The Truth of Things

(The following is a homily given to the Enid Catholic Community on the Solemnity of the Nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ: Christmas (12/25/15)

Tonight we celebrate the sacred mystery of God-made-Man – The birth of Christ.  And in so doing, we celebrate the truth of things.     

Tonight the wickedness of the earth is destroyed; the Savior of the world has come to reign over us. (see Alleluia for vigil).  God proclaims to us good news of great joy that our Savior is born for us. (see Alleluia for midnight), and that a holy day has dawned upon us, beckoning us to adore the great light who has come upon the earth (see alleluia for day Mass).  And this is the truth of things.

In the bustle of buying gifts that will rust or decay; in the onslaught of what this world thinks the “holiday season” is about – namely that we get along and be friendly; in the hopes dashed by disappointment or the dreams crushed by superficiality and greed – we find ourselves called to celebrate in the truth of things.

In doing so, we celebrate all of the truth.  Not just the niceties of the season, but the reason for such a scandalous season as this.  And make no mistake – this is scandalous.  That God would humiliate himself by taking on the nature of dust in comparison to His Glory is utterly scandalous.  And yet, this is the truth of things.

This is the truth that our fallen world wishes that we would forget.  If we forget the stakes to which Our God loves us, it is easier to say “no” to Him.  It is easier to dismiss our universal call to holiness.  It is easier to say “maybe next Sunday I’ll go to Mass.  Maybe next month I’ll go to confession.  Maybe next year I’ll ‘try to be a better person’” – whatever that might mean.

You see, our fallen world wishes for us to be blind to the glorious gift we have been given, and for which we celebrate tonight.  It wants us to think that Christmas is all about the lights, the presents, the family get-togethers, the music.  It wants us to think of Jesus as the porcelain doll in the wooden crate we bring out this time of year, and then put back its crate for safe keeping the rest of the year.

In the end, our fallen world wants us to forget that this glorious night represents a preparation for us as it was for Christ.  This night marks the true beginning of that which we will come to celebrate in a few months; an event that is even more scandalous than God becoming Man; an event at which the angels of God, which tonight sing glorious praise, will be hushed with awe and wonder; an event of scandalous love for a fallen world: the Passion, death, and resurrection of him who tonight we are called to accept into our hearts.

My brothers and sisters, tonight is not only a memorial of the dawning of Light in our fallen world some 2 thousand years ago.  Tonight is meant to prod us on in our journey of faith to welcome that same light into our very souls.  It is meant to dispel the darkness within us, to cast out our fears, and to teach us how to join the angels in praising God. 

This is the truth of things.  It is a truth that gives us the power to become children of God.  It is a truth that gives us the strength to proclaim from the highest height the glad tidings of Salvation (see Is 52).  And it is a truth that fills us with the grace of one word: love.

May the truth of God’s Love, which has been so scandalously lavished upon us in the Person of Christ Jesus, be celebrated by us tonight and always.  

Amen.

Five Simple Words

(The following is a homily given to the Catholic Community of Enid on the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary, 12/08/15)

Reading 1 Gn 3:9-15, 20

Responsorial Psalm PS 98:1, 2-3ab, 3cd-4

Reading 2 Eph 1:3-6, 11-12

Gospel Lk 1:26-38

Today we celebrate a doctrine, summed up in five simple words, that has paved a way to salvation for us.  Five simple words which speak to us about the extraordinary Grace of God; of the humility of his most beautiful masterpiece of creations; and speak to who God is for those who believe in Him, and who we can be if we say “yes” to God.

Five simple words – “I am the Immaculate Conception.”

The Immaculate Conception of the blessed Virgin Mary was a belief held by the church since late antiquity, but it had not been made officially dogma until Pope Pius IX did so in the year 1854. 

This dogma helps us understand how Mary could have been exempt from the stain of original sin.  It tells us that “by a singular privilege and grace granted by God, in view of the merits of Jesus Christ,” Mary had been freed of the debt of original sin before it came due for her.  It shows us that she was just as in need of the redemption of her son as we are, but precisely because she was to be the Mother of God, she was to receive her redemption in advance so as to “make straight the path of the Lord.” (see John 1:23)

But when Our Lady came to a 14-year-old peasant girl in France named Bernadette Soubirous in 1858, she qualified the statement.  Bernadette had asked her for a name, not knowing who the “beautiful lady” was who visited her near the waters of the Pau River.  Finally, she received these five words: “I am the Immaculate Conception.”

By saying this, Our Lady unlocked for us not only how she had been freed of original sin, but why.  Our Lady’s very identity – her very existence -- comes from the extraordinary gift of grace given to her by God from the moment she came to be. She had not simply been immaculately conceived, as if receiving a token of friendship with our God, or removing a dirty garment.  No: she is born of grace.  She is the masterpiece of God’s handiwork.  And she points to what we are called to be as well.

My brothers and sisters, The Immaculate Conception is the person of the Blessed Virgin, redeemed by the blood of her savior and her son.  She calls her children to share in this gift of redemption by recognizing Who bestows such grace.  Our Lady did not save us.  That was not her role, nor was it within her capacity to fill. What our Lady did do is say “yes” to God (see Lk 1:378), and so pave a way for us to follow to salvation. 

May we follow the way she has paved for us.  May we recognize in her a sign which points us to Christ Jesus, who is our brother by his human nature given to him through his Mother, and who is our God by his nature as the only Begotten Son of the Most High.

 

To Be "Free and Whole and True"

(The following is a homily given to the Catholic Community of Enid on the 2nd Sunday in Advent, 12/06/15)

Reading 1 Bar 5:1-9 

Responsorial Psalm Ps 126:1-2, 2-3, 4-5, 6

Reading 2 Phil 1:4-6, 8-11

Gospel Lk 3:1-6

In the 14h century, the poet Dante Alighieri wrote his famous Divine Comedy, where he chronicled, in epic fashion, a tour of the afterlife.  Starting in the Infernal torments of hell, Dante slowly progresses to the very heights of Paradise, giving his listeners an artistic glimpse of the life of the world to come.

My favorite part of the Divine Comedy has always been the middle section, entitled “Purgatorio,” or purgatory.  This place – described as a mountain pushed out of the earth as a consequence of the fall of Satan from heaven, comes to be a stairway for the faithful, leading to the gates of paradise.

Dante describes Purgatory as having levels that help the individual soul come to grips with the consequences of sin in its past life, thereby giving the soul the power to lay down its attachment to the sin, and so prepare for sanctity in its completion.  Like Jerusalem in our first reading today, the soul swaps it earthly robe of misery for God’s glory (see first reading).  Wrapped in the cloak of God’s justice and mercy, it is lifted to “stand upon the heights,” free of the pain of sin, and cleansed of the grime of worldly desire, thereby making its judgment on all matters “free and whole and true.” (see Dante's Divine Comedy: Purgatorio, Canto 27, line 140)

In a very real way, Dante’s idea of this state of purification speaks to what this time of Advent ought to be for us.  As St. Paul tells us today, we must prepare for the Paradise of Christ Jesus by “increase[ing our] love more and more, in knowledge and every kind of perception, to discern what is [truly] of value, so that [we] may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ.” (see second reading) 

Advent gives us hope, because it is grounded in the security of God’s glory (see first reading).  Therefore, In hope, we look forward to our own inner conversion, where the pearl of great price -- which is the love and mercy of God – is meant to reside.  In hope we ascend our own mountain of preparation and renewal, knowing that the LORD has done great things for us, filing us with joy. (see Resp. Ps.)  And in hope, we courageously prepare our lives to receive the redemption so freely given to us in the Person of Christ Jesus.

We often think that hope is passive.  That we simply sit around in expectation for something to happen.  But St. John the Baptist shows us in our Gospel reading today that this is not the case.  John’s life was that of hope and expectation, and we see these qualities through his ascetic life and passionate preaching of repentance and forgiveness. 

John’s willingness to be a voice “crying out in the desert” allowed God to use him to prepare His way, making straight God’s paths of justice and mercy so that the effects of sins could be wiped away, filling in the valleys of loneliness and humbling the mountains of shame (see Gospel)

This time of year asks us to follow in John the Baptist’s footsteps.  It prepares us to witness God’s redemption by calling us to hope.  Are we willing to do this?  Can we hope in God’s mercy and love for us?  Are we able to show our hope through our willingness to change through repentance and forgiveness?

We do not hope in vain, my brothers and sisters.  We hope in the Person of Christ the Lord who is willing and able to transform us from our sinfulness into his glory.  With confidence, may we abide in hope.  May we hope for the time when we are “free and whole and true.”

"Open the Gates"

(The following is a homily given at St. Francis Xavier Catholic Church, Enid OK, on the memorial of St. Francis Xavier, Priest – 12/03/15)

Reading 1 Is 26:1-6

Responsorial Psalm PS 118:1 and 8-9, 19-21, 25-27a

Gospel Mt 7:21, 24-27

Today we celebrate the feast of our patron, St. Francis Xavier.  This saint lived a life of selfless love for those who had not heard the message of Christ, going to the people of Asia, and particularly to India. This was the ends of the world during his time.  Uncharted territory for the West.  Yet he knew the vocation God had given him was one of dispelling the darkness of ignorance and unknowing so that the Gospel could transform the world.

Echoing the words of our psalm today, Francis Xavier wished to “open the gates of justice, [and so welcome others to] enter them and give thanks to the LORD.” (see Ps 118).  He knew the power of Christ’s message, and so wished for everyone to listen to His saving words. 

St. Francis wished to open the gates of justice and mercy to every human person because each is made in the image and likeness of God.  In bringing the Good News to those who had never heard it, he stressed to those of us who have to not only listen to what we have heard, but to act upon it.

In a special way, we are the disciples of our patron in the world today.  We have been called to open the gates of our hearts so that we may listen and act on the words of salvation given to us here, and so make it available to a world in need of justice and mercy. 

With courage, let us follow in the footsteps of our patron.  Let us “forget [our] own desires, [our] human affairs, and give [ourselves] over entirely to God’s Will and his choice.” (see Office of Readings, Memorial of St. Francis Xavier)

Then the gates of justice and mercy will be open to us.  Then we will have the ability to “cry out with all [our] heart: Lord, I am here!  What do you want me to do?" Then we will have to courage to say to our Lord:  "Send me anywhere you like” (ibid.)

– even to the wind-swept plains of Enid.

Ends and Beginnings

(The following is a homily given the Catholic Community of Enid on the First Sunday of Advent, 11/29/15)

Reading 1 Jer 33:14-16

Responsorial Psalm Ps 25:4-5, 8-9, 10, 14

Reading 2 1 Thes 3:12—4:2

Gospel Lk 21:25-28, 34-36

Today marks the end of an age, and the beginning of another.  With this season of Advent, our Church prepares itself for the coming of a day of unimaginable glory and peace.  But in order to get to that day, it has to get through other days.  Days of struggle; days of purification.  

“The days are coming… when [the LORD] will fulfill the promise [he] made to [His people] of exultation (see Reading 1), but first there will be darkness and anticipation.

 “In those [joyous] days [to come],” there will be safety and security, but first “nations will be in dismay” and “the powers of the heavens will be shaken” to their foundations.

Why must this happen?  Why does our merciful God place such a burden upon the shoulders of his people?  In order to get to some semblance of an answer, maybe we should look at what our Church gives us to ponder in this liturgical season.

This time of year gives us a glimpse of what is at stake for our religion.  Advent is a time of expectation and preparation.  It is a time where we come to understand that the world around us is not what we are striving for, but rather what we strive for is a world not yet fully realized. 

This time of year is meant to show us that “the days are coming” when God will visit his people again, as he did 2000 years ago, only this time in a glorified state of justice and righteousness, bringing to a definitive end the tears shed in pain and sorrow.  But that these days are not yet.

We all know this, because we all experience the suffering of this world, at some level.  Yes, we share in the joys of life and love which surround us, but if we are honest with ourselves, we know that these glimpses of truth, beauty, and goodness are just that – glimpses into a world at which we have not yet arrived.

This season of Advent reminds us that this waiting, this anticipation was foreshadowed for us.  For 4,000 years of recorded history, the Israelites wondered the desert of unknowing and sin, desperately grasping at the scraps of goodness around it in order to fill the void left by the sin of Adam.  They cried out, begging God to “make known” His ways; to “teach [His] paths [of] truth and [salvation]” (Ps.) to a people in need of His love.

This season of Advent tells us of the ongoing struggle for sanctity even now.  Recognizing our continued efforts to “increase … in love” Advent “earnestly ask[s]” us to not only continue conducting ourselves in a way that pleases God, but to “do so even more.” (see Reading 2).

Advent tells us to “be vigilant at all times” (See Gospel Reading) in the face of a world that seems to be crumbling before us with the weight and decay of sin.  For it is sin with which we struggle.  It is sin that traps us here, like gilded prison bars, deceiving us into thinking that the world in which we live is all there is. 

With this understanding of the Advent season, I think that we find our answer to the question of suffering.  It is not a burden that a demanding God placing on our shoulders, but rather a loving releasing from us the chains of sin that we have worn so long that their weight is all we know.  The “carousing” lifestyle of the listless; the “drunkenness of the complacent, “The anxieties of daily life” – these burdens must be removed from us so that we are able to experience those days to come when the God of the Universe lifts us out of this foreign wasteland into the place we have been destined for since God loved us into existence. 

And so, my friends, today marks the end of an age -- the age of sin, and the beginning of the era of Love.  Love is what has the power to cleanse us of the grime of what is to prepare us for what is to come.

Are we willing to endure this cleansing?  Are we prepared to “be vigilant” in our hope for mercy?

As one faith, one people, let us "stand erect and raise [our] heads because [our] redemption is at hand." (see Gospel Reading)