Jesus said, “I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father.” Aristotle, who lived some three hundred years before Jesus, asked the question, “What is a friend?” And his answer seems to capture what Jesus had in mind: a friend is a “single soul dwelling in two bodies.” This implies a closeness that is an “indwelling” of one another. We can see this in our relationship with Jesus, but it can also come into being between two people. This is an idea that we can learn from others, such as Dietrich Bonhoeffer (Life Together) and Thomas Merton, and also from our saint for today, Aelred of Rievaulx.
Aelred lived during the twelfth century, dying on this day in year 1167. He was a monk and later the abbot at the monastery of Rievaulx in Yorkshire, England. He is the author of several works, but perhaps his most known is the short, three part book, Spiritual Friendship. In the introduction of the Liturgical Press edition, the editor states: Aelred “writes of the sacramental essence of friendship—the way in which men and women may by loving one another embrace Christ in this life and enjoy eternal friendship with God in time to come.”
Aelred, like Aristotle, believes that true friendship is the making of two into one. He writes, “Friendship is that virtue by which spirits are bound by ties of love and sweetness and out of many are made one.” That sounds very close to what we hear in the book of Genesis and the marriage vows and I believe that is exactly what Aelred has in mind: friendship with another as close as a friendship with a spouse.
He tells us that “No medicine is more valuable, none more efficacious, none better suited to the cure of all our temporal ills than a friend to whom we may turn for consolation in time of trouble, and with whom we may share our happiness in time of joy.”
In addition, he sees nothing wrong with having what we might call a best friend, writing, “Divine authority commands that many more be received to the clasp of charity than to the embrace of friendship. By the law of charity we are ordered to welcome to the bosom of love not only our friends but also our enemies. But we call friends only those to whom we have no qualm about entrusting our heart and all its contents, while these friends are bound to us in turn by the same inviolable law of loyalty and trustworthiness.” Love demands that we love and pray even for our enemies, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to pour out our hearts to our enemies or just anyone else that sits down beside us, therefore, a friendship is something that includes love, but is also beyond love, for in a friend we find another part of ourselves.
In the words of Winnie the Pooh, “A day without a friend is like a pot without a single drop of honey left inside.” I pray that your honey pot is running over.
Boudreaux wanted to go parachuting, so he signed up for a class.
During one of the first classes, the instructor tells them, “One thing you need to know, is that it’s important to start preparing for your landing at around 300 feet.”
Boudreaux asked, “How do you know when you’re at 300 feet?”
“A good question,” replied the instructor. “At 300 feet you can recognize the faces of people on the ground.”
Boudreaux thought about this for a while before asking, “What happens if I don’t recognize anyone?”
Facial recognition has been the dream of many technology companies and is now used by police departments to identify criminals and mobile phone companies to unlock phones. Needless to say, there are many benefits to being able to properly identify an individual via a computer, but there are also many opportunities to exploit the technology. Whether good or bad, the computers are getting better at it. As for people recognizing other people, we do fairly well. We will recognize a person’s face even if we can’t remember their name, so how is it the brain does this? For the answer, we have to go to the scientist and I found an article in the Smithsonian that helped.
Turns out, when we are remembering a person’s face, we are not remembering the entire face, but really only key points. The scientist who was interviewed said, “as far as your neurons [your brain] are concerned, a face is a sum of separate parts, as opposed to a single structure.” (Source)
This might very well explain why, when I have spoken to people who are wearing a mask for health reasons, I end up talking to complete strangers. Only seeing half their face does not allow my brain to properly analyze those key points. It has, however, made for some rather interesting conversations.
I got to thinking about this and thought, “Wouldn’t it be a great idea if there was a key marker in our faces that would identify us as Christians.” That would make it easy for us to recognize one another so we would know when we are with the “right people”. For example, maybe when we are baptized there is some subtle change in our appearance, some marker that declares to everyone: Christian, but then my cynical mind kicked in and said, “Think of all the money you could make by coming up with a product that could hide that marker, so that when we felt like being ‘not so Christian’, we could cover it up.” And the only reason my cynical mind thought of that was because I would likely be the first one in line to buy it! As Hamlet says in the William Shakespeare play, “God has given you one face, and you make yourself another.” Still, there must be a way. How can we identify each other as Christian?
Jesus actually provides us an answer to this question: “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” (John 1:34-35) That sounds so simple, but we are all aware of how truly difficult it is, because love is far more than words.
In The Four Loves, C.S. Lewis writes, “To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.” And that is just one aspect of what love is, because love also involves acceptance and sacrifice, giving and receiving, repenting and forgiving, and so much more. To be identified as a Christian is to love in such a way, which as we know, means to love as Jesus loved. It would be nice, if at our baptism, we were suddenly imbued with the capacity to love in such a way, but that is clearly not the case. However, at our baptism, we are given a road map. Would you take out your Book of Common Prayer and turn to page 292.
Please see below for The Renewal of Baptismal Vows.
You are all familiar with this. It is the Baptismal Covenant and most of you have renewed your vows in the past. And as this is the day we celebrate the Baptism of Our Lord, we are given yet another opportunity to renew them.
That first question (“Do you reaffirm your renunciation of evil and renew your commitment to Jesus Christ?”) is the equivalent of our more protestant friends asking us if we are “saved”. The next three questions concern what we believe and the combined answers make up one of the oldest confessions of the Christian faith: the Apostles’ Creed. There are 1,000s of pages written further explaining what it is we are saying in those few words, but these statements are truly sufficient. The road map on how we are to love as Jesus loved is provided in the next five questions. Like the Creed, each of these can be expanded on, but once we fully understand what it is we are saying, we learn that these questions are all inclusive of the Christian life: fellowship, Communion, worship, prayer, study, service, repentance, forgiveness, loving, justice… all are included here. Yet, we also know that it is not all about what we say. It is also about what we do, for as the Apostle James said, “What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him? If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace, be warmed and filled,’ without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that? So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.” (James 2:14-17) We will be identified as Christians by our love, but that love must be accompanied by actions that reflect it.
In the renewal of our baptismal vows, we state in Who and what we believe, then we respond as to how we live and act as we are called. What does that look like? I’ll never be a Mother Teresa, but…
Shane Claiborne is an activist and author and had the opportunity to work alongside Mother Teresa. In his book, The Irresistible Revolution, he says that he is often asked what she was like. He writes, “Sometimes it’s like they wonder if she glowed in the dark or had a halo. She was short, wrinkled, and precious, maybe even a little ornery, like a beautiful, wise old granny. But there is one thing I will never forget – her feet. Her feet were deformed. Each morning in Mass I would stare at them. I wondered if she had contracted leprosy. But I wasn’t going to ask, of course, ‘Hey Mother, what’s wrong with your feet?’ One day a sister said to us, ‘Have you noticed her feet’. We nodded, curious. She said, ‘Her feet are deformed because we get just enough donated shoes for everyone, and Mother does not want anyone to get stuck with the worst pair, so she digs through and finds them. And years of doing that have deformed her feet.’” Claiborne wrote, “Years of loving her neighbour as herself deformed her feet.”
We are not all being asked to wear shoes that deform our feet so that others may be more comfortable, but we are all being asked to love in such radical ways as to have the unmistakeable and identifiable mark of Jesus upon our lives. So I give you this to consider: when someone looks at you and your life, will they be able to identify you as a disciple of Jesus?
Let us pray: God, our Father, You redeemed us and made us Your children in Christ. Through Him You have saved us from death and given us Your Divine life of grace. By becoming more like Jesus on earth, may we come to share His glory in Heaven. Give us the peace of Your kingdom, which this world does not give. By Your loving care protect the good You have given each of us. Open our eyes to the wonders of Your Love that we may serve You with a willing heart. Amen.
The Renewal of Baptismal Vows
Do you reaffirm your renunciation of evil and renew your commitment to Jesus Christ? I do.
Do you believe in God the Father? I believe in God, the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth.
Do you believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of God? I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord. He was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary. He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried. He descended to the dead. On the third day he rose again. He ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of the Father. He will come again to judge the living and the dead.
Do you believe in God the Holy Spirit? I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting.
Will you continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers? I will, with God’s help.
Will you persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord? I will, with God’s help.
Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ? I will, with God’s help.
Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself? I will, with God’s help.
Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being? I will, with God’s help.
The Celebrant concludes the Renewal of Vows as follows
May Almighty God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has given us a new birth by water and the Holy Spirit, and bestowed upon us the forgiveness of sins, keep us in eternal life by his grace, in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
My friend, St. Josemaría Escrivá, in his book, Christ is Passing By, writes about his contemplation of the baby Jesus lying in a manger. He begins by asking, “Lord, where is your kingship, your crown, your sword, your sceptre?” Escrivá says, “They are his by right, but he does not want them. He reigns wrapped in swaddling clothes. Our king is unadorned. He comes to us as a defenceless little child. Can we help but recall the words of the Apostle: ‘He emptied himself, taking the nature of a slave’?
“Our Lord became man to teach us the Father’s will. And this he is already doing as he lies there in the manger. Jesus Christ is seeking us—with a call which is a vocation to sanctity—so that we may carry out the redemption with him. Let us reflect on this first lesson of his. We are to co-redeem, by striving to triumph not over our neighbour, but over ourselves. Like Christ we need to empty ourselves, to consider ourselves as the servants of others, and so to bring them to God.
Therefore, Escrivá continues, “As you kneel at the feet of the child Jesus on the day of his Epiphany and see him a king bearing none of the outward signs of royalty, you can tell him: ‘Lord, take away my pride; crush my self-love, my desire to affirm myself and impose myself on others. Make the foundation of my personality my identification with you.’” (#31)
I won’t speak for anyone but myself, but when I consider how many times I want to put myself first, how many times I see myself as better than someone, how many times I think I deserve more or the best—this could be a long list—and then I come alongside the Magi and kneel before this child and consider all that Jesus gave up to be born in a manger and all he endured because he gave it up… I would like to think that I’m a humble person, but I know the truth of myself… I’m a spoiled brat. I am a redeemed spoiled brat, but spoiled brat all the same.
We must learn humility from this child, the One True God, who lies in the manger wrapped in swaddling clothes. We must learn to submit to and humble ourselves before God and submit ourselves to one another, so that in the end, we may be raised up with him.
It is as St. Paul teaches us in his letter to the Philippians (2:6-11) “Though [Jesus] was in the form of God, [he] did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”
On this Eve of the Epiphany, as we kneel alongside the Magi, may we be reminded of our Savior’s great humility and learn to follow in the way he leads.
In the words of Escrivá, let us pray: ‘Lord, take away our pride; crush our self-love, our desire to affirm ourselves and impose ourselves on others. Make the foundation of our personalities our identification with you.’ This we pray in the Name of your Incarnate Son, Jesus. Amen.
A few months back I started a subscription to The New Yorker. No. I’m not all that hoity-toity and I can’t even do the simple crossword puzzles in the back, but it has some good articles and other items, but the main reason I started getting it was for the short stories. Each issue has a new author. Sometimes the stories are good, sometimes I don’t finish them, but… its nice.
A few months ago there was an interesting story, The Ghost Birds, by Karen Russell. I haven’t heard of her before, but I did enjoy her story. It talked about a father who loved “birdwatching” and had taken his teenage daughter along for the most recent outing. When they returned they shared with the mother—the parents weren’t getting on so well—about the trip. The mother asked the daughter if she enjoyed hearing the birds, because when she had gone, she had not. She said they sounded like barking Chihuahuas. The daughter said that she did in fact enjoy it. So the mother said, “What did you like about it? To me it sounded like, cow-cow-cow.”
Turns out, it wasn’t the birds the daughter enjoyed the most. Instead, she turned to her mom and replied, “I like watching Dad’s face while he listens.”
Perhaps I’m not being true to the Gospel, but on Christmas Eve—last night—I want our regular attenders to hear it, but I really want those who may be visiting to hear a particular message without complicating it. The message: God loves you. If they don’t hear anything else, I want that message to follow them on their way, but there is that other part of the Gospel that can never be separated from the Incarnation, the birth of Christ, and that is the Crucifixion, the death of Christ. What I find so fascinating is that, before the Incarnation, Jesus knew the Father’s will and he knew why he was coming into the world and what was going to happen in the end. And I guess, having had that knowledge, I would want to ask him why? I know it was out of love for us, but… if you asked him, “Why?” he endured so much, how would he respond?
Well, this is putting words in the mouth of Jesus—which is never a good idea—but it feels true to me. I think Jesus would respond by saying something like, “I like watching your face, when you realize how deeply you are loved. I like being there, when on your last day you step into that Heavenly Kingdom and fully understand that the promises of God are real. I like watching you as you stand up straight and tall, all of your earthly burdens finally lifted from you. And I like watching my “Dad’s” face while he listens… while he listens to your voices in praise knowing that his children—you—have come home to him.”
Let us pray: Father, we are filled with the new light by the coming of your Word among us. May the light of faith shine in our words and actions. Grant this through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Boudreaux and Thibideaux somehow managed to get a job working in the same office, and on one particular Friday, Boudreaux showed up to work and found Thibideaux hanging upside down from the ceiling.
“What are you doing?” Boudreaux asked.
“Shh,” Thibideaux said, “I’m a light bulb. I’m acting crazy to get a few extra days off, as squirrel season opens this weekend.”
A minute later the boss walked by and asked Thibideaux what he was doing.
“I’m a light bulb!” Tibs exclaimed.
“You’re going crazy,” said the boss. “Take a few days off, and come back when you are less stressed.”
With that, Tibs jumped down and started walking out. Boudreaux started following him whereupon the boss asked where he thought he was going.
Without missing a beat, Bou says, “I can’t work in the dark.”
Boudreaux knows how to work the angles.
I am definitely a night person, but I still need the light in order to work, but we know that John in his prologue was speaking of different kind of light and a different kind of darkness when he wrote, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” Lord Byron, in his poem, Darkness, does a fine job of describing the kind of darkness that John refers to. He writes:
I had a dream, which was not all a dream. The bright sun was extinguish’d, and the stars Did wander darkling in the eternal space, Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air; Morn came and went—and came, and brought no day, And men forgot their passions in the dread Of this their desolation; and all hearts Were chill’d into a selfish prayer for light.
In Byron’s world of darkness there was nothing but despair and the people began to die off. They all finally came together and built a great fire, but they all died when, in its light, they saw what they had become. And a Merry Christmas to you too.
I don’t know the circumstances behind Byron writing that peom, but I believe it does a fine job of describing the world that Jesus was born into. For the people of God, the world held a great spiritual darkness. There hadn’t been a prophet from God for over four hundred years, the oppression of the Roman legions was steadily on the increase, and the religious leaders were no help, so all that God had promised seemed to be vanishing before their eyes.
The people of of God were horrified at what they had become and there seemed nothing that they could do about it, but our God who is faithful and true had not abandoned his people.
On a cold winter’s night, God tore open the heavens over the region of Judea, above the City of David, which is called Bethlehem, and a star appeared. That star received its light from the God who created it, but was then wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger. And the child not only gave light to the star, but to all flesh. God had become flesh and dwelt among us.
As we declare in the Nicene Creed: For us and for our salvation he came down from heaven, by the power of the Holy Spirit he became incarnate from the Virgin Mary and was made man.
The birth of Jesus, the Incarnation of God, was what this dark world had been waiting and praying for. Yet, the mistake we all can make is to limit the incarnation of our Lord to its historical context. We say that it was something that happened 2,000 some odd years ago, and in doing so we fail to understand its power in this present dark world and in our own lives
The light that first shone in the world on that first Christmas still shines as brightly today as it did back then. It still has the power to dispel the darkness and to bring about our redemption, the forgiveness of sins.
St. Paul confirms this: “For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.” This Light, who is our very life—body, soul, and spirit—has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and given us access to the very Kingdom of God. And to all who receive this Light, who believe in his name, Jesus gives the power to become children of God, but understanding this still leaves us with one very important question: Why? Why has God rescued us? Why has he forgiven us? Why has he given us power to become His children?
Why did God become man? Holy scripture has one answer to this question: love. “In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atonement for our sins.”
God became man because of his love for you, so then the question is: do you believe that you are loved by God? We can talk theology and philosophy and so on, but that’s what it all comes down to: do you know and believe that you are loved by God? My friend Brennan Manning says, “I am now utterly convinced that on Judgment day the Lord Jesus will ask one question and only one question, ‘Did you believe that I loved you? That I desired you? That I waited for you day after day?’” Brennan believes the answer for most of us will be, “No.” We don’t believe God loves us or even could. Why? Because, as Brennan says, “We make God in our own image and he winds up being as fussy, and rude, and narrow minded, judgmental and legalistic, and unloving and unforgiving as we are!” And a God like that could never love us, but those are human traits, not God traits, because as St. John tells us, “God is love.” Because of this love, Brennan believes that Jesus comes along side each one of us and says, “I have a word for you. I know your life story. I know every skeleton in your closest, I know every moment of sin and shame, dishonesty and degraded love that darkens your past. Right now, I know your shallow faith, your feeble prayer life, your inconsistent discipleship. And my word for you is this. I dare you to trust that I love you, just as you are! Not as you should be. Because none of us are as we should be.” I dare you to trust that I love you….
On a cold winter’s night in the region of Judea and in the City of David, which is called Bethlehem, God tore open the heavens and the Virgin gave birth to the light of the world, God’s one and only son. Mary wrapped the child in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger. This and all that followed… was for us, for our salvation, and because of his great love. Receive the gift. Receive the Light. Dare to believe you are loved by God.
Let us pray: Father in Heaven, You made us Your children and called us to walk in the Light of Christ. Free us from darkness and keep us in the Light of Your Truth. The Light of Jesus has scattered the darkness of hatred and sin. Called to that Light, we ask for Your guidance. Form our lives in Your Truth, our hearts in Your Love. Through the Holy Eucharist, give us the power of Your Grace that we may walk in the Light of Jesus and serve Him faithfully. Amen
Each year my friend, The Rev. Sean Ekberg, gathers laity and clergy to write a daily Advent reflection. Today (December 23) was mine. You can read it below or visit The Episcopal Church the Resurrection and read there along with some of the other reflections.
Luke 1:57-66
57 Now the time came for Elizabeth to give birth, and she bore a son. 58 Her neighbors and relatives heard that the Lord had shown his great mercy to her, and they rejoiced with her.
59 On the eighth day they came to circumcise the child, and they were going to name him Zechariah after his father. 60 But his mother said, “No; he is to be called John.” 61 They said to her, “None of your relatives has this name.” 62 Then they began motioning to his father to find out what name he wanted to give him. 63 He asked for a writing tablet and wrote, “His name is John.” And all of them were amazed. 64 Immediately his mouth was opened and his tongue freed, and he began to speak, praising God. 65 Fear came over all their neighbors, and all these things were talked about throughout the entire hill country of Judea. 66 All who heard them pondered them and said, “What then will this child become?” For, indeed, the hand of the Lord was with him.
His Name is John?
Holden Caulfield loves his sister, Phoebe, and her innocence. He desires that her innocence go unchanged, yet he knows that every experience will change her to one degree or another. Reflecting on her many trips to the museum to view the same paintings that he has enjoyed, he thinks, “I thought how she’d see the same stuff I used to see, and how she’d be different every time she saw it. It didn’t exactly depress me to think about it, but it didn’t make me feel gay as hell, either. Certain things they should stay the way they are. You ought to be able to stick them in one of those big glass cases and just leave them alone.” (The Catcher in the Rye, J.D. Salinger)
In many respects, the Church had come to see itself as one of those items that should be curated in a big glass case. It should occasionally be brought out to remove the fine layer of dust that had accumulated, along with any unwelcomed spider’s web, and the glass it set upon also properly dusted. But then it should be set back unhindered in its proper place in that big glass cabinet.
Close to two years ago, something came along and smashed the cabinet.
When it hit, we all lunged forward from our comfortable seats and dashed to catch the Church before it struck the ground and burst into thousands of unrecognizable shards. By the grace of God, we caught it, but then what were we to do? Build another glass museum case? Set it out of reach on some high pinnacle? Place it on the nearest flat surface and quietly walk away? No. None of the above. Besides, this is God’s Church and if we were not to care for it, then He would raise up from the stones those who would.
The Bishop, clergy and people of the Diocese of Oklahoma took their Church and began taking a much closer look at it. They peered into stained glass windows and found the wonders of God and signs of a life that they had not anticipated, but one they would embrace. This was something new. In a sense, within the Church, the events of the last few years are like Zechariah giving his newborn son a name that none of his family had ever received, and it was God saying, “Behold I make all things new.” And truthfully, we were all amazed. We were perhaps afraid in trying, but we were doing things that we had not ever imagined. We were speaking to the world in new ways, being creative in how we fulfilled the Great Commission. Sometimes those new ways worked and sometimes the internet signal was not strong enough; but we have persevered and will continue to do so, for we believe that the hand of the Lord is with us.
At the naming of John, Zechariah’s neighbors asked, “What then will this child become?” We can ask the same of the Church in this new era. What will we become? The answer: exactly the Church of which God desires for us to become. Let’s just not go and put ourselves back in another big glass cabinet. Let’s continue to seek new and innovative ways to proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ to a world that has also changed. Let’s follow John out into the wilderness and be witness to Love.
Over the last several years I’ve told you so many silly stories that I can’t remember when or where I told them, but in my opinion, a good joke is worth repeating and sometimes they can’t be helped. As I know I’ve told you, if I hear the word “unique”, then that stupid joke immediately pops in my head and it is a struggle not to tell it: “How do you catch a unique rabbit? You ‘neek up on him.” All that to say, as this is a day when our readings focus on the Blessed Virgin Mary, then I have to tell / re-tell this one…
The main place of worship at Nashotah House is The Chapel of St. Mary the Virgin. Perhaps this is why so many of the graduates of the House have such a love for the Blessed Virgin, myself included.
The joke tells of a priest that dies and finds himself standing before Peter at the Pearly Gates. The priest tells Peter who he is, but Peter says that he’s not on the list. “What do you mean. I faithfully served the Church for over 50 years! Please check again.” Peter checks, but comes up with nothing. “Would you please go get Jesus, so that I can talk with him?” Peter obliges, but even Jesus says he’s not on the list. The priest protests again, giving a litany of the things he has accomplished in service to the Lord, hoping something will spark a memory. Finally, having exhausted all other options, he blurts out, “I went to Nashotah House,” at which point Jesus holds up his hand and smiles. Jesus says, “That explains everything! Come on in. You’re a friend of Moms.”
I’m hoping that I can get into heaven because I’m on the list and Jesus knows me, but if necessary, it will not be beyond me to have his momma talk to him.
Today in our Gospel we read about Mary going to visit her cousin Elizabeth who was also pregnant with the forerunner of Jesus, John the Baptist. Elizabeth said to Mary, “Why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy.” Why did John leap in his mother’s womb? St. John Chrysostom tells us that in Mary, “The Lord is present, so [John] cannot contain himself or wait for nature to run its course; he wants to break out of the prison of his mother’s womb and he makes surefire he witnesses to the fact that the Savior is to come.” (From a sermon recorded by Metaphrastrus) Mary has brought Jesus very near and through the power of the Spirit, John recognizes that he is in the presence of his Lord, so even though he cannot speak, he proclaims the Savior by leaping for joy, just as David leapt for joy and danced before the Lord when the Ark of the Covenant was returned to Israel.
This all points to the most important role of Mary for us all: to bring us into the very presence of God, by bringing us to her son, Jesus. What can such an encounter look like?
I know of a man who, while praying the Rosary, had a vision of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
He had been walking along a country road. On one side of the road was a piney forest and on the other was a field and a pond. As he was walking, he had been searching for the Virgin, but unable to find her. Then in the distance, he saw her walking toward him down the road. He quickly turned and ran to meet her, but—and this is probably funny—the closer she got, the bigger she got so that when they finally met, she was able to reach down and pick him up and put him in her pocket.
He tried to see through the weave in the fabric of her dress to see the outside world and determine where she was taking him, but was unable to. Not only that, but the further they went, the darker it became until all was dark. Yet as the light had lessened, he had been able to detect something new: a sound. At first, it sounded like the soft beating of a drum, but a short distance on, the sound was unmistakable: it was the beating of a heart. He began to not only hear the heartbeat, but to also feel it in his entire body. Each beat was like a loving embrace. It was then the man realized that Mary had done what she had always done: she had brought him to Jesus. You see, it was not her pocket that she had placed the man into. No. Mary had placed the man in the wound in Jesus’ side so that the man could be near the beating loving heart of the Risen Lord. There the man learned even more of the great love of Jesus. He had been allowed to remain in that place for a short time and then was sent on his way to try and fulfill the Lord’s will.
There is always much confusion surrounding the role of Mary in the Church and in the life of God’s people, but that confusion only arrises when people fail to understand her purpose. The Venerable Fulton Sheen (I do like him) says, “Devotion to the Mother of our Lord in no way detracts from the adoration of her Divine Son. The brightness of the moon does not detract from the brilliance of the sun, but rather bespeaks its brilliance.” Because of who she is, Mary receives our devotion, but she never seeks to be worshipped. Instead, she seeks to draw people to herself so that she can then lead them or even take them to her Son. So that she can place them near His heart that they might know of His great salvific love for them.
I encourage you all to take a quiet walk with Mary. You may think that she is simply spending time with you, which she is, but when the walk is over, just like John, you will find yourself in the presence of the Lord, and your soul (if not your body as well) will leap with joy.
Father, source of light in every age, the virgin conceived and bore Your Son Who is called Wonderful God, Prince of Peace. May her prayer, the gift of a mother’s love, be Your people’s joy through all ages. May her response, born of a humble heart, draw Your Spirit to rest on Your people. Grant this through Christ our Lord. Amen.
The Greek god Apollo is the is the supposed god of many things, including archery. So, one day, when he encountered Eros, the god of love, Apollo teased Eros about his bow and how it wasn’t really fit for anything. Eros became angry at being teased and devised a plan. He created two arrows, one of gold and the other lead. He then shot Apollo with the gold one, causing Apollo to fall desperately in love with the beautiful river nymph, Daphne, and want to marry her. Eros then shot Daphne with the lead arrow, causing her to hate everything about Apollo. Daphne had no desire to marry anyone, especially Apollo, but when it became evident that Apollo was going to catch her and force her, she called out to her father to save her. As much as it hurt her father, he consented and Daphne was turned into a tree: Laurus Nobilis—a Laurel tree. However, that did not stop Apollo from loving her, saying, “Always my hair will have you, my lyres will have you, my quivers will have you, laurel tree.” And so, after declaring the Laurel tree sacred, Apollo, cut off a branch and made a crown of Laurel leaves and wore it to show his love.
In the second century a coin was minted showing the head of Apollo wearing the crown. From there, the crown of Laurels became a symbol of great success and the winners of the Pythian Games (Olympics) was awarded a Laurel crown for their victory. In later centuries, the phrase, “repose / rest on your Laurels”, became a way of saying that a person, after achieving victory, could rest and enjoy their fame and fortune, but along about the 19th century, the world became more hard-charging and enough was never enough, so instead of being a positive, “resting on your laurels”, the phrase became a negative. It speaks of laziness or an unwillingness to achieve more, thinking you’ve reached your peak.
An example of someone modern “resting on their Laurels” would be Nolan Bushnell. Nolan was the founder of Atari, the creator of those early video games. He was also the founder of Chucky Cheese, that place of loud screaming and birthday parties. He’s done pretty well. Today he is worth about $50 million. However, two young fellas he worked with at Atari, Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak, had been tinkering around with a few parts from the Atari and created a personal computer, but they needed a bit of start up cash, so they came to their buddy, Nolan Bushnell, and asked him for $50,000. Nolan, who said, “I thought I could do no wrong and I got really sloppy,” turned down the offer. He didn’t think Atari should be making computers. He rested on his success. He rested on his laurels. What would his $50,000 have purchased him? One-third of Apple. Today, one-third of Apple is worth approximately $800 billion. Nolan says, “I was so smart, I said no, and It’s kind of fun to think about that, when I’m not crying about it.”
Today, in our Gospel reading, we read, “John [the Baptist] said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, ‘You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham.’”
We’ve been studying the life of Abraham during our Sunday school lesson and we know that God made His covenant with him. The covenant was the promise to Abraham that through him a great nation would be born. A nation that would be established for all eternity. He was promised by God that his offspring would be more numerous than the stars in the sky or the sand on the sea shores. Through this covenant, the Jewish people became God’s chosen people. Knowing such a thing can change a person. It can create within them a desire to do great things and to live into that promise or it can cause a person to become proud and lazy, thinking they have nothing more to do.
“Hey. I’m God’s chosen, so phooey on you.” “Hey, I’m God’s chosen, so I’m getting into heaven no matter what.” “Hey, I’m God’s chosen, so I can do whatever I like.” “Hey, I’m God’s chosen, so I don’t have to do anything else.” John the Baptist came along and said, “Do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor.’” John the Baptist said, “Hey, I’m God’s Prophet, so don’t be resting on your laurels! That’s not going to save you! So get over yourself and repent.”
That’s what happened to some of the Jewish people. They were cut off. What’s interesting, is that we as a Christian people can fall into the same trap of resting on our Laurels. “Hey, I’ve got Jesus, I’m on the inside.” “Hey, I go to church, so I’m good to go.” “Hey…” and so on. That is the equivalent of saying, “We have Abraham as our ancestor”, but what did Jesus say, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven.”
St. Paul, using the analogy of an olive tree, speaks to all of this in his letter to the Romans: “If some of the branches were broken off, and you, although a wild olive shoot, were grafted in among the others and now share in the nourishing root of the olive tree, do not be arrogant toward the branches… do not become proud, but fear. For if God did not spare the natural branches, neither will he spare you.”
Jesus said, “Everyone to whom much was given, of him much will be required, and from him to whom they entrusted much, they will demand the more.” We have received so much from this child that was born in the manger: forgiveness of sins, unity with God, eternal life, the very Kingdom of God. These are gifts from God that we can never earn or repay, but let us try. Let us live as though we could, not resting on our laurels, but ever striving to become those who reflect God’s light and love into the world.
Let us pray: Almighty God, give us grace to cast away the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light, now in the time of this mortal life in which your Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility; that in the last day, when he shall come again in his glorious majesty to judge both the living and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal; through him who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
Little Johnny got on the elevator in the Empire State Building in New York City with his father. They started going to the top. Little Johnny watched the signs flashing as they went by the floors: 10, 20, 30, 40, 50, 60, 70.
They kept going, and Johnny started getting nervous. He took his dad’s hand and said, “Dad, does God know we’re coming?”
New York City: O. Henry says, “It’ll be a great place if they ever finish it.” Christopher Morley referred to it as “the nations Thyroid gland” and Ralph Waldo Emerson, who did not care for the Big Apple, called it a “Sucked orange.” There are so many songs about it that it’s hard to pick just one, so I’ll go with Lou Reed: “New York City’s the place where they said, ‘Hey, babe, Take a walk on the wild side.’” The one description that resonated with me was given my Kurt Vonnegut. He called New York City, “Skyscraper National Park.”
As some of you are aware, this past week, I was a complete tourist in that particular national park. Rockefeller Christmas Tree to the Empire State Building and I know that I saw only a fraction of one percent that is offered. It is a mass of people, lights sounds, vehicles, buildings and assaulting smells. It is impossible to take in even one block without being awed.
My hotel was a block off time square and my room was on the 39th floor. From there I could see it all and what I discovered, even that high up, is that you could still hear the birds and other animals that roamed below in that Skyscraper National Park. Oh, yes. There was one bird that cried out all night {siren} and one particular animal that absolutely never stopped calling night or day {honk}. I could see the streets below and the river of cars never stopped flowing and the people… it may be a cliché, but it truly is a place that never sleeps. Will I go again? Absolutely. Would I live there? Absolutely not. Not a place that suits my nature. Why?
In our Saint’s Book Club, we’ve been reading The Hawk and the Dove. I took it with me and read the entire thing on the way home (it helped having a three hour delay in one of the airports). Truly a brilliant little book. I won’t spoil it, but it is about a mother telling her daughter stories about a monastery that existed some 700 years prior. At the end of one particular hectic and noisy day with her several children, the mother and her oldest are sitting by the fire having tea and mother says, “Peace. Oh, this is nice. It’s nice when you feel peaceful inside, and you can curl up by the fire in a peaceful house. Too much racket in the house and it frays you at the edges a bit….” I couldn’t live in New York City because I think it would be a bit like living in a house with too much racket and my nerves would be more than a bit frayed. I’m sure that it is something you eventually become accustomed to—or something that drives you crazy—but as it is, the Queen can at times get a bit too noisy for me. However, after speaking about a noisy house, mother goes on to say, “but if you lose the peace on the inside of you, you could be in the quietest place on earth and your nerves would still jangle.” And that’s just it, you could live in a vacuum, absent of all noise, and there would still be this great racket going on in your soul. Like New York City, the soul can become this overwhelming cacophony where there is no rest or peace. What are we to do?
There are those who will attempt to provide us with all sorts of escapes, all of which are costly in one way or another. I can run through a litany of them here, but you all know your “drug” of choice. That one thing you hope will give you some respite from the noise, but in the end, you know you’ll still end up with some variety of a hangover. Surprisingly, the answer doesn’t lie in adding something to our lives. The answer to the noise lies in setting it all aside.
In the words of Isaiah that were quoted in our Gospel, we are told that John was, “The voice of one crying out in the wilderness.” That immediately tells us that in order for our souls to clearly hear that calling voice, we must take the time to set aside the things of this world, we need to get out of the noise of the city and not only that, we need to get out of the noise of our own heads and enter into a place of quiet.
Brennan Manning, in The Ragamuffin Gospel said, “We must go out into a desert [a wilderness] of some kind,” and he says, “your backyard will do.” When the world is so loud on the exterior or in the interior, we must seek out those wilderness places of quiet. It is there that we can once again see the straight path that is laid before us. And it is there that the rough mountains of our lives are made low and the deep valleys are filled. As Manning would go onto say, when we enter the wilderness, that place where we can hear the voice of God calling to us, then we “come into a personal experience of the awesome love of God.” What is so beneficial is that this awesome love of God is not something that abandons us when leave the quiet, but instead goes with us as we re-enter the noise, and instead of feeling frayed, we maintain that peace that can come only from above. Like a fish that has to be returned to the water, we too have to return time and time again until we are fully perfected in Christ, but we can know that God’s love is inexhaustible and always available to us.
During this season of Advent, we celebrate the coming of our Lord and look with joyous anticipation towards his second coming, but do not forget that the Kingdom of God is now and that you have access to it if you will seek Him in the wilderness, in the quiet, where He can be found.
Let us pray: Father of Heaven and earth, hear our prayer and show us the way to peace. Guide each effort of our lives so that our faults and our sins may not keep us from the peace You promised. May the new life of grace You give us through the Eucharist and prayer make our love for You grow and keep us in the joy of Your Kingdom. Amen
Candle in a Cave 