Caritas Christi Urget Nos

Tag: Discipleship

  • Saturday of the Seventh Week of Easter

    Saturday of the Seventh Week of Easter

    Today’s readings

    One of the greatest obstacles to the Christian life is comparing ourselves to others. Because, and I’ll just say it, discipleship isn’t meant to be fair. At least not as we see fairness. The essence of discipleship is doing what we were put here to do, we ourselves. We discern that vocation by reflecting on our own gifts and talents, given to us by God, by prayerfully meditating on God’s will for us, and then engaging in conversation with the Church to see how best to use those talents and gifts. That’s the process of discernment, which is always aided by the working of the Holy Spirit.

    What causes us to get off track, though, is looking at other people and what they are doing, or the gifts they have, or the opportunities they have received. We might be envious of their gifts or the opportunities they have to use them. We may see what they are doing and think we can do it better. We might be frustrated that they don’t do what we would do if we were in their place. And all of that is nonsense. It’s pride, and it’s destructive. It will ruin the Christian life and leave us bitter people.

    That’s the correction Jesus made to Peter. Poor Peter was getting it all wrong once again. He thought Jesus was revealing secrets to John that he wanted to know also. But whatever it was that Jesus said to John as they reclined at table that night was none of Peter’s business, nor was it ours. Peter had a specific job to do, and so do we. If we are serious about our discipleship, then we would do well to take our eyes off what others are doing or saying or experiencing, and instead focus on the wonderful gifts and opportunities we have right in front of us. As for what other people are up to, as Jesus said, “what concern is that of yours?”

    As always, the Psalmist has it right. We don’t look at others, we have only one place to look: “The just will gaze on your face, O Lord.”

  • The Ascension of the Lord

    The Ascension of the Lord

    Today’s readings

    For some reason, whenever I’m in the car with my mother, taking her wherever it is we need to go, we seem to get all the red lights. After we stop for a dozen of them or so, it becomes kind of a joke, and she just laughs and says, “well, it’s because I’m in the car with you!” What makes it so funny is that neither of us is really that good at waiting. But hey, are any of us good at waiting? We are a people who want to get on with it, we don’t like to stand around doing nothing. We want to come to a decision, to make things happen, to get it over with already.

    So today’s feast is a little bit of a challenge for us, I think. The Ascension in some ways is the feast of waiting. The disciples in our first reading from Acts want to know if this is it, is Jesus finally going to restore the kingdom to Israel. And this betrays the fact that they’ve gotten it wrong once again. “It is not for you to know the times or seasons that the Father has established by his own authority,” Jesus tells them. They want to know the big picture, to see what’s coming next, and Jesus isn’t going to do that for them. They are just going to have to wait.

    Waiting is hard for the Apostles to do. They have fervor having been with Jesus, but they were always getting it wrong. They are looking for the coming of the Messiah. They want Jesus to be the one to restore the kingdom to Israel. They want everything wrapped up, all of their hopes and dreams fulfilled, and they’d like all that to happen now, please. And who can blame them? Don’t we too have these same expectations of Jesus from time to time? Don’t we too want the wars in the world to come to an end and peace to break out all over the globe? Don’t we want to stop experiencing illness, and death and sin? Don’t we want the kingdom to come now, not later, in our lifetime, so we can see it? Who can blame the Apostles for not wanting to wait? We ourselves cannot wait for the fullness of the kingdom to be accomplished.

    But they, and we, are told to wait for the coming of the Holy Spirit. Because by themselves, Jesus told them, they can do nothing. It is only with the grace of God, poured out by the Holy Spirit, that anything worthwhile can ever be accomplished. Without the Spirit, those first disciples were always misinterpreting Jesus’ words and actions. Without the Spirit, they scattered at the first sign of trouble. This too, is something we experience. Whenever we attempt to do anything, worthwhile as it may be, without God’s help, we are destined to fail. We might want to better ourselves in some way, by giving up a vice or learning something new, but without God’s grace, it falls flat soon after we resolve to do it. We may want, as our Gospel says, to drive out demons, to speak new languages, to heal the sick. But how do we do that on our own? The answer is, we don’t. We too have to wait for the Holy Spirit.

    Waiting is a spiritual discipline that we must all learn. The reasons to develop the habit of waiting are good ones. In waiting, we have that time out that keeps us from doing something wrong. In waiting, we gather better information and think things through before we launch into something the wrong way. In waiting, we are given the gift of the Holy Spirit who leads us in the everlasting way. And that gift of the Spirit is absolutely worth the wait!

    So today we stand here with the disciples. There are so many questions to ask. What’s going to happen when? How do we be a Church? What do we need to do to spread the Gospel to every creature on earth? But this isn’t the time to get all the answers. We will have to wait. Because now, our Lord ascends from our sight. In his glorified, resurrected body, he rises to heaven, returning to the Father from whom he came. Will we do the same, returning in our resurrected bodies to the Father? Yes. When will that happen? That’s not for us to know right now. Again, we will have to wait.

    And so, with those first disciples, we stand here, peering up into the heavens, waiting for our Jesus to answer all our questions, to bind up all our woundedness, and to bring us all to glory. But we can’t go there just yet. And so, what are we doing standing here looking up into the sky. Jesus will return. We don’t know when; we will just have to wait. But while we are waiting there is much to do.

    “Go into the whole world and proclaim the gospel to every creature.” This is important work that has been entrusted to us. Because the consequences are dire: “Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved; whoever does not believe will be condemned.” And this task is given to us disciples. We have to proclaim the gospel in everything that we do. In the words we speak, in our actions and habits, in the love we bring to others – this is how people will hear the gospel. If they don’t hear it in your actions and love, they may never hear it in a homily or sermon. “Preach the gospel at all times,” St. Francis once said, “and when necessary, use words.”

    So that’s what we are to do while we are waiting. We have to make sure everyone knows that God loves them enough to send his only Son to be our salvation. Jesus came to earth, taking on our human body, becoming one like us in all things but sin, walked among us and died the same death we all do, paying the price for our sins and obliterating the obstacles of sin and death that kept us from God. People need to know that and if they’re ever going to hear it, they need to hear it in you – in your families, in your workplaces, in your schools, your communities, wherever God puts you. And it is that gift of the Holy Spirit, that gift for which we wait on this Ascension day, that will give you the power to do that convincingly.

    These last months have been a difficult time of waiting for me. I had asked the bishop and the personnel board of our diocese for permission to stay at St. Raphael’s another year. Because there is much that still needs to be done. But, this week, I was reminded that I’m not supposed to do it all. I learned that in the week after Father’s Day, I will be transferred to St. Petronille in Glen Ellyn, and that a new priest, a newly ordained priest, would be coming here to St. Raphael. So now the waiting is over, and the moving and the leaving and the saying goodbye has to start. Quite frankly, if there is anything I dislike more than waiting, it’s moving and leaving and saying goodbye. But that’s where life takes us from time to time.

    You absolutely have to know that my heart is breaking as I leave here. You have been my family, and you have been the family that has formed me in my first years of priesthood and has made me always want to be a better priest every day. You have loved me into my vocation, and have been shining examples of faith and discipleship for me. You have prayed with me, and worshipped with me, and served with me. You were the ones who helped me through the illness and death of my father in my very first year as a priest. You will always have a special place in my heart, and I will always be grateful for the gift of having been your priest.

    I hope that you give those same gifts to the new priest. He will need your love and support. He will need you to challenge and teach him. He will need your prayers. Fr. Ted and I will need your prayers too as we go through this transition. I’ll still be here for a few weeks, so this isn’t goodbye just yet. Instead it is a thank-you. And God bless you for being the people you have been for me.

  • Saturday of the Sixth Week of Easter

    Saturday of the Sixth Week of Easter

    Today’s readings

    We gather here today on the eve of the Ascension. The tension is palpable; the disciples have so many more questions to ask, and they have no idea how short a time they have left to ask them. They are certainly not prepared to have the one they lost briefly to death ascend from their sight. They have been reunited with their friend and have gathered around him with a purpose; not wanting to ever be parted from him again.

    And Jesus has been preparing them in the Gospel readings this week for what must come. If God’s purpose is to be advanced on this earth, then Jesus has to return to the Father. They will mourn once again for the loss of their friend. But if he does not leave them, he would not be able to send the Holy Spirit, the new Advocate to come and lead them to all truth. If the Spirit does not descend, the Church would not be born. If the Church were not born, the Gospel would be but an obscure footnote in the history of the world.

    And so Jesus, their friend, prepares them for his parting. When he is gone from them, they will be able to ask the Father for whatever they need in Jesus’ name, and it will be given them. Their friendship with them will bear fruit in blessing.

    The same is true of us. We disciples, we friends of Jesus, can count on his blessing, the rich gift of the Holy Spirit, the great witness of the Church. Our lives are enriched by our faith and our discipleship. What we do here on earth, what we suffer in our lives, what we celebrate — all this will bear fruit for the glory of God.

  • Saturday of the Fourth Week of Easter

    Saturday of the Fourth Week of Easter

    Today’s readings

    Now think about this just for a minute – pretend you are Paul or Barnabas or one of the other apostles. Think about all the things they went through in that first reading. Paul hasn’t even been a Christian for very long, and already he is being hounded and persecuted. Maybe that makes sense because I’m sure some people viewed his conversion as a kind of treason. Whatever the case, as they speak out boldly in the name of Jesus, they receive nothing but violent abuse from the Jews. So they turn then to the Gentiles who were delighted to hear the Word preached to them. But the Jews didn’t even leave that alone; they stirred up some of the prominent Gentiles to persecute Paul and Barnabas and eventually they expelled them from their territory. What a horrible reception they received over and over again.

    But, listen to the last line of that first reading again: “The disciples were filled with joy and the Holy Spirit.”

    Really? Think about it. Would that be your reaction? Or would you say, “enough is enough” and let God stir up someone else to preach the Word? Obviously, that’s not what Paul and Barnabas, or any of the other disciples did, or we wouldn’t be here today. No, they were filled with joy and the Holy Spirit, thanks be to God!

    That’s the way joy works. It’s not something conditioned by the external events of a person’s life. Joy is not a feeling. Joy, instead, is a direct result of the disciple’s decision to give their life to Christ and to follow his way. Joy does not mean that the disciple won’t experience sadness or even hard times. I have experienced that in my own life, and I’m sure you have too. But joy does mean that the disciple will never give in to the sadness or the hard times because all those things have been made new in Christ.

    Christ is the source of our true joy. We disciples must choose to live lives of joy and remain unaffected by the world and the events of our lives. We choose joy because we know the One who is our Salvation, and because it is he who fills us with joy and the Holy Spirit.

  • Thursday of the Fourth Week of Easter

    Thursday of the Fourth Week of Easter

    Today’s readings

    “Don’t shoot the messenger!” That’s our colloquial way of saying that the words we speak to someone come from someone else; they are not our ideas. Most of us have probably said that to someone at some time.

    But that doesn’t work for we who are followers of Christ. Yes, we are messengers. The Greek word for messenger is “angeloi” from which we get our English word, “angel.” Angels are messengers sent by God to communicate something specific to humankind. We’ve seen the archangel Gabriel herald the coming of Christ to a young woman named Mary. A whole host of angels heralded the birth of the Savior to shepherds working in the fields. The letter to the Hebrews tells us not to neglect hospitality, for we may be entertaining angels. And Jesus tells us today, “whoever receives the one I send
    receives me, and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me.”

    We are all sent, brothers and sisters in Christ, to be messengers. We have received the Gospel and have been schooled in it through our participation in the Mass and our education in faith. We are not angels, because angels are a different species of creation than humankind, but we are in a sense angeloi, we are messengers who are sent by God to bring the Good News, the Gospel, to all those who need to hear it. And that would be every person God puts in our lives or in our path. We have to preach it every day, maybe not by standing on a soapbox, but definitely by our living of the message ourselves.

    Just as St. Paul courageously preached the truth in the synagogue in today’s first reading, we have to be ready to courageously share our faith in whatever way God calls us, wherever God puts us, to whoever God gives us. The Psalmist has it right today, as always, when he says, “Forever I will sing the goodness of the Lord!” Whether we have trained voices or not, we must always sing the praises of God who gives us everything we have and everything we could ever hope for. Singing those praises with our lives makes our message every bit as beautiful as the choirs of angels sang on that great first Christmas.

    May our guardian angels show us the way to be angeloi for the glory of God!

  • Tuesday of the Fourth Week of Easter

    Tuesday of the Fourth Week of Easter

    Today’s readings

    I think sometimes we really need to know that we are in the hands of God. Things here on earth can be pretty uncertain on a daily basis. The state of the economy, wars being fought all over the globe, the disrespect for human life, antagonism toward Christ-like values, all of this makes us feel pretty uncertain, at best. Add to that the stuff that affects us directly: illness, death of a loved one, unemployment, family difficulties, our own sins – all of this may find us asking the question from time to time, “Where is God in all this?”

    That’s why it’s so good to hear Jesus say today:

    My sheep hear my voice;
    I know them, and they follow me.
    I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish.
    No one can take them out of my hand.

    This does not, of course, mean that life is going to be easier for us, or that we won’t still be challenged in this world. But it does give us confidence that we are on the right track, and that our ways are being guarded. With this confidence, we are expected then to be disciples. We are expected to go forth and do what God asks of us, ministering to those in need, reaching out to the broken, preaching the Good News just by the way that we live our life.

    We can live and preach the Gospel with confidence, we can be called Christians as our brothers and sisters in the first reading were for the first time, knowing that God has our back. Whatever we may suffer in this life for the sake of Christ will more than be rewarded in the life to come. And the good works we do here on earth, as small as they may seem to us in the face of such adversity, are never for nothing: God takes our efforts and makes them huge advances in the battle for souls.

    Jesus says that the Father is greater than all, and that all of us, safe in the Father’s hands, can never be taken from him. Praise God for his providence and mercy and protection today.

  • Wednesday of the Second Week of Lent

    Wednesday of the Second Week of Lent

    Today’s readings

    Our actions – even the righteous ones – have consequences. Jeremiah famously complains in our first reading today that his reward for speaking the truth was that every influential person in the land plotted to take his life just to shut him up. And the sons of Zebedee – James and John – find out that being a disciple does mean that they will have to drink the chalice that Christ will drink, but what they don’t know yet is that the chalice he’s talking about is a cup of suffering, which they will certainly share. As we take the Body and Blood of Christ today, we too might wonder what the chalice will bring for us, and how we will respond to it.

  • Fourth Sunday of Ordinary Time

    Fourth Sunday of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    “If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.”

    If I put my mind to it, I suppose I could think of dozens of times when someone with more wisdom than I told me something I wasn’t willing to hear.  Had I been open to those messages, things would have turned out differently – better, maybe – than they did.  How often have we been unwilling to listen to parents, teachers, or others in authority?  How often have we refused to listen to them because we were sure of our own wisdom?  This is not the model God has for our lives.  This is the real reason, I think, for the fourth commandment: honor your father and your mother.

    The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches us, “The fourth commandment is addressed expressly to children in their relationship to their father and mother, because this relationship is the most universal. It likewise concerns the ties of kinship between members of the extended family. It requires honor, affection, and gratitude toward elders and ancestors. Finally, it extends to the duties of pupils to teachers, employees to employers, subordinates to leaders, citizens to their country, and to those who administer or govern it.

    “This commandment includes and presupposes the duties of parents, instructors, teachers, leaders, magistrates, those who govern, all who exercise authority over others or over a community of persons.” (CCC, 2199)  The fourth commandment recognizes that God speaks to us through others, and we have a duty to listen to that voice.  St. Paul reminds us that this commandment carries with it a promise of blessing: “Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land which the Lord your God gives you.” (Exodus 20:12, Deuteronomy 5:16)

    “If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.”

    In today’s first reading, Moses promises that God would send a prophet like himself and the people would listen to that prophet.  We know that God raised up prophets all through the history of the people of Israel.  The Old Testament gives us the words of some of those prophets, and each of them spoke not on their own authority, but spoke the words of God himself.  They would begin their prophesies with the words “Thus says the Lord…”

    But we know that in the fullness of time, God raised up Jesus to be the fulfillment of prophecy and the answer to every longing of the human heart.  The words Jesus spoke were words of authority.  He didn’t need to say “thus says the Lord…”  Instead Jesus would say, “I say to you…”

    Today’s Gospel shows us a little vignette about the teachings of Jesus.  He is teaching in the synagogue and people are impressed with what he says.  But to underscore it all perhaps, Jesus performs and exorcism.  Interestingly enough, the unclean spirit knows who Jesus is – it says, “I know who you are—the Holy One of God!”  I think it’s intensely interesting that the unclean spirits recognize Jesus right away. That’s not always true of the people in Jesus’ time, particularly not true of the religious leaders of the day.  And, honestly, it’s not always true of us, is it?  How slow we can be to recognize and hear what Jesus is saying to us.

    “If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.”

    These words that I have been quoting from today’s Psalm response are loaded with meaning.  I want to look at it in two parts.  First, “If today you hear his voice…”  Now, if we’re not really careful, we could come away from that thinking that God doesn’t speak to us very often.  It’s almost as if we have to be constantly on the lookout for some word of God that may come once in a blue moon.  But that’s not it at all.  I am totally convinced that God is speaking to us all the time.  I often use the example of a radio program.  The radio station is broadcasting 24/7, but if we don’t have a radio turned on, we don’t hear it.  But just because we don’t hear it doesn’t mean there’s no broadcast, right?  We’re just not tuned in.  I think that God speaks to us all the time, and the “if” part of the Psalmist’s words refers to the fickleness of the human heart, not the fickleness of God’s revelation to us.  We have to tune in if we are to hear the word of God today.

    And why would we choose not to tune in?  Maybe it’s because we’re tired and cannot hear just one more piece of advice.  Or perhaps we are busy and don’t have time to make to hear God’s word and act on it.  Or, we may even be so convinced of our own wisdom, that in our pride we block out the voice of God however it may come to us.  The fathers and mothers of the church have long written that this is the greatest sin that one could ever commit.  We might think of lots of things that seem worse, but in the big picture, they don’t even come close not hearing the word of God.  When we think that we can handle everything on our own, when we become God for ourselves, we put ourselves beyond the reach of God’s mercy in ways that we might never be able to heal.  God forbid that we would choose not to hear his voice.

    The second part of the Psalmist’s prayer is “harden not your hearts.”  Hearing the word of God obviously requires a response.  I suppose that upon hearing God’s word, one could simply ignore it and keep on living their lives the way they’re doing it and have been doing it all along.  Lots of people do that, in fact.  But even this “non-response” is a response to God’s word – in fact it’s a rejection of it.  It’s the sin of pride that says we’re too busy to hear God’s word, too exhausted to consider it, or too sure of our own wisdom to need it.  This is what it means to harden our hearts; this is the sinful response I spoke of earlier.

    But for the disciple, the believer, this non-response is not an option.  Hearing the word of God changes us, it brings us along the path of our spiritual life, closer to God.  Maybe God’s word will require a big change in our lives, something like a career change, or taking on our true vocation, or committing to a new ministry at church.  God does call us in those ways at times.  But sometimes God’s word is less momentous, more of a correction or a gentle nudge in a different direction.  Maybe it’s the moment that helps us to realize we’ve sinned.  Or perhaps an inspiration to offer a kindness to another person, or pick up the Scriptures and read them, or even just that moment that we think of someone in our lives and feel like they need our prayers right now.  All of these are changes for us, and help bring us closer to Jesus.

    And the truth is, day in and day out, we’re going to take a couple steps forward, and then maybe a step back.  Sin is the obstacle to truly hearing the voice of God and not hardening our hearts.  But it’s grace that keeps us on the path, encourages us to keep those radios tuned in, listening for the word of God and accepting that word with softened hearts and willing spirits.

    “If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.”

  • Monday of the First Week of Ordinary Time

    Monday of the First Week of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    It seems like just yesterday that John the Baptist was baptizing Jesus in the Jordan River.  Oh wait, it was just yesterday!  But today’s reading fast forwards a bit and takes us to a time after John has been arrested.  John isn’t dead yet, not yet out of the picture, but clearly he is decreasing, as he says in another place, so that Jesus can increase.

    And Jesus is certainly increasing.  His ministry is kicking into full swing, and he begins by preaching that the kingdom is at hand – a theme that will continue his whole life long.  And he begins to call his followers.  Simon and Andrew, James and John, two sets of brothers, two groups of fishermen, give up their nets and their boats and their fathers and turn instead to casting nets to catch men and women for God’s kingdom.

    As the author of our first reading from the letter to the Hebrews tells us, in times past God spoke in partial and various ways and through prophets – including, actually, John the Baptist.  But now God doesn’t need the prophets anymore.  He is speaking – and acting – directly through his Son Jesus, the heir of all things, the one through whom God created the universe, the refulgence of God’s glory.

    You know, even though today is the first day of Ordinary Time, we continue some aspects of Christmas and the Epiphany right up until February second, the feast of the Presentation of the Lord.  So today’s Gospel fits right in with that.  Today’s Gospel gives us a little more light to see what Jesus is up to.  He calls us all to repentance and to accept the Gospel and the Kingdom of God.  He says to us just as he said to Simon, Andrew, James and John: “Come follow me.”  The year ahead can be an exciting spiritual journey for us.  Who knows what Jesus will do in us to further the kingdom of God?  We just have to answer that wonderful invitation – “Come follow me and I will make you fishers of men.”

  • The Epiphany of the Lord

    The Epiphany of the Lord

    Today’s readings

    I’m going to make things pretty simple today.  If someone asks you what my homily was about, you’ll be able to sum it up in just four words: “Walk toward the light.”

    And that’s good advice, I think, for us who walk around in what can be a very dark world.  Today’s first reading speaks of that darkness: “See, darkness covers the earth, and thick clouds cover the peoples…” We’re not talking about some kind of simple darkness that is cured by simply turning on a lamp.  This darkness is pervasive, not just physical darkness, but a darkness that has psychological effects, and even affects communities and nations.  When Isaiah speaks of the thick clouds covering the peoples, that’s what he means: “peoples” means nations.

    And we don’t need to look too much farther than the newspaper or evening news to see that darkness.  The year ahead of us might seem rather foreboding.  I took my mother shopping in the pre-Christmas days, and as I drove through the shopping areas, I wondered what they’d look like in a year.  The economic downturn is a very dark place for so many people right now.  The wars raging in the Middle East, in Afghanistan, Iraq and Africa, all over the world really, those are dark places for combatants and non-combatants alike.  And let’s not even begin to speak about the scandal in the governor’s office and politics in general.  There’s plenty of darkness to go around, and it doesn’t seem like there’s enough light in all the universe to make it better, to illuminate that darkness, to help us to break free of it all.

    There may be darkness in our own lives too.  Maybe we have patterns of sin of which we cannot seem to break free, maybe there are family difficulties that cloud our day-to-day living, maybe there are old hurts among family or friends that prevent us from moving forward in grace.  Even our own personal and spiritual lives can be such dark places at times.

    Today’s Liturgy acknowledges all the darkness and invites us: “Walk toward the light.”

    Because the light that we have to scatter all that darkness comes from God himself.  Isaiah says again: “but upon you the LORD shines, and over you appears his glory.”  A darkness as pervasive as the one that covers all peoples takes a very bright light to scatter it.  Does this mean that all that darkness will go away immediately?  Of course not.  But it does mean that God has provided a way, lit up a path, for people of faith to take baby steps if necessary to walk toward that light.  We see that light in the Church, through the Scriptures, in the Sacraments, in our celebration of the Eucharist, in our interaction with each other as people of faith.  Those thick clouds may make it pretty hard to see at times, but ultimately they are no match for the bright light of the glory of the Lord.

    Isaiah goes on to point out that all that light isn’t intended just for us.  When we have approached the light, we need to share that light with others.  “Nations shall walk by your light,” Isaiah says, “and kings by your shining radiance.”  Having received the light of the glory of the Lord, we are meant to spread it over our corner of the world.  We are meant to radiate that light as a beacon in a dark place, so that all peoples – all those peoples that were covered by those thick clouds of darkness – can see their way to the Lord too.  We spread that light by changing our lives.  We spread it by being people of integrity.  We spread the light by paying it forward, by giving of ourselves, by having concern for those in our lives and those the Lord puts in our lives.  We spread the light by reaching out to those in need.

    And what is wonderful is that spreading the light never leaves us in the darkness.  There is always more light to shine on us.  Listen to Isaiah again:

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

    The glory of the Lord is never diminished by shining on others.  In fact, when we share that light with others, we only receive more, so that our hearts are throbbing and overflowing, beholding all the riches that we could ever hope to find.  We may find a talent we never knew we had, one that can reach others for Christ.  We may find a new energy that comes to a spiritual life that was previously rather listless.  We may find new challenges, new opportunities, and always new grace.  The riches and wealth of our God is never exhausted.

    All we have to do is walk toward the light.

    The word “epiphany” means “manifestation.”  Today, and in the next couple of weeks, we will see Christ’s lordship manifested in a few different ways.  Each of these epiphanies will call us to a deeper appreciation of who Christ is in our lives and a deeper reflection on our own discipleship.

    The light that we walk toward today is very-likely life-changing.  The Magi came to seek the light in today’s Gospel reading.  All we get from Matthew is a description of the encounter.  But we have no idea what the encounter did in the lives of those wise astrologers.  We don’t know how it changed them, what it cost them, where it ultimately led them.  We see that the light was not intended just for the Jews, but also for all of the nations, pagans and religious people alike.  All could come to the light, all could be affected by the light, all could experience the true light of the world.

    And in just the same way, we have no idea how walking toward the light will affect us.  We don’t know how it will change us, what it will cost us, where it ultimately will lead us.  All we know is that, coming to the light, we will be changed, with the promise of grace upon grace.  Just as the Magi were led to return by another way, we too might find ourselves taking another way in our lives.  Epiphany is not the end of the story; it is just the beginning for us. What difference will what is manifested to us today make in our lives?  Will we accept the one who not only lies in a manger as a newborn, but will also be rejected?  Throughout this liturgical year we will hear Jesus’ preaching, observe his works, follow him to his death and then experience his resurrection.  We will be exposed to the light many times and in many wonderful ways.  It will be a year of many epiphanies for us.

    May this coming year find us walking toward the light countless times and in countless ways, and open to the many riches of grace that the Lord has in store for us.