Homily for Sunday, 7 December 2014

2nd Sunday in Advent

Readings of the day: Isaiah 40:1-5, 9-11; Psalm 85:9-10, 11-12, 13-14; 2 Peter 3:8-14; Mark 1:1-8

Who here has ever prepared for a long journey? What would we bring with us on this journey? We need our passports if we are leaving the country. We need enough clothing and footwear for the duration of the journey. We need the right kind of clothing. We need chargers for all our electronic devices; maybe a good book; personal toiletries; money…

Now who here has ever been on a journey when it is difficult to know what to expect or what to bring? I have been on some journeys for which I have found it difficult to prepare. As a junior in university, I studied for one year on exchange in Lille, in northern France. I worried for some time about whether I would be accepted for the exchange; whether I had the right paperwork to apply for my French student visa; whether I had enough money to last the year abroad. As a Basilian, when I went to Cali, Colombia to teach for the first time six years ago, I was even less sure about what to expect. I had little prior teaching experience and had not been to South America before. At least when I went to France, I could speak, read, and write in French already; I knew very little Spanish when I first arrived in Colombia.

Even worse than not knowing what to expect of a long journey, who here has ever prepared to go somewhere when we really did not want to go; when going frightened us? Fortunately, I have not had this kind of experience. But this was the experience of the people of Isaiah’s time; the experience of which we hear in our first reading today. This was also the experience of many people in the time of John the Baptist and Jesus in our Gospel reading.

Imagine the background events to our first reading: The prophet Isaiah wakes up one morning and is enjoying his cup of coffee when God says to him: “Say this to my people, Israel: “Give comfort to my people.” You have “received from the hand of the LORD double for all your sins.”

“Comfort and forgiveness of sins,” Isaiah thinks, “the people will be happy with this message. A man named George Frideric Handel will set these words to beautiful music in a few hundred years. This music will be called ‘The Messiah.’”

But then God continues: “The people are to go home to Israel. ‘Prepare the way of the LORD! Make straight in the wasteland a highway for our God!’ Prepare a way back from this exile in Babylon. Go back to Jerusalem that the Babylonians destroyed years ago. Rebuild it and make it into my house; a house of God once again”!

“Whoa,” Isaiah says, “Are you sure, God? The people will be afraid to go back to Jerusalem. I need to think over another cup of coffee, or maybe some of that mint tea that is so good here in the Middle East: How will I prepare the people to return home; to rebuild Jerusalem”?

“I know,” Isaiah suddenly jumps up, “I’ll remind the people of how much God cares for us: “Like a shepherd he feeds his flock… and [leads] the ewes with care.”

Isaiah’s message was for the most part a success. A small group of the people in exile in Babylon did decide to return home to Jerusalem; to rebuild the city and its temple as the house of God. These people prepared for and then set out on a journey back to a place where they did not know what to expect.

But this would not be the last time, in the Bible or in our time, when people would prepare to set out on a journey to somewhere or something they did not know what to expect. Our Gospel reading from Mark says that, just as “Jesus Christ, the Son of God” was becoming known, “people of the whole Judean countryside and all the inhabitants of Jerusalem” were going out to meet a man named John, who was baptizing in the Jordan River.

Imagine this: Probably most of the people going to meet John the Baptist did not know how to prepare to meet him; did not know what to expect from this man baptizing in the Jordan. John had a reputation for being a bit wild. He spoke loudly about repentance; about preparing the way for a Savior to come after him. He dressed in “camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist.” (This was the hipster fashion of the New Testament.) John’s personal hygiene was suspect. And long before low-carb, low-fat, high-protein, or crash diets were popular, John was feasting on “locusts and wild honey.” I have heard the John the Baptist diet is delicious and nutritious, but I think I will pass.

And yet despite his reputation as a wild man, there is something that draws us; attracts us to John the Baptist and his message. What is it? We are attracted to John even if his invitation to prepare and to set out toward the unexpected may frighten us.

Could it be that John’s message sounds a lot like that of the prophet Isaiah? “Behold, I am sending my messenger ahead of you; he will prepare your way. A voice of one crying out in the desert: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths.’” Could it be John’s humility with which he recognizes, “One mightier than I is coming after me. I am not worthy to stoop and loosen the thongs of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit”? Could it be that we know, as the people of John’s time knew, who this “one mightier than” John; the one to “baptize…with the Holy Spirit” is: Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior?

Like Isaiah, John the Baptist asks us to set out on a journey without knowing what to expect from this journey, or quite how to prepare for it. We know that our salvation through Jesus Christ is at the end of this journey. We know that this journey will change us if we set out on it. If we set out “to prepare the way of the Lord,” we will become more like the humble John the Baptist, pointing out Jesus’ presence in our lives; in the world; in the goodness and kindness of people around us. We will be moved to repent from our sin. We will be more like the prophet Isaiah, speaking truth to powerful and meek alike, urging one another to return home; to return to God with all our hearts. We will become more like the Lord Jesus himself, even as we are saved by him.

How ready are we to be changed by our Advent journey? How ready are we to prepare for what we are to become, more and more like Jesus himself; like our Lord and Savior? John the Baptist, like Isaiah, calls us to set out on a journey. The message of John and of Isaiah is attractive and yet unnerving at the same time: Prepare. For what (or for whom) are we to prepare? What are we to expect of this journey?

This journey is not like anything we could expect. We cannot prepare for it simply by packing our passports; enough clothing that is right for the weather, our electronic devices and their chargers; foreign language books for beginners… No, this journey, if we set out on it, will lead us through the unexpected; the frightening; the attractive moments. If we set out to “prepare the way of the Lord,” to prepare for what we will become through our journey, we will become more like Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior, and we will be saved by our journey with, through, and in Christ.

Homily for Friday, 5 December 2014– Ferial

Friday of the 1st Week in Advent

Readings of the day: Isaiah 29:17-24; Psalm 27:1, 4, 13-14; Matthew 9:27-31

Before restoring their sight, Jesus asks the two blind men in our Gospel reading today, “Do you believe that I can do this”? Is it not remarkable how readily the men answer, “Yes”?

I wonder how many people today would immediately answer “yes” if they were suffering some other affliction or illness and someone who could relieve their suffering asked, “Do you believe that I can do this”?

We know some people who would and who have had such faith and trust, not only in Jesus, but in doctors, nurses, and others to relieve their suffering. But do some people not give into despair, especially if they have been waiting for relief; for healing for a long time to no avail? If somebody were to say to another who had been suffering for a long time, “Do you believe that I can do this; that I can relieve your suffering,” would we not understand if the response by the person suffering were cautious or even cynical: “I have tried everything; gone to many doctors, and you say you can heal me immediately”?

And yet this is what Jesus asks of the blind men: “Do you believe that I can do this”? Remarkably, they immediately answer Jesus, “yes,” and they see again.

This scene in Matthew’s Gospel and our Advent season are an invitation to us to trust in God’s power to heal; to save. Our first reading, from Isaiah, also invites us to the same trust. In “a very little while,” Isaiah says, “the deaf shall hear…; the blind shall see”; evil and tyranny will be no more; the people will keep God’s commandments; revere God and love one another.

We could become cynical at this message. We could point to all the suffering and pain in the world and wonder why God has yet to act to alleviate this suffering. Or we could, as many of us do even amid their own suffering, notice as Isaiah says, “the work of [God’s] hands” already “in [our] midst.” Even better, we could be God’s hands of healing and alleviation of suffering in our world through our prayer, through our words, and through our actions.

God is already working in the world to heal; to save us. God gave us his only Son about two thousand years ago through a young woman, Mary, who also said yes to God’s prompting: “I will save the world through my Son, Jesus Christ. Do you believe I can do this?”

“Yes.”

We, too, are invited to say “yes.” We believe that God can do this; that God heals; God alleviates our suffering; God saves; that God is already doing all this. We say “yes” because we believe and we are here to show that God works through us. We are God’s hands in our midst; especially in the midst of people who are in need; who suffer. Yes, God, we believe you can do this because you are healing and saving us already, through your Son, through your Spirit, and through us. 

Homily for Thursday, 4 December 2014– Memorial of St. Barbara

Thursday of the 1st week in Advent

Readings of the day: Isaiah 26:1-6; Psalm 118:1, 8-9, 19-21, 25-27a; Matthew 7:21, 24-27

This homily was given during a Mass for the intentions of my grandmother, Barbara Schmidt. Although the Memorial of St. Barbara, a Roman martyr of whose life little is known outside of legend, was suppressed from the Roman (Church) calendar in 1969, her unofficial feast day is December 4. This day is officially the optional memorial of St. John of Damascus.

In whom do we trust? What differentiates the people of whom Jesus speaks in our Gospel reading who call out, “Lord, Lord” from those who trust and act according to God’s will; the people who build their houses “on rock” versus “on sand,” so to speak?

Would it not be great if we were always able to answer that we trust in God; that our will is always that of God; that the house of our faith is built on rock and not on sand?

We know of so many influences that draw us away from trusting fully in God; from doing the will of God; from co-operating in building up God’s reign of justice and peace; charity, goodness, and mercy on earth. These influences are cultural and social, economic, political, and moral. To do God’s will; to build up God’s kingdom on earth; to live a Christian life of faith is not easy.

And yet I think we do quite well here. After all, we are here. For every reason of which we can think not to trust in God; not to do God’s will, we see in our parish; our city; our nation; our world many holy, self-sacrificial ways in which people show trust in God. We know people among us who act, even heroically, according to God’s will of justice, peace, charity, goodness, and mercy.

But, I also think, we need the constant reminder, for those who trust in God and act according to God’s will, to keep it up with the support of our prayers as Church. And, for those who have failed to trust in God or to do God’s will, we need the reminder that God is merciful; that God invites us to repent; once again to trust in God and to do God’s will.

The tension between influences that draw us toward and away from trust in God and acting according to God’s will is not new. It has long been so easy simply to call out, “Lord, Lord,” and not to act to build God’s reign on earth. It is easy to trust that we have “a strong city”; to “trust in princes”; to trust in military might; to trust in other worldly institutions, and not to trust as fully in God as we are called to do as Christian disciples.

Our first reading from Isaiah says, “Trust in the LORD forever.” Our Psalm says, “It is better to take refuge in the LORD… O LORD, grant salvation”! These are prayers of saints; of people who have trusted in God and done God’s will despite many ways in which we can be drawn away from God.

We can look to the martyrs as ultimate examples of people who have given their lives to trust in God and to do God’s will. We can look to St. Barbara, whose feast we celebrate today. Without doubt we can look to many among ourselves as examples of people who trust in God; who have built their houses of faith “on rock”; who build God’s reign on earth; who are examples of God’s justice, peace, charity, goodness, and mercy.

Homily for Tuesday, 2 December 2014– Ferial

Tuesday of the 1st Week in Advent

Readings of the day: Isaiah 11:1-10; Psalm 72:1-2, 7-8, 12-13, 17; Luke 10:21-24

Do any of us remember our favorite stories as children, or maybe a favorite story we have read to our children, nieces, nephews, grandchildren, or great-grandchildren? How many of these stories employ vivid images or are set in a kind of fantasy world? I can think of a few favorite stories from when I was a child, some of which are now being enjoyed by my five-year-old niece and three-year-old nephew, that exaggerate or go totally beyond reality. They feature animals not behaving as they should; wild animals interacting peacefully with people; animals speaking; bright colors and images; strange things and places, and so forth…

When we hear our first reading today from Isaiah, are some of us perhaps reminded of these children’s stories? Isaiah seems to be describing a fantasy world: “The wolf” as “the guest of the lamb,” the leopard with the kid, “the calf, and the young lion” eating side-by-side in peace, “with a little child to guide them,” and the baby and the child resting and playing over the dens of poisonous snakes.

But Isaiah’s point transcends the fantasy world he describes in today’s first reading. Isaiah is speaking of the future reign of a king, a reign of peace and justice that will defy everything we have ever experienced. What will be the characteristics of this king? How will this king bring about a reign of peace and justice as has never before been experienced?

This king will bring about never-before-experienced peace and justice because he will be gifted with God’s own Spirit, “a Spirit of wisdom and of understanding, a Spirit of counsel and of strength, a Spirit of knowledge and of fear of the LORD.”

We have known a king of the kind Isaiah speaks; a king of justice and peace greater than our world could ever achieve. This king is Jesus Christ. But the king Isaiah describes is not primarily Jesus. No, we have all received God’s own Holy Spirit, “a Spirit of wisdom and of understanding, a Spirit of counsel and of strength, a Spirit of knowledge and of fear of the LORD.” How many of us recall receiving these gifts at our confirmation?

We are the rulers; the people whom Isaiah imagines will be given God’s own Spirit; will co-operate with God in bringing about God’s reign of justice and peace that has never yet been experienced.

Might some of us be thinking, “This is the height of fantasy; It would be unrealistic for us to be called to co-create with God a world of justice and peace that is yet to be experienced”?

This is not as unreal as we might think. Isaiah asks us to think with the imagination of small children. But let us not stop at imagining this Advent. Jesus Christ has already come once. He promises to return. We who have God’s own Spirit are God’s co-creators; called to reign with God; with our Lord Jesus Christ over a world of peace and justice never before experienced. This is not fantasy. This is ever more real.