“All nations will come to climb the mountain of the Lord,” the Prophet Isaiah says in our Advent readings. Joining Portuguese merchants, Saint Francis Xavier went to far-off Asia, not for its exotic spices and goods, but to call all nations to follow Jesus Christ.
For 10 years, Francis Xavier labored in India, Japan and southeast Asia to bring the gospel to the native peoples of these lands. In a letter to St. Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the Jesuits, he explains that he’s so busy teaching and baptizing he has hardly a minute to himself. “Send help,” he says.
“Many, many people hereabouts are not becoming Christians for one reason only: there is nobody to make them Christians. Again and again I have thought of going round the universities of Europe, especially Paris, and everywhere crying out like a madman, riveting the attention of those with more learning than charity: ‘What a tragedy: how many souls are being shut out of heaven and falling into hell, thanks to you!’”
He’s driven by missionary zeal. Today, unfortunately, we’re becoming more like those university people in Paris– concerned about ourselves and ready to let the rest of the world go by.
The statue of Saint Francis Xavier above is in the beautiful church of the Sacred Heart in Springfield, MA, where Father Theodore Foley went as a boy. Was it put there after a Novena of Grace preached by some Jesuit missionaries, I wonder? How many people, like Theodore Foley, heard the story of the fiery missionary and saw themselves called to be missionaries ?
The Prophet Isaiah’s call to the nations is not confined to his time. God’s mission to the nations is for our time too.
“The calf and the young lion shall browse together, with a little child to guide them. A shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse, and from his roots a bud shall blossom.” (Isaiah 11,1)
A child stands atop Isaiah’s peaceable kingdom in Tuesday’s first reading at Mass. Edward Hicks, the Quaker painter, made over 100 copies of this scene from Isaiah, carefully indicating in the far left the peace treaty between William Penn and the native peoples of Pennsylvania in colonial America.
It takes a child to believe the astounding promises Isaiah makes. Adults, hardened by the experience of life, struggle with the prophet’s words. That’s why Advent invites us to become children, not physically, of course, but spiritually.
Become like little children. That’s what Jesus told his followers, and he praised the childlike:
“I give you praise, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned, you have revealed them to the childlike.” Luke 10
Only the childlike believe in great promises.
What does being “childlike” mean? Here’s what St. Leo the Great said about Jesus’s teaching on spiritual childhood: To be a child means to be “free from crippling anxiety, to be forgetful of injuries, to be sociable and to keep wondering at all things.”
A little child in its mother’s arms has no worries. It’s a good place to be, free from anxieties and a mother’s voice promising all will be well. Advent brings that grace back to us; a grace we can lose so easily.
Jesus experienced that grace in Mary’s arms. Herod’s soldiers, like Isaiah’s Assyrian armies, were on their way. It’s a poor place where he’s born, no room in the inn, but the Child in his mother’s arms has no fear. All will be well.
Injuries come. The world can turn hostile. The promises may seem far away, but from infancy to his death, Jesus knew he was a child of God, his Father, in God’s caring hands and destined for God’s kingdom.
November 30th is the Feast of St. Andrew. On the lakeshore in Galilee Jesus called him and his brother Simon Peter to follow him. We only know a few details about Andrew. What are they?
He’s a fisherman, of course. Andrew is a Greek name. Why would a Jew have a Greek name? The area around the Sea of Galilee was then multi-cultural, and Andrew’s family were originally from Bethsaida, a trading town in the upper part of the Sea of Galilee with a substantial Greek population. Would that explain why they may have spoken some Greek? Afterwards they located in Capernaum, another trading town close by.
Could that explain why later in John’s gospel, Andrew and Philip bring some Greek pilgrims to Jesus before his death in Jerusalem. Jesus rejoices, seeing them as signs that his passion and glorification will draw all nations to him. One sees why the Greek church has Andrew as its chief patron: he introduced them to Jesus.
Bethsaida, on the northern shore of the Seas of Galilee, has been recently excavated.
Bethsaida: Winegrowers house
Bethsaida: Ruins
Bethsaida: Ruins
Andrew seems to have an interest in religious questions. He’s described as a disciple of John the Baptist, who points Jesus out to him. Jesus then invites Andrew and another disciple to stay for a day with him. “Come and see.” Afterwards, Andrew “found his brother Simon and said to him ‘We have found the Messiah.’” (John 1,35-41)
I notice too that Andrew bring the little boy with the bread and fish to the attention of Jesus.
The Greek Church sees Andrew as the first of the apostles because he’s the first to follow Jesus; then he calls his brother. Western and eastern Christian churches together celebrate his feast on November 30th.
The letter to the Romans, the first reading for his feast in the Roman Catholic liturgy, stresses there is no distinction between Jew and Greek, and praises messengers who bring God’s word to others. Tradition says Andrews brought the gospel to the Greeks, and also claims that Andrew was crucified on the beach at Patras in Greece. Besides Greece, Andrew’s also the patron of Russia and Scotland.
We ask you, O Lord, that, just as the blessed Apostle Andrew was for your Church a preacher and pastor, so he may be for us a constant intercessor before you.
Troparion (Tone 4) (Greek Orthodox)
Andrew, first-called of the Apostles and brother of the foremost disciple, entreat the Master of all to grant peace to the world and to our souls great mercy. Kontakion (Tone 2)
Let us praise Andrew, the herald of God, the namesake of courage, the first-called of the Savior’s disciples and the brother of Peter. As he once called to his brother, he now cries out to us:
“Come, for we have found the One whom the world desires!”
Finally, from John Chrysostom in our Office of Reaadings today, we learn how to read the scriptures:
After Andrew had stayed with Jesus and had learned much from him, he did not keep this treasure to himself, but hastened to share it with his brother. Notice what Andrew said to him: We have found the Messiah, that is to say, the Christ. Notice how his words reveal what he has learned in so short a time. They show the power of the master who has convinced them of this truth. They reveal the zeal and concern of men preoccupied with this question from the very beginning. Andrew’s words reveal a soul waiting with the utmost longing for the coming of the Messiah, looking forward to his appearing from heaven, rejoicing when he does appear, and hastening to announce so great an event to others. To support one another in the things of the spirit is the true sign of good will between brothers, of loving kinship and sincere affection.
Notice, too, how, even from the beginning, Peter is docile and receptive in spirit. He hastens to Jesus without delay. He brought him to Jesus, says the evangelist. But Peter must not be condemned for his readiness to accept Andrew’s word without much weighing of it. It is probable that his brother had given him, and many others, a careful account of the event; the evangelists, in the interest of brevity, regularly summarise a lengthy narrative. Saint John does not say that Peter believed immediately, but that he brought him to Jesus. Andrew was to hand him over to Jesus, to learn everything for himself. There was also another disciple present, and he hastened with them for the same purpose.
When John the Baptist said: This is the Lamb, and he baptizes in the Spirit, he left the deeper understanding of these things to be received from Christ. All the more so would Andrew act in the same way, since he did not think himself able to give a complete explanation. He brought his brother to the very source of light, and Peter was so joyful and eager that he would not delay even for a moment.
Santa came to town for Macy’s annual Thanksgiving Parade. From the parade he went into the store for Black Friday and he will be there for the rest of the days till Christmas.
More than a salesman, Santa’s a saint– Saint Nicholas– and he reminds us Christmas is for giving rather than getting. His quiet giving mirrors God’s love shown in Jesus Christ.
Telling his story is one of the ways we can save Santa Claus from being captured by Macys and Walmart and all the rest. First, take a look at our version for little children, which has over 200,000 views on YouTube. How about telling that story to a real little kid you know? Wouldn’t you rather they know someone like him than the guy in the store in a red suit?
Then, you might want to go on to our modest contribution for bigger children– like us:
Thanksgiving is a good time to remember our blessings, starting with Creation itself . I’m sure that was Noah’s prayer when God delivered him.
All-powerful God,
you are present in the whole universe
and in the smallest of your creatures.
You embrace with your tenderness all that is.
Pour out upon us the power of your love,
that we may protect life and beauty.
Fill us with peace, that we may live
as brothers and sisters, harming no one.
O God of the poor,
rescue the abandoned
and forgotten of this earth,
so precious in your eyes.
Bring healing to our lives,
that we may protect the world and not prey on it,
that we may sow beauty,
not pollution and destruction.
Touch the hearts
of those who look only for gain
at the expense of the poor and the earth.
Teach us to discover the worth of each thing,
We thank you for being with us each day.
Encourage us, we pray, as we struggle
for justice, love and peace.
On November 18th, we honor the great apostles, Peter and Paul, remembering the dedication of the two ancient churches built over their graves. Peter is honored in the Vatican Basilica of St. Peter; Paul is honored in the Basilica of St. Paul, outside the Aurelian Walls along the Via Ostiense. The two apostles are founders and teachers of the Roman church.
Constantine built churches over the apostles’ graves in the middle of the 4th century. Besides honoring the apostles Peter and Paul, the churches were part of a wider plan of prayer, instruction and pilgrimage still seen in the Holy Year pilgrimages to Rome today. An early example of evangelization and catechesis.
From earliest times pilgrims followed a path from one church to the other, visiting a number of other Christian shrines – St. Agnes and St. Lawrence, for example–on their way. A later pilgrim map based on that ancient pilgrimage journey offers an example.
Pilgrim Map, 17th century, Wikipedia Commons
Peter was crucified on the Vatican Hill in 64 near the obelisk not far from the circus of the emperors Caligula and Nero and was butried nearby. Constantine erected a basilica over his burial site in 326, while Sylvester was pope. Later in 1626 the present basilica replaced Constantine’s church. It’s in the process of reconstruction in the illustration above. Recent excavations have confirmed Peter’s burial place under the papal altar of this church.
Paul, tradition says, was beheaded on the Ostian Way, outside the ancient city walls, in 67. Constantine built a shrine church over the gave in 325; it was enlarged by Theodosius I in386. The church was rebuilt after a fire in 1823, according to its original measurements. The apostle’s grave lies before the main altar of the church.
Defend your Church, O Lord, by the protection of the holy Apostles, that, as she received from them. the beginnings of her knowledge of things divine, so through them she may receive, even to the end of the world, an increase in heavenly grace. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son. (Collect for the feast)
This week’s Mass readings from the 1st Book of Maccabees tell the story of the re-dedication of the temple of Jerusalem three years after its profanation by Antiochus Epiphanes. About the year 167 BC, Jews under Judas Maccabeus took up the weapons of their time, re-conquered Jerusalem and restored the temple, the heart of their religion.
The first reading on Friday describes the rededication of the temple to its former glory. The Jews continue to celebrate it in the feast of Hannukah. (1 Maccabees 4,36-61}
The New Testament writers, certainly aware of this historic event, recall Jesus cleansing the temple.(Friday’s gospel) Entering Jerusalem after his journey from Galilee, “ Jesus went into the temple area and proceeded to drive out those who were selling things, saying to them, ‘It is written, My house shall be a house of prayer, but you have made it a den of thieves.’” Then, “every day he was teaching in the temple area” until he was arrested and put to death. (Luke 19,45-48)
Cleansing the temple was a symbolic act. By it, Jesus signified he is the presence of God, the Word made flesh, the new temple of God.
Luke says Jesus taught in the temple “every day.” Even from his early days he taught in the temple, Luke writes. As our eternal high priest, he teaches us every day and brings us every day to his Father and our Father.
Jesus is the indestructible temple, the indestructible Presence of God among us. Witnesses at his trial before he died were half right when they said he spoke of destroying the temple. He was speaking of the temple of his own body. Death seemed to destroy him, but he was raised up bodily on the third day.We share in this mystery as “members of his body.”
Still, as sacramental people we need places like temples and churches to come together, to pray and to meet God who “dwells among us.” We need churches and holy places and instinctively revolt seeing them go, or not frequented.
Old stories, like the story of the Maccabees, carry lessons and raise questions. The Maccabees took the military option to restore and pursue the Kingdom. What are our military options today when we have atomic weapons, drones, cryptoweaponry at our disposal? New laws? Persuasion?
If saints are antidotes to the poison of their times, as Chesterton said, Martin of Tours is a saint worth reflecting upon. So, what poison did Martin confront?
One was the poison of militarism. Martin was born into a military family in 316, his father a Roman officer who arose through the ranks and commanded the legions on the Roman frontier along the Rhine and Danube rivers. When his son was born his father saw him as a soldier like himself and named him Martin, after Mars, the god of war.
Rome was mobilizing then to stop invading barbarian tribes, and soldiers, like the emperors Constantine and Diocletian, were its heroes. But Martin wanted nothing to do with war. As a young boy he heard a message of peace and non-violence from Christians he knew. Instead of a soldier, he became a Christian catechumen, over his father’s strong objections.
Martin was a lifelong peacemaker. He died on his way as a bishop to settle a dispute among his priests.
Another poison Martin confronted was the poison of careerism. Elected bishop of Tours by the people, Martin adopted a lifestyle unlike that of other bishops of Gaul, who were increasingly involved in imperial administration and adopted the privileged style that came with an imperial administrator.
Bishops set themselves up in the cities; Martin preferred to minister in the country, to the “pagani”, the uneducated poor. He established monasteries and the simple Christian life they promoted. The great monastic settlements that contributed to the evangelization of Gaul were largely his legacy.
Are the poisons of militarism and careerism around today? We remember our war veterans today.So many died in terrible wars these 100 years and many bear the scars of war. Militarism, the glamorizing of war, is still around. So is careerism .
Finally, martyrdom was the great sign of holiness in Martin’s day, but Martin witnessed to another kind of martyrdom, the martyrdom of everyday. That could happen in embracing monasticism or religious life. It also could take place in embracing fully one’s own state in life. Martin was a martyr of another kind. For all these reasons, he is an important saint on our church calendar.
The story that epitomizes Martin, of course, is his meeting with a beggar in a cold winter as he was coming through the gate in the town of Amiens. Still a soldier but also a Christian catechumen, he stopped and cut his military cloak in two and gave one to the poor man. That night, the story goes, Christ appeared to him in a dream, wearing the beggar’s cloak. “Martin gave me this,” he said.
Pope Benedict XVI commented on this event.
“ Martin’s gesture flows from the same logic that drove Jesus to multiply the loaves for the hungry crowd, but most of all to leave himself to humanity as food in the Eucharist… It’s the logic of sharing.
May St Martin help us to understand that only by a common commitment to sharing is it possible to respond to the great challenge of our times: to build a world of peace and justice where each person can live with dignity. This can be achieved if an authentic solidarity prevails which assures to all inhabitants of the planet food, water, necessary medical treatment, and also work and energy resources as well as cultural benefits, scientific and technological knowledge.”
Well said.
In medieval Europe farmers, getting ready for winter at this time, put aside food and meat for the cold days ahead. Martin’s feast day was their reminder to put aside something for the poor. The poor are always with us; are we remembering them?
Today Veterans’ Day in the USA honors those who fought in our country’s wars. It was originally called Armistice Day celebrating the end of fighting between the Allies and Germany on November 11, 1918. The United States lost 116,516 troops in the 1st World War; other countries lost millions more. The wars that followed added to that count.
Tomorrow is Veterans Day, honoring those who fought in our country’s wars. It was originally called Armistice Day celebrating the end of fighting between the Allies and Germany on November 11, 1918. The United States lost 116,516 troops in the 1st World War; other countries lost millions more. The wars that followed added to that count.
Our church calendar today celebrates the Feast of St. Martin of Tours, the great 5th century saint, who is remembered especially as the soldier who gave a beggar half of his cloak on a freezing day at the gate of that city. Son of a Roman officer, Martin chose to become a monk, a man of peace, instead of a soldier. He died on a peace-making visit to a squabbling church in the diocese where he had become bishop.
As a bishop, Martin lived a noticeably poor life; he lived and dressed as a poor man, his biographers say. Poor in spirit, he identified with the poor. Evidently, the beggar he met at the gate of Tours had a lasting effect on him. In a dream that night, Christ told him he was the beggar Martin clothed that day.
It was customary in Europe for farmers to put away meat for the winter on St. Martin’s feast. They were also urged to put away a portion for the poor this day too.
In Martin’s time as bishop, a group of Christians were following a teacher named Priscillian, who was convinced that the evil in the world was so ingrained in life that only severe ascetical practices could root it out. Other bishops convinced the imperial authorities that the leaders of this heretical group should be executed. Their execution marked the first attempt by Christian leaders to stop heresy by killing those suspected of it.
Martin was against the execution. He believed you didn’t deal with people with wrong ideas by killing them; you had to live with them. You need to have a soldier’s heart to do that.
Pope John XXIII was an admirer of Martin of Tours. I think he wrote a thesis about him. After he was elected pope he wanted to go and pray at his shrine. Another soldier of a sort.
All politics is local, the saying goes. But let’s hope politicians–and we who elect them– go beyond local interests and ourselves. The Second Vatican Council says it well:
“Christians should co-operate, willingly and wholeheartedly, in building an international order based on genuine respect for legitimate freedom and on a brotherhood of universal friendship. This is all the more urgent because the greater part of the world still experiences such poverty that in the voices of the poor Christ himself can be heard, crying out for charity from his followers.
There are nations, many of them with a Christian majority, which enjoy an abundance of goods, while others are deprived of the necessities of life, and suffer from hunger, disease and all kinds of afflictions. This scandal must be removed from the human family, for the glory of Christ’s Church and its testimony to the world are the spirit of poverty and the spirit of love.”
Beautiful image in that quote–the poor are the “voices of the poor Christ’.” Unfortunately, politicians –and those who elect them (us)– only hear their own voices and interests. Politicians should listen to voices seldom heard, and so should we.
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