We’ve just heard tell of
a perfectly loving family. But that
perfectly loving family isn’t the one our feast celebrates today: the one
perfectly loving family is not Jesus, Mary and Joseph, but God. By which I mean: God the Father, and Jesus
the Son. God is family, and by that I
don’t mean that God really likes families (though he does), or God is close to
us like a familial relative (though he is), I mean it as literally as we can
mean anything about God: God is a family, the one perfectly loving family. The relationship of love between God the
Father and Jesus the Son is the love from which all other love is spun. It’s a love between father and son that drove
everything that Jesus did; and everything that Jesus did serves to invite us
into that love and empower us to respond in love. It’s why had to be in his father’s house,
about his father’s business. It’s why
Jesus prayed so much. It’s the love that
gave Jesus the strength and the trust to be able to offer everything for
us. It’s the love that drew Jesus up to
return to his father after his resurrection, to continue to show us what love
looks like, and that led him to send us the Spirit that we might live in that
love.
Sunday, December 27, 2015
God welcomes us into the family of love – Luke 2:41-52, 1 John 3:1-2
Holy Family, Year C; Notre Dame (University Village)
Sunday, December 13, 2015
God clothes us with joy – Zeph 3:14-18a, Phil 4:4-7
Advent, Yr C, Week 3; Notre Dame (FOG Graduate Student chapel)
We all like to be
praised. As humans, we have widely
varying tastes and preferences in oh-so-many things, but being praised is
almost universally liked, I think.
Sometimes being praised is utilitarian, a good grade, or letter of
recommendation, or positive feedback from a reviewer: there, sometimes, the
pleasure at the praise is really pleasure at what we can use the praise to
do. But there’s a deeper type of
pleasure at being praised, a holier one, even, and that’s when we know that the
praise comes from someone being really overjoyed because of us, and we rejoice
in response not because the person’s important, but because we love them, and
stimulating joy in someone we love is wonderful.
Sunday, December 6, 2015
The Word of God comes to us – Luke 3:1-6, Bar 5:1-9
Advent, Yr C, Wk 2; Notre Dame (Walsh Hall)
We love stories
about journeys. Lord of the Rings, the
Hobbit, the Odyssey, The Earthsea books, the Wizard of Oz, Watership Down. Some people even claim that every great story
is at its heart the story of a journey (they’re wrong, but lots of people say
it anyway…). Whether they’re hobbits,
women, girls, men or rabbits, we do love stories about plucky, beyond-all-odds
heroes traversing through all kinds of sticky situations, normally to make it
home, a better person for it. I have a
friend who just put in an audition tape for American Ninja Warrior, and it’s
amazing how many people (including me) will spend hours of our lives watching
people attempt that same short but grueling journey, in the hope that one of
them might make it to the top of Mount Midoriyama. We love these stories, I think, because we
love to imagine ourselves on a journey, to narrativize our lives like
that. In fact, it’s a classic spiritual
practice. You can read books about the
soul’s journey to God by saints like St. Bonaventure, and more recent spiritual
writers, including our own Fr. John Dunne, a Holy Cross priest who taught at
Notre Dame for 55 years.
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