Jesus quenches thirst, ours and his – John 4:5-42, Exod 17:3-7, Rom 5:1-8

 3rd Sunday of Lent (Year A readings); St. Adalbert and St. Casimir parishes

We all know the experience of being thirsty. That tickle in our throat, that as thirst grows worse can become more uncomfortable, and then painful. Maybe it comes with a headache, or with fatigue. Thirst is actually quite hard to describe, because it’s so basic to being alive: being thirsty feels like thirst and we know what that feels like. We also know how good a cool glass of water feels on a hot day. Our first two readings use those feelings we all know so well and name something equally basic to being human: the reality that we are thirsty people and God refreshes us.

Christ offers himself for our embrace – Luke 2:22-40

 Holy Family, Year B; St. Adalbert's and St. Casimir's.

Video (Homily starts at 17:40).

Ordinarily, the times that bring families together are often the happiest times and the saddest times. We gather for weddings, baptisms, graduations, holidays. We gather for funerals, or for crises. More and more these days, of course, we “gather” remotely. What brings us together in these times, what leads us to tolerate imperfect technology, is the conviction that at the most important times in one another’s lives, it’s important for family to support one another and show that support in some real, tangible way. That’s true of the Church as one big family, that’s true of each of our families, that’s true also of the Congregation of Holy Cross, the religious family to which I and Fathers Ryan and Zach belong. And one way we learn to do that is from the Holy Family, Jesus, Mary and Joseph. 

God is with us – Isa 62:1-5; Matt 1:18-25

 Christmas (Vigil Mass); Christ the King parish.

Video (homily begins at 13:30)

Our readings tonight started with a statement of protest. “I will not be silent; I will not keep quiet.” Our lector brought to us the Spirit-inspired proclamation of a prophet who wrote around 2,500 years ago, over 500 years before the birth of Christ, a prophet who refused to sit down and shut up, a prophet whose words were a rebellion against hopelessness and despair, a prophet who had good news to proclaim. You might be thinking, “aren’t we here to talk about the baby Jesus?” Well, we are. But we’re here to talk about the baby Jesus not as someone cute or tame, but as God’s daring proclamation of good news, God’s protest against human despair. And we get to hear what God is saying in the baby Jesus more clearly if we spend a little time first with the words we opened with from the book of the prophet Isaiah.

 

Dios crea un hogar con la gente común – 2 Sam 7:1-16, Lc 1:26-38

 4o Domingo de Adviento, Año B; San Adalberto y San Casimiro.

Video (homilía a 44:30).

Dios le da a David el descanso. Dios le da a David el pastor un palacio, le da el reinado, mucha riqueza, pero, tal vez lo más importante es que dios le da a David el descanso. Digo que el descanso es lo más importante porque la mayoría de nosotros no queremos ni palacio ni reinado. Pero creo que hay muchos que estamos cansados y cansadas, cuyas vidas parecen estar llenas de luchas, contra el virus, y contra muchísimas más cosas. Dios le concede a David descansar y un día vendrá cuando dios nos ofrezca lo mismo.

Christ meets us in our offering – Isa 63:16b-17, 19; 64:2-7; Advent I collect

 Advent I, Year B; St. Adalbert's parish

Video (homily starts at 14:40).

We live with all kinds of distance and separation and isolation right now. And maybe there are actually ways to use that fruitfully for our spiritual lives. It’s like how we fast in Lent. Now, hunger isn’t a good thing, hunger is a bad thing we want to eradicate, but we can use a bit of hunger in our spiritual lives, because what we feel so easily in our stomachs is just as real, but sometimes harder to sense, in our hearts and in our souls. We hunger for holiness, we hunger for God, and a little dose of hunger in our stomachs can help us recognize and name that and respond to it. In this same way, any pangs we feel of distance and separation from loved ones, very real, not a good thing, but maybe they can help us recognize and name that just as real but sometimes harder to sense distance from God. That distance that led the prophet in our first reading to cry out, “Would that you would rend the heavens and come down!”

 

Jesus hungers for us – Matt 25:31-46, Ezek 34:11-17

 Christ the King, Year A; St. Adalbert's.

We feel so scattered right now. Isolated, divided. That could be physically, in terms of what we need to do for our safety and that of others in this pandemic, and the social losses that come with that. It could be grief for loved ones. It could be political divisions that seem to be becoming more and more entrenched. Or it could be a feeling of distance from God. Where is God in all of this?

God gives us what we need to prepare for joy – Matt 25:14-30

 33rd Sunday of Ordinary Time, Year A; Basilica of the Sacred Heart.

Video (Homily starts at 13:56)

How would you like to be given $217,500?  Or, more precisely, to be trusted with $217,500 of someone else’s money?  That’s fifteen years worth of full-time minimum wage employment in Indiana.  And that’s what a talent was. That unit of currency was a huge sum of money. A ‘talent’ was a unit of currency worth 15 years’ worth of day laborer pay.  That’s what the least trusted servant is entrusted with: $217,500, one talent. When the master we hear about in the gospel is doling out these sums of money, it’s not always clear to us what meaning they actually carry.  And going back and doing a little economic history this week wasn’t just me indulging my geeky side, but a step in appreciating the grandeur of God’s grace.