St. Mary, St. Bernadette, & St. Genevieve

        Fr. Lawrence Nyanga Atambo is a priest in eastern Kenya, in the Diocese of Kisii. He was a pastor, and the rector of a high school seminary, before being sent for advanced studies in Rome.
         Fr. Lawrence tells the story about driving on a desolate stretch of road in Kenya, when he was forced off the road by bandits. They ordered him out of the car, and told him to lie face down on the ground. While on the ground, they searched him, and the car for valuables. During this time, you’d think he’d be concerned about bodily harm. But as he tells the story, with a wry smile, he was instead thinking ‘well, the last time I was in this position, I was on the floor of the Cathedral, being ordained a priest.’
         The Magi of today’s Gospel, who also find themselves prostrate on the ground, have provoked countless questions. How many were there? Where were they from? While the answers are not exactly pinned down, we can at least surmise that they had positions of authority and education. They were experts in astronomy, but also the interpretation of the stars (this is why they are sometimes called astrologers). And because of the gifts they bring, they clearly have material resources.
         Because of all these factors - authority, education, resources – it is astonishing – that the first thing they do, upon meeting the Christ Child, is prostrate themselves. They get on their knees, drop their upper torso to the ground, and place their nose face down.
         If anything, according to the world’s standards, the Holy Family should have prostrated themselves before the Magi. Why would the Magi do such a thing?
         When the Magi arrive at King Herod’s palace, and ask, ‘Where is the newborn King of the Jews?, Herod goes into a panic. He goes into a panic because ‘King of the Jews’ – is histitle. That’s the power his family lobbied the Romans for, and they got it. That’s his power to keep.
         If anything, the Magi should have prostrated themselves before King Herod. Why wouldn’tthey do such a thing?
         In our first reading, the people are rebuilding their city, rebuilding their country, after the Exile. The Exile was profoundly traumatic, because they temporarily lost their freedom, their major place of worship (the Temple), and their land. But as they rebuild, their thoughts turn back to the days when things were ‘normal’ - when they enjoyed power. When they ventured went out, defeated their neighbors, and established who was in charge.
But now, God sends them a prophet, who makes an astonishing prediction: you will notgo out, and conquer your neighbors again. Your neighbors will come to you: and yet, they’re not going to conquer you either. Your neighbors will come, because they will realize, that this is the place, to worship the one true God. And at that point, you must welcome them.
         When those days come, it won’t be about temporalpower. It will be about a different kind of power – the power of adoration. Because when one has the power of adoration, one is no longer placing // his or her nose on the ground // to some earthly power.
         As the Magi prostrated themselves before the Christ Child, in adoration, they get up. They offer their gifts, and they depart. But they depart as different people, as Bishop Fulton Sheen has noted. They do not go back to the earthly authority, King Herod. There is no need.
The pages of our local newspaper, theAddison Independent, have recently beenobsessed with questions of power: who’s in charge nationally, of which challenges get addressed? Who’s in charge locally, of whether a school stays open?
         These are very real questions, that need answers through structures of authority. Yet, the discussion about this also seems impoverished – by a lack. The lack of something more than the horizontal, the lack of something spiritual – so that instead politics become all-consuming, all-important – and political office (whether the President, or the school board) become the only places of power.
           Our center of power, however, is different. It is the Eucharist – Christ present under the sign of bread. This is the Eucharist that God invites us to:

• We adore

• We are empowered by this adoration

• We welcome those who are hungry// to worship something else in life //to join us in this adoration.

Irene Alexander is a mother, a mother of five.

As she writes, at some point, she got the strange idea in her head // that being a good mom // means renouncing everything that she’s ever loved // in pursuit of this one new love: caring for her children.

On the one hand, it made a certain degree of sense. She sacrificed time, sleep, and comforts in order to embark on the new adventure of meeting her kids’ needs, and seeing them flourish. She didn’t particularly love cleaning up vomit, drowning in dishes, or folding endless baskets of laundry - but she did it because she loved them.

Despite this, Irene was struggling to keep her joy as a mom. The bickering, the screaming, the mess, the worry over their welfare, the physical and emotional exhaustion. She would break down in tears, wondering how anyone in their right mind could feel joy in the midst of all this, with a pandemic to boot.

But one Sunday in November, she reflected upon the Gospel reading. It was the parable of the wise and foolish virgins, who await the arrival of the “Bridegroom,” and the need for oil in their lamps.   

When Irene brought her burn-out to prayer, she felt the Lord saying to her, “Have you extinguished your flame? Where are all the gifts that I gave you?”

She had never thought of it that way. She thought that ‘love’ // meant putting away // all the things that she loved // in the service of motherhood. Offer up any drudgery as a sacrifice and maintain perfect emotional stability. But what about the young woman underneath it all  //who loved making up silly songs on the guitar, or who enjoyed journaling just for fun?

Irene decided to try it. She put a little bit of time into the things that she loved. And then, as she writes, “It was like pouring oil on a diminishing light and reigniting an inner flame. It gave me energy. It gave me joy. And then something surprising happened. When I reignited my inner flame, the blaze of joyful energy made an impact on my family.”

The kids who were bickering were all of a sudden singing her songs and dancing around with good vibes. They watched her take a few minutes to do some quiet journaling, and they got out their notebooks and started writing their own stories.

In these eight days of celebrating Christmas Day, the Christmas Octave, we have celebrated how God has manifested Himself:

· On Christmas, we heard how God manifested Himself using messengers: his Angels to the shepherds, and a North Carolina grandmother or the future Dr. Francis Collins.
· On the Feast of the Holy Family, we heard how God manifested Himself via a family: JMJ to Simeon and Anna.
· And today, the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God, we heard how God manifested Himself via reflection: to Mary, who reflected upon all these things in her heart, and to Irene Alexander, who reflected upon the things // going on// in her heart.

Because God is outside of time, He can manifest Himself to us, in our times of reflection. He can use a past event to make Himself known to us in the present moment, of reflection.

As we conclude the Christmas Octave, here are three ways that we can ponder how God has revealed Himself to us:


1. Who is one messenger that God has sent you, to reveal something about God’s self?
2. Who is one family that God has sent you, to reveal something about God’s self?
3. What is one moment of reflective prayer that God gave you, to reveal something about God’s self?

· One messenger,
· one family,
· one moment of reflective prayer.

When these three things come into focus, we can give Christmas thanks to God.

         I was speaking to a person in monastic life, and asked what was the greatest thing learned so far in the monastery.
        The person replied: “I’m not in control. God is.”
         Paul, in our 2^ndReading, also finds himself ‘not in control’. He is most likely in prison somewhere, and he hears that there are some difficulties with the community back in Colossae, Greece – a church community that he helped found.
         So he sends them some advice: “let the peace of Christ control your hearts, the peace into which you were also called in one body.”They hadn’t been at peace…because they were having a hard time imagining – that in this new community - Jew and Greek could actually live together. They were having a hard time imagining that – male and female, rich and poor, master and slave, learned and not learned – that two different groups could live together, in this new community.
         Needless to say, they had to let go of some pre-conceived notions, of what they thoughtcommunity, and religion, were about. They weren’t in control of what God was creating in Christ. But when they relinquished control - and it would be hard- it gave them entry into a peace // not of their own making.
         Simeon and Anna, in our Gospel, had been waiting a long time for this person that God promised to send. And in that long time, they would have naturally have come up with some ideas of what this person was like. So when a country couple came in, holding a baby, Simeon and Anna could have been mightily disappointed. But that didn’t happen – they rejoiced. They rejoiced because they let // God reveal to them // who this Savior would be. If they had pre-conceived notions, they had to let them go. Perhaps this is a reason they had to wait – they needed that preparation time.
        
Here are two givens:

• God revealed Himself, through a family: man, woman, child.
• God chose to first make this revelation known // to those considered ‘lowly’ – shepherds, women, the elderly.

While different currents of society may not be at peace with these givens from God, those who cross the threshold of living in Christ, can be.
         In Christ, we don’t have to be in in control.
         If we were in control, then we’d be too busy, to notice the God trying to get our attention.

There was a medical student at the University of North Carolina.  In the first years of study, he immediately loved genetics, which satisfied the digital, rational part of him. He was an atheist. There were occasional Christian medical students, who invited him to sit with them at lunch, but he avoided them, because he thought they were pretty weird.

As a third-year medical student, all of the theoretical became real, as he began sitting at the bedside of people // who had terrible diseases, most of which medicine didn’t have complete answers. That began to trouble him, because he saw in their eyes, what might someday be him. ‘If that was me lying in that bed with a terminal diagnosis, he asked himself, ‘how would I handle it?’

He watched how they handled it, those good North Carolina people, and many of them seemed quite at peace. They talked about their faith and he thought, “Why aren’t you angry at God? Why aren’t you shaking your fist // at what God has done to you?” But that’s not what happened. They felt like God had been good to them. They had been blessed, and they looked forward to what came after. But for this future doctor, he wasn’t going to think about it.

There was a pivotal moment, where he sat at the bed of an elderly woman, who reminded him of his grandmother. She was afflicted with a cardiac disease, which caused an awful chest pain, on a regular basis. Medicines were not working. And during those episodes, she would pray with the greatest earnestness he’d ever seen. She would come through it, and would still seem at peace.

As she shared her faith with him // day after day, he was uncomfortable. And one day, she turned to him and said, “Doctor, I’ve shared my faith with you, and you seem to be somebody who cares for me. What do you believe?” What do you believe, Doctor?And at that moment, he realized he was utterly lacking in a response. “Well, I don’t think I really know,” he stammered out, and the surprise in hereyes cut through him.

He realized // that he neglected // the most important question// that any of us ever asks: Is there a God, and does that God care about me?

Back in March, during 60 Minutes, there was a television commercial from Pfizer. And the tag line was: “Science will save us.” It was meant to give hope to people in an uncertain time. It was also some heavy PR on the part of a drug company. It was also blasphemous.
In our Gospel, the angels make an announcement, that according to the political order of the day, was blasphemous itself. This was the time of the Pax Romana– the peace that the Roman Empire enjoyed.

The Romans’ formula was incredibly effective: they allowed the conquered people to keep their religion, and keep some local control. But at the end of the day: the savior, the Lord, was still the Roman Emperor.

The Good News that the angels announce // is that there is a savior who comes from outside our world of thinking // yet takes on human flesh //to speak to our world of experience. And the world of experience that he first takes on, is that of the little ones. Whom the world considers lowly.

Science has produced great advancements for the human race. Some think that someday, we will have a Pax Scientifica, when science answers all questions //and solves allproblems. But at the end of the day, science is just a tool, in the hands of human persons. The greater question, is not what is in the hands of that person, but what is in their heart.
What do you believe, Doctor?

That medical student was Dr. Francis Collins, member of the Human Genome Project, current director of the National Institutes of Health, believer in Jesus Christ. For him / Christmas started/ with a North Carolina grandmother.

Behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy
that will be for all the people.
For today in the city of David
a savior has been born for you who is Christ and Lord.
 

        What if Mary said no?
        What would have happened, if Mary declined God’s offer?
The holiday movie classic ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ centers on what would have happened / if George Bailey had said no / to ever existing. Said ‘no’ to his vocation of work in banking / and his vocation of marriage / lived out in his hometown. It certainly wasn’t what George was planning on himself. He was planning on leaving town, not getting into the family business, and striking out on his own.
         David, in our 1^stReading, has a ‘yes/no’ decision of his own to make. He has a great moment of national peace – there is internal peace among the tribes, there is external peace with neighboring peoples. And so he seems to have a moment of a piety and humility, asking ‘who I am to live a palace, while God dwells in the Ark of the Covenant, under a tent. Therefore, I will build God a temple.’
         But as we hear God’s response to David’s desire, it may be that David’s desire to build a temple wasn’t simply out of piety and humility. It could be, that as a ruler, who has pacified the internal problems of his people, and pacified the external problems, hasn’t pacified the one force not in his control: and that is God. The God who chooses to dwell with His people, wherever they wandered. But by building a temple, for the Ark of the Covenant to reside, God can now be ‘boxed in’, if you will. He can be put in a compartment. It would, subconsciously, give David a sense that he is control of God’s will.
         So God, in response, declines the offer. But God doesn’t stop there. He makes David a promise // that despite the fact that he won’t have the honor of building the temple, God will build him a temple, and David will have the honor of his name being known throughout the ages.
         This temple was Mary, who would come to be the model of the Church, which is the temple of the Holy Spirit.
          Let’s say that David said ‘no’ to God. He goes ahead and builds the Temple anyways. No big deal - it’s just a little ahead of schedule. But of course, in time this earthly building would crumble, and David might be just a figure in Jewish history. But something greater happened – David said ‘yes’ to God’s plan, and we’re still talking about him today. This is a glory that David couldn’t have come up with on his own. And because David said ‘yes’ to God, it then allowed his son Solomon to fulfill hisvocation // of building the Temple.
          In our Gospel, the written word doesn’t tell us more than that she was bethroed to Joseph. What were her hopes? What were her dreams? Whatever they were, they were either already aligned with God’s plan, or she brought them into alignment. She believed that there was a greater glory than her plans. She said yes. And we’re still talking about her today.
         The Good News of this 4^thSunday of Advent, is that whenever we say ‘no’ to God, He always says ‘yes’ to us. And when God says ‘yes’ to us, our futures are beyond// what we would ever devised // on our own.

 

           When you were younger, what was it that gave you joy at Christmas?
         I was recently comparing stories with a parishioner about our parents, who growing up during the Depression, received onegift at Christmas: an orange. They were delicacies, but affordable enough, for a houseful of kids.
         The joy of receiving …eventually gives way to the joy of seeing others rejoice (children at Christmas being a great example). This reminds us about a fascinating aspect of joy – the more something is outsideof ourselves, the deeper the joy. The more something is insideof ourselves, the more fleeting it is.
The prophet in our 1^stReading certainly experiences this for himself. When he sees:

• glad tidings announced to those in need,
• the brokenhearted being buoyed up,
• captives being freed

…when he sees these things, he can rejoice heartily, even though he is not the direct beneficiary.
         For Paul, in our 2^ndReading, he was used to a do-it-yourselfreligion, deriving great satisfaction from how well he did. But then God broke into his world, and introduced him to a completely different spirituality. Now, Paul would devote his efforts to detecting the Holy Spirit move in his life, and help others do the same. Because this was something outsidehis control, and because the work of the Spirit was unpredictable, Paul could be joyfully surprised when he figured out what the Spirit was up to.
         In our Gospel, John the Baptist is asked by the Pharisees, ‘why are you doing this baptizing stuff? Clearly there is something in it for you.’ And John responds: whatever I’m doing pales in comparison in what Jesus is going to do. Even though John hasn’t seen it yet for himself, he is rejoicingat the mere prospect of it.
         Next summer, pray God, we will have our first Ananias Training in parish. Who is Ananias? Ananias was the early Christian who helped Paul understand what happened to him on the road to Damascus. As you may recall from the Book of Acts, Ananias was (at first) resistant to go to Paul. But God moved him to do it. After facilitating Paul’s baptism, Ananias was able see for himselfthe power of God’s Spirit affect another.
       What is the Training? In the program’s own words, it aims to help parishes, homes, and apostolates become places where one can:
· recognize, through compassionate listening, the stages of another's spiritual journey.
· listen to his/her real questions and opinions about God, to guide the discovery of how God is already present.
· talk about our relationship with God and becoming a disciple
· share Jesus' own story in response to their spiritual hunger.
        Notice: it doesn’t train parishioners to win arguments, or ‘convert’ people. The only person who has the power to convert hearts is the Holy Spirit. Rather, it gives parishioners the spiritual tools to understand their own journey, so that they can pass along the same spiritual tool box to another….to help them understand their own journey.
         Pray God, for the parishioner, it will allow for the joy// of seeing the Spirit work // in the life of another.
         The paradox of joy.
          It involves other people.
        
        
        

         There is a news story from the summer, that didn’t seem to get much national attention, but continues to fascinate.
         During the summer, the City Council in New York pledged - in principle - to cut $1 billion from the budget for the New York Police Department. But as Council deliberations progressed, the consequences of what this would look like were spelled out: less police on the street.
         A group of council members became very vocal in opposition - to reducing the number of officers. And this group – to all the observers surprise - were council members from inner-city districts. Districts that were facing a summer uptick in violent crime....such as the tragic shooting of Brandon Hendricks, a 17-year old basketball star expected to attend St. John’s University next fall.
        Councilwoman Diana Ayala, who represents East Harlem and the South Bronx, reflected on the whole matter. She said that she had received thousands of emails in favor of cutting the police budget. However, most of these emails came from people who lived outside her district, or in another state.
        For the people who lived outside her district, why did they send the email in support? Was it because they felt the time was right for policy change? Assuredly. But I also wonder if there was something else operating. Guilt. Guilt for enjoying the benefits // of living in a more comfortable setting.
       For the people in our 1^stReading, and our Gospel, they are dealing with the fallout of not being independent anymore. Someone else is in control. This produced a national reckoning – spurred by God who spoke through his prophets.
      The people reacted to this reckoning with guilt. Both healthy guilt, and unhealthy guilt. And because guilt is such a powerful force, it builds up. Builds up in an individual, builds up in a people. And as it builds up, it needs to go somewhere. It needs to be released.
      One of the way guilt can be released, is through scapegoating … placing blame on individuals or groups.
       But -- there is another way guilt can be released.
       As John the Baptist comes on the scene in our Gospel, there is a remarkable scene. People flock to him to acknowledge their sins, and receive this symbolic action called ‘a baptism of repentance’. And what happens during this baptism?  People to turn to God, not in on themselves, nor on other people. As their focus is on God, they focus on their own sins – not the sins of someone else. And because they are now open to God, in this way, guilt can be released.
       Yet God doesn’t stop there.
       John promises that someone else is coming, someone who will ‘baptize with fire’, baptize with the Holy Spirit. Someone who will not only take away guilt, but burn it up. Immolate it.
In this new community taking shape, guilt’s ability to eat away from the inside at an individual, or eat away on the outside at other people – this ability lessens. Yet still, the remedy is not a one-time shot – the Holy Spirit will have to keep burning it away, and burning it away…as people open themselves to Him.
       In this new time of anxiety, the temptation to scapegoat affects each and every one of us. It is a very human reaction. But the Good News of Jesus Christ, announced by the first line of Mark’s Gospel, tells us: there can be another way.
      Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world. Happy are those invited // to this new way of being.