Christ has come, yet his glory has not yet been revealed. “For we are the children of God, and what we shall become has not yet appeared. We know that, when he appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.” St. John says in his letter.
What shall we do till he comes? Study him as he appears to us now, as a servant. Follow him in his humanity, St. Augustine says. See him one with the leper, the poor, those cast aside. Until he comes:
“Until this comes to pass, until he gives us the sight of what will completely satisfy us, until we drink our fill of him, the fountain of life — while we wander about, apart from him but strong in faith, while we hunger and thirst for justice, longing with a desire too deep for words for the beautiful vision of God, let us fervently and devotedly celebrate the anniversary of his birth in the form of a servant.
We cannot yet contemplate the fact that he was begotten by the Father before the dawn, so let us hold on to the fact that he was born of the Virgin in the night. We do not yet understand how his name endures before the sun, so let us acknowledge his tabernacle placed in the sun.
Since we do not, as yet, gaze upon the Only Son inseparably united with His Father, let us remember the Bridegroom coming out of his bride-chamber. Since we are not yet ready for the banquet of our Father, let us acknowledge the manger of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
The gospel readings at Mass after the Feast of the Epiphany are connected to that great feast.
The Magi represent the nations, the Gentiles, seeking Jesus as their Savior. In our reading for Monday Jesus after his baptism by John goes into Galilee. Matthew’s gospel calls it “The Galilee of the Gentiles.” Jesus brings light “to a people who sit in darkness.” (Matthew 4,12-17,24-25) In Galilee Jesus fulfills the promise made to the Magi.
He repeats the words John used to define his ministry: “Repent, for the kingdom of God is at hand.” Yet, while John speaks to the Jewish world, (Saturday, John 3,22-3); Jesus calls a Gentile world as well to turn to God, for the kingdom of God at hand.
Humanly speaking, it wasn’t a good time for such a mission. It’s “after John was arrested,” a dangerous time. Galilee, when Jesus began his mission, was ruled by Herod Antipas, who imprisoned John and then beheaded him. (Matthew 4, 12-25)
It probably wasn’t a good time either for the Magi to come to Bethlehem, in the days of Herod the Great. But God’s time is not our time; God’s ways are not our ways. We can miss the opportunities of grace when we think of time in too human a way.
Accounts of the miracle of the loaves and the crossing of the Sea of Galilee from Mark’s gospel are read on Tuesday and Wednesday of this week. Commentators note that in Mark’s gospel the Sea of Galilee is a stormy path Jesus takes to reach the Gentile world of his day. The other side of the lake, the western side, was predominantly a Gentile area. They are given the same Bread he provides for the children of Israel.
It’s to “all of Galilee” that Jesus goes and consequently “his reputation traveled the length of Syria. They carried to him all those afflicted with various diseases and racked with pain: the possessed, the lunatics, the paralyzed. He cured them all.” (Matthew 4, 23-25)
Jesus brings good news to both Jew and Gentiles in Galilee, the”Galilee of the Gentiles.”
Visiting Elizabeth Seton’s New York? Start with a ride on the Staten Island Ferry. It’s free and offers a view of New York City that takes you back to the city’s beginning.
Early European explorers sailed into this harbor. In 1524 Giovanni Verranzano reached New York harbor and thought it was a lake. The Verranzano Bridge stands at the entrance to the harbor today. He thought the Hudson River might be a passage to the Pacific, but never went further than the harbor.
In 1609 Henry Hudson, exploring for the Dutch, sailed up the river that bears his name as far as Albany. The Dutch realized how valuable the place was and started a trading post on Manhattan Island. They called it New Amsterdam and traded with Indian tribes here and along the Hudson River.
Before the Europeans came, the harbor was a favorite place where the native tribes fished, hunted and traded.
The English had their eyes on the place too and in 1642 took it over. New Amsterdam became New York, and remained under English control till the American Revolution in 1776.
Millions of immigrants have come through New York harbor since then. The harbor was their gateway to the new world. The Statue of Liberty stands on the harbor’s western side along with Ellis Island, a major center for processing immigrants.
New York harbor became the place where early New York City traded with the rest of the world. Elizabeth Seton and her family were closely connected to the harbor. Her husband, William Seton, invested in the ships that made the city one of the richest ports in the world. But ships were a risky investment; they brought handsome profits yet could also bring bankruptcy if they didn’t come in. The Setons experienced both the riches and the risk.
I suppose you could call William Seton one of Wall Street’s first venture capitalists. In 1801 the Seton’s went bankrupt after the loss of a ship at sea and the family moved to the rented house on State Street, our first stop off the ferry.
Elizabeth Seton’s father, Doctor Richard Bayley, was the first Health Officer for the Port of New York (1796), caring for many of the first immigrants and travellers arriving here.
His job was to keep New York City safe from disease and keep travellers who were dangerous health threats isolated. So, quarantine stations were set up in the harbor for immigrants with yellow fever, cholera and small pox.
Within the harbor are some of the city’s early quarantine stations. Bedloe’s Island (1758-1796), Governor’s Island (1796-1799), Thomkinsville in Staten Island (1799-1858), just south of the St. George ferry station.
In the summer of 1801, Elizabeth was staying with her father at the Thomkinsville quarantine station when a boatload of sick Irish immigrants were brought in. She describes the dreadful conditions in a letter:
“I cannot sleep–the dying and the dead possess my mind. Babies perishing at the empty breast of the expiring mother…Father says such was never known before: twelve children must die for want of sustenance…parents deprived of it as they have lain for many days ill in a ship without food or air or changing…There are tents pitched over the yard of the convalescent house and a large one at the death house.” (Letter July 28, 1801)
That same year, Richard Bayley himself died from yellow fever contacted from the Irish immigrants off Thomkinsville. He’s buried in the family plot next to the Episcopal Church of St. Andrew in Richmond, Staten Island.
Seton Shrine, State Street, South Ferry
Arriving back in the city you can see the Seton house and a shrine near the ferry terminal at the end of Manhattan Island where Elizabeth Seton and her family lived for a short time. Stop in for a visit; many mementoes of her are found there. Most of Elizabeth Seton’s New York years were lived in this early section of the city.
From Mother Seton’s shrine and house on State Street walk up Broadway to Trinity Church and then St. Paul’s Chapel, the Anglican parish she belonged to until her conversion to Catholicism in 1805. She lived her early years as a happily married woman with five children on Wall Street and Stone Street, close by these colonial churches.
St. Paul’s Chapel
As a devout Anglican, Elizabeth devoted herself to her family and to the poor. In 1797 she and other public-spirited church women began an aid society for destitute women and their children. “The poor increase fast: immigrants from all quarters come to us. And when they come to us they must not be allowed to die.” (Description of the Society for the Relief of Poor Widows and Small Children.)
Looking eastward down Wall Street from Trinity Church on Broadway , you can see many of the institutions the fueled America’s economy: the docks and slave market (newly marked) on the East River, the New York Stock Exchange and the Federal building, a short walk from Broadway, and finally Trinity Church and King’s College on the western side of Manhattan. King’s College built on lands belonging to Trinity Church became Columbia University after the Revolutionary War, and later relocated in northern Manhattan.
St. Peter’s Catholic Church
Our final stop visiting Elizabeth Seton’s New York is St. Peter’s Catholic Church on Barclay Street, near to World Trade Center. Here she was received into the Catholic Church. Notice the beautiful painting of the crucifixion above the altar. Elizabeth Seton mentioned how moved she was as she prayed before that painting after becoming a Catholic.
In June 1808, she left New York City with her family for Baltimore, where she founded a school on Paca Street, the beginning of the Catholic parochial schools system in the United States. Shortly after, Mother Seton moved to Emmitsburg, Maryland, where other women gathered around her and took vows as the Sisters of Charity. Her religious followers continued her work through schools, orphanages and hospitals found throughout the United States.
Mother Seton died at the age of 46 in 1821. She was canonized on September 14,1975. There’s a good biography of Mother Seton written by Catherine O’Donnell, Elizabeth Seton: American Saint, Blackstone, 2018
Adoration of the Shepherds, Giorgone , National Gallery
We end the year reading from the 1st chapter of St. John’s Gospel: “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God.” The Word of God begins all things and in the Word all find their completion.
The responsorial psalm for today calls the heavens to sing and the earth to rejoice.
Let the heavens be glad and the earth rejoice! Let the heavens be glad and the earth rejoice; let the sea and what fills it resound; let the plains be joyful and all that is in them! Then shall all the trees of the forest exult before the LORD.
Creation today needs the blessing of the Word, doesn’t it?
St. Bridget of Sweden influenced 15th century artists, like the one above, with her vision of the Nativity. Instead of in the stable, Mary places her Child on the earth outside so that the earth –all creation– might receive his blessing along with Joseph and the shepherds.
The Word, who made all things, became flesh to bring blessings to all that came to be.
Listen to Maximus, the Confessor, speak of the marvelous adaptability of the Word made flesh:
“The Word of God, born once in the flesh (such is his kindness and his goodness), is always willing to be born spiritually in those who desire him. In them he is born as an infant as he fashions himself in them by means of their virtues. He reveals himself to the extent that he knows someone is capable of receiving him. He diminishes the revelation of his glory not out of selfishness but because he recognizes the capacity and resources of those who desire to see him. Yet, in the transcendence of mystery, he always remains invisible to all.
For this reason the apostle Paul, reflecting on the power of the mystery, said: Jesus Christ, yesterday and today: he remains the same for ever. For he understood the mystery as ever new, never growing old through our understanding of it.”
God’s love is an adaptable, respectful love. That’s the way God loves us, that’s the way he loves all creation; that’s the way we should love.
Two elderly Jews, Simeon and Anna, meet the Child, when Mary and Joseph take him to the temple, “to present him to the Lord.” Simeon joyfully takes the Child in his arms. “Now you can dismiss your servant in peace, Lord, because my eyes have seen your salvation.” No temple priests, no officials, no angels recognize the Child, according to Luke’s gospel, , just two old people. (Luke 2:36-40)
Anna, an 84 year temple regular and a widow after being married for only seven years doesn’t say anything when she sees the Child. In our picture above he stands behind Simeon gazing at the Child. “Coming forward at the very time,” Luke says, “she gave thanks to God and spoke about the child to all who were awaiting the salvation of Jerusalem.” She doesn’t keep word of him to herself. She speaks of him to all.
The Lord comes to the 84 year old woman, to Simeon, to Mary and Joseph, Elizabeth and Zechariah, the shepherds in the hills, the wise men from afar. He comes to all. John’s letter, which we read today at Mass, says that too. ( 1 John 2:11-17)
Anna gives thanks at the sight of the Child and goes out to speak about him to everyone she meets. “Let the heaven be glad and the earth rejoice. Go tell all the nations the Lord is King.” Our responsorial psalm says.
A Christmas sermon by St. Augustine reflecting on the mystery of Jesus Christ, human and divine:
The Word of God, maker of time, becoming flesh was born in time. Born today, he made all days. Ageless with the Father, born of a mother, he began counting his years. Man’s maker became man; the ruler of the stars sucked at a mother’s breasts, Bread hungered, the Fountain thirsted, the way was wearied by the journey, the truth was accused by false witnesses, the life slept in death, the judge of the living and the dead was judged by a human judge, justice was condemned by injustice, the righteous was beaten by whips, the cluster of grapes was crowned with thorns, the upholder of all hung from a tree, strength became weak, health was stricken with wounds, life died. He humbled himself that we might be raised up. He suffered evil that we might receive good, Son of God before all days, son of man these last days, from the mother he made, from the woman who would never be, unless he made her. (Augustine, Sermon 191, 1; PL 38, 1010)
The Feast of John the Apostle, like the feasts of Stephen and the Holy Innocents, immediately follows the birth of Jesus. The feasts help us understand the mystery of his Incarnation.
John’s Gospel is the earliest gospel read on the Christmas feast, answering the great question: Who is this Child? The Child is the Word of God. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.”
John was one of the first disciples whom Jesus called. He knew Jesus from his early years in Nazareth; he knew his family; he accompanied Jesus on his ministry in Galilee and on his journey to Jerusalem. John saw him transfigured in glory on the mountain. he sat beside him at the Last Supper; he went into the Garden of Gethsemane with him, then he stood beside his cross with Mary, his mother. Jesus gave Mary into his care.
The gospel reading for his feast reminds us that John was a key witness to the resurrection of Jesus. At the empty tomb he recognized Jesus risen from the dead. “‘It is the Lord,’ he said to Peter”. At the Lake of Galilee he again recognized the Risen Christ.. (John 21, 7) John, “the disciple whom Jesus loved” knew Jesus, human and divine.
The 1st Letter of John is our lectionary reading during the Christmas season. It tells us to know Jesus Christ through his humanity, just as the apostles did. The One we know in his humanity is also the Word of God, who is God.
“What was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we looked upon and touched with our hands concerns the Word of life —for the life was made visible; we have seen it and testify to it and proclaim to you the eternal life that was with the Father and was made visible to us—what we have seen and heard we proclaim now to you.” 1 John 1-4
The feast of John the Apostle is a feast for exploring the mystery of the Incarnation.
God, our Father, you have revealed the mysteries of your Word through John the apostle. By prayer and reflection may we come to understand the wisdom he taught. Grant this through our Lord Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, One God, forever and ever.
St. Luke’s account of the Annunciation to Mary, read today at Mass, follows the announcement of the birth of John to Zechariah in yesterday’s advent readings. Mary responds to the angel so differently than the priest Zechariah. (Luke 1, 5-25,)
In the temple where great mysteries are celebrated, the priest won’t believe he and his wife can conceive a child. They’re too old. He doubts.
In Nazareth, an unlikely place for a great revelation, the angel approaches Mary with a message far more difficult to grasp. “ The Holy Spirit will come upon you and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God.”
Mary believes and does not doubt and by God’s power conceives a Son who will be born in Bethlehem. “Behold, the handmaid of the Lord, be it done to me according to your word,”
This is a golden moment, the 13th century painting above by Simone Martini and Lippo Memmi indicates. Mary is at home in prayer when the angel comes. Prayer enables her to believe and accept what is revealed. That’s true for all of us: prayer helps us discern and say yes to what God reveals.
“How can this be. I do not know man?” Mary says to the angel. Our painting seems to capture that moment in our gospel passage, but Mary will go on to respond in faith, “Be it done to me according to your word.” Mary is a woman of faith; we learn from her.
Today we pray:
O Flower of Jesse’s stem, you have been raised as a sign for all peoples; kings stand silent in your presence; the nations bow down in worship before you. Come, let nothing keep you from coming to our aid.
“This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about,” Matthew’s gospel describes the birth of Jesus through the experience of Joseph, the husband of Mary. It’s summarized in the creed. “I believe in Jesus Christ, the only-begotten Son of God…who by the Holy Spirit was incarnate of the Virgin Mary.”
Is this true? Here’s Pope Benedict XVI:
“The answer is an unequivocal yes. Karl Barth pointed out that there are two moments in the story of Jesus when God intervenes directly in the material world: the virgin birth and the resurrection from the tomb, in which Jesus did not remain, nor see corruption.
“These two moments are a scandal to the modern spirit. God is “allowed” to act in ideas and thoughts, in the spiritual domain–but not in the material. That is shocking. He does not belong there. But that is precisely the point. God is God and he does not operate merely on the level of ideas. In that sense, what is at stake in both of these moments is God’s very godhead. The question that they raise is: does matter also belong to him?
“Naturally we may not ascribe to God anything nonsensical or irrational, or anything that contradicts his creation. But here we are not dealing with the irrational or contradictory, but precisely with God’s creative power, embracing the whole of being. In that sense, these two moments – the virgin birth and the real resurrection from the tomb–are the cornerstones of faith.
“If God does not have the power over matter then he is simply not God. But he does have this power, and through the conception and resurrection of Jesus Christ he has ushered in a new creation. So as the Creator he is also our Redeemer. Hence the conception and birth of Jesus Christ from the Virgin Mary is a fundamental element of our faith and a radiant sign of hope.”
(The Infancy Narratives: Jesus of Nazareth, Joseph Ratzinger, Pope Benedict XVI, pp 56-57 )
From December 17th until Christmas, we read from the infancy narratives of Matthew and Luke to prepare for the Christmas feast.
Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus Christ traces his ancestry as “the son of David and the son of Abraham.” Descended from Abraham Jesus fulfilled the promise God made to the patriarch: “in your descendants all nations would be blessed.” Matthew ends his genealogy with “Joseph, the husband of Mary. Of her was born Jesus who is called the Messiah. ” In our portrayal above Mary points to Joseph as the one who can explain it to us all.
Matthew’s genealogy offers a Messiah whom Jew and Gentile can claim for their Savior. His ancestors reach beyond Palestine; his roots are worldwide. He’s not just a Jewish Messiah in Matthew’s listing either. His bloodline includes women like Tamar, Ruth and Bathsheba– foreigners and even women with questionable backgrounds.
In his humanity, Jesus didn’t come from perfect ancestors or untainted Jewish royalty ; he’s rooted in all humanity. His bloodline includes saints and sinners; he comes from a line of sinners and some saints. He shares our human DNA.
Matthew obviously wants us to look at Jesus’ family tree and see it as our own. We’re at home there. The Tree of Jesse, based on Matthew’s genealogy was a favorite subject for medieval artists working on illuminated manuscripts or creating stained glass windows for churches. A great way to see the humanity of Jesus Christ.
Luke’s genealogy goes further and brings Jesus beyond Abraham to Adam. He becomes the new Adam. We are born from his side, we share his blood; he is the first born of many like us. So we pray:
“O God, Creator and Redeemer of human nature…your Only Begotten Son, having taken to himself our humanity, may you be pleased to grant us a share in his divinity.” (Collect)
O Wisdom of our God Most High, guiding creation with power and love: come to teach us the path of knowledge!
The Victor's Place 