My friends, once again, our Church Year has come full circle and Advent is with us.  Each new Church Year begins separate from our calendar year, ahead of time, to remind us perhaps, that what we do as Christians, as followers of Jesus, the Christ, our brother, and friend, is counter-culture, often times.  Is it counter-culture just because we Christians want to be oppositional? I would say, “no,” but more so because we humans tend to, for the most part, be more comfortable, “hanging with the crowd.” Our “walk” with Jesus demands that we be “uncomfortable” many times when most others choose the comfortable way out. 

   Perhaps a good story can explain this better.  Many of you are familiar with Eunice Kennedy Shriver, who in 1968, established Special Olympics with, I’m guessing, her own sister Rosemary, as well as so many others in our world, with learning disabilities in mind.  These really “special” children found, as they grew, that the world was really not a “friendly” place for them to be. 

   Lynn Schmidt, a political writer, and columnist for the St. Louis Dispatch wrote this past week a counter-culture piece addressing this issue.  The world of sports, in all areas is about competition and ultimately being better than all others, and unfortunately, politics gets involved too.

   The Special Olympics, while named as a competition, is more about comradery and support for all, “trying to do their best,” than about being, “better” than someone else.

   One particular athlete in the latest Olympics struggled to complete a 25 meter walk while using a walker—this is basically 80 feet! All those in the stadium began to cheer for him, as if he were the only one in the arena, to keep going and cross the finish line.  Schmidt said that when he did, “there was not a dry eye.”

   Rather than a crowd cheering for the success of the best among the best in the regular Olympics, this was the people cheering for the “least” among them ability-wise to be a success. So, what does this have to do with the Season of Advent? 

   In the beginning of this homily, I stated that beginning the new Church Year ahead of the new calendar year might be a way to lift up how our entire journey with Jesus our brother, will be counter-culture—we will be continually asked to stand up for the “least” among us instead of the “best.”  And incidentally, this will call us, “to be our individual best! 

   Advent has been deemed for as long as I can remember, a time of “expectant-waiting.”  Our culture, needless to say, does not do well with waiting. This is only too obvious in the way our culture “rushes” to Christmastime, totally by-passing any time of “expectant waiting,” when many of us come out of a Christian background.  We are not, as a culture, “patient waiters,” –we want it all now, and this is certainly driven by our commercialistic society. 

   But still, we as followers of our brother Jesus are called to go deeper.  Many probably look at “waiting” as a waste of time.  Kathleen Norris, mid-west writer with many books to her credit, speaks about “waiting” and “radical waiting” as “life-giving.”  Setting something aside, for a time, preparing for it over time makes us stronger, “gives us vigor,” she says. 

   So, what do the Scriptures have to say?  Each new Church Year rotates between the first three gospel accounts of Matthew, Mark and Luke, and this year, it is Mark’s turn.  As you know, Mark is one of few words: “Stay alert, be constantly on the watch,” is his message. 

   We humans, it seems, have the tendency to look for blame outside of ourselves, when things don’t go well.  This seems to be what is going on in the 1^st reading today from Isaiah.  Even though God has been there for this people over time—showing them the way to go, God seems to be blamed for, “letting [them] wander from [God’s] ways.”  It is Paul, in his first letter to the Corinthians that reminds them, and us that, “Jesus … is faithful.” 

   Now being “faithful,” it must be remembered is not about Jesus doing everything for us.  Jesus’ “faithfulness” is about, “showing us the way” by how he lived his own human life—he doesn’t ask us to do anything that he was unwilling to do.  You will recall that last week we celebrated, “not a king above us,” but a servant among us.”  Thus, as Jesus was counter-culture, our “walk” with him will call us, often, to that larger, deeper look at what is needed in our world.  Will that always be easy? No, it will not! But we have great shoulders to stand upon! 

   Evidently Paul’s community in Corinth was, as we say, “walking the talk,” as Paul was thanking God for all the “gifts” bestowed on them through Jesus, the Christ. I find myself likewise thanking God for giving us each other as a community wherein we can challenge each other to be our best, for ourselves, but for others as well. 

   So, in conclusion friends—let Advent into your lives these next 4 weeks, allowing for some quiet moments, even a few each day, to “expectantly wait,” amid some quiet preparations, thinking about how great a gift the Incarnation is! 

***An Advent disclaimer:  These next 4 weeks are not “Lent-light”—a pre-Vatican II concept, represented now, in most, if not all Catholic churches with the ritual color of purple.  One would be hard-pressed to find a diocesan church that doesn’t now use the color purple for these 4 weeks.

    We are a Vatican II parish, so our ritual color for these 4 weeks is blue, used in deference to Mary, our Sister/Mother, but also as a sign of joy as the time draws near that we recall—God-With-Us, Emmanuel.  If you use an Advent wreath during this time, you should use 3 blue candles, and 1 white candle—the white representing the “joy” that our time of waiting is almost over.  The green of the wreath is all about, “hope” in our loving God.  May this time of “expectant waiting” coupled with quiet, anticipatory preparation be a rich time for each one of us.  Amen? Amen!

My friends, parts of this homily I shared 6 years ago, and now, with some updates for 2023, hopefully, it is still meaningful.  Today, the Christian Church Universal celebrates Jesus Christ as King.  The trouble is, Jesus never proclaimed that he was a “king,” at least not in the way that people wanted a king. 

   It would seem, according to Ezekiel that Jesus came as a servant and a shepherd.   Jesus, the Good Shepherd, was out among the people tending to their needs, calling the powers-that-be to justice—challenging them to stop filling their coffers with the hard-earned money of the people, and making sure that everyone, especially the least among them, had what was needed to simply live—a clarion call to each of us today.

   We hear this in the face of the bishops in this country, and especially, Bishop Barron, in our own diocese of Winona, preparing to celebrate in 2024 an Eucharistic Congress, uplifting the elements of bread and wine on the altar—emphasizing the “true presence” in “flesh and blood” of our brother Jesus, with no apparent, real connection to his “body and blood” present in all of humanity, especially that we see this presence in the poor and down-trodden in our world.  

   Our seeming need to proclaim Jesus as king goes back to Old or First Testament times when the people then begged God to give them a king and God acquiesced because they were, as Scripture says, “a stiff-necked people.”  They constantly wanted, as we do, to make God into their own image rather than allowing God to be who God is. Even up until the crucifixion, the apostles, those who probably knew Jesus best, outside of his earthly parents perhaps, thought of him and wanted him, in fact, to be a king who would put down the Romans. They were thinking as humans think, not as God thinks, as Jesus once told Peter, but Jesus was calling them to so much more.

    The gospel chosen for today from Matthew describing the last judgment is a good place to start in describing Jesus’ true presence on this earth. Exegetes tell us that our task as commanded by Jesus is not to simply do humanitarian service, but to work at getting to the heart of why people are hungry, thirsty, homeless, in prison, lost and alone.

    I believe many of us do the humanitarian work as is evidenced in the outreach activities of this parish and that is good, but Jesus, who was not a king in worldly terms, but a shepherd, servant, brother, and friend, encourages us to indeed, get to the heart of the above problems—to see the faces of the people that go along with the statistics—searching out every lost one.  It is too bad that all the thousands of dollars being spent on the Eucharistic Congress this next year can’t instead be used for the “more present” body and blood of our brother Jesus in our world.

   If we get caught up in celebrating Jesus as king that puts the focus on him to save us from whatever danger is out there, and then the attention is shifted from our need to be engaged with our world, as he was with his. As you recall from last weekend’s gospel; we are called to risk, which will sometimes bring discomfort, even be messy at times.

   In a present-day news piece this past week, a man by the name of Jonathan McCory had this to say about “taking risks.”  “Live in the discomfort of your growth, or change.” This is akin to saying, as others have, “Be the change you want to see!” Even though this risky behavior is “messy,”  it is the way of Jesus, it is the way to peace wherein fear of judgment, in the end, is not a worry—in other words, if we walk in Jesus’ footsteps, judgment should not be something we have to be concerned about.  Jesus came to show us the way by being a servant and the example he took for himself often was that of a humble shepherd, one who cared for sheep who would often wander off, like us, get lost and need to be found.  

    Even though most of us aren’t familiar with what it means to be a shepherd as none of us takes care of sheep, the tenets of such work can be carried forward—that of selflessness, patience, understanding and love. We know that shepherds, men, and women were all about caring for their sheep, the ones worthy of the name, bringing them to good sources of pasture and water, binding their wounds when they wandered off, when they were lost, the good shepherds would seek them out, basically keeping them safe.

   This weekend calls us to see Jesus as our Brother and Friend—through the shepherd stories and the beautiful 23^rd psalm. We learn that our God doesn’t want to lord it over us, as a king might, but to be among us, that our God, as the Good Shepherd, will go any distance to find us when we are lost and will always listen, will always understand, will always love us. 

   This is why, the reluctance of Robert Barron, bishop of Winona, to meet with us, even answer our attempts to contact him is so disconcerting, and especially if it is true that when he was appointed by Pope Francis to serve as our bishop, he was quoted as saying, basically, that he wanted to get down and among the sheep!

   Therefore, it is good for us to reflect on this most comforting message of our loving God as a follow-up to last weekend’s parable of the talents wherein some of us found the harsh words of the master in that story, hard to take—that the rich will be given more and that “the more” will be taken from those who have the least.  This is definitely a Scripture message that we don’t want to take literally, as it seems to fly in the face of what we believe Jesus usually preached—in fact, today’s gospel would seem a contradiction to that.  Again, the context is so important. 

   In last week’s gospel, Jesus was trying to prepare his followers for the End Times and the harsh language was to impress upon them the importance of doing the right thing, now! Don’t wait, he was saying, in order to catch their attention. 

   A better way to look at the statement that the rich will be given more and the little the poor have, will be taken from them, is to get beyond the surface story told here.  Reflecting on what Jesus is saying in Matthew’s account of the Last Judgment, we have to believe he means more than the idea given at first glance in the seemingly, “offending” statement of the rich having more at the expense of the poor.

   When we do the right thing—that is, care for those with less and the other Corporal Works of Mercy, when we risk our safety at times for the good of others, when we use the gifts given to us, multiply “the master’s good” (as in last week’s story) in the world, we become richer as persons.  When we “bury the master’s good,” our gifts, and refuse to share in order to take care of ourselves, we become poorer, and the gifts given to us, do, in effect get “taken away.”

   That friends, is the beauty, perhaps the frustration of Scripture—the Spirit of Jesus is always, “alive and well,” so to speak, calling us to be open to more, to stretch ourselves beyond what comes to us at first glance.  Jesus, our brother, and friend certainly doesn’t promise that it will be easy, it will in fact be messy, but in the end, it will be life-giving, as all will be cared for.  We will have created a world worthy of the God who created us in love, gave us Jesus in love and has called each of us to do the same.

   So friends, today let us celebrate Jesus as our brother and friend, one of us, not one apart from us, which the title “king” seems to suggest. When we get familiar with Jesus as brother and friend and see, truly see how he was with others, it is much less easy to discount him or to not recognize him in the suffering humanity of our world.  We move forward friends, as we complete the liturgical year this week and prepare for another with the beginning of Advent next Sunday. May each of us be blessed as we share our gifts, our love, with our world. Amen? Amen!