Fr. Rick Spicer

A little boy and his father spent the morning making a kite, they spent hours carefully gluing together the pinewood slats, fitting the paper onto the frame, and fashioning the tail. On the following windy day, they set off to launch their paper and wood space ship. Dad instructed his son on how to hold the string tight and run as fast as he could as he let go. After a few false starts, the kite was finally airborne. The boy was in total control as his father showed him how to let out the string little by little. The kite flew higher and higher. The boy was mesmerized. Then to his father’s surprise, he let go of the string. With sheer joy, the boy watched the kite soar until it was only a speck in the distance.

Walking home together, the father realized that he’ll have to soon loosen the tie that binds him to his son, to let the boy go to make his place in the world and one day fly kites with his own child. And he wonders, “Will I release the string as unselfishly as that?”

Today’s gospel is about letting go…letting go of our anxieties and fears, letting go of our self-centeredness and our need to control, letting go the strings in our lives that tie us down and tie us up from living a life of joyful compassion and selfless generosity. Jesus calls the fishermen on the shore of Galilee, and he calls us, as well to abandon our “nets,” nets that will never “catch” what we truly seek and follow him to discover the life giving and healing love of God in our midst.

Most of us yearn for a life of peace, love, kindness and compassion. We yearn for the kingdom of heaven that Jesus promises in the gospel, yet in fact we are often drawn to do the opposite. We sin. We are reluctant to follow the advice we hear in this gospel, “Repent,” unaware that the kingdom of heaven is not a distant place, but an experience that will emerge when we recognize God’s just and rightful rule over all creation. When we repent, we are seeing the need for God’s rule in our lives. Now, we might not think of our priorities and choices in life as being sinful yet whenever they create confrontation, indifference, cruelty, or hatred, we are not bringing about the kingdom of heaven. Doing whatever we can to get whatever we want at the expense of someone else is a pathway toward sin.

We sin because, like the delicious tantalizing desert loaded with empty calories, wrongdoing offers us fleeting pleasure. As any dietician will tell us, our craving for sugar, if left unchecked, can threaten our physical health. Likewise, if left unchecked, our compulsion to sin will threaten our spiritual health, potentially harming our relationships with others and with God.  Instead of building the kingdom of heaven, sin tears apart the world God has in mind for us.

At the very start of his public ministry, Jesus proclaims the secret for bringing about the kingdom of heaven, “Repent!” Now, you might be thinking, “But, Father, this isn’t Lent.” So true, but when you stop to think about it, repentance is not a seasonal activity; it characterizes the life of every faithful follower of Jesus Christ. We hear the message often so that we will make this our way of life. If we want to experience the kingdom of heaven in this lifetime, and that is something Jesus says we can do, we must consciously strive to include practices of repentance in our daily lives.

For starters, consider, if you are not already doing so, examining your conscience every night before going to bed. This need not be a formal, big deal. All we need to do is spend a couple of quiet moments thinking over the day. We might ask ourselves a few simple questions, “How was I faithful to Jesus’ call to repentance? How did I reach out to others, bringing the goodness of Christ to them? How did another person make me aware of Jesus’ presence today?” When we get into the habit of recognizing Jesus’ saving ministry in our daily lives, we are opening ourselves to his ministry of repentance. The kingdom of heaven is unfolding before us.

Secondly, the Church prescribes that every Friday is a day of penance that calls for repentance and conversion. Many of us grew up with the tradition of abstaining from meat every Friday; a practice that became voluntary except during Lent after Vatican II. The Church still expects us to observe all Fridays as days of penance as a sign uniting us to Jesus in his passion and death. A practical way to do this would be to keep Fridays as a day of fasting, prayer, and doing charitable works. These time-honored practices are sure ways to repentance and conversion, that is, bringing about a change of heart. If we can get ourselves into the habit of keeping Fridays as a day of penance, we will see a difference in our lives and our relationship with Christ.

There was a man who had a reputation for being the best fisherman around. While others would catch one or two fish, he always came in with the limit. The game warden, curious to know how he did this, went fishing with him early one morning. He noticed no fishing tackle. When they arrived at a secluded cove, the man opened a box, pulled out a stick of dynamite, lit it, then threw it in the water. When it exploded, a bunch of fish floated to the surface. The warden identified himself and told the man that he was in a lot of trouble. The man reached into his box, pulled another stick of dynamite. He lit it and handed it to the warden, saying, “Are you going to just sit there or are you going to fish?”

Jesus is urging us to repent, acquire a new heart, and make a decision. One of the hardest things for us today is making a firm decision. We have so many options and we like to keep them open. That is fine if you are shopping for a new car, but disastrous in our relationships with God. In that most vital area we have to make a decision. Like the boy, are we going to let go and let God? Like the guy in the boat, are you going to sit there or are you going to fish? The kingdom of God is not something up in the skies, but down here on earth; ours to be discovered when we heed Jesus’ advice and dare to repent. 

We are inclined to define ordinary as being something routine or unexceptional. For this reason, you may think that ordinary time is called that because there is nothing special about this season. Actually, this time is called ordinary for a different reason; this is when the Church “orders” us to do our mission in life, to organize our thoughts and commitments toward the mission that Christ has given us.

And what might that be? Recall that last line from Isaiah, “I will make you a light to the nations that my salvation may reach the ends of the earth.” You might think this line is describing Jesus, but in fact God is speaking to you personally, “You are my servant, through whom I show my glory.”  Isaiah’s message, intended for all believers, conveys the very purpose of our baptism. Paul puts the same expectation differently when he tells the people at Corinth, “you have been called to be holy.”

By virtue of our baptism, we are called on to, shall I say, join the club along with Isaiah, Paul, John the Baptist and those whom they first preached to. We are called, not only to see ourselves as being numbered amongst God’s holy people, but entrusted with the mission of calling others to holiness as well.

Now, you might be thinking, “That mission belongs to Father or Deacon Bob,” but imagine where you would be if those who influenced you the most had not done their bit to evangelize you and the world around them. Imagine what shape our society would still be in today if others had shied away from calling us to holiness.

The world is a very different place because they weren’t afraid to proclaim their convictions, recognizing Jesus as the Lamb of God, the one who has come to take away the sins of the world; they also knew that Jesus was counting on them to do their part to rid the world of sin as well.

This weekend, our nation recalls the legacy of Martin Luther King. Eloquently and peacefully, he confronted the sin of racism; doing what he did to uphold the dignity of all peoples. I will never forget how he shared his dream on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial that one day his children would be judged not by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. Admittedly, we have miles to go before the sin of bigotry is completely wiped out, but thanks to Dr. King and others who cared, we have come a long ways toward erasing the shame of segregation in our midst.

We must not ignore the tragedy of abortion, a sin made legal by the Supreme Court 35 years ago, a sin that continues to challenge the fabric of our society in numerous ways, including our politics, just as slavery once did. While the rate of abortions has dropped significantly in recent years, the numbers still remain high with more than 1.2 million done in 2005. Mother Teresa once offered this insight, worth reflecting upon, “We are here to be witnesses of love and to celebrate life because life has been created in the image of God. Life is to love and be loved. That is why we all have to take a strong stand so that no child, boy or girl, will be rejected or unloved. Every child is a sign of God’s love that has been extended over all the earth.”

At the other end of the spectrum of life, the voters of this state may find themselves once again wrestling with the issue of euthanasia. A similar initiative was rejected in 1991; hopefully we will do our part once again to be a light for the terminally ill as well as the conscience of our state, helping others to know that suicide is not a step toward holiness.

Few of us knew about our mission in life when we were baptized. Our parents and godparents spoke on our behalf, testifying that they would raise us in the Catholic faith. If they have done their homework, the one lesson they instilled in us is that being a follower of Jesus Christ also means being a doer. God is counting on us to give voice to our Christian convictions and bring them to life. I hope today’s response speaks for you, “Here I am, Lord, I come to do your will.”

Have you ever heard of Steve Whitimore? As a youngster growing up in Atlanta, he became fascinated with puppets. At age 19, he began working on the Muppet Show, doing the background voices and characters. When the show’s founder, Jim Henson, unexpectedly died in 1990, his widow and son asked Steve to take over as Kermit. “I remember feeling very scared,” he said in an interview, “but I looked Kermit in the eyes, and it was almost as though he was saying, ‘Come on, I need a voice.’”

Likewise, Jesus needs a voice. Like John the Baptist, we are being called to give voice to the presence of the Lamb of God in our midst. The work of the gospel, namely, justice, compassion, and reconciliation, does not belong only to the Mother Teresas or Martin Luther Kings of the world who have followed Christ. In every act of humble compassion and generosity, the Lamb of God is given the chance to walk in our midst.

All of us, parents and teachers, doctors and gardeners, builders and plumbers, accountants and cooks, and yes, priests and politicians, have been called to declare to our contemporaries that Christ is in our midst. John the Baptist declared his witness to Christ in preaching. Our witness as Christians can be done quietly yet just as effectively in our unfailing compassion for others, in our uncompromising moral and ethical convictions, in our efforts to celebrate the art of forgiveness with others, and in our daily sense of joy and purpose. That to me is what holiness is all about. And one could also say that serving the Lord is ordinary thing a Christian is expected to do.
 

Last weekend, we celebrated the Feast of Epiphany, that moment in time when God revealed his son, Jesus, to wise men from the east. Today’s gospel goes one step further. This time Jesus finds out who he is. “This is my beloved son with whom I am well pleased.”

History tells us little of what Jesus did as a young adult. We can presume that he lived in Nazareth and worked as a carpenter, following in the footsteps of Joseph. After his baptism, he had a religious experience that forever changed the world. He was gripped by a deep unforgettable awareness of being fully loved by God. Such an experience, which one would call mystical, is never forgotten. From then on, no matter what happened, no matter how others reacted to what he said, Jesus carried on with his mission, fully aware that he was indeed God’s beloved son.

In those days, such a notion was radical. Until then, the relationship between God and humanity had been anything but intimate. Although they viewed themselves as God’s chosen people, even the Jews considered God as a distant deity; so sacred that his name could not even be said. Jesus narrowed the gap considerably. When asked how one should pray, he said, “When you pray, pray, ‘Our Father, who art in heaven.’

For most of us, that prayer is a daily experience. To his peers, the thought of addressing God so intimately was unthinkable. God was seen as one who was to be appeased or they would be punished.  Yet as Jesus taught repeatedly, God does not want to punish. To the contrary, God has always wanted to save humanity from the consequences of sin. Now the moment has arrived to send forth his Son to accomplish this mission.  Like any Sunday readings, however, the message here is not merely historical or biographical.

There is more to this story than simply the baptism of Jesus. This story is our story as well.

As Christians, we share the common experience of baptism, for it is only through baptism that one becomes a Christian. This sacrament is our initiation into the Christian community. Together, we profess our common belief in God as Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. God isn’t to be seen as a distant deity out to punish us, but as a Father who has invited us to be one with his Son in a relationship anointed by the Holy Spirit.

Through baptism, we became sons and daughters of God. Our humanity was gifted with a share in Jesus’ divinity.  One thought comes to mind, could God, looking at the way we treat one another, say of each of us, “Here is my beloved daughter, my beloved son, in whom I am well pleased”?

Only Matthew recounts John’s resistance to baptizing Jesus, but Jesus tells him that the point of his baptism is “to fulfill all righteousness.” Fr. John Donohue, a scripture scholar, surmises that a better way to translate that line would be, “bring to fullness all justice.” That makes sense to me for this envisions Jesus continuing the mission of the servant that we heard about in the first reading from Isaiah.

In the first of his four servant songs, Isaiah describes Jesus very well. At his baptism, Jesus recognized himself taking on the role of the suffering servant. “I formed you, and set you as a covenant of the people, a light for the nations, to open the eyes of the blind, to bring out prisoners from confinement, and from the dungeon, those who live in darkness.”

But God is not speaking only to Jesus. God is calling on us to listen to this servant song as well. Out of the sea of humanity, we have been chosen to manifest the same message of hope that Isaiah spoke of so long ago. In his commentary on Isaiah, Fr. Daniel Barrigan writes, “If I am chosen, if you are chosen, if, as a community, we are chosen, it is in order to be sent as a sign of God’s loving compassion to the world.”

I long thought this was an odd feast for closing out the Christmas season; after all, Jesus is now an adult, but now I see the logic. If the message we heard at Christmas, summed by the angels as peace on earth and good will toward all, is to be manifested in the coming year, it can only happen through us. And that won’t be done unless we freely choose to do what we can individually and collectively as a faith community to heed God’s call to justice.

As followers of Christ, we must open our eyes to the blind: instructing, explaining, evangelizing. That is one reason why we must learn our faith well, studying and reading any chance we have. We must liberate prisoners from the confinement of their inferiority complexes, their fears and their physical limitations by lending a helping hand, saying an encouraging word, uttering a prayer.  As the Hindu greeting expresses it, namaste…the God in me greets the God in you.

While the season closes with this Mass, we are by no means finished with Christmas. It is now time for us to make use of its treasures. The good news spoken by angels continues to unfold as we endeavor to seek out the lost, to heal the sick and the hurting, to feed the hungry, to liberate the imprisoned, to rebuild families and nations, to bring peace to peoples everywhere, especially in our own families.

Baptism is the most precious gift we have received. Clothed in the Spirit; let us resolve to live new lives that will prompt God to say to us one day, “This is my beloved child with whom I am well pleased.”
 

The prophet Isaiah paints an upbeat scene for us when he proclaims, “Those whom the Lord has ransomed will return and enter Zion singing, crowned with everlasting joy; they will meet with joy and gladness, sorrow and mourning will flee.”

Will that idyllic setting include you and me? That is our hope as we gather here in prayer. Jesus said in the closing lines of Matthew’s gospel, “Amen, I say to you, among those born of women, there has been none greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.” Imagine that, no matter how insignificant we may feel in the sight of others, by virtue of our baptism, we are numbered amongst the greatest for we have been graced by God to confront the power of sin in our lives. The joy and gladness of God’s kingdom can be ours.

Yet there is a catch here. Baptism itself is no guarantee to our salvation. I share that caution with parents who ask to have a child baptized. I remind them that baptism is the start of a life long faith journey whose outcome isn’t decided until we cross the threshold of death. There will be times along the way when our relationship with Jesus will be tested. If we keep in mind that no friendship can grow, much less survive, without the mutual efforts of both parties, we can see that sustaining our relationship with Jesus, especially when our expectations are not being met, demands attention and effort on our part.

John the Baptist had his disillusioning moments. Sitting in a prison cell, he is no longer certain if Jesus indeed is the Messiah. Many of the Jewish people were anticipating a mighty revolutionary leader who would overthrow the Romans and restore Israel as a powerful kingdom. He sent his disciples to ask if Jesus is the one who is to come or if they should expect someone else.

Jesus replies, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them.” Jesus knows that such a litany will not meet every one’s expectations of the messiah even though what he is doing resonates with Isaiah’s image of a messiah.

Perhaps John the Baptist was reminded of the passage from Isaiah that we just heard when he hears Jesus’ response to his query. Still I suspect that he was surprised by what he heard. Jesus said nothing about sinners being condemned, the temple destroyed, or enemies defeated. The fire that Jesus came to light was the warm and gentle fire of God’s love, not the raging inferno of God’s anger that John had alluded to in his ministry. What John and the rest of us need to remember though is that final bit of advice spoken by Jesus, “And blessed is the one who takes no offense at me.”

Unfortunately, a fair number of our fellow Catholics have done just that. They have taken offense to some teaching of the Church, ranging from birth control to purgatory, thus taking offense at Jesus for the Church speaks today on behalf of Christ. Or they have taken offense to the human side of the Church, choosing instead to forsake what the Church has to offer by walking away from its sacraments, its tradition and the faith community itself.

James advises us to be patient until the coming of the Lord. Some of us are and some of us aren’t. Our response pretty much depends on the role we allow Jesus to play in our daily lives. Those who believe Jesus is the one who can save us, discover through prayer that Jesus has come to free us for an unfettered life of peace, joy and love. Those who don’t endeavor to deepen their relationship with Jesus tend to live their faith minimally, if at all. As a result, they may find themselves left out in the cold someday when they meet Christ as suggested by an anonymous poet who wrote this variation of “The Night before Christmas.”

‘Twas the night before Christ came and all through the house

 not a creature was praying, not one in the house.

Their Bibles were lain on the shelf without care,

        in hopes that Jesus would not come there.

The children were dressing to crawl into bed,

        not once ever kneeling or bowing a head;

And mom in her rocker with baby on her lap,

        was watching a late show while I took a nap;

When out of the East there rose such a clatter,

        I sprang to my feet to see what was the matter;

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

        threw open the shutters and threw up the sash.

 

The light of his face made me cover my head,

        it was Jesus returning like he said.

And though I possessed worldly wisdom and wealth,

        I cried when I saw him in spite of myself.

In the book of life, which he held in his hand,

        was written the name of every saved man.

He spoke not a word as he searched for my name,

        when he said, “It’s not here!” my head hung in shame.

 

The people whose names had been written with love,

        He gathered to take to his Father above.

With those who were ready he rose without a sound,

        while all the rest were left standing around.

I fell to my knees, but it was too late:

        I had waited too long and thus sealed my fate.

I stood and I cried as they rose out of sight.

        Oh, if only I had been ready tonight.

In the words of this poem the meaning is clear,

        the coming of Jesus is drawing near.

There’s only one life and when the last name is called,

        we’ll find that the Bible was true after all.

If there is any prayer that identifies us as Christians, it is the Lord’s Prayer. Short, concise, and to the point, this prayer conveys the essence of what being a Christian is all about. With the opening line, we express our advent hope, “thy kingdom come, thy will be done.”

What image comes to mind when you envision God’s kingdom? For the disciples, there was a hope that Jesus would free their land from Roman oppression but with the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem and the passing of time, that dream faded. The anticipation then became the majestic return of Jesus in the near future and the last judgment at the end of time. The idealism painted by Isaiah, which many call the peaceable kingdom, provides us with yet another image of God’s kingdom.

That passage sounds so uplifting. Isaiah paints a world free of violence and bloodshed; a world that brings together traditional enemies in the animal kingdom will also bring together traditional enemies amongst peoples as well. Centuries old animosity among and between Christians, Muslims, and Jews even though they worship the same God can leave any adherent wondering if the peaceable kingdom is merely an allusion.

Not according to Isaiah! Someday, enemies will come together and there will be peace on earth. But what needs to happen before God’s kingdom arrives becomes real? In no uncertain terms, John the Baptist tells anyone who would listen, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!” For years, I read what he said as a warning but it isn’t a warning at all. It is a lesson in logic. If you reform your lives, and that is what repent implies, you will experience the kingdom of heaven! In other words, John is warning us, unless we change our ways, God’s peaceable kingdom will remain an elusive dream.

Paul points out, “Whatever was written previously was written for our instruction, that by endurance and by the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.” Yes, everything necessary for our salvation has been accomplished. There is no need for any new revelations from God but we can be such slow learners! Imagine how different our world would be today if Christians in the past had continually endeavored to be an example of reconciliation for others? Can you picture how history could have been altered had past choices never been shaped by bigotry and prejudice?

We are wrong to think that the reprimand John the Baptist levels at the Pharisees and Scribes no longer concerns us. Matthew knew that all Christians, including you and me, needed to hear that same message. “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Produce good fruit as evidence of your repentance.” Put your words into action!

I often suggest to penitents to say the Lord’s Prayer slowly and reflectively as a penance and then carry out the promise that they have just made, which includes forgiving others just as they are asking God to forgive them.  Forgiving our enemies, whoever they may be, along with following God’s will are signs that we mean to reform our lives. Do that and we can do as Paul urges, “Welcome one another, then as Christ welcomed you, for the glory of God.”

Years ago, for my birthday, my younger sister gave me a plaque filled with a timeless message of wisdom on how we can bring about the kingdom of God. It is a message I wish I had read more often and taken to heart, especially when life was bumpy. The passage, entitled Desiderata, was written by a poet from Indiana eighty years ago.

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexations to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.