January 25, 2009
Posted in Homilies
at 9:00 am
The Feast of The Conversion of Saint Paul
January 25, 2009
As we continue to observe the year of St. Paul, it is fitting that today we celebrate the feast of his conversion, falling as it does on Sunday this year. Normally, the Sunday celebration would take precedence over the feast, but because of the Pauline year, we have the option of celebrating the feast this Sunday. Archbishop Prendergast has written a reflection on Paul’s conversion, which is available on the diocesan website. The Archbishop has a much deeper knowledge of scripture and St. Paul than I do, so I will take the liberty of borrowing a few lines from him later on. I do recommend that you read his entire message when you have a minute.
We hear a lot of St. Paul’s writings at Mass during the course of a year. The majority of the second readings on Sunday are from his letters. But how much do we really know about him? In his speech in Jerusalem, recounted in today’s first reading, he speaks of his background, including his religious education as a Pharisee. And we have a lot of information about Paul’s life, beginning with his childhood. It would be wonderful to have the time – and to have everyone’s interest – to go into great detail about St. Paul. Don’t worry, that isn’t going to happen this morning. But, there are a couple of things to keep in mind.
Paul was a devout Jew. He never stopped being a Jew, or considering himself to be a Jew. As the Archbishop’s message notes, “Paul’s encounter with Jesus…did not lead him to abandon his earlier worship and service of God, but to see it pointing in a new direction – toward Jesus, the crucified one who was now alive forever in His Church.” Paul understood that his belief in Christ was not a break from Judaism, but a new direction, and a continuation of worship to the God of Abraham.
Jesus said to the Apostles, “Go into all the world and proclaim the good news to the whole creation.” Vatican II reminds us that “The Church was founded to spread the Kingdom of Christ over all the earth, for the glory of God the Father, to make all men partakers in redemption and salvation”. What person more completely demonstrates the response to Jesus’ call, the reality of putting into action the mission of the Church, than St. Paul? He is often referred to as the Apostle to the Gentiles, as it was largely through his efforts that the Gospel was extended to those beyond Judaism, to all peoples. This task remains for each of us to continue, even to this day.
We may not have as dramatic an encounter with Jesus as Paul did on the road to Damascus. It is unlikely that the Lord will appear to us in blinding glory as we walk down the street. But, we do encounter God frequently – in prayer, in His Word, and especially in the Eucharist. Do our encounters with the Lord cause a conversion in us, or at least a reinforcement of our commitment to God? Paul was left without his sight on the road to Damascus. He needed to be led by the hand in order to get to his destination. This strong, self-reliant young man now had to depend on others. And, of course, he had to depend on God. In his first letter to the Corinthians, he says “But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me was not in vain. On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them, (here referring to the other Apostles) though it was not I but the grace of God which is with me.”
God’s grace is also with us, if we ask for it and recognize it. It can be very tempting to resolve to reform a certain part of our life. Many of us may have made New Year’s resolutions – how many of us are still keeping those resolutions a few weeks later? Did we try to keep them through the strength of our own will power? If we are strictly relying on ourselves, we may not be very successful. When it comes to our faith, to answering the call to holiness in our lives, we also will not succeed without the help that only God can give us. Will we allow ourselves to be led, like Paul, until we regain our sight and we can see what God wants for us? And then, to rely on His grace to accept His will?
Some people these days – and it has probably always been so – are afraid that accepting faith may require them to have some level of conversion, to make changes in their lives. And that may be true, depending on how their life is being led. In that case we need to ask what is more important – the thing, or activity, or belief we are so attached to, or our eternal salvation?
We should not be afraid to believe. We should not fear the changes that living our faith may require. And, while faith can never be forced, we can encourage it. We can proclaim the Gospel to our neighbours by the way we live our lives. The gift of our faith is treasure that we should protect and nurture, but we don’t protect it by locking it away. We strengthen our own faith when we live it throughout the day; we continue the process of our ongoing conversion when we regularly say to God “Thy will be done.”
The Archbishop refers to being able to look at Paul’s experience as either “call” or “conversion”. To paraphrase the conclusion of his message: Christian disciples who are called to let the Risen Life of Christ continue to transform their lives, in a sense rightly refer to this as ongoing “conversion.”
It is not so much a matter of whether we call it conversion, transformation, call, or something else – what is important is how we are allowing the love and grace of God to change us, as He did St. Paul. So, let us each in our own way follow this great saint’s example, and commit ourselves to conforming our lives and our hearts more completely to God’s plan for us. God took Saul, fearsome persecutor of the Church, and made him St. Paul. Just think of what he could do with us!
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January 18, 2009
Posted in Homilies
at 9:00 am
Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B, January 18th, 2009
Today I will not be speaking to you as pastor, because I will be wearing another hat given to me by the bishop, that of vocations director for the Archdiocese of Ottawa (put on hat). I have many hats here. One is my pastor’s hat (put on). This is another hat that the bishop gave me this past week, as temporary director of Ottawa’s Youth Challenge retreat. Unfortunately, I had to let go of this other hat this year (put on) symbolizing my work as a part-time missionary. After talking to my spiritual director and also mentioning to the bishop, I felt that I had to let go of plans for missionary work this year. I am sorry to disappoint the Honduras mission team, but I see the good that has come from our parish sponsoring so many children in Honduras.
Vocations. Today is actually the beginning of the week of prayer for Christian unity, but the readings the Church has chosen for this Sunday speak to us of the call of God: the call of Samuel in the first reading, and the call of Andrew, Peter and an unnamed disciple in the Gospel. This seems to be the appropriate time to speak about vocations and share with you some of the work I have been doing for the diocese on vocations.
Before I leap into promoting vocations, I would like to talk about Jesus, who has called us all, through our baptism and confirmation, to follow him, who calls some to holiness through marriage, and others to holiness through priesthood or religious life, and who calls each one of us to an ever-deepening relationship with Him through the Eucharist, reconciliation and personal prayer.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus asks the two disciples: “What are you looking for?” (Jn 1: ) “These are the first words of Jesus in this Gospel. Perhaps they are the first words of Jesus to each one of us” (Vanier, 38). “What are you looking for?”
From Andrew’s later words to his brother Peter, “We have found the Messiah,” we know what they were looking for: the Messiah; they were looking for God.
If we were to do a street survey of people coming and going from Pronto or Scotia Bank and ask them, “what are you looking for in life?” How many would say that they are looking for God? But there is something that all human beings can agree on, that all of us seek: happiness. Everyone is looking for happiness.
In another context, Peter tells Jesus, “everyone is looking for you” (Mk ). If only this were true today: everyone looking for Jesus, for happiness in Jesus! As Christians, we must be absolutely convinced that they are one and the same thing: to find Jesus is to find happiness. Not simply to believe that He is the Messiah, but to spend time with him and become his disciples, to dwell with Him and He with us.
The disciples also ask Jesus, “where are you staying?” The original word “menein” is used frequently in John’s Gospel and can also be translated, “dwell,” or “abide” as Jesus says later in the Gospel, that He and the Father will come to dwell in the soul of the believer (Jn 14:23). This is happiness: to dwell in God and He in us, this mutual in-dwelling of love that begins in the Eucharist and is fulfilled in heaven.
What are you looking for? I am looking for happiness, and I believe I will find it in Jesus. This conviction is essential for any vocation: the call to holiness for all the baptized, for the married, and for the priesthood and religious life.
I work on vocations for the diocese one day a week, on Tuesdays at the diocesan centre. In my office I meet with young men who are considering the call to priesthood (and some young women who are considering religious life),
Every year, there are 2 retreats at the Seminary; the first weekend of February, I will be away in Toronto, leading a group of young men for a “Come and See” retreat at St. Augustine’s Seminary. The third Friday of every month we meet for dinner, prayer, sharing, and usually a talk or presentation given by a priest.
We call these “Quo Vadis” meetings, from the Latin, “where are you going?” asking the question, “where are you going with your life? What are you looking for? What is your vocation?” Interestingly, this quote comes from a legend about the life of St. Peter, in which he was fleeing from persecution in Rome, and he met Jesus walking into the city and asked him, “quo vadis, Domine?” “Where are you going, Lord?” And Jesus answered, “I am going to Rome to be crucified.” So Peter turned back and he was crucified in Rome.
Peter’s vocation began with great happiness: “we have found the Messiah!” and it ended in heavenly joy, but in between came the Cross – literally. Many people today do not know the happiness found in Jesus, so they fear the Cross, and they also fear sacrifice and commitment, and run away from life-long vocations such as marriage or priesthood.
I am counting on Jesus to touch the hearts of young men with a desire to follow him and give of themselves, to be willing to sacrifice so that others might have life, to be inspired by noble and heroic ideals. Not to fear the Cross, but to follow courageously in the footsteps of Christ, Peter and the first disciples, and the first missionaries and martyrs of our own country.
On a vocations conference I attended in September, we were told by Bishop Burbage of Raleigh, NC that the three of the principle virtues required by a vocations director are: humility, humility, and humility. I’m glad he said that, because it helps me understand how God has been working in my life these past 4 months by teaching me about my weaknesses, weaknesses, and also my weaknesses. At least I can’t exalt myself for a single moment, because God allows me to experience, almost every day, my weakness and my tendency toward sin. So I could never imagine myself to be a sort of privileged general, sitting back in comfort, far removed from the battle, watching other people struggle and fight. No. I am with you in the mud, in the trenches, sharing your weaknesses and struggles (as St. Paul wrote to the Corinthians: “who is weak and I am not weak?” 1 Cor 11:29), but also sharing your hope in the love and power of God, who assures us through the apostle Paul that when we are weak in ourselves, we are strong in Him (2 Cor 12:10).
Please continue to pray for me and for vocations to the priesthood in Ottawa. Prayer is the key, especially before the Blessed Sacrament. And intercession by all God’s people: “Lord, send out labourers to the harvest!” and listening by those discerning their vocation. Listening to God, as the young boy Samuel did in the first reading, “speak Lord, for your servant is listening.” (By the way, this is the theme of our vocations poster for the Archdiocese of Ottawa. We have one on our bulletin board at the back, but if you would like one to put in your son’s room, I have lots of extra). No one will ever respond to a religious vocation if he or she is not listening to God. In today’s world, there is so much noise and distraction, so little silence and stillness.
All of us who are seeking happiness through a deeper relationship with Jesus need some silent time to listen to Him, but especially those who are discerning their vocation. I highly recommend that all those who can come for silent adoration of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament on Tuesdays from 6-7 or Fridays from 8-9. If you cannot, then close the door of your room and pray in secret and in silence to God. Turn off the music, shut out the world for a moment, and let Jesus who loves you speak to your heart.
Today’s Gospel focuses on the theme of the disciples seeking Jesus (What are you looking for?) But remember that Jesus is the one looking for us first: “It is not you who have chosen me, but I who have chosen you” (Jn 15:16).
What a great joy and happiness it is to be so loved by Jesus as to be specially chosen by him to be His intimate friend and disciple! To be chosen in baptism and confirmation, but even more so by being called to the priesthood or religious life. I would like every man and woman in the parish who is single to be open to the possibility that God is calling you to priesthood or religious life. Do not be afraid if God is calling you! It means He loves you more than the others! You should be happy to be so loved and called by Jesus!
Some of the young men and women with whom I meet who are considering the call also express a desire for marriage and children. This is a normal and natural desire, shared even by those called to priesthood or religious life, but they have a greater desire to give themselves more directly to Christ in a higher calling. My friend Fr. Anthony Hannon of Metcalfe, in his vocation testimony, tells how at one point he had to decide between proposing to his girlfriend or going to the Seminary. He chose the Seminary.
It was a bit different for me. My most serious girlfriend and I parted ways amicably a full four years before I entered the Seminary, because I could already sense Jesus drawing me, calling me to Himself, and I also realized that . . . how to put this . . . that there is no perfect woman (except for the Blessed Virgin Mary). There are thousands of beautiful, virtuous and holy woman, but no perfect woman. Just as there is no perfect man, except Jesus Christ. This is one reason why priesthood or religious life can be so attractive: to give yourself totally to the perfect woman, the perfect man, the God-man Jesus Christ, who alone can give us perfect, infinite, eternal love. This awareness also liberates young men and women entering marriage from any unrealistic expectations about their future spouse being the perfect man or woman.
We are all weak. We are all sinners. We all need Jesus to save us and lead us, as he lead St. Peter and the first disciples to true happiness, through the Cross, to the Resurrection. That’s all I wanted to say as vocations director; now I will put my pastor’s hat back on as we continue with Mass.
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January 11, 2009
Posted in Homilies
at 9:00 am
Baptism of the Lord, January 11th, 2009
In one week, thirty years have passed in the life of Jesus. Last week, we celebrated Epiphany, the wise men coming to pay homage to Christ the new-born King; this week, Jesus is an adult being baptized. Would it not have made more sense simply to continue with last week’s reading from Matthew, to continue the story of the infancy of Jesus, the Holy Family’s flight into Egypt and eventual return to Nazareth? Why has the Church skipped thirty years in the life of Jesus to the feast of the Baptism of the Lord , placing it at the end of the Christmas season, as we enter again into Ordinary Time?
Obviously because Christmas has something to do with Baptism. Have we ever thought about it before? What does baptism – our baptism – have to do with Christmas? (PAUSE). I mentioned on Christmas day that Jesus became a child to make us all children of God; Jesus was born into this world so that we could be born into the next world. And baptism is the sacrament through which we are born again as children of God, children of the kingdom, destined for eternal life.
The Church tells us more about this feast in the words of the Preface for the Baptism of the Lord, addressing God the Father: “You celebrated your new gift of baptism by signs and wonders at the Jordan. Your voice was heard from heaven . . . (and) your Spirit was seen as a dove.”
Signs and wonders at the Jordan reveal Jesus as the Son of God, but also point to the importance of baptism as a new gift from God, and as the sacrament of our spiritual birth. At his baptism, Jesus was revealed as the only Son of God; at our baptism, we actually become adopted sons and daughters of God. The words of the Father: “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased” (Mark 7: ) are also words that the Father speaks to us on the day of our baptism, indeed every day that we listen to him and follow his will: “You are my son, my daughter; with you I am well pleased.”
I don’t think any of us fully appreciate the gift of our baptism, and what it means to be children of God. For instance, God the Father wants to speak to us as his beloved children regularly, continually, as he spoke with his only-begotten Son Jesus Christ. Let us re-learn to read the Bible as God’s personal love-letter to us.
The first reading is from Isaiah 55; I would like to skip ahead to Isaiah 43 as an example of God speaking personally to you, his children by adoption, in the words of the prophet. Let us listen: “Thus says the Lord, who created you . . . and formed you . . . ‘fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name: you are mine . . . you are precious in my eyes . . . (and) I love you’” (Is 43:1-4). The Word of the Lord. Thanks be to God. And I really mean it this time: Yes, thanks be to God. These words will not return to you empty, Lord (Is 55:11), they will make a difference in my life. But how?
Just to spice up our life in Ordinary Time, maybe we could do something radical, like tape these words to the ceiling in the bedroom. So when the alarm clock goes off in the morning and you groan, you will see these words from God: “You are precious to me, and I love you.” Wow! A message from God! That’s a good way to start the day! Catherine Doherty wrote about a tradition at Madonna House to help us remember the dignity of our baptism that has made us children of God. I must confess that I have never witnessed this tradition, but she did write about it in her books. That is, to write on a mirror: “God’s image.” So you look in the mirror and see those words: “God’s image.” You could try it at home. Someone else goes into the bathroom and is surprised by it’s appearance: “Are these words meant to compliment me, or flatter you?”
We have to do something each day of Ordinary Time to remember our baptism. Words on the ceiling, words in the mirror. Maybe praying each day . . . a personal relationship with God . . . And what I say at every baptism I will share with you today: we must celebrate the day we became children of God, just as we celebrate the day of our birth. So I encourage you all to go home and find out the day of your baptism, and mark it in the calendar and have cake on that day as a celebration.
On of the dangers of Ordinary Time is that we get trapped in roles and routines, and we forget and neglect our dignity as well-beloved sons and daughters of God. I don’t know if you ever have that experience, some days, of feeling “trapped” in a role or a routine: “trapped” in your role as a husband, as a wife, as a father or mother, or trapped in a job. So many expectations. So many demands. Does anyone notice or appreciate the “real you,” or do you feel at times “trapped” in a role? (This can even happen to priests at times . . . in other dioceses of course . . . ). We must remember that it is a great gift to be someone’s husband, wife, parent or child – to be a priest! – and it is much more than a “role” – it is an essential part of our identity.
But we have an even deeper identity. Long before you were grandparents or parents, a husband or a wife, you were pre-destined by God to be his own son our daughter, for He alone knew you and loved you before you were born, before you were conceived. So if ever we might be feeling “trapped” in our roles in Ordinary Time, perhaps it is a sign that we have forgotten our baptism, and that we need to remember our deepest identity is as children of God, and live each day by the promises of our baptism.
There’s another dimension of our baptism: that of our “royal blood.”
Last week, there was an article in The Citizen on “The King of Canada.” Did anyone see it? (Hold it up). “Did royal blood flow through the veins of Samuel de Champlain, the ‘Founder of Canada’?” The article goes on to speculate that Samuel Champlain may have been an illegitimate son of King Henri IV. Royal blood in his veins. Imagine if someone did research on your family tree, and found that you were related to the nobility of some small European country. Would that change the way you see yourself? Would it enhance your dignity? I suppose it could lead to pride: you go to work the next day and your friends say, “Hey, Bob, how’s it goin?” “Excuse me, that’s ‘Sir Bob’ to you. I just found out yesterday that I have royal blood in my veins! So I won’t be shaking hands anymore with you . . . ‘peasants,’ but I will let you kiss my ring . . . “
Did you know that all of you who are baptized have royal blood in your veins? In baptism we become children of God, brothers and sisters of Christ. Remember last week at Epiphany, Christ was revealed to the nations as the new-born King of the Jews. Christ is a King. And He comes to us, as St. John explains in the second reading, through water and blood, by baptism and the Eucharist (1 John 5:6). We are baptized into His Body by water and the Spirit. We receive His Body and Blood in Holy Communion. His Blood flows through our veins. We have royal blood in our veins.
This royal dignity conferred on us by baptism gives us new insight and courage in facing the sufferings of life. The Catholic evangelist Stephen Ray asks: “What does a king do with his children? Everyone else can go out and do what they want, but what about the king’s children? Are they treated like everyone else? No, they go through rigorous training, rigorous, sometimes painful suffering, training. Why? Because they’re being trained for royalty. You aren’t just anybody – you are royalty! You’re part of the kingdom! You’re sons and daughters of the king! You have a Queen for a mother. When you go through suffering, do you whine and grumble, or do you say, ‘I’m being trained for royalty!’”
Yes, all the baptized have royal blood in our veins, and a Queen for a mother, a Queen who will help us in our day-to-day life in Ordinary Time, to live by the promises of our baptism. John Paul II taught, by his words and example, one of the best ways to renew and live the promises of our baptism – consecration to Mary, as explained by St. Louis de Montfort. If you would like to learn more about this, you can pick up a brochure at either entrance, and feel free to ask me about it at any time.
The feast of the Baptism of the Lord ends the Christmas season and marks the beginning of Ordinary Time. But all the graces we have received from the Christmas mystery are meant to “launch” us into Ordinary Time. After His Baptism, (and temptation in the wilderness) Jesus returned to Galilee “in the power of the Spirit” (Lk 4:14). We can also return to our normal lives in Ordinary Time in the power of the Spirit.
We don’t have to brag to our friends or co-workers about having royal blood, but our appreciation of our baptism will make us more aware of our deepest identity and dignity as children of God whom He loves and to whom He speaks regularly, continually. If only we are listening, then we too, will hear the Father speak to us, re-assuring us every day that we strive to do His will, “you are my son, my daughter, my beloved. With you I am well-pleased.”
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January 4, 2009
Posted in Homilies
at 9:00 am
January 4th, 2009
“Star of wonder, star of night, star of royal beauty bright, westward leading, still proceeding, guide us to that perfect light,” as we sing in the Epiphany hymn “We Three Kings.”
A real star guided the wise men to the child who was born as King of the Jews. “The star of Bethlehem was a bright reality in the heavens, not just a bright idea in the evangelist’s mind” (Saward, 351). I recall what Pope Benedict wrote in his book Jesus of Nazareth: “I trust the Gospels” (xxi). The Scriptural writers are inspired by God. We can trust that St. Matthew is not lying to us or making up a nice story for children. Why can’t a new star appear in the sky? At Fatima in 1917, 70 000 people witnessed a miracle with our own star, the sun, as it appeared to dance in the sky and give off many shades of colour. If God can produce a solar miracle as a sign that Mary had appeared at Fatima, why can’t he produce another solar miracle as a sign that Jesus was born in Bethlehem?
The wise men could have realistically associated the appearance of the star with the birth of the Messiah in Judea because “the Messianic hopes of the Jewish people were well known in the Gentile world” (Saward 352), for example, the prophecy of Balaam in Numbers: “A star shall rise out of Jacob” (24:17), in reference to the Messiah. The wise men saw the star and concluded that it must be the fulfillment of the prophecy.
The wise men may be considered early scientist or astronomers, but I also like to think of them as men with childlike hearts filled with wonder and awe, a reminder that one can be both a scientist and a believer; a Christian can be both a realist and a romantic, with the mind of an adult but the heart of a child.
The Christmas season is supposed to be a time of wonder and awe. This is one of the gifts of the Holy Spirit that we all received at Confirmation — “wonder and awe” in God’s presence (it used to be called “fear of the Lord,” but now we call it “wonder and awe”). This is a permanent gift of the Holy Spirit that is not meant to disappear with childhood, but to endure and mature into adulthood. We all know that our experience of the Christmas mystery changes as we mature. Adults don’t have the same excitement as children do in opening gifts on Christmas morning. But that doesn’t mean that realism and rationalism are supposed to empty our lives of all romance, excitement, wonder and awe!
With what eyes do we look at the star of Bethlehem that leads us to Christ,
or stars in the sky and the stars in our lives? Think of two young people in love, gazing up at the stars on a warm summer night. One of them is touched by the Spirit of wonder and awe, and sighs, “isn’t it beautiful?” But a cold rationalist might spoil the moment and say, “well, it’s only hydrogen burning. That’s all a star is, you know.” (It’s only a child in a manger, it’s only bread at Mass, etc…)
I’m slowly – very slowly – reading A Secular Age by the Canadian Catholic philosopher Charles Taylor. He wrote 851 pages to try to answer this question “Why was it virtually impossible not to believe in God in say, 1500 in our Western society, while in 2000 many of us find this not only easy, but even inescapable?” (25) He goes on to explain that in 1500, people lived in an “enchanted” world of spirits, angels and demons in which faith in an unseen God was almost automatic, but now we live in a more dis-enchanted, secular and scientific world, in which faith can seem totally unnecessary.
We would never want to go backwards, to some idealized Christian past in the Middle Ages, but my question is, (and I don’t have any easy answers; I think we should have a discussion about this): how can we re-enchant our world, or at least our lives? How can we recover a sense of wonder and awe in God’s presence?
First of all we can recognize that even the most secularized life of the most unbelieving person is still touched by moments of mystery, of wonder and awe. For example, has anyone hear ever had an “epiphany”? This is after all the feast of the “epiphany” which literally means “manifestation” and refers to Christ being manifested or revealed to all nations, represented by the wise men. But even an unbeliever can have an “epiphany” defined as“an intuitive grasp of reality through something usually simple and striking.” Have you ever had a sense of deja-vu? (I once heard the comedian George Carlin ask people if they have ever had a sense of “vuja-de”: that “none of this has ever happened before . . .”)
An epiphany, a sense of deja-vu: these are moments of mystery, of wonder and awe that occasionally visit us. And every human being at times has some feeling of nostalgia, romance or longing. Music often evokes these feelings in us, doesn’t it? I was chatting with a couple the other day about the songs played at their wedding. Doesn’t every married couple remember the song which they danced to on their wedding day? How could such a song not possibly evoke feelings of nostalgia, romance, longing?
I think it is good that God gives us these feelings from time to time, to remind us we are human beings, we are alive! But we must remember that these feelings are not ends in themselves; they are like stars leading us to something else, someone else . . . the nostalgia of the human race for Paradise, and our longing for heaven. We have to be careful not to idolize stars or people; they are signs from God and leading us to God, to the perfect light, Jesus Christ. We should only kneel down and pay him homage – nothing and no one else.
.How can we re-enchant our world, or at least our lives, and recover a sense of wonder and awe in God’s presence? In today’s Gospel, we read that the wise men “saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage” (Mt 2:11). There’s part of the answer:“the child with Mary his mother.” The child born in Bethlehem, which means “house of bread.” The child who would grow up to preach, “I am the bread of life come down from heaven” (Jn ). The child lying in the manger – a feeding trough for livestock. A prophecy that he has come to be our food of everlasting life.
The wise men approached the child wrapped in swaddling clothes, held in His Mother’s arms, with a sense of wonder and awe before a mystery. A model for us as we approach the mystery of Jesus our bread of life in the Eucharist. We must beware of a cold rationalism that is hostile to mystery and romance, of hard facts that try to delete all childlike wonder and awe from our human experience.
The wise men did not roughly strip the child of his swaddling clothes and declare: “behold, it’s only a child!” But a secular mindset might do just that: analyze the host under a microscope and declare that no God is present. It’s only bread, it’s only a child, it’s only hydrogen burning! (No romance or mystery permitted in my life . . . )
We can start to recover a sense of wonder and awe through the child (Jesus in the Eucharist) and his Mother. Mary, conceived without sin and assumed into heaven, is, in her very person, longing fulfilled, Paradise regained, the Church in glory, Heaven attained, the hope, goal and model for every human being.
The wise men saw the child with Mary his mother. They did not see him sitting alone on a throne. They saw him with Mary his mother. Then they knelt down and did him homage. Surely, as they worshiped Christ, they also honoured the one who had borne Him, who was holding Him. And we should do the same.
Mary is much more than a star. She has been called “stella maris” – star of the sea, the star that leads us to home to the safe haven of heaven. But she is more than a star. She is the woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars (Rev 12:1). The light she reflects continues to shine on earth. In our devotion to her as the Mother of God and our Mother, she will obtain for us moments of illumination, of epiphany, of romance and mystery, wonder and awe in the presence of God. Yes, through devotion to Jesus in the Eucharist, and devotion to Mary, we can begin to re-enchant our world and our lives.
On this Epiphany, when we think of the gifts of the Magi, we also receive spiritual gifts from God. We have a tradition now in our parish, now in its 3rd or 4th year, of handing out a spiritual “gift of the Magi” on a card which you can pick up after communion. I will ask the ushers to stand with the baskets beside the person giving communion from the cup. And remember the theology behind these gifts: nothing is outside the Providence of God. God knows where you are going to put your hand in the basket and which gift will come out. It is one of many gifts God wants to give you for 2009.
In addition, I pray that God will re-kindle in each one of us the gift we have already received in Confirmation, a gift evoked by the “star of wonder, star of night,” we sing about on Epiphany, a grace received through Mary, from Christ truly present in the Eucharist: the gift of wonder and awe in God’s presence – not just in Church, but also in our daily lives, and in the person next to you in the pew, who kneels with you to do homage to Christ and to receive with you the same Lord of heaven and earth.
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