Stay Awake!

For me, the creative process for a homily is not something I can predict. I collect a lot of good things as I read or go about my life, and try to put things in a folder or scribbled on my calendar. Often I'll save something that I won't use at all, or even remember, but if I come across it later I'll realize that something had gelled inside, that came out when I later wrote my homily.

This past weekend was one of those times. The other day I read a piece distributed by Catholic News Service, by Jean Denton, for this past Sunday's scriptures. It wasn't exactly a homily, but a reflection on the scripture. You can find the whole piece HERE, and here is the beginning:

I wasn't ready. Jesus passed right in front of me, and I knew it. I knew it and I looked away.

This was the moment for which the Gospel for the first Sunday of Advent cautions us when it says, "Be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come."

I liked it; I liked its directness, its immediacy, and the honesty with which the writer admitted missing Jesus because she "wasn't ready." But actually, when I sat down to write my homily, I had forgotten the piece, and was scrambling around, like I often do, to try to articulate what I believed about this particular Sunday gospel. However, it's pretty obvious that the piece affected what I wrote! I didn't realize it at the time, but noticed it on Sunday evening, when I came across the CNS piece again.

Anyway... this is what I came up with. I felt good about it. I love Handel's Messiah, and when I gave the homily I actually sang the initial words, the "Hallelujah" opening from the video referenced below. As I've posted before, I don't have a great voice, but I do love music, and I DO LOVE to sing... and once or twice a year, I'll sing a line or two of something during the homily, when it fits in. I do it just as a way of keeping people alert! And since alertness is a major theme of this gospel, I thought it was appropriate.

First Sunday of Advent (A), 11/28/2010

Good morning. It's a pleasure to begin another Advent season with you. Now that Thanksgiving has passed, the pre-Christmas season is here in earnest at the malls and on TV. Friday was the so-called Black Friday, with shoppers lined up in the early hours of the morning for special sales. A man named JD Dean was the first of 1500 shoppers in line in front of a huge Best Buy store in Myrtle Beach South Carolina -- he camped out starting last Wednesday for the store opening on Friday, as he has for the past three years. He said he didn't even know what was going to be on sale. Isn't that wild? It can be a very crazy season, and I'm sure you'll notice your own examples of crazy things during this Advent season.

But yesterday I came across a video of something much more amazing. On a Saturday just two weeks ago, during a noisy, busy lunchtime in the food court of a Canadian shopping mall near Niagara Falls, a young woman suddenly stood up and began to sing the Halleluiah chorus from Handel's Messiah. "Halleluiah! Halleluiah! Halleluiah! Halleluiah! Hal-le-luiah!" The woman had a brilliant voice (much better than mine!), and she caught the attention of everyone around her. And no sooner had she finished those few words, than several tables away, someone else, a young man, also stood up and sang – "Halleluiah!" And one by one, and in small groups, people all over the food court began singing along. For five minutes, the crowd of shoppers was stunned, captivated by the unexpected beauty and joy that cascaded all around them. All ordinary activity was suddenly suspended; even little children stood up on their seats in wonder, their parents holding their hands and savoring what certainly will forever be a priceless memory. It was an unexpected awakening to joy in the midst of the mind-numbing experience that shopping often is.

Today is the beginning of Advent. And while the world around us will get ever more hectic, it is important to remember what this season is all about -- and it is of course about more than shopping, and it is even about more than the celebration of an event that took place 2000 years ago. In our gospel today as we begin Advent, Jesus is telling us to stay awake! His emphasis is on preparation and expectation; his coming will be a repeat performance of what happened in the days of Noah. In other words, many people are NOT going to be expecting his coming, they will be doing the usual things that people do, and will be lulled into a fatal sleep. "But you," He says, "YOU must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come."

I want us to try to hear what Jesus was saying in a way that will have some real meaning for our own lives this Advent. Obviously he was telling his disciples two things: one, that he was coming again; and two, that they should expect him at any and every moment.

Now, how many of us do that? If we were to take a vote today, I think I know how it would turn out. If I were to ask how many of you believe that Christ is coming again, the vote would be overwhelming, maybe unanimous. Our Christian faith teaches that Christ will someday come again, although most of us probably believe that in a general sort of a way. But if I were to ask how many of you expect his coming TODAY....that would be another matter. I seriously doubt that anyone here expects the coming of Christ today, in the sense that we usually interpret that.

You know what we expect today? Most of us probably expect a typical Sunday afternoon. We will go home for lunch, then perhaps go out for a little shopping, or sit down to watch a football game, or maybe read a book, or get on our computer. We may get together with friends or relatives. We may have chores, or homework. We probably expect to go to bed at a usual time, and get up tomorrow morning.

In all honesty, isn't that or something like that what most of us expect? And in all probability, that IS what most of us are going to do. Does it mean that we are disobeying Christ by planning and living our lives in a normal, daily fashion? Not at all. I do not believe that Jesus was telling his first disciples to be constantly expecting the "end of the world," though that is what is "future coming" means in the minds of many people. A lot of people associate the Second Coming with the end of the world, and the end of everyday life as we know it.

And they are not wrong, exactly...but this morning I encourage you to understand Advent in a way that has meaning for our life here and now. The coming of Jesus into the world should be something more than a memory of the past 2000 years ago, or a distant hope somewhere in the general future. For you and for me, it should be a present reality. Not just history or prophesy, but personal experience -- that is what the coming of Christ should mean to us.

And I believe THAT is what Jesus was telling his disciples. He said, "The Son of Man is coming at the time you least expect him." Okay, when do we least expect him? Not back in the past; we DO believe that he actually came into the world. Not out in the future; we DO we believe that someday he will visibly, bodily return to the earth.

No, the time that we least expect him is TODAY. So LOOK FOR HIM today, that's when he said he was coming! But don't look for him in the clouds. He is most likely to be found among those who need him. Look for him on the streets, among the homeless. Look for him by the bed of a sick friend. Look for him close by a young person who is in trouble at school, or at home, or with the law. Or look for him in the face of a child -- God's Kingdom belongs to the children. Look for him in the eyes of a beloved spouse -- Christ is alive today in your marriage. To see Jesus, we have to look for him, we have to be alert and notice those around us; we have to expect to see him.

...Especially in this busy, crazy world, and this busy, crazy season that is now upon us. Jesus does not often arrive in a few glorious moments of serendipity that joyfully break into our consciousness, like hearing Handel's Messiah in a shopping mall. To develop the ability to see Jesus, we probably need to better cultivate a sense of silence. Silence is something that modern culture does NOT lift up as a value -- that's why we aren't as good about it as we should be. Silence will be particularly difficult in our culture over the next few weeks.

But silence IS something that we are good at here, in this place. Advent is the perfect prescription for the busy-ness of our lives. And our Eucharist is all about being aware of the presence of Jesus.
Deacon Denny Duffell

A Ticking Time Bomb

I have a couple of feeds from the National Catholic Reporter, and read them regularly. One good little article today comes from Sr. Joan Chittister, and you can read it HERE.

Sr. Joan is talking about Canon 212, which gives laity "the right and the responsibility to make known to their pastors their needs." She tells of a couple who got very upset at a homily given by their pastor on the occasion of a new ordination in their diocese, and his advice to the newly ordained. “I told him to remember that his duty was to serve God,” the pastor said, “not the people.” The couple went home and "wrote a letter to the pastor in which they defined their own top 10 suggestions for newly-ordained priests."

Their suggestions:

1. Reread annually a summary of the second Vatican Council reforms.
2. Commit yourself to interfaith bridge building.
3. Be open to a changing position of the church on gays and women.
4. Learn more in the first four years of your priesthood than you did in the recent [seminary trainings].
5. Prepare your homilies with one hand on the Bible and the other on (with) the daily newspaper.
6. Work with people rather than imposing a top-down strategy.
7. Respect the role of the laity in an evolving Church.
8. Build upon personal spirituality by a growing concern for social justice.
9. Store your seminary notes in an inaccessible place.
10. Remember that an unquestioning “company man” in all professions, even the priesthood, sacrifices creative energy.

The pastor's advice wasn't really all that bad, but I did like theirs better. I think most of us assume it's very possible to serve God AND serve God's people. In fact, from the way I read the gospel, most of the time Jesus taught that the way to serve God was BY serving God's people.

The Cost of What We Believe

It was once again my turn, this past weekend, to give the homily at St. Bridget. It also happened that this weekend was "Stewardship Commitment Sunday," which usually means that the homilist devotes some or all of the homily time weaving together the theme of the scriptures with the theme of Stewardship. Stewardship is not really about "fundraising" -- it's about approaching life with the attitude of a disciple, so that God's blessings to us will be offered for God's purposes.

The First Reading was from the 7th Chapter of Maccabees, which tells the story of a widow with seven sons, all who suffer severe torture and death rather than break God's laws. It's hard to think of greater cost ... and I imagine that those who have suffered so terribly for what they believed would think that our "burden" of being generous is a pretty light load to carry. Here it is:

32nd Sunday of Ordinary Time, C; Stewardship Sunday

Good morning! It’s a pleasure to be with you once again, and share a few thoughts. As Fr. Tim announced last week, this is Stewardship Pledge Weekend (Sunday), and you should have received this past week a parish mailing with a letter from Fr. Tim, and your Stewardship Pledge Card. I hope you brought your own card with you to turn in, later today, but if not, there are extra cards in all of the pews.

Today’s Gospel and our First Reading both revolve around a woman and seven brothers who die. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ve ever had much interest in today’s gospel reading about the wife with seven successive brothers as her husbands, because it’s an archaic theological point that’s being used by the Sadducees to trap Jesus. If you dig more deeply into the reality that Jewish men of that time considered their wives to be their property, then the question of whose wife she would be in heaven becomes more interesting; but really, I don’t think most of us consider this question to be very important.

However, our First Reading, I think, is very interesting. It’s not for us the importance of the dietary law against eating pork that the seven brothers all refuse to break That’s not a law that is important to us 21st Century Christians. What is very moving though, to me, is that all seven of these brothers, one by one, endure horrible torture and death. They hold fast to the end, true unto death, to their God, trusting that God will be faithful to them, and to their people. The passage quoted in the today’s Lectionary is too tame! The bishops who shortened this Scripture for our Sunday reading cut out the R-rated parts. In the actual passage, the executioners cut off the tongue of the first son, who had spoken up for the others, then scalped him and cut off his hands and feet, and then they carried him over and fried him alive in a pan. And they forced his brother and mother to watch all this; but that backfired, because the other family members encouraged one another in faith, saying things like “Our God sees us, and he will strengthen us!”

The 7th chapter of Maccabees describes the death of each one of these seven brothers. Most amazing of all, I think, is the final brother, the youngest one, because the king was finally getting desperate to break someone, and so under oath he offered the final brother riches and happiness, even high office, if he would only abandon his God and his customs. And when the young man refused, the king appealed to the mother, to advise her son to save his life. And finally, the mother went through the motions of persuading him, and said “Son, have pity on me, who carried you in my womb for nine months, nursed you for three years, brought you up, educated and supported you to your present age.” And then she said, “Do not be afraid of this executioner, but be worthy of your brothers and accept death, so that in the time of mercy I may receive you again with them!” And with that, the son said “What are you waiting for! I will not obey the king’s command! Like my brothers, I offer up my body and my life, and implore God to show favor and mercy to our people, and by afflictions and blows make you confess that Yahweh alone is God!” And at that, Maccabees tells us, “The king became enraged and treated him even worse than the others. Thus he too died undefiled, putting all his trust in the Lord. And the mother was the last to die, after her sons.”

I don’t know about you, but I want to trust in the Lord with that kind of heart and faith. I want to be guided by that kind of trust in God in every area of my life. And I can’t help thinking after considering this scripture on this particular Sunday, that filling out a Stewardship card and making a generous and faith-filled pledge, is really a pretty easy and small thing compared to that.

I hope you read the letter that Fr. Tim sent with your card. If you didn’t please go home today and read it right away, as soon as you get home. Especially read the paragraph at the top of the second page. We’re facing difficult choices here at St. Bridget, choices that go right to the core of our mission as a parish. This year’s Stewardship pledge is really about these kinds of things: Are we going to continue to support our liturgies – having three Masses, trained ministers, and good music? Are we going to continue to support parochial education? Are we going to continue our pastoral outreach to Children’s Hospital, and pastoral outreach to our parishioners? Are we going to continue to support our Sacramental Education and Formation for children, families, adults? Are we going to continue to support an active Youth Ministry program, which we have for over 20 years? Do we want to continue to have a parish office open, and maintain a parish center available for parish use? And are we going to continue to offer the support that makes most of our parish Outreach efforts possible?

Fr. Tim says in his letter that Stewardship is not about responding to a crisis. All of us in the parish leadership know that, and so we’ve been reluctant to talk about our situation as a crisis. Perhaps we should be alarmists, but we would rather that all of us look at our lives, the gifts we’ve been given by God, everything we are and everything we have, all that God has done for us, and then respond from THAT place. For me, I’m so thankful I don’t face the choices and situations that so many others face – people who are homeless, or jobless, or with sick young ones down at Children’s. I’m grateful for my continued health, for my family, for my faith and for my parish community. And I’m so glad I don’t face the kind of injustice and persecution that the mother and her seven sons endured in our scripture today, and I do long to live my life as wholeheartedly and as faithfully as they did. God has abundantly blessed my life, and God has blessed every one of us here, in individual ways. God has been faithful to us. These blessings will guide me as I fill out my Stewardship card today, and I hope they guide you.

I’d like you right now to pick up your Stewardship card. (There are pens in the pews, too.) I don’t want to walk you through every line, but I want to mention a couple of things, and then we’ll give you a few moments to write, or to pray and consider, and then write.

First, turn to the back of the card (Stewardship of Treasure: Taking a Step). There’s a little chart there -- you know you approximate annual gross income, and I know those of you who gross over $100,000 a year know how to figure those numbers for your income. We’ve always encouraged givers over time to make steps toward eventually making a tithe of ten percent, 5% to their parish community and 5% to other charities. There’s also a place to make payments by Electronic Fund Transfers or by credit card. On the front of the card (Parish Stewardship of Treasure) -- there are spaces to fill in your name, address, phone, and e-mail – please write those even if you think we already have them. And finally, there’s a place for the amount of your pledge, whether it’s weekly, monthly, or something else.

Finally, I want to thank you in advance for everything that you and so many others have done, over the years, to make this a wonderful parish. I love being here at St. Bridget. But even more, I love you all of you – those of you I know well, and those of you I see less often. God bless you all.

Deacon Denny Duffell
November 7, 2010