2021

Perhaps your fridge is stuffed with Thanksgiving leftovers and your home is decorated with signs of Christmas, but the readings made no mention of either holiday. Instead, they carried on the message we heard in recent weeks: “The days are coming says the Lord when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and Judah.”  Years later that promise was fulfilled in Jesus who now cautions us, “Be vigilant at all times and pray that you have the strength to escape the tribulations that are imminent and to stand before the Son of Man.”

This week begins a new season. The green of ordinary time has been replaced by the purple of Advent, a time for us to prepare for the coming of the Lord; not just his birth, for that is history, but also his return.  Maybe we will be among the witnesses that will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory.

In the earliest days of the Church, many hoped to witness such a majestic sight. Paul anticipated that resplendent coming, so he urged his followers to conduct themselves in a manner pleasing to God, abounding in love for one another. Here we are 21 centuries later and Jesus’ return has yet to happen. Dare we become drowsy from carousing and drunkenness or the anxieties of daily life? Not at all. Think of Jesus as the teacher who has left the classroom expecting us to do our tasks in his absence. Now is the time for us to be alert and ready for we don’t know when Jesus, our teacher, will return.

At the start of this century, Neil deGrasse Tyson, a well known astrophysicist, wrote, “If the events that span the 15 billion year timeline of the universe were laid along the length of a football field, then all of human history would span the thickness of a blade of grass in the end zone.”

God has certainly been around awhile! Being infinite, God is timeless and thus may be in no hurry to return in the manner foretold by Jesus in the gospel. Yet, both Paul and Luke urged Christians to live with an eye toward the future.  While we likely will not see the end of time so graphically described in scripture we will someday all take our last breath.

Just as the clock runs out during a football game, our earthly life will someday end and our time will be up to heed the Gospel message of Jesus that we have been listening to all along. There will be no overtime, no second chances. Our lives will be transformed. Until then, we are urged to heed the advice we just heard, “Be vigilant…and pray” so that when we find ourselves standing before the Lord, he will tell us, “…stand erect and raise your heads because your redemption is at hand.”

How breathtaking that moment will be. The Jesus we received often in the Eucharist. The Jesus we professed to believe whenever we said the creed. The Jesus we called upon countless times amidst the anxieties of daily living. The Jesus sent by his Father to extend mercy and forgiveness. The Jesus who will say, “welcome to your eternal home.”

Until that moment comes, may our constant prayer amid the many tribulations we deal with daily be like what we heard moments ago, “To you O Lord, I lift my soul.” That promise reflects our commitment to God in gratitude for all that we have been blessed with.  In this season, are we willing to engage more time with God in prayer and worship?

When the pandemic disrupted our lives, we were dispensed from the obligation to attend Sunday Mass to safeguard our health. As society became more lax about social distancing, we now see stadiums filled with fans. Now is the time to fill our churches. The Archbishop is urging us to do just that as we prepare for Christmas. Beginning on Dec. 8, the feast of the Immaculate Conception, we are again being obligated to attend Mass just as we were before the pandemic.

The Mass is our primary mode of prayer as Catholics, coming together to hear God’s word and to partake of the Eucharist, an opportunity for the Lord to make us abound in love. Prayer prompts us to act in ways that are pleasing to God. Be vigilant, Jesus tells us, with acts of love, justice and compassion.

Advent is a season of waiting and hope. We hope for a better world. We hope for an end to the pandemic. We hope for an end to hunger, civil unrest, hostilities, and injustice, but for that to happen, we must fuel ourselves with God’s grace to make a difference. Hope leads us to see that everything in our lives can make a difference because God created us to make a difference in bringing about his kingdom. God loves us deeply and hopefully that divine love motivates us to go forth and make a difference by making this world a better place before our time is up.

Nearly every crucifix includes the inscription, INRI, Jesus of Nazareth, king of the Jews. When Pilate asked, “Are you king of the Jews?” Jesus did not deny the accusation. Little did Pilate realize that Jesus of Nazareth is a king, but not by worldly standards.

For much of recorded history, kings, queens or emperors governed most countries. By instituting this feast nearly a century ago, Pope Pius XI was addressing many injustices that had risen in Europe following the First World War. Its lesson then is just as relevant today.

This feast celebrates Jesus ruling over all creation from his heavenly throne, offering eternal life to those who listen. Notice in his dialogue with Pilate, Jesus shifts the focus away from himself as king to speaking instead about his kingdom. “My kingdom does not belong to this world.”

Since his kingdom does not belong to this world, it bears no resemblance to historical kingdoms. When we pray, “thy kingdom come,” we aren’t expecting any new worldly form of governance. What then are we asking for? “Thy kingdom come” is a plea for God to transform our world into his kingdom. That would mean an end to injustice, hatred, greed, materialism, hostility, and violence of any kind.

What matters in God’s kingdom is our union with God. For that to happen, the values of our world must be scrapped. Gone would be the self-centeredness that leads us to sin, racism, murder, abortion, genocide, greed and abuse of any kind. In its place, there would be the spirit of caring for others and giving to those who have less. People would be good, civil, and kind to one another. For God’s kingdom to come, justice and charity must prevail. We must love one another the way God loves us.

Praying for the coming of God’s kingdom means letting go of worldly values that conflict with the gospel of Jesus Christ. Doing so places us in union with God and brings peace to our world. There is no place in God’s kingdom for prejudice of any kind for in this kingdom, love prevails.

Would we be content to have less so that others can have more? Would we welcome migrants from Central America seeking a better life? Would we be color blind to those of a different race? Would we agree that all lives matter including blacks, the unborn, the terminally ill, inmates on death row, and those of a different faith? Would we welcome anyone to our neighborhood regardless of their orientation or ethnicity? Fr. Pedro Arrupe, who served as superior general of the Jesuits, observed, “Love of God, which does not issue in justice for others is a farce.”

The kingdom of God comes with a price not every Christian is willing to pay. I think back to those who protested angrily when we mounted crosses in memory of the victims of racial prejudice or when I urged us to carry on the works of Christmas in response to the capitol uprising. I later listened to some who heatedly objected and then left the parish, unwilling to see that every social justice issue is an endeavor to bring about God’s kingdom.

Listening to them, I wondered, “Is Christ your king or have you chosen someone else?” That is a question we all must answer. If he is your king, what have you done to bring about his kingdom? Are you willing to resist hatred, bigotry and prejudice? Do you look for ways to help the less fortunate? This feast challenges us to live in such a way that others can say, “He or she is certainly a Christian. I can see God in that person.”

This feast provides a timely opportunity for us to review the quality of our commitment to Jesus Christ. By the way we live, we declare where our loyalties lie. Down through the centuries his followers have imitated his example. If we take his call seriously, Christ will be there to meet us in the end.

Unlike Pilate, we know who Christ the king is. I pray that my critics also now know who he is and see him as their king too. We who seek his kingdom want an end to this era. We want an end to starvation. We want an end to all epidemics. We want an end to gun violence. We want an end to cruelty and injustice. We want an end to the horrors that dominate the headlines and so we pray, “thy kingdom come.” When we carry out his command to love God and one another, we help to bring about God’s kingdom on earth as it is in heaven

Today’s readings are full of gloom and doom.  Daniel talks about a time of unsurpassed stress where some who die shall be in “everlasting horror and disgrace.”  Sounds like he is describing hell. In the Gospel Mark presents the end of time as being the day of tribulations, when the earth will shake and even the stars will fall out of the sky.  These readings sound rather scary. 

But are they?  Daniel predicts that many will live forever. This is the earliest mention of resurrection found in the Bible. The wise will shine brightly and those who lead the many to justice will be like the stars forever.  In the gospel, Jesus tells us the elect will be gathered from the end of the earth to the end of the sky. That sounds like heaven, doesn’t it?

These selections from Daniel and Mark are written in the literary genre called apocalyptic writing, which uses poetry and prose to engage our imagination and emotions, jolting us into recognizing the horrors of sin and the devastation that sin causes.  

The early Christians did not look at the Second Coming and end of time with terror.  Instead they believed the Lord would soon return to correct the injustices of the world. Christians were being persecuted and put to death in horrible ways. The Romans had no respect for anyone other than their own and killed men, women and children viciously and randomly. This is not what God created the world to be.  The world was suffering from sin.  Therefore, Christians prayed, “Come, Lord Jesus, come and recreate the world into your image.”

The world has not changed all that much since then.  Even in our country, the land of the free, good people are still persecuted because of their ethnicity, race or faith.  Others hold to their worldly convictions, choosing instead to ignore the gospel message to be loving, compassionate, and just.

And yet, the world is changing.  There is hope that war will not have the last word.  There is hope that starvation will become a bad memory.  There is hope that racism and sexism will not in the end dance a jig together. There is hope that oppression will not have a lasting foothold over the vulnerable.  There is hope that those who do evil will not prevail. There is hope that every life will be valued.

Evil is not part of God’s plan but is a byproduct of our free will and a consequence of choices we sometimes make. The visions we heard today rely on us taking an active role in the conquest of evil.  We are assured that if we take up the battle against evil, good will prevail and we will join in the triumph of God’s forces.  Daily we must strive to make the quality of life more humane and more Christian.

After that tribulation, Jesus said, “Then they will see the Son of Man coming in the clouds with great power and glory.” That Good News inspired many Christians to live daringly, holding fast to their traditions despite the allure of the secular world.  In the end, goodness triumph will prevail as the Lord gathers his own to himself.

Believing in the Lord and hoping in this promise, we turn our attention to the work at hand: preaching the Gospel through our words and deeds, striving to bring the light of Christ to others.  Even when we feel rejected by people whom we love, we proclaim the Gospel for we believe that Christ is coming.  We do not know when but we know that He, the Lord of Light, is coming and so we continue to pray as He taught us, “Thy Kingdom Come.”

Then we add, “thy will be done.” While to others who find themselves in the misery described by Daniel, God will say, “Thy will be done.”

A relevant question for us to ponder would be, “How committed to God’s will are we?” If we are committed to the Lord, we have no reason to fear the end of time, nor even the moment of our death.  

Every day we pray for the strength to remain committed to God no matter what temptations or crisis we face.  We do this every time we say the Lord’s Prayer, which ends with: “And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil.” What we are saying is, “Lord, protect us from the evil that can destroy us.  Help us to be holy, to spend eternity with you and not be in everlasting disgrace.”

If we follow the Lord’s will, we need not fear the end of time nor the end of our own time, death.  What we should fear is giving in to the world and rejecting God’s blueprint for living.  Now that’s scary. 

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 twenty dollars 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 widows in today’s readings. Like them, the elderly couple gave from their meager resources. The couple and the widows gave generously, joyfully and quietly. 

The readings invite us to ponder how we give. It has been said that there are three kinds of givers. Those who say, “I hate to give.” Those who say, “I ought to give.” And those who say, “I want to give.”  So, which are you? Do you give reluctantly? Do you give dutifully? Or do you give gladly?

You might be moaning, “There goes Father again, talking about money.” Actually, I am talking about more than that. I am talking about stewardship, which reflects how we 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. Our basic sense of who we are and what we are about in this world ought to be shaped by this mission.

Stewardship is about giving of ourselves, that is, our treasure, time and talent for the sake of building up the kingdom of God. How readily do you give of your time to God in worship and daily prayer? How willingly do you give of your time to family, friends, those in need and your parish? Just as he noticed the widow’s generosity, Jesus notices our generosity.

If your giving is less than it should be, less than that of the widow or the elderly couple, than perhaps Jesus is prodding you to experience a new approach to giving.  The readings should inspire us to think and act. They should encourage us to assist those in need and approach giving of our time and resources with a spirit of openness. Years ago, I read, “It is possible to give without loving, but it is impossible to love without giving.”

I also read that 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 is the fear that if we let go, there won’t be enough left for us. Like the widow in our first reading, we question that God will provide for our needs.

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. 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. 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 are encouraged to place our confidence in God rather than in our material possessions. Everything we do should be informed by a basic sense of who our God is and how God is involved in our lives.

Stewardship is an opportunity to share our gifts of treasure, time and talent with God and our faith community. Stewardship is what we do after saying, “I believe.” Like marriage or parenting, stewardship is a joyful expression of the love we have been given by God and that we lovingly return to God. With our stewardship pledge, we give back to God a portion of the gifts we have received. Stewardship is living out our commitment to be Christ-centered instead of self-centered, following the example of the widows and placing our trust in God to care for us always.

The scribe asked Jesus a simple yet profound question. “Which is the first of all the commandments?” With more than 600 commandments to choose from, you would think that there could be more than one right answer, but the one Jesus gave left a lasting impression on the scribe and Jesus’ followers ever since.

Jesus didn’t select any of the Commandments as we might expect. Instead he chose an ancient prayer. “Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is Lord alone! You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength. The second is this: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. There is no other commandment greater than these.” God makes no greater demand of us than to love.

What Jesus said was the Shema, the same prayer we heard in the first reading from Deuteronomy. This prayer, recited twice daily by devout Jews, is the central tenet of their faith. Its name comes from the Hebrew for “listen.”

We can picture Jesus saying to us, “Listen! Open your ears!” Yes, listen. That one word says plenty. For when you stop to think about it’s meaning, listen means more than simply hearing what someone is saying. Listen means paying attention to what is being said. That one word, listen, sums up love for God, love for others, and love for self. One cannot love unless one listens.

If you never thought of listening as a synonym for love, then consider your everyday experiences. Isn’t the person who truly loves you the one who listens to you? Conversely, How do you feel when you go to someone you trust, someone you believe loves you to share a deep concern, only to be told, “I don’t have time to listen; I’m too busy.”

Even if they did listen, you sense that the person’s attention is elsewhere. Deep down, you feel shunned, unloved, and your views are rejected. Each of us reacts differently in moments like these. I admit that I do not always stay calm when I feel that I am being ignored. Now, imagine how God feels when we choose not to listen to him, for example, when we won’t listen to a scripture passage or a homily.

Listening takes much energy and few things in life can be more frustrating than when someone doesn’t listen. Listening is a gauge of how readily we love and are loved.

In response to the scribe’s question, Jesus essentially replied, “Listen to God. Listen to your neighbor. No commandment is greater than this: listen.

Jesus joins the Shema with an injunction from the book of Leviticus to love one’s neighbor. Why? To love God without loving others is a sham.

Too often we limit our perception of love to how we feel toward someone. But in his letter to the Corinthians, Paul expands the meaning of love. “Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong but delights in the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.”

You don’t need much imagination to know and feel this is true. If we love God, then we will listen to God. If we listen to God, then we will value the wisdom of what is being asked of us. If we listen to God, we can see the wisdom to share what we have. Pope Francis pointed out in “Laudato Si’,” every “little gesture of love” becomes an antidote to acts of violence, abuse and indifference. Through such gestures the church is called to build a “civilization of love.”

Have you ever noticed that the letters that spell listen also spell silent? Be silent and listen; give God and your neighbor the chance to speak to you instead of reacting. That takes humility yet doing so is often a profound gesture of love. When both sides listen, differences can be resolved.

Listening to God is an act of love; that God is being loved with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength. Listening to God enables us to love our neighbor as ourselves. Loving both God and neighbor, as Jesus said, brings us closer to the Kingdom of God.