It begins with one Person, with the hope of ending with a crowd in heaven. Jesus was walking along by himself that day praying his Rosary. He was intentionally in the area of John the Baptist. He knew that John, the voice crying out in the wilderness, would not be able to keep his voice silent if John saw him walking along praying his Rosary. That would be somewhat akin to us seeing someone famous – maybe an athlete – and we say to those in our company, “Hey, that’s such and such a person! There’s Tom Brady. All by himself. I thought he was in Tampa!” John could not remain silent when Jesus was upon him. Something good always came from his voice when Jesus was in close proximity, such as, “It is you who should be baptizing me.” Or, “Behold, the Lamb of God.” At times, not remaining silent will produce good results, especially if some force or agency wants you quiet about some holy truth pertaining to God. Such as, human life begins at conception. Behold, the Lamb of God. John spoke, and it’s good for us that he did. His words about Jesus walking by resulted in two of his own disciples, Andrew and some unnamed friend of Andrew, leaving John and running after the Messiah, and John didn’t mind one iota. That image is symbolically rich. Decreasing from the creature John, a passing Prophet who fulfilled his calling to perfection, to increasing their faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. As Jesus walked by, they ran after him. Obviously, they caught up to him because he said to them, “What are you looking for? Why are you tailing me so closely like a road rager? like they were up to no good. But they were up to good. Are we still up to good with Jesus? “Well,” they said, “we want to know where you are staying.” And Jesus replied, “Come and see. Come and see that the Son of Man has no place to rest his head, unless, of course, I can rest it in your hearts.” That’s the only place in this world where the Savior, who created this world, can rest his head with thorns sticking out. And his arms with nail marks, his legs with the same, and his side with a spear mark. In your heart. Do you not know that your bodies are members of Christ? That your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you? Whom you have from God, and that you are not your own? That’s exactly what happened that day when Andrew and his disciple friend, and later that day Peter, after Andrew his brother told him, “Come and see what we found.” What happened was, they were no longer their own. The process of transferring the ownership of themselves had begun. They didn’t quite know that yet. They still had some really hard times ahead, like knowing their Master was being crucified on a certain Friday; and some moments of incredulous joy to witness, like watching their Master call a 4-day dead man out of a tomb. Or even better, witnessing him alive after crucifixion. They didn’t know yet that he was working on owning them. Unlike us. We know he owns us, right? We know this basic Christian truth, correct? We’re not afraid to admit this, right? We do know that we are not our own. That we have been purchased at a price. And, we were not on sale when he purchased us. We were in sin, but we were not on sale. Because, God never cheapens us, like we can do to the unborn or the elderly who are dying. The elderly: the most beautiful people in the world, all of whom have an incredible story to tell. Yet, we have a political faction in this country today that wants to cheapen them. Treat them like they’re 50% off. Like their lives are on sale. Get rid of them. These people who have an incredible story to tell. Just sell them. They cost too much to keep around. No thanks. I’ll stick with my Lord. He never cheapens us. That’s why he died for us. Because we’re worth it. Jesus too has an incredible story to tell, without him making it to old age. A story of him purchasing us for life eternal. A story of calling us to do his bidding without fear. A story of chasing after him, catching up with him, and never going South on him unless you’re traveling to Gettysburg. A story of our bodies being members of Christ. It’s not a good story. It’s the greatest story ever told. When preparing couples for marriage, I love telling them that I don’t want them to have a good marriage. After their quizzical look, I tell them I want them to have a great marriage. And what advances a marriage from good to great is chasing after your Savior every day of your life as a couple, and you will never stop chasing him until you see him face to face, and enter his embrace. Well, at the end of this Gospel, it was time for a name-change. Simon becomes Cephas, which means Peter, which means Rock, upon which he has built his Church. There’s some rich reality in a name-change. The reality of now belonging to the Lamb of God. As our lives grow in age, I pray wisdom accompanies the age. The wisdom of chasing after our Owner until the end. It began with one Person, with the hope of ending with a crowd

I’ve been blessed to stand aside the Jordan River twice, each time on two different trips to Israel. The first time was the area believed to be where John baptized Jesus. At that point, the River is about 15 feet wide. And as far as its deepness; a short person can step into the water without drowning. Also, the water at this stage of the River is pretty muddy. We don’t know if it was this color the day Jesus was baptized. If it was, he cleaned it up. The second time at the River Jordan was near the source of it. Near the beginning up in Caesarea Philippi, in northern Israel where Jesus told Peter he was the Rock of the Church, and that the gates of hell would not prevail against her. It’s just a light stream at this point, the water very clear, looking drinkable. One could probably jump from one side to the other while stepping in the river just once. The Jordan River is not the Mississippi. And, it’s not the Missouri, the Ohio, the Allegheny, the Ganges, the Thames, or any other river with great amounts of water flowing powerfully along, where you could get caught up in a current and die, never to be found again. The Jordan River is small, tiny, not a major River by any means. It remains a source of water for the Sea of Galilee, feeding the sea made famous by Jesus walking on it; made famous by Jesus calling his first 4 Apostles from their boats to come and follow him all the way to a martyr’s death and heaven – only half of that sounds enticing; and, the sea made famous where the Lord sat along the seashore with Peter and a few others, eating a post-resurrection breakfast together, Jesus asking Peter 3 times, “Simon, son of John. Do you love me?” Three times, of course, to wipe away Peter’s three sinful offenses in his denials of knowing his Savior, which caused Peter to weep bitterly, as it should have for any person with a good conscience. So, from all this information connected to the River Jordan, I pass on a couple thoughts on this day of our Lord’s Baptism, the One who didn’t need to be baptized by a mere mortal like John, as great as his Prophet status was. Because, truth be told, who of us can baptize the sinless Son of God? Only through his approval can one do so. The first thought that concerns our faith as connected to the Jordan River is its lack of a strong current capable to take us under, leading to death. The Jordan River is gentle in this regard. However, the Jordan brings forth a great spiritual reality – a powerful current - found only in this River, that extends through the baptismal font in every Church. It’s the strong current that has caused us to already die with Christ, and for Christ. This happened to us the day we were baptized. In a world going somewhat paranoia, we recall for our benefit that we’ve been caught up in the powerful spiritual current of the Jordan, and that we have already died once. We died to sin, in order to live for Christ. And to live for Christ is to live in holiness. Yea, we all fall apart at times, as did all the great Saints in the Church except for the Mother of God. But when we fall apart in our little world, if we return momentarily to being a pagan Gentile, we act on the message that accompanies Baptism; to repent. Being baptized into the death of Christ, dying once already as we have, opens the door to future acts of repentance. May we never forget this gift. The physical current of the Jordan River is gentle, as it was the day John baptized Jesus; the day Jesus showed us how we initiate our lives into his, when we became the imprint of his being, where the two of us have become one flesh in Baptism. But the other current in the Jordan – this tiny River – is stronger than any current found at any ocean or river. It’s the current that allowed our souls to die for Christ, so that we may rise to new life in his resurrection. The current of the Jordan River is an interesting dichotomy found only in that River. The second thought as connected to the Jordan and its current is further connected to St. Peter’s three denials of Christ. We know that every time we sin, large or small, mortal or venial, we destroy some percentage of our relationship with the Lord. Peter, we know, messed up in a huge way. He got scared and denied he knew his Savior. Fear will do this. But our Baptism, thanks be to God, has opened the door to repentance and absolution. Unlike Judas, who went his own way, Peter never reached the point of despair. He never lost the future mercy that accompanies Baptism. Jesus certainly made it easy for the lead Apostle by asking him 3 times, “Do you love me?” The same question he asks us every day of our lives. But on the seashore as they ate breakfast, Peter experienced the loving mercy that emanates from the heart of Christ, made possible for us through Baptism. Let’s take advantage of this incredible gift freely given to us, a gift that always returns us to right relationship with God. The earthly source of all these gifts from above is found in the tiny Jordan River and its unique current that no other river or ocean can match.

It’s good for all of us to have a second mother. We love our first mothers, hopefully, for bringing us to term and giving us the gift of life. In a nation where that is not always the choice – that ever dangerous word – we thank our dear mothers for choosing life. The bond created through a mother and child, though, is a unique one that lasts a lifetime, we pray. Our second Mother is who we celebrate today. And she’s the same second Mother for each of us. That makes all of us family. Her holiness is unmatched, even beyond our birth mothers. In my lowly estimation, her loveliness is second to none. I’ve had the good habit for years now calling her the most beautiful woman who ever lived. And her beauty has nothing to with a Miss America or Miss Universe pageant. Rather, her beauty is realized in the absolute perfection of her womanhood. She is the number one woman who matches to perfection the term that St. John Paul II coined, “The Feminine Genius.” And that phrase has little to do with having Einstein intelligence. It speaks to the perfection of the female gender as created by God through the inside of Adam. Mary, our second Mother for eternity, is second to none when leading our good souls to the many victories of her Son. Many of the popular Saints in the Church do the same; the list is thankfully long. They lead us to Christ, where we belong, through their inspired prayers and our imitating their imitation of the Lord. Simplicity, prayer, mercy, good works, humility … all these virtues they perfected in a lifetime. Some of those lifetimes were very short. But our second Mother, the holy Mother of God, the holy Mother of Jesus, she remains our best source for reaching our goal of being one with her Son after we call it a day in this quick life. As Luke writes in the Gospel, Mary, our second Mother, kept all that was said about her Son, reflecting on them in her heart. All the newspaper articles, all the journals, all the photos of Jesus playing soccer, scoring the winning goal to win another championship for Nazareth, these were all gathered into the scrapbook of her heart, where a mother does her best work. She left all the newspaper articles, the journals, the sources, and whatever else to a few writers who compiled the scrapbook known as the New Testament that speaks to the important parts of her Son’s life, leaving out much we don’t know about him. Our second Mother knows everything about her Son’s human life, beyond the Gospels and Letters. She could have told the writers like Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, and Paul certain things about her Son that no one else knew. But if she did, this world would not contain the number of books. This is how well our second Mother knows us too. For which we are blessed. We all can use a second Mother. We have one in Blessed Mary, the most beautiful woman who ever lived. The Mother of God, whose depth of love and knowledge of her Son Jesus is shared with us. May the Holy Mother of God continue to lead us to her Son in this New Year and beyond.

Is it possible the star the Magi saw and followed was the same star that returned last week after a short hiatus of 800 years? It was last seen in the 13th century in the sky, lighting up the heavens. Of course, now we know it was caused by the closeness of Jupiter and Saturn with her marvelous rings. And, of course again, we live in Worcester, so it turned out to be a cloudy evening last week, thus a clear visual of what happened in the solar system was not viewed with the naked eye from our location. San Diego we are not. But the star was there, beyond the cloud cover. It is cause for legitimate inquiry as to whether this is the same astronomical phenomenon that caused the Magi to pack up and travel a great distance. If it was in fact the very same wonder in the sky that piqued their curiosity, causing them to say, “We must see what this is all about.” Well friends, after almost a year of pandemic uncertainty, upheaval, and the topsy-turviness of what’s going on, where a large degree of fear and complacency has settled into the spiritual lives of one too many, don’t you think the time is ripe, after 8 centuries of disappearance and distance, that we commit ourselves wholeheartedly to following the star? How’s this: I believe God’s timing, and how He plays around with the stars and planets, is perfection. And His message from last week’s closeness between Jupiter and Saturn is a statement from above that wonderfully calls us to continue crossing the desert of our lives amidst the uncertainties of this world. We know we live in a time when the cloud cover of Worcester is before us. Pandemic and all. A dangerous time when complacency in our relationship with Christ is closer to many of us now than previously in our lives. The opportunity to shut down the practice of our Catholic faith is at our doorstep. That is the reality right now. You choose by your presence to allow that highly dangerous spiritual condition to not enter your heart through paralyzing fear or anything else coming our way. You must hold your ground in like manner of the Magi, who encountered all sorts of snakes and travails as they entered the desert at the start of their destination. Most notably, toward the end of their destination, the travail of a rabid, raging King Herod insane about controlling the subjects in his kingdom. They made it through him, the Three Wise Guys, and they found the true King for whom they searched out. A fundamental part of our Christian faith, and not allowing said faith to whittle away like it has for some good people, is to behold an accurate understanding of the times in which we live. And to recognize for our spiritual benefit the symbolism and timing of events that take place. This is what the Magi experienced and acted on. It brought them to the pinpoint location of the newborn King and the world’s salvation. The Magi had a choice. They could have become lukewarm toward the appearance of the star and said, “Gee, look at that bright star appearing to call us to some movement. Oh well, time to go to bed. Good night, star. We’ll see you in 800 years.” Lukewarm faith is worse than no faith. Even St. Paul said so. Lukewarm faith leaves behind all the potential that advances someone to the faith of a Saint. Instead, the Magi understood the signs of the time. They saw that Someone up there was inviting them to move forward and locate the greatest stable on earth. This is why, for us Gentiles turned Christian, the Magi are our dear friends in the faith. They teach us we must keep moving forward in this New Year. The bright star appeared last week after an 800-year hiatus. Despite the Worcester cloud cover, it was there. We can say, scientifically, it would appear no matter what. True enough. But life and faith are more than scientific timing and coincidence. At least for people of faith it is. I believe the timing of the star’s appearance, timed with a worldwide pandemic, not to mention the political atmosphere, the star God created and called into existence is a sign of pure hope. The cloud cover says there is more uncertainty to address in the foreseeable future, which we can handle through God’s grace. The journey across this present desert has with it a few more sandstorms and King Herod’s. But persevere we must, and persevere we will. This is a present time to cherish your Catholic faith, and hold onto it like a martyr. Die for your faith before you would ever lose it. This would be for us a perfect copy of the Magi.

If we’re ever told something that seems amazing, or just too difficult to believe, and we’re presented the opportunity to go forth, see for ourselves and check it out, then we would avail ourselves of the opportunity. We wouldn’t sit back on the couch of our lives, let something amazing – some amazing event – pass us by if we had the chance to see the results firsthand. Only someone who lacks good sense and curiosity would allow the great event to pass by without a firsthand visual. The shepherds were told of an amazing event; the birth of a child who was born to change the world for the better. Actually, for the best. Adam & Eve did their rotten duty in the Garden of Paradise, turning the perfection of Paradise into a rundown building on Cambridge St in Worcester. Or some other street I don’t mean to pick on. Some time later, after we were lost in space somewhere, along comes the second Adam to overturn the bad choice of the first Adam. When the second Adam – Jesus – was born, the event did not remain silent. The great event in the silence of the night became the talk of the day among the shepherds, the first to be told of the great event. And what was their reaction when hearing the news of the birth of Jesus from none other than angels in heaven? They got off their couches, left the bag of Doritos in the corner of the sofa, and went to see firsthand the facts about this great event. Sit back they did not. Their curiosity got the best of them. And then the shepherds did something that continues to address our lives and the lives of everyone touched by the great event of Christmas; they spoke about it to each other. They talked about Jesus. They shared conversation about his Mother, and likely Joseph too. They talked about the great event of salvation being born. They talked about God-is-with-us, Emmanuel. They stopped talking about the sheep they were tending, and the many hours of overtime they worked, and how things were at home, and how the family was doing, and news of the local sports team. They put aside all the talk of their routine daily life events, and replaced with talk about the great event. They spoke about the things of God. And how God has favored us in a way that is truly far beyond comprehension that any one person or group of smart people could ever expect as a favor. There are still numerous folks who find it too incredible to believe that God did this for us. All the secondary chatter was placed aside by the shepherds, and these lowly, simple peasant workers had the wisdom and goodness to bring to the forefront the great event they had witnessed firsthand. I guess the closest we’ll get today to witnessing this great event of Jesus’ birth firsthand is twofold; to look at the stable here and meditate for a bit, or, to see a parent lovingly hold their newborn child with the greatest love and care. Although we are the shepherds of today, the shepherds of yore were blessed to see the great event firsthand, in person. However, their reaction going forth from the stable and speaking of the great event; that has not changed. Nor can it change in a world that needs our Messiah ever more. Any Christian who does not talk about Jesus Christ in their lives is a Christian who speaks way too much about the daily events in their little world, and not nearly enough about the great things God has done for us. Do not be that Christian. Follow the lives of the simple shepherds who were invited to get off their couches and witness something amazing. Something beyond human comprehension. An event that reveals the depth of God’s love for us. Get off your couch – if you’re sitting on it - and make Jesus part of your daily conversation, replacing some of the useless chatter. Bring this great event we celebrate today front and center to our lives. To do this means we will overcome all the political correctness and religious-shutdown running rampant in our culture. Be brave and wise as a shepherd, let Christ be your light, and part of our every day conversation, in imitation of the shepherds. That’s what a good shepherd does. Merry Christmas.

“Now this is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about.” What follows these words in Matthew’s Gospel is not the straight, narrow and easy road we would expect from heaven’s plan. What follows are some pretty hard decisions for Joseph: avoid the divorce; take Mary into your home as a mother with child; assist her in every way to give birth to the Son she carries. Joseph will do all this. A messy road from the start though, like driving up a mountain road with twists and turns, then downhill quickly. Joseph saw in Mary’s stomach his relationship going downhill quickly, with no brakes to stop the disaster. But this is the sort of stuff that lies behind the greater purpose of Jesus’ birth. The Incarnation offers greater purpose and meaning to all our messiness left behind by none other than Adam & Eve; most notably the messiness of death they left us with. The birth of Jesus, the Word becoming flesh, making his dwelling among us, taking on the fullness of our mortal nature in every way but sin; his birth offers us the hope we need to overcome the separations (especially in time of pandemic), the divorces, our personal sufferings and those of loved ones, the financial woes and addictions. His birth is the one light God sent from the throne above to allow some joy to settle within us. A Christian without joy is missing a very large part of being a Christian. Was Joseph bummed out after discovering Mary pregnant with a child not his? He would not be human if he was not bummed out, disappointed, distraught, weeping in the silence of night. That small space of time between Joseph discovering Mary’s pregnancy and the appearance of Gabriel in a dream was a time of total bewilderment. His life drove over the mountain; his carpentry work became meaningless to him; the ice cream stand was sold out of his favorite flavor. Now that’s rock bottom. St. Joseph the just man was graced by God to gain some perspective on his personal downfall. The pregnant child inside the womb of his wife Mary was the answer to his prayers. In the same way he remains the answer to every petition we speak out loud or silently. Joseph coming to understand through Gabriel the greater purpose of these seemingly crooked events that confronted him; that’s the very same understanding that graces us with the favor of seeing the greater purpose of our lives too. And the understanding that raises our dignity above the clouds is this: that God has sent to Israel – and the new Israel – a savior, Jesus. If our hearts are absent this understanding, then we remain in Joseph’s space of time between seeing Mary’s stomach grow, and the appearance of the angel Gabriel in a dream. That space of Joseph’s time was by far the worst time in his life, and the worst place that any Christian can place ourselves. That place of hopelessness. Jesus’ birth commands us to live in hope. We are not hopeless. God has come to us. God has become us. We still experience the same hard issues that Joseph did in his trying space of time. It will remain with us until Jesus returns. Until Jesus is “born” again before us, calling our bodies home in the resurrection. But let’s not speak and act like Joseph’s dream of understanding never happened. It did happen, by God’s favor. It happened so that we can be assured that the messiness is worth putting up with, because the light at the end of the tunnel has moved from the end of the tunnel to be born in front of us in a stable. Let’s never speak and act like the dream was only a dream. It wasn’t. It was a dream – a real communication – where God, through Gabriel, enlightened the entire world that we matter to him. The new Israel. The Church. The People of God. And this Christ-child, the Good Shepherd, carries us on his shoulders from that bad space of Joseph’s time of uncertainty, to the greater purpose of who we are; which is to be with him forever, as so many of our loved ones have already come to know with lasting joy. “Now this is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about.” And this is why his birth came about too.

“Yes, Lord, you may build the house.” The great King David had a great idea; “Let’s build a house for God, made of the best cedar wood. We’ll build it in the best location. On a mountain if need be. Inside, we’ll build the best furniture made by the best craftsmen, like a St. Joseph. We’ll call in the construction workers to build an inground pool in the backyard in case God wants to take a swim. Nothing but the best for God. We’ll move him out of that old, ugly, smelly, dirty tent he’s been residing in forever, and move him into a new address with all the worldly trappings.” King David’s great idea. So God said to King David through the Prophet Nathan , “Tell King David to go take a hike. He won’t be building me any houses. Bad idea.” So much for David’s generosity that God flung back in his face. “Yes, Lord, you may build the house.” What a difference between David, the greatest King in all of Israel by far, and this lowly servant woman from Nazareth. David wants to build a house for God, and gets turned aside. Mary gives God permission to build a house in her tabernacle. David wanted permission from God, somewhat. God wanted permission from Mary, for certain. “May it be done to me according to your word. Yes, Lord, you may build the house.” Anyway, the Temple got built, not by David as we know, but by his son Solomon. David was wandering in the netherworld after death by the time the first construction workers showed up. Despite that, David’s house idea was a good one, even though God left him out of the project. David was on to something. Like when we’re on to something good, and know it’s what God really wants. St. Francis of Assisi had a David inclination. God said, “Yes, Francis, build that house of poverty and simplicity.” God would borrow David’s idea, and use it for the world’s salvation. God would dwell in the Temple in Jerusalem, close to his people. They could come and visit him, spend time with him, and pray to him. That’s the same search for closeness we seek in the presence of the Eucharist. But the Temple of bricks and mortar in and of itself cannot save a single sinner anymore than the Green Monster can. Beautiful visuals they are; immense, superb craftsmanship, but no life or breath in them. In our weakness and sin, we needed a Temple – a sinless one – living and breathing, matching our makeup. And God left it up to Mary of Nazareth to decide if that was happening through her human perfection. ‘Yes, Lord, you may build the house.” Our God loves us so much that He didn’t like the idea of some earthly King building him a house, telling him “You have to move from that tent to the Temple, and don’t forget to take the fish tank.” A fair question; “Who is God in this case?” Sounds like it would be the human King. Instead, in preparation for the perfect humility and obedience of Jesus, God humbled himself before the Virgin, not through a Prophet, but through the angel Gabriel who stands before God, asking her, “Will you be the Mother of my Son?” As the entire court of heaven and all its inhabitants held their breath for the answer, waiting those few critical seconds that seemed like an eternity to see if the ball was going to be caught for an out, or fly over the Green Monster for a home run, Mary pondered a split second and said, “May it be done to be according to your word. Yes, Lord, you may build the house.” The house that our merciful God wanted was built. David had the idea. God borrowed it. Mary carried it in her and brought him to birth. We await the birth of that house in a few days, in a stable. The house of salvation, for us. the house of mercy, for us. The house of knowledge of the ways of God, for us. The house where God becomes up close & personal, for us. Eventually, a house with a Cross in it; and a house with an empty tomb. “Yes, Lord, you may build that house in me; you may build that house in

Imagine if you went out into a desert at night, no lights, no cameras, no action. Just dead silence, with a wolf’s howl or a snake’s hiss occasionally. So you go out to the dead silence in the pitch darkness, and you bring along with you a bullhorn. Press the “on” button, place the horn to your mouth – in the dead silence and the pitch black – and as loud as you can through the bullhorn you begin to recite the Our Father. How far will your voice carry over the extended plain, over flat land and sand? Will your voice be heard for miles? Would you get the attention of a walking creature, like a fox, the name Jesus called King Herod? Most likely your voice crying out in the desert, especially with a working bullhorn, would be heard through echoes for a handful of miles. That is one big-mouth! I know a few who need no bullhorn. John the Baptist had lots of practice at being a voice crying out in the desert. Living out there for years, having no one to talk to most of the time. Maybe he was present with some others once in a while. Some tourists on a bus may stop by here and there saying, “Who’s that weird-looking guy? Is he eating a grasshopper? Get your cameras out!” We know how tourists are. And from John’s angle; “Here comes another bus of nosy people again!” But most of his adulthood John was likely a hermit. A hermit with a big mouth, an oxymoron if there ever was one. The desert is the most perfect location on earth to have your voice travel for miles. The echoes continue on and on and on, until it fades into the darkness. The Baptist’s is the biggest voice, the biggest mouth that ever entered and left a desert, culminating at a River. From no water to holy water. He owned a crying voice that could be heard for miles in every direction. But John didn’t cry out just anything. It’s not like John told bad jokes through his bullhorn, wait for the silence of his bad joke to stop, then hear if a laughing hyena’s call would return his way. There were no bad jokes in the voice of John the Baptist. Rather, his voice was one of reason, of concern, a voice of holiness and conviction; a voice of truth and light; a voice that, yes, prepared the way of the Lord. John’s was the most excellent voice for conversion through the repentance of sins that carried throughout the desert of our world. His voice is still heard today for those who wish to pay attention. His was a good, godly voice crying out in the desert, all the way to the River. He carried his bullhorn with him. Tourists thought is was a jar of honey. It was his big mouth. We’re created not only for listening. Two ears; one mouth. Not just two ears, being a virtue to attentively hear the other, especially the cry of the poor. But also a big mouth. Now, when a person is a labeled a big mouth, it’s almost always an insult, is it not? When’s the last time “Hey, big mouth!” sounded like a compliment? But there’s at least one situation, one central part of our lives where a bullhorn is a very good tool for us saying to the world as Church, “Make straight the way of the Lord.” Those are words meant not only to be heard in the silence of our listening; they are meant to be spoken through a bullhorn to a word in dreadful need of hearing them. “Make straight the way of the Lord.” This straightness begins with each of us personally. We’re responsible for our straightness. We don’t blame any of our crookedness on others, like adults in a certain walk of life so easily and immaturely do (if you know who I mean). We cannot cry out in the desert, “Make straight the way of the Lord,” if our straightness is rather crooked. That would be a bad joke, where a sneering laugh echoes back our way from the pit below. It’s the holiness and faithfulness of John the Baptist that allowed his voice to penetrate the hearts and minds of the crowds awaiting a Messiah. “Who are you?” they ask. Are you Elijah or Moses, or Mary or Veronica? “No,” he answers. Honesty is a great virtue. Especially when confessing our sins. Then “What are you?” they ask him. What sort of creature are you John? What sort of creatures are we? As we close in on our Lord’s birth, may we draw closer to the sort of creatures who do not shy away from symbolically standing in the middle of the desert, with a bullhorn, with the “on” button lit up, a voice crying out, “Make straight the way of the Lord.” May these words never be a bad joke for us or others, but words that testify in our lives to the light of Christ.

As we journey through life, there are some parts of the journey where we might not want to know absolutely everything about a given situation. For example, when someone becomes ill, they may not wish to know a diagnosis. Some of us would say the more we know the better chance of recovery. Unless there is no cure. But some of us don’t want to know any potential bad news connected to our health. Which is why many guys – and a few ladies too – will not visit a doctor for years. This knowing or not knowing something important about ourselves leads to a curious question about the Immaculate Conception; “How well did Mary know that she was conceived a sinless creature in her mother’s womb, St. Anne? That God’s favor, grace, and power had filled her? Did Mary come to know in her adult years that she was conceived without original sin for the singular purpose of carrying the Divine child in her tabernacle?” Makes for a healthy, very spiritual meditation to ponder Mary’s self-knowledge. Would she want to know that God protected her from the ravages of evil, and the Evil One, and that He created in her being – body, soul, and spirit – the most perfect creature of all time? We know in Our Lady’s visits to St. Bernadette in Lourdes, France in the 1850’s Mary identifies herself to Bernadette as the Immaculate Conception. Did she know this on earth, or, did she learn this about herself after she was assumed into heaven? Whereas Tom Brady is the greatest quarterback of all time, poor Tom cannot hold a candle – or a football – to the greatness of Blessed Mary. Yet, as the Magnificat tells us in the first chapter of Luke’s Gospel, Mary calls herself a lowly servant. The best kind. The Gospel today is the story, not of the Immaculate Conception, but of the Annunciation, the conception of Jesus in Mary. We have in Scripture no explicit story of Mary’s conception in her mother’s womb. I suspect the very first reason for the lack of Mary’s conception story in the Bible is because her entire life is centered in the conception and birth of Jesus. If we could have asked her during her lifetime, “Mary, do you fully understand who you are and how God has favored you so?” She would likely answer, “Who I am is far less important than you worshipping the fullness of my Son. I want you to know and love him as I know and love him. With all your being. If you do this, who I am will be understood with joy.” And that’s the key understanding of this most beautiful Marian celebration. A celebration that we as Church, as proud Catholics, we embrace the infinite goodness of this Most Holy Woman and Mother. We unite our souls with her sinless creation and sinless life. Unlike Eve, who faltered in the Garden, dragging Adam into the pit, this Lady from Nazareth faltered not! Whether aware of this good news or not, she lived every day in the perfection of her virtues. And her greatest perfection and virtue were the words, “This is my Son and Lord. I invite you to walk in his path as I do.” May the Immaculate Conception pray for us. Amen.

Two Masses will be held in celebration of the Immaculate Conception of Mary, a holy day: Monday. December 7 at 4:00 p.m. & Tuesday, December 8 at 9:00 a.m.

There’s a priest I know who has the habit of one-upping everyone in conversations. If I say, “You know, I try my best to pray a Rosary each day,” he’ll say, “Oh, I pray two Rosaries every day.” Good for you! If you told him you were at the Red Sox game in October, 2013 when they won the World Series at home for the first time in 95 years, and that you had good seats in the grandstands, he’d say, “Yea, I was in the dugout for that game.” Everything a one-upper says has to be taken with a grain of salt. Or an entire barrel of it. It’s hard to figure out what’s true and what isn’t, understanding that more is not true than is. There are many, many parts of the life of John the Baptist to admire and imitate besides eating grasshoppers. From the start, in the holy womb of his mother St. Elizabeth, to violent finish with his head on a platter, John was faithful to his vocation and mission throughout. As Catholics, we are called, even commanded, by the Lord to do the same with the whole of our faith. John the Baptist, outside of Jesus and his holy Mother Mary, was a prophet infused with the virtues of humility and obedience. Not even the Apostles, I believe, lived these virtues to the perfection that John did. He had full understanding of what God sought from him from beginning to end, and had no worldly holes in him looking like a piece of Swiss cheese. John prepared to perfection the way of God’s Son into the start of his public ministry. The Lord welcomes the same from us. That we allow the holiness and beauty of Jesus’ ministry to walk before us in every phase of our lives. But my number one favorite personal characteristic of John is actually a failure on his part. He failed miserably at being a one-upper. John’s baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins was a spiritual reality that the Israelites of old could have used to save themselves from a ton of justified anger coming down from Mt. Sinai and elsewhere. At their building of a golden calf, bowing down and worshipping before it. Or being sent into the slavery of Babylon for 70 years, asking themselves, ‘God, where are you when we need you?” Repentance on the part of the Israelites for the forgiveness of their grave sins would have avoided untold amounts of misery and heartache they forced themselves into. Our repentance will avoid all those internal struggles we have. John’s message of repentance for the forgiveness of sins would have prevented all that horror for the Desert People of 40 Years. It was the loudest message to come down the pike that begins in heaven. Repent in preparation for God’s arrival. Repentance for the forgiveness of sins is the number one preventative medicine that cures the misery of spiritual illness. John’s message was – and is – the most effective way to be in, and remain in, right relationship with God and each other. The importance of John’s message cannot be overstated for us today. John was in a position better than anyone who made it to adulthood to one-up Jesus. His message of repentance proclaimed even before Jesus appeared at the River was so effective that according to a story in the Acts of the Apostles (Chapter 19), John disciples, many years after the Lord’s resurrection, when encountering St. Paul on one of his missionary journeys, the conversation between them turned to baptism. John’s disciples, years after Jesus ascended, never heard of being baptized in the Holy Spirit, the baptism of Christ that we have all received. They knew only of John’s baptism of repentance. It’s a fascinating story that reveals the lasting effect of John’s preaching. When you leave here today, you’re going to forget what I said. Years later, they remembered his message that carried well into early Christian communities. Despite this, John remained true to his calling and mission. And that’s the message for the 2nd Sunday of Advent in preparation for our Lord’s birth. A central part of our preparation is a self-understanding; that Jesus Christ is the leader, and we follow. Another verse from Acts, chapter 5; “We must obey God and not men.” This verse points to what will bring us to heaven, or what will send us to hell. In today’s world that some call post-Christian, it takes much humility to remain faithful and true to our following, even following the Savior of the world. We look to John the Baptist for the perfect Christian gift we can offer to our Lord; never attempt to one-up God by taking him over. By replacing him with worldly living. Yes, we are his hands, feet, and voices. But always in the context of being servant-followers to Him and each other.

Listening to the words of Jesus at times is not easy to understand or figure out. It would be akin to listening to Coach Bill Belichick in a coaches-only meeting speak about what’s supposed to happen on this defensive play or that offensive play. Most of us would ask, “What language is he speaking?” The words of our Lord in this Gospel on the 1st Sunday of Advent are not over-the-top million-dollar words to understand. “Be watchful! Be Alert!” Okay. Easy words. “You do not know when the time will come… What I say to you, I say to all: Watch!” Pretty basic words. But try figuring out what Jesus is really saying. Be watchful for what? A vaccine? That sounds good. The sooner the better. Return some semblance of normalcy to a passing world, where life passes by in a flash. “Be alert!” he tells them. Be alert for what? For someone to show up at midnight? Be alert for the owner of the house to return? That play is really hard to figure out. The language is basic; no multi-million dollar words. But the idea, the concept, the concrete answer and full understanding is not so obvious. They can be used – these words of Christ - in a thousand different contexts. Be alert when crossing a busy street so you don’t get flattened by a Mack Truck. Good advice. Be watchful for your family member to arrive home safely after a long trip. A loving a caring attitude. Be alert for signs of depression in a youngster who’s been “unsocialized” by adults because of the adults’ intense fear of a virus. That’s a useful thing to be alert for. Be watchful for signs of drug abuse or any abuse, and all other addictions that break hearts and can ruin faith in God within families. Be watchful and bring them to some peace through determination and care. Be alert for many dangers, physical and spiritual. Be watchful for numerous pitfalls as we journey through this God-forsaken world that God created so beautifully. Be alert for a bad homily! I suspect that all this sort of alertness and watchfulness that touch on everyday parts of our lives, they still do not capture the understanding of what our Lord speaks to today. That this play he’s calling and setting up with his disciples is a play that is altogether different, and most unexpected. Where we need to think outside the box. Our understanding of what Jesus means by these very simple words that point to a complicated idea, to grasp what he’s teaching here, means that our understanding must be divine. That there are times in our lives when thinking as humans, or thinking as a Democrat or Republican or any other weird sort of politics, will leave us way back there somewhere…when our Savior is calling us way up here in front of him. Where God is front and center, and not our politics. So, what’s way up here in the context of “Be alert! Be watchful!”? Our understanding of ourselves, the greater purpose of our lives, and where this entire show is going, is that our alertness and watchfulness are centered in Christ Jesus. Jesus tells them to be alert and watchful for him, because he’s coming back. He’s the gatekeeper, inviting us all to walk through his gate, and not go back to that village of pagans, where all us Gentiles came from. The one word not present in this Gospel is the word “return.” But the entire scene centers on this word. Return speaks to our faith in three ways. First, he’s returning at the end of this human experiment. At the end of time, when time is no more. When time will no longer be wasted. In the words of St. Augustine that capture this truth so well, he wrote that Jesus is returning whether we like it or not. It’s good that our Lord’s Second Coming is beyond our control. We would likely do something to prevent it if we controlled the consummation of the world. Second, his return to his disciples in the most personal way means his resurrection. “I’m coming back to you after they kill me,” he says, “and we’ll be dancing in the streets and shouting for joy, because the only thing killed will be death. Don’t give up hope when they tell you I’m dead. Don’t allow their lack of alertness and watchfulness to adversely affect your life. Because I’m returning to you, and I’m carrying you forward with me.” And third, what Advent is all about; be alert and watchful – again – for his return in a crib in a smelly barnyard. Don’t ever tire of the Word becoming flesh. That never gets old for a person of faith. For a faithless person it does get old. The word is Incarnation. Be alert, be watchful, and be ready to be “incarnated” into the human body of God’s Son. We are one with him in his birth. God reveals his human face in Jesus. And when Christ returns at the end, and raises our bodies to be like his, we will be way up there in the house of the Gatekeeper. God keeps his promises. I finish with the words of St. Paul in today’s reading from 1st Corinthians: “God is faithful, and by him you were called to fellowship with his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.” Amen.

There are few who move out. There are many who move in. That statement certainly applies to our nation. Despite the threats of this or that person moving north of the border or to some European nation infested with a pandemic because this person or that person got elected, we still have a country that few move out of, and many want to move in to. We are blessed in many respects. We are also challenged to become better in many areas, but we are blessed. We pray this remains so in the years ahead for our present young folks, so that our thanks to God will be continuous and true as time marches on. There are few who move out, and many who move in. Not only in the context of our nation of red, white, and blue, but also in the setting of a leper colony. Once you move in, it’s almost impossible to move out. A truer observation would be, “Once the many are forced into that village of contamination, one can move out only through a miracle of healing.” Easy in, but not easy out. In a leper colony, the easy out is when they carry out your dead body. It’s no wonder they yell so loud, raising their voices to fever pitch; “Jesus, Master! Have pity on us. We had to move into this village years ago and we cannot move out.” Lepers in the time of Jesus were no more than caged animals. Restricted in movement; forced to live in the city garbage dump; no friends to rely on. About as bad a situation as a roomful of patients with coronavirus. So, Jesus does what he does best. And if you think I’m referring to his healing power, I’m not. What the Lord does best is mercy. His miracles are made possible only through a heart that loves every part of his creation, except sin. But today, Thanksgiving Day, is centered more on the reaction to mercy rather than the mercy given. On the opposite reactions of returning to render thanks, or walking away without going out of one’s way to say “Thank you.” I believe we would all agree that “going out of the way,” which the Lord did, deserves another in return. After Jesus, we highlight the other All-Star in this Gospel story, the leper who returned to offer thanks. And we raise him/her as a model this day for all of us who have moved into the Kingdom of God, into this community, with the hopes of never moving out. Of course, the difference between our situation and that of the 10 lepers is, through faith, we’ve moved into a glorious community of believers, with all our health issues, personality traits, and idiosyncrasies, whereas the lepers cannot escape fast enough. Their community is not glorious at all. The one nameless leper who returns to Jesus is the Bible’s one continuous reminder for all people in all places and times to thank our Savior for his merciful actions that have moved us out of the community of sinners that Adam & Eve shoved us into, moving us out of that horrible place into the kingdom of light. We thank God for countless blessings bestowed, both physical and spiritual over the years. But more so for the move caused by his mercy; moving us from the country of Hades to the nation of Heaven. A good move indeed.

St. John Paul II called it “the feminine genius.” The genius of the woman who either cares for her family with the love only a wife and mother can give. The genius of a woman like Mrs. Barrett who was recently appointed to the United States Supreme Court, balancing her demanding work, her Catholic faith, raising seven children including two adopted from Haiti, being a devoted wife to her husband. And for good measure, handling with total grace and patience some of the dumbest and crudest questions she’s ever been asked by Senators who were anything but graceful. Her value is far beyond pearls, as the writer of Proverbs expresses so nicely today. And Mrs. Barrett’s value far beyond pearls will reach its limit in the legal profession if one day she’s the deciding vote in the overturning of the horror called Roe vs. Wade, allowing all the children to live. The feminine genius, understood from the genius teaching of St. John Paul II who raised the dignity of the woman to her highest measure. A value that is far beyond pearls. And far beyond the parable of talents too. In the Gospel parable that Jesus teaches, let’s pretend the 3 servants, instead of being men which Jesus calls them, let’s assume for the sake of a Sunday homily the 3 servants are women. This would match up best with the reading from Proverbs. They’re called in by the Boss who knows the gifts and talent ability of each one. One servant receives 5 precious pearls owned by the Boss, and she’s told to go and increase the number of pearls. Another woman receives three, and the third receives one. Each according to their ability. We can’t all be a St. Teresa of Calcutta, or a St. John Paul II (even though I look like him). We can’t all be a St. Therese of the Child Jesus, or a St. Francis of Assisi. That’s the 5-talent crowd. Or more like the 500-talent group. Each of us is given the responsibility in our Baptism to return to the Lord what we’re capable of increasing through being open to his grace. And God, the Boss, is satisfied with each respective investment. The problem here that may arise is allowing our pride to get in the way because we may think, “I belong in the 5-talent group.” Anyone who believes this, you best be ready to ready to lay down your life for Christ. Literally, spill your blood for Jesus. It’s more like, “No, you belong in the three-talent group.” Back to the women servants, beginning with the one talent, the one precious pearl worth much less than a worthy wife. The one who goes out and buries the pearl because she was too afraid that her husband would be angry if she showed she was smarter than him. A more profitable Christian investor than him. We thank God that Mrs. Barrett’s husband doesn’t think this way. He was mighty fine with her becoming a Supreme Court Justice. And women, like men, at times make the wrong decision with the placement of one precious pearl, and what to do with the joy of the Baptism entrusted to us by the Boss upstairs. All this servant had to do was to go out and make another disciple for the Lord. With all her friends, one would think the possibility was easy. But hiding her Baptism, and burying her Baptism in the ground happened for two reasons: fear and selfishness. Fear, for not trusting that God would provide all she needed to make another disciple, another pearl. And the selfishness of keeping one’s faith to oneself, when faith is a virtue to be spread like mayonnaise on a tuna fish sandwich. The woman servant entrusted with the 3 talents and makes 3 more for the Boss, is most of the holy woman I’m blessed to know and love. To add three more pearls to God’s account requires a long list of goodies: a devoted wife; a caring mother; a single woman who loves God and neighbor (one need not be married); a woman devoted to daily prayer; one who builds up her intellectual feminine genius in a thousand different fields for the good of those who benefit from her genius….women doctors, nurses, counselors, judges, and teachers. All called to care for and build up others in truth and dignity. And do so as a joyful Christian woman embracing the fullness of her faith. There’s a lasting genius in such faithfulness. And so many other areas of life. My own mother would be in this group of 3 talents. And the women with 5 pearls who go on to make 5 more, or 500 more. Like men, they’re fewer in number. These are the worthy wives, mothers, and single women whom God called to have a direct role in salvation history, alongside all the other great women in the Communion of Saints. There is no one above Mary of Nazareth. The theotokos, the Mother of God. She is the premiere 5-talent holder who said “yes” to Gabriel. She’s the woman servant entrusted to carry within her the five great talents of her Son: life, death, resurrection, ascension, and return to raise our bodies. For 14-plus years of priesthood I’ve been trying to convince young ladies who seek a female model in their lives to avoid Hollywood and New York and look to the small village of Nazareth where the perfect female role model is found. After Blessed Mary, the 5-talent servants are St. Mary Magdalene and her conversion; St. Veronica who wiped the face of Jesus as he carried his Cross; the mothers of Peter & Andrew, James & John; the Samaritan Woman at Jacob’s Well where Jesus thirsted for her faith; the Syro-Phoenician woman who convinced Jesus to heal her daughter. And all the great women Saints over 20 centuries of the Church. They brought many souls to the Savior of the world. Burying their 5 pearls was never a thought. So, for all the women servants of the Boss, all that feminine genius - and all us men servants too – we don’t want to be the number one talent. The three and five talents are the ones who produce for Christ, who is Lord forever and ever.

At some point later in the day or early evening, most of us will get a little tired and drowsy. If we expend much energy, or even do nothing at all, the body will tire after a certain number of hours of being awake. A handful of us are like the Ever-ready bunny, banging on the drum of life from early dawn until late in the evening, burning the midnight oil. But many of us could settle for a short nap for our bodies later in the day. Having accomplished much good, or nothing at all, we enjoy a rest. The theme for this Sunday’s readings is drowsiness, and not joining certain groups of drowsers, but holding fast to our faith in Christ. I do question at times – when I reach a certain level of frustration – whether the Bishops in our country have become collectively drowsy for the past number of decades with regard to proclaiming the entire Gospel openly with forthrightness, while holding others accountable who subvert the Gospel. There seems to be a collective silence that hurts the Church as Christ founded Her, commanding the first Apostles to go out and teach the nations, baptizing the world in the name of the Holy Trinity. One re-reading of the Acts of the Apostles can bring their collective voices back to where they need to be for the good of God’s People. As the world expands its godlessness through actions and laws that destroy human life and settle for human saviors, their collective voices are much needed today. One re-reading of the Acts of the Apostles and meditating on the courage of the Shepherds Peter and Paul would remove all the contemporary drowsiness and deafening silence. When our Bishops do not collectively have the oil of fortitude in their lamps, they become, like Jesus says in the parable, foolish. We want leaders who own an entire oil company, where the oil for their lamps never runs low, like it never did for Peter or Paul. Fortunately, our Worcester Bishop has lots of oil. We are blessed. But all of them as one voice collectively? Not as much. Today’s second reading from Paul to the Thessalonians is centered on death. The death of loved ones who believed in the resurrection. They expected that great and terrible day to happen while they were still awake. In their lifetime, the belief was that Jesus would return. Instead, they all went the way of dust. Paul, being the courageous Bishop that he was, settles the matter by writing about the necessity of hope. Paul instructs these virgin believers to place the oil of hope into the lamps of their faith. With other believers dying around them - their family members and friends, which we all can relate to – now some oil needs to be discovered that will allow their faith to stay lit, and not hold onto lamps that burn out. Many Christians today have allowed their lamps to be burned out. It makes me wonder as a priest how much of the burning out of their faith lies at the feet of episcopal silence for so long. Either way, the Thessalonians are hurting because of the death of their loved ones. That sounds familiar for many of us. Some things never change for those who love others. And hurting because of someone’s death is one of them. In this month of November when we lovingly remember the souls of all the faithful departed, St. Paul, the great Apostle and Bishop, places into all our lamps of faith the type of crude oil that keeps us true to Jesus until the end. It’s the oil of hope, which is anything but crude. “We do not want you to be unaware about those who have fallen asleep, so that you may not grieve like the rest, who have no hope.” Grieving is allowed for any of us who are faithful, but never without the hope of being together again with our brothers and sisters in the Lord. As Catholics, there is no pretending like our stock of oil runs dry for the lamps of our faith. Do not allow such complacency to overpower your faith life. As some people moan and groan and bewail the results of the election this week, pretending like that’s the only part of life that matters, Christians do not lose hope in what concerns us first. When we die from this world, when Jesus shows up at midnight knocking on the door saying “Let me in to collect my faithful people,” and you’re outside slumbering while smoking a pack of Camels, or outside with our crying towels because one of them is going to lose, pretending like heaven has fallen never to be picked up again. When Jesus shows up, the first way we are ready with an abundance of oil in our lamps of faith is to stay focused on him. Stay centered in Christ. For those who are angry, this is an opportunity to draw deeper into the Lord, letting go much more of this world as we walk toward eternal life. Maybe that’s what he’s asking you to do. And if your candidate wins, then do the same. Death is the great equalizer, as the Thessalonians found out. We’re all on the same page with that reality. It’s best to be wise than foolish, possessing hope as the oil for our lamps.

Our Parish will be hold a Mass for All Souls Days at 5:30 p.m. This Mass will present the opportunity to pray for the faithful departed remembering in a special way our loved ones who have died in the past year and beyond. After the homily, all who are present can light a candle and place it in front of our altar in memory of a loved one. This 5:30 Mass is in addition to our daily 9:00 Monday morning Mass, which will still take place.

In our celebration today of All Saints, there are many singular words that stand out for that particular group of holy ones over the centuries. The first word always for the Saints is love. The Saints were great, great lovers. In their lives, they teach us to love God above all. And in the midst of intense political heat, heat that can burn and scorch in hurtful or helpful ways, we constantly are in need of the pleasant reminder that our love and energy is given over first to God. Namely to Jesus. The Saints in the Communion of the Church loved the Lord with all their heart and soul, as God commanded the Israelites in the Old Testament and Jesus teaches in the New. When we read the same teaching/commandment in both the Old and New Testaments, the priority and importance of said teaching cannot be over-heightened. The Scriptures will always speak to our daily living, and loving God above all is the teaching that is the starting point of every generation of God-fearing people. The Saints loved God, and couldn’t wait to say hello in person. Which is why so many thousands of them accepted martyrdom. As St. Paul wrote in Chapter 13 of First Corinthians, there is faith, hope, and love. And the greatest of these is love. Love sets the Christian table for all we say and do. Love tells the truth about something, whether comfortable or not, whether politically correct or not. In the Saints, their love for God rose above the world’s troubles. Heaven was their goal, and love was the way to reach that goal. Flowing from their love for God, all the Saints loved their neighbor. This is one of the many benefits of loving God above all; that our love for God; that our love for the Lord must be shared with others. The story of St. Maximilian Kolbe is one of the best examples; a Saint who accepted the death sentence of another man in the camp because that man was a father with children, saving that man’s life while forfeiting his own. He stole that man’s death, and made it his own. There is no greater love. The second word for all the Saints that naturally follows the word love is the word faith. In Christianity, faith is believing what we cannot see. We have faith in the resurrection. Have you even seen one? Were any of us standing at the tomb of Lazarus? Is anyone here that old? Have you ever seen a hearse stop at the front gate of St. John’s Cemetery on the last leg of its trip to the grave site because some guy in his casket was yelling out from inside the box, “Open up! I’m not dead! I’ve been raised by God!” That hasn’t to me yet as a priest. And for a few of them, without mentioning names, I’m glad they stayed in the box. They’re better off in Purgatory. Faith; believing what we cannot yet see. But St. John in today’s 2nd reading provides a spiritual insight on how faith is presently working for our benefit. Our faith makes us children of God now, he writes. We’ve been adopted through the victory of Jesus on the Cross. We’re familiar with that popular Good Friday song, “Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?” (And after Bridget, Jane, and Travis, no one sings it better than Johnny Cash.) To answer the title’s question, we were there in spirit because we are all sinners. But no, we weren’t there to see it. But we have faith it happened. All the Saints, including the ones here today, fully embraced and covered themselves in being God’s children now. That’s who we are. That’s your dignity by virtue of your faith. We are not orphans, we are not roving immigrants in the sight of God. But like immigrants, we have in common with them that we are God’s children now. The faith of all the Saints was all in for their Creator while bringing their faith to others. What they sought above all was to see God as he is, as St. John also writes. Seeing God as he is, which many of us are closer to doing than we think, is the reward of faith. If anyone wishes to see the Devil as he is, they can toss their faith into the dumpster where Satan resides. We prefer, like all the Saints, seeing God as he is. The third singular word for all the Saints is works. As St. James so clearly writes in his Epistle, “Faith without works is dead.” Faith without works of love is faith watered down and made easy, which is dead material. Faith with works that express our love for God and neighbor is today’s Gospel of the Beatitudes. When the Lord sat down with them on the mountain that day, he brought with him his A-Game. In truth, Jesus always had his A-Game in his Divine and human perfection. But here it really shines forth for his Apostolic Saints as they drink in his words. The Beatitudes are the works of love and faith rolled into one large, delicious loaf of bread called the Eucharist. In living the Beatitudes, we consume Christ. In living the Beatitudes, we work for Jesus our Master. Poor in spirit; simplicity; being grateful for who and what we have; not looting the property of others; having no regard for keeping up with the Joneses. Mourning; compassion and empathy for the other suffering soul. Meek; reject all violence. Thirst for righteousness; seeing the world as God sees it. Merciful; let go and let God clean us. Clean of heart; recapturing some youthful innocence as adults. Peacemakers: extend a hand in love and don’t join the rioters. Persecuted for Christ; no revenge; no lashing out; die for him who died for you. Being insulted; offer a blessing in return and pray for the insulter. Rejoice and be glad. Your reward will be great. The Beatitudes are works that flow from our faith working through love. They’re not easy, are they? But they’re not impossible either, because all the Saints as human as you and I passed the test. I pray that we do too, through the grace of God.

Repayment in the Christian life is a repayment not of gold or silver, but faith and devotion to the Lord and the present cause of heaven. The cause of heaven on earth never changes as people and generations do. I think of my grandparents, great-grandparents, and even great-great grandparents, two of whom are resting silently one minute up the road in Rural Cemetery, and I think how they have all come and gone. But, during their lives of faith and devotion to God, their cause of heaven was no different than ours. Not even from the 1st century Thessalonians whom Paul writes to so graciously, nor anyone in the whacky world of the Middle Ages and after. The cause of heaven on earth is, of course, living the Gospel, living it to its fullness, and bringing it to the world. Some sectors of Christianity do this well, while others tend to be a bit more timid and silent when speaking is required. Giving to Caesar what belongs to Caesar. The word Caesar refers to the worldly powers we address. It does not mean giving our soul away, and selling it to the devil, even in the smallest way. Giving to Caesar what belongs to Caesar would be more consistent with being a good, productive citizen to the best of our ability. One who brings peace to our communities, not causing little or large wars all over the place. I feel sad for any Christian who is so wrapped up in today’s political scene to the point where their entire life, or much of it, is given over to Caesar. Where God is given little or nothing. It’s a sad sight indeed, watching someone, anyone, live totally for this world when life with God, Mary and the Saints awaits us. A Catholic giving to Caesar what belongs to Caesar is realized in virtues lived out. Faith working through love; works of mercy. Again, I think of the infamous St. John’s Soup Kitchen, an obvious choice. A Parish and dedicated group of volunteers from about 30 different zip codes feeding those who really are hungry. There’s no fake hunger in the hundreds who line up. Christ is in their faces. Whether they know it or not, we’re supposed to know that holy truth about them. We give Caesar what actually builds up Caesar in the sense of bringing God’s kingdom to our communities through the living out of our Catholic faith. Jesus no where says, “Give Caesar nothing.” Instead, by giving our all to Christ Jesus, we give some of that all to Caesar through loving works of mercy and good citizenship. We share Christ within the little world we inhabit. With that said, giving God what belongs to God gets a little muddy nowadays, and it has for quite some time, especially with us Catholic folk. Speaking from years of observation, many Catholics have a bad habit of either not seeing things as they are, or making excuses for unfaithful choices. For example, any Catholic Christian who lacks the fortitude to defend human life, God’s greatest gift before eternal life, and defend it properly from conception through the natural death God has written for us, that’s a Catholic who gives to Caesar what belongs to God. Any Catholic who supports and defends the total destruction of a child in the womb of its mother, and fails to see that’s what really happens, waters down their faith to the point of jeopardizing their own salvation. That person can receive Communion a million times over, but such reception never catches up to their giving to Caesar what belongs to God. And that’s the seriousness of this present day issue that many refuse to address. We want every day to be happy, and joyful, and the Patriots winning the Super Bowl every year. Funny how don’t get tired of that. But some of us get tired of addressing the most important moral issue of today. Catholics who get tired of defending human life, or fail to altogether, would have gotten tired of defending the horrors of slavery in 19th century America. Have the fortitude to defend God’s number one gift, human life. Always. Always. Light a firecracker in our souls if we have to. It must be defended against the forces of evil. I’ve said it in the past, and it’s worth repeating; From conception, God owns us. From the Book of Deuteronomy, Chapter 10; The heavens, even the highest heavens, belong to the Lord, your God, as well as the earth and everything on it. We belong to the Lord. He’s the Master; we’re his humble servants, imitating the servanthood of Jesus himself. Our lives are certainly not owned by any political party, especially one that speaks and acts like they’re in charge of life, replacing God’s ownership, deciding who lives and who dies. Or even a lead candidate who labels himself a “good Catholic” from one side of his mouth, and then says from the other side, “You can snuff out that child. At any point. Even after birth” That’s a Catholic who does not speak for the Catholic Church. That’s a Catholic who misrepresents the Catholic faith in the most serious way. I fear his salvation as he closes in on his own death. It is a fearful thing to stand before the living God, especially if we did not defend his most innocent creation. Catholics respect and defend all human life. That is our fundamental teaching, and not the personal choice of some guy running for office. Another muddy area for Catholics that follows the preeminent issue of life, an issue where we give to Caesar what belongs to God, is immigration and immigrants. It seems from my observation that many Catholics have a difficult time seeing the face of Christ in them. Seeing immigrants, real human beings, in the context only of legal citizenship, boundaries, territories, and walls, prevents us from having a vision that sees the face of Christ in that person. Seeing immigration in that manner places a non-Christian blindfold over our eyes. That, my friends, is a grave sin in which many Catholics knowingly or unknowingly are complicit. At the heart of our faith is the divinely revealed teaching to love and support – by word and deed – the lowly, the despised, the poor, the hungry, the refugee, the immigrant. God himself defended the widow and orphan. Check the Old Testament. It’s all over the text. Give to God what belongs to God, and love and support the immigrant, understanding that boundaries and territories are very important, but they are not the last say when living out our Catholic faith on this very human issue. God is all powerful and eternal. Caesar is passing. Standing before God, Caesar is a wimp. But God uses Caesar to bring love, empathy, and a boatload of relief to our brothers and sisters. From the unborn (the highest moral issue of our day), the sick & dying elderly, the hungry on Temple Street, to the immigrant who is today’s widow and orphan. We may despise them, but God will defend them. Do we wish to fight against God? We know who eventually wins. We give to God what belongs to God when we live, not just some parts of our Catholic faith, but the fullness of it. That’s the repayment God expects and nothing short of it.

That’s one tough king. Hard to satisfy. But in truth, Jesus our King, the King of the Universe, is not hard to satisfy. All we need to do is extend empathy; compassion; mercy; forgiveness; love your neighbor; feed the poor; defend life in all its stages, from the unborn to the elderly sick who are dying. All we need to do to satisfy Jesus the King is listen and heed his words; “Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” What’s so hard about that? I bet at least half of you are perfect. Or at least you think so. I read a novel on St. Francis this past week as I did my annual retreat in the quiet and solitude of New Hampshire in the White Mountains. I didn’t want to leave. But Jesus said, “Excuse me sir, get in your car and drive 150 miles south to beautiful, noisy Grove St.” “You’re the boss,” I said. In the novel written on St. Francis, which touches on many of the real situations of his life, one part that stood out was the name that St. Francis called himself quite often. Actually, he had two surnames for himself. The first one, which I will slightly alter since we are in Church, was the name synonymous with Bother Donkey. There’s another word for donkey I will not say here. And that’s the word he called himself, meaning Brother Donkey. The second name St. Francis called himself when he realized he was too puffed up, or too filled with pride, when not giving God all the credit when his newly found Order was running on all cylinders, was the name worm. And when St. Francis called himself a worm; “I am a worm and no man,” he meant it. There was no false humility. Whenever he arrived too close to that border, at the edge of thinking he was somehow good and perfect, he would bring himself down faster than you can say “Lickety Split.” His purpose was to bring himself back, through the grace of God, to emptying out any overhanging pride in the success of his Order, returning to ground zero where Christ is all. Where Jesus is running the show, and the Franciscan Order. Where our Savior is the director of this opera. Where the Crucified One is the impetus behind the Kingdom of God spreading like wildfire in our lives. Wouldn’t it be just heavenly if we all did so? That each of us spread the Kingdom of God like a scorched earth policy. Spreading the Kingdom throughout families, communities, and nations the love of God that is found in Christ Jesus our Lord. That can make a person feel really tiny, realizing what little we accomplish at the end of the day. So, who wants to be a Saint now? I am a worm. But a worm that God loves unconditionally. There was one worm who wormed his way into the wedding banquet of the king’s son. “Go out into the streets,” the king said, “and invite everyone you see. The blind, the lame, the crippled, the beggars, the prostitutes and tax collectors, even Matthew sitting at his post. Invite also a couple UPS drivers.” God help us! And there in the midst of this large group of invitees is one guy still wearing his brown uniform. Just about the same color as a worm. And we know why he showed up wearing his uniform… He had to work overtime the night of the wedding banquet because of all those goods you people order online. After being invited by one of the king’s servants he said, “I need to finish my deliveries so I can get to the wedding banquet, the biggest party in town. I don’t want to miss out on it.” He enters the hall. The groom’s father, who is the king, sees what looks to be a guy wearing a brown uniform, with brown hat and brown socks to match. He walks over to this guy dressed like a worm and says, “That’s not a wedding garment. You insult my son wearing those company manufactured clothes. Time to throw you out. You can go eat at McDonald’s for the rest of your life.” (Talk about Purgatory!). And St. Francis got tossed out. Who is this king who would throw out St. Francis because he’s not dressed properly for the wedding banquet? You know what I think? (I’m glad you asked.) I think this king is not the king we think he is. He’s not the King of Heaven. He’s the king of materialism. The king of profit. The king of the external. The king who judges the outside. He’s the king who subscribes to the dictates of this world. And there was only one type of person he could toss out of his son’s wedding banquet. And that person was a Saint. Getting tossed out of this type of wedding banquet was the best thing that could have happened to St. Francis, lest he become more than a worm. St. Francis, and many other Saints in the Communion, perfected humility to an extreme we will never know, likely. There may be one or two of us. Maybe. Either way, getting tossed out of certain types of banquets in this life, banquets that do not hold to a Christian life, is a very good thing. Sometimes getting tossed out serves our eternal well-being. Even if we have to eat at McDonald’s once in a while in a brown suit. “I am a worm and no man.” Thank you, St. Francis, for a really good retreat.

Predictions are predictable. What’s predictable about predictions is that some predictions are wrong, others may be correct, and others still are unpredictable. We have a Presidential election in one month. Many folks are making predictions that this one is going to win, or that one is going to win. You can choose who this and that are. One side’s prediction will prove wrong, while the other prediction, which is no more than a guess, will prove correct. One group will smile, laugh, say “I told you so,” and pat themselves on the back like a politician. While the incorrect side will keep every ambulance in Central Massachusetts busy the day a victor is known. Off to the hospital they’ll go to treat a broken, angry heart. That’s my prediction. Jesus makes a couple predictions in today’s Gospel. His first prediction concerns himself, and how the stone will be rejected, and, after three days in the darkness and silence of Joseph’s tomb, become the Cornerstone. The Cornerstone of life eternal that will never be reversed. While we live in a time in history when religion is a four-letter word for a good percentage of the universe, I predict that many of the lost souls will return to the Cornerstone of their lives, the only One who offers salvation. Jesus’ prediction of being rejected to the point of death, on the face of it, spells trouble for him and his followers. It’s a stark prediction that admits to our world having a certain degree of momentary power over him, the Son of God. He predicts, “Okay, you’re going to kill me for telling you the truth of heaven, and how I teach the things of heaven so that you may know some peace, reject all violence, from looting to abortion, the worse violence of all.” Then he further tells his hearers, “I know you’re going to reject my message, toss it aside like a bad apple, and move ahead with crucifixion. The Stone will be killed.” And so it came to pass. His prediction was spot on. But the greatness of Jesus’ prediction doesn’t end on Golgotha. The stone becomes the Cornerstone. He becomes our Cornerstone through his resurrection. And the truth of this prediction by the Lord; we own it. So, what comes from this prediction is the question, “Are you ready to see them again? Where death is no more; where cancer is eternally absent; where peace is fully known; where forgiveness is never needed, that hardest of virtues gone forever; where joy is complete. Are you prepared to see them?” That’s the prediction of the Cornerstone, and the Cornerstone is Christ Jesus. His second prediction is the prediction of the kingdom being taken away from those who, not only reject the stone, but the Cornerstone. This is a prediction with hard results. The prevailing thought nowadays is that everyone is going off to heaven when we die. I’m pretty confident in saying that’s not going to happen. The Scriptures tell us to work out our salvation with fear and trembling. There’s way too much in Scripture that says this “direct ticket to heaven for everyone” is a bad prediction on our part. Everyone flying off to heaven after our last breath on earth dismisses the harsh reality of sin. These are fearful words our Lord speaks today; “The kingdom of heaven will be taken away from you and given to a people that will produce its fruit.” Not the fruit of an angry world. That’s the rotten fruit from the Garden of Eden. We live and share the fruits of heaven in the midst of a twisted and perverted generation. Paul provides the list of fruits, and a beautiful list it is. Whatever is true; truth grounded in our Christian faith. Whatever is honorable, just, pure, lovely, gracious, any excellence, anything worthy of praise. With each of these virtues that Paul writes to the Philippians, we instinctively know and understand how each of these virtues connect to Christ, and not twisting them into a false representation of God. Every holy list should remain holy, untainted by human predictions. Our Lord’s predictions today give us two understandings of our faith; that he is the stone rejected, moving three days ahead to become the Cornerstone of eternal life. He promises that the everlasting part of our human condition will be one of complete joy. And second, that a straight ticket to heaven is no guarantee for every person in the history of the world. God is the Judge who will make the final call. But he makes it clear that Paul’s list of good fruit is a requirement to be included in his eternal kingdom.