Behold and Believe

Seeing with eyes of faith at Christmas

12/21/2020

Song of Songs 2:8-14 Hark! my lover–here he comes springing across the mountains, leaping across the hills. My lover is like a gazelle or a young stag. Here he stands behind our wall, gazing through the windows, peering through the lattices. My lover speaks; he says to me, “Arise, my beloved, my dove, my beautiful one, and come! “For see, the winter is past, the rains are over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth, the time of pruning the vines has come, and the song of the dove is heard in our land. The fig tree puts forth its figs, and the vines, in bloom, give forth fragrance. Arise, my beloved, my beautiful one, and come! “O my dove in the clefts of the rock, in the secret recesses of the cliff, Let me see you, let me hear your voice, For your voice is sweet, and you are lovely.”

One of the most curious words in the Bible is also one of the most common, and therefore easily overlooked, namely, “behold.” We hear it again and again in Luke’s infancy narratives: the angel says to Mary, “Behold,” and Mary replies to the angel, “Behold.” Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines the word “behold” as, “to perceive through sight or apprehension, to see.” But when the Bible uses “behold,” it means much more than merely to see with the eyes, it invites us to see with the heart. To behold in the biblical sense, therefore, requires an interior vision, to see with the eyes of faith. To behold is to believe.

When Mary said in Luke 1:38, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord,” she was inviting us to see her with the eyes of faith as more than a humble peasant girl from Palestine. It would require 400 years of polishing our faith lenses, until in 431 the Council of Ephesus declared Mary to be the “Theotokos,” literally, “God-bearer,” or “Mother of God.” In other words, the Council of Ephesus was saying, “Behold Mary, the Mother of God.” To behold not only helps us to see God better; it helps us to see each other more clearly, beginning with Mary. To behold is to believe.

In the first reading from the Song of Songs, two similar words are used that strike a strong resemblance to “behold,” that is, "Hark" and "For See." Remember that Song of Songs is the romantic, love poetry of the Old Testament, the hymn that the Beloved (humanity) sings to the Lover (God), and his response. In Songs 2:8, the Beloved says: “Hark! My lover – here he comes springing across the mountains, leaping across the hills.” Later the Lover answers in Songs 2:11, “For see, the winter is past, the rains are over and gone, The flowers appear on the earth.” Both the words, Hark,” and “For See” could be replaced by “Behold” because both the Beloved and the Lover want the other to see with the heart more than with the head. That is, to behold and to believe in their love.

At the risk of oversimplification, I am convinced the word “behold” holds the key to unlock the mystery of Christmas. How so? Well, many people saw the birth of Jesus that first Christmas: some saw only with the eyes in their head while others looked on with eyes of faith. The latter beheld and believed. People sometimes ask me: “Fr. John, how did the Jews miss Jesus as the Messiah?” Have you ever pondered that question? When you consider all the prophesies, the parallels, and the prefigurations in the Old Testament that all point to Jesus like a huge neon sign, how could anyone miss the Messiah? One answer to that question is they see but they do not behold, because to behold is to believe.

This same question could be asked of many Christians today. In only four days billions of Catholics all over the world will celebrate Christmas, but how many will merely see while others will truly behold? That is, how many will come to the crib of the Christ Child with the interior vision of faith and behold and believe? On the other hand, how many of us will be caught up by the commercialism of Christmas and miss the Messiah every bit as much as the Jews of the first century?

But we do not have to wait till Christmas to behold and believe. In just a few minutes, at every Mass the priest echoes the angel Gabriel and Mother Mary in the gospel of Luke, he repeats with the Beloved and the Lover in the Song of Songs, as he elevates the Sacred Host and says, “Behold the Lamb of God, behold him who takes away the sins of the world. Blessed are those who are called to the supper of the Lamb.” In a sense, at every Mass we celebrate a little Christmas. Christ is born for us again in the manger of the priest's hands, where he becomes the Bread that feeds the world. We are told to “Behold” and to believe.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Christmas Traditions

Becoming part of the Christmas Tradition

12/20/2020

Luke 1:26-38 The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a town of Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin’s name was Mary. And coming to her, he said, “Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you.” Then the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. “Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her.

The seasons of Advent and Christmas are intense times of timeless traditions. A tradition is a particular practice or custom that you have observed for so long you cannot remember ever not doing it. It stretches back and back, and is shrouded in “time immemorial.” Can you think of some of your family traditions around Christmas? One of my favorite childhood memories was attending midnight Mass. I dressed up in a suit and tie but I always felt terribly tired. As soon as we sat down for the readings, my head hit my father’s shoulder and I fell fast asleep. I never heard a midnight Mass homily until I had to deliver one as a priest. My parents bribed us into dressing up and going to midnight Mass with the promise to open presents when we returned home. On the car ride home, I looked forward to the hot chocolate, the Christmas music, and the alluring presents. Suddenly, I felt wide awake at 2 a.m. – a Christmas miracle!

This year, though, because of the coronavirus pandemic we may not be able to observe all those timeless traditions we grew up with. That is why it helps to distinguish between two kinds of traditions. One Tradition is spelled with a capital “T” and the other tradition is spelled with a small “t.” What’s the diff? The capital “T” Traditions never change, while the small “t” traditions can and do change. For example, this year here at Immaculate Conception, we will not have our Christmas children’s pageant because of the large crowd that always attends that Mass and the need to social distance. I am so disappointed to cancel that, and I am sure you are too. Also, we will not have our traditional Christmas carols prior to midnight Mass for the same reasons. For many of us it simply will not feel like Christmas without those beautiful traditions. But remember the two "T's" of “tradition.” We may have to live without some of our small “t” traditions. But the capital “T” Tradition is Christmas itself, the birthday of Jesus, and the coronavirus cannot cancel Christmas.

In the gospel of Luke the angel appears to Mary and announces the Good News of the birth of the Messiah. But do you realize that is not the moment when the Christmas Tradition began? The Tradition that God would send a Savior stretched back to “time immemorial.” The angel explains about Mary’s Child: “He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father.” In other words, the angel was touching upon a Tradition that stretched back one thousand years to the time of King David. That is why in the first reading from 2 Samuel 7, God promised David, again touching the chord of this same Tradition: “I will raise up your heir after you…and I will make his kingdom firm.” That promise was perfectly fulfilled in Jesus, the “Son of David.”

But I would suggest to you that this Tradition stretches back even farther than David; indeed, it goes back to before the dawn of history, to Adam and Eve. God had promised to our first Parents how he would send a Savior from a future Female, a Woman who could crush Satan’s head. God said to Satan in Gen. 3:15: “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers. She will strike at your head, while you strike at her heel.” That timeless Tradition (with a capital “T”) is what we celebrate every Christmas. God promised that neither Satan nor the coronavirus could cancel Christmas.

My friends, rather than focus on or feel bad about the traditions we may not observe this year, perhaps we should remember the traditions we will enjoy, and even new ones that we might discover. For example, I have already received this year’s “clergy cut” of Mean Jean’s Moosemilk from Jean Shields. The coming of the Messiah is annually announced by the coming of Moosemilk! Here at I.C. we have added two more Masses for Christmas in the hopes of spreading people apart and keeping everyone safe. Maybe we are starting a new tradition. We will have an extra English Mass on Christmas Eve at 9 p.m. and another Spanish Mass on Christmas Day at 2 p.m. Another new tradition is how technology has helped my family to keep in touch. My family actually talks more now than we did before the pandemic. Every Sunday evening we participate in “Family Facetime.” It has been a beautiful blessing to keep in touch weekly with my nieces and nephews. The coronavirus has not canceled Christmas; it has taught us new ways to celebrate it.

All these small “t” traditions live in the shadow of the capital “T” Tradition, like mushrooms that sprout in the shade of an oak tree. The Tradition of the Woman and Child is rooted in the ground of Genesis, its trunk shoots up through 2 Samuel, its branches burst forth in Luke and Matthew, and its leaves reach heaven in Revelation. Rev. 12 reads: “And a great sign appeared in heaven, a woman clothed with the sun…and on her head a crown of twelve stars…She brought forth a male child, one who is to rule all the nations.” The whole Bible is an unbroken Tradition, from Genesis to Revelation, about the coming of Christ at Christmas, stretching from the beginning to the end of time. That is why the coronavirus cannot cancel Christmas, but like me as a small boy, you might sleep through it.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Major in Minors

Overcoming venial sins and maturing as Christians

12/15/2020

Zephaniah 3:1-2, 9-13 Thus says the LORD: Woe to the city, rebellious and polluted, to the tyrannical city! She hears no voice, accepts no correction; In the LORD she has not trusted, to her God she has not drawn near. For then I will change and purify the lips of the peoples, That they all may call upon the name of the LORD, to serve him with one accord; From beyond the rivers of Ethiopia and as far as the recesses of the North, they shall bring me offerings. On that day You need not be ashamed of all your deeds, your rebellious actions against me; For then will I remove from your midst the proud braggarts, And you shall no longer exalt yourself on my holy mountain. But I will leave as a remnant in your midst a people humble and lowly, Who shall take refuge in the name of the LORD: the remnant of Israel. They shall do no wrong and speak no lies; Nor shall there be found in their mouths a deceitful tongue; They shall pasture and couch their flocks with none to disturb them.

Have you heard of the phrase “to major in the minors”? That is a criticism leveled at someone who spends the majority of their time on minor or unimportant matters. To major in the minors is typically a bad thing to do. But when that phrase is applied to scripture study, it suddenly becomes a very good thing. How so? In the Old Testament there are a total of 18 prophetic books: 6 are classified as “major prophets” and 12 are called “minor prophets.”

The major prophets are the longer prophetic books, like Isaiah which has 66 chapters. The minor prophets are the shorter prophetic books, like today’s first reading from Zephaniah, which only has 3 chapters. I would like us to “major in the minors” for a moment this morning by learning a little about the prophet Zephaniah. In spite of its relatively short length, it is nevertheless the inspired Word of God, and therefore has a major message for us, no matter how “minor” it may seem.

Zephaniah was written toward the end of the 7th century B.C., during the reign of King Josiah from 640 to 609 B.C. The first verses provide the setting for the book and introduces the prophetic author. We read in Zephaniah 1:1, “The word of the Lord which came to Zephaniah, the son of Cushi, the son of Gedeliah, the son of Amariah, the son of Hezekiah, in the days of Josiah, the son of Amon, king of Judah.” The prophets usually provide a little “ancestry.com” of their pedigree so you know their historical context. Why is that important? So we understand that even if we are reading a “minor prophet” we are still getting a “major message.”

Josiah was one of the last great “good kings” of the southern kingdom of Judah. Thanks to prophets like Zephaniah (and others) King Josiah implemented reforms in practicing the Jewish religion. Josiah was saying in effect, “Look, Zephaniah may be a minor prophet, but he has a major message for us!” But the people's hearts were too hard, and the catastrophe came in 587 B.C. when the Babylonians destroyed Jerusalem and hauled the people off into the 70-year Babylonian Captivity. The people should have “majored in the minors,” especially in the minor prophets like Zephaniah, and perhaps they would have averted punishment.

My friends, I would suggest to you that mature Christian faith is all about how to “major in the minors.” We typically distinguish mortal and venial sins. But which ones do we put all our attention on? Clearly the mortal sins, the major sins. And that is why many (maybe most) Catholics do not go to confession regularly. They say dismissive things like: “I haven’t killed anyone,” “I haven’t robbed a bank,” “I haven’t committed adultery.” For them only the major mortal sins matter. But that is a very immature faith, spoken like the people in the time of Josiah and Zephaniah.’

Instead, when we examine our conscience, we should “major in the minors” and also take serious stock of our venial sins. One way to do that is by using the standard of the “seven deadly sins” or the “seven capital sins.” I developed a mnemonic device to help me remember them: the first letters of two words, “EGG SLAP” – envy, greed, gluttony, sloth, lust, anger, pride. These vices are sadly dismissed as venial sins, but they start to collect like cholesterol in our arteries, and finally can cause a heart attack and ultimately death. The minor sins eventually grow into major sins that are spiritually fatal. We should examine our conscience and see both mortal and venial sins, major mistakes and minor ones. And then maybe more Catholics would go to confession.

A friend of mine likes to say “if you watch the pennies, the dollars will take care of themselves.” He is a very successful businessman here in Fort Smith, because he knew how to major in the minors. May the “minor prophet” known as Zephaniah help us to do the same, so we can be spiritually successful.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Star Crossed

Seeing miracles as signs of God’s love

12/14/2020

Numbers 24:2-7, 15-17A When Balaam raised his eyes and saw Israel encamped, tribe by tribe, the spirit of God came upon him, and he gave voice to his oracle: The utterance of Balaam, son of Beor, the utterance of a man whose eye is true, The utterance of one who hears what God says, and knows what the Most High knows, Of one who sees what the Almighty sees, enraptured, and with eyes unveiled: How goodly are your tents, O Jacob; your encampments, O Israel! They are like gardens beside a stream, like the cedars planted by the LORD. His wells shall yield free-flowing waters, he shall have the sea within reach; His king shall rise higher, and his royalty shall be exalted. Then Balaam gave voice to his oracle: The utterance of Balaam, son of Beor, the utterance of the man whose eye is true, The utterance of one who hears what God says, and knows what the Most High knows, Of one who sees what the Almighty sees, enraptured, and with eyes unveiled. I see him, though not now; I behold him, though not near: A star shall advance from Jacob, and a staff shall rise from Israel.

A miracle is where man’s search for God meets God’s search for man. In his book, Miracles, C. S. Lewis wrote: “There comes a moment when people who have been dabbling in religion (man’s search for God!) suddenly draw back. Supposing we really found Him? We never meant it to come to that! Worse still, supposing He had found us?” It may sound odd to say God “searches for us.” Doesn’t God see and know everything? Psalm 139:2 reminds us of God’s omniscience: “Lord, you know when I sit and when I stand.”

And yet, there is a kind of hide and seek game that people play when they are falling in love. You want to tell the person you love them, but you are not so sure. You hope they love you, but you are not so sure. So, you send signals and signs of that love – smiles, nervous laughter, notes and gifts – to express that elusive love until the breakthrough moment when one person declares: "I love you!” Worlds collide, life is changed, and history is rewritten. Religion is not so much a “research” as it is a “romance” between us and God. A miracle is the marvelous moment when we both declare, “I love you.” A miracle is when we finally see God’s love and we believe it.

Have you heard about the rare Christmas star that will appear for a week this year? On December 21, 2020 the two largest planets in our solar system, Jupiter and Saturn, will look like a “double planet” for the first time since the Middle Ages, more exactly, since March 4, 1226. According to the legendary German astronomer Johannes Keplar, the “star of Bethlehem” that led the Magi to Jesus on the first Christmas may have been an even more rare alignment of three planets – Jupiter, Saturn and Venus.

My point is not a scientific one but a spiritual one, that is, to see religion more as a “romance” rather than as a “research,” a matter more of the heart and less of the head. God and humanity are literally star-crossed lovers and God sends us subtle signals from our solar system – the alignment of the planets – to tell us he loves us. But those signs do not become truly miracles until we likewise tell him we love him. A miracle is when God’s search for man meets man’s search for God.

Today’s first reading is taken from Number 24, and the unlikely prophesy of the pagan prophet Balaam. The setting for the story is the end of the 40 years wandering of the Israelites in the desert and they are getting close to the Promised Land. First they must cross through Moab, their feared enemy. The Moabite king Balek hires the prophet Balaam to curse Israel so Moab can defeat them in battle. Every time Balaam opens his mouth to utter a curse, however, he ends up pronouncing a beautiful blessing. He does that four times. Balaam’s fourth and final blessing is what we read in Num. 24:17, “A star shall advance from Jacob, and a staff shall rise from Israel.”

I was reading a Catholic scripture commentary on this verse and the scholar said: “It is doubtful whether this passage is to be connected with the ‘star of the Magi’ in Mt. 2:1-12.” I had to smile when I read that. Why? Because that scripture scholar was approaching religion (bible study) more as “research” rather than as a “romance.” Scientists are always suspicious about falling in love because it skews their objectivity and their impartiality. And they are exactly right. Someone who falls in love is no longer impartial because they care deeply; they are not dealing with objectivity but with subjectivity, the deepest part of themselves. Miracles only happen when man’s search for God meets God’s search for man, and we fall hopelessly in love and we believe and trust.

December 14 is the feast day of the great Carmelite doctor and spiritual mystic, St. John of the Cross. St. John saw God’s miracles everywhere because he was madly in love with God. John captured that romance with God in a 31-stanza poem called The Spiritual Canticle. Amazingly, St. John composed his canticle, his love poem, in 1577, while imprisoned by the Carmelites in Toledo, Spain. John saw God’s love for him even in jail. When you fall in love, everything is a miracle, everything reminds you of your lover. John famously said: “In the twilight of our life we will be judged on how much we loved.” That is, if our search for God finally met God’s search for us, and we saw miracles.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Messiah in the Mirror

Learning humility to prepare for Christmas

12/13/2020

John 1:6-8, 19-28 A man named John was sent from God. He came for testimony, to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to testify to the light. And this is the testimony of John. When the Jews from Jerusalem sent priests and Levites to him to ask him, “Who are you?” He admitted, “I am not the Christ.” Some Pharisees were also sent. They asked him, “Why then do you baptize if you are not the Christ or Elijah or the Prophet?” John answered them, “I baptize with water; but there is one among you whom you do not recognize, the one who is coming after me, whose sandal strap I am not worthy to untie.”

Have you ever heard of the “Messiah Complex”? It is a sort of mental delusion in which someone believes they are the Messiah, which is Hebrew for “Anointed One,” or the Savior. When you believe you are the Messiah (Savior) you do not need a Savior to save you. But everyone else does! The Messiah Complex, therefore, has a twofold effect: it makes you think highly of yourself but lowly of others. Archbishop Fulton Sheen joked about how common this complex can be saying: “It used to be that only Catholics believed in the Immaculate Conception. Now, everyone thinks he is immaculately conceived!” That is, everyone thinks they are sinless from conception, perfect, hence a Savior who does not need to be saved.

But the biggest mistake a person with the Messiah Complex makes is they miss the real Messiah when he comes. They are not looking for the Messiah in the world because they see him in the mirror every morning. Mark Wahlberg said in the movie “Mile 22,” “Your ego is not your amigo.” But when our ego IS our amigo, then there is no room in our hearts for Jesus to be our Amigo. When we think we are the Messiah, we will miss the real One when he comes.

In the gospel of John, we see how St. John the Baptist overcame the Messiah Complex in order to prepare the way for the real Messiah, namely, Jesus. We read, “When the Jews from Jerusalem sent priests and Levites to him to ask him, ‘Who are you?’ He admitted, ‘I am not the Christ’.” By the way, the term “Christ” is the Greek translation of the Hebrew word “Messiah,” the Anointed One, the Savior. In other words, the Jewish leaders were ready to bestow the crown of Messiah on John the Baptist’s head; he only had to accept the accolade.

Instead of having his head crowned, however, John had his head cut off by Herod. John said: “There is one among you whose sandal strap I am not worthy to untie.” John did not want his “ego to be his amigo,” rather, he wanted Jesus to be his Amigo. Indeed, only two chapters later in John 3, the Baptist would add these humble lines: “The friend (the amigo) of the bridegroom (that is, Jesus) rejoices greatly at the bridegroom’s voice. He must increase, but I must decrease.” John did not think he saw the Messiah in the mirror, and therefore he did not miss the real One when he arrived.

Folks, if there is one virtue that will help us celebrate Christmas and not miss the Messiah when he comes, it is the virtue of humility. Humility is the quintessential virtue of Advent. For the four weeks of Advent, we try to learn what Mark Wahlberg meant when he said: “Your ego is not your amigo.” Here are a few ways to grow in humility so we do not miss the Messiah when he comes at Christmas.

First, be flexible with this year’s Christmas traditions; this year will not be like past years. Your gifts may not arrive on time if you mailed them. Your Christmas presents may end up being Easter presents. There might not be enough room in the church for you at midnight Mass. You may end up singing Christmas carols by yourself at midnight. Sometimes we want things to go a certain way, which we think is the “right way,” but it is only a thin disguise for wanting things to go “my way.” Humility helps us to see that even when things don’t go “my way,” they are somehow still going “God’s way.” Your ego is not your amigo.

Another suggestion might be to text, call or email a friend or relative with whom you have grown distant lately. That can happen easily during the pandemic and all the social distancing. It can be an easy excuse to avoid people we don’t particularly like. Perhaps you had an argument or a falling out and haven’t spoken to someone in years. Sadly, some people’s problems go on for so long they don’t even remember the original cause of their estrangement. But humility will help you reach out to them first, instead of waiting for them to make the first move. Your ego is not your amigo.

Another idea is to be quick to say “I’m sorry” and equally fast to say “I forgive you” when problems arise and not let them fester. When I was younger, it was always hard to say “I’m sorry,” because I was the one always getting in trouble. As I have gotten older, I often find it is harder to say, “I forgive you,” because now it is my job to forgive others. With the help of humility, we realize we make lots of mistakes too. The Messiah is not in the mirror. We find it easier to forgive and forget. Your ego is not your amigo.

Every year at Christmas our Messiah is born in a manger, to signify his humility and his holiness. Think about that: a manger is really a trough where animals eat hay and so it symbolizes that Jesus will be the Food, the Eucharist, that feeds the whole world. In other words, it was not enough that God should humble himself and become a man; he humbled himself enough to become Bread. The only one who never suffered from the Messiah Complex was the Messiah himself, the only One who could find the Messiah in the mirror.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Against the Odds

Seeing how God prefers to pick the poor

12/12/2020

Rev 11:19a; 12:1-6a, 10ab God’s temple in heaven was opened, and the ark of his covenant could be seen in the temple. A great sign appeared in the sky, a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars. She was with child and wailed aloud in pain as she labored to give birth. Then another sign appeared in the sky; it was a huge red dragon, with seven heads and ten horns, and on its heads were seven diadems. Its tail swept away a third of the stars in the sky and hurled them down to the earth. Then the dragon stood before the woman about to give birth, to devour her child when she gave birth. She gave birth to a son, a male child, destined to rule all the nations with an iron rod. Her child was caught up to God and his throne. The woman herself fled into the desert where she had a place prepared by God. Then I heard a loud voice in heaven say: “Now have salvation and power come, and the Kingdom of our God and the authority of his Anointed.”

Do you like to cheer for the underdog or for the overdog? Americans tend to cheer for the underdog ever since our humble beginnings in the Revolutionary War. The Colonials were clearly the underdogs in their war of independence from Imperial England. But today America can hardly claim the role of underdog; most of the world would look at us as the Imperial Power that dominates the world scene. Still, I believe there is an undying American instinct to cheer for the underdog. Most of the country cheers for whoever plays against Alabama in football, and against the New York Yankees in baseball. Americans love to see an upset. We bet against the odds.

Throughout the bible, God too tends to underwrite the underdog, to champion the poor. This is nowhere clearer than his choice of the Chosen People. The whole history of Israel from Abraham to the Maccabees could be a Netflix series called “Underdog versus Overdog.” That 1800 year history was briefly interrupted for 70 years during the reigns of David and Solomon, when Israel enjoyed being the overdogs for a change. God’s predilection for the poor can be summarized in the adage: “How odd of God to choose the Jews.” God cheers for the underdog as much as we Americans do. God loves to see an upset. He bets against the odds.

Today’s feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe again highlights how odd of God to underwrite the underdog. In Luke 1, the Archangel Gabriel is sent to a lowly maid named Mary, who declares to her that she will be the “Mother of the Most High.” Mary is uncomprehending, but humbly answers: “I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” Now, fast-forward fifteen hundred years to 1531, to the Aztec Empire in central America. This time it is Mary who appears gloriously to another lowly person, a peasant named Juan Diego. She tells him to request the archbishop to build a church on a little hill called Tepeyac. But the bishop is not interested in little people.

Juan Diego returns to Mary and replies: “I beg you to entrust your message to someone more illustrious…for I am only an insignificant man.” In other words, you should pick an overdog for this job, not some underdog like me. Mary could have replied: “Haven’t you studied the history of the Old Testament from Abraham to Maccabees, and don’t you remember what I said to the angel in Luke 1?” But instead, she assured him that God has a penchant for the poor. He loves to see an upset. He always bets against the odds. Juan Diego is perfect for the job.

Today, don’t be surprised if you see lots of signs and symbols of the celebration of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Most churches prominently display large images of Guadalupe. Our parish of Immaculate Conception will conduct a four-mile pilgrimage through Fort Smith, featuring songs, praises, and Aztec dancers. Of course, I volunteered Fr. Daniel to go on the pilgrimage. Masses throughout the Americas – North, Central and South – will be packed with people, and I pray they all stay safe.

But today’s feast is not just for Hispanic Catholics, but for all Catholics, especially American Catholics. Why? Well, because today we cheer for the underdog versus the overdog. How odd of God to choose the Jews in the Old Testament. How God bets against the odds again and again in choosing a peasant girl from Nazareth and a peasant man from Tepeyac. And it should not shock us if God also chooses you and me to do his work. It’s no use giving him the line about us being the underdog.

Pope St. John Paul II declared Our Lady of Guadalupe the Patroness of the Americas. Why? Because she beautifully symbolizes the great contest of the underdog versus the overdog: the Woman clothed with the sun versus the huge Red Dragon described in Revelation 12. The scene looks pretty one-sided and rather hopeless. But we Americans, just like God, love to cheer for the underdog, and bet against the odds.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Dances and Dirges

Finding peace, purpose and possibilities

12/11/2020

Matthew 11:16-19 Jesus said to the crowds: “To what shall I compare this generation? It is like children who sit in marketplaces and call to one another, ‘We played the flute for you, but you did not dance, we sang a dirge but you did not mourn.’ For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they said, ‘He is possessed by a demon.’ The Son of Man came eating and drinking and they said, ‘Look, he is a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.’ But wisdom is vindicated by her works.”

Christians never completely conform to the modern culture, or for that matter, to any culture, modern or ancient. Have you ever felt like you were out of step with others; that you never quite fit in with the crowd? The technical term for that feeling is “countercultural.” Archbishop Fulton Sheen had a colorful description of Christians who are countercultural. He said: “Dead fish float downstream. It takes live fish to fight against the current.” The swift current of the river is the modern culture which carries away most people like dead fish. Christians, on the other hand, should be like salmon that fight the current. Salmon fight the current in order to mate; Christians fight the current in order to meet Christ, our eternal Mate. No wonder I love salmon so much.

Now, do not misunderstand what I mean. Being a countercultural Christian does not mean feeling like a Republican in a room full of Democrats; or a Democrat in a room full of Republicans. Christians would feel uncomfortable with Republicans and Democrats because political parties are part of the swift current of the modern culture. Again, the current carries away the dead fish.

And I am not saying that Christians are called to be hippies, who just don’t fit in. Jesus does not call us to be hippies but to be holy, to be more like him. There lurks a deep disquiet in the Christian’s soul that nowhere on earth does he or she feel entirely at home. St. Paul put the matter perfectly, when he said in Phil. 3:20, “But our citizenship is in heaven.” Only in heaven will we no longer feel countercultural.

In the gospel of Mt. 11:16-19, Jesus describes Christians as being countercultural using the language of "dances and dirges." Our Lord taught: “To what shall I compare this generation (the modern culture)? It is like children who sit in marketplaces and call to one another, ‘We played the flute for you, but you did not dance, we sang a dirge for you but you did not mourn.” And Jesus goes on to add that both he and John the Baptist did not conform to these prevailing cultural customs of dancing and mourning. When the culture zigged, Jesus and John zagged; when the culture zagged, Jesus and John zigged. They did not comply with the dances and dirges that the people played for them. They were live fish who fought against the current.

My friends, what practical, cash-value is there in being countercultural Christians? I believe there are three: it gives us peace, purpose and possibilities. Being countercultural gives us peace, even in a pandemic. Some people are running around like Chicken Little shouting: “The sky is falling!” This pandemic, according to them, portends the end of the world. But Christians should keep our cool and feel profound peace. Why? Well, because we actually long for the end of the world; we pray for “a new heavens and a new earth” (Rev. 21:1). Countercultural Christians feel peace in a pandemic.

Secondly, fighting the current gives us new purpose, that is, a different motivation for why we jump out of bed in the morning. The reason we love our spouse, the goal of raising good children, the purpose of working nine to five is not for my ego or to bring home the bacon, or even to retire early and rich. Those are the reasons that carry the dead fish that float downstream. Countercultural Christians get out of bed to do God’s will rather than our own, and to give God the glory. That is our purpose.

Thirdly, countercultural Christians pursue new possibilities, like being a priest or a nun. What could be more countercultural than that? To willingly – even joyfully – relinquish all money, sex and power and to choose a life of poverty, chastity and obedience is a possibility that is found by live fish that fight against the current. Even Christian marriage is becoming more and more countercultural these days. Christians see possibilities when most people only see problems.

Next time you sit down to eat some salmon, think about how that brave fish plopped on your plate. It had to fight the current. And so, too, must every Christian, but in the bargain, we will find profound peace, new purpose and exciting possibilities.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Conception and Contemplation

Opening ourselves to God’s love like Mary

12/08/2020

Luke 1:26-38 The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a town of Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin’s name was Mary. And coming to her, he said, “Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you.” But she was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. Then the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his Kingdom there will be no end.”

Before I arrived here in Fort Smith, the bishop gave me permission to live with the Carmelite friars in Dallas, Texas, for three months. The Carmelites are famous for contemplative prayer, and that’s what I hoped to learn in those three months. The first step of contemplation is to recognize that prayer is far more about what God does rather than what we do. Prayer is 99 percent God’s grace, and only one percent human effort. And even that meager one percent is possible because God helps us. God must carry us in contemplation like a father carries his little toddler on his shoulder so that the child can see everything better.

Carmelite contemplation also taught me why God gave us two eyes and two ears, but only one mouth. God teaches us contemplation even in the details of how he created us; that is, to look carefully with both eyes, and to listen attentively with both ears, but to speak sparingly with our one mouth. Tragically, most of us do all the talking when we sit down to pray; we try to think of something to say. When God called little Samuel in the Old Testament, the priest Eli instructed him: “When God calls you, say, ‘Speak, Lord, your servant is listening’.” Unfortunately, when we pray, we do the opposite, saying, “Listen, Lord, your servant is speaking!” In contemplation, the creature listens and looks, while the Creator speaks and saves.

Today is the feast of the Immaculate Conception, and I am convinced that this feast shows Mary as the model of contemplation. First, however, let’s be clear whose conception we are celebrating today. It is the conception of Mary in the womb of her mother, St. Anne. The Immaculate Conception, therefore, is not the conception of Jesus, but countless Catholics confuse the two all the time. Don’t be that Catholic. The conception of Jesus is celebrated back on March 25, which is nine months before December 25, when Jesus is born. You know nine months is how long a baby is in the womb of his mother. So, today, December 8, is not the conception of Jesus. Got it? Good.

In the Immaculate Conception, Mary models the perfect posture of prayer, where God does everything, and we watch and wait in awe and amazement. Before Mary had hands and feet, before she had ears and a mouth, a nose and eyes, before she had a tongue to talk with or even words to whisper, God lavished his love on her by creating her. And then he protected her from sin from the first moment of her conception as a single cell. He made her immaculate, sinless. Or, as the angel Gabriel said in the gospel, she was “full of grace.” In other words, God lavished his infinite love for her when Mary did nothing to deserve it. And that is perfect prayer: God tells us he loves us and we listen. Speak, Lord, your servant is listening. The culmination of contemplation is to discover how much God loves us, and Mary discovered God’s infinite love at her conception.

Have you ever noticed how much time and trouble we all go to so other people will love us? We make good grades so that our parents will love us. Boys build their muscles so girls will love them. Girls paint their nails, and their faces and later color their hair, so boys will love them. Grandparents give their grandkids whatever they want so they will love them. Priests tell sill jokes in their sermons so that their parishioners will love them. Why do we do all these things? Because there is a deep, dark doubt in every human heart, where we harbor a secret suspicion: does anyone love me? And we spend the rest of our lives – and the rest of our money – trying to force people to answer that question.

Mary’s conception and Mary’s contemplation can give us a short-cut to answer that question, does anyone love me? If we open our eyes and perk up our ears and close our mouths, we might learn how much God loves us. In our relationship with God, he does 99 percent of the work, and we do one percent, and even that one percent we cannot take any credit for. It is a love that we cannot earn and it is a love that we cannot erase, even when we lose our muscles and our hair and our jokes. That is how Mary’s conception can give us a clue about contemplation.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Ambrose and Augustine

Seeing saintly people as our lasting legacy

12/07/2020

Luke 5:17-26 One day as Jesus was teaching, Pharisees and teachers of the law, who had come from every village of Galilee and Judea and Jerusalem, were sitting there, and the power of the Lord was with him for healing. And some men brought on a stretcher a man who was paralyzed; they were trying to bring him in and set him in his presence. But not finding a way to bring him in because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and lowered him on the stretcher through the tiles into the middle in front of Jesus. When Jesus saw their faith, he said, “As for you, your sins are forgiven.”

I believe a big part of our legacy will be not only what we ourselves accomplish but what we help others to achieve as well. That is, we will be judged not only by what we leave behind but who we leave behind. I have been a priest for 25 years, and a pastor for 23 of those 25 years. In those 23 years as a pastor I have had more associate priests than I can shake a stick at. And I have wanted to shake a stick at a few of them. Most have gone on to be great pastors, and a few have even left the priesthood, I’m sorry to say. But the older I get the more keenly I feel the need to be a good influence on these young men, and mentor them well. Their future is perhaps the best measure of my past.

Today we celebrate the feast of St. Ambrose, the beloved bishop of Milan, Italy. Ambrose was born in about 340 A.D. and died on April 4, 397, only 57 years old. He became bishop of Milan in 374. Perhaps Bishop Ambrose’s greatest priestly protégé was St. Augustine. It was the influence of Ambrose’s holiness and wisdom – together with his mother’s prayers and tears – that moved St. Augustine to convert to Catholicism and be baptized in 387.

Of all the many priests that Ambrose had mentored, none was as renowned as St. Augustine, who himself became a bishop and was declared the “Doctor of Grace” because he insisted God’s grace was primary and our human efforts secondary in our salvation. And Augustine’s convictions about sin and salvation had come in no small part from the pen and lips of Ambrose. If Ambrose’s life is measured by the legacy of who he left behind, he has nothing to worry about.

Let me share a little of how St. Augustine regarded his mentor Ambrose. Augustine is in the position to know Ambrose best. One of the most famous autobiographies ever written was St. Augustine’s Confessions, translated into more languages than any other book, except the Bible itself. The priestly protégé of St. Ambrose wrote glowing about his mentor: “So I came to Milan, to Ambrose, the bishop, a man renowned among the most distinguished people in the world, but who was your devout worshipper. His powers of communication supplied your people promptly with the abundance of your wheat and the gladness of oil and the sober intoxication of wine.” Augustine is referring to Ambrose’s faithful administration of the sacraments when he mentions “wheat, oil and wine.”

The Doctor of Grace continued: “In my state of ignorance you (God) brought me to him, so that once I came to knowledge he could lead me to you.” Finally, he finishes: “That man of God took me up in a fatherly fashion, and like the true bishop he was, delighted in my coming to Milan” (Confessions, IX, 13). St. Augustine was the largest feather in Ambrose’s cap because the future of one’s students is the best measure of a teacher’s past.

My friends, take a moment today to think about the people who have mentored you. Like St. Augustine give God thanks for the holy and wise people who have crossed your path and made you the "spiritual giant" you are today: parents and priests, teachers and coaches, uncles and aunts, grandparents and godparents, authors and actors. If you ever write an autobiography, pay them the same compliment that St. Augustine lavished lovingly on St. Ambrose.

But we should also be aware of our legacy, not only what we leave behind but who we leave behind. Their future will be the best measure of our past. So, today, also pray for your children and grandchildren, your students and players, and all those who come under the sphere of your influence. Like St. Augustine wisely said, it is God who brings them to us, like it was God who brought Augustine to Ambrose. Why? So that we can lead these precious souls back to God, like Ambrose helped Augustine to be baptized and convert to Catholicism. In the end, our life will be judged not by leaving behind great successes, but by leaving behind great saints.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

A Novel Christmas

Seeing how a pandemic cannot prevent the joy of Jesus

12/06/2020

Isaiah 40:1-5, 9-11 Comfort, give comfort to my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her that her service is at an end, her guilt is expiated; indeed, she has received from the hand of the LORD double for all her sins. Go up on to a high mountain, Zion, herald of glad tidings; cry out at the top of your voice, Jerusalem, herald of good news! Like a shepherd he feeds his flock; in his arms he gathers the lambs, carrying them in his bosom, and leading the ewes with care.

Last week I received a funny email from a priest-friend, Fr. William Wewers, pastor in Clarksville. His email put a smile on my face and reminded me of something Pope Francis said recently. In his 2018 apostolic exhortation called “Rejoice and be glad” the smiling pope pointed out: “Far from being timid, or melancholy, or putting on a dreary face, the saints are joyful and full of good humor” (Gaudate et exultate, 122). Let me share some of the good humor Fr. Wewers shared with me in his email, so we can all be saints with a smile today.

The email was a list of short prayers by small children. Joyce said: “Dear God, thank you for my baby brother, but what I prayed for was a puppy.” So, be careful praying for a puppy! Sam prayed: “Dear God, I want to be just like my daddy when I get big, but not with so much hair all over.” Elliott prayed: “Dear God, I think about you sometimes, even when I’m not praying.” By the way, I want to be like Elliott when I grow up, and think about God even when I’m not praying. Nan said: “Dear God, I bet it is very hard for you to love all the people in the world. There are only four people in my family and I can never do it!” I feel Nan’s pain. I hope those prayers put a little smile on your face because as the pope said, “saints are joyful and full of good humor.”

Our first reading is taken from the beginning of the second half of the book of Isaiah, often called “The Book of Comfort.” Why? Well, the first half of Isaiah – chapters 1-39 – is full of doom and gloom, judgment and punishment and suffering for sins. But the second half – chapters 40-66 – is called "The Book of Consolation." That is why Isaiah 40:1 begins with these loving lines: “Comfort, give comfort to my people, says your God.”

How exactly will God comfort his people? We read a little later in verse 9: “Go up on to a high mountain, Zion, herald of glad tidings; cry out at the top of your voice, Jerusalem, herald of good news.” In other words, what makes the glad tidings “glad” and the good news so “good,” is that it is filled with joy, and ultimately, it will be filled with the joy of Jesus who comes at Christmas. The Good News of salvation, therefore, should always put a smile on our face, a little like that email did, because we feel the joy of Jesus.

My friends, may I suggest that this Advent and Christmas seasons we try to keep the joy of Jesus uppermost in our minds? This Christmas will be like no other with the coronavirus still casting a large, dark shadow over the whole world. People are feeling more stress and anxiety than ever. Let me suggest a few ways we can be saints with a smile this Christmas. Last week Fr. Daniel and I heard the confessions of our school children. One priest commented that hearing children’s confessions is like being pelted with popcorn; they are so innocent. After hearing their confessions, I told them: “I am so proud of you for making such good, humble confessions, and God is proud of you, too! We all make mistakes, so just do the best you can every day.” Instead of criticizing them for what they did wrong, I tried to compliment then for what they did right. Confession is supposed to comfort us, and help us to feel the joy of Jesus.

Another suggestion: be flexible and patient with family traditions around the holidays, especially when you have to do things differently. My family could not be together for Thanksgiving, like many of your families. So my brother had two steak dinners delivered to my parents’ home in Little Rock. My parents in turn mailed me overnight home-cooked Indian food. I got the better end of that bargain. My family was not together physically but we were united spiritually in prayer, love and good food. Isn’t that what we experience at every Mass, where the Communion of Saints is not present physically, but they are spiritually, and we share love, prayer and good Food, namely, the Eucharist. This holiday season look at your family traditions through the eyes of faith, and you might get a glimpse of heaven on earth, and taste the joy of Jesus.

A third suggestion: I am a little worried about over-crowding at the Christmas Masses this year, especially with the social distancing requirements. We are always full at midnight Mass – which is normally a wonderful problem to have! But we might have to turn some people away this year, in order to keep everyone safe. It will feel like the first Christmas, when there was no room in the inn! Try not to lose your temper, and keep your peace and your poise, and remember the real reason for the season: the birthday of Christ, who was left out in the cold at Christmas. As you drive home in the dark, maybe you will discover the joy of Jesus in a new way this year.

This year Christmas may look a little different than in years past. But a pandemic cannot prevent us from finding the joy of Jesus, which always remains the reason for the season. The novel coronavirus this year only means we will have a novel Christmas.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Seeing Is Believing

Connecting natural and supernatural eyesight

12/04/2020

Matthew 9:27-31 As Jesus passed by, two blind men followed him, crying out, “Son of David, have pity on us!” When he entered the house, the blind men approached him and Jesus said to them, “Do you believe that I can do this?” “Yes, Lord,” they said to him. Then he touched their eyes and said, “Let it be done for you according to your faith.” And their eyes were opened. Jesus warned them sternly, “See that no one knows about this.” But they went out and spread word of him through all that land.

Many years ago a friend asked me a strange question. Of all of my five sense, which one could I not live without? That is, which sense would I be willing to sacrifice, if I had to lose one: sight, smell, taste, touch or hearing? For me, hands down, my favorite sense is sight, the ability to see. Which sense would you not want to sacrifice? During this pandemic, some people affected by the COVID-19 virus have temporarily lost their sense of taste and smell. I think it would have been far worse if the virus had caused temporary blindness.

Seeing, though, is not only a natural sense, it is intimately connected with a spiritual sense, that is, our desire to see God. Seeing is also a supernatural sense. All the joy we find in seeing a beautiful sunset, sharing pictures of our grandchildren, gazing into the eyes of the one we love, eating a cheesecake with my eyes before I eat it with my fork, is all oriented toward and a glimpse of the ultimate seeing, namely, seeing God. We see a little of the Creator in all of his creation.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church calls this the “Beatific Vision.” We read in no. 1028: “Because of his transcendence, God cannot be seen as he is, unless he himself opens up his mystery to man’s immediate contemplation and gives him the capacity for it.” The Catechism continues: “The Church calls this contemplation of God in his heavenly glory ‘the beatific vision.’” As you can probably guess, the word “beatific” means “blessed.” That is, God is the blessed vision, he is blessed in himself. But when we see him in heaven, we, too, become blessed. This is why I never want to lose my sense of sight, neither my natural sight not my supernatural sight called faith. The two work in tandem.

In the gospel today we should not be shocked to see two men who ask Jesus to restore their sight. They were blind and begged Jesus: “Son of David, have pity on us!” They don’t even attempt to articulate what they want because it is so obvious that all people desire to see. But notice how Jesus connects their natural sense of seeing to their supernatural sense of seeing, namely, faith. He says: “Let it be done for you according to your faith.” In other words, yes the human capacity to open our eyes and behold the beauty of the world is a great gift.

But there is a far greater gift, a greater sort of seeing, called faith. That spiritual seeing will lead you to the goal of all seeing, namely, the Beatific Vision, to see God. In explaining the ecstasy of the Beatific Vision, St. Thomas Aquinas quoted 1 Cor. 13:12: “Now, we see darkly as in a mirror, then we shall see face to face.” In other words, seeing God face to face is the Beatific Vision, and that is why I never want to lose my sense of sight.

Today is the feast of St. John Damascene. A few weeks ago, I texted Fr. Andrew Hart to ask him who was the last great Church Father? He immediately texted back, “St. John Damascene in the 8th century.” You can look things up in “Wikipedia” or you can text “Fr. Andrewpedia.” St. John Damascene was also known for his encyclopedic knowledge, being well versed in algebra, geometry, music, astronomy and of course theology. But St. John also lived during the “iconoclasm controversy.” That was when many people promoted the removal of sacred images from churches and public places: no statues, no stained glass, etc.

St. John Damascene fought fiercely in defense of religious images because he believed they helped us to see spiritually. Just as Jesus healed the two blind men in the gospel, and ultimately helped them to see with the eyes of faith, so statues, rosaries, candles, etc. help us to see naturally as well as supernaturally. St. John Damascene’s teaching was defended and defined at the great Seventh Ecumenical Council, the Second Council of Nicaea in 787. Perhaps St. John, too, would have sacrificed his other senses before giving up his sight.

I cannot wait for this pandemic to be over so we can come to Mass without masks. Why is that so important? Well, because then we will be able to see each other’s full faces, eyes as well as smiles. So we can see each other face to face. That, too, is a glimpse of God, until we get to see God himself face to face in the Beatific Vision in heaven.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

Man and Manna

Sharing in God’s desire to feed each other

12/02/2020

Matthew 15:29-37 At that time: Jesus walked by the Sea of Galilee, went up on the mountain, and sat down there. Jesus summoned his disciples and said, “My heart is moved with pity for the crowd, for they have been with me now for three days and have nothing to eat. I do not want to send them away hungry, for fear they may collapse on the way.” The disciples said to him, “Where could we ever get enough bread in this deserted place to satisfy such a crowd?” Jesus said to them, “How many loaves do you have?” “Seven,” they replied, “and a few fish.” He ordered the crowd to sit down on the ground. Then he took the seven loaves and the fish, gave thanks, broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, who in turn gave them to the crowds. They all ate and were satisfied. They picked up the fragments left over–seven baskets full.

One of the most fundamental human activities is feeding each other. That is what made this past Thanksgiving so strange and so sad. We could not gather around the table and feed each other. Let me hit a few highlights of how we feed each other from birth to death. Mothers should breast feed their babies within an hour after their baby is born. Doctors universally agree about the health benefits of breast feeding for baby as well as for mother. Later in life, mothers make lunches for their children before school. I know one mom who loves to pack lunches for her children and hides little notes in their lunch box to inspire and encourage them. She writes: “Mommy loves you!” “You will be great today!” And “Eat all your vegetables!”

My favorite part of every wedding – and frequently a funny part – is when the couple feed each other with a small piece of wedding cake. Feeding each other with cake is a symbolic gesture of how they will feed each other – take care of each other – for the rest of their lives. I am deeply grateful to Fr. Daniel during my quarantine who brought three meals to my room every day, and at 4 p.m. every day brought me coffee and a cookie. When someone is dying in a hospital you are required by law to feed them, called nutrition and hydration. In other words, from the first hour of life until we take our last breath, the most fundamental fact of human life is feeding each other. Feeding signifies love, intimacy, and caring.

Our scripture readings today tell us feeding each other is not only profoundly human, it is positively divine. That is, we imitate God when we serve each other supper. Isaiah 25:6 says: “On this mountain the Lord of hosts will provide for all peoples a feast of rich food and choice wines.” In the gospel of Matthew 15:32, Jesus says: “My heart is moved with pity for the crowd, for they have been with me now for three days and have nothing to eat.” Like the mother breast feeding her baby, like the wedding couple putting wedding cake in each other’s mouths, like Fr. Daniel bringing me coffee and a cookie at 4 p.m., so God the Father and God the Son deeply desire to feed us.

And lest you think Isaiah 25 and Matthew 15 are isolated instances, let me point out how feeding punctuates the bible from beginning to end. Genesis 1:29 tells us how God will feed Adam and Eve: “God also said: See I give you every seed bearing plant on all the earth and every tree that has seed-bearing fruit on it to be your food.” Apparently, God expected us to be vegetarians! Just kidding. He also commanded us to eat lamb in Exodus 12. The famous Psalm 23 about the Good Shepherd promises: “You set a table before me in front of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil, my cup overflows.” And the last book of the bible (Revelation) leaves us with little doubt about how God wants to feed us, indeed it looks a lot like a couple on their wedding day putting a piece of wedding cake in each other’s mouth. In Revelation 19:9, John writes: “Blessed are those who have been called to the wedding feast of the Lamb.” In other words, feeding each other is not only an earthly activity, from birth to death, but feeding is the fundamental activity of eternity. God will feed us forever in heaven.

With all this background – what we do in feeding each other, and how God feeds us – we can appreciate why the Mass is a meal. Have you ever wondered why the most sublime and spiritual activity for Christians involves something as earthy as eating? Consuming Holy Communion requires you to munch and chew, and even the way the priest purifies the sacred vessels demands he consume the water he uses to cleanse the cup. I hate to admit this but sometimes I have to burp. Mother Church has to burp her babies after she feeds us with the milk from her abundant breasts (cf. Is. 66:11). Why should our highest and holiest form of worship be something so bodily as eating and drinking? Because Jesus came down from heaven not only to be a man, but to be manna, that is, to be bread. He came not only to save our souls but also our sarx (that is Greek for "flesh"). Jesus came to save our body and soul, and that is why the Mass is a meal and not just a bible study.

In the fourth petition of the Our Father, the Lord’s Prayer, we ask: “Give us this day our daily bread.” God answers that prayer when he gives us his Son as the Bread of Holy Communion. God sends his Son to earth at every Mass, not only to become a Man, but to become Manna. The most fundamental human activity is feeding each other.

Praised be Jesus Christ!