today’s first reading.

    Esther knew that there was no one that could help her, and that it was totally on her shoulders to intercede for her people. Doing this was a risk to her own life, and the only one that she could rely on was God himself. Her prayer was heard, her people were spared, and Haman himself was hung from the same noose that had been prepared for Mordecai and all his fellow Israelites. This evening, in fact, is the beginning of the Jewish feast of Purim, which is a festive observance of this biblical story.

    God hears our own persistent prayers. We must constantly pray, and trust all of our needs to the one who knows them before we do. We must ask, seek and knock of the one who made us and cares for us deeply. Prayer changes things, and most of all, it changes us. It helps us to rely on God who gives us salvation through Jesus Christ, the One who shows us how to ask, seek, and knock.

  • The First Sunday in Lent

    The First Sunday in Lent

    Today’s readings

    The devil wants us to forget who we are. That we are created good by a God who loves us more than anything; that we can never fall far from grace if we stay close to Jesus; that we are sons and daughters of God who have the freedom to love and grow and think and work with God to create the world anew. None of that serves the devil’s purposes, and so in our time, really in all time, he has worked very hard to make us forget who we are. If you think about any scandal or problem in the world today, I think you’ll find that at the core of most of it is when people forget who they are.

    Forgetting who we are changes everything for the worse. It makes solving problems or ending scandal seem insurmountable: we constantly have to cook up new solutions to new problems, because we’ve gone in a new direction on a road that never should have been traveled. That was the scandal of Eden, and the scandal of the Tower of Babel, among others. Once we’ve forgotten who we are and acted impetuously, it’s hard to un-ring the bell.

    One of the consequences of forgetting who we are is that we forget who God is too. We no longer look to God to be our Savior, because we instead would like to solve things on our own. Perhaps we are embarrassed to come to God because we are deep in a problem of our own making. We see this all the time in our lives: who of us wants to go to a parent or teacher or boss or authority figure – or anyone, really – and tell them that we thought we had all the answers but now we’ve messed up and we can’t fix it and we desperately need their help? If that’s true then we’re all the more reluctant to go to God, aren’t we?

    This forgetting who we are, and forgetting who God is, is the spiritual problem that our readings are trying to address today. Moses meets the people on the occasion of the harvest sacrifice, and challenges them not to make the sacrifice an empty, rote repetition of a familiar ritual. They are to remember that their ancestors were wandering people who ended up in slavery in Egypt, only to be delivered by God and brought to a land flowing with milk and honey. And it is for that reason that they are to joyfully offer the sacrifice.

    St. Paul exhorts the Romans to remember who Jesus was and to remember his saving sacrifice and glorious resurrection. They are to remember that this faith in Christ gives them hope of eternity and that, calling on the Lord, they can find salvation.

    But it is the familiar story of Christ being tempted in the desert that speaks to us most clearly of the temptation to forget who we are and who God is. The devil would like nothing more than for Jesus to forget who he was and why he was here. He would have Jesus forget that real hunger is not satisfied by mere bread, but must be satisfied by God’s word. He would have Jesus forget that there is only one God and that real glory comes from obedience to God’s command and from living according to God’s call. He would have Jesus forget that life itself is God’s gift and that we must cherish it as much as God does.

    But Jesus won’t forget. Satan in his arrogance thinks he can make him forget, but he is not more powerful than Jesus. And so, Jesus refuses to turn stones into bread, remembering that God will take care of all his real hunger. He refuses to worship Satan and gain every kingdom of the world, remembering that he belongs to God’s kingdom. He refuses to throw away his life in a pathetic attempt to test God, remembering that God is trustworthy and that he doesn’t need to prove it.

    The way that we remember who we are as a Church is through the Sacred Liturgy. In the Liturgy of the Word, we hear the stories of faith handed down from generation to generation. These are the stories of our ancestors, from the Old Testament and the New. In the Liturgy of the Eucharist, we engage in anamnesis, a remembering, or re-presentation of Christ’s Passion and death, and as we do that, it becomes new for us once again; it brings us to Calvary and the empty tomb and the Upper Room. There is no better way for us to remember who we are as a people than to faithfully participate in the Sacred Liturgy.

    And so we come to this holy place on this holy day to remember that we are a holy people, made holy by our God. We remember who we are and who God is. We rely on the Spirit’s help to reject the temptations of Satan that would call us to forget who we are and instead become a people of our own making. We have come again to another Lent. Lent is a time of conversion and springtime and re-creation. For the people in our Order of Christian Initiation for Adults – OCIA – it is a time of conversion from one way of life to another as they approach the Easter Sacraments. For the rest of us, Lent is a time of continued re-conversion and re-commitment to our sacramental life. Our Church teaches us that conversion is a life-long process. In conversion, we see who our God is more clearly and we see ourselves in a new, and truer light – indeed we see who we really are before God.

    That is life in God as it was always meant to be. Remembering our God, remembering who we are, we have promise of being set on high, as the Psalmist proclaims today. This Lent can lead us to new heights in our relationship with God. Praise God for the joy of remembering, praise God for the joy of Lent.

  • Saturday after Ash Wednesday

    Saturday after Ash Wednesday

    Today’s readings

    “Those who are healthy do not need a physician, but the sick do.”

    A few months ago, I had a reaction to my cholesterol meds: hives, itching, severe joint pain. At first it was just the hives and I dismissed it, thinking it was a bug bite. But they quickly spread. I was thinking if it didn’t get better I’d call the doctor the next day. But then I realized I had had this reaction before, and I knew it wasn’t going to go away on its own. I was sick, and I needed a physician. How often, though, do we just dismiss the illnesses we have and hope for the best?

    It’s important that we learn to do that in the spiritual life. If you don’t think you need a physician for your spiritual life, then you aren’t going to get much out of Lent, I’m afraid, and that’s sad. If you don’t admit you’re sick, you deprive yourself of the doctor. If you don’t admit your spiritual life is ailing, you deprive yourself of the Savior. Jesus is very clear today: he came to call sinners to conversion, and that includes all of us. It’s been said that the Church is not a museum of saints, but a hospital for sinners. And thank God that’s true, because all of us, me and you, all of us, need the medicine of grace in our spiritual lives time and time again. And the good news is that Jesus gives us Lent to do just that. Let’s be converted, be healed, be made whole so that the glory of Easter can brighten our lives.

    So our reflection this morning is two-fold. First, where and how do I need the Divine Physician in my life right now? And second, invite him in and ask him to heal us.

  • Ash Wednesday

    Ash Wednesday

    Where do you see yourself in forty days?

    I’m sure many of us have had to answer some version of that annoying question when applying for a job. You know: “Where do you see yourself in five years? Ten years?” But I ask that question today because I think we have to decide what getting ashes on our foreheads today means for us. If it’s just to check a box, or avoid the question “I thought you were Catholic?” at work, or to prove to Mom that we made it to Church, then we’ve missed an opportunity. Ash Wednesday is the busiest day at any Catholic Church hands down: busier than Christmas, and busier than Easter. And it’s really good that we are here today to mark the beginning of Lent, but seriously, where do you see yourself in forty days?

    The hope is that today we get reminded that we are dust, and to dust we shall return; and warned that we need to repent and believe in the Gospel. Then we take those admonitions and unpack them for forty days by engaging in fasting, almsgiving, and prayer, so as to rise on Easter Morning, greeted by the Morning Star that never sets, a new creation that has died and risen with our Risen Lord. That’s where we need to see ourselves in forty days.

    They (whoever “they” are!) say that it takes 21 days to start a new habit. So in forty days, we should be able to really accomplish something important. So if we find ourselves right now looking for a better relationship with God, a better relationship with the people in our lives, or wanting to be happier, more positive people, then the traditional Lenten disciplines of fasting, almsgiving, and prayer, if we really engage them, can make a huge difference in our spiritual lives, and in our lives in general.

    Maybe this year we will fast from spending so much time on social media, or on our phones or tablets in general, and really take an interest in the people in our lives. Maybe we will fast from the negative influences in our lives, whether that be news or media in general, or relationships with people that drag us down. Maybe we will fast from negativity, and choose to look at people differently, asking God to give us the grace to see them as he does.

    In almsgiving, maybe we will take the time to really give of ourselves. Yes, we can write the check to help any number of charities, but maybe we can also make a meal or even just a dessert for a lonely neighbor or relative. Maybe we will give alms by making time with our family a priority. Or maybe we will even volunteer to mentor someone in need, or to assist in faith formation here at church.

    For prayer, maybe this isn’t the only time we do daily Mass during these forty days of Lent. Perhaps even just a day or two a week before work or whatever the day’s agenda may be. Or, we could visit the adoration chapel for fifteen minutes once or twice a week. Or, maybe we try a new devotion like a daily Rosary or reading a few paragraphs of the Gospel of Luke every day.

    Forty days of some combination of that can really affect our relationship with God and our relationships with the people in our lives in an amazingly positive way. And doing this, we don’t blow the trumpet and say, “Hey, look at what good things I’m doing!” No, we do it unassumingly and note with joy the changes it makes in our demeanor.

    I hope this Lent is incredibly powerful for every one of us; that it makes our Easter Morning all the more joyous; and that it changes us in ways that will make our lives better for years to come.

    Where do you see yourself in forty days?