Don’t forget to bless your Christmas Tree which reminds us that, besides the blessings of the human family, we’re blessed through creation.
Long ago, God placed a tree of life in the garden of paradise as a sign of the wisdom, knowledge, and every good thing the created world brings us.
Our Christmas Tree reminds us of creation’s blessings and the blessings we receive through Jesus Christ who renews the created world through his coming.
John the Baptist is a voice that passes away, according to St. Augustine: “John is the voice, but the Lord is the Word who was in the beginning. John is the voice that lasts for a time; from the beginning Christ is the Word who lives for ever.”
John’s “voice” passes away. He no longer baptizes at the Jordan River. He cedes to the Word, and so should we. Our voice passes away; something of ourselves has to go– some of the things we hold dear, the friends who surround us, the institutions that have upheld us. Our way must give way to God’s way.
We think so little of this.
Listen again to Augustine: “What does prepare the way mean, if not be humble in your thoughts? We should take our lesson from John the Baptist. He is thought to be the Christ; he declares he is not what they think. He does not take advantage of their mistake to further his own glory.
“If he had said, “I am the Christ,” you can imagine how readily he would have been believed, since they believed he was the Christ even before he spoke. But he did not say it; he acknowledged what he was. He pointed out clearly who he was; he humbled himself.
“He saw where his salvation lay. He understood that he was a lamp, and his fear was that it might be blown out by the wind of pride.”
Most people see the season of Advent as a time to prepare for the birth of Christ in Bethlehem. The angel announces his coming to Mary; the shepherds and the wise men visit him as an infant. He’s presented in the temple. Advent is a time to put up the creche, the tree and the lights. Most see Advent in a linear, historical way, within the time frame of those few events.
But Advent is about the mystery of the Incarnation. Jesus not only became human in Mary’s womb and was born in Bethlehem. He became part of the humanity of his time and indeed all time, our time.
He came in the fulness of time.The readings early on in Advent speak about the beginning and end of the world. Most of Advent’s Old Testament readings are from the Prophet Isaiah who promises that all nations will come to Jerusalem’s holy mountain when the Messiah appears. Many of our early Advent readings are about John the Baptist and his ministry. Jesus entered the company of prophets like Elijah, Isaiah and John who not only tell us of the coming Messiah, but tell us what his mission will be and what happens because he embraces that mission.
Advent takes us beyond the events of Jesus’ birth.
Today’s gospel says Jesus entered the temple on his final journey to Jerusalem and he’s questioned and opposed by the chief priests and elders of the people. They will put him to death. (Matthew 21: 23-27)
Our liturgy, like the scriptures, is not simply linear and historical in its approach to Jesus. We’re invited to see things “ as it was in the beginning, is now and will be forever, world without end.” This is the way God sees things.
“Come thou long-expected Jesus, born to set thy people free; from our fears and sins release us, let us find our rest in thee.
Israel’s strength and consolation, joy of all the earth thou are; dear desire of every nation, joy of every longing heart.” (Charles Wesley)
There’s a little stable not too far from here.
It sits in a church that has seen better days.
The parish is poor and the people seem to disappear.
But a few persistent peasants won’t stay away.
I love it there.
The priest is wonderfully uncertain.
He is afraid of God.
He instinctively bows his head at the mention of the name.
He knows how little he is in front of the great star.
I imagine he was involved in setting the stable.
It is a good size, on the relative little-stable scale.
It is surrounded by ever-green branches.
Probably snipped from the few Douglas Firs placed around the altar and yet to be trimmed.
The stable itself is composed of wood.
A little wooden railing crosses half the front.
A single string of clear lights threads through the branches laid upon the miniature roof.
They are yet to be lit.
I love it there.
I kneel before the empty scene.
For as of yet, not a creature or prop is present.
Not an ox or a goat, not a piece of hay or plank of fencing.
Not even a feeding trough that is to be turned into a crib.
No visible sign of Joseph and Mary, nor a distant “hee-haw” of a very tired donkey.
I wonder if I could get involved.
Perhaps I could slip into the scene.
There’s a darkened corner on the lower left.
In the back, against the wall.
I could hide myself within the stable.
Before anyone else arrives.
I don’t think they would mind.
I’d only be there to adore.
To pay homage to the new born king.
I might even help keep the animals in line.
Yes, a stagehand, that’s what I can be!
I know there’s no curtain to pull.
That’s to be torn in a much later scene.
But to watch the Incarnation unfold from within!
That’s what I dream.
To see each player take his and her place.
To see the great light locate the babe.
To watch the kings and shepherds stumble onto the scene.
Hark! To hear the herald angels sing!
O the joy of being a simple farmhand.
Of being in the right place at always the right time.
Of course though I wouldn’t be alone.
In that darkened corner, also awaiting the entire affair, there are many others.
Most I don’t know by name.
Too many in fact to even count.
But a few I know for sure.
For certain, present are those few persistent peasants who won’t stay away.
And of course there’s that wonderful anonymous parish priest.
The one who helped set into place this yet empty but very expectant stable.
The one whose fear of God is so clearly the beginning of wisdom.
(Dec/16/2016)
Howard Hain is a contemplative layman, husband, and father. He blogs at http://www.howardhain.com
Jesus was a companion to the prophets, our weekday readings reminded us last week. The gospel readings for this week remind us he met fierce opposition, like the prophets before him. Matthew’s gospel read the first few day of this week recalls how the chief priests and elders refuse to accept him when he arrives in Jerusalem towards the end of his ministry. They’re blind to who Jesus Christ is. (Matthew 21,23-27)
By contrast, the Book of Numbers (Monday) tells the story of Balaam the prophet, who recognizes the presence of God in the tribes of Israel and refuses a handsome payout to curse them, but blesses them instead. Even his donkey gets it right.
In the gospel for Tuesday, Jesus scolds the chief priests and rulers of the people for their blindness to him and John the Baptist before him: “Amen, I say to you, tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the Kingdom of God before you. When John came to you in the way of righteousness, you did not believe him; but tax collectors and prostitutes did. Yet even when you saw that, you did not later change your minds and believe him.”
Both Jesus and John the Baptist will be put to death. Advent cannot go by without remembering that mystery. “I wonder as I wander at under the sky, why Jesus our Savior was born for to die, for poor, ornery people like you and like I?”
December 17th we turn to events that precede the birth of Jesus, starting first with the genealogy of Jesus which, according to Matthew, starts with Abraham and ends with Joseph, the husband of Mary. (Matthew 1, 1-17)
December 18th, there’s the announcement to Joseph, “Son of David,” of the conception and birth of the Child. He will name him Jesus, because “he will save his people from their sins.” (Matthew 1,19-25) In the first reading Jeremiah prophesies God’s people will return to their own land. (Jeremiah 23,5-9=8)
The Infancy Narrative from Luke will be read in the liturgy from December 19 on till Christmas.
DECEMBER 13 Mon Saint Lucy, Virgin Martyr Memorial
Nm 24:2-7, 15-17a/Mt 21:23-27
14 Tue Saint John of the Cross, Priest, Doctor of the Church Memorial
Zep 3:1-2, 9-13/Mt 21:28-32
15 Wed Advent Weekday Is 45:6b-8, 18, 21c-25/Lk 7:18b-23
16 Thu Advent Weekday Is 54:1-10/Lk 7:24-30
17 Fri Advent Weekday Gn 49:2, 8-10/Mt 1:1-17
18 Sat Advent Weekday Jer 23:5-8/Mt 1:18-25 )
19 SUN FOURTH SUNDAY OF ADVENT Mi 5:1-4a/Heb 10:5-10/Lk 1:39-45
For this week’s homily, please watch the video below.
The mystery of the Incarnation of Jesus Christ involves more than his birth from Mary and the incidents of his infancy, so beautifully described in the gospels, especially in the Gospel of Luke. He became flesh and dwelt among us.
He entered the company of the prophets. In our readings for the past few days of Advent Jesus describes his place with Isaiah, Elijah and John the Baptist. It was a relationship the people of his day saw. “Who do people say I am?” Jesus asked his disciples. “They replied, ‘Some say John the Baptist, others Elijah, still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.’” (Matthew 13;14) In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus describes his mission in the synagogue at Nazareth through words from the Prophet Isaiah.
Coming among us, the Son of God entered the company of the prophets and accepted a role among them. Like Isaiah and Elijah he spoke to the secular powers of his day; like John the Baptist he confronted the religious powers. He became a voice for the poor and the exiled; he cured illness of every kind.
Jesus never distanced himself the efforts of the prophets. Rather, he claimed to fulfill their promises and hopes. He saw himself as part of their company. He dwelt among them.
For that reason, we read the prophets and recognize the way their writings have shaped the gospels and our liturgy. It’s also the reason why we listen for prophetic voices in our world today, wherever we find them. They’re one with the voice of Christ.
The company of prophets praises you, O Lord.
“Like” appears often in today’s Advent readings at Mass. it’s a word that appears often in religious matters. Isaiah, the master poet, cannot speak without using the word. If you listen to God, our Teacher,
“ your prosperity would be like a river,
and your vindication like the waves of the sea;
Your descendants would be like the sand,
and those born of your stock like its grains.”
Prophets like Isaiah cannot speak of the mystery of God and his promises without saying what it may be like.
Psalm 1, the responsorial psalm, uses the same language:
The one who follows you, Lord, will have the light of life.
and be like a tree planted near running water,
That yields its fruit in due season, and whose leaves never fade.
Whatever he does, prospers.
This generation, Jesus says in the Gospel of Matthew, is ‘ like children who sit in marketplaces and call to one another, ‘We played the flute for you, but you did not dance, we sang a dirge but you did not mourn.’ They’re competing with one another, shouting at each other, scarcely seeing Jesus and John and the message they stand for.
“Like” is a word that approximates some reality. It’s the closest we can get to some truth.
We placed poinsettias and wreathes in our chapel yesterday and a vase of roses where the figures of the Child, Mary and Joseph will go. We search for words and ways to understand the mystery we celebrate, but in the end they are all “like”. That’s what we have till we see.
The mystery of the Immaculate Conception of Mary brings blessings to all creation as well as to humanity, St Anselm says:
“Blessed Lady, sky and stars, earth and rivers, day and night – everything that is subject to the power or use of human beings – rejoice that through you they are in some sense restored to their lost beauty and are endowed with inexpressible new grace.
All creatures were dead, as it were, useless for human beings or for the praise of God, who made them. The world, contrary to its true destiny, was corrupted and tainted by the acts of humans who served idols. Now all creation has been restored to life and rejoices that it is controlled and given splendor by humans who believe in God.
The universe rejoices with new and indefinable loveliness. Not only does it feel the unseen presence of God himself, its Creator, it sees him openly, working and making it holy. These great blessings spring from the blessed fruit of Mary’s womb–
Jesus Christ.
To Mary God gave his only-begotten Son, whom he loved as himself. Through Mary God made himself a Son, not different but the same, by nature Son of God and Son of Mary. The whole universe was created by God, and God was born of Mary. God created all things, and Mary gave birth to God. The God who made all things gave himself form through Mary, and thus he made his own creation. He who could create all things from nothing would not remake his ruined creation without Mary.
God, then, is the Father of the created world and Mary the mother of the re-created world. God is the Father by whom all things were given life, and Mary the mother through whom all things were given new life. For God begot the Son, through whom all things were made, and Mary gave birth to him as the Savior of the world. Without God’s Son, nothing could exist; without Mary’s Son, nothing could be redeemed.
Truly the Lord is with you, to whom the Lord granted that all nature should owe as much to you as to himself.”
You would do a little friend, or child, or relative of yours a favor if you would introduce him or her to the real Santa Claus, St. Nicholas, whose feastday is today. My good friend, Mauro DeTrizio, whose family comes from Bari, Italy, has had a lifelong devotion to St. Nicholas. He’s also a good videographer and his dream has been to produce a video on St. Nicholas, our Santa Claus.
So we teamed up to produce a couple of them as part of our campaign for saving Santa Claus. Santa’s more than a salesman; he’s a saint, and his gift for quiet giving is in the spirit of our coming season of Advent and Christmas. He mirrors God’s love shown in Jesus Christ.
Telling his story is one of the ways to save him from being captured by Macys and Walmart. Previously, we offered a version for little children. Now here’s another modest contribution for bigger children– like us:
The Victor's Place 