God’s Love Makes Us Relevant

Stand Out

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


In today’s gospel we see how tenderly and personally God loved Simeon. God promised Simeon that he would not see death until he had beheld the salvation God was sending to the people of Israel and to the gentiles.

And this promise was also tied up in a special role that God had chosen for Simeon in the plan of salvation. He was to utter a confirming prophecy to the Mother of God herself, reaffirming from the perspective of the governing religious authority, representing the people of God and God Himself, the message that she and Joseph had each received privately from the angel Gabriel.

So each of us is tenderly and personally loved by God; and this love and its manifestation to us are tied up inexorably with the role He has prepared for us in salvation history.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask God to review with you some of the primary manifestations in your life of His tender love, and ask Him how these relate to His great plan for saving souls the the infinitely meritorious act of His Son, Jesus Christ.

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Saving Tragedy

Crib

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


Herod’s blanket murder of all the little children in Bethlehem in the hope of catching the anointed Messiah in this grotesquely broad net is repulsive to the point of revulsion.

Yet, hard as it may be to comprehend, the theme of today’s Mass–the Holy Innocents killed in Herod’s hunt for Christ–is not a Mass of mourning, but of celebration.

For the context of this celebration, the gravity of Original Sin and its implications must be underscored. In the mysterious economy of sin and salvation, when Adam and Eve knowingly and with determination disobeyed God, they made a definitive choice for all of their progeny–for us–the choice to reject God. The consequences of this choice are inherited by all in our race, and every child of Adam born into the world is born into a state of de facto rejection of God. Only baptism, by which the grace of the Savior Jesus Christ is immediately and effectively applied, suffices to replace the inherited state of rebellion with a state of purity and friendship with God as restored through Jesus’ saving act.

So, every unbaptized infant–including those we celebrate today–is born into a state of inherited rebellion against God.

And the children described in today’s Gospel passage were violently slain while within that state. So, what is there to celebrate?

The Church has declared that, while sacramental baptism is necessary for salvation, and even though Jesus’ saving act was not complete, God–who dwells outside of time, and who can traverse time in any direction at His pleasure–applied the future saving act of His Son as a special gift to these children, who in effect died in His stead. Yes, in the stead of Him who ultimately would die in the stead of all of us, of every human, to take on our punishment for sin. One may imagine that God the Father could not help but see a reflection of His Son’s own vicarious death in the vicarious death of these infants.

The Church has declared that every one of those children slain in the hunt for Christ is enjoying the beatific vision of God in Heaven.

This is cause to celebrate.

It begs the question: What about all other children, who die before or after birth without baptism? These certainly are not slain in an explicit pursuit of the death of Christ. What is their fate? By the logic of the doctrine of original sin and its gravity, they should go to Hell. However–although we understand that Hell is a reality for many, indeed, for all who turn down the invitations of God to the transformative work of His Son’s salvation–it is repulsive to think that this cold logic condemns forever to Hell children who never had the chance to choose.

Furthermore, the Church teaches that upon creating him or her, God intends the destiny of salvation for each human person in light of His Son’s saving act. Only the misuse of human freedom keeps people from reaching that destiny. This doctrine, too, makes it hard to imagine the condemnation of unbaptized infants to Hell.

In humility, the Church to date recognizes that this whole question remains a mystery and is difficult to fit into the human mind, given the different realities at play–but that there are reasons to hope that there may be a path to salvation for such children that is not fully revealed.

This too is a great reason for celebration on this feast of the Holy Innocents. In declaring this hope, the Church points explicitly to this day–showing how God found a path for these particular children without sacramental baptism. While we must baptize our children with all diligence, there is reason to hope in the hidden paths of the mercy of God relative to the destiny of unbaptized infants. (Cf. “The Hope of Salvation for Infants who Die Without Being Baptized,” January 19, 2007)

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Each of us experiences the frustrating reality of sin in our lives. Sometimes we wonder how we can ever be saved. Arguably, his inability to cope with this dilemma ultimately contributed to Martin Luther’s separation from the Church. But “where sin increased, grace overflowed all the more.” (Rm 5:20) With all the clarity that Church doctrine provides on sin and salvation–including the sobering reality of Hell–there remain great areas of mystery which, ultimately, are areas where God’s power and mercy reign supreme. When faced with the discouraging reality of sin and its consequences, it is never an error to lean hard and trustingly on confidence in God’s mercy for our destiny, as long as we strive to choose Him with all our hearts every day.

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Power Unit

Family

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


During this octave of Christmas, we are reminded that Jesus’ mission, from the moment He took on flesh, was not a one-man show. It was the mission of a family.

St. Joseph’s (earthly) portion of that mission ended before Jesus’ public ministry. His job was to bring Jesus successfully to manhood, and He fulfilled that mission fully.

Mary’s part in the mission continued as the perfect accompaniment and complement to Jesus’ own role. If Jesus was God who took on flesh to pay the infinite debt for our sins as only God could, Mary was the sinless creature who gave the definitive “yes” to God’s action, and indeed the gift of her whole life, to second, further, and augment the reach of Her Son’s infinite merit.

The first reading from Sirach illustrates the beauty that is the family unit, and the rewards for respecting and living its sacred character. The second reading from Colossians explains how holiness is lived out in a family.

Marriage, as we know, is a sacrament that is received throughout the life of the union, renewed in its sanctifying power over and over again through the fulfillment of the state of life that today’s readings describe.

If marriage is a sacred sacrament, a sacred state, then the Holy Family is the prototype of that sacred sacrament, the prototype of that state. It is a community wherein, in a sense, the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. The family relationship becomes an entity unto itself, as a reflection of how the Holy Spirit–the embodiment of the love between the Father and the Son–is a true entity.

If we understood the exalted character of the sacred Christian family, we would fight harder to preserve and cultivate its relationships in all their pristine beauty–even while each constituent member is inevitably replete with imperfections and limitations.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Contemplate your family–each member, and the family unit as a whole. Consider it’s special character, that makes it so different from other families. Thank God for this unmerited gift that plays such a critical role in your life, and ask Him for His grace to protect, enhance, and perfect it for His glory.

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The Reason for the Season

Destination

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


It may seem very puzzling that the day after we celebrate the beautiful, peaceful, consoling reality of God’s initiative to come into our world and become a human being to save us, we have the feast of the first martyr. We have a reading with a scene of violence, and a Gospel passage with a prediction of persecution–albeit together with a promise of the guiding company of the Holy Spirit.

But really, if we look beyond the moment of violence at St. Stephen’s martyrdom, what we find is the ultimate fulfillment of the entire purpose and inspiration behind God’s decision to take on flesh.

As Stephen suffered at the hands of his persecutors, he saw heaven open up before him, and saw Jesus standing at God’s right hand. As he was attacked, here lay his focus.

Stephen was reaching that exalted destiny God had won for him by taking on flesh at the Incarnation and taking that flesh to the cross.

We celebrate in this Christmas octave how Jesus has come to earth for us. But as today’s gospel points out to us, our brief life here on earth is still to be one of difficult travails. We’ve got a difficult journey ahead of us, as St. Stephen did, if we wish to reach the prize that Jesus’ Incarnation won for us. But won it for us He has; our destiny it is; and this octave of Christmas can be one of unmitigated joy as we celebrate not only the Incarnation of God that won for us this destiny, but also the anticipation of the destiny itself.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: In your Christmas meditation, look beyond the tenderness of the Nativity scene. Ask Jesus why He underwent the immense humiliation and unpleasant path of taking on human flesh. Ask Him His hopes for your destiny, against the backdrop of this feast day, wherein we celebrate St. Stephen’s attainment of his.

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The Axis of All History

Geometric Axis

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


Among the many authoritative texts of the Church of which the lay faithful are largely unaware, one of particular beauty and interest is the Roman Martyrology, the official tome containing all of the saints officially recognized by the Church. It is organized according to the calendar year, listing each saint on the day when he or she is celebrated.

Importantly, along with the listing of the saint, there is the briefest reference to the special character of that individual.

The Roman Martyrology was revised in 2001 per a directive from the Second Vatican Council, and details that could not be historically corroborated were removed.

The following is the excerpt from the entry for December 25th from the prior version–included here, not because the more recent version is not in general superior, but because the prior version contextualizes the events of this day in a manner that is beautiful and poetic.

From the Roman Martyrology for the date of December 25th, and herewith our reflection for contemplative meditation on this most solemn of days:

“In the year, from the creation of the world, when in the beginning God created heaven and earth, five thousand, one hundred and ninety-nine; from the flood, two thousand, nine hundred and fifty- seven; from the birth of Abraham, two thousand and fifteen; from Moses and the coming of the Israelites out of Egypt, one thousand, five hundred and ten; from the anointing of King David, one thousand and thirty-two; in the sixty-fifth week, according to the prophecy of Daniel ; in the one hundred and ninety-fourth Olympiad; in the year seven hundred and fifty-two from the founding of the city of Rome; in the forty-second year of the empire of Octavian Augustus, when the whole earth was at peace, in the sixth age of the world, Jesus Christ, eternal God, and Son of the eternal Father, desirous to sanctify the world by His most merciful coming, having been conceived of the Holy Spirit, and nine months having elapsed since his conception, is born in Bethlehem of Judah, having become man of the Virgin Mary. THE NATIVITY OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST, ACCORDING TO THE FLESH.”

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Songs of the Spirit

Benedictus

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


There are three monologues in the early Gospel of Luke, each of incredibly dense content with respect to the vast story arc of Salvation History, and each of breathtaking beauty, which became singularly prominent from early centuries in the Liturgy of the Hours. As such, each is known traditionally with two titles: First, in Latin, the first word(s) of the monologue, and second, as the “song” or “canticle” of the person pronouncing it.

Hence, we have the queen of them all–the Magnificat, or the Canticle of Mary pronounced upon her visit to her cousin Elizabeth, and the Nunc Dimittis, or the Song of Simeon, pronounced at the Presentation of the Lord in the Temple.

And then, we have today’s monologue: the Benedictus, or the Song of Zechariah, pronounced in an outpouring of the Holy Spirit at the circumcision of his son, John the Baptist.

As so often is the case, this incredible utterance ties back beautifully to the first reading chosen for the day.

With apparently no effort, Zechariah narrates as a seamless story the wonders God has worked for His People, and shows with great clarity how they all build to the climax of the coming of the Messiah, of whom Zechariah’s son is to be the prophet.

A particularly marked element in Zechariah’s story is the Messiah as the promised great Heir to the House of David. And in the first reading, we see the full development and context of that original promise.

That context is a correction of God to David, who thinks his job is to build something for God. God kindly but clearly corrects him through the prophet Nathan: God, in His omnipotent Providence, is actually the great Protagonist, the One In Charge, the One Who Builds. He doesn’t need a human to take care of Him. His great promise to David is contained within this correction.

The application of the lesson of this context, and the whole coherent Song of Zechariah, is of such palpable relevance to our own attitudes, that it almost produces goosebumps.

Does it make sense that God curated history and prepared for the Christmas event so carefully, and then after Jesus’ Ascension, left everything to chaos and randomness? Or is there a historical, providential story arc written by the very hand of God in the history of the Church following Pentecost as well?

And what about the story arc of our own lives? Random string of unrelated events? Or key brick in the building of salvation that God continues to construct?

As we look at eras in history, the closer we look to our own time, the more difficult it is to identify the story arc God is weaving as Lord of History–as He who makes all human history into Salvation History.

Which is why we should take a page out of Zechariah’s book, and draw very near to God in our relationship with Him, asking Him to fill us to overflowing with the Holy Spirit. Only then can we fulfill, like Zechariah, our particular prophetic role within God’s plan.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: On the eve of Christmas, ask God the Father, in giving you His Son this Christmas, to fill your heart with the Holy Spirit like never before, so that you can perceive throughout the story arc of your own life and your own time the unmistakable marks of God’s loving, governing, sovereign Providence.

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He Shall Purify

Blow Torch

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


We know that Scripture is divinely inspired and believe that the Holy Spirit Himself guided the pen of those special individuals who authored what would come to be collected into Jewish Sacred Scripture and then the New Testament, forming the Bible.

The same level of prominence and guarantee of direct divine intervention is not spoken of in relation to the organization of Scriptures in our Catholic liturgy–but there is no doubt that we can see the same hand at work guiding this effort of organization. On so many days, the profound fulfillment of the Old Testament readings chosen in the Gospel passage is beautiful and multi-layered.

On many occasions, the Old Testament prophecies serve to add spiritual and emotional depth of understanding to the events historically laid out relatively plainly in the New Testament.

Today’s first reading is nearly unparalleled in this regard, except perhaps when one considers prophecies such as that of the suffering servant in Isaiah read on Good Friday (cf. Is. 53).

And the stunning element of today’s organization of Scriptures is not necessarily just that the Old Testament reading foreshadows or clarifies today’s Gospel passage, but that the two work together–in different ways–to foreshadow and shed brilliant, vividly colorful light on the event that we will celebrate imminently at Christmas.

There are two concepts in particular that leap off the page in the first reading. First, the word “Suddenly.” “Suddenly there will come to the temple the LORD whom you seek.” The word “Suddenly” implies something unexpected, in a sense unprepared-for.

And indeed, what did man do to prepare the coming of God in the flesh, or to bring about this mad miracle of God’s love? Absolutely nothing. Until the Annunciation of the angel Gabriel to Mary, there is no evidence that any human on the planet ever dared conceive of such a radical form of divine action–even though that action was foreshadowed in the divinely inspired Old Testament Scriptures.

The miracle of the Incarnation of God in human flesh–this wonderful, unexpected initiative of God in response to our black, ugly, and hopeless rejection of Him in sin–is subject of endless fruitful contemplation and meditation. If He will take this level of creative initiative relative to the whole of the human race, what initiative will He not take in your life, if you sincerely and repeatedly invite Him in!

The second concept that leaps from today’s page is the tidy summation of the entire story arc and intent of the Incarnate Savior’s mission.

“And he will purify the sons of Levi, refining them like gold or like silver that they may offer due sacrifice to the LORD. Then the sacrifice of Judah and Jerusalem will please the LORD, as in the days of old, as in years gone by.”

There is not a single human being whom God creates whom He does not intend for eternal salvation, by the power of His Son’s sacrifice. But He also knows full well the many who will reject that gift and fall short of salvation. In the end, the final objective of His incarnate act is the “Sons of Levi”–those who willingly offer themselves to Him.

Now, one may think of the “Sons of Levi”–Levites being the priests of the Old Testament–as an image the continuum of the ministerial priesthood between the Old and New Testaments, but that is not the meaning considered in this reflection. This reflection, rather, considers this term as a metaphor for the continuum of the entire People of God between Old and New Testaments, in their common sharing of the priestly mission, the so-called common priesthood of the faithful. By that common priesthood, the entire people of God participates in the offering of sacrifice to God.

From the moment after the fall of Adam and Eve, with the sacrifices of Cain and Abel, the People of God have been making sacrifices to God representing their desire to give their very selves back to Him, recognizing that this effort involves atonement for the grave error of sin, both of the individual and of our race.

But these sacrifices are mere symbols with no effect, until Jesus comes and makes the gift of the human self back to God, with its element of atonement, actually real, possible and effective.

He does this first of all by offering Himself as THE pleasing sacrifice, single-handedly winning for us the re-opening of the door to Heaven.

But the reading points to another element of the glorious power of this act. In His redemptive act, begun with His Incarnation, the Word made flesh actually purifies the sons of Levi–that THEY may offer unto the Lord due sacrifice. Or as an ancient Catholic translation puts it, an offering in justice; or as Handel’s Messiah puts it, an offering in righteousness.

This purification of each of us is necessary, not just to offer as a race our great Sacrifice, which is Christ Himself, but also to offer in a finite way, seconding that sacrifice, our very selves. In His redemptive act, Jesus purifies us to be a truly and actually righteous part of His acceptable gift, which is elevated through His merit to a dignity that we cannot even fathom while in our earthly lives.

THIS is the great story arc of Jesus’ Incarnation, and it is worthy of a whole season’s meditation.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus: Come, Lord, come this Christmas and purify me! Set the trajectory for my life that You choose–one that, even if it incorporates some suffering, will fully purify my gift of self to You to be an offering in righteousness. I open the door of my heart completely to You, the great Refiner, with your fire of purification, and I do so without fear. Come, Lord Jesus!

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Go Down to Go Up

Subway

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


A fundamental dynamic of salvation history, that is, a dynamic of God’s interaction with the human person after the fall, emerges as a theme in all the readings today. It is the dynamic of the human person experiencing humility and humiliation as a condition of reaching the destiny of high exaltation to which God calls every person redeemed by His son. The experience of the dynamic humiliation-exaltation yields a third reality, which is profound gratitude on the part of the redeemed.

In the first reading, Hannah experiences for a long period the humiliation of sterility. God answers her pleas for a child, and in gratitude she consecrates the boy to God, quite literally making a gift of him at the temple.

Hannah prefigures the reality of the Blessed Virgin Mary expressed so beautifully in the today’s gospel. Mary needed no humiliation event to come into intimate contact with her own lowliness. She was ever-conscious of her smallness before God. It is not the suffering of humiliation that pleases God as He instructs us; He merely wants us to be fully aware of our littleness, as the key to understanding our dependency on Him for our happiness and seeking a relationship with Him above all else. Mary had this awareness without the need for any bitter lesson.

As such, Mary’s gratitude is arguably even more pure than that of someone like Hannah, who passed through the experience of bitter humiliation; Mary had made perfect peace with her littleness from early on, which made God’s exaltation of her that much more of an unexpected surprise.

To the degree that we come into intimate contact with our smallness before God, and our need for a close union with Him for our happiness, to that degree the beauty of Mary’s Magnificat resonates with us.

As is often the case, today’s psalm sums up the lesson well for us:

The well-fed hire themselves out for bread,
while the hungry batten on spoil.
The barren wife bears seven sons,
while the mother of many languishes.

As we prepare for Christmas in the final days, we foresee the dynamic from today’s readings play out with the extreme of beauty in the mystery of the Incarnation. It is Jesus, God Himself, who enters into the dynamic of humiliation directly, by taking on flesh and ultimately suffering the epitome of degradation at the hands of sinners with His Passion and death. And the beauty of it is, He does so not for the benefit of any personal exaltation, but that we may come to be exalted. He takes on the dynamic of humiliation for us.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Speak with Our Lady, in this time before Christmas. Ask her to help you appreciate the dynamic of humiliation and to open your heart to it. Ask her to look after you as your Mother during the necessary period of humiliation that this life involves, if we are to be exalted with her Son–so that it does not embitter your heart against God, but leads to a profound awareness of your need for Him.

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Christmas is Coming Now

Snowy Pine Forest

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


As Christmas becomes imminent, what are our expectations for it? What are we hoping for this Christmas?

Advent is so strange. It commemorates an expectant waiting from long ago for the coming of the Savior, and it reflects a deep yearning for His return that we have no reason believe is occurring on December 25th of this year. The high expectancy of Advent seems caught between a past event and a future event of undetermined date, and seems, at first glance, not to have a particularly tangible relevancy to the present.

How different for the deeply contemplative soul. Such a soul has experienced God, has tasted Him, and has experienced how inexpressibly enriching growth in one’s relationship with Him is. But such a soul is also constantly in contact with its own misery, borne down upon by its circumstances in this broken world, as well as its own limitations and sins.

For such a soul, the expectation of Christmas can rival the expectation of Israel for the first Christmas, and can rival the most tangible ache for the Lord’s Second Coming. For the contemplative soul knows from experience that Jesus can make Himself mystically present in its life in such a palpable, real, grace-showering way, that the soul feels no envy of St. Joseph holding the baby Jesus in the manger, or of St. John beholding Christ’s victory as he wrote the Book of Revelation.

For such a soul, readings like today’s first reading resonate so deeply. This is how the soul desires to encounter the Lord at Christmas. For such a soul, today’s gospel likewise resonates: The soul longs for Christmas to bring an even more tangible sense of calling, mission, purpose, and dignity to its life, as was the case for Mary when she became the Mother of Jesus.

For the contemplative soul, the impact of Christ’s renewed presence at Christmas can be an eminently present-day event.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: As Advent comes to a close, express to Jesus like never before your longing for His invasion of your life, as He invaded history around the year zero. Let Him know of your longing and ask Him to burst in this Christmas. Don’t hold back.

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Housebuilder

Home Construction

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


Christian life is hard. There is a critical element of dogged consistency to it. It is not just a question of following the “do nots” of the Ten Commandments, though this in itself presents its challenges. It is also a question of consistency in our sacramental life and prayer time, especially meditation on Scripture. Also, there is an element of being present for others and helping them to live the faith, per the demands of our vocation–not to mention Christian charity, both toward the poor and toward each of our neighbors.

Because “our part” in the Christian life is not easy, we often make the mistake that David did in today’s first reading. He decided he was going to build a house for the Lord.

God appears both pleased, in a way, and yet, corrective. His words seem to say, “What do you mean you are going to build me a house? Do you think I need you to provide my needs for me? Look at what I’ve done for you…but that’s only the beginning. I’m going to build a house for you that will last forever.” He doesn’t punish David for his misunderstanding of things. To the contrary, He reconfirms the great destiny He has in store for David’s line.

How this resonates for us in our Christian life! Because “our part” in our relationship with God seems daunting at times, we make the mistake that our mission on this earth is to do something monumental for God. We grow restless when we don’t find something glamorous to achieve on His behalf.

As challenging as the Christian life is, especially when we consider how much needs to be changed in the world if it is to be brought back to God, we can react like David: “Hey, I think I’ll go build God a thing.”

The most glorious, wonderful paradox in Christian life: Far, far more productive is Mary’s attitude toward God, present conveniently for us in today’s Gospel passage in sharp contrast to David’s: “I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done unto me according to your word.” Mary realizes from moment zero that the wonders to be worked in her life are to be worked by God Himself. Her life is not her big project for God. It is His big project for her.

Thus, Mary’s gift of herself, of her life, to God is not the gift of a grand project for achievement, but rather the gift of her “yes,” her enthusiastic embracing of His plan for her, whatever it will bring.

Even as Mary’s response contrasts with David’s in the first reading encounter with God, it also fulfills it. In her perfect embodiment of God’s plan, with perfect grace, Mary brings forth Him who is the Personification of the permanence of the reign of David’s house.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to shape and purify your understanding of your relationship with Him. Ask Him to help you to be faithful to all the demands of Christian life, but to remember that all of this is just your simple, humble “yes” that sets the stage for Him to accomplish things in your life that are beyond your imagination.

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