Caritas Christi Urget Nos

Category: Prayer

  • Ash Wednesday, Take Two

    Ash Wednesday, Take Two

    [Okay, when I said I wasn’t posting my homily that’s before the snow made me do the 7:30pm Mass instead of our weekend assistant. So here’s the more adult-oriented homily I gave at that Mass, excerpted and adapted from last year.]

    Today’s readings

    Behold: now is the acceptable time!
    Behold: now is the day of salvation!

    We have come here today for all sorts of reasons. Lots of us may still have the remnants of old and bad teaching that you have to come to Church on Ash Wednesday or something horrible will happen to you. When you don’t come to Church on a regular basis, you lose contact with God and the community, and yes, that is pretty horrible, but not in a superstitious kind of way. The real reason we come to Church on this the first day of Lent is for what we celebrate on the day after Lent: the resurrection of the Lord on Easter Sunday. Through the Cross and Resurrection, Jesus has won for us salvation, and we are the grateful beneficiaries of that great gift. All of our Lenten observance, then, is a preparation for the joy of Easter.

    Lent calls us to repent, to break our ties with the sinfulness and the entanglements that are keeping us tethered to the world instead of free to live with our God and receive his gift of salvation. Our Church offers us three ways to do that during Lent. First, we can fast. 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 hungry. The lack of television provides us with a silence that can be filled by God’s presence. 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 to cut our ties with anything that keeps us from God.

    Second, we can pray. We already must pray every day and attend Mass every Sunday. 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, especially during our 40 hours devotion we’ll have next month. 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.

    Third, we can give alms or do works of charity. We can save money for Operation Rice Bowl, or perhaps help to provide a meal at Hesed House. 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. Works of charity might be a family project, perhaps volunteering at a soup kitchen together, or shopping together for items to donate to Loaves and Fishes. 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.
    It is my prayer that this Lent can be a forty day retreat that will bring us all closer to God. 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!”

  • Monday of the Fourth Week of Ordinary Time

    Monday of the Fourth Week of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    “O LORD, how many are my adversaries!” That is what the Psalmist cries out today. And well he might, because we see those many adversaries in today’s Liturgy of the Word.

    The casting out of the demon Legion is a chilling one for us, I think, because it’s really our story. How many of us have had a pattern of sin, or at least a bad habit, in our lives and have struggled long and hard with it? How much that pattern or vice looks like Legion in today’s Gospel. Just as the man possessed had been chained many times, only to have those chains broken by the force of the demon, so we have tried to put away our sins and vices many times, only to have them break through once again, with seemingly more strength than ever. We find that we are just not strong enough to subdue it.

    And the demon is right – he is Legion – there are so many of these things that infest us throughout our lives. The man possessed is a figure for the entire world, infested by a Legion of demons that cannot be restrained. They are afraid, and put in their place, by only one person and that is Jesus Christ. They are afraid of the Christ and know that his power will eventually do much more violence to them than just being cast into a herd of swine that drowns in a sea.

    David knew he was a sinful man, and just in case he forgot, God sent Shimei to remind him. David found the humility to let the man do his work, and he took responsibility for his sinfulness, trusting only in the mercy of God. That’s the call for each of us today. It’s time to stop trying to put chains on our sins and vices to try to hide them or subdue them. It’s time for us to let Christ cast them out – Legion as they may be – and give us the peace that the man possessed found in today’s Gospel.

  • Fourth Sunday of Ordinary Time

    Fourth Sunday of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    Well, here we are, with Lent staring us in the face already. We just finished the season of Christmas and Epiphany, and the year Easter comes early, so we are gearing up for our next intense spiritual season. Today’s liturgy of the word, I think, is a nice transition into that season of Lent for us. We have all heard the Beatitudes so often that we almost tune them out. For most of us, if someone were to stop us on the street and ask us to recite the beatitudes, it would be almost a miracle to be able to give two or three. I don’t think that’s because we don’t know them, but maybe because they are so familiar we don’t keep them on the tip of our tongue.

    And for many of us, it could be that misguided teaching in the past has encouraged us to think of these as the Christian answer to the Ten Commandments, a kind of Christian Law. But Scripture scholars caution us that that was never the intent, and we should hear that with a great deal of relief. I mean, who can live up to all these things anyway? And who would want to? Do you know anyone who would actively seek to be poor, meek or mourning? And who wants to be a peacemaker? Those people have more than their share of grief.

    I think when we hear the beatitudes today, we need to hear them a little differently. We need to hear them as consolation and encouragement on the journey. Because at some point or another, we will all be called upon to be poor, meek and mourning. And the disciple has to be a peacemaker and seek righteousness. We will have grief in this lifetime – Jesus tells us that in another place. What Jesus is saying here, is that those of us undergoing these sorts of trials and still seeking to be righteous people through our sufferings are blessed. And the Greek word that we translate as “blessed” here is makarios, a word that could also be translated as “happy.” Happy are those who suffer for the Kingdom.

    Yeah, right. Who really believes that? I mean, it’s quite a leap of faith to engage our sufferings and still be sane, let alone happy. The ability to see these Beatitudes as true blessings seems like too much to ask for. And yet, that’s what we disciples are being asked to do.

    I think a good part of the reason why this kind of thinking is hard for us, is that it’s completely countercultural. Our society wants us to be happy, pain-free and without a concern in the world. That’s the message we get from commercials that sell us the latest in drugs to combat everything from restless legs to arthritis pain – complete with a horrifying list of side-effects. That’s the message we get from the self-help books out there and the late-night infomercials promising that we can get rich quick, rid our homes of every kind of stain or vermin, or hear all of the best music that’s ever been recorded, all on compact disks delivered conveniently to your door three times a month until long after you’ve gone to be with Jesus. That’s the message we get from Oprah and Dr. Phil and their ilk who encourage us never to be second to anyone and to do everything possible to take care of ourselves. If this is the kind of message we get every time we turn on a television, or pick up a book or newspaper, who on earth would want to be poor in spirit? Who on earth would want to be meek? Who on earth would even think to hunger and thirst for righteousness?

    But the sad fact is that calamity inevitably comes our way. Loved ones take ill, and even die; children turn away from their parents’ teaching and example; people get laid off from jobs to which they’ve given their whole lives. And Jesus is telling us that we need to accept these things with peace – even with happiness – because through them God is working to build up the kingdom.

    Father Bob Barron, one of the theologians who taught me in seminary talked about the Beatitudes as a kind of a theological freedom from addiction. Because we can easily become addicted to all the comforts of our society, addicted to the happiness and euphoria that the secular media promise us. But if we are to be blessed – if we are to be truly happy – we have to combat our addiction to all that. Maybe we can read these Beatitudes a little like this:

    Blessed are they who are not addicted to good feelings, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are they who are not addicted to happiness, for they will be comforted. Blessed are those who are not addicted to power, for they will inherit the land. Blessed are they who are not addicted to having things their own way, for they will be satisfied. Blessed are those who are not addicted to vengeance and retribution, for will be shown mercy. Blessed are they who are not addicted to being first and right, for they will be called children of God. Blessed are they who are not addicted to being non-confrontational, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when you are not addicted to being popular. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven.

    The reason we shouldn’t be addicted to all these seemingly good things is that seeking satisfaction on our own closes us off to the real blessings God wants to give us. Blessings like peace, fullness, even inheriting the Kingdom of heaven. These are blessings of great worth, but we absolutely will not receive them if we settle for the shoddy joy of being addicted to good feelings.

    What would happen if we all started to think that way? What would happen if we suddenly decided it wasn’t all about us? What would happen if we decided that the utmost priority in life was not merely taking care of ourselves, but instead taking care of others, trusting that in that way, everyone – including ourselves – would be taken care of? What would happen if we were not so addicted to ourselves and so did not miss the opportunity to come to know others and grow closer to our Lord? That would indeed be a day of great rejoicing and gladness, I can assure you that.

    And I’m not saying you shouldn’t take care of yourself. We all need to do that to some extent, and maybe sometimes we don’t do that as well as we should – I’ll even speak for myself on that one. But when we consume ourselves with ourselves, nothing good can come from it. Maybe this is a kind of balance that we could spend our Lent striving to achieve.

    Today’s Liturgy of the Word calls us to a kind of humility that remembers that God is God and we are not. This isn’t some kind of false humility that says we are good for nothing, because God never made anything that was good for nothing. Instead, it is a humility that reminds us that what is best in us is what God has given us. As St. Paul says today, “God chose the foolish of the world to shame the wise, and God chose the weak of the world to shame the strong, and God chose the lowly and despised of the world, those who count for nothing, to reduce to nothing those who are something, so that no human being might boast before God.” If we would remember that everything that we have and everything we are is a gift to us, if we would remember that it is up to us to care for one another, if we would remember that being addicted to good feelings only makes us feel worse than ever, if we would but humble ourselves and let God give us everything that we really need, we would never be in want. Rejoice and be glad, rejoice and be glad!

  • The Presentation of the Lord II

    The Presentation of the Lord II

    Today’s Readings

    Back in the time that Jesus lived, it was a law that every first-born male in a family was presented to God, given to God to do God’s will. They would come on the fortieth day of the child’s life and present the child, along with a sacrificial offering and they would receive a blessing from one of the priests. It hardly seems possible, but it’s already been forty days since Christmas, since the day Jesus was born! How time flies for us!
    Of course, you have to love the irony in the story here because, in the case of Jesus, his parents were presenting a child to God who came in a special way from God himself. They were giving back to God the child that God only gave them to take care of for a while. Just as every first-born son was presented to God in order to do something special with his life, this first, and only born Son of God and son of Mary and Joseph had the most special thing ever to do with his life, and that was to lay his life down for all of us.
    On this feast day every year, we bless candles to light the Church and light people’s homes. We do that because we remember that on this day, Jesus, who is the Light of the World, was presented to the wise old Simeon, who recognized that Jesus was the Light that was to come into the world. God’s Spirit had promised that he would never die until he saw that Light, and now he knew that he could die in peace.
    Simeon was at peace because he knew that God was lighting the world and taking care of his people who used to dwell in darkness. The same is true for all of us. Sometimes the world can be a dark place because of war or violence or hatred, or many other evils. It can be hard to see where our world is going in times like that, and oftentimes we ourselves fall into temptation or into sin. We need light to show us the way out of all that darkness.
    And, of course, we have that light. Jesus is the one who came into the world and lit up the world and lights up our lives. He lit up the lives of Mary, and Joseph, and Simeon and now he lights up our lives and shows us the way out of the darkness. Even if we do fall here and there, Jesus’ light helps us to get back up and get going on the path once again.
    The Lord is our light and our salvation. Whom should we fear?

  • The Presentation of the Lord I

    The Presentation of the Lord I

    Today’s readings (Used a “vigil” of this feast for the school children to close Catholic Schools Week.)

    Back in the time that Jesus lived, it was a law that every first-born male in a family was presented to God, given to God to do God’s will. They would come on the fortieth day of the child’s life and present the child, along with a sacrificial offering and they would receive a blessing from one of the priests. It hardly seems possible, but it’s already been forty days since Christmas, since the day Jesus was born! How time flies for us!

    What’s really interesting is that, in the case of Jesus, his parents were presenting a child to God who came in a special way from God himself. They were giving back to God the child that God only gave them to take care of. Just as every first-born son was presented to God in order to do something special with his life, this first, and only born Son of God and son of Mary and Joseph had the most special thing to do with his life, and that was to lay his life down for all of us.

    On this feast day every year, we bless candles to light the Church and light people’s homes. We do that because we remember that on this day, Jesus, who is the Light of the World, was presented to the wise old Simeon, who recognized that Jesus was the Light that was to come into the world. God’s Spirit had promised he would never die until he saw that Light, and now he knew that he could die in peace.

    Simeon was at peace because he knew that God was lighting the world and taking care of his people who used to dwell in darkness. The same is true for all of us. The darkness can be pretty scary, can’t it? Certainly when we wake up in the middle of the night and can’t see anything, it’s scary because we could fall over something. That’s a lot like how life in this world can be sometimes. Sometimes the world is dark because of war or violence or people hating one another. It can be hard to see where our world is going in times like that, and oftentimes we fall into temptation or into sin. We need light to show us the way out of all that darkness.

    Who is that light? Well, of course we know that light is Jesus. Jesus is the one who came into the world and lit up the world and lights up our lives. He lit up the lives of Mary, and Joseph, and Simeon and lots of people when he was living on earth. Now that he has died for us and is risen from the dead, Jesus lights up our life and shows us the way out of the darkness. Even if we do fall here and there, Jesus’ light helps us to get back up and get going on the path once again.

    So as we come to the end of Catholic Schools Week this year, it’s a perfect feast for us to celebrate. The theme for our week has been “Catholic Schools Light the Way.” It’s only fitting to have that theme when we end up on this feast of Jesus, the Light of the World. If this week has taught us anything, it certainly must be that we receive the light from Jesus, that Light comes in a special way through Jesus’ presence in our school, and now we are called to be light for others.

    Our school is a place of the Light when we reach out to each other and help those who are in need, whether they need help with their studies, or just need a friend. Our school is a place of the Light when we reach out as one to help those who are poor and needy. Our school is a place of the light when teachers give of themselves, guiding our young people with wisdom; and when students are open to what they are being taught; and when parents make the Light known at home. When we all share the light that we have been given, when we are light for others, that light can light some of the really dark places of our world. Maybe we won’t get rid of all that darkness today or all at once. But little by little, the light we bring by doing God’s will in our lives will brighten our world one heart and mind at a time.

    The Lord is our light and our salvation. Whom should we fear?

    (UPDATE: I never gave this homily, because the kids had a snow day. So I just preached on the readings of the day, homily below.)

  • Friday of the Third Week of Ordinary Time

    Friday of the Third Week of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    The story of David and Bathsheba and Uriah the Hittite is compelling. It almost seems like the kind of thing you’d hear on a soap opera or some kind of crime drama. But here we have it right at the beginning of our Liturgy of the Word today. This reading is teaching us the fact that we all need a Savior. Even the greatest among us is a sinner. David, the Lord’s anointed, the one from whose lineage the Savior was to be born, even his was tragically flawed and needed that very Savior.

    We see David’s sin grow in intensity. First he does not go down with his army on the campaign, but instead takes a siesta in his palace. Then he rises and notices Bathsheba. Then he lusts after her. He then sends for her and has relations with her – he may even have raped her, because we are not told how willing a participant Bathsheba was in all this. Finally, when it became apparent that the affair would be known, he has Uriah the Hittite killed in battle to cover up the sin. This is the kind of thing that happens when sin is unconfessed and is allowed to fester.

    Today’s Psalm, Psalm 51, was written by David after the Lord convicts him of the sin. He makes a perfect act of contrition: he confesses his sin, asks pardon for his offense, and prays that he would be restored to the rejoicing and gladness that God’s people are promised.

    The Kingdom of God is supposed to be like that tiny mustard seed, planted in the garden, that grows to a humongous plant that becomes a refuge for the birds of the air. The way to water and tend that seed is by confessing our sin, allowing God to work his mercy in our lives, and allowing him to restore us to the rejoicing and gladness that we were created for. Have mercy on us, O Lord, for we have sinned.

  • Third Sunday of Ordinary Time

    Third Sunday of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    About fifteen years ago now, my home parish put on a production of the musical Godspell, and somehow I found myself part of the cast. If you’ve ever seen the musical, you know that it is based on the Gospel of Matthew, the Gospel that we are reading during this Church year. I remember the first song of the musical was kind of strange to me at the time. It’s called “Tower of Babble” and the lyrics are a hodge-podge of lots of philosophies and philosophers throughout time. I didn’t get, at the time, the significance of the song, but I do now. “Tower of Babble” represents the thoughts about God, over time. It shows how philosophy at its worst has been an attempt to figure out God by going over God’s head, by leaving God out of the picture completely.

    The song ends abruptly and goes right into the second song of the musical, “Prepare Ye,” of which the major lyric is “Prepare ye the way of the Lord.” The author’s view is that the useless, and in some ways sinful, babbling of the philosophers was once and for all settled by Jesus Christ. If we want to know the meaning of life, if we want to know who God is, we have only to look to Jesus.

    That’s what is happening in today’s Liturgy of the Word too. The people in the first reading and in the Gospel have found themselves in darkness. Zebulun and Naphtali have been degraded. They have been punished for their sinfulness, the sin being that they thought they didn’t need God. They thought they could get by on their own cleverness, making alliances with people who believed in strange gods and worshiped idols. So now they find themselves occupied by the people with whom they tried to ally themselves. Today’s first reading tells them that this subjection – well deserved as it may be – is coming to an end. The people who have dwelt in darkness are about to see a great light.

    The same is true in another sense for Peter and Andrew and the sons of Zebedee in today’s Gospel. These guys have been fishermen all their lives. Further research in the Gospels would lead us to believe they haven’t been real successful fishermen at that. But the point is that fishing is all they’ve ever known. These are not learned men, nor are they known for their charisma or ability to lead people. But these are the men who Jesus calls as apostles. Presumably these men have not known anything about Jesus, but on seeing him and hearing him and recognizing the Light of the World, they drop everything, turn their backs on the people and work they have always known, and follow Jesus, whose future they could never have imagined.

    All of this is good news for us. Because we too dwell in darkness at times, don’t we? We can turn on the news and see reports of men and women dying in war, crime and violence in our communities, corruption in government, and maybe worst of all at this time, sniping between political candidates! Then there is the rampant disrespect for life through abortion, euthanasia, lack of access to health care for the poor, hunger and homelessness, racism and hatred, and so much more. Add to that the darkness in our own lives: illness of a family member or death of a loved one, difficulty in relating to family members, and even our own sinfulness. Sometimes it doesn’t take much imagination to know that our world is a very dark place indeed.

    But the Liturgy today speaks to us the truth that into all of this darkness, the Light of Christ has dawned and illumined that darkness in ways that forever change our world and forever change us. The alternate opening prayer for today’s Liturgy speaks of that change:

    Almighty Father,

    The love you offer

    always exceeds the furthest expression of our human longing,

    for you are greater than the human heart.

    Direct each thought, each effort of our life,

    so that the limits of our faults and weaknesses

    may not obscure the vision of your glory

    or keep us from the peace you have promised.

    Grant this through Christ our Lord.

    The limits that are part and parcel of our human existence are no match for the light that is God’s glory. This is what we mean by the Epiphany, and we continue to live in the light of the Epiphany in these opening days of Ordinary Time. Now that Jesus Christ has come into the world, nothing on earth can obscure the vision of God’s glory that we see in our Savior.

    So for those of us who feel like every day is a struggle of some sort, and who wonder if this life really means anything, the Good news is that Jesus has come to give meaning to our struggles and to walk with us as we go through them. For those of us who are called to ministries for which we might feel unqualified – as catechists, Eucharistic Ministers, Lectors, RCIA team members, small group leaders or retreat leaders – we can look to the Apostles and see that those fishermen were transformed from the darkness of their limited life to the light of what they were able to accomplish in Christ Jesus. Wherever we feel darkness in our lives, the Good News for us is that Christ’s Epiphany – his manifestation into our world and into our lives – has overcome all that.

    As the Psalmist sings for us today, the Lord truly is our light and our salvation.

  • The Anniversary of Roe v. Wade

    The Anniversary of Roe v. Wade

    Today’s readings

    “Not as man sees does God see,
    because he sees the appearance
    but the LORD looks into the heart.”

    This instruction to Samuel is both a good thing and a bad thing for us, I think. It’s good because it’s nice to know that there is One who does not judge us on what we look like or how we dress or what we do for a living, but rather on what is in our heart. It’s bad, because there is One who looks into our hearts and sees everything.

    How easy it can be for us to judge people. We want to quickly put people into categories and then almost write them off. But today’s first reading reminds us that we need to be careful about making judgments because we have not been given the gift of the big picture. Only God can see into people’s hearts, only God knows who people really are and can judge with authenticity.

    Today is the anniversary of the tragic Roe v. Wade decision that legalized abortion in our country. Since then, our society has tumbled down the slippery slope of devaluing life and we are seeing the rotten fruits of it all over. War, violence, hatred, lack of concern for the poor and needy, lack of respect for the elderly and terminally ill, all of these things are symptoms of the culture of death that surrounds us. Far from liberating women and giving them choice over the use of their bodies, the legalization of abortion has driven many women to have an abortion simply because they thought that was their only option or because it was more convenient for family or the father.

    But the Lord looks into our hearts and knows what’s really there. We cannot claim to be Pro Life if we are in fact only anti-abortion. Our claim to righteousness has to be based on more than never having had the disastrous occasion of having to choose to participate in an abortion, or it’s not really righteousness at all. If we pray to end abortion and then do not attend to our obligation to the poor, or if we choose to support the death penalty, or if we engage in racial bigotry, then we are not in fact Pro Life. Every life, every life, every life is sacred, no matter what we may think of it. Because God sees into the heart. And more important that that, God created that heart.

    And I say all this not because I don’t think that abortion is a disaster: it certainly is. I say this because it’s way too easy for us to oppose abortion and then call ourselves Pro Life and then go out and violate life in some other circumstance. We must be very careful of doing that, because God sees into our hearts too.

    This year we will have the opportunity and the obligation to vote for a president and other leaders who will govern our country in the years ahead. We will all have to be careful about selecting a candidate who is Pro Life, which for the Church means not just anti-abortion, but also a person who supports life at every stage from conception to natural death. I would go so far as to guarantee you that there is not one candidate out there who fits the bill entirely. All we can do is select the best person, and pray for a continuing change of heart, a continuing conversion in their lives.

    And maybe that conversion needs to start in our own life. Because other people will see in us whatever they’re going to notice. But God – God sees into our hearts.

  • Second Sunday of Ordinary Time

    Second Sunday of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    This Church year, this year of grace, began last November with the First Sunday of Advent. Since then, we’ve been through Advent and Christmas, Epiphany and the Baptism of the Lord. Today is our first “green” Sunday, actually the Second Sunday of Ordinary Time. (The First Sunday of Ordinary Time is actually the Baptism of the Lord). So, on this first Ordinary Time Sunday that we’re celebrating, we have a Gospel reading that sounds suspiciously like the Gospel reading for the Baptism of the Lord. Confusing, isn’t it? Whenever this kind of thing happens, though, we should ask ourselves what it is that the Church is trying to do, what is it that She is trying to teach us with these readings.

    And the first place to start, usually, is by looking at the whole Liturgy of the Word today. When we do that, I think, we find a group of readings that speak of beginnings, which, as it turns out, is not a bad way to start out our celebration of Ordinary Time. But before we launch into a look at the readings, let’s talk a bit about Ordinary Time. There’s a tendency, when we hear that phrase, to think of these Sundays as just “ordinary” or “blah” – nothing special. That’s what the term “ordinary” means to us English Speakers. But that’s not what the Church is going for. A better translation would perhaps be “ordered time” a time that is marked out, set aside, and always observed. That means we don’t have permission to skip them, and that we ought to keep them holy. At its core, “Ordinary Time” Sundays are Sundays made sacred because they are connected to the death and resurrection of the Lord. They are ultimately a celebration of the Lord’s Day through and through.

    So on this first of the “ordered time” Sundays, we have a look at some beginnings. The first of the beginnings is the commissioning of the servant in our first reading from Isaiah. The servant may actually be Israel, and if so, God seems to be speaking to the nation while they are in Exile. He is calling them back and foretelling that not only will they be God’s servant to bring back and restore and reunite Israel and Jacob, but they will also bring salvation to all the world. This might not have been real good news for them, perhaps, because presumably that would include the very nation that had been oppressing them while they were in Exile. But nonetheless, whenever we receive a gift, it is never just for us, so it wouldn’t do for God’s servant to just restore what’s familiar to them, they must go out to all the world and bring salvation.

    The Psalmist follows up on that notion, giving the servant’s response: “Here am I, Lord; I come to do your will.” Let’s take a look at what goes on in this Psalm. First, the Psalmist seems to be involved in some sort of difficulty for which he has been waiting on the Lord. The Lord, for his part, has taken notice, stooped toward him and heard his cry. The response of the Psalmist to his deliverance is one of witnessing. He announces the justice of the Lord and does not restrain his lips.

    The second reading from the beginning of First Corinthians is a little strange in some ways. All we get are the first three verses of Paul’s letter to them, and it seems to just be a simple greeting: From Paul to the Corinthians, grace and peace. But these few verses tell us a bit more than that. They speak to the vision that Paul has of his own vocation, and of his belief in Christ. First, he proclaims himself to be an apostle. This is important, because an apostle is more than just a follower or even a disciple. An apostle is one who is sent with the full authority of the one who sends him. Paul has never met Jesus, at least not in person, but he had an experience that clearly revealed Jesus to him, and sent him forth with a mission. Paul then tells us what he believes about Jesus. He never mentions Jesus without referring to him as the Christ, that is, the Anointed One, the Messiah. Jesus for him was no ordinary person. If that were true, Paul would still be out persecuting the Christians instead of leading them as an Apostle. Jesus is the one the Jews were always hoping for, the one to bring salvation. Jesus is the Christ who sanctifies his people.

    And finally we come back to John’s version of the Baptism of the Lord. In this version, from the Gospel of John, we don’t see the actual moment, but hear John the Baptist’s take on it. He stresses that he did not know who Jesus was; he mentions that twice in his account. The way he came to know that Jesus was the Christ was through revelation. He was told ahead of time what signs to look for, and when he sees the Spirit come down upon Jesus like a dove after he comes out of the water, then John knows that Jesus is the one he was told to look for. So finally he becomes the herald of the Lord, the mission he was called to from his mother’s womb. “Behold the Lamb of God,” he says, “who takes away the sins of the world.” Now he sees and testifies that Jesus is the Lamb of God.

    So we have three beginnings today. We have the beginning of Israel’s call to be a servant of the Lord, to bring his salvation to the ends of the earth. We have the beginning of Paul’s correspondence to the Church at Corinth, telling them that they are God’s holy people, having been sanctified by Jesus the Christ. And we have the beginning of the recognition of who Jesus is in the Gospels, one anointed by the Spirit at his baptism, one who takes away the sin of the world. It is appropriate that at the beginning of our celebration of ordered time, we would celebrate these three beginnings.

    What we need to get about time itself is that it is not pointless. It’s not some meaningless trip through the ages that gets us nowhere. Time is not a waste of time. For the Christian, time is sanctified by God who entered into time with salvation through Jesus Christ. And so today, God blesses our beginnings. What is it that we need to begin these days? Is there a call to something deeper as a disciple that we have been putting off? Is our relationship with God at a turning point, and do we need to get out of our comfort zone to explore that relationship? Are we being called to take our careers in a new direction, becoming people of greater integrity to witness to the Gospel in our workplaces? Are students being called to take their studies more seriously, learning the great wonders that God has placed before them? Are parents being called to bring their families to a holier place this year, remembering that all that they have and all that they experience is a gift? Whatever it is that we need to start right now, God is sanctifying that beginning by reminding us that all of time is holy and that all of time is a gift.

    We must make use of this present moment, this sacred space of time, because we can never get it back once it’s passed. It’s not too late to make resolutions, and it’s certainly not too late to start working on the ones we have already made. Today is a day of beginnings, beginnings not just for Israel and Corinth and Jesus, but also beginnings of our own histories, entering into the time with which God is blessing us. Our offering today is an offering of these beginnings, looking at them as gifts of God, and responding “Here am I, Lord; I come to do your will.”

  • Saturday of the First Week of Ordinary Time

    Saturday of the First Week of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    “Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?”

    My question is, “why do you care?” I mean, if these scribes who were Pharisees had really been concerned about the keeping of the Law, strict observance of the Commandments and following their God, they should be deeply concerned about their own progress in these things and not care so much about what other people are doing. We all know why Jesus eats with the tax collectors and sinners. We can’t get caught up in all that nonsense; we’re just happy to be at the meal at all. Or we should be

    Religious people are so often tempted to this Pharisaic outlook. Jesus would say in another place: why do we get so upset about the splinter in our brother or sister’s eye that we miss the plank in our own? The ironic thing in today’s Gospel is the ending. The sick are the ones who need the doctor, not those who are well. But that is precisely the point: who among us is well enough not to need the One who is the Doctor of our Souls? Doctors will tell us that the patients who do the best, particularly with serious illness, are those who know their need for healing and cooperate. No one can make us well if we refuse to acknowledge our illnesses.

    The next time we’re all tempted to judge someone else, and to question their salvation, perhaps we should pay more attention to what’s going on in us. Are we worthy of being at the banquet? Of course not. But yet here we are, called and graced by our Lord. So why expend a lot of energy trying to edit the guest list? As we come to the table, let us remember that we are all alike in that we are sinners, but we are all one in that we are forgiven and restored and brought to the table and given places of honor. All of us tax collectors and sinners gather around the Table of the Lord and partake of the rich feast that makes us whole.