Caritas Christi Urget Nos

Author: Father Pat Mulcahy

  • The Second Sunday of Lent

    The Second Sunday of Lent

    Today’s readings

    What would you give up for love?

    That’s the question I want us to focus on today because I think it is, perhaps, the question of the spiritual life.  What is it that we are willing to give up for love?  And I’ll be honest: this set of readings gets me every time.  When I see what Abraham, Jesus, and ultimately God the Father would give up for love, it makes me repentant of the shoddy things I tend to hang on to.  But let’s bookmark that for a bit and get into the readings we have today.

    Today’s first reading puts poor Abraham in an awful position.  Remember, he and Sarah were childless well into their old age.  And it is only upon entering into relationship with God that that changes.  God gives them a son, along with a promise, that he would be the father of many nations.  It’s unbelievable. Think of anyone you know who has had to struggle with the pain of being childless.  And here God puts an end to that just when they have come to terms with the fact it was never going to happen. Everything changes for them, an old and childless couple.

    And so now put yourself in Abraham’s place.  After rejoicing in the son he never thought he’d have, God tells him: “Take your son Isaac, your only one, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah.  There you shall offer him up as a holocaust on a height that I will point out to you.”  It’s not a suggestion, it’s not an invitation, it’s an order.  Now, Abraham knows that it’s only because of the gift of God that he has Isaac to sacrifice in the first place.  But for those of you who are parents: think about it, what would you do?  How would you feel in that moment?  That boy is the answer to your life-long prayers, and now God wants him back.  Wow.

    The reading omits a chunk in the middle that is perhaps the most poignant part.  Abraham packs up and takes his son on a journey, travels with some servants, and at the end of it, he and Isaac haul the wood and the torch up the mountain.  Isaac asks him: “Here are the fire and the wood, but where is the sheep for the burnt offering?”  Can you even begin to imagine the anguish in poor Abraham’s heart?  And yet he responds in faith: “My son, God will provide the sheep for the burnt offering.”  Which, of course is absolutely true.  God had provided Isaac, who was intended to be the sheep.  God had, indeed, provided Isaac.  But Abraham couldn’t have known that God would intervene, couldn’t have imagined what God had in mind.

    Now, we could get caught up in the injustice here and call God to task for asking such a horrible thing in the first place.  Why would God test poor Abraham like this?  Why would he give him a son in his old age, only to take him away?   What purpose did that serve?  And who wants to worship a God who would do something like that?  But we have to know that the purpose of the story is to illustrate that God has salvation in mind; that he always intends the good for us.  Yes, God would provide the lamb.  It was never going to be Isaac; it’s not even the sheep caught up in the thicket – not really.  We know that the sheep for the burnt offering is none other than God’s own Son, his only one, whom he loves.  The story is ultimately about Jesus, and his death and resurrection are what’s really going on in today’s Liturgy of the Word.

    So let’s let that sink in for a minute.  No, of course we don’t want to worship a God who would be evil enough to give a couple the gift of a child in their old age and then demand that he be sacrificed.  But we certainly worship this God who, in his great love for us, sacrifices his Son, his only one, whom he loves.  That, friends, is our God.  That’s what all of this is all about.

    Now let’s get back to the thought I asked you to bookmark at the beginning of my homily today: Abraham trusted God and was willing to give up the thing he’d probably die for – his own son.  God asked, and he, anguished as he must have been, made the preparations and was ready to do it.  That’s what love of God meant to him.  So what are we willing to give so that we can demonstrate – to ourselves if to no one else – our trust in God’s ability to love us beyond all telling?  For Lent, we’ve given up chocolate, or sweets, or even negative thinking or swearing.  Maybe we’ve been successful, or perhaps have not done well with them, or maybe we have even given up giving up the things we gave up!  But we need to see in Abraham’s willingness that our sacrifices, however big or small they are, are important; they mean something.  So maybe now, still early in Lent, it’s time to take a second look at our Lenten sacrifices.  Can we go deeper?  What are we willing to give up to experience God’s love more fully?

    Jesus goes up a mountain in today’s readings too – and when he does, he sees that he is to become the sheep for the sacrifice – sooner rather than later.  That was the meaning of the Law and the prophets of old, symbolized by Moses and Elijah on the mountain.  But knowing that, and knowing what’s at stake, he does not hesitate for a moment to go down the mountain and soldier on to be that great sacrifice. He willingly gives his own life to be the sheep for the sacrifice, because leaving us in our sins was a price he was not willing to pay.  His life was the thing he was willing to give up for love; for love of us. There are a lot of things out there for us that seem good.  But the only supreme good is the life of heaven, and eternity with our God.  Think of the thing that means everything to you: are you willing to sacrifice that to gain heaven?  Are you willing to give everything for love of God?

    Because, for you, for me, God did.

    God did that for us.

  • The First Sunday of Lent

    The First Sunday of Lent

    Today’s readings

    “Repent and believe in the Gospel.”

    I think, in general, as a people, we are allergic to repentance.

    The year was 2012, and it was the first year that we used the revised translation of the Roman Missal.  On Ash Wednesday, as I do every year, I used both of the prescribed verses when applying ashes: “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return” and “Repent and believe in the Gospel.”  The latter of which is taken from the end of today’s Gospel reading.  I got two rather vivid complaints from people to whom I used that latter verse, which ran something along the lines of “why would you tell me to repent?”

    The systemic nature of this allergy to repentance is magnified by the fact that almost anything is permissible these days: aborting a baby at full term, having illicit relationships, lying in public office, inciting violence, mass shootings, rampant crime, and so many more.  These are all pervasive; they never go away, and every day they just get worse.

    On the other hand, repentance is almost discouraged by a cancel culture that refuses to forgive anyone for any mistake, intended or unintended.  No one is allowed a second chance, no one is ever encouraged to turn over a new leaf.  As the late Cardinal George once said, “contemporary culture permits everything and forgives nothing.” He was a wise observer of contemporary humanity.

    Nevertheless, Jesus is clear in our Gospel today: “Repent and believe in the Gospel.” Because our God is a God who encourages repentance. He wants everyone to come to salvation, but justice demands that salvation requires a heart ready to receive it; justice requires repentance.

    Repentance is easy, but it’s also incredibly hard.  It’s hard because we are of this society allergic to repentance. It’s hard because we believe everything is “okay for me.” It’s hard because we have been conditioned to look out for number one, to “be true to yourself,” to do what seems right to you. But there is such a thing as eternal Truth, which our society also does not recognize, and that Truth reminds us that some things are always wrong, and we must abandon the notion that some times everything is okay.  So repentance requires what the Greek language calls “metanoia,” which means literally turning around and going in the other direction, in this case, going toward the Truth, who is our God.

    So we have to apologize, we have to stop doing the wrong thing, and we have to turn back to God who is always waiting for us.  That’s repentance. That’s what justice demands, and that’s what salvation requires.

    I said repentance was easy, but also hard.  It’s easy because all we need to do is turn back to him. And we can do that by coming to confession and receiving the Lord’s forgiveness. We can do that in our prayer life by turning our thoughts and affections to him. One of my favorite ways to put myself into God’s presence is to pray the Jesus prayer: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” It’s an ancient prayer of the Church, it’s a good act of contrition, and it’s a wonderful mantra to pray over and over in times of temptation, fear, or frustration. It’s a wonderful way to open ourselves up to repentance.

    Friends, those people who were mad at me in 2011 didn’t realize it, but we all need to repent. Even me; maybe even especially me. We all have times when we’re headed in the wrong direction. And on those times we need to turn around, to turn back to God, to repent, to confess our sins, and to accept the love and healing grace that our God offers so freely.

    If during Lent you do nothing else, please learn to accept the need for repentance. Society may forgive nothing, but our God forgives everything, if we turn back to him with all our heart, and that’s all he wants. Give God your heart this Lent and see what he does with it.

    Repent and believe in the Gospel.

  • Thursday after Ash Wednesday

    Thursday after Ash Wednesday

    Today’s readings

    “If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself
    and take up his cross daily and follow me.”

    You know, in my life, I’ve found that that quote is very easy to accept until a cross actually presents itself. Then, when the cross shows up, there’s an overwhelming sense of despair. But Lent is supposed to teach us how to take up the cross. The fasting, almsgiving, and prayer that we have taken up, or are about to take up, don’t mean anything unless we give them to Jesus and ask him to help us with the cross, whether it’s the cross we are currently bearing, or a cross in the future. It’s like going to the gym and training our muscles so that we can do our work and care for ourselves and our loved ones. Faith is like a muscle: it has to be trained so that we can have it in our times of need.  How will our Lenten penance help us to take up our crosses?

  • Ash Wednesday and Saint Valentine

    Ash Wednesday and Saint Valentine

    Today’s readings

    Saint Valentine was a clergyman who lived in the third century.  A martyr, he was beheaded on February 14 in the year 369. Before this, he had been condemned to death for evangelizing.  But the pagan judge gave him the opportunity to prove the authenticity of Jesus by inviting him to cure his blind adopted daughter.  This he did, and the judge and his family were converted and baptized. He was later recaptured for continued evangelization and beheaded.  He gave his life for the Gospel and ultimately for our Lord.  One legend says that he defied the orders of the emperor and would perform Christian marriages for couples so the husbands could avoid conscription to the army, and it is for this reason primarily that he was put to death. That same legend says that, in order to remind the couples of their vows and God’s love, he would cut out hearts from parchment and give them to the persecuted Christians, which sounds a lot like giving Valentines to loved ones.

    It’s not lost on me that Ash Wednesday this year falls on Valentine’s Day. Love of God and neighbor is the essence of the Gospel message, and both of these celebrations bring that call to love to the forefront of our attention. Just as we love our loved ones on Valentine’s Day, we are called on Ash Wednesday to come to a deeper, more vibrant love of God and neighbor.  And so on Ash Wednesday, we are called to dedicate our Lent to the three traditional spiritual practices of fasting, almsgiving, and prayer.

    So first, there is fasting.  We can give up snacks, or a favorite food, or eat one less meal perhaps one day a week, or we can give up a favorite television program or activity.  Fasting helps us to be aware of the ways God works to sustain us when we’re lacking something we think we need.  The whole idea of fasting is that we need to come to realize that there is nothing that we hunger for that God can’t provide, and provide better than we could ever find in any other source.

    Second, we pray.  Sure, we’re called to pray all the time, but maybe Lent can be the opportunity to intensify our prayer life, to make it better, to make it more, to draw more life from it.  Maybe we are not people who read Scripture every day, and we can work through one of the books of the Bible during Lent.  Maybe we can learn a new prayer or take on a new devotion.  Maybe we can spend time before the Lord in the Tabernacle or in adoration.  Maybe we can just carve out some quiet time at the end of the day to give thanks for our blessings, and to ask pardon for our failings.  Intensifying our prayer life this Lent can help us to be aware of God’s presence at every moment of our day and in every place we are.

    Finally, we give alms or do works of charity.  We can visit a soup kitchen or go out to collect groceries (and, ahem, not expired ones!) for the food pantry.  Maybe we can devote some time to mentoring a child who needs help with their studies, or volunteer to help in our school or religious education program.  Or we can spend time with a homebound neighbor or parishioner. Works of charity might be a family project, choosing an activity and doing it together.  When we do works of charity, we can learn to see others as God does, and love them the way God loves them and us.

    And none of this, as the Gospel reminds us today, is to be done begrudgingly or half-heartedly.  None of it is to be done with the express purpose of letting the world see how great we are.  It is always to be done with great humility, but also with great joy.  Our acts of fasting, prayer, and charity should be a celebration of who God is in our lives, and a beautiful effort to strengthen our relationship with him.

    The ashes we receive today don’t mean anything if we don’t internalize the call to love better. Repenting of our hard heartedness, or indifference, or apathy, or straight out racism, misogony, and any other sin will help us to more fully receive God’s love and change our lives, and the lives of others around us.  Small changes, spiritual practices during Lent, can make this a reality. Love is who God is, Valentine’s Day or not, and the ashes on our head remind us that love calls us to do whatever we can to change the world for the better.  It all starts by changing our lives for the better.  That’s the gift of Lent.

    It is my prayer that this Lent can be a forty day retreat that will bring us all closer to God.  Our collect prayer calls this a “campaign of Christian service.”  Lent is a time to pay more attention to the ways God wants to bless us and respond by giving blessing to others.  May we all hear the voice of the prophet Joel from today’s first reading: “Even now, says the Lord, return to me with your whole heart!”

  • Tuesday of the Sixth Week of Ordinary Time

    Tuesday of the Sixth Week of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    “All good giving and every good gift is from above.”  This word that we have from St. James today is so encouraging on this Mardi Gras day.  As we get ready for the spiritual rigors of Lent, we might be tempted to see our fasting, almsgiving and prayer as onerous and undesirable.  But when we realize that everything that we have is a gift from God, and that God gives us everything that we need, we might find it a bit easier to give up something, to reach out to the poor, and to enliven our prayer lives.  Every good gift is from above, and taking forty days out to remember that is a joyous thing indeed.

    I’ve often said that Ash Wednesday is my least favorite day on the Church calendar.  I say that because it’s a long and tiring day, and those who don’t come to Mass regularly don’t get that they have to do that to receive ashes; they can’t get them when they want to – we have a schedule, and a generous one at that. So the day often leaves me frustrated and tired and not at all in the right frame of mind for Lent.

    The last week or so, God has been pounding on my door and pushing back against my hardness of heart.  He’s challenged me to see the blessing: people coming for something only the Church can give, an opportunity to evangelize and connect people to the love of God, a chance to use the penance of the day to grow in my own spiritual life. God blesses us all the time, sometimes we just need to change our minds to see it.

    Every good gift is from above, and that is certainly a great joy!

  • The Fifth Sunday of Ordinary Time

    The Fifth Sunday of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    I don’t think most of us need to think real hard about what it means to suffer.  We have all had, and will have, more than our share of it.  Whether it’s the illness and even death of loved ones, or our own illnesses, or unemployment, underemployment, and difficulties at our job, or strife in our families, or any one of many other issues, we have all encountered suffering at some level, at some point in our lives.  When we are going through it, it can be hard to find meaning in that suffering.  Why would God let us suffer, or let our loved ones suffer, as they do, and not intervene? What purpose does our pain and sadness serve?

    The reality of suffering is something of a mystery for us.  Today we hear it in our first reading: Job, the innocent man, has been the victim of Satan’s testing: he has lost his family and riches, and has been afflicted physically.  His friends have gathered around and given him all the stock answers as to why he is suffering: that he, or his ancestors, must have sinned and offended God, and so God allowed him to suffer in this way.  But Job rejects that thinking, as we all should: it is offensive.  Even if we accept that our sins have been great, this reduces God to a capricious child who throws away his toys when he tires of them.

    That’s not Job’s God and it’s not our God either.  And we still have that notion of suffering among us, I’m afraid.  Many people think they are being punished by God because of their sins when they are suffering.  And there is some logic to it: our sins do bring on sadness in this life.  Sin does have consequences, and while these consequences are not God’s will for us, they are a result of our poor choices.  But God does not penalize us in this way by willing our suffering.

    In fact, God has such a distaste for our suffering, that he sent his only Son to come and redeem us.  Jesus was one who suffered too, remember: being nailed to the cross, dying for our sins – but even before that, weeping with those who wept for loved ones, lamenting the hardness of heart of the children of Israel, being tempted by the devil in the desert, even understanding the hungry crowd and miraculously providing a meal for them out of five loaves and a couple of fish.  Jesus felt our affliction and suffering personally, and never abandoned anyone engaged in it.

    In today’s Gospel, Jesus is found healing.  First Peter’s mother-in-law, and then those who came to him at sundown.  In this reading, Jesus is a sign of God’s desire to deal with suffering.  We do not deny the presence of suffering and the tragic in our lives, in fact, we do what we can to overcome it.  But while Jesus deals with suffering and cures illnesses in these stories, he doesn’t eliminate all pain from the world.  In the same way, somehow, we deal with the suffering that presents itself to us, and its causes as we can, and are left with the awesome mystery of what remains.

    But the key here is that our God is with us in our suffering, and so we are called to be there for others who are suffering.  Indeed, we are partners with them in their suffering.  That’s how this always works. When we pray, we open the door for our God to walk with us through suffering.  If it’s his will that we be cured or the situation would change, that will happen, but whatever happens, we are not alone in it.  And when others suffer, we are the hands and feet and voice of Jesus as he walks with them in their pain.

    This weekend we kick off our annual diocesan Catholic Ministries Annual Appeal which funds the various ministries of the diocese of Joliet.  We at Saint Mary’s depend on these ministries to help us: educating seminarians like Andrew, our new intern, and our weekend seminarian Matthew; and supporting the efforts of our school and religious education program.  In addition, through the efforts of Catholic Charities, housing is provided for those who are in need, and meals are served to the hungry.  We are blessed that we can come together as a diocese to provide these services, all for the Glory of God.

    We can’t make all of the suffering in the whole world go away.  But we can do the little things that make others’ suffering a little less, helping them to know the healing presence of Christ, together.

  • Friday of the Second Week of Ordinary Time

    Friday of the Second Week of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    The saga between Saul and David continues. The Lord has rejected Saul, and given gifts and charisms to David, who God intends to anoint as king in Saul’s stead. This is obvious to Saul, and has driven him to madness. He is so enraged at this point that he mounts a large military campaign – three thousand of Israel’s best men – just to hunt down David. Insecure people do crazy things.

    But, although he certainly could, and even though God said “Do with him as you see fit,” David will do no such thing. He recognizes that even though the king might be flawed – crazy, even – he is still the king, and action against the king is action against God as well.

    This, friends, is the essence of the fourth of the Ten Commandments: respecting authority. People of integrity do not take advantage of others, or mount campaigns against them. Instead, they continue to do their work and live their calling as God has required of them. Remember that the Fourth Commandment is the only one that comes with a promise: “that your days may be long in the land which the Lord your God gives you.” (Exodus 20:12)

    God is faithful. It is up to disciples to be people of integrity and be faithful as well.

  • The Second Sunday of Ordinary Time

    The Second Sunday of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    What are you looking for?

    That’s the question Jesus asks us today, and it’s a good one.  For the disciples who were checking him out, I think it took them aback somewhat.  They weren’t expecting that and they honestly didn’t have a great answer.  So instead they do what Jesus usually does and they answer the question with another question!  “Rabbi, where are you staying?”  And very cryptically, Jesus answers by saying, “Come and you will see.”  That’s a wonderful line, so bookmark it for just a second.

    Here we are, essentially just beginning the regular part of the new year of the Church.  We’ve been through Advent and the Christmas season, we’ve celebrated Epiphany, Jesus has been baptized in the River Jordan by his cousin Saint John the Baptist, and now it’s time to get on with the ministry he came to do.  So as he moves on, he begins to attract disciples, particularly those who had been followers of Saint John the Baptist.  Most likely, they were there when Jesus was baptized and they experienced the wonders of that moment: when the Father spoke from the heavens and the Holy Spirit descended like a dove.  That had to be amazing!  My guess is they would have wanted to get to know Jesus a little better.

    And so that’s what brings them to the place we are today.  Where are you staying?  Come and you will see.  And see they do.  They recruit Simon Peter, and he joins the group.  Together they will see the sick healed, the paralyzed get up and walk, the leprous cleaned, the possessed set free.  They will see thousands fed by a few loaves and fish.  They will see Jesus’ transfiguration.  But they won’t just see glory, will they?  They will see suffering and death, and will then see resurrection.  After that, they will see what Jesus saw in them – their ability to become the Church and spread the Gospel.

    But at that moment, they had no idea what they would see when they chose to follow Jesus.  Just like they had no idea how to answer Jesus’ question, they had no idea what to expect from their relationship with him.  To find out where they were going to be led, they really did have to make a leap of faith and take him up on his invitation to “Come and see.”

    Which is where we are today, on this first, “ordinary” Sunday of the Church year.  And I’m going to ask you all to pray over this in the week ahead: “What are you looking for?” 

    For me, I’m looking forward to seeing our parishioner Christian Sinclair ordained a transitional deacon. I’m looking forward to working with our seminarians Matthew, and especially Andrew as he experiences his full time internship here at Saint Mary’s.  I’m looking forward to seeing how some of our ministries develop, the fruits of doing some things in our school and religious education programs, and the renewing of our parish pastoral council.  I’m looking forward to receiving some new people into the Church at Easter and throughout the year.  I’m looking forward to celebrating several marriages this year, along with First Communions and Confirmations.  I’m looking forward to seeing how God will continue to work in my life and develop my ministry.  But I know it won’t all be glory: I’ll have to celebrate funerals and say goodbye to some wonderful people.  I’ll have to make hard decisions about our budget and prioritize ministries.  Just like all of your families, there are tough decisions to be made in the running of a parish.

    But I wouldn’t change it for the world.  And I look forward to the journey.  Sometimes things might not happen fast enough for my liking, or maybe they won’t happen in the way I would choose, but I know that along the way, I’ll see more of God’s grace, and that’s worth the ride all in itself.

    So I’ll put this back in your court again.  Let’s pray about this together. Close your eyes and imagine yourself sitting with Jesus and hear him asking, “What are you looking for?” Spend some time now thinking about how you will answer him: What do you hope to see in this new year?  What are your dreams for your spiritual life?  How would you want God to work in your life right now? 

    Take time to tell Jesus what it is you are looking for right now.

    Listen now, as Jesus answers you: “Come, and you will see.” Receive his reassurance that you will see much this coming year, but he will walk with you through it all.  Then we can all pray with the Psalmist: “Here am I Lord; I come to do your will.”

  • The Solemnity of the Epiphany of the Lord

    The Solemnity of the Epiphany of the Lord

    Today’s readings

    “Everyone is upset about this.” “Everyone agrees with this.” “Everyone says we should do it this way.” If you’re in any position of leadership, you have probably heard someone tell you something like this. Anytime I hear it, it’s all I can do to keep from rolling my eyes! The idea, of course, is that there is strength in numbers, and if you’re making an argument, it sounds like it has more weight if you can claim “everyone” has the same opinion. This is the logical fallacy called “argumentum ad populem,” and it’s a telltale sign of insecurity.

    I thought of this as I was reading today’s Gospel reading. It says that Herod, hearing about the Christ child from the magi, was troubled, “and all Jerusalem with him.” Clearly, most of Jerusalem didn’t even know about the magi, or how Herod was feeling, or even about the Christ child perhaps, so it’s a bit of a stretch to think that “all Jerusalem” was troubled. But clearly Herod was, and in his insecurity, he made many mistakes, the least of which was claiming that all of Jerusalem was troubled with him.

    Herod was a jealous and insecure man. His authority rested on the good will of the Roman government, and he was always on the lookout for those who would usurp his throne.  The truth was, his throne wasn’t all that big a deal to begin with. Jerusalem wasn’t that important in the grand Roman scheme of things, but well, it was his.  Three visitors from afar were bad enough to get him feeling uneasy, but when they came asking for the newborn king of the Jews, Herod was furious with jealousy.  He was indeed “greatly troubled” and all Jerusalem – at least all the nobility, the ones who mattered to him – were troubled with him.  He put into motion several schemes to defend his position.  He interrogated the visitors, he put the scribes and chief priests on the case, he even eventually had all the boys less than two years old murdered.  He turned out to be a rather pathetic and miserable king.

    See, darkness covers the earth,
    and thick clouds cover the peoples.

    Herod’s story is not indicative of anything close to the Christmas spirit.  But insecure leaders do crazy things and cause a lot of darkness over their corners of the earth. And insecure leaders don’t have to be kings. They could be teachers, managers, parents, priests.  Insecurity can cause a whole lot of strife, and we’re all capable of darkening the world with it.

    To those of us who have had to deal with this kind of feeling, or perhaps are still dealing with it, Isaiah’s words today provide the best comfort we can hope for:

    But upon you the LORD shines,
    and over you appears his glory.

    Out of the darkness that sometimes permeates our lives and our world, God’s light appears.  Maybe this doesn’t seem like much comfort to those who are suffering in darkness, but here is what we need to hear: God created light out of nothing at all.  The universe was awash in darkness and chaos, but out of that, God brought order and light and everything that exists.  Every light that we see: stars, moon, sun, love, grace, forgiveness, and all the rest; all of these have been created by God and are ways that the Lord shines upon us.

    Today we celebrate the Solemnity of the Epiphany.  An epiphany is a divine revelation into the world of humanity.  It’s God doing a God-thing.  An epiphany is when God breaks through all the mundaneness of our human condition and destroys the insecurities we feel and the limitations of our fallen world and makes his presence known among us.  On this feast of the Epiphany of the Lord, we celebrate our Lord revealing his light to those of us who spend a lot of time observing the darkness.

    Wherever you may find yourself on the darkness spectrum right now, the Epiphany of the Lord can be your redemption.  Indeed, the Epiphany celebrates that God’s light brings radical transformation.  It’s not the paltry comfort of a pat on the back and a “there-there.”  It’s not the relatively small comfort of the resolution of all your problems.  It’s instead the great opulence of brightly-shining gold and the rich fragrance of the most precious incense.  Isaiah says it will be like this:

    Then you shall be radiant at what you see,
    your heart shall throb and overflow,
    for the riches of the sea will be emptied out before you,
    the wealth of the nations shall be brought to you.

    In the darkness of the created world two millennia ago, magi from the east observed a star rising in the eastern sky.  That bright star guided them to the place where they found the newborn king of the Jews. The brightness of that star was nothing compared to the brightness that came into the world with that tiny Child.  In Him, God revealed himself as a loving, compassionate God who does not just observe his creation from afar, but rather breaks into our world, takes on our human condition, and redeems us from the inside out.  God obliterates our insecurities and replaces them with hope and grace and mercy. The Epiphany takes hold of the world in the glory of the Incarnation, and that Incarnation reaches its fulfillment in the Paschal Mystery.  Christ comes to take on our human form, wipe away our sins, and bring us back to the glory of God for which we were created.  The Epiphany is a radical transformation of our world and our lives – for the better.

    May this new year find us watching for our rising star, and finding light for our darkness in Jesus Christ, the light of the world.  May we all find God’s Epiphany in every place we look.

  • Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton, Religious

    Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton, Religious

    Today’s readings

    Mother Seton is a major figure of the Catholic Church in the United States.  Her accomplishments contributed greatly to the growth of Catholicism in this country.  She founded the first American religious community for women, the Sisters of Charity.  She opened the first American parish school and established the first American Catholic orphanage.  All this she did in the span of 46 years while raising her five children.

    Elizabeth was actually born to an Episcopalian family and married an Episcopalian, William Seton, bearing five children with him before his untimely death.  At 30, Elizabeth was widowed, penniless, with five small children to support.

    While in Italy with her dying husband, Elizabeth witnessed Catholicity in action through family friends.  She was drawn to Catholicism because of the Real Presence, devotion to Mary, and the apostolic succession which led back to the original Apostles and to Christ.  She converted to Catholicism in 1805, and because of that, many of her family rejected her.

    But perseverance was a special aspect of her spirituality.  She wrote to her sisters: “Perseverance is a great grace.  To go on gaining and advancing every day, we must be resolute, and bear and suffer as our blessed forerunners did.  Which of them gained heaven without a struggle?”

    It is especially appropriate that we celebrate St. Elizabeth’s feast day during this Christmas season.  Just in the Gospel reading today, Saint Andrew brought his brother Saint Peter to Christ, so Saint Elizabeth radiated Christ in her works of charity and in living the spiritual life.  Praise God that the light of Christ’s most merciful coming has continued to shine in our Church, through the hard work and intercession of holy people like Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton.