Saturday, January 17, 2015

Homilía para el domingo, 18 de enero 2015

Segundo Domingo en el Tiempo Ordinario

Lecturas del día: 1 Samuel 3:3b-10, 19; Salmo 39:2, 4, 7-10; 1 Corintios 6:13c-15a, 17-20; Juan 1:35-42

Readings of the day: 1 Samuel 3:3b-10, 19; Psalm 39:2, 4, 7-10; 1 Corinthians 6:13c-15a, 17-20; John 1:35-42

Di esta homilía en la Parroquia San Juan de Dios, Santa Marta, Magdalena, Colombia. This homily was given at San Juan de Dios (St. John of God) Parish, Santa Marta, Magdalena, Colombia.


¿Qué significa en nuestras vidas escuchar, los unos a los otros y, sobre todo, escuchar a Dios? Estamos con frecuencia más dispuestos a hablar; tenemos la tendencia en nuestra oración misma de suplicar a Dios para nuestras necesidades más que de escuchar atentamente a Dios, ¿sí o no?

No es malo de suplicar a Dios para lo que necesitamos. Es lo que hacemos hoy en la oración colecta al principio de nuestra Misa. Rezamos en nuestra oración colecta: “Dios todopoderoso y eterno que gobiernas los cielos y la tierra, escucha con amor las súplicas de tu pueblo y has que los días de nuestra vida transcurran en tu paz.”

Otra vez digo: No hay nada de malo con esta oración. Reconocemos Dios como creador de todo, “los cielos y la tierra.” Ojalá que cuando rezamos por la paz de Dios estamos trabajando a llevar esta paz divino a nuestro mundo por nuestras palabras y acciones. Reconocemos (pienso correctamente) a Dios como Dios de amor; Dios fuente de todo lo bueno. Este reconocimiento nos hace capaces de rezar así: Dios, “escucha con amor las súplicas de tu pueblo”…

Pero todavía en nuestra oración al principio de esta Misa empezamos pedirle a Dios de escucharnos: “Escucha con amor.” ¿Qué pasa cuando Dios nos habla con amor; con murmullo inaudible dentro de nuestros corazones, y hacemos dispuestos a escuchar; a ser sintonizados a la presencia de Dios?

Entramos en la situación de Samuel en nuestra primera lectura de hoy. El joven Samuel, “durmiendo en el Templo” es dispuesto a escuchar a Dios antes que Dios se revela a él. “Es que Samuel todavía no conocía al Señor, y no había recibido ninguna revelación de Él.” Pero Samuel escuchaba y discernía todavía la voz; la presencia del Señor.

Su maestro, Elí el sacerdote del templo, no entiende hasta la tercera vez que Dios llama a Samuel que es el Señor que le está llamando. “Vuelve a acostarte,” dice Elí a Samuel.

Padres de familia: ¿Han experimentado, por lo menos una vez, cuando tus hijos no podían o no querían acostarse? “No puedo dormir,” ha dicho tal vez algunos de los niños aquí entre nosotros a sus papás. “Tengo hambre… He tenido un sueño malo”…  “Vuelve a acostarte,” ¿ha respondido tal vez algunos padres de familia a sus hijos en estas situaciones?

Entonces podemos tal vez empatizar con el sacerdote Elí en nuestra primera lectura. “Vuelve a acostarte,” dice Elí a Samuel. Bueno, si tu hija o hijo te decía, “Mamá, papá, escucho la voz de Dios y por eso no puedo acostarme,” ¿pensarías que tu hija o hijo estaba actuando de una manera un poco extraña?

Pero Samuel no deja de discernir la voz; la presencia de Dios llamándolo a su servicio profético. La tercera vez que llama el Señor a Samuel, Elí reconoce por fin que Samuel no está gastando su tiempo no queriendo acostarse a noche; que Dios está realmente llamando al joven. Y cambia su respuesta a Samuel. Luego Elí invita a Samuel, “Si alguien de llama, respóndele: ‘Habla, Señor, que tu siervo escucha.’”

También es nuestra invitación cuando entendemos la llamada del Señor de decir como Samuel, “Habla, Señor, que tu siervo escucha.” Haz tu voluntad a través de mí. Pero hay un problema: Normalmente la voz de Dios en nuestras vidas, lo que llamamos la revelación de Dios, no es así. No es normal que Dios nos llama por truenos del cielo, o que su voz sea audible: “Hagan esto. No hagan esto. Esto es mi voluntad para ti.” La revelación de Dios; de la voluntad de Dios para nosotros, no es así.

El día de la Navidad del año pasado, estaba predicando en mi parroquia en Rochester, Nueva York, en los Estados Unidos. Estaba nuestra Misa navideña para los niños, y entonces necesitaba que alguien, escondido en la congregación, sea la voz de Dios. Pedí al diácono de nuestra parroquia a esconderse en el coro y a ser la voz de Dios durante mi homilía, y aceptó serlo. Bueno, la primera vez que hablo nuestro diácono con la voz de Dios, los niños se pusieron un poco confundidos de quien estaba hablando. Pero sabían después de unos segundos que no era realmente Dios hablando; que nuestro diácono no es Dios. La revelación; la llamada de Dios no es normalmente así.

Normalmente Dios no nos llama como llamo a Samuel; la llamada de Dios es aún más sutil. La llamada de Dios es respetuosa de nuestra propia voluntad. Es normalmente respetuosa de nuestra necesidad de dormir a noche (aunque la llamada de Dios a Samuel es otra historia). La revelación; la llamada; la voz; la voluntad de Dios nos conduzca a la paz.

Sin embargo la llamada; la revelación de Dios de su voluntad para nosotros; de nuestra vocación mejor dicho, nos invita a escuchar atentamente. Escuchar bien a Dios no es solo escuchar con nuestras orejas. Es abrir nuestros corazones a la presencia de Dios en nuestras vidas. Es orar, pero no siempre hablando y suplicando a Dios. Podemos orar así: Pregunta a Dios, “¿En que momentos he sentido más la calma y la paz; la felicidad y la alegría en mi vida? ¿En qué momentos he sentido la tristeza o la distancia entre yo y Dios? ¿En qué momentos he pecado contra Dios; contra otras personas; contra mí mismo? ¿En qué momentos necesito más el perdón y la reconciliación de Dios? ¿En qué momentos Dios me está llamando a actuar como profeta en este mundo; profeta de paz; profeta de armonía en las familias, en nuestro país, y en nuestro mundo?” Y después de haber preguntado a Dios así, permanecen unos minutos en silencio. Acostumbraremos al silencio durante nuestra oración. No tendremos miedo entonces del silencio.

Escuchar a Dios se hace no solo con el oído, pero con todos nuestros sentidos y con nuestros corazones. Es el punto clave de nuestras lecturas de hoy. “Glorifiquen, pues, a Dios con su cuerpo,” dice San Pablo en nuestra segunda lectura, de su primera carta a los Corintios. “Glorifiquen, pues, a Dios”; escuchan a Dios con todos sus sentidos; con todo su ser.

“Maestro… ¿dónde vives?” preguntan a Jesús los dos discípulos en nuestro Evangelio de San Juan. Jesús les contesta, “Vengan y verán.” Ven y escuchan. Ven y abren tus corazones a la voluntad del Señor; a la llamada del Señor, porque será nuestra respuesta a Dios lo de nuestro Salmo de hoy; porque la voluntad de Dios será también nuestra voluntad: “Aquí estoy, Señor, para hacer tu voluntad.”

Aquí estamos, Señor Dios, dispuestos como Samuel; como el salmista; como discípulos de Jesucristo, con sentidos y corazones abiertos. Estamos listos para hacer tu voluntad, para glorificarte en todo lo que digamos y lo que hacemos: “Habla, Señor, que tu siervo escucha.”

Saturday, January 10, 2015

Homily for Sunday, 11 January 2015– The Baptism of the Lord

Readings of the day: Isaiah 42:1-4, 6-7; Psalm 29:1-2, 3-4, 9-10; Acts 10:34-38; Mark 1:7-11

How many of us enjoy stories or real-life events with a hint of mystery; of suspense? Is not the mystery novel genre successful for this reason? We are given enough information by mystery writers to keep us in suspense, guessing at the final outcome: Which character or characters will ultimately solve the mystery? How will the mystery be solved?

Upon hearing the readings we hear today for this celebration of the Baptism of the Lord, I think the prophet Isaiah would have made an excellent mystery novel or suspense writer; Mark the Gospel writer not so much.

Isaiah presents us with a “servant” whom “the LORD” upholds; upon whom the LORD has put his own spirit. Who is this servant who is given God’s own spirit? Nobody is really sure. Later, Christians would identify Jesus as this servant, but Isaiah likely had in mind somebody who would deliver the people of Israel of his own time from exile in Babylon that they were experiencing. What is this servant’s mission? Isaiah says of this servant, speaking for God: “I, the LORD, have called you for the victory of justice.” What kind of justice is this servant called to promote? It is a gentle and patient justice, but one that will nevertheless change the hearts of the people; show the people by the servant’s deeds of justice who their source of life and love is. And who is our source of life; of love; of gentle and patient justice? There is little mystery in this question. We know that the source of life; of love; of justice is the LORD himself. The LORD will guide the actions of the mystery servant of God’s justice identified by Isaiah.

Mark, like Isaiah, gets his story of mystery and suspense off to a good start. Mark introduces an important (although, we find out later, secondary) character, John the Baptist. Now, if our goal were to write a thrilling suspense story, would it not be effective to begin with a weird man baptizing a great number of people in a muddy river, the Jordan, in the middle of a desert? And so we have our weird but somehow compelling and holy man in Mark’s mystery, John the Baptist. The mystery deepens with Mark’s introduction, through John, of another character in this story. Indeed, this character will be more significant to the events that follow than John is. “One mightier than I is coming after me,” John proclaims. “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.”

If this were the television miniseries version of a suspense novel, this would have been an excellent “cliffhanger” ending to an episode: Weird but holy man baptizes in a river in the middle of a desert. He proclaims one to appear after him who is greater than he is; who will baptize not “with water” but “with the Holy Spirit.” Fade to end credits… Are we not in suspense? Who is this “one mightier than” John who is to appear?

But then poor Mark ruins the mystery for us much too soon. Spoiler alert: Mark says, “It happened in those days that Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized in the Jordan by John.” Way to go, Mark! Here perhaps is the reason why Mark became a Gospel writer, not a mystery writer.

The identity of the one “mightier than John” who baptizes “with the Holy Spirit” is no mystery; no surprise to us. The person John baptizes is Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior, the source of our life and our love; God made human. St. Gregory Nazianzen, the brother of St. Basil, says this about the Baptism of our Lord: “The Spirit comes to [Jesus] as to an equal, bearing witness to his Godhead. A voice bears witness to him from heaven, his place of origin. The Spirit descends in bodily form like the dove… and so gives honor to the body that is one with God.”

But there is still mystery left to reveal in this event of Jesus’ baptism. Not only is Jesus’ “body” revealed as “one with God”; Jesus is revealed by his baptism as one with us, too. St. Gregory Nazianzen says this of what Jesus’ baptism means for us: “Christ is bathed in light; let us also be bathed in light. Christ is baptized; let us also go down with him, and rise with him… Jesus rises from the waters; the world rises with him.”

Jesus’ baptism reveals him to the world as both God and human, fully divine and yet fully one like us. Jesus’ baptism unites us to his own death and resurrection, at the core of the mystery of our salvation into which we are baptized. In Jesus’ baptism our source of life and love is made known to the world. But this is not an end; it is a beginning.

By Jesus’ baptism; by our baptism we begin our participation in making Jesus Christ, our life; our love; our salvation known to our world. The great mystery that we celebrate by this feast of the Baptism of the Lord, then, is not the identity of the person baptized by John in the Jordan. We know who this person is. Our Gospel identifies the person whom John baptizes: “Jesus… from Nazareth in Galilee.”

No, the great mystery of Jesus’ baptism, and ours, is this: What, in practice, does Jesus’ baptism mean for us? How do we make known our life and our love, the presence of Jesus Christ, to our world? How do we “baptize” our world in this life and love of God made human and baptized by John in the Jordan?

Our first reading from Isaiah and our second reading from the Acts of the Apostles give us some idea of how we might do this. In Acts, Peter invites his hearers to be mindful that “in every nation whoever fears [God] and acts uprightly is acceptable to him.” If, by our actions, we are like God, this will show by our kindness to all people; our love for all people, rich or poor, of whatever race or religion; regardless even of whether these other people love us and are kind to us in return. We will make Jesus’ presence known in our world if we are as impartial in our love as God is; if we, like Jesus, do “good” and “heal all those oppressed by the devil”; oppressed by other people; oppressed by extreme poverty; oppressed by violence. We do not need to be doctors or nurses to heal. To heal the suffering and oppressed; to make known and present our life and our love, Jesus Christ, in our world, we need only compassion. We are invited to suffer with those who suffer; to be joyful with those who are joyful; to forgive those who seek our forgiveness.

Isaiah never says who God’s mystery servant is, but he does say that the “servant whom” God upholds “shall bring forth justice to the nations.” Christians later identified this servant with Jesus, but what if this servant is us? What if we, as God’s servants, were to bring God’s justice to the world; God’s kindness, life, love, and healing to where it is most needed?

What a mystery, and not just a mystery we read in books or see on television, but a mystery we are living! Nobody, I think, will complain if the outcome of this mystery is revealed too soon. Spoiler alert: We have been baptized into Christ. We are God’s mystery servant, the servant of “the victory of [God’s] justice,” kindness, and healing; God’s “light to the nations.” Jesus Christ has been baptized in the Jordan. We are now invited to reveal the saving outcome of this mystery; to participate in Christ’s baptism and, from it, mission; to make God’s presence known in our world; to baptize our world in Christ, our life and our love.

Sunday, January 4, 2015

Homily for Sunday, 4 January 2015– Epiphany of the Lord

Readings of the day: Isaiah 60:1-6; Psalm 72:1-2, 7-8, 10-11, 12-13; Ephesians 3:2-3a, 5-6; Matthew 2:1-12

This homily was given at Our Lady of Perpetual Help Parish, Sherwood Park, Alberta, Canada.



Who are these “wise men from the East” of whom we hear in our Gospel reading today from Matthew, on this feast of the Epiphany of our Lord? What is the significance of the gifts they bring: Gold, frankincense, and myrrh? Who are some other important people in this event? Today’s celebration and our readings for it present us with many strange details, words, images, and people.

First, our celebration today is called “the Epiphany of the Lord.” Strange words for five hundred (for our Daily Double): What is “Epiphany”? This word means a “showing forth.” We celebrate today the showing forth of our Lord to the world, only not as we would expect. God, our Lord, is shown forth as a tiny, weak human baby to the “wise men,” strange men from a strange land to the East, in a stinky stable, in a small town, in a troubled land under Roman occupation. This was the greatest “Epiphany of [our] Lord,” although it was not the first and certainly will not be the last.

And, again, just who were these “wise men” anyway? Tradition says that there were three because they brought three gifts. Do we not picture them dressed in fine and colourful clothing, as kings? But no one really knows who these “wise men” were, how many there were, or how they dressed, or whether they were kings or astronomers, looking to the movement of the stars for signs, or what exactly they did for a living. We do know from Matthew’s Gospel that the wise men have some idea of whom they are searching for when they enter Jerusalem. They ask, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews”?

We also know by the gifts the wise men bring that they know something of the significance of this child born in Bethlehem. The wise men bring gold, the gift for a king. They bring frankincense, the gift for somebody divine; for a god (in the same way that, when we use incense today, it reminds us of our prayers rising up to God in heaven). The wise men bring myrrh, a bitter burial spice. Myrrh hints that the story of this child, Jesus, will include bitter tragedy, indeed death on a cross... But death will not be the end of this story, for Jesus or for us.

But along with gold, and frankincense, and myrrh, the wise men bring another gift to the manger scene in Bethlehem of the Epiphany of our Lord. What is this gift? Might some of us be thinking, “Father, you aren’t going to tell us that there were actually four gifts brought by the wise men to Jesus, are you? Look: The Gospel clearly says that there were only three gifts”!

Fair enough, but then our Gospel reading says this: When the wise men “saw [where] the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy.” This, too, is a strange detail from Matthew’s Gospel: The wise men arrive at Jesus’ birthplace in Bethlehem: a stinky stable in a small town in a land under Roman occupation, and are still “overwhelmed,” not with sadness or a sense of fear (although they had visited Herod and may have known his evil intentions, and they did bring myrrh as a gift); not “overwhelmed” with fatigue for having traveled a great distance, but “overwhelmed with joy.”

This joy is the hidden gift of the wise men to our Lord Jesus at his Epiphany. Would this joy not also be a great gift for us to give to God and to one another: Joy that is itself God’s gift to us, a significant way in which God is shown forth to us?

Now, I understand if this is almost too much to ask of us to bring and to give another gift to one another or to God. Many of us have traveled long distances to be with our families and loved ones at this time of year. Those of us who have traveled have had to be mindful of weight limits on luggage, especially if we have traveled by air. With gold, frankincense, and myrrh, the wise men would have been charged unreasonable excess baggage fees. And the frankincense may well have been considered dangerous goods; would they even have gotten it on an airplane? So it is good that the wise men traveled by camel!

But I assure all of us, if we do not know this deep down already: Joy; the joy the wise men brought to the Lord Jesus in Bethlehem; the joy we are all invited to bring to our Lord today and always actually takes weight off, so there is no chance of excess baggage fees. And joy is completely duty-free for those of us who wish to carry it even across international borders; to any place in the world!

Joy is the gift that the prophet Isaiah once invited the people of Israel to give to one another and back to God. “Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you,” we hear in our first reading, from Isaiah. “Then you shall see and be radiant; your heart shall thrill and rejoice.”

How would the people of Israel of Isaiah’s time; a people who had been in exile in Babylon for about seventy years at this point, have heard this message? I imagine this as their response: “Rejoice?! Isaiah, are you joking? Here we are; we have spent two generations in exile. Jerusalem and its Temple are in ruins, so there is no point in going back there, and you want us to be joyful?”

And yet Isaiah holds fast to his invitation: “Arise, shine, for your light has come… See and be radiant; your heart shall thrill and rejoice.” It is an invitation that holds true for us today: Our “light has come. The glory of the Lord has risen upon” us. Christ has been born for us; has shown himself to the wise men, the face of God in the face of a newborn child, for us. Christ lived, served, and loved as one of us. Christ died for us; rose again for us; will return at the end of time for us. May our hearts, like those of the wise men; like those of the people of Israel in Isaiah’s time; like those of Christian disciples and saints through the ages, “thrill and rejoice.” Our “light has come”; our Lord’s Epiphany is here and now. Our Lord shows himself through God’s own gift of joy, our gift of joy to our world.

Many of us, I admit, may find it difficult, even (perhaps especially) during this Christmas season, to show forth this gift of joy to the world. Our world gives us many reasons to be anything but joyful: Wars, terrorism, and other forms of violence. Just days ago, an unprecedented nine people were killed in one day in this city in an extreme and horrific act of domestic violence. We experience broken families, broken friendships; estrangement within families; estrangement from the Church. Many of us feel every bit the strangers that the people of Israel in Isaiah’s time or the wise men in Jesus’ time must have felt when they lay their gifts before our Lord Jesus in Bethlehem.

And yet the wise men are an example to all of us: “When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy.” In a stinky stable in a small town in a land under Roman occupation, the wise men lay their gifts: Gold to our newborn king; Frankincense to God; Myrrh to our Savior who would raise us to new life through his cross and resurrection; Joy to the world!