Fr. Rick Spicer

As Advent draws to a close, Matthew tells us, “Joseph, her husband, since he was a righteousman, yet unwilling to expose Mary to shame, decided to divorce her quietly.” He could legally have had Mary stoned to death for presumably she was no longer a virgin. Jewish law back then called for such punishment.  Being righteous, Joseph was compelled instead to spare Mary any public humiliation and divorce her quietly but an angel’s appearance changed all that.  

The angel told Joseph, “Do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home for it is through the Holy Spirit that this child has been conceived in her.” The angel’s challenge to Joseph to do what was right brings to mind an article by an American essayist, Ardis Whitman, entitled, “The Courage to Trust.” He tells how he once found himself sitting next to Martin Luther King, Jr. on a flight. On the opposite side was a middle-aged man also from the south.

During the flight, Mr. Whitman and Dr. King talked about many things, including the improved racial relations between blacks and whites. The middle-aged man was obviously listening to their conversation but he said nothing. Finally he broke his silence and observed, “My children will have no trouble accepting these things. I have learned to accept them, but my father, he will never accept them.”

Dr. King turned to him and said compassionately, “Your father is doing what he believes is right.” Moved by that remark, the man replied, “Thank you for thinking that of my father.” Mr. Whitman went on to say that Dr. King had the wonderful ability to trust that even his enemies in their hearts had the desire to do what is right.

I share this story because I think it gets to the heart of today’s readings.  Often we are motivated to do what we believe is right. Even King Ahaz felt that way when he told Isaiah, “I will not tempt the Lord!” Instead of commending this wayward king, Isaiah instead bemoans, “Is it not enough for you to weary people, must you also weary my God?” Might we be doing the same thing when we are reluctant to trust God, trust others, or even trust ourselves?

Ideally what we think is right enables us to be righteous, that is, to be morally upright without guilt or sin. In biblical times, if a groom learned that his bride was not a virgin, he could have her stoned to death. That punishment was legally called for, but was it morally right? Joseph thought otherwise so he instead planned to divorce Mary quietly until the angel told him to take her as his wife. If there was one thing he and Mary needed then and there, it was trust.  

Mary had to trust that what she consented to was right. She was a virgin yet she was bearing a child conceived in her womb by the Holy Spirit. When she shared the news of her pregnancy with Joseph, Mary had to trust that he would not accuse her of adultery and have her stoned to death. Joseph had to trust what the angel told him and receive Mary into his home as his wife. Because Mary, Joseph and God trusted one another, the Son of God was born in Bethlehem to bring us salvation. Not only must we trust God as both Mary and Joseph did, but we must learn to trust others just as they did.

In that same article, Mr. Whitman recalled an event from his childhood when he went to the circus. There the trapeze performers thrilled him, as they swung back and forth high in the air, catching each other at the last minute. As he watched, he asked his mother, “Aren’t they scared?” Before she could reply, a man in the row in front of her turned and said, “They aren’t scared. They trust each other.” Someone else then said, “That man should know. He used to perform on the high wire himself.” Yes, we must trust one another yet the world we live in is a fearful place. If you are fearful, imagine the angel speaking to you, “do not be afraid.” To increase our capacity to trust, we need faith in ourselves.

The most difficult trust of all is learning to trust ourselves and in our own goodness and value as persons. The dictionary defines trust as “confident hope.”  Unlike Mary and Joseph, that is what Ahaz lacked. Trusting in our own value as a member of the community. Trusting that God has made us for some special purpose. An atmosphere of trust is as necessary as air or water to human life. When we find ourselves at odds with the Church regarding God’s ways, might we no longer be trusting God to know what is best for us? Have we the confident hope that God cares about us?

Fr. John Powell in his book, Through Seasons of the Heart, writes, “God sends each person into this world with a special message to deliver, with a special song to sing, with a special act of love to bestow.” I recall my mother telling me much the same thing when I was growing up. They were right. No one else can speak our special message. No one else can sing our special song. No one else can bestow our special act of love. If we don’t, then a part of God’s plan will go unfulfilled. A part of God’s glory goes unseen. Imagine where we would be today if Mary or Joseph had chosen not to sing their songs of trust.

Young or old, rich or poor, everyone here has a mission to help build up God’s kingdom. Not only must we believe that God made us for a special purpose, we must trust that God will help us achieve that purpose. Ahaz abandoned his trust in God and in himself. Dare we weary our God or have we the courage to ultimately trust that God indeed is with us when we follow his ways?

“Be patient, brothers and sisters, until the coming of the Lord,” James pleads. Patient? For any of us who had to wait for the ferry, there are times when we are not patient. When the need arises to be patient, I am mindful of a prayer by St. Theresa of Avila. “Lord, I want patience and I want it now!”

In the opening scene of the gospel, we find John the Baptist in prison and he doesn’t sound too patient. Was he impatient because his cousin, Jesus, hadn’t rescued him? After all, Jesus claimed, quoting the prophet Isaiah, that he was sent “to proclaim liberty to captives.”

Perhaps John the Baptist expected the kingdom of God to come very soon, liberating Israel from the oppressive Romans. Since that wasn’t happening, he sent his disciples to inquire, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?” In other words, are you the Messiah or not? In reply, Jesus paraphrases the passage from Isaiah that we just heard, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, and the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them. And blessed is the one who takes no offense at me.”

Yes, blessed is that person who is not offended by what Jesus does and has done. Yet how often have we wondered that same question posed by John, “Are you the one who is to come?” Are you the one who is going to supposedly save the world? If so, why is the world still such a mess?

Any one of us might be wondering, Lord, do you see how many are suffering from refugees at the Rio Grande to children huddled in bombed out buildings in Gaza and Syria? From communities destroyed by forest fires to villages in Africa decimated by diseases? Do you see that too many young people are dying too soon from violence, war, illness or addictions? People offer any number of reasons why there is still suffering in our world. Some even question if God exists while others contend that God doesn’t care. You could say that they have taken offense at Jesus.

“The one who is to come” was one of the many titles for the Messiah. At that time Israel was alive with the hope and anticipation that the Messiah would soon come and free them from the oppression they suffered from. History tells us that the Messiah was not to be a political liberator.

Who are we looking for in our Messiah? John the Baptist, even while he was in his mother’s womb, recognized Jesus as the Messiah but even he, in the darkness of his prison, had doubts and needed reassurance that Jesus was indeed the Messiah sent by God. There may be times in our lives when our faith is growing weak; our hope is dying, and our charity running low. In such moments, we need not despair. Even John the Baptist had troubled times. We should turn to Christ, not because we expect him to magically make everything better, but because he can renew our faith.

As James tells us, until the day comes when God takes us to our heavenly dwelling, we have to wait patiently with faith. Some lose patience and faith, thus they look elsewhere for a new savior. Granted, my friends, bad things will happen to good people so long as we have free will, but there is no other answer to life’s ups and downs as far as I know. It is in Christ, our Messiah, that we can find our lasting joy.

As I said, James urges us to be patient, reminding us that the coming of the Lord is at hand. To us, 2000 years may seem like an eternity but when you consider the age of the universe, that span of time is like a second to God.

In the meantime, we must take up Isaiah’s dream and perform works of mercy as Christ did. There are still poor to be fed, the sick to be visited, sinners to be admonished and offenses to be forgiven. When we continue Christ’s ministry in this way, not only will we find him alive and still at work, but we can also share his hands and voice and heart with a world in desperate need of encountering the Lord.

This gospel passage poses the problem of our acceptance or rejection of the person of Jesus as our Messiah. John’s question is just as relevant today for us as it was then. Is Jesus the Messiah we are looking for? The season of Advent is a good and opportune time to assess what impact and influence Jesus has on our behavior and values.

 

Psalm 146, which we heard today, reminds us of God’s vision for our world, that the oppressed will experience justice and the hungry will be fed. Captives will be set free and all will experience a better world.

 

That is the mission and vision of Catholic Community Services. I now invite Brady to come and share with us how we can all be engaged in their vision for a better world.

John the Baptist appeared preaching in the desert of Judea saying, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!” What image comes to mind when we envision God’s kingdom? For the early church, there was the hope that Jesus would soon restore the sovereignty of Israel but with the destruction of the temple and the passing of time, that dream faded. The anticipation then became the majestic return of Jesus Christ and the last judgment at the end of time. The idealism painted by Isaiah some 700 years before the birth of Christ, which many call the peaceable kingdom, provides yet another image of God’s kingdom.

Doesn’t that sounds so nice? Isaiah paints for us a world free of violence and bloodshed; a world that brings together traditional enemies in the animal kingdom will also bring together traditional enemies among humans: Israelis and Palestinians, Muslims and Christians, Native Americans and Americans of European descent, to name but a few.

On that day, there will be peace on earth! But what needs to happen before God’s kingdom actually arrives on the scene? John the Baptist tells anyone who would listen, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!” That sounds like a disturbing dire warning since he then adds, “every tree that does not bear good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.” But actually, he is giving us a lesson in logic. If we truly repent, we will experience the kingdom of God! So long as we remain mired in our sinful ways, however, God’s peaceable kingdom remains an elusive dream.

Paul points out, “Whatever was written previously was written for our instruction, that by endurance and the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.” So true, everything necessary for our salvation has been done. There is no need for any new revelation from God but we can be such slow learners to grasp what has already been revealed! Imagine how different our world would be today if Christians of past generations had continually endeavored to set an example of repentance for others to follow. How different could our world become now if we would repent in the manner that John the Baptist has in mind?

We are fooling ourselves if the reprimand that John the Baptist levels at the Pharisees and the Scribes does not concern us. Matthew knew that all Christians, including you and me, needed to hear the same message. “Your brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Produce good fruit as evidence of your repentance.”

The repentance that he calls for demands more than an apology. John is calling for the reshaping of our inner self. Prayer is an essential tool for doing so, helping us to chip away at whatever we cling to that blocks us from God.

There are serious consequences if his call to repentance is not heeded. John points out that any tree that does not bear fruit will be cut down at its root and thrown into the fire. Such strong language is meant to get our attention. Like a mother warning her child not to touch the hot burner on the stove, John speaks in shocking ways to startle us into action.

He has no patience for those who are not sincere in their quest to repent. Isaiah describes what good fruit looks like: all creatures and the whole creation existing in peaceful harmony. There is justice and compassion for all, especially for those most afflicted. The kingdom will emerge when the followers of Christ the King endeavor to advance it.

The Greek word that Matthew uses for repentance is metanoia, which means to “change the mind.” This is not a shift of preference among choices, as the phrase means today, but is best understood as “change your attitude.” Take on a new mindset. That may seem like a tall order but it can be done. Total repentance, as these readings point out, can be achieved but it takes time and effort like breaking bad habits do such as smoking, gossip or pornography to taking on a new routine like exercise and daily prayer.

Complacency toward our need to repent could describe the mindset of many Catholics, who think that being one is the key for getting into heaven. Are we riding on the coattails of tradition like the Pharisees did whom John rebuked? Just as he cautioned the Pharisees, we are not to do so. Ignore John’s call to repentance and you could find yourself swept along with the chaff into the unquenchable fire.

A traveling artist was painting portraits at an art festival. One of his customers was the town drunk. Despite his dirty unshaven face and crumpled clothes, he sat for his portrait with all the dignity he could muster. After much time, the artist presented the finished painting. “This isn’t me!” the astonished drunk slurred as he studied the smiling, well-dressed man in the portrait. The artist, who had looked beneath the exterior and seen his inner beauty, thoughtfully replied, “But it is the man you could be….”

The artist’s reply offers us a message of hope, doesn’t it? Imagine who you really could be if you followed John’s plea and repented. Old anger and bitter resentments litter our paths, as do potholes of pride and jealousy, which impede our safe faith journey. If we want to welcome salvation into our troubled world, we must first clear our paths of the obstacles that prevent Jesus from entering into our hearts. In the weeks ahead, repent, prepare the way of the Lord and make straight his paths.

Last weekend, we encountered a tax collector in the temple, humbly seeking God’s mercy. He knew he was a sinful man so he stood in the back of the temple praying, “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.” Today, we encounter another tax collector, Zacchaeus, who climbed a tree to see Jesus.

In Jesus’ times, tax collectors were lumped together with prostitutes and other sinners. They were judged sinners because they collected taxes for the Roman oppressors. Some became rich without doing anything more than sitting behind a table imposing taxes on their fellow Jews, keeping a percentage of what was collected as their salary. Since the money was being collected for the emperor who considered himself a god, Jews judged this activity scandalous.

Zacchaeus must have been shocked when Jesus looked up and said, “Zacchaeus, come down quickly, for today I must stay at your house.” Having a meal with someone is a gesture of friendship, and some times, intimacy. Clearly, Jesus wanted to be part of Zacchaeus’ life. Many people grumbled when they heard this, saying, “He has gone to stay at the house of a sinner.” No self respecting Jew would think of being a guest in the home of such a sinner.

Zacchaeus repents then and there and tells Jesus, “Behold, half of my possessions, Lord, I shall give to the poor, and if I have extorted anything from anyone, I shall repay it four times over.” While we cannot buy our salvation, his change of heart was a sign of true repentance. Jesus responded, “Today, salvation has come to this house because this man too is a descendant of Abraham. For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save what was lost.”

Notice that Jesus’ goal wasn’t to scold Zacchaeus but to show him God’s love and forgiveness. In turn, he responded to the mercy that Jesus was extending to him. Jesus could have easily passed him by. After all, he intended to just pass through the town. But Jesus reached out to Zacchaeus to offer him salvation and that gesture touched this short man profoundly.

Against the vastness of all creation, or just thinking how lost we can be in a crowd, we might easily dismiss the notion that God notices us, much less our sins, but that is the point of this story. God does notice us, loving each and every one of us unconditionally, even though due to our human nature, we are sinners. Just as Jesus did with Zacchaeus, so he does with each of us; he extends his divine mercy. Do we take God’s mercy for granted and go on with our lives, continuing to sin, or do we really try to change our lives as Zacchaeus did? Saying, “I’m sorry,” is good, but only if we intend to respond with a change of heart.

A couple who had a problem with their marriage once came to see their pastor. The problem was that the husband kept misbehaving, spending money foolishly, not coming home when he said he would, not doing his part of the household chores, etc. After the wife had her say, the pastor asked him if he had anything to add or subtract. He said, “I always tell her I’m sorry.” She spoke up, “Yes, he does, but he is not serious about being sorry. He just says the words and then continues to do these things.”

As you can see, it is not enough to say that we are sorry and receive forgiveness. We have to also change our actions. When we go to confession and say the act of contrition, we express our intent to amend or change our lives. Sometimes, when I say to the Lord, “I’m trying,” I hear him saying, “Well, try harder.”

Some of us treat the sacrament of Penance like a shower. Get in, get washed, get out and don’t worry about getting dirty again. Pope Francis has said, there is no limit to God’s mercy but we are not apt to experience that mercy when we are not contrite, much less remorseful.

When Jesus entered his home, I imagine Zacchaeus said, “Things have got to change.” That’s the reaction we have when we realize that all the surpassing good we have been granted in Jesus Christ,” (to paraphrase St. Paul).

The story of Zacchaeus challenges us to respond to the Lord’s mercy by waging war against sin in our own lives. The line from Wisdom about God overlooking sin is misleading. To the contrary, God “sees” our sins. No matter what the sin may be, we cannot hide our sin from God. God sees us as being scarred by life and our sins yet God also sees us as a person made in the image of God and unconditionally loved. God wants to say to us, “Salvation has come to this house,” but first we have to confront our sinfulness, which we do ideally through the sacrament of penance.

This sacrament, unlike the others, has three names: confession, penance, and reconciliation. Alas, many avoid this sacrament for any number of reasons, seeing no need to confess their sins to a priest. Yes, we can tell God our sins, but only a priest can extend the words of absolution, thus granting pardon for the wrong we have done. On behalf of Jesus, he can say to the penitent, “Your sins are forgiven, go in peace,” meaning that we have been reconciled to God and the Church. Often the suggested penance is a spiritual prescription to foster the needed change of heart to avoid future temptations, so that Jesus can say, “Salvation has come to this repentant child of mine,” just as he did to Zacchaeus.