Fr. Rick Spicer

The setting is a small town in the Deep South. Atticus Finch, a lawyer by profession and a widower, lives with his two young children: a son, Jem, who is in the fifth grade and a daughter, Scout, who is in first grade. Though he is strict, he is good to them and they love him. An upright man and an excellent lawyer, Atticus has become unpopular by agreeing to defend a black man who has been charged with a serious crime. Although the man is innocent, he stands little chance of getting a fair trial for many in the town are very prejudiced.

At the end of the street there lives a cranky elderly woman who is always giving Jem and Scout a bad time whenever they pass her house. What hurts the kids most of all are the names she calls their father because he is defending the black man.

One evening, Jem decides he has had enough from her. He hops over her fence and destroys some of her flowers, including her prized camellias. He then runs home. When Atticus comes home, he shows his son some camellia buds and asked, “Jem, are you responsible for this?” After admitting to the act, his father said, “Son, you shouldn’t have done that.”

Jem protests that the old lady never has anything nice to say. “You should hear the things she says about you. I really did it because of you.” Atticus then tells Jem, “To do something like this to a sick old lady is inexcusable. Now go and apologize to her for what you did.”

Reluctantly he does. The woman asks Jem if he would agree to come and read to her for two hours each day for a month. Jem is horrified, but his father insists that he must do what she is asking of him. So each evening after dinner, Jem and Scout visit the old lady and read to her. They both hate it for she remains as cranky as ever and continues to insult their father.

Each evening after they had read for an hour, the old woman would start to tremble violently. The housekeeper would then tell them to leave so that the old lady could take her medicine. As the weeks go by, the fits become less frequent and less severe. When the month is up, Jem wants to quit but his father said, “Just one more week, son.” That week, he notices she had no more fits but she was just as cantankerous as ever.

One evening, Atticus comes home and tells Jem and Scout that the old lady had just died. He then tells them something which changed their whole attitude toward her. He told them that she was addicted to pain killers and was determined to kick the habit before she died. Those fits which Jem and Scout had seen were withdrawal symptoms of her drug addiction. “Did she succeed?” they asked. “She did,” Atticus replied. “And just before she died, she told me that she would never have succeeded if you hadn’t come and read to her. She wanted me to thank you with this gift.”

Jem and Scout were flabbergasted to discover a beautiful, white, waxy, perfect camellia in the box. “Why can’t she leave me alone?” Jem screamed. Hugging him, Atticus said, “I think that is her way of telling you that everything’s all right now.” Those two children didn’t realize the full significance of the task their father had asked them to do, yet they obeyed him in a spirit of love. That scene, by the way, comes from a modern classic published 50 years ago, To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee.

In the gospel, we see how Mary also consented to what was being asked of her: to become the mother of our redeemer. She was willing to the will of God despite the risk involved. When she said, “Yes,” I imagine Mary had little idea of what she was in for. Despite the pains she later experienced, she never waivered from doing God’s will. In good times and bad, she relied on God, who in turn enabled her to remain faithful. Without that initial consent, given at the annunciation, we wouldn’t likely be here today.

Each of us said yes many times over when we have undertaken commitments and responsibilities at our baptisms, our weddings, the day we were hired, along with countless other promises we have made. And when we did, we did not always know what was in store for us. Like Mary, we have to affirm our “yeses” many times over and as we do, we sometimes need to ask God to help us remain faithful to the commitments we have made.

Sometimes we cannot see the full meaning of what we are asked to do by God or someone else. As it was for Jem and Scout, fulfilling the commitment at hand may be challenging, especially if the task is unpleasant or if we are left feeling that no one appreciates what is being done. Like Mary, we have to go on confirming our consent in a spirit of loving obedience to God’s will.

This last week of Advent can be wonder days for families. There will be work and stress ahead but look for the possibilities for love and joy: decorating the home, shopping for a special present for someone you love, baking cookies, caroling, sending cards, taking time to reflect on the mystery we will soon celebrate or to ask God for the grace to handle all that needs to be done without feeling helpless. When we feel helpless, we feel the need to have control over what is going on in our lives and when we can’t, we might turn to abusive power. Not only does that hurt our relationships but it also contradicts the meaning of Christmas.

Like Mary, we are the living temple of God’s presence. What we say and do when done out of love goes far in making God’s presence felt by those around us. There is a reason to hold a loved one closer, to hug our children, to dress the season with hope, warmth, and holy splendor. When you go forth, make this last week of Advent a good and loving week so that you can make this a Christmas your family can long remember with joy.

I celebrated my birthday last Thursday in a rather unusual way, sitting before the Blessed Sacrament hearing confessions. How profound the evening became as I extended absolution to those who came to seeking forgiveness by acknowledging their sins in the sacrament of reconciliation. I felt they were receiving a new lease on life when I said, “Go in peace, your sins are forgiven.”

Forgiveness is what people of the whole Judean countryside sought as they acknowledged their sins and were baptized in the Jordan River by John the Baptist.

Forgiveness hits a tender spot. We have all done some stupid and immoral things from sniveling lies to large betrayals and maybe even worse. None of us wants the burden of shame and guilt as we live. Instead, we want forgiveness. None of us wants justice when we die. We want mercy.

Forgiveness from God, however, depends on our willingness to forgive others. Buried deep in the Lord’s Prayer is that line which goes, “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” The penance I gave most often that night was for the penitent to say that prayer thoughtfully before going to bed, then pray for those whom they needed to forgive and for those whose forgiveness they desired.

Knowing that God’s forgiveness depends on practicing the art of forgiveness ourselves, I thought that I would share with you the ten commandments of forgiveness. I do not expect you to remember all of them, but hopefully you will remember those that strike a chord with you.

The first commandment: forgiveness is not easy. We can’t just mumble, “I forgive you,” and presume that all is well. There is no quick fix, especially when the hurt is deep. Since forgiveness takes time, begin by asking God to start the process for you.

The second commandment: Forgiveness is not forgetting. The two words do not mean the same thing. Forgiveness is about a change of heart, not the erasing of a memory.

The third commandment: Forgiveness does not overlook evil nor does it mean denial. It doesn’t mean, “Let’s pretend it didn’t happen.” Someone who was hurt needs healing.

The fourth commandment: forgiveness isn’t indifference. We cannot go back to business as usual and let the hurt and damage go on. Instead, we should do what we can to make sure the evil won’t happen again.

The fifth commandment: forgiveness isn’t the same thing as approval. We can forgive yet still express our disapproval of the harmful behavior. Forgiveness doesn’t mean giving you permission to harm me again by your action.

The sixth commandment: forgiveness is recognizing that people are always bigger than their faults, their mistakes, and their wrong doing. In other words, we shouldn’t define who somebody is by something they said or did to us.

The seventh commandment: forgiveness is being willing to let go of the anger that prevents the rebuilding of a broken relationship by allowing the person who has offended us to start over again.

The eighth commandment: forgiveness recognizes the humanity of the person who has wronged us along with our shortcomings and our contribution to what went wrong.

The ninth commandment: forgiveness surrenders the right to get even. Forgiveness does not allow for revenge.

The tenth commandment: forgiveness means we wish the person or group who hurt us well. In fact, we wish them the best. That is tough, but basically we are letting God be the final judge and commend them to God’s mercy.

John the Baptist dared to be different and he dares us to also be different. He calls us to a change of heart, providing down to earth advice on how to change our lives for the better by filling in the valleys of prejudice, leveling our mountains of pride, and straightening our crooked paths of injustice. He is calling on us to prepare the way of the Lord and that means walking a new path. Celebrating the art of forgiveness when the need arises is one opportunity we must not pass up if we are to do our part in announcing the coming of Christ to others.

Life is a waiting game. We find ourselves waiting for the birth of a child, for the traffic light to change, to get on the ferry, for friends to arrive, or for dinner to be served. Hardly a day goes by when we don’t find ourselves waiting for something or someone and when the moment arrives, we are filled with joy and delight. Friday night, for example, I had dinner with some long time friends. The date had been set months ago, knowing that they would be in town for the Apple Cup. Today, the long wait of many years is over now that we find ourselves actually praying from the new Roman Missal. And of course, as soon as we finish one wait, we begin another. On this first weekend of Advent, we begin our wait of four weeks to celebrate the birth of Jesus.

When it comes to waiting, how do we pass the time? I can picture the father pacing the floor while the mother-to-be is in labor, impatient drivers drumming their fingers on the steering wheel staring at the traffic light, reading a book or chatting on a cell phone as they slowly inch toward the ferry loading area, or a host making certain everything is in place before the guests arrive. The ultimate question raised by these readings is this: what are we doing as we wait for the Lord to come? Jesus gives us pithy advice: “Be watchful! Be alert!”

Does he mean for us to sit still and stare at the heavens? Hardly. He is inviting us to share the present moment with him, to surrender to him, to hear his voice, to do his will, while we wait.

As I said, life is a waiting game. Ultimately, we are waiting for the moment we cross the threshold of death, hopefully to eternal life. This will be the moment when we will encounter the Christ in a way we have yet to fully imagine. Scripture is filled with many descriptions of our pending personal judgment. Jesus will judge our willingness to accept his offer of eternal life by the manner in which we lived this lifetime waiting for him to call us home.

The real challenge of Advent is to prepare ourselves in body and soul for that great moment, by letting God’s presence and power get to work in our lives. Life is incomplete without God and we are inadequate without his presence. God alone can fill us with true inner peace. This season makes us aware of our need to turn to God in hope and humble prayer, begging him to save us from our sin so that when we stand in judgment before his son, we will hear words of welcome, not rejection.

If in the past year, we have abandoned God, neglected prayer, or broken the commandments, now is the time to make a fresh start at building a closer relationship with the Lord. Liturgically speaking, we begin a New Year, so this would be a fitting time to adopt resolutions that would enable us to keep “watch” as Jesus urges us to.

Christian tradition has long interpreted his message to be watchful for the moment of our death, our final moment in this life. We are advised, “Be ready to die, be ready for the moment, don’t be caught off guard when God taps you on the shoulder and asks for an accounting of your stewardship.” While that is a valid understanding of these readings, it isn’t the only one. We should be on the watch for the many opportunities in the course of any given day when we can respond to God’s presence.

God values our response to his love and when you stop to think about it, there are countless ways we can respond; visiting the sick, feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, welcoming the stranger, being neighborly, seeking reconciliation if necessary, spending quiet time in prayer, reading scripture, attending daily Mass to name but a few. We pass through this world only once and any good we can do should be done now. While Advent is a time of waiting for God to come into our lives, keep in mind that God has been waiting for us longer than we have been waiting for him.

Go to any local hardware store and you will find nails in all shapes and sizes from brads to spikes. As simple as a nail may be, its mission is important. As one nursery rhyme puts it, “For the want of a nail, the shoe was lost; for the want of a shoe, the horse was lost; for the want of a horse, the soldier was lost; for the want of a soldier, the battle was lost; for the want of a battle, the war was lost.” The lowly nail keeps things together.

What can be said about the value of a nail can also be said about the value of each person’s talent in the scheme of life. Every person, blessed with talents by God, is expected to do something toward making a difference in this world if the kingdom of God is to be realized.

The servant who returned with only one talent was punished for making no use of what he had been given. Have you been in his shoes? How often do we hesitate to act out of fear that we will fail or that others could do a better job? Many people say, “Not me,” convinced that what little they could do wouldn’t make much difference anyway. As the lazy servant discovered, holding back did not good for anyone, especially for him. The king was counting on everyone to do something.

In any parish, many of its members excuse themselves from participating in its different ministries, convinced that their gifts are too modest to make any difference. Yet their gifts of time, talent and treasure are as important to God and the building of his kingdom as the missing nail is to the soldier in battle. To hold back on what we have to offer is to become the missing nail that is sorely needed at this point in time.

Ultimately, the servant punished himself and so do we when we hoard what we have. Years ago, I read an article that made the point that those who have a strong love of heaven have always worked the hardest for a better world. Conversely, we can deduce that those who aren’t so motivated to improve the world we live in really don’t have much love for heaven either.

Blessed Pope John Paul II once puzzled people in attendance at a general audience in Rome when he noted that heaven isn’t a physical reality but a state of the being. Heaven, he said, is neither an abstraction nor a place in the clouds. Instead, heaven is a living personal relationship with the Trinity.

If we use our talents to work for the reign of God in this lifetime, we can look forward to hearing those happy words in today’s gospel, “”Well done, my good and faithful servant. Come, share your master’s joy.” On the other hand, if we choose to hold back, we do little to deepen our relationship with God. We shortchange ourselves and may get the same rebuke that the hesitant servant received. When Jesus comes as a thief in the night, can we really expect him to invite us to share in the joy of what has been brought about without any effort on our part?

The lesson of this parable is obvious to me. We all have some part in bringing about God’s plan for our world. To others, what we can contribute may seem small, like a brad, yet even a brad, any homebuilder will tell you, is vital in the right place. God is asking us to use the talents, that is, the gifts we have been given and to put them to the service of God and others, not bury them in the deepest recesses of our being.

Last week, the gospel spoke of lamps, and we reflected on “this little light of mine.” I observed how if one candle dispels the darkness, imagine how bright many candles would be. Fred McCarthy went one step further, “If everyone lit just one little candle, what a bright world this would be!” If every one of you would take the time to wander through the ministry fair and engage your talents in someway, imagine how much more this parish can do toward building up God’s kingdom.

When we hear the word, talent, we think of a person’s innate abilities, but the origin of this word can be traced back to this parable. In biblical times, a talent was a vast sum of money, equal to 6000 days of wages for the average peasant.

As you consider how to invest your talents in our parish, I urge you to consider both your abilities and your treasures. Hopefully you spent time the past week reflecting on them and today you are ready to make a commitment.

To help us with our future planning, we ask that you make a commitment to share your treasure. Ideally, we should be returning to God 10% of our income; that is the biblical notion of tithing. We are urged to give half of that to the parish and the other half to other charities. If you aren’t there yet, consider taking another step in that direction.

If you haven’t completed a card, pick one up now and take this opportunity to fill it out. On the reverse side, you will find a chart to help you calculate what a fair and sacrificial pledge should be.

You can make your contributions through electronic fund transfer from your checking or savings account. This can be arranged once you provide the necessary deposit slip.

If you are sitting there, still hesitant to fill out the treasure card, consider this: the precious fragility of life should prompt us to use our gifts now before it is too late. Jesus wants us all to give and to grow by using our talents, that is, both our treasures and our abilities, for the good of others, not just for ourselves. Even the mediocre use of one’s talents will merit his invitation, “Well done, my good and faithful servant…Come, share your master’s joy.”

There are more interpretations to this story than there are young women; the one that fits today is being prepared. How often do some of us find ourselves ill-prepared, as did the foolish virgins? Paul’s caution about those falling asleep brings to mind a story that I suspect some college alumni can relate to.

The night before his first final exam, a young freshman, who believed that he always worked best under pressure, finally began to study at 10:00. He was doing well, reviewing his notes and highlighting certain passages in his textbooks. Around 2 in the morning, he fell asleep at his desk. When he woke up, he was stunned to discover that the period for his test was half over.

Grabbing his pen, he ran to class. There he desperately explained to his professor what had happened. Naturally, the teacher wasn’t sympathetic and just said, “Well, do what you can with the time you have.” Needless to say, he flunked the exam.

In this parable, Jesus labeled five virgins as foolish for not being prepared. All ten were prepared for the immediate arrival of the groom but unlike those who were wise, the foolish virgins did not have sufficient oil for their lamps to last through the night. Caught short handed, they left to fetch more oil elsewhere and while they were gone, the groom arrived and the feast began without them.

That the wise virgins refused to share their oil sounds selfish but Jesus was speaking of something that could not be shared. If we think of the oil as good deeds and acts of love, we can see why the wise virgins could not share what they had. While I can borrow a cup of sugar from you, I cannot borrow your good deeds or your relationship with God.

The oil we use to light our lamps comes from living a life of stewardship. Such a life, which Archbishop Sartain calls the heart of our Catholic faith, asks us to share our gifts of time, talent and treasure for the sake of building up the kingdom of God. Yes, the gifts you offer benefit the parish but more importantly, your gifts benefit your relationship with God for they are your response to God’s goodness in your life.

This parable stresses that we are accountable for our good deeds or lack of them. If we keep putting off what really matters, namely, nurturing our relationship with God, Jesus could one day say, “I do not know you.” As the foolish virgins and the college freshman discovered too late, each person has to be prepared to stand in the presence of God, for we know not when that moment comes when we will be taking the ultimate final exam.

What separated the wise from the foolish is that they were prepared for the moment while the foolish virgins were not. Wise followers know the value of prayerfully and generously living each day in response to the goodness of God in their lives. Their lamps are oiled so that they would always be lit. Elsewhere in Matthew’s gospel, Jesus says, “Let your light shine before others so they may see your good works and give glory to God.” One light dispels the darkness but imagine what a difference many lights create.

“God gives it all then calls us to share.” He did not predestine us to be foolish or wise; the choice to share is ours to make. If we want Christ to recognize us, we have to invest in a relationship with him in this lifetime and that is done by giving generously of our time, talent and treasure, thus, being a light to others. Giving minimally is a foolish choice for that is hardly investing in the most important relationship we can have for all eternity.

I now invite Fred McCarthy, the chair of our stewardship commission to share his reflection on the value of stewardship in our lives and the life of our parish community.