Fr. Rick Spicer

Do you remember the comic strip, Calvin and Hobbes?  Calvin is an eight year old with a stuffed tiger named Hobbes. Hobbes comes to life whenever Calvin is alone with him. Hobbes is his conscience as well as his secret friend.  One strip presented the bane of Calvin’s existence, the most disliked person in his life, his neighbor eight year old Suzie, walking to the mailbox on a cold, snow-covered December day, carrying her letter to Santa Claus.  Out of the corner of her eye she sees Calvin, ready to hurl a big fat snowball right at her head.  “I see you, Calvin,” Suzie warns, “and you better not throw that snowball!  I’m mailing my letter to Santa right now.”

“Is the envelope sealed?” Calvin shouts back, the snowball in his mittened hand, set for launch. “Yes, but I can always write a PS on the back of it.” “Do you have a pen?” “As a matter of fact, I do,” Suzie replied. 

Calvin then sadly drops the snowball as the triumphant Suzie walks away.  “I bet she’s bluffing,” Calvin says to Hobbes, “but this isn’t the time of year to tempt fate.”

There is never a time to tempt fate. Essentially, that is what the Gospel for today is telling us. This passage is a difficult one to hear and understand. At a glance, one could be easily scared by what Jesus is saying but there really is no reason to be.  Jesus is using vivid language familiar to the people of his time to make the point that we must always be ready to face God.

Simply put, God gives us this lifetime to discover him and come to know him through the love of others and the goodness of this world. Every day of our lives, when you stop to think about it, is an advent of expectation, preparation and hope as we await the coming of Christ. This is not a time to tempt fate for we never know when we will encounter him, be it at the hour of our death or at his second coming.

The day will come, sooner than we expect, when we must stand before the Son of Man. There will be no second chance. When we exhale our last breath, our lives will be over. We won’t be able to go back in time and correct our mistakes or apologize for our sins. Instead, we will find ourselves standing before Jesus, the same Jesus who offers himself to us in the Eucharist.

Perhaps, contrary to our imaginations, Jesus won’t have a big record book or be holding scales of justice.  Most likely, he won’t have to say much for he knows us intimately. What could we possibly say that he doesn’t already know? Will he be able to read in our hearts that we did the best we could, living our faith and heeding his words of wisdom? Will he see that we heeded Paul’s advice and grew in love? If so, he will welcome us into his eternal love, that place we call heaven.

On the other hand, if he reads in our hearts that basically we did not want to deal with him and his demands, that for whatever reason we opted to keep distant from him, then he will judge that just as we refused the fire of his love in this world, we do not care to warmed by the fire of his love in the next.

The Church begins a new liturgical year with the season of Advent, a time for us to prepare for what really matters in life.  For most of us, December is one month we find ourselves doing much preparation. The frantic shopping that began for many on Black Friday, mailing out packages and cards, putting up the tree and lights, cooking and feasting will keep us busy but for the most part, all those acts come to an end when we retire for the night on Christmas. What really matters is our preparation for the Lord, not the infant whose birth we celebrate on Christmas, but the Lord whom we will meet face to face at the end of our lives or the end of the world, whichever comes first.

Luke provides sound advice on how best to wait for the coming of Christ into our lives. Instead of waiting passively and doing nothing to deepen our relationship with him, we are cautioned, “Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy from carousing and drunkenness and the anxieties of daily life…Pray that you have the strength to stand before the Son of Man.”

We are not being called to a doomsday mindset of hopelessness but rather we are called to be hope-filled witnesses to the very presence of God in our lives. After all, such a belief determines how we live each day. By living our faith in the manner Jesus prescribes, people can see that following him does make a difference.

Being vigilant gives us the upper hand to resisting temptations that can unexpectedly surface, temptations that can lead us to do things we could later regret. Being vigilant requires being spiritually fit and that comes through prayer. No matter how busy you may be, spend time each day in prayer, contemplating how you can be a better witness of your faith to others.

Quite possibly, what you say and do could make a difference in bringing someone back to the faith. Many Catholics tempt their fate by placing Christ on the back burner of their lives. Maybe an invitation from you is what they need to join others who will be coming home to Christ and renewing their faith.

We should regard every day of advent as an adventure filled with hope, expectation and preparation. Not a time to tempt fate, thinking that we will always have tomorrow to get our act together, but a reminder that today may provide the best and possibly last opportunity we have to seek God by loving tenderly, walking humbly, and acting justly.   As Paul points out, doing what we can to “be blameless in holiness before our God.”

If we live in preparation for the coming of Christ in this way, we can look forward, not only to a merry Christmas, but also to a merry eternity.
 

This weekend we come to the close of the church year, so to quote the man who wrote Alice in Wonderland, “The time has come to talk of many things: of shoes, and ships, and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings, and why the sea is boiling hot and whether pigs have wings.”  Living here on an island, we could talk about shoes and ships any day. As for sealing wax, have you ever sent or received a letter sealed with wax? I suspect that cabbages aren’t your favorite vegetable so we can skip that. I do not know if the sea is boiling hot or not someplace in the world or ever will be. Despite all that science can do, I doubt we will ever see a pig with wings, certainly not at the county fair.

We need not talk about those things, but I would agree with Mr. Carroll that the time has come for us to talk of kings, namely Christ the King.  As Christians, we confess that Christ is our king but what comes to mind when you think of kings? Someone who has absolute authority? Someone who walks around wearing a crown of gold or riding around in a coach? Or do you think of kings as rulers of a bygone era?

Oddly enough, we do not encounter Jesus in a very majestic setting in today’s gospel. John presents a very strange image of a king, if you ask me.  Standing before Pilate, Jesus explains to him, “My kingdom does not belong to this world. If my kingdom did belong to this world, my attendants would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not here.” What he says makes sense to me. If Jesus intended to set up an earthly kingdom, his many disciples would have been fighting tooth and nail to protect him with the hope that they would overcome the Romans and restore Judea as the mighty kingdom it once was.  But Jesus didn’t come to liberate the Jews from the Romans. Instead, he came to liberate all humanity from the tyranny of sin.

He told Pilate, “My kingdom does not belong to this world.” In other words, his kingdom is not an earthly kingdom with powers that we would associate with an earthly king.  Since his kingdom is not a political entity with boundaries or armies to protect his subjects, we could then presume that Jesus is alluding to his kingdom as being out of this world, namely heaven, the place which he offers us, his subjects, as a home for all eternity.

To limit our perception of Jesus’ kingdom to a purely future reality, however, is to miss the point of this gospel. His kingdom is already here and now.  Recall the last words Jesus said to Pilate. “Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” This king does not reign in the manner that earthly kings do. His mighty power is not one of force, but of truth and love.

It is easy to say that we believe in God. Most people do, but that is as far as they go when defining the role of God in their lives or their relationship with Christ. Many people profess a belief in God but they choose not to make God the center of their lives. They are not drawn to listen to the voice of Christ the King.  Those who are drawn to the truth do listen to Jesus Christ. He reigns in their hearts. He can count on them to build his kingdom here and now because they listen to what he has to say.

Being a subject of Christ the King is purely voluntary. The choice is up to us.  Being committed to him prompts us to enter into an intimate friendship with him through prayer and worship. We come to see that Jesus is a very different king than the countless others who have ruled earthly kingdoms in the past and that his kingdom can be described as being “other worldly.”

Unfortunately, a fair number of believers fail to see that side of Jesus. For them, their relationship with this king is nothing more than a bunch of rules to be obeyed if they want to avoid eternity in hell. They spend this lifetime ignoring him instead of honestly listening to his voice.  In effect, they rebel against what he has to say. They have what James Fowler, a professor of theology, defines as an adolescent faith.  Like the teenager who questions and challenges appropriate authority, so do we while learning about our faith.

Ideally, though, we seek to understand what being a Christian is about. We come to appreciate the many lessons, such as the beatitudes, which this king has provided and apply them to our daily lives. We see the wisdom of following his example and teachings.  In turn, we are motivated to deepen our relationship with Christ even more and this is done by prayer, worship, service to others and study.  Choosing to become an intimate friend with Christ moves us from adolescent faith to adult faith. We listen to his voice because the truth beckons us to.

Looking back over the past year, how would you rate your allegiance to this king? Did you see yourself growing closer to him, seeing the wisdom of his ways? Or did you remain distant, doing the bare minimum, presuming that your bases are covered so that heaven will be your destiny?

To celebrate Christ as our king is to recognize that the kingdom of God can be ours in this lifetime as well as the next. By putting into practice the lessons he has provided, we can experience a quality of living that is certainly not of this world. Ultimately, Jesus is challenging us, his subjects to live our faith authentically with justice and compassion, understanding and generosity. In doing so, we can make his reign evident to others in our world.

I suggest that we think of Jesus as the king of hearts. Recognize him as the one to whom you ultimately pledge yourself for all eternity. After all, he draws us into himself with nothing less than unconditional love. Can any other king make such a claim?
 

The cold and wet weather of fall brings to mind a newlywed couple who found themselves stranded on a remote country road. Unable to go any further, they left their car and set out on foot toward a dimly lit farmhouse. An elderly couple met them at the door with a kerosene lamp. Explaining their predicament, the young man asked, “Could you put us up for the night? Any place on the floor or the couch would be just fine with us.”

As he was speaking, a few grains of rice slipped from the young lady’s hair and fell to the floor. The elderly couple looked at each other and said, “By all means, you can have the guest room. Get your things from the car while we freshen it up a bit for you.”

The next morning the newlyweds got up early, not wishing to disturb the old couple. They dressed quietly, put a ten dollar bill on the dresser, ventured into the living room and found the wife on the couch and her husband in his easy chair sound asleep. They had given the newlyweds their only bedroom.

For me, that story is a modern illustration of the beautiful story of the widow in today’s gospel. Like her, the elderly couple gave not from their surplus but from their meager resources. Both this couple and the widow gave generously and joyfully.

The two stories invite us to ask ourselves how we give. It has been said that there are three kinds of givers. Grudge givers who say, “I hate to give.” Duty givers who say, “I ought to give.” And thanks givers who say, “I want to give.”  So, which one are you? Do you give grudgingly? Do you give dutifully? Or do you give because you want to?

Some of you may be moaning, “There goes Father again, talking about money.” Actually, I am talking about more than that. I am talking about stewardship, which to me demonstrates how we can ideally relate to God. Once you personally choose to become a disciple of Jesus Christ, stewardship is not an option; it is the way of life for those who follow Christ for the sake of experiencing the kingdom of God.

Stewardship is about giving of ourselves, that is, our treasure, time and talent for the sake of building up the kingdom of God. For example, how do we give of our time to God in Sunday worship and daily prayer? How do we give of ourselves and our time to the members of our family? How do we give of ourselves and time to our neighbor? How do we give of ourselves and time to our parish?

Do we give grudgingly because we have to, because if we don’t, we will be criticized or penalized in some way? Do we give dutifully out of some sense of obligation? Would we rather not give but feel obligated to do so? Or do we give thankfully, because we want to? We give generously as the widows did.

If our giving is less than it should be, less than that of the widow or the elderly couple, than I would say Jesus is speaking to you in a special way, directly and personally in today’s gospel, prodding you to experience a new approach to giving.

I don’t know who Richard Braunstein is, but he said something that makes perfect sense here, especially if we see ourselves as a grudging giver. “It is possible to give without loving, but it is impossible to love without giving.”

Statistics show that few Catholics truly tithe. I read somewhere that over time the average Catholic continues to gives the same amount while the average Protestant gives the same percent of their income. Does that ring true for you? I suspect what lies beneath our reluctance to share thankfully rather than dutifully is fear and distrust. Fear that if we let go, there won’t be enough left for us. We don’t trust that God really will provide for our needs. We think that if we tithe, we won’t be able to pay our bills or if we give up several hours each week to do volunteer work, we won’t have enough time to take care of our families.

Both widows made what could be called a leap of faith, giving from their substance, unlike the scribes who gave from their surplus. They ultimately trusted in God when the facts suggested that their faith would be in vain. The first one used up the last of her flour and oil to bake a cake for Elijah, the other widow gave her last two coins to the treasury, walking away empty-handed. Neither gift was much but yet they were generous because they were sacrificial. Their stories testify to the belief that God can and does bring much out of little, but so long as we give with the grudging attitude of Scrooge, we deny God the chance to demonstrate that to us personally. When we put our money where our heart is, we will see the value of stewardship.

The radical message of today’s readings and of stewardship is that we must place our confidence in God rather than in our material possessions. That isn’t easy for many of us to do simply because we lack humility. We like being in control. Only a humble person recognizes his or her need for God. A humble person is certain that the presence of God is fundamental to one’s happiness.

Stewardship is an opportunity to share your gifts of treasure, time and talent with God. Like marriage or parenthood, this is a joyful expression of the love we have been given by God and that we loving return to God. Simply put, through stewardship, we give back to God a portion of the gifts we have received. Stewardship is not a one time collection though; it must be planned and lived out, which is why you received three cards in the mail and it must be sacrificial.  It is living out our commitment to be Christ-centered instead of self-centered.
 

There is a new movie out, entitled Julie and Julia, about two women with very different backgrounds: Julia Child who changed America’s attitude toward food with her cookbook on French cuisine and Julie Powell, a young blogger who chronicled her yearlong adventure cooking all 500 of Julia Child’s recipes.

Early in the film, there is a heartbreaking moment involving Julie. A would-be writer, she works in a cubicle for the city of New York, answering calls regarding insurance claims for the victims of 9/11.  At lunch with her college friends, she is humiliated to hear of their real estate deals and lucrative writing gigs. Hers is a thankless job of trying to connect thousands of desperate callers with the right bureaucracy.

One caller, who has grown tired of being shuffled back and forth among different offices, asks Julie, “Are you the person to speak to about my insurance form?” She replied, “You can speak to me.”  “Do you have any power?” he asked.  The question catches Julie off guard.  “No,” she stammers. That was an eye opening moment for Julie. What are her education and skills, her passions and life amounting to? Left fumbling her pencil as the caller hangs up, she confronts her powerlessness.

The world is a very different place today because many people have had similar epiphanies, confronting their powerlessness and doing something about it. All they needed was to realize their power to start. At one point in the movie, Julie’s husband tells her, “Remember, Julia Child wasn’t always Julia Child.”

In today’s gospel, we encounter James and John in a similar epiphany, each asking Jesus, “Grant that in your glory we may sit one at your right and the other at your left.”  They had just heard Jesus tell the disciples for the third time that he would be put to death, then rise on the third day.  However plainly he had said this, the disciples still did not get the message. The notion of rising again may have prompted the sons of Zebedee instead to believe that a new reign was about to emerge, hence they sought the power and the glory, not realizing that the power they would need for building the kingdom of God was quite different.

Instead of granting the favor they asked of him, Jesus again provides a lesson on how to imitate him. He cannot promise them that they will share in his glory but he assures them that they will share the pain that comes with being one of his disciples. “The cup that I drink, you will drink.”

That same cup which Jesus offered to the sons of Zebedee is offered to us as well.  Jesus calls us to do the disciple’s work of accomplishing great things ourselves. The power linked with being a disciple is not found in the power we define in earthly terms, but in the example of Christ himself. The heart of our Christian lives is to serve, to suffer, and to die. That certainly is not a rosy picture yet that is the lesson Jesus often delivers.

Many Christians leave the church when their faith journey gets too uncomfortable for them. They get angry at God, the pope, the archbishop, their pastor or at other believers. They miss the point of what being a follower of Jesus entails, forgetting that a bed of roses comes with thorns. Others get angry but they stay, knowing that running away is not the solution. Through prayer and spiritual growth they come to understand that Jesus never said that following him would be easy or serene.

I can picture Jesus saying to the apostles, “Gentlemen, if what is motivating you to follow me is the dream of earthly power, then think again. Let me warn you that if greatness is what you seek, then anyone among you who aspires for greatness must serve the rest.”  Discipleship isn’t about raw power; it’s about service and service is about respect for others.

This gospel leaves me wondering, “What motivates us to follow Jesus?”  I presume your motivation is to experience the kingdom of God, which is, believe it or not, something we can do in this lifetime simply by following the example of Christ by serving others.

Ultimately, the apostles were motivated by what they believed despite the risk. The values that governed their lives are the values they passed on to us in the gospels and the epistles. They have provided us with the blueprint for realizing the kingdom of God in our midst.

However we judge the quality of our faith to be, Jesus invites us to continually deepen our relationship with him through prayer and service to others. True faith enables us to put aside our doubts and fears, to get beyond our sense of inadequacy, vulnerability, and “unsaintliness,” and do the work of God, each in our own way. Jesus promises his grace to take on the authority of Christ-like service and embrace the power of compassion. All we need is to realize our own “power” to start.

How fitting that we hear these readings on World Mission Sunday for they invite us to see that we too are called to be missionaries. God is confident that we can make a difference, as many missionaries have done, in building up the kingdom.

One beloved missionary, Mother Teresa of Calcutta, offers good advice for those who feel powerless in doing their share. “We can’t do the big things, you and I.” she said, “We’re not capable of them. But do the little things faithfully.” And what might they be? Be committed to the little things, the smile smiled, the courtesy rendered, the meal prepared, the handshake offered, the birthday remembered, the flowers sent, the compliment given. In a nutshell, respect and reverence all life.  That is something we are all given the power to do by the grace of God.
 

Despite what Jesus said, that people must not separate what God has joined together, many spouses have gone their separate ways for any number of reasons. Nearly half of the first marriages in this country end in divorce, either because the marital bond was severed or was never forged. Perhaps that is why many couples avoid marriage altogether and simply live together. I estimate that more than half the couples whose marriages I have witnessed were living together beforehand even though I caution them that a trial run is no assurance of a lasting marriage.

My younger sister, Linda, married her college sweetheart in 1973. When she and Art celebrated their 25th anniversary, she downplayed the significance of that milestone.  I commended her, citing the fact that divorce is all too common.  In today’s throw-away society, commitment is not so highly valued, which may be why many see divorce as an easy option out of a difficult situation.

In biblical times, marriages were usually arranged, a common practice until modern times in many societies. Understandably, not all marriages then and now succeeded in the manner that God had in mind when we are told, “the two of them become one flesh.”  Adam perceived his relationship with Eve as being interdependent. Alas, that has not always been the case. In some marriages one spouse has dominated the relationship, thus diminishing the dignity of the other spouse.  God did not intend for abuse of any kind to enter the scene.

When a couple stands before me to exchange their vows, I have them repeat the words. I tell them that these are the most important words that they will ever say to one another.  “I take you for my lawful spouse, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.”   Anything and everything could happen from that point onward, but the two of them have just told me that they will cling to each other regardless of what happens. These words speak eloquently of the bond God has in mind when a couple fully commit themselves to one another in this awesome sacrament, which they promise to minister to one another all the days of their lives.

Unfortunately, not every spouse enters into marriage with the intent or the capacity to carry out the vows that are said.  Many a marriage exists wherein one spouse is doing little or nothing to create or sustain the relationship so that the two can become one flesh. Despite the efforts of the other spouse, there really isn’t a marriage unless both actively seek to nurture their bond. They may live under the same roof but missing is the intimacy, the companionship, the affirmation, and the love that enables a marriage to thrive.

When one spouse chooses to be self-centered, a sacramental marriage cannot exist.  Focused on oneself, that spouse is unable or unwilling to reach out to the other spouse. Recall the imagery of the body used in these readings. “Bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh,” Adam said as he described his bride. Think of how interwoven the parts of the body are. Without all its parts, the body is limited in its fullest potential. Without certain parts, the body even ceases to live. The same is true for any relationship, as well as a viable, sacramental marriage.

Not all of us are married, but we are all engaged in relationships, hence the message of the gospel applies to all of us. Healthy relationships are what keep us alive.  According to an ancient Islamic tale, when God created the world, the earth was as smooth and even as a fine plate. The devil was jealous of the beautiful earth God created so while the earth was still damp and soft, he scratched the face of the earth with his claws as deeply as he could. The devil’s scars created deep rivers and ravines that divided one place from another, keeping people apart, preventing them from traveling on the earth God had given them as a garden for their food and support.

Saddened by what the evil one had done, God sent angels into the world to make things work as God had hoped. The angels saw how people, unable to pass over ravines, could only look on in vain at one another.  To enable them to cross from one side to the other, they spread their wings across the ravines. God’s people learned from the angels how to build bridges across the ravines created by the evil one. To this day, the greatest blessing is to build a bridge and the greatest sin is to interfere.

Like the angels in this tale, we are called upon to be bridge builders. We are called to bridge the chasms of mistrust and envy with trust and compassion, to heal the wounds that divide spouses, families, and communities with understanding, generosity, and forgiveness.

Forgiveness, a necessary tool for building bridges in our lives, really costs us nothing.  If we are to build bridges, we need to forgive and to seek forgiveness. If we were more willing to forgive, our relationships would survive the test of time.

That Islamic tale offers us good wisdom. Unfortunately, we don’t always strive to build bridges. Instead, we create turmoil and conflict that leads to broken hearts, which leads to broken homes and broken lives. That certainly isn’t what God had in mind when Adam met Eve.

A good marriage isn’t so much about finding the right partner as being the right person, knowing that little things do matter, like speaking words of appreciation and demonstrating gratitude in thoughtful ways. Like any relationship that is to thrive, marriage is about building bridges every day of our lives.