Experiencing God - Giving Our Life Away 251

On Ash Wednesday Feb 26, we all began another Lenten journey.  As I was preparing for this talk, I realized that I have gone through Lents 52 times since my baptism in 1967.  I suspect many of you here have exceeded that number since I got off to a slow start.  The question that comes to my mind, and I throw it out to you is: When considering the number of Lents we have all experienced over many years, how can this Lent of 2020 be a special time of renewal for us?

A couple of weeks ago, Mary Anne and I did a five day retreat at Mepkin Abbey in Charleston.  The focus of my retreat was on a book written by a popular contemporary author Fr. Ronald Rolheiser.  In his book called “Sacred Fire”, Rolheiser described Christian discipleship at three different stages of life.  The first stage he calls “Essential Discipleship”. He describes it as the time of life when we struggle to make our own way in life, to find our own identity; that time we need, so to speak, to get our life together.  He says that before that time, we are at home with parents, family members and friends in a circle provided for us.  We are in a place that is ours, a place we can call our own; and assuming the right circumstances, a place where we feel safe and secure. 

But then we enter a time, usually in our adolescent years where we begin to over-throw our childhood home and identity, and strike out on our own. 

So we enter a time of restlessness, searching to discover our own place in life.  This becomes the time when we begin to develop our own circle of friends, explore opportunities for a career or vocation, and search for our own new home and family.  Eventually, we find ourselves to be at home again, with a new place to live, a career or life’s work, perhaps a wife and children, a mortgage, and all the responsibilities that go with.  At this time, Rolheiser says, the question we ask ourselves is no longer: “How can I get my life together”?  But rather the question becomes: “How can I give my life away?  How can I live more deeply, more generously, and more meaningfully?”  This becomes the time when we are entering the second stage called “Mature Christian discipleship”.  And I suspect it is the stage where most of here find ourselves today.  How can I live more generously, more meaningfully?  As Rolheiser explained in his book and I believe it to be true, mature discipleship begins when we begin to “give our lives away”; when we begin to live for others more than for ourselves.  Although this is simple to say, and maybe even to believe, but, I think you will agree, it is not always easy to live. 

You may recall that the readings for last weekend’s mass, the first Sunday of Lent.  The first was from Genesis, the story of Adam and Eve and how they succumbed to the temptation of eating from the tree in the Centre of the Garden. The Gospel was about Jesus and the temptations He experienced during His 40 days in the desert.  If you examine these readings closely, you will find that their aim is to lead us to that level of Mature Discipleship, a giving of our lives away and moving towards a healthy concern for others. But the focus of these particular readings is principally on the challenges that we face in getting there. There are forces around us that create a resistance to this path we long to follow as a response to Grace.  Perhaps this is one of the reasons why we need many Lents in our lives. It often takes a long time for us, not only to see, but to resist these forces that work against the movement of Grace in our lives.

The Gospel of Jesus’ temptations in the desert describes those forces as the world, the flesh and the Devil.  These are terms we are all familiar with.  In the many homilies that I’ve heard and read over the years, others have described these resistances as the three A’s:  Appetite, Ambition, and Arrogance.  Or some described it as three P’s: Pleasures, Power and Pride.  But they all mean the same thing.  In our allegorical story of Adam and Eve, we have a vivid example of a failure to resist those forces.

The tree in the centre of the garden, which is appropriately off limits, became so enticing to the appetites of Adam and Eve and probably their pride as well, that they decide to partake of it. And, as a result they lost the home given to them; they lost their place of security; they lost that special connection they had with God.  In our Gospel story, Jesus, although tempted to compromise His own sacred calling, refuses to yield to these voices of resistance.  And, as a result, He not only discovers a home that God has prepared for Him, but He gives His very life so that others like us, may share in this home with Him as well.  This home He calls “the Kingdom of God”.  I guess the question we are forced to ask ourselves, particularly during this period of Lent, is: When it comes to these forces, how am I doing in cooperating with God’s plan for me.   Have I let the appetite of pleasure, have I let the power of status, position and things; have I let the arrogance of pride, entice me away from that path of “giving my life away”.  If I am honest with my own personal reflections, the words of psalm 51 found, also in last Sunday’s readings, perhaps speak most clearly to me about this. 

Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love;

according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions. 

Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin.
For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. 
Against you alone have I sinned. And done what is evil in you sight.
Create in me a clean heart and put a new and right spirit within me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation and sustain in me a willing Spirit.

The last stage of Spiritual Discipleship that Rolheiser mentions in his book is called “Radical Discipleship”.  And it centers on the question of how we are meant to live out the final months, weeks, days of life so that our death is part of that gift we give to others.  The question we ask ourselves at this time changes from “how can I give my life away” to “how can I give my death away.  To understand this, we must again turn to Jesus as a model for us.  We speak of Jesus as both living for us and dying for us.  He gave us a double gift of both His life and His death.  Often we don’t distinguish between them.  He gave his life away for us through the activities of His ministry; through his teachings, through his healings, through calling His followers and giving them guidance.  But he also gives His death away through His passion. And are we not healed in a special way as we reflect upon His passion and death that He embraced with acceptance, with forgiveness, with a healing at its heart?  We read in Isaiah:

 “He was wounded for our transgressions; crushed for our iniquities; upon Him was the punishment that made us whole, and by His wounds we are healed.”  
Our acceptance of "dying well" can potentially be our last and greatest gift that we have to offer, particularly to those we love. As you know, many life-long resentments and animosities are healed between children and a dying parent during this most vulnerable time because dying moves us to a whole new place in our relationships. Those of us who have experienced being with a dying person knows the deep truth in this. Unfortunately, we stand in danger of losing it because of our current laws on medical assistant dying and the belief that ones value is only found in what we can produce.  But those who are dying can give life to those they love when they allow them to attend to their needs during this time of diminishment. So we give our deaths away by dying with grateful acceptance instead of bitterness, by surrendering to Grace instead of clinging to life.  And we can do this when we see that our dying is not an end but a means to that next step in our journey to our new home prepared for us by Christ.

Our journey of Lent of 2020 is that opportunity given to us by the church to ponder where we are in respect of our own journey in faith.  It is a time given for us to reflect upon what we may still be clinging to in our attempts to satisfy the restlessness we find in our own hearts. 

Over the years, I know that I have been able to let go of many things that were a hindrance to my spiritual growth.  For many of them, the advancing years of life left me with little choice.  But there are still things in my life, areas that I still cling too, and resist letting go of.  That is why I need Lent this 2020. 

As a good spiritual discipline, the ancient practice of fasting, praying and alms giving are as relevant today as they were 2000 years ago to help us in this task.  And if you look at them closely, they tie closely with the temptations that Jesus rejected during His 40 day journey in the dessert.  And when approached with the right intention, they are healing.  We fast in order to break the habits of the flesh and senses and their insistent need to be satisfied.  So we fast from those things that we have trouble giving up. We give alms, not to pat ourselves on the back for being generous, but to help break the addictive hold that money and other such things have on us. And of course, we pray. We pray for the strength to let go of our inordinate needs.  We pray, as in the psalm, to move away from a lifestyle that is self-serving and to discern God’s will for us in our outreach to others.  
As Rolhieser explains in his book, mature discipleship begins when we begin to give out lives away, when we begin to live for others and less for ourselves.  Each Lent, number 53 for me, and whatever number it is for you, is there to help us together find  our way to the home Jesus has prepared for us; a home He calls “The Kingdom of God”. 

Experiencing God 250 - Baptism of the Lord

For over two weeks now we have been celebrating the birth of Jesus. This weekend, however, we are changing directions. We are returning to the readings about Jesus during His adult life. Under the circumstances, it is appropriate that this change begin with Jesus’ first public appearance as an adult, His baptism by John the Baptist in the River Jordan.

In many ways, the story of the baptism of Jesus can be strange one for us. In fact, even John the Baptist was puzzled by its occurrence. We know that in previous Gospel accounts, John the Baptist had already spoken about Jesus as the one who would baptize others, not with water, but with the Holy Spirit and with fire. Yet in today’s Gospel, we have Jesus presenting himself to John the Baptist for this sacred ritual. John himself, of course, acknowledges his own confusion, and even suggests that this whole matter should be turned around; that Jesus should be baptizing him, not the reverse. But Jesus’ response to John reveals that He has something else in mind. “Let it be so for now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness”.

And we read that as Jesus comes up out of the water of the Jordan, what follows speaks clearly of that sacred Trinitarian relationship that He has with the Father and the Holy Spirit. All three of the Trinity are present and visible during this event.

This revelation, as the other gospel accounts also makes clear, is not just for Jesus, but for all present to see. And I believe it acknowledges two things: First, it acknowledges that Jesus’ baptism is an inauguration of God’s unfolding plan for His people, for us. This Trinitarian relationship among the Father, Son and Holy Spirit is something that we are all invited into. And secondly, Jesus’ baptism signifies the beginning of His own public ministry as God’s Son which eventually leads to the cross.

Most of you were probably baptized as babies and therefore would have no memory of the event. But through your participation in Catechesis and growing up in the church, you would have developed an understanding of what your baptism was for you. I was baptized in 1967 at age 21. And I have to admit that, at that time, I didn’t have a very deep understanding of what it was all about. During the years before my baptism, at different times, I had been a member of various groups, so I was certainly aware about group involvement and sharing a common interest with others, including family and friends. These groups would have had certain disciplines and certainly responsibilities that had to be shared by its members.

Perhaps I thought of my baptism as something like this. But as time went on, I soon discovered that baptism was so much more than being a member of a group. If anything, at least for me as an adult, it had more similarities to getting married. 

The purpose of marriage is not to share some common interests with a new spouse, although that may be part of it. We enter into marriage as a covenant relationship of love with our spouse and later family, in order to share our lives with one another. 

In baptism, much of the same thing happens. In baptism we enter into a covenant relationship of love with Christ our guide, and His extended family of faith, the Church. The Church becomes a living organism, where Christ is the head and each of us a part. In both marriage and baptism, there is a death to an old way of living in order to embrace the new.

That’s why the witness of Jesus’ baptism in today’s Gospel is so important for us. Where His baptism announced the relationship of love that exists with the Father through the Holy Spirit, our baptism announces our desire and willingness to be a part of that Divine relationship. Where His baptism inaugurates His own public call to ministry, our baptism signifies our own mysteriously incorporation into that relationship with the Trinity in order to respond to our own unique call in building up the Body of Christ.

By way of an analogy, St. Paul uses our own human anatomy to explain what it means to be incorporated into the body of Christ. Our own human organism is made up of cells and organs which must work together for everything to function properly. If you look at a cell under a microscope, you will see that it can be separately identified and can operate on its own. Yet its function is incomplete unless it works with other cells to achieve its purpose, usually as an organ. Correspondingly, organs must work with other organs in the human body in order for the whole body to function properly. It is of no value for one cell to say to another; "I don’t need you. I’m happy working on my own." Every now and again we have rogue cells like that. We call it cancer. And if they are not corrected or surgically removed, they will contaminate the surrounding cells and eventually the whole body. For all to survive, these cells must work together. In the same way, the heart cannot say to the lungs; "I don’t need you. I am happy on my own." Their failure to work together will destroy the whole body.

So it is the same for us who are incorporated into the body of Christ through baptism. You cannot say to me, and I cannot say to you; "Hey, I don’t need you." We all need each other. We need to work together, depend upon each other, in order to be Church, because through our baptism, we all have been incorporated into this living organism we call the Body of Christ.

One could argue that Saul (later St. Paul) was once a rogue cell. He persecuted Christians. And then on that road to Damascus, he was struck to the ground by that great light. The words that he heard that led to his conversion were not: "Saul, why are you persecuting those Christians?"  Or even: "Why are you persecuting the church?" The words he heard from Jesus were: "Saul, why are you persecuting Me?" The “me” is the Christ of which we are all a part because we have been baptized into a relationship with Him. And this relationship requires that we, as cells, be responsible for one another, to work and care for one another, just as Christ works and cares for us.

I would like to conclude with a quote from Fr. John Main which for me speaks about Baptism: “The mysterious thing about the Christian revelation is that we are no longer living as if we were exhausting a limited supply of life that we received at birth. What we know from the teaching of Jesus is that we become infinitely filled with life when we are at one with the source of our being: The One who describes himself as “I AM”. In the Christian vision we are led to this source by a guide, and our guide is Jesus, the person wholly open to God. That is why the Christian journey is always a journey of faith. But as we approach the center of our being, as we enter our heart, we find that we are greeted by our guide, greeted by the one who is leading us. We are welcomed by the person who calls each one of us into personal fullness of being. The consequences or results of our prayer are just this fullness of life; harmony, oneness, and energy, a divine energy that we find in our own heart, in our own spirit. It is this energy, often referred to as love, that is the energy of all creation. It is this energy of love that unites us and holds us together in Christ.

Experiencing God 249 - The Holy Family

During this Octave between Christmas and the Epiphany, we celebrate the Feast of the Holy Family.  Over the last several weeks, we have most certainly seen many familiar illustrations of the Holy Family.  We’ve seen Jesus, Mary and Joseph on the many Christmas cards given to us by family and friends. We’ve seen the Holy family in our nativity scenes at home and in church. And perhaps you were fortunate enough to see them also in the actions of the children at our Christmas pageant.  While each depiction tells us the same essential story, the question that I asked myself (and I throw out to you) is whether these familiar scenes represent the complete story of how we should see the Holy Family. Have we raised these familiar Nativity scenes to such heights that they have become, what we may call, “other worldly”, or just symbols of devotion.  Or can they be an effective influence and guide to our understanding of holiness as it relates to our own families in 2019.

   

This weekend, the Church puts before us this great Feast Day of the Holy Family, not primary as a symbol of devotion, but as a model of faith.  This model of faith of the original Holy Family is there to inspire and to guide us in the work that we must do within our own family on its journey towards wholeness and New Life. 

We call Jesus, Mary and Joseph “the Holy Family”, but that does not mean, for a moment, that they did not have problems. Just as we in our family circumstances have to face many problems, and work at ways of overcoming them, so also the Holy Family had to face and deal with the many problems that came there way as well.

 

We only have to read the scriptures to see the many difficulties they experienced, most of them greater than our own. And we all know the reasons for this.  They lived during a time of great persecution, when their land was occupied and controlled by foreign powers, and governed by corrupt rulers. They had none of the freedoms that we currently have in our own lives. No social programs existed to help them in times of need. From Matthew, we hear the story the Holy Family having to flee to Egypt as refugees because Jesus’ life was in danger due to the corruption of King Herod. So they were forced to leave the comfort of their home and land in much of the same way as refugees today must leave their war-torn countries to find safety in other places.  I understand that the distance from Bethlehem to the borders of Egypt is about 430 kilometers. To avoid the dangers imposed by Herod, they had to travel by donkey and on foot, which would have taken them many weeks.  It’s hard to imagine the hardships they must have experienced making this trip under such difficult circumstances.

What kept the Holy Family together, what kept them sane through these trials is the same thing that keeps us together during our own trials, even though they may be different in nature.  It was the love they had for each other.  It was the guidance and trust they had in the God of their ancestors.  Who else could did they have to turn too?  Who else could they reach out to for guidance and comfort?  They found in God, their own source of inner strength, a foundational rock on which they could build their lives. It was to this personal God they could pray and consult in the decisions they had to make.

 

And when you think about it, during our own times of uncertainty, during our own times of confusion, during those times when we are facing our own storms, who do we have to reach out to?  When we reach out to each other, when we reach out to God, then we model the Holy family; we become that holy family.  We discover in Christ our own foundational rock.

I believe at times we elevate the image of the Holy family to that “other worldly” plane because of the ways that we hear that God interacted with them.  After all, Mary was visited by an angel who asked her to conceive a son. And Joseph received his directions from God through dreams.  How often has this happened to us?

But the holiness we see in them as a family does not come from how God communicated to them, but from how they responded; how they were willing to step beyond their own fear, their own comfort and security to embrace the will of God.   Mary’s own great act of faith becomes the model that we are inspired to use in our own lives:  “With God, all things are possible. Let it be done to me in accordance with your will. ”   And Joseph’s willingness to listen through prayer, and to follow the course laid out for him, despite the inconvenience and risk to himself can become our own way of seeking guidance.

   

In our second reading of our mass today, St. Paul is speaking to the Colossians about holiness.  He is not talking about the Holy family but he is using them as a model of faith for the Colossian to follow.  He says:  “As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness and patience.  Bear with one another. If anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other. Just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.  And above all, clothe yourselves with love.”  These are the attributes we see in the Holy Family.  These are the attributes we can see and practice in our own families as well.

 Perhaps one of the greatest threats facing our families today is simply that we do not spend enough time being together, praying together.  We have become so busy with other things: working or socializing on the internet or watching TV that we seem to have less time to be with each other.  Spending time together is the primary way of showing others that we love them. 

And as St. Paul expresses to the Colossians: “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, to teach and admonish each other in all wisdom, but with gratitude in your hearts because you are called to be one body, one community.”

As we celebrate this Feast Day of the Holy Family, let us remind each other that faith and family is the vehicle for our journey that leads to wholeness and new life with Christ: In summary, they must include two things: the love we have for each other, and of equal or greater importance, the love that we each have for God. 

Experiencing God 248 - Living Our Beliefs

Today we celebrate the third Sunday of Advent, a half way point. As part of my own Advent journey, I’ve been following Matthew Kelly’s “Best Advent Ever”. Each morning, I receive an e-mail, with a short video of Matthew Kelly’s advent reflection. This week, he presented a question in his video for personal reflection. He asked: “Are you happy with the way the world is going?  And if you are not, then what can you do about it? How can you keep from becoming discouraged by all you don’t like?” It’s a big question for sure, and worthy of some reflection.

In respect to this question, there’s a story about Mahatma Gandhi that has always intrigued me. During the early years of Gandhi’s active but peaceful resistance against the injustices he saw in India, he began to gain some attention from the press. Journalists around the world began to wonder what he was all about, what motivated him to respond to the injustices he saw. During one of his press interviews, a reporter asked him: What do you believe? Which creed do you follow? Gandhi’s response was very revealing. He said “If you really want to know what I believe, then look at the way I live.” Then he went on to say: “Be the change that you want to see in the world."  

What Gandhi is saying from this statement, at least for me, is that I can recite a creed, I can follow a belief system or religion, I can know the dogma particular to my belief, but the truth of who I am and what I believe can really only be found in the way I live my life. When I see an injustice, something that requires change, then my life, my passion, and my energy can be found there.

In the gospel reading we’ve just heard from Matthew, John the Baptist is in prison. And we know why he is there. He has offended Herod son, Philip and Herodias who were in an improper relationship.

His honesty to them about their relationship has landed him in a prison cell. While there, in all probability, he has been kept abreast of what is happening in Jesus’ ministry.

As we heard in last week’s Gospel, John had previously declared that Jesus was the one who was coming to fulfill the Old Testament prophecies. He boldly proclaimed Him as the one more powerful than himself, that he was not worthy even to carry his sandals. But now he seems to have some doubts, some confusion at what has happened. Because of this, he sends a messenger to Jesus to ask: “Are you the Christ? Are you the expected Messiah, or are we to wait for someone else?” And of course we know how Jesus responded to John’s messenger. “Go back and tell John what you have seen, and what you have heard. The blind see again, the lame walk, the deaf hear, lepers are cleansed, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor.” In other words, “the truth of who I am, the messiah, can be found in the way I live. I am that change I want to see in the world.”

So how can this apply to us today?

We are not Jesus; we are not even Ghandi; but through the uniqueness of our own experience in this life; through our uniqueness as people living out our Christian lives, we can be or at least become that change that we want to see in the world around us. How can we do this? By using our lives, our passions our energies to inspire and create change where we see that it is necessary.

If we see a need for more peace in the world, then we must first become that peace within ourselves. We must let go of our own hostilities, our own fears, our own envies and our own greed. Then we can offer, even to those who may appear to be our enemies, the peace and acceptance that has the ability to heal. If we see a need for the world to be less compulsive and less addictive, then we first let go of our own compulsiveness, our own addictions. Then we can be that assistance others need in seeking their own freedom. If we see the need for more music and joy in the world, then become that music, become that joy to be heard and experienced in places where it may not exist. If our concern centres around the importance of family life, then be that best husband and father, be that best wife and mother. If the world needs to be more hospitable, then be hospitable to all that you meet. In this way the good news given to us through our Christian heritage can be alive and active. It can bear fruit in our own lives and in the lives we touch. It can become a leaven that will enable people to see that truly the Kingdom of God is at hand. Is this not in essence the mission of our church?

In our Christian lives today, we seem to be struggling with two perceptions of church. One perception is given to us from the media, in our news broadcasts on TV, and in our newspapers. It is a perception of church that has to do with power, often manipulation and abuse, underlining agendas; a church of “Do as I say, but not as I do”. This is not a perception I am drawn too. In fact I find it quite deadly and discouraging.

But there is another perception of church, for me the real church, that is more evident, and we don’t have to look too far to see it. In fact, I see it in so many places right here at St. Mother Teresa: In the Catholic Women’s League and the Knights of Columbus and the service they render to this community; in the St. Vincent de Paul Society and their outreach of those in need; to all those involved in our programs of sacramental preparation, catechetics, pastoral care and our liturgies of worship.

These are all signs of a church that discovers its identity, not through a reciting a creed, but through the way it chooses to live; to be that witness of Christ to the world. It’s the church that Jesus proclaimed to John’s messenger: “Tell John what you see and what you hear. The blind can see again, the lame walk, the deaf hear, and lepers are cleansed, and the good news is proclaimed.”

It’s the church that Isaiah proclaims in our first reading: “Here is your God”, he says. God will come and save you. Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped.”

It’s the church that St. James speaks about in our second reading where he tells us to wait for it with the patience of a farmer waiting for his precious crop to grow from the earth.

Matthew Kelly in his advent video says that, as Catholic Christians, we are not afraid to affirm our beliefs. Together we share that belief through the professing of our creed, but that is only one side of the coin. Our true identity as Catholic Christians will only be found as we live our beliefs,walk in our beliefs, become occupied in our beliefs. This is why people like St. Mother Teresa leave such an impression upon us. They are not discouraged or become immobilized by things in the world they do not like; but they become that change they want to see in the world.

Advent is our season of waiting; waiting for the coming of the messiah: not only in the Christmas festivities that we will all celebrate on the 25th, but in hearts open to receive Him, in lives that are changed by Him. Let us pray for that change in our own hearts, in our own lives, so as to be that visible presence of Christ in the world, to be sources of healing and peace to all those who may need it.

Experiencing God 247 Advent

Today, we begin a new liturgical year.  In the Catholic Church, the first Sunday of Advent is the beginning of a new cycle of readings at our masses, a new cycle of holy days and holidays for roughly the next 365 days.  It’s also the time of year that we are not only called to prepare our hearts for the coming of Jesus at Christmas, but also to examine our own lives; spiritually speaking to take stock of where we are in respect to our faith.   The readings we have just heard are very conducive for this very purpose.  The theme of these readings is very obvious to all of us.  As St. Paul tells us quite bluntly: “Brothers and Sisters, you know what time it is. It is now the moment for us to wake from our sleep.”  And as Jesus says in the Gospel of Matthew: “Keep awake, therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming”. Stay alert, keep awake, be vigilant How does that apply to us this first week of Advent?

Whenever I hear these particular readings about being awake, the story that comes to my mind is the “Christmas Carol” by Charles Dickens. 

We all know the story well since the movie version is played every year on our TV screens during the Advent season.  Ebenezer Scrooge may be physically awake, but in many other ways he is very much asleep.  Caught up in greed and his distorted perception of success, he is asleep to most things that are important for spiritual health and well-being.  He is driven by his incessant need to accumulate more and more until that moment when Spirit of Christmas future reveals to him the destiny he has created for himself.  And that destiny is a lonely death, an unkempt grave, and the loss of everything that he thought was so important.  And of course, this experience of coming face to face with his own death awakens him to see how much of his whole life has been spent as a prisoner to his own greed. But he has time to change and change he did.  He amends his ways, and moves his life forward in a whole new direction. 

In this story, Dickens greatly exaggerates the contrasts between Scrooge before and Scrooge after to make his point, which he does very well.  Certainly, none of us here falls within the extremes of Scrooge’s selfishness and greed.  But if we are completely honest with ourselves, and reflect carefully on our own lives, we may discover a bit of ourselves in this person of Scrooge; perhaps even that part that often forgets what is really important for our spiritual life as we get caught up in the business of ordinary living. 

This, I believe, is the message that Jesus is trying to convey to his disciples and to us in today’s Gospel. 

 “As the days of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Man.  For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage until the day Noah entered the ark, and they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away. So too will be the coming of the Son of Man.  Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.”

As we ponder the season of Advent, we can discover that the Lord comes to us quite unexpectedly in three different ways.  As I mentioned before, Advent is principally the time of year that we are called to prepare our hearts for the coming of Jesus at Christmas.  We engage in and celebrate the birth of Jesus, not only with our family and friends, but also as a faith community.  Here Jesus is revealed as an infant, fragile, humble and poor, born in a stable in Bethlehem. 
 
The second way he comes to us is the way portrayed in today’s Gospel or St. Paul’s letter to the Romans, often referred to as the “end times”, which could also be our own “end time”. It is here that Jesus comes in glory, with strength and victory.  St. Paul tells the Romans: “Salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers; the night is far gone, the day is near.” To be awake is to be aware and prepared as much as we can be for this coming of Christ.

But thirdly, Advent is also that time when we prepare for the coming of Christ in this present moment, to be transformed by His Presence on a daily basis through our prayer, through our participation in the sacraments where He is made visible to us.  It is here that we discover that he comes to comfort those afflicted: Those who may have lost a loved one, those who may be suffering from an illness.  And like Scrooge, it is here as well, in our present time, that we discover he comes also to afflict the comfortable: To remind us that some of our decisions, our way of life may be destructive to our spiritual well-being, that some of our priorities are mixed up.   It is during these times, we can ask ourselves:  Are there areas in my relationships with others; with my spouse, with my children, with my co-workers and friends that need to be changed in some way?  Are there areas in my own life, in my relationship with Christ, in my connection with Church, that need to be enhanced or reprioritized? It is here, in the now, that we are able to discover that Advent is not so much about all the busyness that arises at this time of the year, but it is about rediscovering the Christ who dwells among us, who dwells within us.  And through this indwelling presence, we are able to awaken and see possibilities that come through our faith. We begin to see that the Kingdom of God expresses itself in our acts of generosity towards others, of patience and understanding, in honest and unselfish service, and in the thousands of ways where people are striving and committing their lives for justice and peace.

Isaiah expresses this so vividly in our first reading as he describes a vision which is meant to capture our hearts and give us that hope we all need to live fully in God’s Presence.  “Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.  Where swords will be beat into ploughshares, and spears into pruning hooks, and nation will not life sword against nation.”  It is quite evident that we cannot accomplish this on our own.  It will only come as we invite Jesus into our lives and hearts now, as we turn to God and set our focus on His ways, His truths, and live that as best we can in our own lives now.

In the song, The summons, we hear:

Will you come and follow me if I but call your name?
Will you go where you don’t know and never be the same?
Will you let my love be shown?  Will you let my name be known?
Will you let my life be grown in you and you in me?

Experiencing God 246 - End Times

You can tell that Advent is just around the corner when we start to hear all those readings on the “end times”, or the end of the world as we know it.  Overall, many people today seem to have quite a fascination with this “end of times” theory.  You only have to look at all the movies on Netflix that are based on some earth shattering disaster and a suppose-it end of all life to appreciate this rather unusual fascination.  I recall clearly in my early elementary years at school some of my fellow students speaking about some possible catastrophic events that could lead to the end of life as we know it: The sun burning out, or some meteorite hitting and destroying the earth.  As we reflect on today’s scripture readings, perhaps it is a good time for us to ask ourselves the question: “How are we to understand these “end time” readings as a prelude to Advent, which for most of us is a season of expectation and hope?” 
The Gospel reading from Luke starts with Jesus and His disciples wondering through the temple in Jerusalem, and obviously admiring the beauty and grandeur of this structure.  We read that some were speaking about how magnificent it was, beautifully adorned with stones and gifts dedicated to God.  This reminded me of our recent trip to Ireland when Mary Anne and I visited the new Catholic Cathedral in Galway.  It was a magnificent structure completed in 1965 after six years of construction. It was huge with a seating capacity of over 1,500.  The floors were all made of marble from Connemara, a place close by in Ireland famous for its marble. The pews were Utile mahogany from West Africa, and the ceilings were all Western Red Cedar from the West Coast of the US.
Overall, it was really an eye catcher, and great for the many pictures I took.  Perhaps while there, if I had taken the time to listen to Jesus, I may have heard the same words that he spoke to his disciples in today’s Gospel:  “As for all these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; and all will be thrown down”.  With these words, I don’t believe that Jesus is denying the grandeur or the sacredness of the place.  After all, is He not the one who drove out the buyers and sellers who were turning this temple into a market place.
What I believe he is saying is that there is something much more important going on here than what you are seeing with your eyes.  What you see with your eyes is transient and passing in nature. Regardless of its magnificence and beauty, it is still an object of time, and time, in one way or another, will eventually erase all that from your view”.   But there is something much more important going on here that you are not seeing. So what Jesus is saying in respect to the fate of this magnificent temple, and his further statements on the apocalypse is not so much an explanation of the destruction of the temple, or end of world as we know it, but the unveiling of a deeper truth.  In fact apocalypse means unveiling. Something new to us is going to be unveiled; the curtain is being drawn back so that we may be able to see more clearly what is being revealed.
Therefore, our readings at this point of time before Advent become somewhat of a warning for us, a challenge to remain vigilant. 
What do I mean by being vigilant?  It means to be watchful, to be awake; not to be complacent to those things that threaten our relationship with God; not to be distracted by things that are impermanent in nature.
Malachi expresses this so forcibly in our first reading:  “See, the day is coming, burning like an over, when all the arrogant and all evildoers will be stubble.  But for you who revere my name, the sun of righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings.”  What is it that is being unveiled to us as we hear these somewhat harsh but prophetic words from Malachi? 
As we move into Advent, our season of expectation and hope, and then into Lent and Easter, we discover what is being unveiled; “we discover the rising of the sun of righteousness with healing in its wings.”
The disciples, of course, respond to Jesus’ statement in the same manner as we often do our selves.  They asked Him: “Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the signs that this “end” is about to take place?”  And Jesus then goes into three things that they can expect to happen, and perhaps we can expect them to happen to us as well. 
1. Many will come in His name claiming the “end is near.  His advice: Don’t go after them; pay no attention to them. 
2.  There will be wars and insurrections, earthquakes, famines, plagues, but the end will not follow immediately. 
3.  For those who revere the name of Jesus, who open their lives to Him, they will experience resistance from those who do not.  Some will even be arrested, persecuted, put and prison and may even die because of it. What does Jesus ask us to do? He asks us to witness to the truth. Rely upon Him to give us the words we are to say; rely on the wisdom that comes from the Holy Spirit, a wisdom that our opponents cannot withstand or contradict.  The Gospel concludes with the very affirming words:  “Not a hair of your head will perish.  By your endurance you will gain your souls.” 
So in summary what are we to do in these in-between times: To remain vigilant.  To be seekers and witnesses to the truth: To place our reliance on Christ and the Holy Spirit to guide us in carrying out our daily responsibilities: And as St. Paul suggests in our second reading to the Thessalonians: “Work quietly to earn your own living; labor so as not to be a burden on others.”  Don’t be busybodies, living in idleness, as if some catastrophic event were about to be-fall you”.  After all, we are first and foremost advent people.  Our identities as Catholic Christians are founded on the hope, the expectation of Christ’s coming, and His daily abiding presence in our lives.
In one of the Dartmouth churches, hanging on a wall, there’s a banner with a scripture reading that I read as a reminder whenever I go there.  It is from the prophet Micah:   “O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you: Only three things: To act justly, to love tenderly, and to walk humbly with your God.”
When we do these three things, then we build our house on a foundation of rock, that neither rain nor wind can disturb. 
“Not a hair of your head will perish.  By your endurance you will gain your souls.” 

Experiencing God 245 - Thanksgiving

Welcome to our Thanksgiving mass.  Thanksgiving day provides for us, not only an opportunity to gather around a dinner table and share time with family and friends, but also a chance to thank the one who makes it all possible. We gather here this morning to give thanks to God, because everything that we have has been ultimately gifted to us in and through Him.

Meister Eckhert, a German mystic once wrote:  “If the only prayer you ever say in our whole life is ‘thank-you’, then that will suffice’.  You see, we cannot be thankful if nothing has been given to us.  Therefore to be a thankful, we must first understand and know that there is a source behind all good things that come our way.  Good things just do not happen by coincidence.  Good things are given to us by someone, and as Catholic Christians, we know who that someone is.  A thankful person recognizes this, and with this recognition comes that great attribute of gratitude.  Have you ever been with someone who is filled with gratitude, a gratitude for life?  We all have, and we know they are a joy to be with.  You are that joy when you share the virtue of gratitude with others.
When I was looking through the different options for Gospel readings for Thanksgiving, I discovered that the most popular one is the story of Jesus healing the ten lepers.   
In this story, as you know, only one comes back to express his gratitude directly to Jesus for being cleansed.  This Gospel is perfect lead-in to speak about the power and the joy of heart-felt gratitude.  But I ended up opting for the Gospel from Matthew; the one you have just heard.  I did this after asking myself a question.  And I throw out this question to you. “What is the greatest gift that you are thankful for this thanksgiving in 2019?  What fills your heart with the greatest sense of gratitude?  The answer that came immediately to my mind as I asked this question was the gift of faith.  Today, we hear Jesus saying in the Gospel:  “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent, and have revealed them to infants.  What has the Father hidden from the so called wise and the intelligent of the world?  What has the Father revealed to mere infants?  It is this mysterious ability to be able to see through the eyes of faith, to see God’s presence and at work in all things. I believe Jesus’ reference to the so called wise and learned is probably directed to the Scribes and Pharisees who got so caught up in the thousands of rules and regulations that though they had to follow, along with everyone else, that they lost sight of God’s presence in the world and the people all around them.    
All things have been handed to me by my Father, Jesus says; and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom I choose to reveal Him. 
We are so blessed to have our gift of faith in the Father who Jesus chooses to reveal to us on a daily basis.  We are fortunate to be able to receive Jesus so personally in the Eucharist, to be forgiven through the sacrament of reconciliation, to be blessed in the sacraments of marriage and orders.  Everything that gives witness to our lives as being special springs from this gift of faith freely given to us by Jesus. In fact, for me, it is only by looking at life through this lens of faith that everything else in this somewhat crazy world begins to make sense.  And in spite of the fact that there is much darkness in the world around us, we can live with thankfulness. We can live in gratitude.
To be a thankful person means firstly that we understand and know, in a heart-felt way, that it is through faith that we discover the source behind the good things that come our way.  The blessings of our family, the blessings of our faith community, our good fortune as Haligonians and Canadians, the joy of the friendships we share with one another. It is through these blessing from God that we can live in gratitude and live out that commission with one another that St. Paul explains in his letter to the Colossians. 
As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness and patience.  Bear with one another, and if anyone has a complaint against another, then forgive that person just as the Lord has forgiven you.  Teach and admonish one another in wisdom and with gratitude in your hearts.”   
During this Eucharistic celebration where we are able once again to invite Jesus into our hearts, let us also remember those who perhaps are not doing as we as we are ourselves. 
We remember those who may not have enough food, those who have lost so much in natural disasters, and those who have lost loved ones who will be missed at their Thanksgiving table.  Through their own gift of faith, let us pray that they may, with open hearts, accept Jesus’ invitation as we have heard in today’s Gospel.  “Come to me all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens.  And I will give you rest.”