2010

Most greeting cards convey trite messages but once in awhile we receive gems that are never forgotten. When I graduated from the seminary 25 years ago, a close friend sent me a card of congratulations I will not forget. The front featured a monk busily writing on a long scroll. He pauses to comment, “Your graduation should be listed amongst the sacred events in the Bible.” Inside, the message continues, “…along with the other miracles!”

So true! For me, graduation was a miracle. After five years of study, I finally had my degree in hand, unlike many of my peers who had dropped out.  We tend to think of miracles as magical, unnatural acts; events beyond our wildest expectations. If my hearing was suddenly restored, that would be a miracle.

Imagine what the reaction would be if anyone today could turn water into wine. Undoubtedly, that would be a major news story that would catch the attention of many curious reporters who would ask, “How did you make this happen?”  I could picture those reporters also asking, “Can you change my worn out $10 bill into a newly printed $100 bill? Can you change my badly dented Ford into a brand new Lexus SUV?” Maybe an illusionist like David Copperfield could pull off such a stunt.

Bent on getting a sensational story, the typical reporter would be apt to miss the whole point of what a miracle is really about. Jesus used miracles to show everyone around him the fullest beauty and expression of God’s love.

John did not even call these events miracles. Through out his gospel, he records seven such incidents, calling them signs. These events were used to reveal Jesus’ true identity to his followers. They pointed to the hour in which Jesus’ divine glory would be revealed, namely his passion, resurrection and the eternal banquet.

The incident at Cana is a very fitting start to Jesus’ public ministry. Unlike other celebrations, a wedding feast denotes the start of new life and the anticipation of many life miracles for the groom and his bride.  Likewise, John provides us with this sign to convey that Jesus and his bride, the Church, have the potential, like any newlyweds do, to change the lives of many.

Miracles bring about change when and where we least expect. Years ago, I saw a movie entitled, A Soldier’s Story. The film was about a black captain in the army during WWII who was sent to a small Louisiana town to investigate the death of a black sergeant. Even though he was a lawyer, this captain, because of his race, encountered much skepticism from the white officers. In the end, he brought immense credibility to his mission of justice. In the closing scene, one white captain offers him a ride to his destination. While driving, he asked, “I guess I have to get used to black officers now?” The reply was predictable. “Guess you have to get used to black officers now.”

I consider the film to be a good example of a miracle because the story portrayed a miracle of accomplishment, a miracle of recognition, a miracle of respect and a miracle of admiration.  Miracles should not be seen only as events that defy the laws of nature but also as unexpected events that happened because someone believed that with God’s grace they could happen.

On Monday, we celebrate Martin Luther King Jr.’s legacy as a man who believed in miracles. In 1963, on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, he expressed his conviction in miracles when he said, “I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up, live out the true meaning of its creed; we hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal…I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will be not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today!”

Contrast the racial attitudes of today with the tensions this country experienced in the mid sixties when Dr. King shared his dream. Did anyone listening to him that day envision that an African-American child born in Hawaii would today be president of this country? Wouldn’t you consider the change in our racial attitudes to be a miracle? I do, even though we as a society still have a long ways to go before we can honestly claim to be living out fully the true meaning of our nation’s creed, namely that everyone from the unborn to the terminally ill is endowed with the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of hapness.

The miracles we witness occur because some people believe in themselves, their potential to make a difference, and the divine providence to move forward with their dream.  They recognize that the gifts given them by the Holy Spirit aren’t meant to be kept under wraps but are to be used for building up God’s kingdom.

Unfortunately, many do not believe in the power or reality of miracles. Thus, talents and gifts are ignored or overlooked because they are not seen as the origins of miracles. Age and wisdom are dismissed because they too are not seen as sources of miracles. The ability to alter, to adapt, to amend, to change is not taken seriously. When that becomes our personal creed, then miracles cease to exist for miracles cannot happen unless we dare to believe in them, in God, and in ourselves to create the new life for ourselves and others that only miracles can create.

The challenge posed by these readings is to become more sensitive to the many signs of God’s power and glory. Imagine how our world would change if each one of us took hold of even one of the many gifts we have been given by the Spirit and transformed our lives in the coming year, like water into good wine to be shared with others.  How miraculous that would be!

Jesus, the Ultimate Gift

The celebration of the solemnity of the Baptism of the Lord brings the Christmas season to its liturgical end. The deeply symbolic act of John the Baptist baptizing Jesus is one of the Biblical proofs for the sacrament of Baptism, which we share with Jesus. This act of the Baptism of the Lord is a fitting end for the Christmas season. Jesus’ entered into the world at Christmas, and His baptism at the earliest stages of his public life show us that not only did God show up on this earth, he beckoned us through Baptism to join Him in a new lifestyle. This lifestyle is one of loving God and loving others. It is the critical means of salvation for all of us.

But enough theology for one Mass. By now, as we know all too well, the Christmas season will be over for us in different ways, ways that we might indeed be glad are over.  Let us review the “can’t miss” rituals:

There was the joy of stringing lights and trying to get them to flash, leading to back pains, pulled muscles, and lights that devilishly flash when you hold them in your hand, and then refuse to when you put them on the tree;

There was the obsession over ornaments, how many, what kind, and how they hang from the tree, trying to balance their display on the tree only to have them fall off the tree when someone walks by;

As we go shopping, there was the joy of finding for a parking place, only to have someone else dive in front of you and snap it up, while you have to settle for a parking place a half a mile further away;

There was the joy of standing in a long line to be checked out after you have found that “perfect gift.”  As you get close to being able to pay for your purchases, the person in line in front of you is trying to buy something for which there is no mysteriously no price, leading to more delays as beleaguered clerks call for help that usually does not come.

There was the joy of holding a very fragile gift in your hand as someone’s unattended children about half your height dash right in front of you as you seek to get on an escalator.

And last but not least, as you leave the mall parking lot to go home, you discover three parking places very close to the stores you just left.

Brothers and sisters, while all this was going on, the ultimate perfect gift was  standing in front of us, there all along. No, it is not shopping on the Internet. It is the gift of Jesus Christ.

In our Gospel today, as John the Baptist was baptizing Jesus as well as others in the Jordan River, he reminds people that “one mightier than I is coming after me. I am not worthy to stoop and loosen the thongs of his sandals.”  It is hard to imagine truer words ever being spoken.

One of the greatest joys we have as Christians is the reality that our God loved us so much that He pierced the veil between heaven and earth so that he could be with us.  But Jesus as God and man did not come into our world because He was curious about us.   He came into the world to conquer sin and death.  He gave us everything we have. He showed us how to live. He showed us the means to follow his example and conquer sin and death ourselves.  He opened the gates of heaven, and blazed a trail for us so that we could get there, too.

Even when we fail, when we reject Him, He beckons us through prayer and the sacraments to get ever closer to Him.  And he forgives us, over and over again, desiring above all else that we be with Him.  He is with us always. He watches over his flock, as the prophet Isaiah says, feeding us and gathering us in His arms.

This brothers and sisters is the ultimate gift because, as St. Paul says in our second reading, it is so undeserved.  Despite our flaws, throughout history, Jesus has worked with people whose flaws were obvious to build up the communion of saints and the Body of Christ.

This patience with people, which I wish I had sometimes, is based on the Lord’s desire that none of us should perish but rather come to repentance.  Paul obviously understood this well. He, like many of the great saints, reject Jesus’ gift for many years of their lives.

How did Jesus respond to this rejection?  He forgave Paul. He went to extraordinary lengths, as He does for all of us,  to ask this very ordinary, flawed man to do extraordinary things in founding the Church and spreading the message of the Gospel life to all corners of the earth.  The rest, as we say, is history.

But Jesus’ undeserved gift is at work in our own time too. I share with you this morning a classic example of this. In 1923, a boy by the name of Joseph Whalen was born. He was the oldest of seven boys in a poor family that lived in the seafaring town of Quincy, Massachusetts. At the age of thirteen, Whalen was offered the chance by an uncle who was a bishop to enter study for the priesthood.  He said no without giving it much thought.  Like many of us, it was easy not to bother with the gift of Jesus Christ.

As he grew older, he began digging clams for a meager living. There he began to learn to drink with professional clam diggers.  It was a hard life. He began to drink more and more.  He also developed a two pack a day cigarette habit,  Camels straight up, with no filters. With his body still young and vigorous, he survived these habits and joined the Navy and eventually learned to be a pharmacist.  Often, he used his learning to make five-gallon jugs of instant gin out of ingredients for cough medicine. It was a clever way to serve his drinking habit and those of others.  The young man suffered blackouts, the “shakes,” and other classic symptoms of alcoholism.

After leaving the Navy, Whalen got married and had children in spite of his alcoholism.  He took on a high stress sales job, which only made his drinking worse.  His children were afraid to bring friends home.  His wife was constantly apologizing for him, as he staggered around and became increasingly obnoxious.  His marriage ended in bitter divorce, with all of his life savings swallowed up by a legal settlement.

But the Lord did not give up on Whalen. One day the man was introduced to a cloistered nun, who told him through her gift of knowledge from the Holy Spirit that he was going to become a priest. Whalen thought she had been wearing out more than just her Rosary beads.

And yet, she turned out to be correct.  When thinking about it further, tears streamed down Whelan’s face. Jesus’ amazing, one might say even stubborn, love reminded him of the offer he had been given more than thirty years earlier by his uncle.  Loaded down by guilt, anger, bitterness, and remorse, he was nonetheless rescued.  The nun’s friends recommended to him a recovering alcoholic priest.

For five years, this priest and others helped Whalen on a very difficult road to recovery filled with setbacks and eventual triumph.  Whalen finally accepted the freely given gift of the presence of Jesus in his life. He forgave himself and those who had hurt him over the years.  Through the prayers of many, he is a recovering alcoholic and he even kicked his smoking habit.

As his prayer life deepened, he began to have visions of God calling him again and again to the priesthood. He began to move toward God.  After receiving an annulment from the Church, Whalen was ordained a priest in 1989 at the ripe young age of 66. He had a flourishing ministry working with alcoholics.

Brothers and sisters, each day this week, as we stoop to undo the modern-day equivalent of our own sandal straps, let us think about the Baptism of the Lord, and our own Baptism. Let us think about the ultimate gift of Jesus.  We have a choice. We can chase after material gifts, with their fleeting joy and the tortured rituals that comes with getting them.  Or we accept the ultimate gift of Jesus: His joy, His peace, and the blessed assurance of eternal life. This is a gift that keeps on giving, not just during the Christmas season but always and forever.  Which gift will we choose?

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!”