Category: Preaching, Homiletics & Scripture

  • St. John, Apostle and Evangelist

    St. John, Apostle and Evangelist

    Today’s readings | Today’s saint

    StJohnBig“He saw and believed.” The “other” disciple, often called the “beloved” disciple or the disciple “whom Jesus loved,” is St. John the Apostle and Evangelist, the one we celebrate today. St. John had a very special relationship with Christ. He wasn’t as zealous and boisterous as Peter could be, but he had a faith as strong as Peter’s in his own way. His was a faith that observed and processed and believed. His was a faith that grew quietly, as he made connections between what Jesus prophesied and what came to pass. It’s no wonder that when he stood at the tomb, “he saw and believed.”

    In John’s writings, the theme of love is almost overwhelming. We hear that in today’s first reading, from John’s first letter. That love is bound up in the whole theme of fleshly existence. John proclaims that because God loved the world so much, he could not bear to be apart from us or aloof from our nature. Instead, he took on our fleshly existence, this body that can so often fail us, can so often turn to sin and degradation, can so often lead us in the wrong direction. Taking on that flawed human flesh, God proclaims once and for all that we have been created good, that we have been created in love, and that nothing can ever stand in the way of the love God has for us.

    John’s preaching of love and the goodness of our created bodies is a preaching that has a very special place in the celebration of Christmas. It was because of that love that God had for us, a love that encompasses our bodies and our souls, that he came to live among us and take flesh in our world. His most merciful coming was completely part of his loving plan for our salvation. That’s the message St. John brings us on his feast day today, and throughout this celebration of Christmas.

  • The Nativity of the Lord

    The Nativity of the Lord

    Various readings for Mass

    christmas-nativityThe older I get, the more I become convinced that every Christmas has its own flavor, and every Christmas comes with its own gifts. Not the kinds of gifts you wrap and put under the tree, but the kinds of gifts that fill your heart and give you the grace to move into the year ahead.

    When I was little, my Christmas enthusiasm could hardly be contained. I kept Advent by opening a door each day on a little cardboard calendar, to see what was underneath. But the picture on the calendar probably wasn’t as important to me as the days passing by. The eagerness of my anticipation was for that moment on Christmas morning, when I’d wake up way earlier than I would on any other day, wake my sisters and parents and go down to open gifts. We would spend those opening moments of the day together, and there was a warmth that came from the love we had for each other. The gift of those Christmases was one of eagerness, they joyfulness of anticipation being fulfilled, and the sharing of love with those who loved me back.

    As a teen, I knew a little more about what Christmas meant. Some of our family traditions came to mean more to me: the cookies we baked, visits to family on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, going to Mass as a family. There was still a sense of anticipation but it was a little different now. I anticipated time off from school – whether I was in high school or college – and I looked forward to seeing loved ones I hadn’t seen in a while. The gift of those Christmases was singing one more Christmas Carol because Grandma’s new oven wasn’t cooking the turkey as fast as the old one, of enjoying old and new family traditions, and the joy of days spent without papers due or tests to study for.

    As a young adult, my faith became more important to me. I was involved in my church and spent many hours practicing music and preparing to celebrate music with the choir I was in. For several of those years, I wrote the mini lessons and carols service that we did before Mass began. There was a busyness of that time and a growing anticipation of being able to celebrate my faith with a community that knew that same faith. It was a time to pull out all the stops and celebrate the Mass with a bit more solemnity and joy. Even at work, there was talk of our traditions both family and religious, and the sharing of belief that Christ was present even in the mundane day-to-dayness of our work. The gift of those Christmases was one of renewed faith, and the joy of celebrating the wonder of the Incarnation – the birth of our God into our world – with people who helped me to grow in that faith.

    When I went to seminary, things changed a lot. The anticipation of Advent was held in an environment that was slowly teaching me how to preside in it. I learned more about the traditions of our faith, the vibrancy of Scripture, the poetry and hymnody that made me long to be filled with Christ in new ways. Going to Christmas Mass became a strange, but not unpleasant experience: wondering what it was going to be like to celebrate Christmas as a priest. The gift of those Christmases was a personal growth that helped me to see who I was as God’s son, and who he was calling me to be.

    Last year, my first year as a priest, I got to experience the joy of being a priest at Christmas. The days of Advent anticipation were filled with hearing confessions and school programs, and the many things that go on here in the parish. I got to go to not just one Christmas Mass, but three or four! My role had changed not only at Church, but also in my family, and I attended my family Christmas gatherings with, well, exhaustion! The gift of last Christmas was being able to celebrate Christmas by celebrating the Eucharist as a priest.

    This year, things are a little different for me. Dad died in May, and so I think the anticipation of Christmas for me has been a little bit weird. I approach this holy day with a little heaviness of heart, with a sense of loss. I never put up the Manger Dad and Mom gave me last year. I didn’t because one of the pieces – the angel – was broken, and Dad was going to help me fix it. We never got around to it, and I didn’t want to open the box and see the missing piece, which for me represents the missing piece of my family this Christmas. I’m not sure what the gift will be this Christmas. I guess none of us can know what the gift will be for us just yet. I’d be tempted to think there won’t be a gift, but only sadness, except that’s not who I am, and certainly that’s not who Dad was. I do have a certain sense of anticipation, and it’s anticipation of the hope that waits for us all.

    What kinds of Christmases have you celebrated? You might find some of them are like some of mine, or maybe that you have others. The gifts, I am sure, differ from year to year. Maybe your Christmases have been happy, and maybe you have had the occasional sad one. But there’s always a gift. More specifically, there’s always the gift: Jesus Christ, born into our world, God with us, God our salvation, has come to give us everlasting life.

    Pope Benedict says in his encyclical, Spe Salvi that “God is the foundation of hope: not any god, but the God who has a human face and who has loved us to the end, each one of us and humanity in its entirety. His kingdom is not an imaginary hereafter, situated in a future that will never arrive; his Kingdom is present wherever he is loved and wherever his love reaches us. His love alone gives us the possibility of soberly persevering day by day, without ceasing to be spurred on by hope, in a world which by its very nature is imperfect” (Pope Benedict XVI, Spe Salvi, 31).

    God’s love reaches us every time we come to this holy place and celebrate the Eucharist. The hope that we have in Christ is the only hope worth waiting for, the only hope that can bring to fruition the desires of our hearts and the anticipation of our souls. And so this Christmas, whatever flavor of Christmas we’re having, the gift – the real gift – is as it has always been, the presence of Christ among us, the eternal life he brings us, and the love that he pours out on us. Perhaps that gift will give us the ability to forge ahead in the year to come and bring the presence of Christ, the light of Christ, to a dark and lonely world.

    Because we don’t just celebrate (tonight / today) something that happened two thousand years ago; we celebrate the fact that God is born into our lives and into our world every time we open ourselves up to his forgiveness and renewal, cling to the hope he brings us, and allow him to make us his holy people. When we stand up for the rights of the unborn, the powerless, and the disenfranchised, Christ is born among us and warms up our cold and heartless world. When we reach out to others who are needy or lonely or oppressed, Christ is born among us and gives light to our darkness. When we introduce someone to the Church or witness to our faith by being people of integrity, Christ is born among us and revitalizes a world grown listless in despair. When we receive our Lord in the Eucharist and go forth from this place to love and serve the Lord, Christ is born into a world that desperately needs his presence. Christ is born in every moment when his people allow him to be present through their lives.

    On this Christmas, a watching world looks to all of us who call ourselves Christian. Can we make the hope of all the nations present by our living the Gospel? When the world sees that happen, when enough people take notice, maybe all the earth can take part in our singing:

    Glory to God in the highest, and peace to God’s people on earth!

    On behalf of Fr. Ted and me, Deacon Chuck and Deacon Tom, and all the parish staff, may God bless you and your families this Christmas. May you find Christ in every moment of the coming year

  • Fourth Sunday of Advent: O Emmanuel

    Fourth Sunday of Advent: O Emmanuel

    Today’s readings

    O 7emmanuelHow often have you wondered why God allows this or that calamity to happen, or why God hasn’t put an end to one injustice or another? When you’re in the thick of frustration, or even sorrow, do you question why a loving God wouldn’t put an end to all of that? Do you question whether God really loves you at all? I don’t know anyone who hasn’t wondered about that kind of thing at one time or another in their lives. On Friday, we had the funeral of a man who died suddenly, at a relatively early age, this close to Christmas. I have no idea how that kind of thing gets to be part of God’s plan. I really don’t. Making sense of the frustration, tragedy, and sadness in our lives is a gift that I’m not sure anyone really has. Some people can handle difficult times better than others, but the real understanding of pain is something that I think is in some ways beyond us.

    So what keeps us going day after day? Pope Benedict gives us a hint at what’s needed in his encyclical, Spe Salvi: “Let us say once again:” he tells us, “we need the greater and lesser hopes that keep us going day by day” (Pope Benedict XVI, Spe Salvi, 31). The greater and lesser hopes to which he refers are the things we think of when we are grasping for hope. A smile from a four-year old, a hug from a friend, getting a project finished, a word of encouragement from a coworker, that kind of thing. Those might be what he calls “lesser” hopes, they are the kind of thing for which my grandmother used to say, “Thank God for small favors!”

    The “greater” hopes he’s talking about might be the knowledge that something we worked long and hard on made a difference to a person, or to a community, or even to those we work with. Maybe it’s the favorable diagnosis, or the resolution of a problem. It could even be reconciliation with a loved one. But Pope Benedict acknowledges that sometimes even these are not enough and only one kind of hope can ever be enough to bring us into the kingdom. He says, “But these are not enough without the great hope, which must surpass everything else. This great hope can only be God, who encompasses the whole of reality and who can bestow upon us what we, by ourselves, cannot attain” (Spe Salvi, 31).

    This is the kind of hope that Ahaz needed in our first reading. In that day, Jerusalem was being attacked by Rezah and Pekah, kings of neighboring nations. They were not successful, but the feeling was it would only be a matter of time before Jerusalem, the capital city of Judah, fell to their oppressors. Isaiah, in our reading today, is trying to calm Ahaz with the knowledge that God is in control. He invites Ahaz to ask God for anything his heart desires. But Ahaz refuses. Rather than open himself up to the peace that God has in store for him, and cling to the hope God offers, he prefers to cloak himself in false humility and take care of things on his own.

    But this is not to be. Frustrated, Isaiah offers Ahaz a sign: a virgin would conceive and bear a son who was to be named Emmanuel, a name that the Gospels tell us means “God is with us.” Which is incredibly good news for Ahaz, because with all that Jerusalem was going through, it had to seem like they were on their own. But that was never the case, God was with them and promised them salvation from their enemies. Now that’s the kind of great hope that Pope Benedict is talking about.

    In these later days of Advent, we are given the many names of our Savior. Today we hear that he is to be named Jesus. And the original hearers of this story would have realized what that meant. But for us who don’t speak Hebrew, Scripture scholars tell us that the name “Jesus” means “The LORD is Salvation.” Jesus, our Emmanuel, our God with us, is the one for whom we have longed from the beginning of the world, into Isaiah and Ahaz’s time, even up to our own day.

    There’s a wonderful tradition in the Church that in the latest days of Advent, we meditate on what’s called the “O Antiphons.” There is one of these “O Antiphons” for each day starting on the 17th of December. The antiphons are prayed at Vespers, or Evening Prayer each day, and they are part also of the great hymn “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” that we will sing at the Offertory today. When we sing it, I invite you to meditate on the words and hear in them the many ways in which Jesus is our Salvation.

    On Monday, the antiphon was “O Wisdom,” and we reflected on the fact that it is only through God’s wisdom that we could come to salvation. Tuesday was “O Sacred Lord,” and we heard that our Lord once appeared to Moses in the burning bush, extending his hand to bring his people salvation. Wednesday was “O Root of Jesse,” which called on the Lord to extend his roots into the depths of hell and the grave to bring his people everlasting life. Thursday was “O Key of David,” the one who could unlock the many barriers that are between us and God. Friday was “O Radiant Dawn,” the coming of the One who brings light to our darkness. Yesterday was “O King of all the Nations,” because our Lord is the fulfillment of every need and desire universally. Today is the last of these “O Antiphons” and today we sing “O Emmanuel” – God with us – be present to us now and give us your grace and courage.

    So, will Emmanuel take away all of our frustrations, sadness and pain? Well maybe not now. But one day, when the time is right, and everything is brought back to the One who made it in the first place. Until then, we may have suffering, but we will also and always have hope in Jesus our Emmanuel, our God with us, in good times and in bad, in this day and every day to come. We can cling to this hope because our God is not just any god as Pope Benedict points out, but “the God who has a human face and who has loved us to the end, each one of us and humanity in its entirety. His Kingdom is not an imaginary hereafter, situated in a future that will never arrive; his Kingdom is present wherever he is loved and wherever his love reaches us. His love alone gives us the possibility of soberly persevering day by day, without ceasing to be spurred on by hope, in a world which by its very nature is imperfect” (Spe Salvi, 31).

    So we can let our hopes be outrageous, deep as the netherworld and high as the sky. Because we have our Jesus, our God who is salvation, our Emmanuel, God with us, who longs to reach out to us and bring our greatest hopes to fulfillment. “O Emmanuel, king and lawgiver, desire of the nations, Savior of all people, come and set us free, Lord our God” (Vespers, December 23).

  • Saturday of the Third Week of Lent: O King of all the Nations

    Saturday of the Third Week of Lent: O King of all the Nations

    Today’s readings

    O 6kingWe hear a similar song from Hannah and Mary today. In fact, many Biblical scholars suggest that the song of Mary we heard in today’s Gospel is a restatement of the song of Hannah that we have in today’s psalm. Whether or not that is true, it is clear that both women give birth to a child by the grace of God, and both women’s sons are destined for greatness. Samuel’s strength is a foreshadowing of the strength of Jesus Christ who will overcome sin and death.

    Samuel becomes a great king, but it is Jesus who becomes King of all the Nations, which is the title of Jesus we celebrate in the “O Antiphons” today. The verse from vespers prays,

    O King of all the nations, the only joy of every human heart; O Keystone of the mighty arch of man, come and save the creature you formed from the dust.

    And our verse from “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” sings:

    O come, Desire of nations, bind
    In one the hearts of all mankind;
    Bid Thou our sad divisions cease,
    And be Thyself our King of Peace.

    Today we anxiously await the strength of Christ, King of all the Nations, the only joy of every human heart. He alone can save us from our sins. He alone can unify the hearts of all humankind, putting to an end, once and for all, the sad divisions that keep us from the communion we were always meant to have with one another. Lord Jesus, King of Peace, King of all the Nations, come quickly and do not delay!

  • O Oriens (O Radiant Dawn)

    O Oriens (O Radiant Dawn)

    O 5dawnVespers

    O Radiant Dawn, splendor of eternal light, sun of justice: come, shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death.

    Hymnody

    O come, Thou Day-spring, come and cheer
    Our spirits by Thine advent here;
    Disperse the gloomy clouds of night,
    And death’s dark shadows put to flight.

    Sacred Scripture

    Stop passing judgment before the time of the Lord’s return. He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness and manifest the intentions of hearts. At that time, everyone will receive his praise from God. 1 Corinthians 4:5

  • Thursday of the Third Week of Advent: O Key of David

    Thursday of the Third Week of Advent: O Key of David

    Today’s readings

    O 4davidWe humans put up all sorts of barriers. Some are necessary, like the walls of prisons, or the sound barriers along a highway. Some are sad, like the old wall that used to separate East and West Germany. Others are exasperating, like the wall along the frontier into Mexico. The physical barriers that we accept every day keep us safe and warm, define our space, and keep us in our place. Not sure if that’s always good or bad, but there it is.

    Perhaps the saddest barriers that we put up, though, are the spiritual barriers that keep us from God, or the spiritual barriers that are intended to keep God from being God, or are intended to force God to do what we would want. How often do we want God to answer our prayers in our own way, or not at all? Are we sometimes afraid of what God would do if we really let him open the dark places of our lives? Are we like the Israelites who could not bear to even look at Moses lest they be enlightened by the radiance of God at work in him? The spiritual barriers that we put up as some kind of laughable defense against God are heartbreaking, because they succeed only in defeating the outpouring of God’s mercy on us in this time and place.

    For all of us locked up inside those barriers, the antiphon from Vespers today prays:

    O Key of David, O royal Power of Israel controlling at your will the gate of heaven: come, break down the prison walls of death for those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death; and lead your captive people into freedom.

    And our verse of “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” sings:

    O come, Thou Key of David, come,
    And open wide our heavenly home;
    Make safe the way that leads on high,
    And close the path to misery.

    In today’s Gospel Mary found out that nothing can stand in the way of God’s plans, that the Key of David can even unlock the barren womb of her cousin Elizabeth to provide a herald’s voice for the coming of our Savior. Perhaps today we can allow the Key of David to unlock the dark places of our hearts so that we can see a miracle happening in our own lives too.

  • Tuesday of the Third Week of Advent: O Sacred Lord

    Tuesday of the Third Week of Advent: O Sacred Lord

    Today’s readings | O Antiphons

    O 2llordI love these late days of Advent. The expectation of the Savior is heightening, the time of deliverance is at hand, the Lord is near. During these days, we sing the “O Antiphons:” the call for Christ to come and visit us under his many titles. Yesterday was “O Sapientia” or “O Wisdom.” Today is “O Adonai” or “O Sacred Lord.” The antiphon for Vespers this evening prays: “O sacred Lord of ancient Israel, who showed yourself to Moses in the burning bush, who gave him the holy law on Sinai mountain: come, stretch out your mighty hand to set us free.” We pray for the Lord of our salvation to come quickly and not delay.

    This was the message Joseph received in his dream. No, the child to be born was not a random child born out of wedlock. He was instead the hope of the nations, the Lord of Lords, the one who would save his people from their sins. Just as Isaiah foretold one who would be called “the LORD our justice,” so Joseph would name his child Jesus, a name which means “the LORD is salvation.” We await the coming of our Savior who is our salvation, our justice, our hope of eternal life. He was long desired of every nation, and he is needed in our hearts today.

    The song we sing in these days is “O Come, O Come Emmanuel.” If you look at the verses, you will note that there is a verse for each of these “O Antiphons.” Today’s verse for O Sacred Lord is:

    O come, O come, great Lord of might,
    Who to Your tribes on Sinai’s height
    In ancient times once gave the law
    In cloud and majesty and awe.

    And so we pray, come O Sacred Lord, do not delay. Fill our hearts with your presence and come to us with your great salvation. Free us from our slavery to sin and bring us into your presence. Come Lord Jesus, come quickly.

  • St. John of the Cross

    St. John of the Cross

    Today’s readings | Today’s saint [ more ] Mass for the school junior high students.

    StJohnCrossDo you know what a prophet is? Not a p-r-o-f-i-t profit, but a prophet who is a person. In the broadest sense, a prophet is someone who foretells what is to come. But in terms of our faith, a prophet is even more than that. A prophet is a person who helps us to see God.

    Because lots of times we don’t see God. We’re either too busy to notice God, or too wrapped up in ourselves to care about God, or just completely disinterested in the whole notion of God. Sometimes we just don’t want to see God because we would rather be doing what we want to do and not what’s best for ourselves and others. God can see through all of that, and prophets help us to see through it too.

    We hear from three prophets today. The first is the prophet Isaiah, and we heard from him in today’s first reading. The people of Israel had turned away from God a whole lot.
    God often made a new covenant with them, and then after a while, they would lose interest and get distracted and turn away from God all over again. And Isaiah is trying to wake them up once again. He tells them if they had stayed on the right path, the path God marked out for them when he made a covenant with them, if they had followed his commands, they would have been blessed by good fortune, many descendants, and a rich land and nation that would never have been destroyed. It’s too late for them to turn back now, but maybe by seeing what caused their misfortune, they can turn back to God and let him heal them. Which is something God is always longing to do.

    The second prophet we hear from today is St. John the Baptist, and we hear about him in today’s Gospel reading. Jesus is telling the people of Israel – again! – that just about nothing could get their attention. When John the Baptist went around fasting and staying away from strong drink, the people thought he was weird and couldn’t relate to the kind of life he was calling them to lead. But when Jesus came along asking them to live that same life, and eating and drinking just as they did, they judged him harshly and wouldn’t follow him either. So they always had an excuse, it was never their fault, they wouldn’t dance for joyful songs on the flute or mourn for funeral songs. Basically, no matter who was calling them to reform their lives and no matter how they proclaimed that message, the people wanted to do what they wanted to do, and nothing was going to persuade them to change.

    The third prophet we hear from today is St. John of the Cross, whose feast we celebrate today. St. John of the Cross was a Carmelite friar, a kind of monk who was vowed to poverty, chastity and obedience. He was called by God and by his friend, St. Teresa of Avila, to reform the Carmelite Order. The Carmelites had relaxed some of their rules over time, and had basically turned away from the life that had been envisioned when the Order started. St. John of the Cross and St. Teresa of Avila founded a reformed Carmelite Order, and St. John suffered for it terribly. In those days, religious affairs were all tied up in the government of the nation, and so there was a lot of politics. People didn’t agree with St. John, so he was taken prisoner for over nine months. Even when he was released, his fellow friars who didn’t agree with him went around to all the monasteries making trouble for him. He was oppressed for his preaching of reform almost until the day he died.

    Each of these prophets had been given a message by God. Isaiah and St. John the Baptist called the people of Israel to turn back to God. St. John of the Cross called his fellow Carmelites to turn back to the ideals on which their Order was founded. All of them suffered for their witness to the truth. Prophets don’t usually have an easy life. But if we will get past the politics and get over ourselves, we might hear from them a call that leads us back to God who will make us happier than we’ve ever been.

    During Advent, we remember that Christ is always near to us, and we remember that we must always turn back to him and let him be born in our hearts once again, stronger than ever. And so during Advent, we hear from the great prophets like Isaiah, John the Baptist, and John of the Cross who are calling us to turn back to God and to prepare a way for Christ in our lives, in our hearts, and in our world.

    Today in our Psalm we hear what God is trying to tell us through all these prophets:

    Blessed the one who follows not
    the counsel of the wicked
    Nor walks in the way of sinners,
    nor sits in the company of the insolent,
    But delights in the law of the LORD
    and meditates on his law day and night.

    And we will be happy too, if we hear God’s call through the prophets and follw in his ways.

  • St. Lucy, Virgin and Martyr

    St. Lucy, Virgin and Martyr

    Today’s readings | Today’s saint [ more]

    saintlucyMany of our young people can tell you of the difficulties they face in trying to remain pure, especially before marriage. But we cannot think of that as simply one more of our modern problems, because it has been a problem for a long time now. St. Lucy could tell you that. She was born of noble parents in Sicily around the year 283. Her father died early in her life, and so she was dependent on her mother. She consecrated her virginity to God and sought to renounce worldly possessions in favor of caring for the poor. Her mother, after suffering from a hemorrhage for several years, decided to make a pilgrimage to Catania, to see the relics of St. Agatha. She was indeed cured, and in her joy consented to Lucy’s desire to give greatly to the poor.

    But that generosity, probably mixed with frustration over her commitment to virginity before marriage, was viewed with great skepticism by her unworthy suitor, who denounced her as a Christian to the Governor of Sicily. She was condemned to a life of prostitution, but prayer rendered her immovable and she could not be dragged off to the house of ill repute! At that point, logs were piled around her and a fire was set, which had no effect on her at all. She was finally dispatched with a sword and suffered martyrdom for her belief in Christ.

    As one of the prominent figures of Advent, St. Lucy, along with John the Baptist in today’s Gospel reading, points the way to the coming Christ. The details of her story have been disputed, but the point of the story is not to provide a historical record, but rather a spiritual record. Her commitment to Christ, and her desire to make the pathway straight, as did John the Baptist, provided a rich and unobstructed pathway for the entrance of Christ into her heart.

    We too have challenges along the way to Christ. We might not be called to give our lives rather than forsake our virginity or even our belief in Christ, but we are called to lay down our lives to cover the rough places in the road so that others can come to find Him. Along the way, we are encouraged by great saints like Agatha, Lucy and John the Baptist. Every single one of them points us in the right direction: to Christ the One of whom Isaiah speaks: Christ who will be our redeemer. “But you shall rejoice in the LORD,” Isaiah tells us, “and glory in the Holy One of Israel.”

  • Advent Penance Service

    Advent Penance Service

    Readings: Romans 7:14-25; John 1: 35-39

    pic advent reflection

    St. Paul's instruction from his letter to the Romans this evening can seem a little confusing, I think. But the point that he is making is one that I think every Christian disciple can resonate with, at least a little. He says that he intends to do what is good, that he really wants to do what is good, that he knows doing what is good will give him ultimate happiness. But unfortunately, through the weakness of his humanity, that's not what happens. He doesn't do what is good, instead, he does wrong, he does what he hates, and this makes him frustrated and ultimately unhappy. This happens to disciples. Just because you know what to do doesn't mean that's what you'll end up doing. We are weak, sometimes doing what is right is just too hard, too exhausting, too inaccessible. We find ourselves struggling with the same sins over and over again, and it seems that we are just hopeless. I hope that you find that's the case for you, because I sure know I've been there often enough!

    The ultimate question is the question Jesus asks the two followers of John the Baptist in this evening's Gospel: "What are you looking for?" St. Paul would say he was looking for the good. Maybe we might say we are looking for a peaceful life, or success, or whatever we think is good. But often enough, we settle for far less than the incredible good that God intends for us. We settle for having this or that trinket, or a promotion that takes us away from our families a few more hours every week, or a relationship that is not supportive of our relationship with Christ. We intend the good, but we settle for what we hate. When we do that, we diminish our capacity to receive the wonderful gifts God wants to give us. St. Augustine says, "Suppose that God wishes to fill you with honey; but if you are full of vinegar, where will you put the honey?"

    Pope Benedict uses that quote in his latest encyclical, Spe Salvi. He explains what St. Augustine means: "The vessel, that is your heart, must first be enlarged and then cleansed, freed from the vinegar and its taste. This requires hard work and is painful, but in this way alone do we become suited to that for which we are destined" (Pope Benedict XVI, Spe Salvi, 33). And what we are destined for is God himself, because God made us for himself. There is nothing in this world that will fill us up the way God will. And every time we settle for something that is less than God, we diminish our capacity for God that much more, and are that much more unhappy. We must, as His Holiness reminds us, purify our hearts of every evil, everything that takes us away from God. That's not an easy thing to do and it absolutely cannot be accomplished apart from a prayerful relationship with God himself.

    And so we come before God tonight to ask for what is truly good. We ask for forgiveness and the grace to desire what is truly good. Pope Benedict says, "We must learn that we cannot ask for the superficial and comfortable things that we desire at this moment-that meager, misplaced hope that leads us away from God. We must learn to purify our desires and our hopes. We must free ourselves from the hidden lies with which we deceive ourselves. God sees through them, and when we come before God, we too are forced to recognize them (Spe Salvi, 33)."

    And maybe that's the grace we'll receive tonight. Maybe we will stand before God and confess that there are times we've settled for a whole lot less than what he longs to give us. Maybe this Christmas we will have cleared away enough of the vinegar that Christ can be born in our hearts in a way that has not happened for a long time now. Maybe we will find that our desiring isn't a bad thing, and that we can fill up that desiring with the One who longs to satisfy our every longing.

    We will still struggle with our desires, and the temptation to fill those desires poorly. It's the practice of prayer and the constant work of penance that can ultimately give us some victory over them. Because ultimately, the victory cannot be through anyone other than Christ. St. Paul recognizes that at the end of this evening's first reading. "Who will deliver me from this mortal body?" he asks. "Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord." Jesus is our hope, he is the hope of reconciliation with God, he is the One through whom we will be filled up with what is good and what will make us ultimately happy.

    One of my favorite Advent carols is "O Come, Divine Messiah." It reminds us that there will come a day when Christ will bring hope to its completion:

    O come, divine Messiah!
    The world in silence waits the day
    When hope shall sing its triumph,
    And sadness flee away.

    Dear Savior haste;
    Come, come to earth,
    Dispel the night and show your face,
    And bid us hail the dawn of grace.

    O come, divine Messiah!
    The world in silence waits the day
    When hope shall sing its triumph,
    And sadness flee away.