Homily – 4th Sunday of Advent

 

A question my friends for each of us to ask today on this 4th and last weekend of Advent might be:  “Just what was God up to in the Incarnation?  I invite you to think about the anticipation of a long-awaited event—Kelly has been awaiting this night for a long time— when she could officially become a Catholic, others of us might have been waiting for the new Star Wars movie to come to Winona and now it is here, we might think of a long-awaited baby to come, or the coming of special guests—family or friends at this wonderful season of the year.  We have all been in one or more such times of waiting, and have experienced the almost palpable excitement for things to start.  That is where we find ourselves tonight on this 4th Weekend of Advent—on the threshold of something great!

The readings we just heard bring together the major themes we have looked at during the season of Advent:  promise, repentance, transformation and joy—and now we are on the threshold of entering into that joy.  A purely human manifestation for me that we are almost there comes each year when we put up our Christmas tree and decorate our house. We always do that about a week before Christmas and then, for me at least, we are at the point of having the preparations move into a special place. The quiet waiting is over –the joy is becoming palpable.  Family begins to gather and gifts start to show up under the tree—a manifestation of the felt love of family and friends. This year, because our Christmas family gathering won’t happen until late in January, our tree won’t go up until next week, with the hope that it will last until the long-awaited guests arrive, so our anticipation is on hold a bit.

So what is all this joy really about? What was God up to in the Incarnation?  Today’s readings show us clearly that Jesus, the Christ was born into ordinariness, if not abject poverty.  He appeared incarnate the first time in a backwater town, Bethlehem, who’s only other notable inhabitant up until that time had been David and no one of any import is known to have followed Jesus.  That should tell us a great deal about the man we Christians say we follow—not in greatness did he come, but in lowliness—a great sign of what his concern throughout his short life will be and what ours must be as well.

In today’s Gospel, we see Mary, a young maid, going to help her matronly aunt, who like Mary is with child.  Nothing unusual here, except for Elizabeth being pregnant in her later years.  Young girls would often go and help older family members.  But certainly there was more to God’s plan than this.   The two growing babies recognize each other from the sanctuaries of their mothers’ wombs. We catch the excitement through the Gospel words, “When I heard your greeting, my baby leapt in my womb for joy!”

Our loving God probably knew that in an unbelieving world where others would doubt the truth of what each woman proclaimed; they would need the affirmation and support of each other to confirm what each knew had happened within her as a response to her faith and trust in a loving God.  This is what Mary’s “blessedness” proclaimed by Elizabeth is really all about—Mary’s faith and trust in a loving God—and that this same God would be faithful to her—her Magnificat shows her to be a woman of strength . In addition, we are presented with Elizabeth, both truly women to emulate in our own lives.

Another question that we might ask:  why does God choose the ordinary to show us the divine?  It might be to direct us back to God wherein all is possible; thus in simplicity; we can see greatness.  If this is a problem for us, seeing greatness in the simple, the ordinary, maybe the problem is with us in insisting that the divine come in loud and flashy ways, rather than through the ordinariness of life: through babies at their mothers’ breasts, through children playing, through moms and dads, and grandparents, through young and old, through all the professions represented here as we go about our daily tasks to make our world better.  The readings today insist that the Incarnation comes to the most ordinary among us and all that is required from us is an openness to do God’s will—a willingness to answer God’s call.  The reading from the author to the Hebrews states that this willingness to answer God’s call and do God’s will was the motivating force in Jesus’ life.

Jesus is proof that God doesn’t want our sacrifices, holocausts, or sin offerings.  What God wants is our open and willing hearts.  Such was Mary’s heart in her “yes” to God as was Elizabeth’s in welcoming Mary into her home.  In the actions of both of these women, they welcomed into their hearts and into our world, the long-awaited Messiah.

And when did we ever need a messiah more than now as our country grieves the loss of so many this past year to gun violence.  Three years ago when we last shared these readings; we were newly grieving the loss of 26 children and teachers at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, CT—hoping that the deaths of 6 year-olds would finally cause our country to do something to take guns out of the hands of the mentally ill. But it was not to be.

The examples of Jesus, Mary and Elizabeth in our Scriptures today should give us a great deal of hope even in the face of the violence which we can’t as yet get our arms around, because if we follow their examples, then each loving action we personally do in faith says that the Incarnation has taken place—that Jesus lives within us and by extension then—in all of God’s people.  We have seen growing support across our country with such slogans as, “Enough!” and continued calls for more background checks.  Groups such as Everytown have sprung up trying to get people to see that while the violence may have been at Sandy Hook, three years ago, or San Bernardino presently, every town is susceptible due to the gargantuan proliferation of guns in our country—we have more guns than people in our country—350, 000,000 roughly!

I believe that what God was really all about in that original Incarnation was to come among us, be one of us, to show us how to be our best selves. I say “original” because you see friends, the Incarnation continues today if we allow it to.  It has been said, we need to give birth to Jesus in each time and place because each time and place needs God to come into our existence in ways that we can understand.

In the Incarnation, Jesus lifts us all up.  We are told that in the face of weapons such as are being used in these mass shootings, those immediately affected, could do little.  But in our daily lives there is much that we can do—advocate for stricter gun laws and allocate funding to adequately assist those with mental illness.

When we contemplate the Incarnation and all that it means; we must as a Church realize the travesty it is for us to ever, in any of our Catholic churches, deny people access to the Eucharist.  We then effectively stop the Incarnation from happening in those lives.  We, each of us, are the conduits for God’s presence to be felt in our world—we have an awesome responsibility to welcome all and work for the good of all, especially the most innocent in our midst, as evidenced in our Scriptures today.

Tonight we will be welcoming Kelly into the Catholic church as a full member.  All the years of her life she has lived the Christian way and in fact when we originally discussed her becoming a Catholic and talked about what was needed for her to make this step; I acknowledged that she was baptized a Christian within the Methodist church, confirmed, and that each of these sacraments we do only once so they didn’t need to be repeated.  But from the beginning, she was welcomed at the table here because at All Are One, everyone is welcomed if they want to join us in this way.  But tonight, Kelly’s reception of communion will be, for the first time, as a Catholic—talk about waiting and anticipation!

A final point that I think it is important for us to meditate on today, given our Scriptures, is the case of Mary and what it was like for her to be found with child in the society in which she lived.  Elizabeth addresses her as “blessed among women.”  Probably many in her neighborhood, if truth be told, gossiped about her and some even shunned her for what they felt was only too obvious.  It couldn’t have been easy for her—Scripture doesn’t tell us—but her family may not have believed her story—

Joseph didn’t at first.  After all, it was quite a fantastic story when one thinks about it—pregnant by the Spirit of God—carrying the long-awaited Messiah!  At the least, was no doubt, ridicule and shunning.  At the worst, a woman could be stoned in the streets for carrying an illegitimate pregnancy.

Mary wasn’t a remote, supernatural being, but a flesh and blood human that came to be called “blessed” through her willing response to God’s call.  Feast days like the Immaculate Conception remembered on December 8th serve only to remove Mary from the flesh and blood human that she was who struggled just like all of us.  As someone wise once said and I paraphrase, if Mary was without sin, perfect, in other words, she wasn’t human, and if she wasn’t human, then what does that say about Jesus?  Our God never had any problem with our imperfection—she/he, made us that way.  You know friends, we too are “blessed” when, like Mary, we believe in God’s promises, through all the ups and downs of our lives.

We stand now on the threshold of something great as we remember at Christmas time once again that divine love became more fully present in our world through Jesus, the Christ. We assure that divine love will continue in our world if we give birth again and again to Jesus through our lives.  Every time we try to be more understanding, more merciful, more gentle, more kind, more just; when we strive to see the divine in each other, even the most seemingly wretched among us—then and only then, do we incarnate Jesus once again into our lives.

I believe my friends, this is what God was all about in sending Jesus to begin life in poor and humble surroundings, to live a life that wasn’t about glitz and power,  in order that we would know that each of us can be instruments of God’s love, peace  and justice in our world. This is what we celebrate each year at Christmas time—the promise and the possibility of love born again into our world. Kelly, in a few moments, this is what you will be saying “yes” to. Amen? Amen!

Homily – 3rd Sunday of Advent

This homily is from Pastor Dick Dahl:

Today’s liturgy sings, “Cry out with joy and gladness!”

Think of times when you felt joy and gladness. When you graduated from high school or college? The day of your marriage? When your first child was born?

Joy can’t be faked. It’s either real or it’s not.

The first reading erupts: “Shout for joy…be glad and exalt with all your heart…Our God has removed the judgment against you and has turned away your enemies….Your God is in your midst, a mighty Savior. Our God will rejoice over you…renew you in love…Our God will sing joyfully because of you….”

The reading is from a brief book attributed to the prophet Zephaniah in the Old Testament. When Zephaniah wrote 600 years BC, the increasing weakness of Assyria in the north raised hopes that the territory which the Assyrians had robbed from Judah and subjected to foreign rule would be returned. This recovery, accompanied by religious reform was the salvation Zephaniah prophesied.

However he first spoke of the wrath and judgment of Yahweh – against the pagans but also against Jerusalem. Only then did he give Yahweh’s promises of forgiveness. For example, he said, “When that day comes you need feel no shame for all the misdeeds you have committed against me. I will leave a humble and lowly people. They will do no wrong, tell no lies, and the perjured tongue will no longer be found in their mouths.”

Six hundred years later when Paul wrote in 56 AD to the Christian community at Philippi which he had founded only six years previously, he was imprisoned. Despite his immediate circumstances, he called on them, “Rejoice in the Savior always. I say it again, Rejoice! Our Savior is near. Dismiss anxiety from your minds, present your needs in prayer, give thanks in all circumstances. Then God’s own peace, which is beyond all understanding, will protect your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”

So, in each of the first two readings the call to joy rings out in harsh situations—foreign domination in the first and imprisonment in the second.We are exhorted to put our trust in things that will not disappoint and change. God is here present in our lives now. Although we are still on our way, our journey through life, our saving God is in our midst.

I just finished reading the book “Pope Francis: Untying the Knots.” When he was still Archbishop of Buenos Aires, he washed and kissed the feet of drug addicts and patients with AIDS. Before getting down on both knees at their feet, he said to them, “This is a symbol, it is a sign. Washing your feet means I am at your service. Help one another. This is what Jesus teaches us.” After the ceremony and as he left, Francis told the young people, “Do not let yourselves be robbed of hope.”

Just before he left for Rome for the conclave that ended up electing him as Pope, he penned what turned out to be his last Lenten message to the people of Buenos Aires. Morality, he said, is not “a never falling down” but an “always getting up again.” And that is a response to God’s mercy.

In his homily on the first Sunday after his election as Pope, he said, “ Mercy is the Lord’s most powerful message. It is not easy to trust oneself to the mercy of God because [God’s mercy] is an unfathomable abyss – but we must do it. From Jesus we do not hear words of contempt, we do not hear words of condemnation, but only words of love, of mercy, that invite us to conversion: “Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.”

When Pope Francis launched the Jubilee Holy Year of Mercy this past Tuesday by pushing open the great bronze doors of St. Peters Basilica, he said, “How much wrong we do to God and his grace when we speak of sins being punished by his judgment before we speak of their being forgiven by his mercy.

Therefore in today’s opening prayer we ask our loving God, “Prepare our hearts and remove the sadness that hinders us from feeling the joy and hope that Jesus’ presence does and will bestow.” We can hear the echo of Zephaniah’s words mingle with those of Pope Francis: “Be glad and let your heart exult, for God, the ever merciful, has turned away the judgment against us, is in our midst right now as we listen, and renews us in love.”

Homily – 2nd Sunday of Advent

Friends, in the Gospel that I just proclaimed, we hear Isaiah’s wonderful words, “A herald’s voice cries out in the desert, prepare the way for our God, make straight every path.”  This message, every time I hear it, speaks “Advent” to me.  It is the quintessential call to my heart to begin preparations for so great a guest—Jesus, our Brother.

At this busy time of year, we might ask, “How do we celebrate appropriately and not get over-stressed?”  It would seem that we must each day carve out some moments of quiet and reflect on the awesome mystery of Jesus desiring to come into our existence and to be one-with-us—Emmanuel.  If we don’t, we might lose sight of this one key idea—the over-the-top love of our God in electing to become one of us.  We don’t want to get lost when this season is so much about being found—found by our God who loves and cares for us beyond anything that we can imagine!

Isaiah’s words are really all about preparing the way—making a straight path through the wilderness—filling every valley, bringing every mountain low—they are poetic words that really speak to hearts ready for change.  The people that John preached to were hungry for justice and a life wherein they didn’t need to constantly struggle to live under the oppression of Rome and others who had been invaders to their land.

Today these same words come to us who are hungry in some of the same ways. Many in our great land don’t have enough to eat on a daily basis, or a home to rest in, and be safe.  Across Europe, refugees stream in from the oppressive government in Syria, trying to out-run terror in their lives.

A portion of these refugees will eventually come to our country to find a home and safety if those who are led by fear can finally open their hearts.  This week we experienced yet another mass shooting that leaves us simply sickened by our seeming inability as a nation to stop this terror and mass destruction in the hands of people unable to even manage their own lives.

The words of John in today’s gospel proclaiming a hope-filled message to people hungry for this news—that the savior they had waited for so long, was about to appear—is a message we too long for, now!  In many ways, our world needs to be saved and we wonder what we can do.

It is hard to be patient amid the strife all around us, yet Advent calls us each year—now—today—to just such patient faith and trust.  Jesus, our brother, who came ultimately to show us the way, began as we did—as a tiny, innocent baby—small, yet with so much potential. As I watch our grandson grow and change, the Scriptures that speak of Jesus “growing in wisdom and grace” hold new meaning, not only for him, but for each of us.

Each year when we celebrate this miracle of love and total giving, we should be amazed.  The idea that our God would love us this much to want to become one of us is something that allows the most reserved among us to open up our hearts, even for a day or two, and see the hope that love can truly bring when practiced each day of our lives.

It is this hope that we must hold onto in the troubling times in which we live—wars being fought in many places around the globe, people in our own country that apparently choose the tools of terror rather than negotiation, the language of fear and even hatred for those who are different rather than the language of understanding and love; our seeming inability in the halls of Congress to find common ground and instead, pushing for singular, close-minded ideologies.

The readings chosen for this Sunday, unite us to our forebears, the Israelites—a nomadic people,  and serve us well today as we watch and pray for those from Syria fleeing oppression for the safety, hopefully, on foreign shores, in Europe and the United States. No doubt these present day refugees are people of faith—they couldn’t leave places of birth and all they knew without the trust that a good God was watching over them.  This theme continues then in the Gospel with John calling the people to prepare a straight way for their God to enter their lives—God comes in ways that we least expect—Mary and Joseph and baby Jesus were refugees.  The Israelites’ preparation was and ours must be about changing our lives—about turning back to God.

Faith calls us to this straight path—to change in our lives. We cannot look at suffering in our world and do nothing.  We must call the lie when we witness the lack of movement in our Congress and call them to the task for which they were elected—the work of all the people, not just the top tier.  We must challenge leaders in Church and State who call themselves “Christians” and do none of the work that their brother Jesus did! The beautiful season of Advent calls us to seek out the God of our hearts—to remember that God wants to be close to us, to get into our hearts and reside there—helping us to find our way, living our lives to the fullest.

But often, the path to our hearts isn’t straight, but cluttered with the distractions of life that we throw in the way, and it is hard for God to get through and for us to see God in the everyday, in the faces of those we meet, day in and day out.  We need to look often into our lives and check where we put the focus—are we always busy with things—always keeping active, so that no time is available for quiet reflecting, having a talk with our God about the bigger issues that our world faces and what She/He would like us to do about them.

I have always thought that the idea of gift-giving at Christmas coupled with the outstanding gift of Jesus to each of us works well together. But we must remember to keep it all in balance—the presents without Jesus are missing a key component and Jesus without the natural expression of sharing the love with others through our own gifts is missing something too! And the ways that we can choose to give are as many as the people that each of us is—finding ways that speak to our hearts and come from our hearts.  This week brought the wonderful news that Mark Zuckerberg, Facebook CEO and his wife, Dr. Priscilla Chan, upon the birth of their daughter, Max, made a gift of 99% of their stock in Facebook, $45 billion worth over their lifetimes to the newly-formed Chan Zuckerberg Initiative, something we are told will benefit many causes. Now, while we don’t know all the ramifications, this seemingly generous gift is moving in the right direction.  Most of us can’t give in like fashion, but each of us can give in the ways we are able.

The increasing joy that people of faith feel at this time of year comes from the realization that our God in Jesus comes to walk with us, showing us the way to life in all its fullness.   Jesus, Emmanuel, which means, as you know, “God-with-us,” chose to take on our humanity in its completeness, to walk-with-us, showing us the way to be truly human, as God intended, and as a result, to become more like God.  The two natures combine in Jesus—humanity and divinity with the sole purpose—to take us along.

We become more like Jesus Paul tells us in the reading to the Philippians by allowing our love to grow and through it our understanding and wisdom—his prayer for the Philippians is that their consciences would clearly guide them and that their conduct would be blameless. He prays that they will be people of justice.  The hope that he gives them is the realization that the God who began this good work in them, certainly will continue to be with them perfecting their actions. The same message is true for us and because it is, we cannot witness the trouble of our times and do nothing.  We must find a way to speak truth to the powers that be in our world and Church and demand of them and ourselves what Jesus showed us so clearly in his life among us.

While Jesus graced our earth, he was a light shining in the darkness and he came that we might better live. Let us use these precious Advent days to prepare for the best gift any of us will ever receive—Jesus, God’s Own, our human brother for the journey!

So my friends, our task during these holy days of preparation for the joyous feast of Christmas is to prepare a straight road for Jesus to share with us—a road big enough to give him room to be part of our journey.

I spoke at the beginning of my comments today about the “herald’s voice crying—prepare a way for our God” as encompassing the season of Advent for me.  Whenever I hear this scripture, I am reminded that it is time once again, if I have forgotten, to make Jesus more a part of my journey.  And this is a good message for us not only as we prepare for remembering Jesus’ coming into being at Christmas time,  but for each and every day of our lives, especially if we claim to be his followers.

It will be important for us to take notice of how he came into our existence—poor, vulnerable—as a baby, and that he grew in stature and grace.  Perhaps that tells us that our journey might be one of growth too—we won’t accomplish the task of being a true follower all at once.

We are comforted in this Advent season of hope as our spiritual family, the Israelites of old were, as they returned from exile; as the Philippians were by Paul’s message about Jesus—that surely this good work begun in each of us by our loving God will continue to be perfected now and until Jesus comes again. May we each be blessed today and for this awesome journey!

Homily – First Sunday of Advent

 

Those who have been part of the parish for a while know that I love Advent and for the newer members, you will come to know this fact. Advent is a precious time given us by our Church Universal each year to step back, and take a look around, at our world, but mostly at ourselves. It is a time of expectant waiting as we prepare once again for the coming of our God, as one of us, in Jesus, the Christ, who came to be our brother and friend—one who would save us by showing us how to live and to love.

Of course, for his original coming we look to the past to remember, but Advent is also a time to invite Jesus’ coming into our lives now, in a special way—each and every day.  And finally, Advent also calls us to the time when Jesus will come “on the clouds with great power and glory,” in the future.  We can only imagine what that will be like!

I read this past week that contrary to what we usually hear, that Advent is a time of waiting for Jesus to come; we might think about it as a time to go to Jesus—to get our heads and hearts around what it was for God to break into our human existence.  We have to step back and say, “Wow!”

Advent is also about reading the “signs of the times.”  Jesus tells us as much in the Gospel today. But are we to “read the signs” literally? Are we to wonder and worry when we see cataclysmic changes in the heavens and on the earth, such as the raging fires in the West this past year, the fury of tornadoes in the middle section of the country recently?   Exegetes tell us  “no”–that Jesus surely intended for us to look within and not without for the answers so needed in our world today—answers to war, pain, hunger, and suffering of all kinds.  Pope Francis is calling us to just such introspection and there are those in his own ranks, clerical types who are hoping his papacy will be a short one!

My good friend, Fr. Paul Nelson once, speaking on human nature said, and I paraphrase, when were we little, we didn’t know what people thought of us—when we became adults, we worried what people thought of us, in middle age, we grew to simply wondering what they thought, and in old age, we ceased to care.  Advent, my friends, is a time to reflect on what God thinks and what we think of our place in the world and of the work each of us is called to do in that same world.

It is interesting that in the early days after Vatican II, Christians were encouraged to “read the signs of the times.”  And many of us were very excited to do that because we were being instructed to not just be blasé Catholics who said, “Yes Father” without thinking, but to let the Word of God really take root in our hearts—to let that Word live in our lives, to question and to reflect on our personal lives, asking how our faith affected our day in and day out dealings with each other. It was in those days that we sang hymns like, “They Will Know We Are Christians by Our Love,” because such sentiment spoke of our intentions then.  In those days we were trying to let our faith make a difference in our lives and that was a good and exciting change.   Hopefully, that is still our intent.

Prior to the Second Vatican Council, Christians lived good and pious lives of devotion, but often times, we didn’t make the connection that what the Scriptures said to us on  Sundays, we were somehow supposed to apply in our day to day lives to really make a difference—especially where justice was concerned. But the Council changed all that—with a language we could now understand, we heard the message more clearly and more regularly, that yes, we laity, the folks in the pews, were to be conscientious followers of Jesus of Nazareth and his message of justice and love for all, and that it could and should affect our lives at home, at work and in our neighborhoods.  With Vatican II, we connected the dots, we became bold in the Spirit to challenge ourselves, each other, even our Church leaders, to be our best selves because it did truly matter that we lived out in all our worldly dealings what we said we believed on Sundays.  It was an exciting time because we became empowered to be true Christians—true followers of Jesus!

And as we have watched history unfold, it is sadly the lack of doing just this; talking, asking the questions, connecting the dots, having our faith, our liturgies, our lives make sense in modern times that caused a whole generation to walk away from the Church, because it ceased to make sense in their lives.  That is why it is so important that we don’t get stuck in the past, holding onto ideas while, they may have been comfortable because we had “always done it that way”—if they don’t help us to live fully the message of Jesus in this age, it is time to let them go.

John XXIII asked us to open some windows—to let some fresh air into our Church. This gentle man saw that rituals and practices long outdated, that lacked inclusivity of all the People of God, needed to go.   Pope Francis is striving to get bishops and other hierarchical types to remember that our God came among us so as to dispel the mystery of who our God is and let us know that God is indeed, Emmanuel, God-with-us whom we prepare for during this holy season of Advent.

Advent is and always has been a time of challenge—a time to prepare for a guest so sublime, but yet so like us, that we probably wouldn’t notice him on the street, should he pass by.  The way we would know him would be through his actions—Scripture tells us, on that first Easter morn—they knew him “in the breaking of the bread”–ultimately, they knew him through his love.  I would think that is how others would know us—through our love.

When we can make the hard decisions as he did, based on justice for all; recognizing women for their God-given gifts and calls to ministry along with men, (Francis says this door is closed, which also means, it can be opened, as my husband reminds me!) when we can accept and receive all people at our communion tables, regardless of marital status or gender differences and expression, (Francis has basically said in regard to marriages between Catholics and Lutherans that they can listen to their consciences, which opens doors I would say to many other issues) when we more often choose peace over war as a way to live with global neighbors, (perhaps we should dig out Pacem in Terris—the encyclical on peace from that wonderful man of peace, John XXIII and learn again, its wisdom) when we begin to more often respect our beautiful earth and work to preserve it for future generations, (as Francis teaches in Laudato Si) when we pay individuals a just, living wage and so many other things we could name, then we will truly see Jesus coming on the clouds, in power and glory because the kindom he came to establish, based on the love of his Abba—his loving Parent—will have finally come to fruition.

My dear friends, when Jesus came that 1st time, over 2,000 years ago, he gave us all we needed to be free, happy and fulfilled—he saved us by showing us how to live and to love—that is what we are preparing to celebrate at Christmas—a gift of complete love—a total giving of self.

And each of us is challenged in different ways to follow our call to make a difference for justice and for mercy—beginning December 8th, we move into a Year of Mercy, actually, an Extraordinary Jubilee of Mercy running December 8-November 20, 2016, promulgated by Pope Francis. For many of you, it amounts to having made the decision to attend this parish, putting up with disdain perhaps, from acquaintances and relatives, working from the fringes to call our Church back onto the path of Jesus. We are in good company as this Sunday, Francis calls us “into the streets” to march for global climate action.  There are marches across the country and world today. There is one in La Crosse and Rochester for any who may be interested in going. But whether you can go or not; we can all be aware that how we live does affect our world.    Advent, my friends calls us to this kind of commitment if we want our Church to be reflective of our brother Jesus.

When we can each truly follow our commitment to walk in Jesus’ footsteps, as Paul describes so beautifully in today’s second reading, when we can “grow and overflow with love,” then we will let that shoot of justice grow up in us, we will become the mature Christians that Vatican II asked us to be instead of the milk-toast Catholics of former years who didn’t realize they had anything to say about their faith.  When we are alive in the Spirit, we will be people who challenge when we see an injustice, even if the perpetrator is the bishop. No doubt many of you saw the ads calling forth those abused by priests to come forward. As sad as this is, it is the right thing that this issue be addressed now! Jesus asks this of each of us because he asked it of himself.

So, my friends, as we begin Advent today and move through this holy time; let us be open to the signs of the times, not cataclysmic changes in the heavens and the earth; even though our earth does depend on us noticing these changes and working to turn them around. Instead let us reflect upon cataclysmic, if need be, transformations within ourselves that would allow us to be, for our purposes here today, Gospel people, both when convenient and when inconvenient.  May we each be blessed with strength to be all that we can be and truly prepare a fitting welcome for our brother, Jesus.

Homily -Feast of Jesus, Our Brother and Friend

Today’s readings speak of kings, kingdoms, reigns of glory and power, and it is all connected to Jesus, the Christ, one, who in my read of Scripture, especially John’s gospel today, did not claim that for himself.  He takes pains in fact to explain that kings and kingdoms are the people’s issue—he is in fact more concerned about truth and says clearly that those who would follow him must be about truth too.

So then, we must figure out what “truth” is. In Franco Zefferelli’s 1975, epic film, Jesus of Nazareth, Rod Stieger, who played Pilate was most concerned about this question as he interrogated Jesus, recognizing him as a step above the usual prisoner that he saw.  So, what is the truth?  Webster’s tells us that “truth” is, “sincerity in action, character and utterance”—or in other words, what we say we believe, we show in our actions and in our words—we are pretty much the same in private as in public—our character is true.

Jesus, we know and believe, was sent by Abba God, our loving maker, to show humankind how to live, because for the best, or maybe not always the best of our efforts, we hadn’t yet got it right.  So Jesus came to show us the way, the truth and the life.

Presumably, if we would follow him, it would become crystal clear what we needed to do—how we should live our lives.  One of the speakers at Call to Action, Jesuit John Dear, in his quest and passion for peace and justice in our world, a world free of nuclear weapons, said that we should just read the four gospels and forget about the rest of the bible.  I took that to mean, keep our eyes on Jesus.

Given that, Paul’s letter to the Philippians, chapter 2, verses 6-7 gives us an idea of what Jesus initially needed to do—he emptied himself of divine privilege and became one of us.  From the beginning of his papacy, Pope Francis has been challenging the Church to be of and for the poor.  We need to then apply the notion of servant imagery to today’s feast, which we as humans came up with, and search our hearts about “why” it was done and if in fact, we do justice to Jesus, our brother, who appeared in our midst, as servant.

Pope Pius XI, in 1925 instituted the Solemnity of Christ the King to counter the rising tide of secularization sweeping the world.  If the intent was to draw peoples’ focus back to the image of a God who was stripped of all power and glory to join humankind in their earthly struggles, it would seem strange that the image of  “king” would be chosen—an image that connotes power and top-down authority over others.  But then, maybe it isn’t strange because for too long, the power-over, top-down authority, with little or no room for discussion coming from Rome, has been the norm.  At least now with Francis; we are seeing more of a chance for discussion and with that, the prospect of more equality, and once again, our Church might be of the people.

We might consider what was in the minds of the early Christians when they considered Jesus to be a king—in fact longed for a king who would save them from the cruel and selfish, power-hungry kings that were their reality. This thinking was part of it, no doubt, but as with other aspects of their belief; they took ancient myths of the time and rolled them over, so to speak, into their understanding of who their God was in light of Jesus.

The ancient Near Eastern myth talked of a cosmic warrior-god who defeated a monster and then thereafter reigned in glory in the heavens, watching over all of creation.  Followers of Jesus then took that image and transposed it in significant ways, namely that Jesus conquered evil in our world, not through more war and violence, but through his life of love and justice, mercy and compassion, sharing in deed and word where he came from and what he was about.  This is interesting as we struggle in our world to be free of violence as was perpetrated on Paris this past week and Mali, this week.

Our task then as Jesus’ followers would seem to me, to follow his lead.  Our challenge will be not to get lost in the pomp and circumstance of images of kings and royalty and trappings of power on this feast of Christ, the King.  Truly the glory and honor that Jesus is due today, and every day, is not about crowns and titles, but about deeds and purpose and that becomes the harder task for each of us. If we honor Jesus as a member of royalty and keep it all quite on a surface level, cheering on our king—it is easier then to allow ourselves to be creatures who live rather shallow lives.  We don’t then have to try and understand ISIS or try to find ways to stop the violence once and for all in our world. Because my friends, that is the real task, isn’t it?—to find the way to stop the violence, once and for all, knowing that violence only breeds more.

And if we see the truth of who Jesus, the Christ—the Anointed One truly was and continues to be; a man of sorrows and a man of joy—God, yet human, suffering and experiencing all that we suffer—demanding justice for all, accepting all, loving all—and if we say we follow him and this is indicated when we name ourselves, “Christian,” we must, we simply must strive to be like him.  And God knows that isn’t easy.  When people treat us badly; we want to retaliate.  We need though, to learn a new way.

In my mind, and others believe this too, this feast is really more, in truth, about celebrating not a kingdom where Jesus will rule, but a kin-dom where all are accepted, loved and appreciated; and that would be something to truly rejoice about!

It is appropriate at the end of a Church year and as we look forward to a new one next Sunday with the beginning of Advent, to reflect on who we have been this past year, of how we have contributed to the building of the kin-dom, here and now.  For most of us; we will probably have to say that we haven’t always done our best, but that in truth; we have tried.

Tomorrow history will record the 52nd anniversary of the assassination of President John Kennedy—a man whom in many ways stood out as a fine, capable leader, who did his part to encourage servant leadership—ideas of justice for all, compassion towards those less fortunate.  Was he a perfect human being?—no, but I believe he tried to make a difference for the better—this is our hope as well—to keep trying.

My friends, as we close this Church year, moving this next week into the celebration of Thanksgiving, reflecting and being grateful for all of God’s bounty; we arrive next Sunday at the holy season of Advent.  Tonight, we as a community of believers will celebrate a time of thanksgiving in a pot-luck supper lovingly prepared by our community—all of us. Let us be grateful for all this parish has been for each of us and for so many others that have benefited by this community’s generosity in reaching out to others. Let us be grateful to the Spirit of our God for helping us to form a parish  where all are welcome at the table, where all are seen as equals, from the youngest to the oldest—where no one’s status is more important than any other’s—pastor or child.  Let us be grateful for loved ones who have lived and loved and passed on to their eternal reward this year.

And now, this next week, as we look toward Advent, a time to gently prepare ourselves for the awesome coming of One who loved so much that he was willing to give up everything—all power and glory, to show us the way—let us strive to walk in his footsteps for our own good and for that of the kin-dom. And let the people say, “AMEN!”