Third Sunday of Advent

There is a different feel to today's liturgy. We see it in the rose-colored vestments and the rose-colored candle on the Advent wreath. We hear it in the upbeat music and joy-filled readings. Over the past two weeks, the mood has been sombre and penitential as we have reflected on the end of the world and our need for repentance in preparation for the birth of Jesus. Now, as that happy day of Christmas draws near, a sense of joy pervades our worship. Christ our Savior is near! The Church today calls us to rejoice and give thanks!

But very often that call to be joyful can fall on deaf ears. For many, these weeks leading up to Christmas are among the most tiring and stressful of the year. There is shopping to do, parties to attend, presents to wrap and dinners to cook. Sadly, many people feel relieved when the holidays end, and life can return to normal.

For others, the Christmas season can be the loneliest time of the year. The shorter days and cold weather leave many people depressed. Over this difficult year, many have lost their jobs or their homes and are not able to provide for their families. And for those who are alone or who have recently lost a loved one, the festivities of the season only deepen their sense of bereavement and grief.

Christmas is not always a joyful time for everyone.

The great Catholic preacher, Archbishop Fulton Sheen, once described his loneliest Christmas. He was a young theology student studying in Belgium. Unable to fly home for the holidays, he had to spend Christmas day alone, and it left him feeling empty inside. At first, he was tempted to spend the week of vacation alone pitying himself. Then, the thought came to him to ask a local pastor whether there was a poor family in town he could help. He was given the address of a family with several children. After making their acquaintance, he visited them on Christmas day with food for the table and presents for the children. Rather than feel sorry for himself and let his circumstances dictate how he would spend the holiday, he decided to reach out to someone even needier than himself and so experience the true joy of Christmas. What would have otherwise been his saddest Christmas was now transformed into one of his happiest through the joy of giving.

Archbishop Sheen's experience holds a very important lesson for us. Life isn't always fair. We experience the loss of loved ones. Our families are not always as supportive and attentive as we would like them to be. Our jobs don't always leave us feeling fulfilled. No matter what the circumstances of our life are, we can always find fault. But, when we focus on the negative, we become bitter. We start to close in on ourselves and lose our appreciation for what is good in the world. We end up imprisoning ourselves in depression and loneliness.

Saint Paul gives us the remedy for such bitterness in today's second reading. He tells us that we are to "rejoice always" and to give thanks "in all circumstances." Gratitude is not only appropriate for the times when we are glad or when things are going our way. Rather, gratitude is most necessary when we feel overwhelmed and joyless. By giving thanks, we are empowered to look beyond ourselves and our situation. By rejoicing even in the midst of difficulty, we take the focus off what is lacking in our lives and put it on the abundance of good things we enjoy. It might be as simple as being thankful for a warm shower or that our car starts. It might be as basic as being thankful that we are still breathing and able to roll out of bed in the morning. No matter how poor,alone or sick we may be, there is always a reason to rejoice.

Today's responsorial psalm is taken from the gospel of Saint Luke. It is the beautiful song of Mary called the Magnificat. "My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my Savior." Mary had just learned from the angel Gabriel that God had chosen her to be the mother of Jesus, the Messiah. Though not yet married, she was to become pregnant by the power of the Holy Spirit. It was the most important responsibility given to any person since the creation of the world. Mary found herself in a difficult situation, but rather than be overcome with fear, she overflowed with praise at the favor God had shown her. By saying "yes" to God and putting his will at the center of her life, Mary came to know the joy that is the fruit of the Holy Spirit. When we say "no" to ourselves and "yes" to God, we experience that same joy and overflow with that same gratitude for a God who has loved us enough to send Jesus to save us.

Gratitude is at the heart of Christian spirituality. When we are grateful, we recognize that all we have and all we are is a gift from a loving Father. By being joyful in all circumstances we demonstrate that our world doesn't revolve around our own comfort and well-being but around Jesus and his plan for our lives.

The word "Eucharist" is taken from the Greek word meaning "to give thanks". Every Mass is a thanksgiving to the God who has created and saved us. Every Sunday we become a joy-filled community. No matter what our circumstances may be - whether we are poor, tired, sad, or bitter - we gather around this table to give thanks. God has richly provided for us. And so, today is a day to set aside the holiday plans and preparations and to focus on what is really important and what is really worth celebrating - Jesus, who comes to us as a child and who wants nothing else than that we love him back.

(image from ringoutyourjoy.blogspot.com)

Poor Rosie!

Listen for my daughter laughing in the background

Dear Camille

Everybody has one - a favorite atheist, lesbian writer, that is.

My favorite is Camille Paglia whose column appears on Salon's online magazine. I have included a link to her column under my "favorite links".

Once a month, Ms. Paglia entertains questions from her readers. Feeling feisty, I penned her the following letter regarding "gay marriage"


Dear Camille,

As a new reader to your column, I was interested in your views on the gay marriage issue.

Though I was first apathetic to it, in the course of debate about it in my state of Massachusetts, I came to appreciate that the government has an interest in recognizing and supporting the uniqueness of heterosexual families as the building blocks, if you will, of society.

Simply put, society suffers when marriages and families suffer.

To give just one example, the decline of marriage and family life has contributed, in my opinion, to the deterioration of the education system which has had to take over many of the functions of the extended family such as providing daycare and meals at the expense of reading, writing and arithmetic (not to mention the arts).

Saving the term "marriage" for heterosexual unions would serve to recognize and support their natural function of raising children. No matter what one's morals, recognizing that it takes a man and a woman to have a child and that children do better psychologically and economically when that man and woman are in a stable, loving relationship is common sense. By extension, the more stable children are the less resources they will need from government and the more they will be able to contribute to society.

The names we give to things are important because they are indicative of the values we place on them. If the term "marriage" wasn't powerful and influential, gay advocates would not be fighting so hard to have their unions called "marriages". Saving the term for only heterosexual unions need not be an expression of prejudice but a simple recognition of reality.

From the gay perspective, I have often wondered why homosexual couples would want to take on the hetero-normative paradigm of "marriage" to define their commitments in the first place. By asserting that they are no different than heterosexual couples, aren't they arguing against the diversity they claim to value and aspire to promote? My inclination is to think that, if homosexual unions do come to be called "marriages", the gay community will eventually reject that term in favor of other symbols and ceremonies which celebrate the singular contributions of their culture.

When women first entered the workforce, they had only men to pattern themselves after. With time, they began to bring their own unique insights and contributions to their companies. At present, homosexual couples have only heterosexual institutions to pattern their lives together after. I suspect that, as the marriage debate evolves, they will likewise develop their own customs and ceremonies reflecting the diversity of their values and experiences.

Anyway, since my few homosexual friends are not keen on monogamy and commitment to begin with, I'd be interested in your thoughtful and sensitive insights in the matter.

With unconditional positive regard,
Doug

The Immaculate Conception

So that she could be a fitting mother for our Saviour, God willed that Mary be born without the stain of original sin. She was conceived in her mother's womb with the same innocence that Eve had before being tempted by the serpent. And she lived her life free from any thoughts, words or deeds which would have offended God or wounded her neighbor. Mary was completely and thoroughly pure.

With Mary, God begins His work of restoring nature to the purity He intended - the beauty which is a reflection of Himself.

Many have compared God's work of grace in our lives to snowfall which cloaks the barren tree, giving beauty to otherwise fruitless branches. Iced over with freshly fallen snow, the tree glimmers in the sunlight with a brilliance that its brown bark could not allow. The glaze replaces the natural beauty of the leaves and fruit which the winter has stolen.

But that image of grace presupposes that we are too corrupt to be restored. It presupposes a winter that will never end. Grace, in this image, cannot bring us back to our original lustre, but can only cover us over so we don't look so bad.

As Catholics understand it, grace is more like the sun whose rays warm the barren tree stimulating the bud, the leaf and, finally, the fruit. Grace restores the original beauty marred by the winter of sin.

If grace were like snow, our branches would never bear fruit. They would remain iced over, unable to thrive. But God wants us to grow and to reflect the beauty He intended for His creation.

The Marian feasts - the Immaculate Conception, the Assumption, the Annunciation - all celebrate not what Mary accomplished, but what God accomplished through Jesus. Mary, as the first disciple of Jesus, is the first to receive the benefits of Jesus' saving work. She is the first to taste the victory over sin by being herself exempted from its stain at her conception. She is the first to celebrate the resurrection of the body through her assumption into heaven.

What she has received is also what God holds in store for us. Like Mary, he wants to restore us to the sinless, pure creatures he intended us to be. We, like Mary, will one day know victory over sin when all the scars of sinfulness will be healed. Like Mary, we will know God's victory over death when our bodies are raised on the last day.

Saint Paul tells us as much in today's second reading from the letter to the Ephesians: God has chosen us in Christ from the foundation of the world to be holy and without blemish before him. For our part, we must strive everyday with God's grace to make our lives mirror the goodness he has restored in us through faith.

So, today's feast of the Immaculate Conception is not for Mary to celebrate alone. It's not like a birthday party in which only one person is honored. Today's feast is about the power and purpose of God's grace which restores the original beauty sin has deformed - not to cover over our shame, but to render us truly good and truly beautiful as God intended.

God achieved it in Mary so that she could be equipped with everything she needed to serve as Jesus' mother. God will achieve it in us when His work of restoration is consummated at our individual deaths and at the end of the world.

Second Sunday of Advent

John the Baptist is one of the key figures in the drama of Advent unfolding in these weeks leading up to Christmas.

The New Testament tells us that he was born around the same time as Jesus. His parents, Zechariah and Elizabeth, were very old and had never had children. One day, while Zechariah was ministering in the temple, the angel Gabriel appeared to him to announce that he would have a son whom he was to name John. As we can imagine, Zechariah found it hard to believe that he and his wife could have a child at such an advanced age. Because of his lack of belief, Gabriel told him that he would be unable to speak until the birth of the child. And so it was. Zechariah's inability to speak when he left the sanctuary made it evident to the people that he had seen a vision. And Elizabeth's pregnancy at such an old age made it clear that the child was to be great, that God's mighty hand would be upon him.

Many centuries earlier, the prophet Isaiah spoke about John the Baptist. We hear it in today's first reading. He would be a voice crying out in the desert to make straight a way for the Lord. He would call the people to clear out of their lives all the obstacles that kept God from being able to reach them. John preached a baptism of repentance, and the people flocked to receive it. They sensed that, in John, God was doing a mighty work. They didn't know all the details, but they did know that if they failed to listen, they would be missing out on God's offer of salvation.

Two-thousand years later, we still find the Baptist's call to repentance gripping and compelling. We have a sense that God has worked in our lives and called us to this place. We enjoy a lively sense of his presence and love around us. Yet, we must acknowledge that we so seldom live up to the great call he has given us to be light for the world and salt for the earth. The concerns of daily life crowd out the voice of God. The striving to earn more and to have more keeps our hearts from attuning themselves to their one great desire - to be united in intimacy with God.

Saint Peter warns us of this in the second reading. The earth will pass away. Nothing we have accumulated will have lasting value. Our true treasure is our soul and its relationship with God. Only that will survive our personal death and the end of the world. Knowing this, we must then strive to
live "...in holiness and devotion, waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of the Lord."

And so, we come here today, not unlike the throngs that lined the banks of the Jordan River, heeding the cry of the Baptist to make our crooked ways straight. We want to change. We want God to have more access to our hearts and to our minds. We want to put him at the center of our lives so that we can receive the mighty works he wants to accomplish in them.

We know how weak our resolve can be. We know how willing we can be on Sunday, but how distracted we can get on Monday. The source of our hope, then, is not our own will power and self-discipline. Rather, the source of our hope is the desire of God to have an intimate friendship with us. God's desire for us is so much deeper than our desire for him. And so he doesn't rest until he has straightened out our crooked ways. He labors to penetrate the defenses we have built around our hearts and the darkness that veils our minds.

John the Baptist made his appearance in Galilee to announce the arrival of someone greater than he, someone whose sandals he was not worthy to loosen. John came to baptize with water which can only give a superficial cleansing leaving us capable of getting dirty again. The one who was to come - Jesus - would baptize with the Holy Spirit. Matthew, in his gospel, tells us that Jesus would baptize with the Holy Spirit and with fire. Unlike water, fire changes what it touches. After something has been burned, it can never go back to what it was before. It is marked forever by the flames.

And so, we who have been baptized in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit and have been lit with the fire of the Holy Spirit through the anointing of our Confirmation, have been changed forever. There is no going back. We can't be unbaptized or unconfirmed. The gift we received through those sacraments can be tarnished and disfigured by sin and neglect, but they can never be lost. Our souls are permanently marked with the seal of the Holy Spirit giving us the foretaste and the promise of everlasting life. We belong to God, and he will never forget or abandon us.

The God who created us is coming to visit. He desires to sit down at a meal with us. Are we prepared? Have we confessed our sins sincerely and thoroughly? Are we determined with God's help to change the way we live, the way we treat others and the way we spend our time? God wants to do something great in our lives. If we can set our sin aside, we will witness it, and it will leave us speechless.

(Images: David Morris as John the Baptist)

Meanwhile...in Nigeria

While the world was focused on the spectacular terrorist attacks in Mumbai over the Thanksgiving holiday, equally brutal attacks were taking place in Nigeria.

At last count, over 200 people had been killed in sectarian violence which erupted following a rumor that the mostly Muslim, All Nigerian People's Party had lost an election to the mostly Christian, People's Democratic Party. The violence has also resulted in widespread property damage and the displacement of thousands of people now living in refuge camps.

News from Africa is hard to find in most of our country's major newspapers and television networks. As huge a continent as it is, it is easy to ignore. Africa's problems are so numerous and complicated that they can leave one feeling discouraged and helpless. I suppose that most people would rather not know. But they are our brothers and sisters. Who knows how their poverty and violence will eventually spill over to affect us. We chose to ignore Afghanistan's problems until we realized what a nest of terrorist violence it had become. Africa's problems will eventually affect us in ways which will be impossible to disregard.

For those interested in learning more about current events in Africa, I've found the best sources to be the BBC and the Christian Science Monitor.

Oh, that you would rend the heavens!

While working as a chaplain at Saint Anne's Hospital in Fall River, I was called to the emergency room at 2:00 am on a Friday night. A young man had overdosed on heroin which was making a big comeback to the streets of the Spindle City. The hospital staff wanted me to be there when the father came in to identify the body.

The doctors, nurses and security personnel were noticeably tense as they wanted for the father to arrive. Though they were used to sudden, tragic deaths, this particular overdose had them shaken.

About fifteen minutes after I arrived, we heard the whoosh of the automatic doors leading into the foyer of the emergency room. The humid night air rushed in like a gasp as the father walked in.

We were ushered by the security guard into a room where the young man lay cold and motionless on a gurney, a white sheet covering all but his yellow, chalky feet.

The nurse asked the father if he was ready. When he nodded, the nurse pulled the sheet up so only he could see the face. We all held our breath, the hum of the monitors the only perceptible noise.

The father said, "You finally did it! Good riddance!", then turned his back on the body.

A shocked "uh-oh" look came on the nurse and security guard. We were expecting grief and got anger. Of course, grief is just anger with claws, at least in situations like these. The difference is that with grief you can put your hand on the person's shoulder or hold his hand while he cries. With anger, you have to say something. So the nurse gave me a look as if to say, "You take it from here now, Father."

Right on cue I said, "He put you through a lot, didn't he."

"Oh Father, you don't know," he replied. "What I went through, all for him to end up like this!"

He went on to tell us about the sleepless nights waiting for him to come home, driving around the city trying to find him, bailing him out of jail, mopping up his vomit and washing his urine-drenched clothes. This man had given another man life and watched him throw it away.

His teeth unclenched, his shoulders rolled down, and his fists relaxed. It was all over now. And he knew that this was the only way it could possibly have ended.

I was reminded of a mother whose son was also a heroin addict. She flatly told me with cold resignation that she prayed that her son would just die. By no means was she a heartless woman. She just couldn't bear to see her son in such an undignified state anymore. It gives you some inkling of how devastating this addiction is to individuals and to families.

We stood in silence around the lifeless body. Then the nurse told the father how sorry he was for his loss and that they had done all they could to save him. The father said, "Thank you," and picked up a white plastic bag with his son's few belongings - an empty wallet and a watch.

I invited the father to a room that had been set aside for pastoral counseling. The anger was gone, so we could just sit together in silence. He decided to go through his son's wallet and found a health insurance card with the words, "Your health is important." He showed me the card, scoffing at the irony. Then he put his hands on his knees, stood himself up and thanked me with a sigh. "Well, I've got to go tell his mother." After going to take one more look at his son, he parted the automatic glass doors and was gone.

I thought about that man for some reason during Mass this weekend. Maybe it was the, "You do not know the day or the hour," or perhaps it was, "Oh that you would rend the heavens and come down with the mountains quaking before you!" I wondered if joy and hope ever came back into that man's life.

Then I trembled when I realized that God had used me to "rend the heavens" and to be present to a man in his tragedy.