Homilies

Merry Christmas! God is ever near! That is the message we all need to hear this Christmas, especially if we feel that life has been messy and disheartening during the past year.

That is certainly how George Bailey felt.  Who is he, you might be wondering? Seventy-five years ago, Frank Capra released his epic film, It’s a Wonderful Life, with Jimmy Stewart, which became a traditional classic for many people to watch and reflect on at Christmas. The movie is endearing to many because they could relate to George Bailey, the lead character played by Jimmy Stewart.

They were moved by the scene where George feels there is nowhere else to turn. His life is a mess and he ready to give up. The story takes place during the depression so you can imagine his despair. Yet deep inside there is a spark of hope. George pleads, “God, dear Father in heaven, I’m at the end of my ropes. Show me the way.”

As he said that line, Jimmy Stewart felt the loneliness of people who had nowhere to turn. His eyes filled with tears, which wasn’t planned in the script but the power of that prayer, the awareness that our Father in heaven is there to help the hopeless had reduced him to tears.

“God, dear Father in heaven, I’m at the end of my ropes. Show me the way.” Have you found yourself thinking that during the past year? Certainly life has been challenging as we cope with the pandemic and its ever-evolving viruses that still hinders us still in numerous ways from enjoying the life we knew before the coronavirus hit the scene.

The prayers of the folks in Bedford Falls that Christmas Eve were indeed answered. George gets the rare gift of seeing that his supposedly routine life has in fact been a wonderful life; a life that has helped make the lives of others shine as being wonderful as well. As his brother, Henry, said, “George Bailey is the richest man in town.”

When he turned 75 and reflected on this movie, Jimmy Stewart observed, “This is where I made up my mind about certain things…about the importance of hard work and community spirit, the value of family, church and God.” He realized that living life simply in the love of God and neighbor is truly a wonderful life.

George Bailey is a heroic figure who didn’t realize that until Clarence Oddbody, one of God’s angels, convinced him that his simple ordinary life is in fact extraordinary. Clarence urges George to think of all the people in Bedford Falls who came to him for help like Ernie the cabdriver, Bart the cop and other needy families, misguided people like Violet and Uncle Billy whom he treated patiently. Without much thought, George was living out that line buried in Matthew’s gospel, “You did it for me.”

Clarence showed George what the town would be like and how others would have suffered had he never been born. Imagine how different our world would have been had Jesus not be born, then stop and consider how different our world would have been if you hadn’t been born. Consider how you have made a difference. The point is we are all fortunate if, wherever we live, we realize that our actions do affect the larger community. God enables us to make a difference in the lives of those around us. God sent his son to show us how, first by lifting our spirits then by granting us the wisdom to make a difference.

In one scene when everyone is trying to withdraw their funds from his bank, George Bailey points out that the money isn’t there; it’s invested in their neighbors’ homes. He points out that their survival depends on individuals making sacrifices for the betterment of the group.  “We’ve got to stick together. We’ve got to have faith in each other.” In other words, learn to get along with one another so that we might all flourish.

This classic provides many other lessons to ponder. Another one is that the good we bring to the world, the community, to our families and friends doesn’t have to be big and glitzy. It can be small and quiet, which doesn’t negate its value.

Frank Capra, the director, wanted such values that George demonstrated to shine through his film. He said, “I will show the courageous renewal of faith and I will remind the little man that his mission on earth is to advance spiritually… every man, woman and child must know that God loves them and that peace and salvation become a reality only when they all learn to love each other.” Capra said the major goal of It’s a Wonderful Life was to show that each person’s life touches so many other lives. That’s the point that the angel Clarence makes in this film. That’s the point God has always been trying to get across to us as well.

A year ago, I closed my homily with a reflection entitled The Work of Christmas, by Howard Thurman. “When the song of the angels is stilled, when the star in the sky is gone, when the kings and princes 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 brothers, to make music with the heart.” Hopefully your life will touch many others when you strive to carry on the works of Christmas in the coming year, knowing that yours is a wonderful life destined make a difference in someone’s life.

The wait is almost over. Christmas is just days away. Maybe your Advent has flown by and, like me, you cannot believe that already the fourth week is here. Christmas is just around the corner. Hopefully this season has been fruitful for you as you prepared to celebrate the season of Christmas.

The Church gives us relevant readings to remind us that Christ is coming. The passage from Micah forecast centuries before his birth where he would be born. “Bethlehem, too small to be among the clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel.”

In the gospel, we encounter Elizabeth and Mary; their wait is almost over. Both are anticipating not only the birth of their first child but also the arrival of the Christ. Elizabeth asks, “How does it happen that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” That is a pretty profound question. She knew that Mary’s child was no ordinary baby; she was anticipating the prince of peace.

That is someone we too are looking forward to meeting. We yearn for peace yet there doesn’t seem to be much peace in our world today. Many of us grew up under the threat of the cold war; while that war is long over, many skirmishes still continue. Our country just finished its longest combat in the Middle East, but has ending that brought us any closer to peace? Not really. Terrorist attacks still occur. The threat of another war always looms somewhere. Shootings happen daily in our country in our neighborhoods, schools and shopping malls. Some make the headlines, while others are overlooked. Sadly evil and injustice impact us still, so we wonder if peace will ever be possible.

On our own, the answer is not likely. The malice of war and hostility toward one another is the consequence of sin. The English philosopher, Thomas Hobbes, noted that human life is nasty, brutish and short. So true, we can be so unkind, so cruel, so rude, and so inconsiderate to one another. When we are, we certainly are not being Christ-like.

Micah doesn’t say that the Christ will bring us peace; he is peace. He is the fullness of life, for he is full of love, which is something we cannot say about ourselves. Sin thwarts us from being loving at all times and when we do not love, we prevent peace from being experienced.

We encounter Jesus, the prince of peace, in the sacraments; in baptism when we are cleansed of original sin, the sin we inherited from Adam and Eve; in the Eucharist when we are nourished by his very being; and in reconciliation, when our sins are forgiven by a confessor’s words of absolution and we find ourselves at peace with God.

It is uncanny how our moods can shift so abruptly and our relationships, once deemed unshakable, can be shattered. Marriages end in divorce when one spouse no longer tries to minister the sacrament to the other. Relatives and friends distance themselves for any number of reasons due to disagreements. I am mindful of a line I read recently: even if we disagree about everything, we can still be kind to each other. That is where we can find the peace we yearn for.

The celebration of Christ’s birth was enough to bring peace to British and German soldiers who had been fighting one another in the war to end all wars. On the cold frosty night of Christmas Eve in 1914, they put their hostilities aside and joined each other singing Christmas carols. The next day, they declared a cease-fire, exchanged gifts of food, and hugged each other. Days earlier they were enemies but on that day, they conveyed love and peace to one another.

Christ is our peace. He was then for soldiers in 1914; he is our peace today. If the celebration of Christ’s birth could bring peace to that battlefield, his birth can bring peace to us today. We can only call ourselves true Christians if our lives convey the peace of Christ. For that to happen, we must let go of grudges, ill will, or any refusal on our part to forgive. If you are harboring a grudge toward anyone, ask God for the grace to let go. Are you resentful of God or someone else about a situation in your life? Ask God for the grace to let go and move on. Too many relationships have been destroyed by the devil when we refuse to forgive and reconcile.  Be kind to one another. Bearing grudges or refusing to forgive distances you from Jesus and the peace he offers you.  

Just as God guided the course of history, allowing Micah’s prediction to be fulfilled in Bethlehem seven centuries later, God guides our lives. When we come to know Jesus and his message of good will toward all and what that really means, we come to know God’s providence and care for us.

Even though sin continues to turn this fallen world into a valley of suffering and tears where evil often seems to be winning, when we soon find ourselves looking at the baby Jesus lying in the manger, our hearts will be strengthened and our hope confirmed that God is still at work in our world, slowly setting things right. God is present in our hearts, in our homes, in our parish, in our Church, everywhere seeking to lead us to an interior peace and everlasting life, free of strife and conflict.

When the pandemic first hit, life changed significantly for us. Our routine was interrupted. Dining out, shopping, traveling, schooling, and worship were altered. The obligation to attend Mass was suspended. In due time, we increased our seating but far fewer attend Mass than was the norm two years ago.

Last week the obligation to attend Mass was restored. So instead of reflecting on the readings, perhaps a refresher course on the Mass will be helpful, especially if you have been away. Today I will touch on the liturgy of the Eucharist.

From their earliest days of the church, Christians have celebrated the Mass as their primary manner of worship. The name, Eucharist, comes from the Greek, for giving thanks. This prayer is our opportunity to really thank God.

Once the liturgy of the Word is done, the altar is prepared. The collection is taken up; it’s the congregation’s opportunity to thank God by supporting the ministries of the parish. After receiving the collection along with the bread and wine, which was the practice before the pandemic, the celebrant offers the congregation’s gifts of bread and wine as the fruit of the earth and the work of human hands.

This first phase of the liturgy is often called the offertory. The celebrant first blesses God for the bread being offered, which will become for us the bread of life. This prayer is derived from the ancient Jewish benediction said before the family meal.Blessed are you Lord, God of all creation. Through your goodness, we have this bread to offer. Then some drops of water are poured into the chalice. That practice is also derived from a Jewish ritual. Then he blesses God for the wine that is about to be offered. Once the bread and wine have been offered, the celebrant washes his hands symbolically, asking the Lord to cleanse him of his sins. Doing so, he is observing a Jewish penitential rite based on Psalm26: I wash my hands in innocence as I go around your altar O Lord.

Now we move on to the preface. The celebrant invites you to stand and lift up your hearts and to give thanks to the Lord our God. There are more than 50 different prefaces, some designated to specific feasts, others for a season or a purpose, such as a Mass for the dead.

At the end of every preface comes the Sanctus, when together we acclaim that God is holy. The congregation then kneels for the Eucharistic Prayer. There are nine altogether. The first is known as the Roman Canon, which I use on solemn feasts such as Easter and Christmas.

The Eucharistic Prayer continues with the epiclesis when the celebrant asks God the Father to send down the Holy Spirit upon our gifts of bread and wine so that they become the body and blood of Jesus Christ, resonating our belief in what Jesus said at the Last Supper.

The consecration, the highlight of our worship, then takes place. The bread and wine are transformed into the body and blood of our Lord. The bread and wine do not symbolize Jesus; they become his real presence.  Surveys show that many Catholics question this belief and even dismiss this as being impossible. How can something that still taste and look the same as bread and wine be anything else?

I’m not a theologian but the simplest insight I can offer is this. If out of nothing, God has created all that exists, who are we to limit what God can do? I marvel at the vastness of God’s creation from the wildlife that lives here to distant galaxies. I marvel at how life is woven together. How, for example, all the parts of the body work together: breathing, eating, thinking, sleeping, moving, and creating new life.

We believe that God is everywhere. God is present to change our gifts of bread and wine into his Son. Yes, they still taste and look like bread and wine but the substance has been transformed. Jesus has taken on the substance of bread and wine just as he said he would at the Last Supper.

Following the consecration, we join the cantor in reaffirming our belief in what happened with the mystery of faith. The Eucharistic Prayer concludes with the doxology. Holding up Jesus, the celebrant proclaims that all glory and honor belongs to God. You join the cantor with the great Amen.

We then stand for the communion rite that begins with the Lord’s Prayer, followed by a plea that God delivers us from every evil. This leads to another prayer for peace. Before the pandemic, we exchanged a sign of peace. When the time is right, that gesture will be restored. Then comes the Agnus Dei, Lamb of God…grant us peace. Then you kneel once more as the celebrant acclaims, “Behold the Lamb of God” and you respond, “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you.”

Not only is the act of receiving communion a private encounter with Jesus, it also joins us as a single body, a community of believers united by our faith in God. Ask yourself, “Do I believe that this is the Christ?” When you hear the words, “Body of Christ,” your reply is, “Amen,” which means “I believe this is Jesus the Christ, not bread.”

When the communion is done, there is silence, a time for us to again thank the Lord for what we have received. We then stand as the rite concludes with a prayer, a blessing, and then a recessional song.  We then go forth to love God!

Just as the Word of God came to John the Baptist during the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, it comes to us today during the seventh year of the papacy of Francis, bishop of Rome. We heard John the Baptist tell his listeners to “prepare the way of the Lord.” One way we can do that is to worship God by celebrating the Mass. Since the pandemic began, many have not gathered to do so but as of this Wednesday, when we celebrate the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, we are again being obligated to do so provided we are in good health. I thought a refresher course on the Mass would be helpful.

From its earliest days, the Mass has been the primary manner of worship for Catholics. Jesus celebrated the first Mass at the Last Supper when he took bread and wine and told the disciples, “This is my body…this is my blood.”

On the first Easter Sunday, the day he rose from the dead, Jesus journeyed from Jerusalem to Emmaus with two sad disciples who were mourning about what had happened there. Not until he broke bread in their home did they recognize Jesus in the breaking of the bread.

Since then Catholics worldwide have gathered to be fed, not just the Eucharist but also the Word of God. Our worship is called the Mass; its name is derived from the Latin directive given at the end to go forth and serve the Lord.

The Mass is divided into two parts: Liturgy of the Word and Liturgy of the Eucharist. Both are relevant to our worship of God.  Think of the Mass as a multi-course meal and that every course matters.

The Liturgy of the Word begins with a greeting from the celebrant, followed by the penitential rite, when we acknowledge our sins, seek God’s forgiveness and prepare ourselves to celebrate the sacred mystery of the Mass.  Usually, the Kyrie is said, but sometimes, a sprinkling rite is substituted to remind us of our baptism.

On Sundays outside of Lent and Advent and on solemnities the Gloria is then said; our moment for praising God. Following the Gloria comes the collect, the opening prayer assigned to the Mass of the day. Every celebrant at every English speaking Mass said the same collect which you heard moments ago.

Then we sat down to listen to the Word of God. Unlike in some other denominations, the readings you just heard were not arbitrarily chosen. Since the Council of Trent, readings were assigned to each Mass. Until Vatican II changed our manner of celebrating the Mass, the readings would be repeated every year. In the decade following Vatican II, the Church along with other mainline Protestant denominations created the Lectionary to be repeated every three years; this allowed for more scripture passages to be heard. Each year focuses on one of the gospels; Matthew, Mark or Luke. In all three cycles, John is proclaimed from time to time. For daily Mass, there is a two year cycle that contains some passages not heard on Sundays.

The words of this book are our food and drink. We listened as the lector nourished us with the Word of the Lord. At Sunday Masses, three scripture passages are read. The first is from the Hebrew testament, except during the Easter season; the second is always from the New Testament; and the third is from the gospels. Oftentimes the first reading gives us a word or an image that is reflected in the Gospel.  At daily Mass, there are two readings; the first from either the old or the New Testament and the second from a Gospel. At every Mass, there is a responsorial psalm.

Ideally this is a time for us to listen to God. If you use a missal, read the passages before Mass so that they are familiar as you listen to the lector. Listen to hear a word you have not let into your mind and heart before. Listen as you would to the voice and words of someone who loves you. Be open to hearing what God is saying to you. The person doing the reading, called the lector, supposedly has spent time preparing for this important task.

Following the Gospel comes the homily, usually the effort of someone who has pondered the readings to see what they might mean in the life of the Church.  That pondering is both lonely and social. The homilist has to wrestle with these scriptures and also be in touch with the life that the Church lives. The Gospel and world bang together in the homily, sometimes to the consternation of those listening. In these few minutes the homilist endeavors to enable those listening to better understand God’s will for building a finer world.

Following the homily, the celebrant leads the congregation with the profession of faith, one of the ancient creeds that summarizes the belief of the Church.

The liturgy of the Word then concludes with the prayers of the faithful. It is a litany of intercessions to which every one listening responds with the plea, “Lord hear our prayer.” After hearing and taking to heart the word of God, we pray to God for all that this world and the Church longs for. We are telling God to remember the oppressed, the suffering, the sick, the victims of injustice, the dying, the leaders, both religious and civil, and many others that come to mind.  The Church is an assembly of believers that will not let God forget. We are filled with joy, knowing that the Lord has done great things for us and will continue to do so.

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.