Fr. Rick Spicer

Not much is really known about the magi. We assume they were three in number since Matthew only mentions three gifts. Might they have been kings? Astrologers? Priests of an eastern religion? Were they wise men? Were their names Caspar, Melchior and Balthasar? We don’t know but the facts aren’t important. What matters is what they did.

They came from the east, searching for the new born king of the Jews. They were seekers. “We saw his star at its rising and have come to do him homage.” Distance and time did not stop them from seeking what really mattered to them. They came from afar, reading the stars, making inquiries as they followed the star that stood out in the night sky. This was not the same as going down to the local grocery store in search of a missing ingredient for some dinner recipe.

Seeking is what people of faith continually find themselves doing. Static faith does not endure for long. Those who do not seek to enrich their faith through prayer and worship risk losing what faith they have.  This feast invites us to reflect on our ultimate goals in life. What matters to us in the long run? Are we really searching for God or merely paying lip service with so much else commanding our time and energy?

On Christmas, I talked about a father who kept a box in this closet marked “good stuff.”  This time, I want to talk about a son who found a box in his father’s bedroom closet that was marked “Christmas stuff.”

His father was a common laborer who could barely provide for his family. His mother was chronically ill, constantly in need of medical care that the family could hardly afford. Life was a succession of meager meals, second hand clothes and furniture. All the boy wanted to do was escape his poverty and he did, by focusing on school and work.  With guile and luck, he rose rapidly in the corporate world. By age 40, he had realized the American dream: a prestigious position with a New York investment firm, a beautiful home and family, and more than enough money to live securely for the rest of his life. The poverty of his childhood was a distant memory.

Then his father died. As far as he was concerned, his father died a failure. After the funeral, he went to clean out his father’s small apartment. He was embarrassed by the rickety furniture and the few possessions that made up his father’s “estate.”

In one closet, he found a box labeled “Christmas stuff.” For a few moments he was a boy again, reliving the joy of Christmases past when he was too young to realize how poor his family was. As he fingered the ornaments and the pieces of the manger scene, an incredible sadness overcame him. Then he spotted an envelope taped to the base of the manger. Inside was a letter, written by his father, dated Christmas 1955.

“Hi, Johnny, I’m your daddy. I’ve waited a long time to say that. How can I describe what it means to be your daddy? Words don’t easily come to me, but here goes. Johnny, to be your daddy means picking you up when you fall and holding you when you are afraid. Being your daddy means loving you just because you are my son. There’s so much in my heart, so many dreams for you. You have brought joy to our lives, a joy that your mom and I never thought we’d know.

“Johnny, a few weeks before we were married, the doctors told us that because of your mom’s health, we could never have a child of our own. We were crushed. Every morning and night, we prayed for a miracle. Months turned into years and then much to our surprise, you were born at 12:01 AM on December 8. Because of you, Christmas carries a special meaning for us.

“Son, I’ll never be rich. But I believe that if God could help us find our way to you, God will carry us every step of the way. We’ll always have each other and that’s more than I ever hoped for, much more than I probably deserve. Someday, Johnny, you’ll understand how I’m feeling. Just keep in mind who you are, where you’ve come from, and how much you are loved. Hold the blessings of Christmas close to your heart, because you are one of them. You are forever our miracle child.”

Johnny sat there in tears, clutching the most valuable piece of paper he had ever held. He realized how rich his parents were and how poor he had become.

Like the magi, we are on a pilgrimage; our lives are a constant search for meaning, for purpose, for God and the things of God. The gospel today invites us to consider the stars we follow to chart the course of our lives. Do we navigate by the stars that lead us to wealth, to power, to prestige –stars that change, move beyond us, eventually flame out of the sky altogether? Or do we fix our lives on the great “star” of God: peace, compassion, mercy, justice, forgiveness? It is never too late to discover as Johnny did late in his life’s journey, that the true measures of life are found in the things of God.

These decorations will soon be packed away in boxes labeled “Christmas stuff,” for another year, yet the message of Christmas is one we must ponder daily as we search for God in places and persons where we least expect to find him. In the coming year, may we show God and others what matters to us by taking time to pay homage as the magi did through prayer and worship. The magi found what they were looking for on their pilgrimage and so will we as we journey together with faith in the guiding star of Christ. As the message on some Christmas cards proclaim, “Wise men still seek him.” And so must we.

Today is traditionally a day of resolution making. So, on this feast of Mary, I would like to suggest some resolutions inspired by the mother of God.

Be open to God’s will. In our first scriptural encounter with Mary, we meet a young Jewish girl who says, “Yes,” to God’s strange request, even without total understanding. Her response was one of complete trust and courage. She didn’t say, “Who me? I’m engaged, what would people think?” She said, “Yes,” She believed she had gifts that were being called upon and she had the courage to be open to God’s will for her. Exercise the same openness to God when your gifts are called upon, even if you feel too busy or afraid. Trust and the power of the Holy Spirit will support you.

Be a Christ bearer to the world. The Greeks gave Mary the title, Theotokos, which means God-bearer. And, indeed, she is the bearer of God made flesh to the world. We, too, bear Christ’s Spirit in us and share him with the world through our presence, love, and service. This year, do your Christ-bearing more consciously and each time recognize Christ being reborn in you through your love and actions.

Be attentive to the needs of others. Remember the wedding feast at Cana? Mary was the one who noticed the depletion of wine, and she was the one who did something about it. Sensitive to others, she did not shrink from taking responsibility when she saw a need that she could help meet. Use that same sensitivity, attentiveness, and leadership in your home, neighborhood, and community.

Be compassionate toward those who suffer.  Mary at the foot of the cross was the epitome of compassion. She is also the compassionate companion of every sorrowful person who has experienced a loss, suffered sickness, heartache, and pain. This year when you are called upon to stand at the foot of the cross of those countless crosses of others, open yourself to share their pain with loving passion. Compassion means to suffer with.

Be open to the call of the spirit. In the story of Pentecost, we find Mary and the other disciples being empowered by Christ’s Spirit to become church. In that upper room, they understand what it means to bring Christ’s life, care, concern, attention, compassion, and hope to others. Place yourself next to Mary in that room, open yourself to the Spirit and better understand what living your baptismal call means. We are initiated into the church to make a difference in the world through our discipleship.

I wish you peace on this first feast of the New Year. Just think, we have finished the first decade of the 21st century. It certainly wasn’t what I had imagined it would be like but hopefully the new year will be a holy one filled with much grace. May your resolutions, whatever they are, enable you to experience the peace and grace you seek.

I pray that this new year will be a blessed one for you and may you be a blessings to others.  “May the Lord bless you and keep you! May the Lord let his face shine upon you, and be gracious to you! May the Lord look upon you kindly and give you peace!”

Christmas is a time of mystery and wonder, a time of memories upon memories. If Christmas is anything, it is memories that come alive and now. Each Christmas we recall past Christmases, and each Christmas we build more Christmas memories to cherish for years to come. Christmas has a special power to touch the heart.

In our Christmas memories, we find strength to deal with the present and we find the hope and courage we need to build the future. Granted, some Christmas memories are sad memories but even a sad memory can be a source of strength. To remember a sad Christmas from the past can help us appreciate more the Christmas we have right here and now.

You have your treasury of memories and I have mine, but now I want to share with you someone else’s memory, a father who kept a box in his closet marked “the good stuff,” that contained odds and ends of personal treasures. Much of what he kept in the box would not catch a thief’s interest but to him, they were priceless.

One of the keepsakes was a small lunch size paper sack. The top was sealed with duct tape, staples and several paper clips. There was a tear through which the contents could still be seen. What a packrat! He has had this bag for more than 20 years!

One morning as he was leaving for work, Molly, his seven year old daughter, handed him two paper sacks. One contained his lunch; the other was sealed with duct tape, staples and paper clips. Mystified by its appearance, he asked her what was in the bag. Molly said, “Just some stuff, take it with you.” At lunchtime, he tore open the bag and dumped its contents on his desk: two ribbons, three small stones, a plastic dinosaur, a tiny seashell, two animal crackers, a marble, two chocolate kisses and thirteen pennies. He smiled. How charming.

After finishing his lunch, the father swept his desk clean. Into the waste basket went the contents of Molly’s bag along with the garbage from his lunch. He thought to himself, “There wasn’t anything I needed.”  When he got home, Molly asked him, “Where is my bag?” “What bag?” “You know, the one I gave you this morning,” she replied.

Molly then explained, “I forgot to put this note in it. Besides, I want it back.” “Why?” “Those are my things in the bag, Daddy, the ones I really like. I thought you might like to play with them, but now I want them back. You didn’t toss the bag, did you?” she asked, her eyes filled with tears.

To him, they didn’t look like much but to Molly they were her most prized treasures. “Oh, no,” I just forgot to bring the bag home,” her father lied. As Molly hugged him, he opened the note, which said, “I love you Daddy.” Molly had given him all that a seven year old daughter held dear. Love in a paper sack. Love which he had thrown into a wastebasket because “there wasn’t anything I needed.”

After Molly went to bed, he father headed back to the office. He got there before the janitor did and managed to retrieve all her treasures from the wastebasket. The next morning, he asked her to tell him about everything in the sack. Each item had a story. By the time Molly had finished, her father could see why each piece was so important to her.

In the most unpretentious way we can imagine, the son of God was born in a stable 2000 years ago. Given what God can do, the birth of Jesus was as ordinary as the things in Molly’s sack. Does this event capture our attention only for a moment? Like Molly’s father, might we find the contents of God’s bag charming but “nothing I really need?” When the glitter of this Christmas becomes a distant memory, will we have swept aside that which is priceless to God to get on with the rest of our day’s work?

What excites us today may well be gone tomorrow, while that which is priceless to God will be around forever. No earthly delights can compare with God’s ordinary treasures. Our finest chocolates, choice wines, latest electronic gadgets and designer labels will be history someday but the treasures that God has for us, what we are celebrating in this Christmas moment is ours forever if we want it!

Isaiah tells us that people who walked in darkness have seen a great light and so we have in the person of Jesus Christ. Paul reminds Titus that Jesus appeared, training us to reject godless ways and earthly desires. Instead, we are to live temperately, justly and devoutly. These bits of wisdom may seem as common to us as thirteen pennies, but they are offered to us with much love for that is what God offers us this night/day.

In what may be his last Christmas message to us as our Archbishop, he wrote, “When the song of angels is stilled, when the star in the sky is gone, when the kings and priests are home, when the shepherds are back with their flocks…The work of Christmas begins…to find the lost, to heal the broken, to feed the hungry, to release the prisoner, to rebuild nations, to bring peace among peoples…to make music in the heart!”

May we treasure the presence of Christ in our lives not just on this day or in our memories of Christmas past, but every day to come. May we value his treasures among the “good stuff” so that our age old dream of peace on earth and good will toward all can become very real for all of us.

God bless you and may you have yourself a Christmas full of memories you will long treasure.
 

“It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. It was a season of light. It was a season of darkness.” Those eloquent lines, which Charles Dickens wrote to begin his classic, A Tale of Two Cities, could well describe how some of us feel right now. While the coming week will be joy-filled for many, for others the days ahead will be difficult ones to endure. The loss of a loved one through death or divorce could leave a person despairing too much to be touched by the joy that Christmas has to offer. Others who have grown distant from God through indifference or anger may also remain unmoved by the message that awaits us.

And what might that message be? Quite simply, I would say it is hope. Certainly, there is a spirit of hope in the air. We hope to get the last minute shopping done. We hope to get all the cards mailed in time.  We hope that the dinner won’t be burnt on Christmas day. We hope that all our guests will arrive safely and on time.  We hope that a spirit of peace will prevail.

Hope also captures the spirit of these readings. They are filled with the good news that even in the darkest moments, God does not forget his people. First we hear the words of the prophet, Micah, written 2800 years ago, “You, Bethlehem-Ephrata, too small to be among the clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel; whose origin is from of old, from ancient times.” Micah wrote during a time when Israel, occupied by foreign armies, yearned for a savior. He promises a new beginning with the coming of a great king who will shepherd Israel to peace. Better yet, “he shall be peace.”

In the gospel, Luke provides us with a tale of two women, whose faith offers us a message of hope. For those who listen to their message, Christmas can be the best of times, a season of light that dispels the darkness of our world. Elizabeth proclaims the fulfillment of Micah’s prophecy, “Who am I that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” Israel, barren for so long with no one to lead her, is now awaiting her messiah in the person of Mary’s son, Jesus.

Even the letter to the Hebrews provides us with a message of hope. Jesus tells us, “As is written of me in the scroll, behold, I come to do your will, O God.” He has come to establish a new covenant, sanctifying us by offering himself on the cross for us. At last, the hope of ancient Israel will be fulfilled in the person of Jesus Christ.

However chaotic our lives may be at times, however dark the season may seem, hope is there to keep us going. Our God hears us even in our bleakest moments.

On Christmas day, 1863, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, one of America’s best known poets, received word that his son had been seriously wounded in battle. Despondent, he penned these words, “In despair, I bowed my head; ‘There is no peace on earth,’ I said. For hate is strong and mocks the song of ‘peace on earth, good will to men.’”  As he wrote these words, bells sounded from a church nearby. For Longfellow, the bells rang a message of hope, the presence of something much stronger than the malaise that was gripping his soul.  Adding to what he had already scribbled, he wrote, “Then pealed the bells more loud and deep, ‘God is not dead, nor does He sleep. The wrong shall fail, the right prevail, with peace on earth, good will to men.”

Like the words of Micah and Luke, Longfellow’s lines are recalled by many each year at this time. His poem became the well-known carol, “I heard the bells on Christmas Day.”

I pray that our nation will never again experience a bloody war like the one that claimed the life of my great grandfather in 1864. Although we are not enmeshed in a civil war, we are at war, a sad reminder that peace remains elusive from war-torn Iraq to the West Bank and beyond.  With so much conflict in every corner of the world, our need for hope and peace still lingers.

If peace is what we are yearning for, what must we do? The German poet, Goethe, observed, “He is happiest, be he king or peasant, who finds peace in his home.”  We can begin our quest for peace by taking a look at ourselves and deciding what really matters. If we really want peace, then we must rid ourselves of what stands in the way. One Jewish source noted, “Five great enemies to peace inhabit with us, namely avarice, ambition, envy, anger and pride. If these enemies were to be banished, we should infallibly enjoy perpetual peace.” In so many words, Jesus has given us that same advice repeatedly.

The starting point for finding happiness and peace ultimately begins with us. Fr. John Powell comments, “I can’t change the world to suit me, but I can change my response to the world. I can change me. Happiness is an inside job.”

For countless generations, God has kept his promise to lead his people through good times and bad, in sickness and health. And God continues to do so today. Blessed are they, who, like Mary, trust that the Lord’s words would be fulfilled. For them, peace and justice become possible. For those who listen to the message of Mary, Elizabeth, and Micah, Christmas ought not to be the worst of times. It is meant to be the best of times, best in that it brings us a season of light that has the potential to forever dispel the darkness of our world.

Earlier this week, I inadvertently upset a friend by what I said. He responded by saying that he felt disrespected.  Our brief spat brought to mind another line from Micah. Peace will be ours when we strive to walk humbly, act justly, and love tenderly in the sight of God and one another.  For those who heed his advice, they could very well experience the best of times.

If every Catholic on south Whidbey joined us for Mass, I suspect every seat would be taken. For whatever reason, many are not here. That is unfortunate, since worship provides a great opportunity to grow in our relationship with Christ. I ran across a parody of the poem, The Night Before Christmas, which renders a fitting message for those who see little need for making time for Jesus in their busy lives.
 
Twas the night before Jesus 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 the late show while I took a nap.
When out of the east there arose 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, just 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 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 quite near.
There’s only one life and when the last name is called,
We’ll find that the Bible was true after all.

This poem provides a wake up call. So does John the Baptist. Every Advent, as we await the coming of Christ, we hear the same message, “Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his path. Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be made low. The winding roads shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth.”

Undoubtedly, you have a wish list of what you would like for Christmas; things you want to add to your worldly possessions. John is urging us to think of what we need to let go of that stand in the way between God and us. He wants us to fill our valleys and level our mountains, not literally with bulldozers but by attending to the details that foster our relationships with Jesus and others. The valleys he speaks of we created with kind words left unspoken, compassionate deeds left undone, bread not shared, prayers neglected, neighbors not welcomed, the poor overlooked, or the expressions of another person’s love that go ignored.

He challenges us to level our mountains of pride, arrogance, blind ambition, selfishness, domineering attitudes, any of which hinder us from experiencing and sharing God’s gift of love. John calls on us to smooth the rough ways of impatience, intolerance, anger, prejudice, racism, bigotry and favoritism that leaves anyone feeling excluded and unloved. Heeding his call to forgiveness and reconciliation could result in some of the best Christmas presents that you could ever give.

As we do our part to fill in our valleys, level our mountains, smooth the rough edges of our relationships, we can be mindful of those whom we know who are not here to pray with us. Allow them to experience the joy of Christmas by inviting them to join us for Mass on Christmas eve or morning. We have cards in the narthex for you to pass onto them.

Might they come? God only knows, but your personal invitation could make a difference. So could the example you set by choosing to act justly, walk humbly, and love tenderly. Through our example, to paraphrase Paul, may the love of every inactive Catholic increase even more in this advent season so that they can truly discern what is of value in life, thus be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, when their names and ours will be found in the book of life that he will be holding.