God lifts us up, so we should dare to fall – Matt 5:1-12a (Celebration of St. Francis de Sales)

Fourth Sunday of Ordinary Time, Year A, parish celebration of St. Francis de Sales; Holy Infant parish.

When I was teaching confirmation class, this passage we just heard from Matthew, the beatitudes, was in our textbook. But, rather confusingly, it was in the section on Christian morality, on a right hand page, right next to the Ten Commandments on the left. I, at least, was confused by this, because the beatitudes aren’t primarily about what we’re meant to do at all. We have beautiful Christian teaching about what we are to do and not do; the Ten Commandments, inherited from our Jewish roots, work great as a to-do list (along with a not-to-do-list). I could tell the kids, make sure you honor father and mother this week, careful of that coveting. But the beatitudes? How could I tell them, go out and be poor this week, or go mourn?

Jesus enlightens the darkness – Matt 4:12-23, Isa 8:23-9:3

Ordinary Time, Year A, Wk 3; Holy Infant parish.

“When Jesus heard that John had been arrested…”  That’s how Jesus’ earthly ministry starts in Matthew. Jesus’ earthly ministry starts with tragedy, the arrest of John the Baptist. Jesus gets baptized by John, then he goes through his forty days in the desert (our lectionary moves that reading out of sequence, so we read it at the start of Lent), then he waits an unknown amount of time, until this moment, “John had been arrested.” Matthew doesn’t tell us how Jesus felt. Was his reaction something like frustration? – John was meant to be preparing his way, and he wasn’t done yet (we’ll see throughout the gospel how unprepared his way is!), but now he’s gone and got himself arrested so Jesus will just have to start ministry anyway. Maybe it’s fear? – if they arrested John, what will they do to him? Maybe there’s some grief, pre-emptive grief knowing what’ll likely come next for John, with all the weird mix of sadness and anger that entails.

Jesus baptizes us – John 1:29-34, Isa 49:3, 5-6

Second Sunday of OT, Year A; Holy Infant Parish.

Normally, the Church celebrates the feast of the Baptism of Christ on the Sunday after Epiphany. This year is strange, in that with Christmas being on a Sunday, the Baptism of Christ got moved to last Monday (when the local Church here was celebrating the feast of ‘not dying on icy roads’) and this is the first Sunday of Ordinary Time, which (confusingly) is the Sunday of the Second Week of Ordinary Time (which started with a half week last Tuesday). Confused yet?  All of those arcane calendrical calculations aside, in a coincidence, or probably act of Providence, this week we’re assigned a reading which is about the Baptism of Christ, albeit in a rather different sense than the Feast we observed on Monday. That feast is about the Baptism of Christ, as in, the time when Christ got baptized. This reading from John is about the Baptism of Christ, in the sense of the Baptism with which Christ baptizes. This reading is the kernel of the gospel, that God acts in Christ for us. In this case, the promise that Jesus will baptize us.

God makes the deserted bloom – Matt 11:2-11, Isa 35:1-6a, 10

Third Sunday of Advent, Year A; Holy Infant Church

“Here is your God.”  Behold, your God.  Those are the words we heard from the book of Isaiah.  It goes on: He comes with vindication, with divine recompense, he comes to save you.  It goes on, talking of all the miraculous healing that will happen, all great cause for rejoicing on this Gaudete Sunday, the Sunday of rejoicing.  But, the future, what will happen, can distract us, almost water down, the exultant immanence of the Hebrew acclamation:  Hinneh elohekem!  “Here Is your God.”  Not, here’s the spot where he will be, just hang on; certainly not, there’s where he will be, but he’s distant now, so don’t bother Him.  No.  Here is your God.  The cry might go up… “where?”

God makes us kings – Isa 11:1-9

2nd Sunday of Advent, Year A; Holy Infant parish

We use cute kittens for praising friends.  Ask anyone who got confirmed at Holy Cross grade school in South Bend, IN in 2014 or ’15 what the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit are, and right before they tell you wisdom, understanding, counsel, knowledge, fortitude, piety, fear of the Lord, they’ll probably think to themselves: we use cute kittens for praising friends.  It taught the confirmation class to our 7^th and 8^th graders, and made up that mnemonic (where the first letter of each word matches) to make sure they remember the seven gifts, because I knew that our bishop would base his confirmation homily around asking them what the seven gifts were and preaching about each one.  Only on one quiz did I ever get told that the seven gives were wisdom, understanding, counsel, kittens, fortitude, piety and fear of the Lord.

God enlivens our run to Him – Adv I collect

Advent I, Year A; Holy Infant parish.

Grant your faithful, we pray, almighty God,

The resolve to run forth to meet your Christ

With righteous deeds at his coming,

So that, gathered at his right hand,

They may be worthy to possess the heavenly kingdom.

Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,

Who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,

One God, for ever and ever.

Advent is for waiting – if people know one thing about Advent, it’s probably that.  We’re waiting for Christmas, which isn’t very long to wait and we’re waiting for Christ to come again, without knowing how long that will be.  Regardless, we’re waiting.  So why did our opening prayer, our collect, talk about running?  “Grant us the resolve to run forth to meet your Christ.”  That’s what we prayed at the start of Mass.  Running: it’s a fascinating and compelling characterization of what Christian waiting looks like.

God overlooks our sins that He might dwell with us – Luke 19:1-10, Wis 11:22-12:2

Ordinary Time, Year C, 31st Sunday; Holy Infant.

When you look at Zacchaeus, what do you see?  We know what the crowd saw.  They saw a short man, collaborating with Roman occupiers, a man they disdained and feared in equal measure.  They saw someone who they presumed was an extortioner, and I’m sure tale upon tale of how wicked this bogeyman was spread, picking up embellishments like ships collecting barnacles.  We don’t know whether this was true.  We don’t know whether his extravagant gift to the poor was a one-off, spontaneous gesture occasioned by meeting Jesus, or his habitual practice that he just now makes public.  We don’t know if he extorted anything, or if his promise to pay back four times as much was a cheap one to make because he had only ever made the costly decision to never act dishonestly.  All we know was that he wanted to see Jesus, and he would go to any lengths necessary to make that happen.  This well-to-do well-feared man, would publically humiliate himself by shimmying up a tree: All to see Jesus.