The Advent grace is to trust and hope that God’s love is stronger than our deepest fears and God’s love for us will never fail.

 

 

First Sunday of Advent  C  2021

 

We affirm in the lighting of the Advent wreath that we are an Advent people.  We are given the gift of time – four weeks – to prepare for the coming of Christ into our lives.  The Advent gift we seek to use wisely is the gift of time.  

For Advent isn’t about commercialism.  Advent isn’t about busyness.  I confess that we are reluctant to schedule parish events in December.  People are too busy.  There is too much to be done in preparation for Christmas.

May we value the gift of time and of silence in this Advent season.

In truth, Advent is about spirituality.  It is about being in touch with our spiritual center.  God is with us.  “O Come, O Come Emmanuel.”  The Advent season invites us to reset our spiritual calendar, to readjust the choices in our lives to be sure they are consistent with the priorities of Christ.  We seek to move beyond the darkness of fear, anxiety, and sin and to live in the light of Christ.

May the Advent wrath be a symbol of hope as we await for the light of Christ to overcome the darkness of our world.

 

In today’s Scriptures, the prophet Jeremiah proclaims to a discouraged people that “the days are coming, says the Lord, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel.”  The prophet Jeremiah is a prophet of hope and mercy that God’s promise will be fulfilled.

What discouragement in your life are you in touch with  --  what person or situation causes you to be restless or sleepless at night – what now is separating you from the love of God or separating you from being connected to an important person in your life – what is causing to think there is too much on your plate just now, these all are Advent moments in which we await the light of Christ to overcome the darkness of our lives.   The Advent prophet Jeremiah assures us that God’s love will not fail, and God’s love will be our final answer.

 

 

 

 

The Advent message of hope may be more difficult to see in today’s Gospel for it contains a stern warning to us.  Jesus says: “There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on earth nations will be in disarray, perplexed by the roaring of the sea and the waves.  People will die of fright.  Additionally, beware that your hearts do not become drowsy from carousing and drunkenness and do not be overwhelmed by the anxieties of daily life.”

But the core message of Advent remains:  watch and wait for God, not with a sense of fear, but rather with joyful hope.  Sometimes we Christians tend to think that Jesus came to sing us lullabies:  that when things are comfortable, the Lord is with us, and when they get turbulent, we’ve lost the Lord -- like the disciples on the stormy sea.  Today’s Gospel tells us otherwise.  Yes, the sea of our heart sometimes is turbulent, fearful and anxious.  Even in these times, God is with us in the present moment and in every day of our future.  We are and will always be the recipients of the merciful love of Jesus.

The Advent season is a season of waiting.  In the story of our lives, the season of Advent may be considerably longer that four weeks.  As we deal with illness, as we grieve over the loss of a loved one, as we deal with the demons and addictions of our life, as we seek for an inner peace in dealing with a hurt that seems to paralyze us, Advent may seem like an eternity for us. 

Yet, the Advent grace is to trust and hope that God’s love is stronger than our deepest fears and God’s love for us will never fail.

When a person is aware the end of his or her life is near, this can be terrifying or it can be a gift -- terrifying in the sense of bringing to an end the life the person has known and treasured or it can be a gift when in faith a person is ready to go home to God and experience the fullness of life.

Can the same be said in any of life’s challenges:  illness, breakdown in our family life, dealing with a demon or sinfulness in our life.  All of life can be terrifying or all of life can be a gift.  Are we able to trust that our God is with us and the experience of the cross in life can be the very source of our salvation?

 

 

To wait for the Lord who comes means to wait and watch so that the Word of Love enters inside us and focuses every day of our lives.   Advent calls us not only to welcome the coming of Christ, but to incarnate it in our lives.  We are to be the light that illumines the world.  What does it mean for us to incarnate the love of Christ into our lives and how are we to be the light that illumines the world?

We are the salt of the earth and the light of the world.  If we know Jesus in our hearts, we will readily witness to the Lord’s mercy in the lives of others.

We are missioned to share the light of Christ that is within us and in so doing we will bring joy and hope into the lives of those around us.  The Advent-Christmas miracle is that Christ chooses to be born again in 2021 in our own hearts and we are to give birth to the presence and the light into our family, our neighborhood and into our world.

In times of crisis, we come to understand the deep meaning of our faith that the Lord does not abandon us but rather gives us the grace to know and experience His love for us.

 

 

Thirty Third Sunday in OT  B  2021

Autumn now seems to be giving a hint of the winter to come. Many leaves have fallen and others are continuing to fall.  There seems to be more cold darkness as the days grow shorter. 

We experience the mystery of the change of seasons.  In the Gospel, Jesus invites to reflect on the change of seasons in our lives.  What are your moments of winter?  What are the springtime moments of your life?  When do you enjoy the sunshine of summer in the story of your life?

The Gospel calls us to learn a lesson from the fig tree.  Even in the midst of the deep winter of our lives, the twigs on the fig tree will again become supple  in the springtime.  In the big picture, before this generation has passed away, new and wonderful things will have taken place.

Lord, prayer is trusting totally in your love, knowing with unshakeable confidence that heaven and earth will certainly pass away, but your love for us will not pass away.

Even before the ultimate end times, all of us at one time or another experience our life being shattered;

                --we lost our job

--our family life is hurting;

                --we fell into serious sin;

                --we learned we were seriously ill;

                --we lost someone dear to us.

Our world fell apart—the sun was darkened; the moon lost its brightness.

But you did not abandon us, Lord God.   In the midst of turmoil, we received a great grace.  We understood for the first time the meaning of our faith.  We discovered inner resources we didn’t know we had; friends rallied around us.

Again Jesus calls us to learn from the fig tree.  The fig tree seems to lose all signs of life in the dead of winter, and yet in the cycle of nature, spring and summer will bring new life and hope to the vibrancy of the fig tree. 

The meaning of faith in our lives is the capacity to trust that the Lord does not abandon us in the turmoil of lives.  Our future is full of hope despite all the struggles of our lives when we know that the Lord is with us and we are a people who believe in the triumph of the resurrection.  We believe in the Lord’s promise to us that our future is full of hope.

The liturgy calls us to consider the end times as we approach the end of the liturgical year.  The first reading from Daniel and the Gospel from Mark uses very apocalyptic language designed to be sensational.  “The sun will be darkened.  The stars will be falling from heaven and the power in the heavens will be shaken.”

They speak of the breakdown of the stable parts of our surroundings.  Yet, apocalyptic language is a message of hope.  Why?  Because Jesus has triumphed over sin and evil.  The ultimate victory belongs to

 

Jesus.  Even though it seems like our world is falling apart, for those who trust in Jesus, the message is always one of hopefulness.

Chapter 13 in Mark’s Gospel begins with Jesus making his way out of the temple with his disciples.  The disciples marvel at the greatness of the stones and buildings.  But Jesus’ response begins a deeper discussion about what is important and what they will need to look for in the coming times.

This chapter in Mark’s Gospel contains strong and alarming images.  “Nation will rise against nation and kingdom against kingdom.”  There will be earthquakes from place to place and there will be famines. The primary reason for apocalyptic literature, such as this reading from Mark, is to offer hope to those who feel there is no hope in sight.  This literature arises from a community that is facing deadly force and serious threats.  Yet even if the situation seems impossible, God will prevail.

As we approach the end of the liturgical year, the readings call our attention to the last things – the end of the world and the end of our own lives.  How do we approach and prepare for our going home to the Lord?

Jesus makes it very clear that we do not know when the end will come; of that day or that hour no one knows. 

 The Gospel invites us to do the right thing no matter what.  The Gospel gives the motivation to trust in Jesus.  Faith alone gives us the perspective to see that our current troubles are not “the end of the world.”  By trusting in God, we can successfully navigate the troubled waters of any earthly storm.  The faith perspective we seek is not that having faith in God is an insurance policy that guarantees that our lives will be devoid of troubles, but that having faith in God is the only thing that will get you through the troubles that come in every life.

I guess there are many ways for us to prepare for our ultimate encounter with the Lord.  The Gospel message is that God’s promise of faithfulness is firm.  We read in our newspapers daily about places that seem devoid of hope.  We see faces of bewildered children caught in circumstances over which they have no control.  We all know that every death on any side of the conflict of war brings loss to someone’s family, someone’s parent, or someone’s child.

What are to do?  As a people of faith, today’s psalm response:  “You will show me the path of life, you, my hope and my shelter,” reminds us that we can be certain that God is found in darkness.  God is near, walking beside us, calling us to live lives of justice and witness so that the Gospel may be carried to all the places where we go.

May this Eucharist offer us the opportunity to strengthen our faith and nourish our life in Christ. 

May God give you the virtue of hope in all the challenges in your life.

 

The way through loss, the way through death...is love.

 

Thirty Second Sunday in OT B 2021

 

In the first Scripture reading from the book of Kings, the prophet Elijah was asking the poor widow of Zarephath first for a cup of water and then for a bit of bread.

When Elijah who was a stranger asked her for something to eat, she looked him in the face – and did not say no.

Would we have the compassion of the widow of Zarephath who was worried not just about herself but about her son a well.  She gave to the stranger the food she had saved for her son.

There is such an important lesson here.

To give from our livelihood is not only an act of generosity; it is also an act of trust in God.  We can give from our need only if we trust that God will provide for us.  Jesus himself demonstrates the ultimate act of generosity and trust in God as he gives his life for us on the cross.

And as the Scripture tells us, she was rewarded for that trust in God: “her jar of flour did not run dry.”

But praying over the readings today from the book of Kings and Mark’s Gospel, I was struck by something else.

The readings are about giving, yes, and giving generously.

They are also about something unexpected.  They are about loss, and death.  The two women in these readings are widows.  Once, they loved someone, and depended upon him.  But death changed everything. 

Their life has changed.  A widow’s life can be very difficult.  They are grieving.  Financially they are suffering significant hardships. 

And yet.

The widows we meet today at instead of hoarding their assets for themselves and holding on to whatever they could.  They surrendered.  They gave of themselves, however they could, whatever they could.  A little cup of flour, a couple of small coins.  They held nothing back.

And they were blessed.

There is a lesson we all need to hear.  We may suffer losses that rob us of those we love.  We may grieve, and we may mourn, and we may ask ourselves “Why?”

But the way through loss, the way through death… is love.  Opening our hearts.  Giving ourselves.  Holding nothing back. 

The Scriptures give us a powerful message about grieving.  “Blessed are they who mourn; for they will be comforted.”  Jesus and his mother Mary have taught us how to grieve.  Yes, we are to be in touch with the loss we experience, the loved one we miss so deeply.  We certainly are not to sweep our feelings under the carpet and pretend to be brave. 

As did the widows in the scriptures today, the great lesson in grieving is to hold nothing back, to continue to serve, and most importantly, continue to trust in God.  “And the jar of flour will not run dry.”

Pope Francis has often told us that the poor have much to teach us.  Today’s scriptures are beautiful examples.  These widows had no one to speak on behalf of their needs.  It would be easy to take advantage of them.  Yet, what they teach is about faith.  When we trust in God, our lives are very much blessed.  These widows know a truth about the spiritual life that too often escapes us.

These widows through the loss and death of their husbands came to the profound realization of the faith journey.  The poverty of the poor opens their hearts to turn to trust in God as the source of all blessings.  As a result, they can give to the stranger their lasts cup of flour or the last penny to their name.  God will not abandon them.

For ourselves, as we pray over the scriptures, are their parallels in our lives with the poor widows of the Scriptures?  Please God we have a ton of money.  Your response to that: “Wait a minute, Father, money doesn’t grow on trees with our family.  We need to be very frugal with our resources.”  I really, really understand that, but it is also true we do not experience the poverty and hunger that so many hungry people experience around the world.  Comparatively speaking, we are very blessed.

For these widows, their giving was linked to their faith, their trust in God.

Quite honestly, anybody can give from their plenty, anybody can give from their resources, but it takes a lot of faith to give everything you have in this wonderful gesture as these unnamed widows in the Scriptures did.

What Jesus really saying is this: the value of the gift is in the heart, and when the heart gives, no matter what the gift is, how great or how small, if the heart gives it, then it is blessed in God’s eyes.

But what God is saying is, when you give as did the widows in today’s Scriptures, you must give yourself, you must give your heart, because it is the sacrifice in your heart that you give, and that is where God is to be found, and that is where God’s generosity is to be found.

What the disciples learned at the breaking of the bread, what they learned when they fed five thousand people with just a few loaves of bread, it’s only when you begin giving that there’s enough.

But as long as you are taking and hoarding it, there will always be the attitude, “Well, not quite enough. Maybe a little bit more…”

What God says is, “When you let go of everything, then you are ready to give,” because you’ll be giving the love, the faith that God has in you, to your brothers and sisters.

We know that this is the gift that Jesus gives to his Father and saves the world.

And that’s the message that the widow in today’s Gospel  teaches us as she puts her two little pennies into the treasury and says, “Take me, Lord, for I give you myself.”

 

May God bless you with the gift of generosity that comes from your trust in God who will bless you so that “your jar of flour will not run dry.”