MUSINGS

Fifth Sunday of Lent

Readings: Isaiah 43:16-21; Psalm 126; Philippians 3:8-14; John 8:1-11

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      “Has no one condemned you?”

      We are all familiar with the story of the woman caught in adultery; how the crowds brought her to Jesus and made her stand in the middle of them while they accused her of crimes that warranted death, according to Mosaic law. They did this to test Jesus, not because they really desired to follow the law. He knew their hearts.

      It has been suggested that what Jesus bent down and wrote on the ground were the sins of the people gathered around the woman. For them to so arrogantly parade this woman’s sin before everyone, they would now see their own sins displayed before that same crowd. Jesus would not be manipulated by these people, but would show the true heart of God.

      Throughout the Bible’s history, God has shown again and again His mercy to His people. In the first reading, He alludes to their deliverance from Egypt; how the Egyptians were stopped in their pursuit of the Children of Israel: “they lay prostrate together, never to rise, snuffed out and quenched like a wick.”

      The psalmist also recounts God’s deliverance, this time from the land of Babylon. “When the Lord brought back the captives…then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with rejoicing.”

      St. Paul recalls his deliverance by God from a life of self-righteousness. “I consider everything as a loss because of the supreme good of knowing Christ Jesus.”

      Do we celebrate God delivering us from “the desert” of sin that we have lived in? Have we first felt the shame of our sinfulness that the adulterous woman must have felt? Have we stood before Jesus, humiliated by our weakness, feeling condemned, with no one to plead our cause? Yet, Jesus stands before us, looks us straight in the eye, and tells us that no one is condemning us, not even God himself.

      We can feel that way in the Sacrament of Reconciliation. We must tell our sins to another person, facing our shame for what we have done. Rather than condemn, the priest, acting in the person of Jesus, tells us, “neither do I condemn you…Go, and from now on do not sin any more.”

      Suddenly, “in the desert, I make a way, in the wasteland, rivers.” God has changed our mourning into rejoicing. “Although they go forth weeping…they shall come back rejoicing.”

      The story is not over yet. St. Paul tells us, “not that I have already…attained perfect maturity.” He knows that we will fall again, but he also knows that because “I have indeed been taken possession of by Christ Jesus,” he can continue to strive after Christ, “forgetting what lies behind but straining forward to what lies ahead.” The reading from Isaiah tells us, “The things of long ago consider not; see I am doing something new.” Christ is transforming us so that we might become the people whom “I formed for myself, that they might announce my praise,” as we declare, “The Lord has done great things for us; we are glad indeed.”

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Fourth Sunday of Lent

Readings: Joshua 5:9a, 10-12; Psalm 34; 2 Corinthians 5:17-21; Luke 15:1-3, 11-32

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      “This son of mine was dead, and has come to life again; he was lost, and has been found.”

      We are all familiar with the story of the Prodigal Son. How the younger son of a man takes his inheritance and squanders it all, then returns repentant to the father, who accepts him with love. It is the genuine sorrow of the young man—and regret—that causes him to return to his father. “I have sinned against heaven and against you,” he says. Yet the father will hear none of that. He runs to his son and embraces him, calls the servants to give him the finest robe and a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet, and a fatted calf to celebrate his return. His joy is overwhelming. He had lost his son, who was as good as dead to him by the choices the son had made. Yet the father’s love forgives all that in an embrace, and does not linger on the fault, but rejoices in the return of his son.

      When the son realized his folly, he had a change of heart. He knew he was not even worthy to be called the man’s son anymore. He only hoped for a little mercy from the one he had offended so gravely. Yet, that is not how the father reacted. The father began anew with the young man.

      That newness of life is a running theme through the readings today. St. Paul tells us “whoever is in Christ is a new creation: the old things have passed away.” “This son of mine was dead,” the father in the Gospel echoes. Do we understand that we, who have a habit of turning away from God and His goodness, also receive new life when we return to Him?

      “Look to him that you may be radiant with joy,” the psalmist tells us. Know that when you turn to Christ, He will make you new. You can feel that by your sin you are unworthy of His love—and by rights, you actually are unworthy—but that does not stop Him from embracing you and loving you and declaring once more that you are His beloved son (or daughter).

      When the Israelites wandered in the desert, God provided for them manna as their food. When they reached the Promised Land, the manna stopped. God wanted to show them that the old order was done with and now He was doing something new. They had passed from the old life into new life in Him. “Today I have removed the reproach of Egypt from you.” No longer were they slaves; now they were free.

      That is our call. It’s time to stop living in the desert of our sinfulness and regrets. It’s time to “get up and go to my father” and let Him shower you with His love. He has the royal robe of sonship waiting, the ring of His authority, the sandals of zeal for the gospel, and the banquet of the Eucharist prepared for you. Do not delay. Now is not a time to wallow in self-pity or fear of rejection. Get up and turn to Him. As you do, He will run to you and embrace you and declare you once again to be His beloved child. “Let my soul glory in the Lord,” for He has removed the “reproach of Egypt” from you and you can begin life anew in Him.

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Third Sunday of Lent

Readings: Exodus 3:1-8a, 13-15; Psalm 103; 1 Corinthians 10:1-6, 10-12; Luke 13:1-9

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      “Whoever thinks he is standing secure should take care not to fall.”

      These words of warning from St. Paul might frighten us if we have become comfortable in our faith. If we have determined that we have it all together and are living good lives, this reminder tells us how easy it is to become caught up in self-righteousness instead of the righteousness of God. Were we not also baptized into the faith and ate the spiritual food and drank the spiritual drink that the Church gives us? St. Paul tells us, “God was not pleased with most of them…”

      Jesus gives warning to the people of Galilee in words that are even stronger than the words of Paul. “If you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!”

      Should we be fearful? Is there no hope? The psalmist gives us the remainder of the story by completing the picture for us. “He pardons all your iniquities, heals all your ills. He redeems you life from destruction…Merciful and gracious is the Lord, slow to anger and abounding in kindness.”

      How do we fit these two images of God together: the God who in justice will condemn and the God who in mercy forgives? The key is repentance.

      If we determine that we are “standing secure” because we have done all the “right” things, that is when we are in danger of God’s wrath. But, if we recognize that we are sinners in need of a savior, then God in His mercy will come to us, forgive us our sins, and heal us.

      Moses recognized the holiness of God in the first reading. He also realized how inadequate he was to do what God commanded him. Yet, because God was going with him, he would be able to accomplish all that God desired him to do. It is the same for us. We cannot be holy in our own strength. We must rely on God, who is always with us, to give us the strength to overcome our sinfulness and live the life He has called us to.

      Jesus tells the story of the fig tree that has not borne fruit even after three years of cultivation. The owner of the tree determines to cut it down for its lack of fruitfulness. The gardener intervenes and tells the owner, “leave it for this year also…it may bear fruit in the future. If not, you can cut it down.” Jesus desires to give us one more chance. There is a prayer in the Liturgy of the Hours that says that God will “even add days and years to our lives in order to bring us wisdom.” He is always giving us one more chance to repent and be saved.

      God gives us all that we need in order to repent. In the Collect, the opening prayer, we pray, “O God… who in fasting, prayer, and almsgiving, have shown us a remedy for sin…” We use these “tools” of God’s mercy to help us refrain from sin and grow more into the character of God, as we learn to love Him more and to serve our neighbor out of love for Him, and thus “fulfill the whole of your commands,” as the closing prayer proclaims.

      So, do not be frightened when God warns you of impending doom. Instead, repent and receive God’s mercy, knowing that “as the heavens are high above the earth, so surpassing is his kindness toward those who fear him… Bless the Lord, O my soul.”

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Second Sunday of Lent

Readings: Genesis 15:5-12, 17-18; Psalm 27; Philippians 3:17-4:1; Luke 9:28b-36

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      “He will change our lowly body…”

      We are only in the second week of Lent, a time of increased fasting and praying and almsgiving, a time of introspection and really looking at our lives and deciding to make changes to draw us closer to God. With the sacrifices comes discomfort as we begin to shake the status quo. Yet God, who knows our fickle hearts, already gives us the promise of new life that awaits us if we but persevere.

      In the Preface, the priest prays, “On the holy mountain he manifested to them his glory, to show, even by the testimony of the law and the prophets, that the Passion leads to the glory of the Resurrection.” The apostles, Peter, John, and James, experienced a little of the glory of the Resurrection when they witnessed Jesus transfigured before them: “his face changed in appearance and his clothing became dazzling white.”

      Jesus had to undergo the crucifixion before He would reach the glory of the Resurrection. He had already explained to His disciples how He “must suffer greatly … and be killed,” and now He was showing them the glory that would come to Him after the Resurrection.

      The presence of the Father comes in the form of a dark cloud that frightens them, much as the dark cloud of God’s presence frightened Abram in the first reading. Yet, the presence of God should not frighten, as this is when God made His covenant with Abraham to bless Him. This is also when the Father spoke to the disciples to tell them, “This is my chosen Son, listen to him.”

      When Jesus spoke in His transfigured state, He talked with Moses and Elijah about the “exodus that he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem.” As Moses had led the Israelites out of Egypt in the first Exodus into the Promised Land, so Jesus will lead His people out of the slavery of sin into the Promised Land of heaven. This new exodus must pass through Calvary. When we experience our own Calvary, we may forget the Promised Land that awaits us. This transfiguration event gives us hope of the resurrection yet to come in our own lives.

      The psalmist tells us, “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom should I fear?” We need fear no one as we walk through the dark valleys of life if we hold onto the truth of the Resurrection. Do not let your minds be “occupied with earthly things,” St. Paul tells us in his letter to the Philippians. Rather, remember that “our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we also await a savior.” Cry out with the psalmist, “Hear, O Lord, the sound of my call; have pity on me, and answer me … Your presence, O Lord, I seek.”

      Know that suffering in this world is temporary, but that glory awaits us in heaven. Let Christ transfigure you that you may be able to pray with confidence the words of the Prayer after Communion: “we make thanksgiving to you, O Lord, for allowing us while still on earth to be partakers even now of the things of heaven.”

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First Sunday of Lent

Readings: Deuteronomy 26:4-10; Psalm 91; Romans 10:8-13; Luke 4:1-13

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      “Because he clings to me, I will deliver him.”

      The Lord speaks through the psalmist to tell us that He is our hope, He is our salvation, He is all we need. He is the very bread that feeds us, Jesus reminds us in the Gospel. When Jesus was tempted by the devil in today’s reading, we see the first temptation is that of food, to satisfy the hunger of the body which Jesus was experiencing. Jesus rebuked Satan by reminding him that there is a greater hunger in all of us that can only be filled by God through His Word Jesus.

      We fast during Lent so that these lesser hungers, the hungers of our physical body, can be disciplined, can be overcome, so that we can focus on our true hunger, which is hunger for the God who made us. When we have stripped away all the lesser hungers and they no longer occupy our thinking, then we can focus on this deeper hunger, this hunger for God.

      We present ourselves before God, offering our “first fruits” as the first reading talks about. Our first fruits are the best of our lives: our talents, our skills, our abilities, our very lives. As we offer them to the Lord, we remember how God has been faithful to us throughout our lives, how He has protected us in times of trouble, how He has lifted us up in times of darkness, how He has freed us from our sins in the times we have failed to live out His commands. We acknowledge that all we have and are is gift from Him.

      God has indeed been with me “when I am in trouble.” He has sheltered me and not allowed evil to befall me. He has lifted me up and set me on high. So, I am able to “tread upon…the viper” when he comes at me to torment me and attempt to draw me toward evil by offering me satisfaction for my bodily hungers, worldly power over people and circumstances, and pride in my own abilities and accomplishments, the same three temptations Jesus experienced.

      St. Paul tells us to “believe in our hearts” in the resurrection, to “confess with our mouths” that Jesus is Lord. “No one who believes in him will be put to shame,” he continues. We show our belief in Him when we call upon him “when I am in trouble.” In the closing prayer, we pray “that hope may grow in tribulation, virtue be strengthened in temptation, and eternal redemption be assured.” We grow through the struggles because we see our limitations and we know that the only hope we have comes from God as we call upon Him to save us.

      The Lord continues to speak in the psalm: “He shall call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in distress; I will deliver him and glorify him.”

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Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: Sirach 27:4-7; Psalm 92; 1 Corinthians 15:54-58; Luke 6:39-45

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      “The fruit of the tree shows the care that it has had.”

      The book of Sirach compares the care of a tree to the “bent of one’s mind.” Jesus, in the Gospel, also talks about trees and their fruit. He compares a good tree to a good person and the “store of goodness in his heart.” These parallel images are meant to show us that our interior disposition will always come out in our actions and especially in our speech. We can’t hide the truth from the outside of who we are on the inside.

      How do we become the “good person” that Jesus refers to in the Gospel? How do we become the “just one” as the psalmist describes them? It is only in surrender to Jesus that we can reach our full potential, that we can become the “good person” that Jesus describes. Sirach tells us that “when a sieve is shaken, the husks appear.” It is in adversity that the darkness of our hearts is revealed and can be dealt with by the Lord. Sirach goes on to say, “the test of what the potter molds is in the furnace, so in tribulation is the test of the just.”

      God takes us through trials and tribulations to mold us into what He desires us to become: that “good person” he refers to today. He wants us to bear good fruit, but like any gardener, he has to cultivate us by tilling the soil, fertilizing it, and pruning the deadwood from our branches.

      He wants to disciple us, to teach us His way and to have us follow in it so that we would become, as He tells us in the Gospel, “like his teacher.” Unfortunately, our hardness of heart has made us blind to our own faults and we lead others astray because we do not see the full truth of life in Christ. So, Jesus will remove the “wooden beam” that blocks our vision, that keeps us from seeing the whole truth of our lives. That process will often be painful.

      We have to remember that Christ has already won the victory for us; He has removed our sin, which St. Paul tells us is the “sting of death,” the thing that holds us back from being fully alive. Because He has won the victory over sin and death for us, we can become the good tree that bears good fruit. The psalmist even tells us that we will “flourish” and “bear fruit even in old age; vigorous and sturdy shall they be.”

      The sign of our new life will be our speech. Sirach tells us, “one’s speech discloses the bent of one’s mind.” Jesus echoes that by telling us, “from the fullness of the heart the mouth speaks.” If we have surrendered ourselves to Christ and allow Him to take us through tribulation to prune us and disciple us, then our lives will be transformed and it will show in our speech and, as the psalmist tells us, we will be “declaring how just is the Lord, my rock, in whom there is no wrong.”

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Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: 1 Samuel 26:2, 7-9, 12-13, 22-23; Psalm 103; 1 Corinthians 15:45-49; Luke 6:27-38

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      “Not according to our sins does he deal with us.”

      Thanks be to God that the above statement is true! If God did deal with us according to our sins, we would be in sorry shape. “The Lord is kind and merciful,” so the psalm tells us, but our romantic ideas of what that means color our understanding of this merciful God. We start to think that He is okay with everything that we do because He is kind and merciful. That is the farthest thing from the truth. God’s brand of kindness and mercy calls us to a higher level, transforms us to think—and act—differently. When we accept His mercy, we must be prepared to let Him change us.

      Jesus begins to explain this in the Gospel by saying, “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.” I know the temptation there, for that last one at least, is to pray that God would get hold of that person and straighten them out. But that is not what He means by that. We need to bless them; pray for good things for them.

      “Do to others as you would have them do to you.” How would you want to be treated by someone whom you have hurt, someone that you have treated badly? They might have every right to hate you, to disparage you in front of others. What would it do for you if suddenly you found out they were praying that God blesses you?

      God desires to make us more like Himself. When we think of how we offend God with some of the things we say and do, do we deserve His love and mercy, or do we deserve His scorn? Yet, “he pardons all your iniquities, heals all your ills.” His love is so much bigger than our petty grievances, but again, He does not ignore those. In His love, He desires to wipe them away, and to do that, He must sometimes take us through difficult experiences—trials—in order to mold us into what He desires us to be.

      It is possible to be transformed. We were created in the image of the first Adam, St. Paul tells us in the reading from First Corinthians. When we received Christ as our savior, we now “also bear the image of the heavenly (Adam).” In the first reading, from the first book of Samuel, we see “a man after (God’s) own heart” in David, who had allowed God to transform him throughout his life. As a result, he was able to love his enemy and to do good to the one who mistreated him.

      God does not hold our sins against us when we confess them to Him. “As far as the east is from the west, so far has he put our transgressions from us.” We can rejoice in the new life He has given us. We can respond to Him when He calls us to love those that we might, in the natural, find unlovable. Then He promises us a rich reward: “good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing, will be poured into your lap.”

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Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: Jeremiah 17:5-8; Psalm 1; 1 Corinthians 15:12, 16-20; Luke 6:17, 20-26

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      “Blessed are you when people hate you.”

      This is one of the “blessings” that Jesus tells us about in His sermon on the plain from today’s Gospel. He also tells us we are blessed when we are poor, when we are hungry, and when we weep. His conclusion is even more startling. He tells us to “rejoice and leap for joy on that day.”

      Does this make any sense? How can this be?

      Elsewhere in the Scriptures, our God tells us, “My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways.” Here we find a perfect example of that. So, what is Jesus really trying to tell us?

      In my pastor’s homily, he pointed out that the areas in life where we are most tempted are with wanting material plenty, satisfying our appetites, striving after happiness, and desiring to be accepted by others. Those are exactly the four attitudes Jesus addresses in Luke’s Gospel, and He turns our human understanding upside down. He tells us not to desire to accumulate things, not to try to satisfy our cravings, not to look to people and things for our happiness, and not to try to do things to get people to like us.

      Jeremiah gives us the foundation for how to live out this life that God is calling us to. He tells us not to “seek our strength in flesh,” in other words, not to rely solely on ourselves or others to fulfill our needs. Instead, he tells us, “Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord.” His vivid description of the barren bush in “a salt and empty earth” is a striking contrast to the “tree planted beside the waters,” which is the one who trusts in the Lord. I like the fact that Jeremiah tells us the tree “stretches out its roots to the stream,” implying to me that we have work to do to grow into the people who truly trust the Lord.

      The reward for trusting in the Lord is worth it. Jeremiah tells us that even “in the year of drought it shows no distress, but still bears fruit.” The psalm echoes this by telling us it “yields its fruit in due season, and whose leaves never fade.” I especially like the last part: “Whatever he does prospers.”

      Are you tired of chasing after happiness and trying to satisfy the desires of your flesh with money, accumulation of things, or acceptance by others? Trust in the Lord. Seek to follow the One who has gone to His death that He might rise again, “the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep,” as St. Paul tells us in the reading from First Corinthians. That is the pattern for our lives as well. We must seek Him in our poverty of spirit, hunger after Him, weep for love of Him, and ask Him to accept us into His kingdom that we can “rejoice and leap for joy on that day.”

      I often look at the lives of saints and martyrs and marvel how firmly they stood in the faith when challenged by their persecutors. They bravely faced torture and death for the sake of the Lord. At that moment, God gave them the strength to be able to be joyful and at peace in their greatest trial, but it was also their lifetime of learning to live the way of Christ, of setting aside their desires and turning their hearts to His desires. Their minds were renewed in Christ because they were living the beatitudes that Luke gives us in today’s Gospel, in order to prepare them for their final moments and that final choice to say yes to God even in the face of death.

      Now is the time to begin to live the beatitudes that Christ gives us. As we do, we will begin to see our minds and hearts formed after Christ. I hope that we never have to face someone who will give us a choice of either our faith or death, but if we do, we will be ready.

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Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: Isaiah 6:1-2a, 3-8; Psalm 138; 1 Corinthians 15:1-11; Luke 5:1-11

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      “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.”

      These are the words Simon Peter spoke to Jesus after witnessing the miracle of the great catch of fish. Simon was a fisherman. He knew his trade, and he was probably pretty good at it, but after a night of fruitless effort, he was tired and ready to call it a day. Sometimes the fish bite and sometimes they don’t. That was just the way of the sea, and part of the fabric of the life that Simon had come to expect.

      The Scriptures tell us that Simon was not an educated man. He was trained in his trade and he practiced his faith as best he knew how, but a certain coarseness had developed in him, the product of living day to day in the world and not making holiness a priority. He knew his character. He was a practicing Jew, but I expect he bent the rules every once in a while because of the demands of daily life.

      Then he met Jesus. The Gospel of John tells us that Andrew met Jesus first, then brought Simon to Him. So, I believe our reading from today was not Simon’s first encounter with Jesus. I believe Simon had met Jesus, then returned to his trade, so he would not be surprised by this preacher coming along and asking to step into his boat to preach to the crowds that followed Him. That is why he called him “Master.”

      Then Jesus asked Simon to do something that Simon knew was foolish. “Put out into the deep water and lower your nets for a catch.” He had just come in to shore after working all night and catching nothing. Why should he go back out and try again? The look he gave Jesus as he said, “we have worked hard all night and have caught nothing,” must have showed his frustration at Jesus’ request. The look that Jesus gave him in return, however, was enough for him to reluctantly acquiesce. “But at your command, I will lower the nets.”

      In Simon’s obedience to Jesus, he sees the miracle, and his reaction shows he knew the condition of his heart. He was a good man, but he was not a holy man. Now this truly holy Man was right there in front of him, asking him to do something that he knew wouldn’t work. Yet it did! He felt his unworthiness before this holy Man. Thus his response, “Depart from me.”

      Jesus would have none of that. His response was, “Do not be afraid.” Was it fear that Simon was experiencing? Fear of the power of God? Fear of the call that Jesus was now placing on his life? Fear that everything would change and that he would have to change to live this new life? I think it was all of the above, yet Simon had the courage in that moment to say, “Yes.” The Gospel reading ends by saying, “they left everything and followed him.”

      In our first reading Isaiah experiences something similar and it is only through the touch of the angel—his miracle—that he is able to say, “Here I am…Send me.”

      Each of us has a call on our lives from God. Some of us have had powerful conversion experiences like St. Paul and we can clearly see that God is calling us to Himself. Others of us who live our day-to-day lives quietly might not recognize the call as easily, or be convinced by the miraculous, that we have been called.

      However, the call is real. You will hear it as you seek God in prayer. You will know His call if you listen for His voice. It may not be to some great thing. It may be found sometimes in the day-to-day living where we see God’s call to be His witnesses: sharing a smile, offering a helping hand, offering to pray for someone who is hurting.

      In those circumstances, sometimes we will also have the opportunity to share the Gospel. St. Paul gives us a pattern for how to share the Gospel in the reading from First Corinthians. “Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day.” This one who died for our sins now calls us, as He did with Paul, as He did with Peter, as He did with Isaiah. He calls us to be His witnesses to the resurrection power of Jesus in our lives. That is our mission. That is our call. Do not ask the Lord to leave you because of your unworthiness. Do not be afraid. Embrace the call, and then you will see the miracles of God in your life.

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Feast of the Presentation of the Lord

Readings: Malachi 3:1-4; Psalm 24; Hebrews 2:14-18; Luke 2:22-40

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      “My eyes have seen your salvation…”

      Today, the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord, also known as Candlemas Day, is when all the candles to be used throughout the year for various liturgical functions are blessed by the priest. This is tied in with the words of Simeon as he sees the Christ child in the temple: “Now, Master, you may let your servant go in peace, according to your word, for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you prepared in the sight of all the peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and glory for your people Israel.”

      Jesus is revealed today as the light of the world, not just to his people in Israel, but to the whole world, including us who are Gentiles.

      The Scriptures tell us that “the child’s father and mother were amazed at what was said about him.” Can you imagine what Mary and Joseph must have felt when a total stranger walks up to them in this holy place and begins to speak words of prophecy over their child?

      I can’t help but think that Simeon heard the words of the prophet Malachi echo in his mind as he saw the child: “and suddenly there will come to the temple the Lord whom you seek.” Through the power of the Spirit, Simeon was able to look at this unassuming little baby and know—yes, actually know—that this was the longed-for Messiah. The prophetess Anna believed the words she heard Simeon speak, so she began to tell everyone who this tiny child was.

      Why did He come as he did? In the letter to the Hebrews, it says, “he had to become like his brothers and sisters in every way…to expiate the sins of the people.” His purpose was to free us from sin and death that we might have the power to live for God.

      In Malachi, it says that “He is like a refiner’s fire…he will sit refining and purifying silver.” Purifying gold or silver requires a process of heating up the metal to an extreme temperature where all the impurities come to the surface and the “dross” can be removed to leave the pure gold or silver. This is what Christ has come to do for us.

      How often do we get into a situation where God desires to refine us but we refuse to allow Him to work? We don’t like it when things “heat up” around us. It’s painful to let go of the dross in our lives that we sometimes cling to so desperately. If we truly desire to stand before Him as a new creation, we must allow our savior to do the work He has been called to do in our lives.

      Rejoice today in the light of revelation to us Gentiles, but know with the joy will also come the painful process of purifying our hearts. Jesus came to die on a cross. As His followers, He calls us to no less. We must pick up our cross and follow Him. It is only there we will find true joy.

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Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: Nehemiah 8:2-4a, 5-6, 8-10; Psalm 19; 1 Corinthians 12:12-30; Luke 1:1-4, 4:14-21

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      “The people were weeping as they heard the words of the law.”

      This passage is related to us from the book of Nehemiah, and it is my understanding that the law had been lost to most of those people for generations. They had returned from exile to Jerusalem and discovered the book of the law and, so for many of these people, this was the first time they heard the word of the Lord. What caused them to react by weeping?

      I will conjecture to say that it was the Holy Spirit. The psalmist tells us: “Your words, Lord, are Spirit and life.” These are not just nice stories from history, they are God-breathed words given to us by prophetic voices from the past. God speaks to us directly through His words, and when God speaks words of conviction, our hearts should be touched. As we recognize our sinfulness, we should feel sorrow for offending God. Perhaps we should even now weep when the Word is proclaimed to us.

      However, that is not the end of the story. When the Spirit speaks to us, He wants us to know how little we have, how truly impoverished our spirits are, but He also wants to tell us the remedy for our misery. He takes our sinfulness and washes it away in the blood of Jesus and we need no longer weep, but now we can rejoice in our Savior! The psalmist goes on to tell us that the Scriptures are capable of “refreshing the soul” and “rejoicing the heart.”

      Nehemiah and Ezra tried to tell the Israelites the same thing. “Today is holy to the Lord” and “do not be saddened this day.” Our sinfulness is not the end of the story. The redemption of Christ is.

      In the Gospel reading today, Jesus proclaims the words of the prophet Isaiah. When He finished reading it, “the eyes of all in the synagogue looked intently at him.” The presence of the Spirit was almost palpable as the Word was proclaimed by Christ, just as it had been for the Israelites in the reading from Nehemiah.

      Of course, many of those who were there that day had heard this passage before and had pondered on it a great deal, but it was just an exercise of the mind. This day, Jesus wanted to show them just how alive the Word of God really is. In His declaration, “Today this Scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing,” He showed the people that the Word of God was “living and effective,” and indeed He Himself was the Word.

      God has given us His Spirit, that first we would realize our poverty, and secondly that we would recognize His saving act in our lives. As He redeems us, He calls us to be part of His body.

      “All were given to drink of the one Spirit,” St. Paul tells us in the reading from First Corinthians today. As part of Christ’s body, we each are given of the Spirit “for some benefit,” this same passage tells us earlier. The Spirit that has woken our hearts in the proclamation of the Word now draws us into unity, and the unity of the body is more than just a closeness, that we are brothers and sisters in the family of God. It is an intimacy that says we are connected somehow at a deeper level—we are part of one another. That is why “if one part suffers, all the parts suffer with it.”

      The Spirit has come. He has spoken to us through His Word. He has called us to be one. Now is not the time for weeping over our sins and our shortcomings, for as the psalmist tells us elsewhere, “as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our sins from us.” No, now is a time for rejoicing. Christ has saved us and called us to His one body and has charged us to use our gifts to build up His body, so now “rejoicing in the Lord must be your strength!”

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Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: Isaiah 62:1-5; Psalm 96; 1 Corinthians 12:4-11; John 2:1-11

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      “As a bridegroom rejoices in his bride, so shall your God rejoice in you.”

      The relationship that God desires for us is not just to have Jesus as our friend, but to have Him as our husband. We, the church, are the Bride of Christ. Our bridegroom gives Himself completely to us at Calvary and through the Eucharist.

      Once, we were lost in sin. We were like a barren and “desolate” land, as it is described in the reading from Isaiah, but Christ has come and called us to Himself and desires now to celebrate the wedding feast with us.

      It is fitting that Christ’s first miracle of His public life should take place at a wedding. Here He begins to reveal the spousal relationship He desires to have with us. The water He makes into wine is the best wine, according to the steward. Likewise, the new wine we receive at our wedding feast—the Holy Spirit Himself—is also the best.

      We rejoice in His self-gift to us. We “sing to the Lord a new song,” a song of praise and wonder at the miracle of His joining with us and becoming one with us. Our hearts are purified by this new wine which comes from “ceremonial water jars,” vessels used to purify their users, and we have now put on the “holy attire” of the wedding garment. Our hearts are prepared to celebrate the nuptials.

      Our spouse not only lavishes Himself on us, but He also lavishes gifts on us. The reading from First Corinthians elaborates on these gifts which our spouse has given to us “for some benefit,” the benefit of building up the Bride of Christ, to make her more fully prepared to receive her husband.

      Rejoice that God has chosen you to be His bride, and celebrate the wedding feast with the new wine of the Spirit. “Sing to the Lord, bless his name…give to the Lord glory and praise; give to the Lord the glory due his name!”

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The Baptism of the Lord

Readings: Isaiah 40:1-5, 9-11; Psalm 104; Titus 2:11-14, 3:4-7; Luke 3:15-16, 21-22

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      “O bless the Lord, my soul.”

      How can we not desire to praise God for having given us the gift of baptism?

      The psalmist tells us, “When you send forth your spirit, they are created, and you renew the face of the earth.” In Paul’s letter to Titus, he crystallizes the relationship between the waters of baptism and the coming of the Spirit when he says, “he saved us through the bath of rebirth and renewed by the Holy Spirit, whom he richly poured out on us, through Jesus Christ our savior, so that we might be justified by his grace and become heirs in hope of eternal life.”

      This unmerited gift of salvation has been given to us and we are now heirs to the kingdom! Coheirs with Christ, children of the King! There is indeed cause for great rejoicing here. The words of God spoken over Jesus at His baptism become the words God speaks over us: “You are my beloved son (daughter); with whom I am well pleased.”

      In a way, the prophecy of Isaiah is fulfilled through our baptism. “Every valley shall be filled in, every mountain and hill shall be made low; the rugged land shall be made a plain, the rough country a broad valley. The glory of the Lord shall be revealed.”

      Where in our life are there mountains that we cannot climb? Where are there rugged lands and rough country where we have trouble traversing? These things are now covered with God’s grace and can be conquered as we submit to God and allow the grace we received when we became His children to work in our lives.

      God provides all we need. The psalmist tells us, “They look to you to give them food in due time. When you give it to them, they gather it; when you open your hand, they are filled with good things.” God has richly provided for us. It is all there in His nail-scarred hands, open to give to you. Receive from the Lord all that He desires to give you. Receive His mercy and His love. Let Him wash over you with His precious blood as the waters of baptism once washed over you. Let Him once again give you new life.

      Then we can say with the psalmist, “O Lord, my God, you are great indeed! O bless the Lord, my soul.”

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The Epiphany of the Lord

Readings: Isaiah 60:1-6; Psalm 72; Ephesians 3:2-3a, 5-6; Matthew 2:1-12

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      “Your heart shall throb and overflow.”

      What could make a reaction so great within us? A pounding heart, an overflowing of joy: this is our reaction to the Epiphany of Christ among us. Epiphany means “manifestation” or “revealing.” Today, through the Magi, Christ is revealed to us, the Gentile nations.

      Earlier this week, we heard in the readings several little “epiphanies,” where Christ was gradually revealed to the Hebrew people. Now it is our turn to share in their joy. We have been given our own epiphany.

      This is a big deal. What was once thought to be the answer for one tiny nation has become the hope of the whole earth! Isaiah declares to Israel: “the glory of the Lord shines upon you.” Then he goes on to tells us that “nations shall walk by your light…raise your eyes and look about, they all gather and come to you.”

      Paul explains this mystery by telling us, “that the Gentiles are coheirs, members of the same body, and copartners to the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel.” We have been “grafted in” to the family of God and now we can be His sons and daughters.

      The psalmist tells us that “he shall govern your people with justice and your afflicted ones with judgment…all nations shall serve him.” This is now a promise for us as well. This is our hope. This is our joy.

      The psalmist goes on to say, “he shall rescue the poor when he cries out, and the afflicted when he has no one to help him. He shall have pity for the lowly and the poor; the lives of the poor he shall save.”

      We forget sometimes how poor we really are. Somehow we feel that Christmas belongs to us, that it is our “right” to celebrate the incarnation because we are Christians. It is the opposite that is true! We are Christians because of the incarnation. The Epiphany reveals to us that we are not the original recipients of God’s gift of a Messiah. We have been “added in.”

      Rejoice today in the revelation that God has come to save all mankind! Rejoice that you have now been “grafted in” to the kingdom and you can be called “Christian.” Ponder the nativity scene and recognize your time of visitation. “Darkness covers the earth, and thick clouds cover the peoples, but upon you the Lord shines.”

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The Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph

Readings: 1 Samuel 1:20-22, 24-28; Psalm 84; 1 John 3:1-2, 21-24; Luke 2:41-52

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      “We are God’s children now.”

      Looking at the reading from the first book of Samuel, I am struck by the fact that Hannah, who had prayed so fervently for a son, now chooses to leave him at the temple. I can imagine the ache she must have felt in her heart as she left him there that day. I think she understood the truth that parents are only custodians of their children who have been given to them by God. The name she chose for her son, Samuel, literally means “asked of God.” She chose to give back to God what He had so generously given to her.

      The child Samuel would now dwell in the temple. What greater place could there be to learn of God and draw close to Him. The psalmist tells us, “How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of Hosts!” He goes on to say, “Happy they who dwell in your house!”

      Jesus, as a young boy, understood this truth. He tells His parents, “Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” I find it interesting that they do not allow Him to stay as Samuel’s mother had done with her son, but instead, He returns home to Nazareth with them.

      Here we learn something about family life. I have often heard the family called the “domestic church.” This is the place that God has now ordained that children be brought up in the knowledge and fear of the Lord. Parents must take the responsibility to teach their children about God, and to model for them how to live as servants of God, to “keep his commandments and do what pleases him,” as it tells us in the first letter of St. John.

      Mary and Joseph model for us what good parents should do, especially to “love one another just as he commanded us,” according to first John. The promise that they receive, John goes on to tell us, is that “those who keep his commandments remain in him, and he in them.” The psalmist confirms the promise for those who live in Christ and raise their children to do the same when he says, “Happy the man whose strength you are!”

      Parents, do as Mary did that day. As she “kept all these things in her heart,” you must do the same. Allow God to grow your love for Him so that you may pass that same desire onto your children, so that they may also be called God’s children. And know that if they are God’s children now, “what we shall be has not yet been revealed,” but when it is, “we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.”

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Fourth Sunday of Advent

Readings: Micah 5:1-4a; Psalm 80; Hebrews 10:5-10; Luke 1:39-45

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      “Blessed are you who believed that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled.”

      This line is spoken prophetically by Elizabeth since we know that Mary has just arrived and not yet shared with her the good news she has. Elizabeth knows it already. She knows exactly why Mary has come to visit her. I used to think that perhaps Mary had doubts or fears about the future and she sought out this older relative to give her some perspective, to bolster her confidence. Now that I read this line carefully, it is clear Mary knows exactly what has happened to her, and she has more than likely come to share her joy with this other woman who has a part to play in our salvation history as well.

      Mary is the perfect example of someone who walks by faith and not by sight. Her faith allows her to see beyond what our normal vision allows us to see. That appears to be a running theme throughout the readings this week. In Micah, Bethlehem is called “too small to among the clans of Judah,” yet “from you shall come forth…one who is to be ruler in Israel.” From this unlikely beginning, this ruler’s “greatness shall reach to the ends of the earth; he shall be peace.”

      In the psalm response, we ask God to “make us turn to you…and we shall be saved.” We know we are not capable of saving ourselves. We ask God to “rouse your power and come to save us.”

      In the reading from Hebrews, we see Christ explaining to us how we understand our world is not always the way it truly is. He has a deeper understanding of reality and can look past the typical ways we worship God. and thus take on His role in our salvation by being obedient to the will of the Father.

      Has God ever given you a promise? Perhaps that promise is not yet fulfilled? Have you stopped believing? Have you rationalized your way out of the original message you embraced years ago because it has not happened when—and how—you had hoped? Look to Mary as your model of faith regardless of the circumstances and know that the time of fulfillment is at hand. Wait for the Lord. Trust and wait. Obey His voice when He tells you to move. But obey His voice more when He tells you to simply stand. Trust in the promise.

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