homilies
on the liturgy of the Sundays and feasts

By Jeffrey Lawrence

Waiting for Jesus
1st Sunday of Advent — December 2

“A” Readings: Isa. 2: 1-5 • Rom. 13: 11-14 • Matt 24:37-44

Title: The Meaning of Advent

Purpose: (1) to explain Advent as referring to the three comings of Christ (at Bethlehem, at the end of the world, into our hearts by grace this Christmas); (2) to encourage the faithful to try harder to lead a good Catholic life.

When I was a kid, my friends and I used to spend countless hours playing make believe. We played school; some kids were the teachers, others were the pupils. We played house. We played cowboys and Indians. Our bicycles and wagons became long freight trains and trucks and fancy cars. We played circus. We had pretend battles, and all of us were soldiers. Some kids even played church and Mass.

Of course, we all knew that we really weren’t teachers or cowboys or soldiers or circus performers. But we had lots of fun making believe. I know kids today do too.

I think one of the reasons I love being a priest is because we still can play make believe! And we can play right here in church. In fact, it’s a kind of game that Mother Church wants us to play!
Ordinarily, we are very solemn at Mass. We know that the Sacred Mysteries are serious, and we come before God with dignity and respect and great awe. 

But today, on the first Sunday of Advent, the Church invites us to play make believe. And what we pretend today is that Jesus never was born! We play that we’re living thousands of years before Christ was ever born in Bethlehem. We make believe that the world never experienced the first Christmas, and that we’re still waiting for Jesus to come into the world.

Naturally, we know that Christ really was born 2000 years ago. . . so what’s the point of this kind of game? 

One purpose of Advent is to transport us back to the Christ-less, Redeemer-less days before Bethlehem. Mother Church wants to show us the contrast between then and now, and make us realize how lost and miserable man was without Christ. St. Paul suggests what it was like. In the days before Christ, man was asleep. He was in a spiritual stupor. His life was wrapped not in the armor of light, but in deeds of darkness. Man could only slog through the mud. But even in those dark days, the good people of Israel had hope. They longed and prayed for the Messiah. They remembered God’s promise, and they craved that it would be fulfilled.

Try to picture what this kind of life was like. As we play make believe and try to bring this image alive, another purpose of Advent then comes into view — one which is much more personal and immediate for us. The Church hopes to stir up our hearts and make us yearn for the Savior in our own life, as we realize a sobering truth: in the old days, Christ was absent because he had not yet come into the world — but in our day, Christ seems absent because we push him away. In other words, he’s here, but we’ve rejected him. How sad and tragic this is. Advent uses many reminders to speak to our heart: somber purple vestments, subdued church ceremonies, and many prayers of longing. As we take in these outward signs around us, we should be constantly reminded of how desperately we need Jesus in our life. 

So we set ourselves a goal: Christmas! It’s just four weeks away. With God’s grace and some self-discipline on our own part, we can do our best not to get totally swept up in all the commercialism of this season. Yes, the parties, the shopping, the excitement are joyful — but we can’t let these eclipse the real meaning and infinite value of Christmas. 

As the prophet Isaiah prompts us, we must instead let God instruct us in His ways so we can walk in his paths. Advent is a time for ridding our souls and our lives of sin — and a time for penance to atone for our past sins. Advent is a season for intense prayer, especially a time to beg Christ to come into our lives, our families, our church, our world . . . because we need him so very much.

All this leads us to still a third purpose of Advent: to prepare us for Jesus’ coming again at the end of the world. For those in a state of grace, what a wonderful time this will be! But for those trapped in the vice of mortal sin, it’s hard to imagine a more fearsome day. Again and again, Our Lord pleads with us to stay awake and be prepared, because we do not know the day or the hour. Just as Jesus slipped into the world quietly and without advance notice on the very first Christmas Day, so will it be when the world grinds to an end. Isn’t it ironic that so many people think Our Lord’s Second Coming falls into the “let’s pretend” category. . . when, of course, nothing could be more real. 

Dear children of the Lord, as we begin a new church year, now is the time to prepare for all three of these advents: Jesus’ birth at Bethlehem… his coming into our hearts by grace in just a few weeks at Christmas… and his final coming at the end of the world. Let us beg God for his special blessings to make this season a holy and blessed time. Amen.

Suggested reading: Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2742-2745.

Gate of Heaven
The Immaculate Conception – December 8

Readings: Gen. 3:9-15. 20 • Eph. 1:3-6 • Luke 1:26-38

Title: The Immaculate Conception

Purpose: to show (1) Mary’s unique role in salvation history,
(2) as understood from her titles and honors from God.

Today we joyously celebrate the Feast of the Immaculate Conception of Mary. We rejoice that Our Lady was conceived without original sin on her soul. And Mary remained sinless and faithful throughout her entire life. In this way, the Blessed Virgin was consecrated to God at the very moment she was formed in her mother’s womb. Each day of her life, she lived out this consecration.

Why did God have this special privilege for Mary? Because he wanted her to be the immaculate temple of God, the spotless womb where his precious Son, Jesus, was to grow. 

We, too, handed over our lives to the Lord at our baptism. And he gave us the promise of immortality. The magnificent hymn of St. Paul that we just heard, in his Letter to the Ephesians, reminds us how God chose us from the beginning to be holy and filled with love, and how he predestined us to be his immortal and adopted children through Christ Jesus.

If only we could really hear this promise and understand what God is telling us! We would run to cleanse ourselves from every sin. We would truly thirst after holiness.

Don’t just let these words today go through your ears without reaching your heart. God gives us Mary as our own dear Mother — always ready to love us and comfort us… and always ready to take us by the hand and gently lead us to Jesus, her Son and her God… our brother and our God.

The beautiful titles that the Church has bestowed on Mary remind us of how precious she is:

Mother of the Church . . . Mother of divine grace . . . Mother most pure . . . Model of motherhood . . . Cause of our joy . . . Gate of heaven . . . Refuge of sinners . . . Comfort of the troubled . . . Help of Christians . . . .

Mary says to each of us: “Give your problems to me. Abandon yourself to me. No one understands you the way I do. I promise.”

But a trusting relationship with God and Our Lady doesn’t always come easy to our human nature. We’re proud and stubborn and we like to think we can stand on our own two feet.

Yet the interesting thing is, trust and dependence on God actually liberate our spirit and free us from our fears, our anxieties, and our doubts. Perhaps our greatest human need is to be taken care of, to be loved, to be made to feel safe. And this is exactly what Christ and his Mother offer us.

When we let go and give ourselves to Mary in trust and confidence, an amazing thing happens. We receive the very strength, courage, and peace that our heart desires.

Just because we grow up, that doesn’t mean that our need for mothering disappears. It’s part of our human make-up… and Mary is always there, ever-faithful, ready to listen to us, embrace us, intercede for us before God. Her love is so splendid that even the greatest archangel, Gabriel, spoke in awe: “Blessed are you among women!”

So — what are some practical ways to love Mary and trust her and ask for her powerful intercession?

First, we should pray the “Hail Mary” whenever we can. It takes less than 15 seconds. So you can pray this prayer quietly when you’re waiting in line for something, walking the dog, driving the car, doing the dishes . . .

Also, try to pray the Rosary every day — with your family, if possible. Some Saints say this is Mary’s favorite prayer… I think it gives her heavenly goose bumps!

We also honor Mary by keeping a picture or statue of her in our room. Keep a holy card with Mary in your prayer book or bible, and kiss it often.

We also praise Mary by showing special respect and love for her holy name — and Jesus’, too! Whenever you hear Mary’s name or Jesus’ name, it’s a beautiful custom to bow your head a little. Try to get into that habit. The nod means, “I love you!”

On this most holy feast day, let us rededicate ourselves to her Immaculate Heart and abandon ourselves to her care as we beg Our Blessed Mother to make our joy grow, to help us live in faith, and to change our hearts.

Most honored of virgins… Queen of heaven and earth… Most beloved Mother… pray for us, that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ. Amen.

Suggested reading: Catechism of the Catholic Church, 964 –965.

Show Evidence
2nd Sunday of Advent –December 9

“A” Readings: Isa. 11:1-10 • Rom. 15:4-9 • Matt. 3:1-12

Title: Repent your Sins; the Kingdom Is Coming

Purpose: (1) to show repentance of sins as a required preparation for the Lord’s coming; (2) to encourage timely use of the Sacrament of Reconciliation and of Advent Penitential Services.

We are blessed in our community to have a very fine Catholic hospital, St. Mary’s. I always sense God’s presence there, especially in the staff — including the doctors, nurses and other personnel who are not Catholic or even Christian.

Not too long ago, one of the non-Christian doctors shared with me a very personal and moving story. Hs patient — one of our parishioners —was dying and nearing the end. The doctor was greatly impressed with this man’s peacefulness and acceptance that death was approaching. In fact, the doctor himself had been struggling for a long time trying to find peace with God. He knew that he had sinned in the past, but didn’t quite know how to make the leap to real faith and happiness.

So during a quiet moment at his patient’s hospital bedside, the doctor said, “I want you just to tell me what it is, this believing and being so happy and calm all the time… this faith in Jesus that you have and all that sort of thing. How is it that you can be so peaceful?”

“Doctor,” said the man, “I have felt that there’s nothing I could do myself to heal my body, so I put myself totally in your hands. I am trusting in you. This is exactly what every poor sinner must do with Jesus.”

The doctor instantly saw the truth in his patient’s words, and thanks be to God, his eyes were opened in faith in a profound new way.

What the doctor experienced is precisely what St. John the Baptist speaks of in the Gospel of today’s Mass. “Repent!” he says, “for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”

How does that imperative, that command, strike you? “Repent!” or “Reform your lives” as it’s translated in the Lectionary. Most people hear this as an ominous threat: “You better straighten out your life, Buster, or else…!” In fact, you might remember the story that Jesus tells in St. Luke’s Gospel about the tower of Siloam falling on people and killing them even though they weren’t any worse sinners than others who were spared. Our Lord said, “I tell you, unless you repent, you will all likewise perish” (Luke 13:3).

But I propose to you that St. John the Baptist wasn’t giving us an ultimatum that way. Instead, he was saying, “You don’t know the incredible joy that you’re missing out on! Jump out of your life of sin and discover how many blessings will start coming your way.” 

The Scriptures teach that when we repent and cast away our sins, we make ourselves “a new heart and a new spirit” (Ezek. 18:31). God will refresh us (Acts: 3:19), because “He is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger, abounding in loving kindness” (Joel 2:13).

In other words, the Lord tells us that he loves us so very much, that no matter how terrible and sinful we’ve been in the past, he’ll gladly wipe the slate clean — if only we are sorry for what we’ve done and honestly try to amend our lives.

Just being sorry is not enough, although it’s certainly a good start. St. John the Baptist says that we’ve got to give some real evidence that we mean to reform our lives. He wouldn’t let the Jews get away with saying, “Well, we’re the chosen people because we’re descendants of Abraham” — and we won’t let us get away with saying “We’re adopted children of God, because we were baptized Christians and Jesus died for our sins.” No, that’s just pride and arrogance, says our very forthright Baptist.

“Show evidence,” he says. God demands proof.

Have you ever had someone repeatedly do something irritating — but they keep saying, “I’m sorry”? You might get to a point when you blurt out, “Stop saying ‘I’m sorry!’ If you’re really sorry, just don’t do this anymore. The apologies don’t mean anything if you keep going back on your word.”

Exactly! Don’t say, “I’m sorry I sinned, Lord” — and then do the same thing all over again. Talk is cheap. Instead, give some evidence that you’re trying to change.

The best evidence you can give is by the witness of your life. Our Lord said to the people in his Sermon on the Mount, “Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven” (Matt. 5:16). When you do this, God is glorified because “you bear much fruit and so prove to be My disciples” (John 15:8).

One of the most excellent demonstrations of repentance you can give God is worthily using the Sacrament of Penance. Begin with a thorough examination of conscience. Stir up your heart with love for God, and be very sorry for all your sins. Resolve that starting then and there, you will really, really make an effort to reform your life. Yes, there’s no denying that it can be hard to change old habits and patterns, but with motivation and God’s grace, it can be done! Try to figure out especially how you can avoid the old familiar near occasions of sin. 

Follow this up with a good confession. What a joyful blessing to have your sins wiped away and to receive a fresh infusion of sacramental grace! Promise yourself, too, that you’ll come often to confession so you can continue to fortify yourself. 

What a beautiful way to prepare for Our Lord’s coming at Christmas. And what a beautiful way to enjoy his presence all through the year, too.

“The kingdom of heaven is at hand,” says St. John the Baptist. Yes, indeed… it’s easily within your grasp. May our loving and generous God touch your heart today and safely guide you there.

God bless you!

Suggested reading: Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1468-1470.

John the Baptist
3rd Sunday of Advent –December 16

“A” Readings: Isa. 35:1-6. 10 • James 5:7-10 • Matt. 11:2-11

Title: John the Baptist as Our Advent Guide

Purpose: (1) to describe the fearless honesty, humility and discipline of John the Baptist; (2) to encourage those virtues in our lives, and during this Advent.

Today, we meet St. John the Baptist in his prison cell. The ancient Jewish historian, Josephus, writes that the Baptist was locked up in a place called Machaerus, King Herod’s fortress on the dreary and isolated hills east of the Dead Sea.

Once again, John’s mouth had gotten him into trouble. 

Not long ago, we met St. John while he was baptizing at the River Jordan. When the Pharisees and Sadducees came to present themselves for baptism, he railed at them: “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” (Matt. 3:7).

Ouch. Those words must have stung — and he certainly didn’t win any brownie points with the Jewish leaders.

Then, more recently, John spoke out of turn once again. Herod Antipas was the local ruler and was married to an Arab princess. But he became infatuated with Herodias, the wife of his half-brother, Philip. Herod and Herodias eloped, even though they were both married. St. John the Baptist condemned this severely. He told Herod to his face, “It is not lawful for you to have her” (Matt. 14:4). 

Herod wasn’t pleased. He had John thrown into jail — and eventually, beheaded.

Why couldn’t John just be nice? Would it kill him to be more polite?

Look at us. Christmas is just ten days away, and look how much we smile at people and try to make them happy. Maybe the kids will be visiting from across the country, and even though daughter is coming home with her boyfriend and they’ve been living together for a long time, we won’t say anything because we don’t want to have a scene at the holidays. It’s better to be nice.

And Uncle Bill will probably come by for a drink, if he’s sober enough to drive and Aunt Alice doesn’t have any obvious bruises on her face, and he’ll start in on the blacks, the Jews, the Arabs, and many other folks who are not as good as he is… but we’ll bite our lips, because we want to have peace.

And don’t forget going to Mass at Father Joe’s parish where he comes down the aisle in a Santa suit and greets the people with a very trinitarian “Ho-Ho-Ho” … and it all goes downhill from there. Oh my, oh dear, we must keep quiet. He’s a priest! 

Why is it that St. John the Baptist would speak up while we prefer to hold our tongue?

For one thing, St. John undeniably was holy. That’s why Jesus praises him today: “Truly, I say to you, among those born of women there has not arisen anyone greater than John the Baptist” (Matt. 11:11). 

What qualities did Our Lord admire in him? Certainly his humility. Do you remember when people kept asking him if he was the Messiah? He wasn’t flattered by these remarks. Thoughts of power and prestige didn’t fill his head. Instead, this very humble man said, “After me, One is coming who is mightier than I, and I am not fit to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals” (Mark 1:7). Have you ever made a comment like that about someone else? 

The Baptist also lived a very disciplined life. He didn’t let himself be swayed by earthly values or material things. A king, a Pharisee, a soldier… why, they’re just flesh-and-blood men as he is, subject to the same God and held to the same standards and commandments. As Jesus tells us, St. John wasn’t luxuriously dressed and he didn’t give a hoot about fancy food. He chose to have a single focus: Almighty God.

And because of this holiness, this humility and this radical self-discipline, John was absolutely fearless. That’s why he had the courage to speak up. You see, he wasn’t concerned with himself. He didn’t condemn anyone who insulted him or stepped on his toes or hurt him or locked him up. He bore those things silently. But when it came to the things of God — faith, true contrition, purity, holiness, justice, and so on — why, then there was no stopping him. He was a soldier of God and he would fight to the death for his Divine King. 

When we let a sin go by without a peep, we do just the opposite. That’s not a victory for peace; it’s a victory for the devil. True peace — the kind of peace that Christ wants us to have — is always based on truth and holiness.

The greatest Christmas gift we could give ourselves this year — and instill in our families — is faith and courage like St. John the Baptist’s. Pray hard for these.

Way back in the fourth century, the great saint John Chrysostom —his name means “golden mouthed,” and he got that nickname because he was such am amazing preacher and fearless Christian — was being bullied by the Roman emperor and was threatened with banishment. St. John answered him, “You can’t banish me, because the whole world is my Father’s house.” 

Then the emperor threatened him with death. The saint replied, “You can’t kill me, because my life is hidden with Christ in God.”

Then the emperor threatened to take away all his money. St. John said, “My treasure is in heaven and my heart is there, too.”

The last threat the emperor made was to deprive Chrysostom of all his friends. The saint said, “You can’t do that either, because I have a Friend in heaven from whom you cannot separate me. I defy you. There is nothing you can do to hurt me.”

All the power of Rome was powerless before such Christian courage.

Indeed, all the power of this world is powerless before the Christian courage that Jesus holds up to us today.

During the next week and a half, as we near Our Saviour’s coming at Christmas, reflect on St. John the Baptist’s greatness before God and beg the Lord to share in his humility and fearless holiness. Then the true peace of Christmas will be with you always.

God bless you!

Suggested reading: Catechism of the Catholic Church, 736, 1832, 717, 718.

Turning weeds into flowers
4th Sunday of Advent –December 23

“A” Readings: Isa. 7:10-14 • Rom. 1:1-7 • Matt. 1:18-24

Title: Mary and Joseph Prepare for Christmas

Purpose: (1) to show Mary and Joseph as faithful to God’s will; (2) to encourage similar faithfulness — to God’s Commandments, to the Church, to one’s commitments.

The early missionaries in Mexico started the custom of bringing a great number of beautiful flowers to the crib of Christ. One Christmas, the road leading to the village church was filled with hundreds of men, women and children, each carrying magnificent flowers as a token of love for the newborn Babe in the manger.

At the side of the road, there stood a small child from a poor family. She was crying.

The priest noticed her, and he asked why she was weeping on such a happy day; it was Christmas! She told him between sobs that she didn’t have money to buy any flowers for the Baby Jesus.

Father told the little girl to dry her tears and pick a tall plant growing near the side of the road.

“But Father, that’s a weed. I need a flower.”

The priest repeated, “Pick it anyway. Obedience is very important.”

As the legend goes, the child picked the weed. All at once, the green leaves started to glow with a soft, red light. When she placed it before the crib, everyone said it was the most beautiful flower of all. And ever since, the poinsettia has been the favorite Christmas flower in Mexico and many other countries, too, including our own.

In a wonderful way, we can compare Mary and Joseph to the little girl weeping at the side of the road.

At the Annunciation, Gabriel the Archangel appeared to Mary and called her highly favored — full of grace. Gabriel saw that she was shaken, so he told her not to be afraid. No sooner had she recovered from this shock, he announced the next piece of news: that God wanted her to be the mother of his Son. “But how can this be? I haven’t been with any man?”

“But Father, that’s a weed. I need a flower!”

The great archangel explained, and Mary bowed in humble obedience: “Fiat” — “Be it done unto me according to your word.”

In the Gospel of today’s Mass, Joseph has just found out that Mary is expecting a child — and the child clearly is not his. Poor Joseph doesn’t understand. He doesn’t have all the facts. He knows he still loves Mary, but he also knows that it would be a shameful disgrace before God to take her into his home. He needs to think, to pray, to consult God. His first thought is to divorce her quietly so as not to cost Mary her life or humiliate her.

Joseph knows this matter is too important to act hastily. He wants to decide in a state of peace — not uncertainty, or anger, or fear. So he decides to sleep on it.

God’s angel slips into his dreams. “Don’t worry, Joseph. Take Mary as your wife. She has conceived not by a man, but by the Holy Spirit Himself. Don’t be afraid.”

“But Father, that’s a weed. I need a flower!”

The angel explains that the child to be born, a Son, Joseph is to name Jesus and be his earthly father. And Joseph wakes up and in faith, courage and humble obedience does as the angel of the Lord directed him. He takes Mary into his home as his wife.

Each of us, on countless occasions in life, is called upon to “fly blind.” We’re confronted with a difficult problem or circumstance, and we have to make a choice. Often, these choices touch on, directly or indirectly, matters of faith or morals or justice. 

Do I choose “A,” or do I choose “B”?

Must I follow God’s Commandments, even when it appears that if I do, then I’ll probably make some situation worse? 

Do I really have to follow the teaching of the Church when logic seems to be telling me that the Church is out of step with reality or the times?

Am I honestly supposed to obey my bishop or my priest even if his advice really goes against what I want to do?

“But Father, that’s a weed. I need a flower!”

What we learn today from Mary and Joseph — and even from the little Mexican girl in our story — is that, yes, we must always be faithful to God’s will. Obviously, the trick is in discerning what God’s will is. But here’s the interesting part: if we do our best in good faith to adhere to the Commandments, the Church, our priests and our bishops, then we can be at peace that we are doing God’s will. 

In fact, whenever we are obedient to the lawful authority of another — whether it’s a parent, a teacher, a policeman, a judge, a pastor, or Christ himself — we are doing God’s will.

Yes, sometimes it’s hard. Weeds don’t ordinarily blossom into beautiful flowers. A poor fiancée thought to be pregnant by another doesn’t typically give birth to a Messiah.

“But with God, nothing will be impossible” (Luke 1:37).

Dear friends, our all-knowing God knows well your struggles, your concerns, your needs. How he loves you and wants to bless you — that’s why he’s sending Jesus on Tuesday, Christmas. Don’t be afraid to trust him, no matter what he asks. Don’t be afraid to obey him. 

Because our good and gracious Lord has been known to turn many a weed into a flower.

May God keep you and bless you and guide you always! Amen!

Suggested reading: Catechism of the Catholic Church, 490 – 507.

Go to Bethlehem
Solemnity of Christmas: Mass at Midnight —December 25

Readings: Isa. 9:1-6 • Titus 2:11-14 • Luke 2:1-14

Title: God Dwells among Us: God’s Love Takes on Flesh

Purpose: to explain the gifts of Christmas: (1) God’s greatest gift to us, his Son; (2) our gifts in return: faith, dedication to others, imitation of the Christ-life.

A young boy was walking home from school not too long ago. As he passed an empty lot, he noticed an unusually large flock of sparrows busily picking away at something they seemed to enjoy. Someone had thrown a pile of grain into the snow and the sparrows were having a delightful feast. 

The boy stopped and watched the birds for some time. He wanted to have a better look, so he walked a few steps closer. The birds fluttered a bit more than before, showing their uneasiness. Then the youngster took another step, and the sparrows hopped around still more nervously. The boy made one more step towards them, and the birds flew away.

The child frowned a bit. He thought to himself, “What’s the matter with those birds? I wasn’t going to hurt them. I just wanted a closer look.”

But then he had another thought. “The problem’s not with the birds, but with me. I’m so big that I scared them away.”

As the boy wondered how it would be possible to get in among those sparrows without scaring them off, the answer came to him — an answer that only an innocent child could imagine: “I have to become a little sparrow myself!”

Actually, the boy’s idea had already been tried in a somewhat different form — by God Almighty himself! — in the Incarnation.

In the Old Testament, God approached man many times in one form or another. But every time, man was afraid. So to win over our confidence and love, God became Man — not a full-grown Man at first, but a weak, tiny Baby lying in a manger.

This, of course, is what we celebrate today at Christmas. This is the day that God in his vast love took on flesh and came to dwell among us.

From our vantage point in the year 2001, we all know the deeper story: that Jesus came to save mankind, to redeem us. He took our sins upon himself, offered himself in sacrifice to the Father to atone on our behalf. God accepted this great price of sacrifice, and to prove it to us, he gloriously raised Jesus from the dead on Easter morning, and then sent the Holy Spirit to remain with us in his Church. 

Yes, that’s all true — and it’s certainly very God-like. But it ignores a very simple and breathtaking truth that we really get to see at Christmas: Jesus wasn’t just God masquerading as a human being. No, indeed. He really and truly became man. He really and truly became one of us.

Why? To teach us how to use our humanity to reach for divinity.

As we watch Christ grow, we see that he doesn’t use the almighty power he has as God to defeat the power of sin and the devil. After all, what help would that be to us?

Rather, in his humanity, he relies on gifts that each of us has and can use: prayer, self-denial, humility, patience, obedience, faith, charity, courage, and many others.

Yes, it’s true that we all have these gifts… but we may not know we have them… or we may not know that they’re worth cultivating… and even if we do, we may not know how to make them flourish.

So that, too, is another reason why God so generously and wonderfully sent his Son among us: to teach us! Jesus himself was to be our guide and model of how to be fully human — and to experience God’s amazing love and peace and joy.

Now, that sounds very beautiful and poetic for a Christmas sermon… but truthfully, Lord, we have so many problems in the world, so many needs, so much worry, and God, we need You so badly to help us… but what do You do? You come as a Baby wrapped in swaddling clothes! What are You doing?

St. Luke’s Gospel says that the shepherds found the baby lying in the manger as the angel had announced. And once they saw, they understood what had been told them concerning this child (Luke 2:17).

Once they saw. Not with ordinary eyesight — because that only showed them a little child in swaddling clothes. But with eyes of faith. And we must do exactly the same.

Jesus, as we all know, was born in Bethlehem. That Hebrew name means “House of Bread.” For us today, the Holy Eucharist is the continuation of Christ’s incarnation on earth. The mystery of the Eucharist gives us the joy of Christmas every day. When we come to receive Holy Communion or to visit the Lord in the Blessed Sacrament, we come to Bethlehem. And it is here most of all that Jesus teaches us the lessons we so desperately need to learn to be filled with love and goodness and peace.

He is born poor, and he teaches us that happiness is not to be found in an abundance of earthly goods. He comes into the world without fanfare, encouraging us to be humble and not depend on people’s applause or even their acceptance. God humbled himself to let us get near him, so we could love him and let him love us in all simplicity… so we wouldn’t love him just because he’s all-powerful, but also because we’re filled with wonder at his humility.

Jesus Christ, meek and gentle though he may seem, can lift us up from whatever misery we face…can lift us into peace and joy — not only in the eternal life to come, but also here and now! All it takes is for us to love him, to trust him, to have faith in him, to copy his life as best we can.

Dear friends, we must go to the stable of Bethlehem and be born again. We must change in the heart. Christ’s love must take root in our heart, and then we can advance to sainthood.

Take it step by step. Desire it. Believe it’s possible. Pray for it to happen. Let it happen by opening your eyes to the transforming power of his love — and especially by receiving his body and blood in the Most Holy Eucharist as often as you can.

Jesus knows that once we find him — really find the Lord — then our life will be different. Wonderfully, joyfully, amazingly better. That’s been his plan since all eternity.

“God so loved the world that he gave his only Son…” — to you. In the depths of your being, you already know that. Come kneel before his crib and his holy altar. Let your heart swell with his love.

May the peace and blessings of Our Lord Jesus Christ be with you this Christmas and always. God bless you!

Suggested reading: Catechism of the Catholic Church, 456-463, 495-507.

Role reversal by robert J. batule
Holy Family — December 30

Readings: Sir. 3:2-6, 12-14 • Col. 3:12-21 • Matt. 2:13-15, 19-23

Title: The Fourth Commandment: Respect for Parents; Care for Children

Purpose: (1) to explain “the Word” as the Second Person of the Trinity: (2) to explain the theological meaning of Christmas and the benefits for our life of the Incarnation.

In the Book of Exodus, we find it written: “Honor your father and your mother” (Exod. 20:12). After commanding the chosen people to honor God above everyone and everything else, the Lord imposed upon the Israelites a fourth commandment to revere that man and woman who had given life as only parents can do. The fourth commandment is the first one in the second part of the Decalogue. As the second part of the Decalogue pertains to our right relation to others, it makes perfect sense that our first obligation after God be to our parents who stand in the long line of Abraham and have received God’s promise of fecundity as did the father of many nations (Exod. 17:6).

Each year on the Feast of the Holy Family, the Church listens to a beautiful passage from the Book of Sirach. As this book is part of the wisdom literature of the Old Testament, we should expect to hear wise thoughts. God and the sacred author do not disappoint. It has been proclaimed in our midst today: “The Lord sets a father in honor over his children; a mother’s authority he confirms over her sons” (Sir. 3:2). Such wisdom seems obvious and only too plain to see. It is obvious and plain to see in families where parents are young and their children even younger. Even among permissive parents, there is surely an acknowledgement of parental prerogative and authority.

In the second part of today’s first reading, there is wise counsel given to the son: “[T]ake care of your father when he is old….Even if his mind fail, be considerate with him (Sir. 3:12-13). This sagacious advice applies to daughters and mothers too, and just as surely it applies across the sexes as it does generationally. Son, take care of your mother and, even if her mind fail, be considerate with her.

Today’s first reading allows us to hear divine wisdom and encounter truth from yet another source. This other source is the social science we call sociology. A friend of mine used to kid me that my undergraduate major, sociology, is really just the science of the obvious with some puffed-up expressions. Sociologists call the phenomenon of children taking care of their parents the reversal of dependence. As children were fed, clothed and bathed by their parents up to a certain age, so will parents receive the same kind of care from their children at a certain age. With parents living longer, sons and daughters find themselves giving the most basic care imaginable to their parents and appreciating anew just how dependent they were decades ago. In the interim, sons and daughters have managed for themselves, struck out on their own and in many cases succeeded to such a point that all they know is independence. All of a sudden with sick parents, sons and daughters discover that dependence is never something you outgrow; it’s always operative to one degree or another.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church explains the fourth commandment very well. As one would expect, the Catechism mentions the importance of children obeying their parents (2216, 2217). And in support of today’s passage from Sirach, we are reminded of the responsibilities grown children have toward their parents. The Catechism instructs “as much as they can [grown children] must give [their parents] material and moral support in old age and in times of illness, loneliness, or distress” (2218).

The idea of sons and daughters never losing their status as children is suggestive spiritually. While at the Last Supper, Jesus gave the apostles a new commandment: that they love one another (John 13:34). The newness of course derives from the pattern that the apostles now have. They are to love another as Our Lord loved each of them. As Jesus offered this commandment to the apostles, he referred to them as children (John 13:33). In the same Fourth Gospel, after Jesus had risen from the dead and appeared to the apostles on the beach, he still addressed them as children (John 21:5). The single greatest mystery of Jesus, that he who was once slain is now alive, had changed a great many things. After the Resurrection, the apostles became missionaries, the Spirit filled them with power and courage and some even surrendered their lives in martyrdom. Still, the apostles remained children. In his Letter to the Romans, Saint Paul considers those led by the Spirit of God to be sons of God (Rom. 8:14). The Spirit witnesses with our spirit that we are children of God (Rom. 8:16). And since we are children, we are heirs as well (Rom. 8:17). But the cost of inheriting the great gift of eternal life is suffering (Rom. 8:17).

From hearing confessions as a parish priest, I have some acquaintance with the difficulty involved in sons and daughters taking care of parents who are in poor health and require a lot of attention, medical and otherwise. The difficulty is made manifest in spoken regret over frustration, anger and desperation that grown children experience with parents who are sick and debilitated. On these occasions, grown children should have recourse to the wisdom of today’s second reading. In it, Saint Paul advises us to practice mercy, kindness, humility, meekness and perhaps most of all patience (Col. 3:12). This is how we are to counter the inevitable difficulty found in generational role reversal.

Aging has not robbed us of our identity as children. Once a child, always a child. In the Holy Family, Jesus did not have to care for his mother in her declining years. Many of us, however, will have to care for our parents to one extent or another in their most dependent years.

Bearing up under the difficulty of caring for aging and sick parents, we are dependent too. We are dependent upon the Holy Eucharist. Here at the Holy Eucharist, God who is Father speaks to us through his Son. This Son has suffered on Calvary but once. But this suffering is re-presented today and every day the Holy Eucharist is offered. Right before he dies, a Suffering Son establishes a dependent community: “Woman, behold, your son! [and] Behold, your mother. And from that hour the disciple took her into his home” (John 19:26-27). John’s role is reversed. Taken care of by Christ’s word for three years, he is now entrusted with taking care of the woman who bore the Word made flesh. May we carry out the role reversal which is ours with the same faith and love as the apostle John.

Suggested readings: Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2197-2213, 2214-2231.

Reverend Jeffrey Lawrence is a priest of the Diocese of Peoria, Ill. serving at St. Stephen’s Parish in Streator, Ill. A convert from Judaism, Fr. Lawrence practiced law, was creative director and a principal in an advertising agency, and was a consumer magazine publisher before his ordination to the priesthood as a “late vocation.” His last series of homilies appeared in April 2000.