Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Ten Steps!

I'm still behind in my reading, but I ran across a REALLY interesting article by John Dear, SJ, in which he publishes "Ten Steps to a Nation of True Justice and Peace" by Loyola law professor Bill Quigley.  I like it because it "flat-out says it" without pulling any punches.  For instance, #4 starts out:


"Four:  Leave the rest of the world alone. Cut U.S. military spending by 75 percent and bring all troops outside the U.S. home now."

Now, I admit that I've been saying for a long time, to a lot of people, that the size of our military spending is absurd and obscene.  But to give an amount, and to add that opening touch, "Leave the rest of the world alone," is probably further than I would have gone... not because I don't believe it but because I didn't think of it.  It has panache!

He talks about "radically reinventing democracy, defending the earth, expanding public spaces, redoing the prison system, and providing full employment."  He says clearly that corporations are NOT persons, and that property rights, privilege, and money-making are just not as important as human rights.

Not bad for a short essay.

Monday, February 13, 2012

Feast of St. Bridget -- Caregiver

I'm a little late in posting this -- I got sick shortly after giving this homily, and when you miss time at a parish, a lot of the work just piles up and waits for you. Thanks to a lot of help, I've gotten mostly caught up, and I'm mostly well. So... here is my homily from the weekend of February 4-5.

It really isn't about St. Bridget, but that was my "intro," because of her feast day the previous week. And most of our parishioners are really unaware of the story that our BEAUTIFUL stained glass tells, so I wanted to weave a little bit of that into the homily.

What I write about being a chaplain at the hospital (Seattle Children's Hospital) is absolutely true. I've searched my heart on this numerous times over the years, and so I'm sure I'm not just being romantic, dramatic, or anything other than simply straight out honest with you. I hope you find it worthwhile.

Fifth Sunday, Ordinary Time (B)

Good morning. It’s very good to be with you again. This past Wednesday – Feb. 1st -- we celebrated the feast day of our patroness, St. Bridget. There are a lot of things about our saint that have found expression in our parish life. The most obvious is her focus on charity. Bridget is sometimes known as the giveaway saint, and as a parish we’ve tried to follow in her footsteps by such works as our St. Vincent de Paul, Sacred Heart Shelter, Orion Center, our youth Mission trips to Jonestown, and our partnership with Namitembo. I hope that our community will always be known for its generosity to others, like the original Bridget was. Bridget was also known as a saint of Light – she’s always depicted with a symbol of light: tongues of fire over her head, or holding a candle, or sometimes holding a lantern. This symbol too has particular significance for our parish, because there is so much talent and ability here. These talents are not given to us for our own exclusive, individual use. Jesus said, “You are the light of the world!” There are few limits to the brilliance that can shine from us, when we offer our gifts for God’s uses.

But today I’d like to focus on a third charism of our saint, and that’s the gift of healing. Bridget was known for her pastoral and spiritual care of others, so much so that her cloak was said to have healing powers. That charism is represented in our stained glass, which shows Bridget in a flowing aquamarine cloak extending from her figure in the back, through each of the main doors, so that you actually enter through her healing cloak, continuing along the bottom of the glass in the chapel, on to front windows on both sides of our altar wrapping around our entire worship area, so that this whole church is like a refuge, a protected place, a healing place.

And our readings today are about healing. Our first reading is from Job, and boy, it’s a hard one to listen to! It’s full of Job’s moaning about life –it’s a drudgery, a misery, filled with restlessness, hopelessness, unhappiness. It makes you wonder why it would ever be chosen as one of our Sunday spiritual readings, except…that it does remind us about suffering! Probably most of us have had days of drudgery, or even misery. I know there are parishioners who are right now going through a time of suffering. I don’t have to mention any names -- you know some of them, because we’ve been praying for them for a long time. There are many more names than those, too, because there are parishioners who don’t want others to know about their afflictions.

We don’t hear the resolution of Job’s story today; but immediately after hearing about his miseries, we hear the words of today’s Responsorial Psalm: “Praise the Lord, who heals the brokenhearted.” After a reading filled with misery, a song of healing and praise! And shortly afterwards, in our gospel passage, we see Jesus, at the beginning of his public ministry, living out this healing, beginning first with Peter’s mother-in-law, and then, as the word spreads throughout the village, to all those who are sick, to everyone ill in body or in spirit.

I’ve been thinking a lot about healing during these past few weeks. It started with the death from leukemia of a longtime friend, Pat Sursely, who was one of the most respected laymen at the Chancery. He began his service within our Archdiocese around the same time I did – we had known one another for over 35 years. His death was not sudden, and so his family, co-workers, and friends had opportunities to say goodbye to him very beautifully. I’ve also been praying for another long-time friend, Jesuit Fr. Bill Bichsel, who is 83 years old and is fragile, not in good health, but who nonetheless was jailed in SeaTac recently for protesting the Trident nuclear submarine, based in Bangor. There are a lot of us who are with him in Spirit in this, and when despite his fragile health he began a fast to protest his treatment, there were a lot of us who joined his fast in our own ways. But beyond these friends of mine, I’ve just be sensitive to the need for healing lately. And I know there are others too, parishioners, who are also sick, some close to death, and their families and friends are caring for them very lovingly, but of course it’s difficult; it’s a time of sadness and grief.

It’s not for nothing that our patroness, St. Bridget, had the charism of healing. It is a reminder to us that the gift of healing is available to us, if we look for it, ask for it, nourish it. We all will be at some time in need of this grace, either for ourselves or for those we love. I’m not a doctor, as several of you are, but from my work as a chaplain I do know that healing ministry is only partly about physical healing. What I concentrate on is pastoral care, spiritual care. I don’t consider myself an expert; but since I know a little about it, I would like to offer four things for us to consider.

First, I know that before I am any good with others, I have to ask for help myself. You might think that after 29 years I’d be more confident, or I’d know just what to say or how to act. Let me tell you that is not the case at all. When I first started visiting families at Children’s Hospital, I could hardly walk into those rooms, even to introduce myself, because I was painfully aware that I had so little to say on my own account. Every time I went to the hospital I first had to spend time in the chapel, sometimes for an hour or more. Even today, 29 years later, when this hospital pager goes off, and I get into the car on my way to the hospital, I’m not listening to the radio. I’m praying: “God, help me. Help me. Help me to be there for this family. Help me to know what to say or do. I can’t do it without you.” I ask for help because I know there’s no way I could do this on my own.

Second, you have to listen. There’s always such a temptation to fill up silence, especially if someone’s hurting or asking for answers, but you have to listen first. You can’t be busy or preoccupied; you can’t be worried about an appointment that you have afterwards. And I’m not talking just about listening to the person or family that you’re with. I’m talking mostly about listening for the Holy Spirit. One thing I’m absolutely sure about, is that God is present with those who suffer, even if they’re hurting so much that they can’t feel it or know it. So I reach out, “God, where are you? Help me to hear you, to see you, to feel you.”

Third, you have to have the courage to give expression to that Spirit, to give flesh to that movement of God. I wish I could tell you what that means, but I just can’t, because it’s different every time. It may be something you say, a way you move, an attitude of reverence or respect, a loving touch, a quiet song or prayer. I hope this doesn’t sound presumptuous to you, but I know that God moves through me sometimes, and I’m not really in control when that happens. So I can’t tell you how it happens, only that it does. And if you ask for help, if you really listen, if you have the courage to give flesh to the Spirit, God really will move through you, too.

Finally, it’s also about giving thanks. My life has been touched and changed, again and again, by the people I meet, whom God loves so personally, so intimately. This is a very humbling experience, to be “along for the ride” when the Holy Spirit is moving. I’m sure Jesus felt that way in our gospel today – that’s why he had to go off by himself to pray, to be grateful. And notice too, Jesus didn’t stay in that town, to be treated as a celebrity. He knew that it wasn’t about him, but about building the Kingdom – and he had to move on.

So I invite all of us this morning to consider this gift that our saint and our scriptures lift up for us: the charism of healing. All of us can be instruments of healing. And all of us are in need of healing -- whether now or tomorrow – whether for ourselves, or for those we love, or for the person sitting in the pew near us.

Deacon Denny Duffell, Feb. 5, 2012



Tuesday, January 17, 2012

"Come and See"

I had been thinking about this homily for a week and a half. Of course I hadn't put anything down on paper -- I seldom can, ahead of time. But when I did, I was able to spend more time than usual with the individual words I would use, and how to say them -- inflection, pausing, etc.

The two paragraphs at the end are in brackets because they refer to two parish activities that I wanted to highlight at the end. The homily probably works OK without them.

Second Sunday of Ordinary Time (B)

Today I’d like to focus on two different spiritual movements, movements that go together as naturally as breathing in and breathing out. The first movement is very well characterized by today’s First Reading and the Gospel. The former passage tells us that young Samuel was being called – “Samuel, Samuel.” But Samuel “was not familiar with the Lord,” so he kept running to the old priest, Eli, “Here I am; you called me.” Finally, Eli figures it out and with the old priest’s instructions Samuel listens attentively to God’s voice… and after that, things are never the same in his life. In fact, they are never the same in the land of Israel.

The Gospel story takes place shortly after John’s baptism of Jesus, and when John points him out as the Holy One, “the Lamb of God,” Andrew and another of John’s disciples follow Jesus, and after a brief exchange about where Jesus lives, Jesus invites them to “Come and See.” And clearly, these words are more than invitation to physically see where Jesus lives; they are rather an invitation to know who Jesus is. And after that, just as in the first reading, things for Andrew are never the same again; nor for the apostles, nor for human history.

Come and See. Rabbi, where are you staying? Come and See. Do we want to understand who Jesus is? Come and See. Would we want to learn how to be more loving?…to forgive and heal others like Jesus did?… Would we like to be less worried or afraid…more grateful and trusting… Come and See. Know Jesus, study the scriptures, pray over them, worship and gather to share the Eucharist. Come and See.

DO BELIEVE that our God calls to us. I believe God’s calls to us all the time. There are times in our lives when we act like Samuel did at first, as if we were unfamiliar with the Lord. We may have a restlessness in our heart; it might keep us awake at night. We may have a yearning that we just don’t understand. We might feel that we’re…not in the right place. Those might be signs that God is speaking to us.

It’s difficult sometime because God’s Word to us is different from ordinary words. We often take the Voice of God to be something else, something that might be a little more familiar to us. Or we respond to what we hear by turning to the people we already know or the places we’re already accustomed to, or maybe we turn to something shiny, like a new toy or a new opportunity, and we say “Here I am, you called me.” But it was God who was really calling us – we just didn’t recognize the voice.

But instead, if we have become a bit familiar with the ways of God, or if we have a wise person in our life to whom we can turn for advice, we might instead say, “Speak Lord, your servant is listening.” And God WILL speak to us. God is not silent; God never abandons us, even if we feel lost and in the shadow of death. Our God is a God of Love and Consolation. And yet truly, what God has to say to us can cause the ears of everyone who hears it, to RING, so that things will never be the same.

I spoke when I began, of two movements. The first is to hear God’s voice, to come to know to heart of Jesus. But there is another movement. Once we have heard and have come to know… it takes us somewhere. God’s Word to us is a Holy, creative word, and that Word changes us – joyfully, gloriously, and sometimes even frighteningly or dangerously!

How can that be? What might those changes be? We might already have some inkling of that if we are speaking of our individual lives. If we ask God where to walk, God WILL show us the paths that we can walk together. If we offer our lives to God, God WILL help us determine our professions, opening some doors, closing others. If we open our hearts for God to show us love, God CAN help us find our spouse, and WILL help us raise a family. And if we’re sick or dying and we reach out for God, God WILL even carry us along our paths. Our God loves us all, individually and powerfully so.

But our God is also much larger than that, larger than any of us as individuals. Our God is not a personal, private God. God loves the whole human family. That’s why God sent Jesus to teach us and to show us how to live, and to announce the Reign of God. This Monday… is a special testament to that, because it is the special time of the year that we remember Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Dr. King, we sometimes forget, was a Baptist Minister, and the title “Doctor” refers to his advanced degrees in theology.

To me his most moving speech was not the famous one that he gave to hundreds of thousands in our nation’s Capitol. To me it was a sermon that he gave about the night he almost gave up. After a long day and night in one of many troubled situations he had faced during the civil rights struggle, with death threats to him and others, and late that night, in his own home, he received one final hateful call that was, in his words, “a nasty voice” -- someone who threatened his little daughter’s life, his wife’s life and his own. It was not the first time; but that night, as he sat alone at his kitchen table, his head in his hands, he felt there was nothing anyone could do to help him. The police? They were on the other side. The federal government was too far away. His father lived in another city. He felt lost, alone, and in trouble, felt like he couldn’t go on. But then, that night, he heard the voice of God, telling him…”Stand up, Martin. Stand up for Justice. Stand up for Righteousness.” And he ended that sermon by proclaiming “There IS a Balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole; there IS a balm in Gilead, to heal the sin-sick soul.” He went on from that night, and eventually died in the service of His God.

We don’t choose most of our life’s troubles; most of us naturally try to avoid them. But being part of the reign of God means announcing that reign to the world, and promoting ways of life that confound and sometimes confront earthly powers. Those powers are strong, persistent, interlocking, and hold much of the world in their grip. And in today’s world we see many people and places that cry out for God’s justice. And so you know, you know that God’s voice must also be very active these days; and as a people, as a Church, we should find ourselves saying “Speak Lord, your servants are listening.”

[There are many ways we might respond to that voice, and I would just like to call your attention to two of them this morning. On Tuesday morning, the annual March for Life will take place, down in Olympia. This is an annual event, held near the anniversary of Roe VS Wade. There are already several of us going. If you would like to go, and need directions or perhaps a ride, please contact one of us.

The 2nd is that next Monday, January 23rd, we will begin a parish program called “Living Solidarity – the Federal Government, the Budget, and the Common Good.” This program is particularly timely, because budget cuts everywhere are impacting the poor most of all. We already have 18-20 people who have already signed up, and if you are interested, this is a final opportunity, because we need to order books. There is a signup table in the main entryway.]

May you enjoy your holiday on Monday. But be sure to spend part of this time in prayer. Just say to God, Speak Lord…your servant is listening.

Deacon Denny Duffell, 1/15/12

Wednesday, January 04, 2012

World Peace Day homily

I usually try to post my homilies, and try to write a blog or two between them. I also post my homilies on the parish website, but here on the blog I try to comment on the homily -- which gives it at least a little more context.

For January 1st, I knew already that it was not just the feast day of Mary, Mother of God, but also World Peace Day, and that for 45 years now, the pope has issued a special message about peace for the occasion. Peace is a topic I care a lot about, and so I really wanted an opportunity to speak about it on New Years Day. However, the scriptures for that day's liturgy don't highlight peace, but rather highlight Mary -- and I really believe, whenever possible, that I should speak from the scriptures.

I couldn't figure out how to do it. Finally, Saturday afternoon came, and I was beginning to resign myself to the fact that I couldn't make a connection that I felt comfortable with. It finally hit me, however, when I looked more carefully at the first reading, which describes that beautiful Old Testament blessing. After that....

By the way, Benedict's text is four pages long, and so of course I just chose excerpts from his message. Also, I amended it slightly, to conform the message to an oral format, rather than a written one. In other words (as you can tell from comparing my words to his actual words), I added words that made it more personal. I'm confident that I didn't change the meaning, but if you think so, let me know. Here's the homily:

Feast of Mary, Mother of God, 2012

Good morning. The full title of today’s feast is: “The Octave Day of the Nativity of the Lord: Mary, the Holy Mother of God.” The octave day, the eighth day after birth, held great importance for Jewish people. And on that day children received their name and, in the case of a male child, the rite of circumcision. In fact, when I was a child, this holyday was even called the Feast of the Circumcision. There’s also a tradition that goes back to the fifteen century that calls this day the Feast of the Holy Name of Jesus.

It’s apparent from its different titles that this feast contains many evocative themes, but there’s also one that we’re not so familiar with, and that’s PEACE. It’s not just that at this time of the year, we celebrate the birth of the Prince of Peace. And it’s not just that we honor in our feast today the one who is Mary, Queen of Peace. Ever since 1968, our international Church has also celebrated January 1st as World Day of Peace, and successive popes have issued a special message of peace to the whole world. (I’m just curious how many of you knew that…We don’t take much notice of that in the U.S., for some reason.) For 45 years now, each of these individual peace letters has also had a special theme for the times. Five years ago the theme was The Human Person, the Heart of Peace. Three years ago it was Fighting Poverty to Build Peace; then If You Want to Cultivate Peace, Protect Creation. The reason I decided to bring this up to you today is because of this year’s theme, which I think we should especially be able to relate to here at St. Bridget. The theme of this year’s World Day of Peace is Educating Young People in Justice and Peace.

Young people! Ever since the mid-1980’s -- for about the last 25 years -- one of the major focal points for St. Bridget has been our young people. It’s not just that we support and educate them in our Catholic Schools – Assumption-St. Bridget, the Villa Academy, our Catholic high schools -- but we offer programs, activities, and other opportunities for our young people to be active in our parish life. The reason I mention 25 years, is because we are the only parish in the Seattle area – probably the only parish in the archdiocese -- to have continually had a paid youth minister on our parish staff for these past 25 years. That priority is an indication of how important our young people have been to us.

It is not an easy ministry, not the least because as our young people grow up, you have to be continually reinventing the program. We started with ministers from the Channel Program – young people themselves, just fresh from college, who gave a year of their lives, or two or three, working for a beginner’s salary and helping us here with our youth. But then, even after the Channel Program ended, we have continued to fund this ministry, and we’ve been very blessed to have had Joe Rinaldi here as our youth minister for the last 7 or 8 years. But above all, our youth ministry here has taken its biggest jump in these last three years, when in addition to having a youth minister on staff, we finally got a pastor who has really invested himself in personally reaching out to our youth.

So today, in line with the theme of Educating Young People in Justice and Peace, I would like to share a few lines from Pope Benedict’s message. He writes to our youth, and to all of us.
He begins writing to everyone, and then writes to the young:

Peace…is not merely a gift to be received; it is … a task to be undertaken. In order to be true peacemakers, we must educate ourselves in compassion, solidarity, … in being active within the community and concerned to raise awareness about national and international issues. Peace is not only about conflict resolution, but about cooperation for development, promotion of growth, and the seeking adequate mechanisms for the redistribution of wealth. As Jesus says in the Sermon on the Mount, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.”

To the young -- you who have such a strong attachment to ideals, I extend a particular invitation to be patient and persevering in seeking justice and peace, in cultivating the taste for what is just and true, even when it involves sacrifice and swimming against the tide….

My dear young people [and here is speaking to young adults, too], you are a precious gift for society. Do not yield to discouragement in the face of difficulties…Do not be afraid to make a commitment, to face hard work and sacrifice…Be confident in your youth and its profound desires for happiness, truth, beauty, and genuine love! Live fully this time in your life so rich and so full of enthusiasm.

Please realize that you yourselves are an example and an inspiration to your elders, even more so to the extent that you seek to overcome injustice…and strive to build a better future. Be aware of your potential; never become self-centered but work for a brighter future for all. You are never alone. The Church has confidence in you, follows you, encourages you, and wishes to offer you the most precious gift she has: the opportunity to raise your eyes to God, to encounter Jesus Christ, who is himself justice and peace.

And to all you men and women throughout the world -- take to heart the cause of peace. Peace is not a blessing already attained, but rather a goal to which each and all of us must aspire. Let us look with greater hope to the future; let us encourage one another on our journey; let us work together to give our world a more humane … face; let us feel a common responsibility towards present and future generations, especially in the task of training them to be people of peace and builders of peace.

“With these thoughts I offer my reflections and I appeal to everyone: let us pool our spiritual, moral, and material resources for the great goal of ‘educating young people in justice and peace.’” -- Pope Benedict XVI

I think it’s only fitting to conclude this morning with words from our First Reading -- for all of us, but especially for our young people:

“May the Lord bless you and keep you!
……….May the Lord let his face shine upon you, and be gracious to you!
…………..……May the Lord look upon you kindly, and give you PEACE!”

Denny Duffell, January 1, 2012

Saturday, December 31, 2011

A CW Interview

Besides reading the National Catholic Reporter regularly, I also "subscribe" to several feeds. Just this past week, the NCR started a new column called "Conversations with Sr. Camille." The opening article was an interview of Julia Occhiogrosso, 50 years old and long-time member of the Catholic Worker. It was an inspiration to read; and if this article is an indication of things to come, it'll be an ongoing hit.

A few years after we were married, Joan and I lived in the Seattle Catholic Worker community for five years, years which were often very hectic and stressful. However, those years also contain some of my fondest memories. Julia's life in the Worker reminded me of my own; I often think I would like to reunite with those roots. Perhaps someday...

As Julia recounts, it was her parents' values, and then her sister's early influence that drew her to the Los Angeles Catholic Worker, and things took off from there. Some excerpts...

Did some particular experience strengthen your resolve? "I remember tagging along with Mary Smith, a nurse in the community. We went door to door in the run-down Skid Row hotels. Mary spoke Spanish, informing the families about a summer project for children. We walked tenuously through darkened hallways, avoiding broken glass. The air reeked of urine. Peeking out from behind their moms were little children with dazed eyes. They seemed to wonder, 'What can you do for me?' My heart knew in those moments that I was being invited to be with the poor."

After four years with the LACW, Julia was "commissioned" to open a sister house in Las Vegas.
"For the first five years, different people came for six months to a few years. The lack of a consistent, long-term community was taking a toll on me. Just as I thought I needed a break, Gary Cavalier, whom I'd known at the LACW, joined me. We shared similar values. Gary brought insight, energy and creativity to the LVCW. His background in printing and publishing helped improve our newsletter, Manna. We were married in 1994."

How did that change your life? "Because I wanted a family, we adopted two boys. We moved out of the hospitality house with Gary commuting to run the projects. When the boys started school, I was able to spend more time at the Worker. We soon were running a grassroots interfaith program for homeless families, along with the Catholic Worker house."

Julia, you've taken on some large challenges. Has any particular Scripture passage sustained you?
"Different passages speak to me differently in different moments. The parable of loaves and fishes and Matthew 25, 'Whatsoever you do to the least of these you do unto me,' have special meaning for me. The paradoxes and metaphors found in Scripture show up often in my thoughts and they influence my writing."

What is your image of God? "I envision God incarnated in the dynamic of human relationships. I embrace my image of God when I'm able to revere both the wounds and sacredness in myself and others. In human relationships, we're given the privilege to engage in the give-and-take of a love that endures suffering, sacrifice and commitment, as well as a love that comforts, rejoices and hopes."

What about your faith is most meaningful to you? "Faithfulness to Jesus' message of radical love and forgiveness provides infinite possibilities toward personal and social transformation."

There's a lot more. I might drop Julia a note... And I think I'll follow this column.

Friday, December 23, 2011

Benedict's World Day of Peace letter

As I've noted before, I often get behind in my reading. It doesn't mean I'm not reading; actually, I read all the time. However, it's not always professional reading, or spiritual reading, or educational reading; I might be reading about current events, or I might be engaged in reading/writing, i.e., correspondence.

But...I've digressed. To come right to the point, I haven't been following the Pope lately. Now, I don't know whether the most common reaction to that admission would be disdain, puzzled confusion, or laughter; but in all honesty, I enjoy following the Pope, especially Benedict. Among the assortment of Catholic periodicals I receive, I regularly make time to read the NCR, US Catholic, America, and Commonweal, as well as our own Archdiocesan Progress, all of whom follow the Pope in varying frequencies and from varied perspectives. I'm open to still other perspectives too, as I come across them. I try to understand him.

Now, there are a LOT of Catholics, as well as their non-Catholic friends, who say privately that the pope embodies their worst notions of Church; that he is conservative, patriarchal, and that he seeks to return the Church to the "latin era." To these, he's "Pope Ratzinger," not Benedict. I think the sentiment is so very persistent because he was indeed so strong a personality under John Paul II.

However, I've tried to see Pope Benedict on his own record, apart from his previous role. He certainly seems to have made some remarkable gaffes, and I still have my questions about his (non-)actions in regard to priestly sexual abuse during his term as Archbishop of Munich, that he as Pope could have answered, but chose not to. However, his writing is surperb, and his subject-choice for his encyclicals is excellent. And in addition to these, he speaks to the culture of our times as directly as his predecessor did.

I just finished reading his 2012 message for the World Day of Peace. What he chose for his theme was "Educating Young People in Justice and Peace." What a surprising, uplifting point of view! I'm scheduled to give the homily next weekend (New Years Day), and will do my best to incorporate that perspective. Early in the letter he offers this delightful note:

"Education is the most interesting and difficult adventure in life" What a great way to start a subject! He continues, ... "Today more than ever we need authentic witnesses, and not simply people who parcel out rules and facts; we need witnesses capable of seeing farther than others because their life is much broader. A witness is someone who first lives the life that he proposes to others." A great challenge to teachers AND pastors.

He goes on, to talk about education: "It is the task of education to form people in authentic freedom. This is not the absence of constraint or the supremacy of free will, it is not the absolutism of the self. When man believes himself to be absolute, to depend on nothing and no one, to be able to do anything he wants, he ends up contradicting the truth of his own being and forfeiting his freedom."

And of course, he addresses young people directly: "To the young, who have such a strong attachment to ideals, I extend a particular invitation to be patient and persevering in seeking justice and peace, in cultivating the taste for what is just and true, even when it involves sacrifice and swimming against the tide." ...

I also caught up on Benedict's trip to Africa, as I have a strong personal interest there; however, that will wait for another post!

Monday, December 19, 2011

Saying YES

I have always had a special place in my heart for Mary. When I learned that we celebrate her birthday on September 8th, that was a special treat for me, since that's my birthday also. I usually wind up with the happy task of giving the homily on the 4th Sunday of Advent, because the pastor almost always has the homily on Christmas. Well, that 4th Sunday of Advent is always about Mary... hence, the following. Enjoy.


4th Sunday of Advent (B), 2011

By the time we get to the fourth Sunday of Advent, one week before Christmas, there’s something of a convergence between our cultural celebration of Christmas and our religious celebration. We’ve been waiting and preparing now for a few weeks, and we’re almost ready. Oh, for our cultural celebration, we may have cards still to get out, or some shopping to do. And for our religious celebration, we may not yet have found the quiet peace of heart that we know we need, in order to really be focused. We still have one more week, to get to the post office or store. We still have one more week to come for Sacramental Reconciliation on Tuesday or our Advent Reflection series this Wednesday, or simply to set aside time to better prepare our hearts. But probably all of us are at least ready for this preparation and waiting time to be over.

And as always, our fourth Sunday of Advent introduces us to the final Advent figure, a young virgin named of Mary of Nazareth. Today the time of waiting is replaced with a time of wonder; the call to repentance we heard in the words of John last week is replaced with a promise of fulfillment in the words of the angel Gabriel. Today our coming Christmas begins to become real – today we can take real delight and find tender joy at Mary’s simple, faithful response to God’s call.

In today’s reading we see at last the nature of God’s strategy with our human race. God’s answer to our broken world … is to come among us; to walk with us, to become one of us, to bridge the gap between heaven and earth by becoming totally, completely human. God comes to us not in God’s own grandeur, but in our own form, our own human frailty, becoming a human child of humble birth, an utterly dependent newborn baby, just as all of us once were.

And today we see how it first begins. God places everything in the hands of a simple young Jewish woman, hardly more than a girl, really. One named Mary, from a small village called Nazareth, in the hill country of Galilee.

Most probably Mary already had plans for her future. She was engaged to Joseph, and must have believed that they would marry, raise a family, and do their best to follow the Mosaic Law, as had their ancestors in faith for many generations. But then, literally in one moment, Mary’s whole life changed. Without a warning, Mary was asked to make a life-changing decision. And though she could hardly have understood all that the angel’s invitation and her acceptance would mean – and some of those things were frightening, and terrible -- Mary had the faith and trust to respond without hesitation, “I am the servant of the Lord; let it happen as you say.” Mary did not question her worthiness; she didn’t challenge the invitation of the angel. She didn’t ask to know the details or examine all the fine print. Her faith was so simple and so direct that she just went forward from there, regardless of any uncertainties that she might have felt. It was just right for her to trust God, to be open to God, to believe that whatever was going to happen after that would just work out.

I keep using that word “simple” about Mary’s faith, but I should really use the word profound. And not only is it profound, it’s also so very wonderful! Because Mary was open to God, it meant that everything human became open to God through Mary; for through her son Jesus, there is no forgotten place that God does not enter, to bring love and light, healing and forgiveness. Jesus heals the sick, lifts up the poor, forgives those broken in life, brings the outcast back into the community. And Jesus shows us how to live a life totally open to God, and shows us how to love with God’s love, so that his healing, uplifting, forgiving presence can continue through us today.

And God let all this begin with Mary’s simply profound Yes. And because of that yes, there is also so much joy. You see it immediately in the scriptures, as Mary leaves Nazareth at once to visit Elizabeth, and when they each share their news, Mary bursts forth in song “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my savior” and the two of them dance together for joy. Well, in doesn’t say in the scriptures that they danced … but they must have.

You know, the real kicker in this gospel is that God’s strategy is pretty much the same with the human race today. God still calls to the world. God calls to each one of us. We all know this; we have all heard the sound of God’s voice, and it’s not usually an overpowering, commanding voice, but a small whisper that leaves it up to us. Sometimes we get too busy to listen -- I know, I get that way too. Sometimes we’re afraid of what it might mean; sometimes we just don’t feel worthy of what it might mean; sometimes we feel we need to know all the details before we can let go and answer the call. I know, because I have felt all those things too.

But God’s still there, calling; God still depends on a Yes from us. Is God pointing you to service to the poor, or a ministry in the Church, or to make a generous financial contribution to the work of the Kingdom? Is God calling you to stand up against injustice on an issue that will be costly for you? There are countless daily yeses that God looks for, and there are life-changing yeses too. They are unique to who we are, and they can come at any moment. The fact is that our all-powerful God won’t overpower us; God waits for our “Yes.” And in this way, God depends on us – and on our care, our nurturing, our teaching – our love for one another, our love for those who are most vulnerable and weak. God depended on Mary to give birth to Jesus – and Jesus depends on us now to become his hands and heart.

Be aware -- your “yes” will cost you. You might have to trade in some or all of your smaller plans for the great plan God dreams for you. But I can tell you, and so could Mary, that trade is a good deal indeed. And it will bring you MUCH JOY.

Deacon Denny Duffell
December 18, 2011