Christ lives in the Eucharistic Prayer.
He listens carefully.
The Father listens too.
We listen with Them.
The Holy Spirit speaks.
He speaks a great silence.
He listens to the listeners.
We collectively hear.
God.
Three Persons.
His Entire People.
All Creation.
The Sound of One Breathing.
The Sound of Life.
Communion.
—
Amen.
(Jan/4/18)
Can’t keep it neat
Bunched-up cloth
Shifting sand
An avalanche of gifts
Those toward the outside move the most
The trough is fixed in place
“The world turns, the Cross stands still” *
Manger, manger, what happened to you?
Sprouted roots
Began life as a tree
…..A table
……….A sawhorse
……………A wagon wheel
Dusty bumpy road
Excitement of a coming feast
Not quite yet
To and fro
Which place is home?
Bethlehem, Nazareth, Jerusalem
The land of Cana
A wedding toast
Now a wooden throne
Plenty of wine to go around
“The world turns, the Cross stands still” *
Manger, manger, what happened to you?
Sprouted roots
Began life as a tree
* this line is a loose paraphrase of the Carthusian motto: “Stat Crux Dum Volvitur Orbis” (The Cross Stands Firm, While The World Turns)
What attracts?
What is it that truly attracts?
Is it:
“Innovation”? “Fresh ideas”? “Progressive thinking”? “Something new”?
I propose it’s none of the above.
I say it’s Love.
But I also say that Love made manifest looks a lot like this:
Wisdom. Sincerity. Peace.
Integrity. Honesty. Candor.
Decisiveness. Kindness. Strength.
Courage. Perseverance. Sacrifice.
None of which are old or new.
None of which are innovative or progressive.
None of which are tied to one generation or another.
We are in trouble. Our nation. Our world. Our time. And men are to blame. For we are weak and timid leaders.
We are cut off from mankind’s head—from Christ—Who is living, breathing Wisdom, Sincerity, Peace, Integrity, Honesty, Candor, Decisiveness, Kindness, Strength, Courage, Perseverance, Sacrifice.
Christ is true manhood made flesh.
We simply need more men. True men. Who act like men.
May we discover our true voice.
Human history…
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This particular Gospel (Jn 1: 29-34) makes me think about the wonder and power of an encounter with the Living God, especially when it is so tangible or physical:
John the Baptist saw Jesus coming toward him and said, “Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world. He is the one of whom I said, ‘A man is coming after me who ranks ahead of me because He existed before me.’ I did not know Him, but the reason why I came baptizing with water was that He might be made known to Israel.” John testified further, saying, “I saw the Spirit come down like a dove from the sky and remain upon Him. I did not know Him, but the One who sent me to baptize with water told me, ‘On whomever you see the Spirit come down and remain, He is the One who will baptize with the Holy Spirit.’ Now I have seen and testified that He is the Son of God.”
The Baptist must have said these last words in such a state of joy. He certainly appreciated and needed a moment like this, after waiting and working for so long. All of us do. We who feel compelled to tell the world that God is real, loving, and present, need always to return to the source of this Light in order to find the strength to persist in what often seems like a hopeless task.
This passage makes me think of the blessed power of the Eucharist. Here we come as close as possible to the experience of the Baptist when he “saw Jesus coming up to him.” Through the light of God’s given faith we “see” the Holy Spirit of God hovering over our Beloved Jesus, when the priest prays: “ May this same Holy Spirit graciously sanctify these offerings that they may become the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ…”
This incredible infusion of grace can go a long way in enabling us to live the Christian example to the world, even as we endure so many challenges and sorrows that come our way.
One important lesson that we could learn is to approach all of this with humility. We will not save the world. It is too big a task. Perhaps a little contribution to Love is all we can give. I look at all the divine examples in this Gospel. Our Omnipotent Lord is compared to a lamb, a Suffering Servant coming as a sheep to the shearers. The Giver of Life, the Spirit of God, manifests Himself, not as a powerful Roman eagle, but as a gentle dove, like the doves that were the most that the poor could afford as sacrifices for the temple. This is the God of the impoverished and the powerless. In the Eucharist the Powerful One comes to us as a humble, little, thin wafer, tp give us the strength to do the little things that together add up to the salvation of the world.
Just in case anyone reading this has not been to Mass in a while, come join us at the humble feast, even if the church is half-empty. Rather than just seeing, you might get the chance to behold. You just might be surprised to find our Savior, Jesus, walking right up to you! That’s what happened to me.
Orlando Hernandez
Sometimes in the middle of dinner I find myself smiling. I love to watch her prepare her plate; her little way of doing everything. Other times it’s when she’s cooking one of her little meals or carefully packing her bag for the day. Then there’s bedtime. I check the locks on the front and porch doors and then check the dials on the stove. I flick off the kitchen light and on my way up the stairs I shut the switch for the chandelier in the dining room turned work room. At the top of the stairs I see across the large box-shaped sparsely-furnished hallway into our bedroom. Usually my reading lamp is the only light. And there on the right side of the bed, her pillow seeming not to notice the weight of her delicate head, lies my little Laurie.
She smiles while she sleeps, and there’ve…
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Tender caresses
Tender thoughts
Harsh realities
Christ is real
Seek first the Kingdom of God
Sigh
Breathe
Smile
Pause
Just don’t move
Don’t feel guilt
Nor any shame
Be still
The world hates you
It lies to you
It tells you that you have to do something
Something!
Anything!
But you can’t just sit there
That’s what it tells you
But it’s a lie
Yes
Yes you can
You can just sit there
The Kingdom is at hand
Your right hand
And your left
Both your feet
Your head
Even your behind
Heaven is all around you
Please stop moving
Please
I love you
I love you, my dear child
You are so precious to me
Let me look at you
Let me surround you with my thoughts
With my arms
With my love
Let me love you
Please sit still
Please
My child
Let me look…
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by Howard Hain
Rembrandt, “The Angel Appearing to the Shepherds”, 1634
Now there were shepherds in that region living in the fields and keeping the night watch over their flock. The angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were struck with great fear.
—Luke 2:8-9
Perhaps the scariest thing to those of us who cling tightly to the things of the world is to accept the job that the Lord assigns us.
Oh, how so many of us are so quick to long for greater adventure!
Yet, when it comes to those humble, little shepherds to whom the angel of the Lord appeared, we are perhaps even quicker to long to be one of them—sitting quietly upon a gentle hillside, effortlessly tending to a passive flock, while the always-full moon provides a soft, ever-so-appropriate illumination from above.
But we are liars. For there’s nothing less romantic in each one of our daily lives, or more mundane. We simply have to be honest, or at least consistent. It all depends on how we look at it. If we see the shepherds in such a delicate light then we also need to see ourselves in the same. For before the angel appears, the shepherds were hardly posing for picturesque landscapes. Perhaps it is for this very reason—their realness, their authenticity, their holy simplicity—that the Lord chose them to be present when He revealed His glory.
It is exciting. We have a wonderful choice, then. Either our “boring” lives make us just the kind of people to whom God prefers to reveal Himself, or our lives are a lot more “exciting” than we ever imagined. Either way, what is vital to making such a decision is true sincerity and genuine gratitude. We need to thank God for who He has made us, for where He has placed us, and for what type of task He has assigned us.
A faithful, humble heart dreams and believes and sees great things among the most ordinary circumstances. Just look at the young virgin and the upright carpenter to whom the shepherds “went in haste” to find in a stable, adoring a child born within the company of the “lowest” of men.
If we spend our time dreaming of being someone else, living somewhere else, and doing something else, we miss the opportunity of being exactly who God intends us to be—and when that happens—we are always in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and most tragically, doing that which matters very little.
For to be the first on the scene, the first to “lay hold”, the first to adore the New Born King, is as good as it gets—even for those whose “normal existence” isn’t standing around all alone—day after day in the scorching sun or biting cold, while picking fleas from matted-down fleece or scaring off hungry wolves.
The angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people…”
So they went in haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the infant lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known the message that had been told them about this child. All who heard it were amazed by what had been told them by the shepherds.
Then the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, just as it had been told to them.”
—Luke, Chapter 2:10,16-18,20
I wonder. Did God ever catch a cold?
Did Mary look at Him while He slept, watching carefully His chest rise and fall?
Did Joseph pace around their small home, looking upward, his right hand touching his brow?
I wonder. Did they wince in sync when Jesus coughed from the bottom of His soul?
Was there a day, a single hour, from the moment Jesus was conceived that Joseph and Mary weren’t concerned?
Concerning all this there’s not much to wonder.
Jesus is human.
Of course He experienced “cold” in all its forms.
Of course Joseph and Mary felt they’d rather die than see their child in pain.
And Jesus is divine.
Of course He was homesick.
Of course He longed to return.
Between Mary’s womb and heaven the desert is awfully dry.
He climbed up high, seeking out mountain views.
He returned to the sea, seeking out salt air.
He stopped to hang out with the little ones, seeking out angels.
Jesus is just like you and me.
Only He allows Himself to be loved.
And that led Him to love to the utter extreme.
All flowed from and toward a family reunion.
His pain, His grief, His hope, His love were perfectly ordered.
Even when He coughed or sneezed or tossed and turned, Jesus did so while in the company of a promise.
And He’s extremely contagious.
Joseph and Mary became homesick too.
There’s only one place they could want to be.
With their only child.
Clinging to Him, to their God with all their might.
The Victor's Place 