Ordinary Time 3

Nehemiah 8, 2-4, 5-6, 8-10 + Psalm 19 + 1 Corinthians 12, 12-14, 27 + Luke 1, 1-4; 4, 14-21

January 24, 2016 at Saint Peter the Apostle Parish in Naples, FL.

“Today” is an important word in Luke’s Gospel. He uses it 11 times, and one of those occasions we have already heard in the second chapter with an announcement by angels: “Today is born a savior.” Today is where it’s all happening in Luke’s Gospel from the song of angels through the healing of bodies and souls, on to the betrayal by friends and then his last forgiving moments on the cross when he says: “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” The Gospel, not just Luke’s, is not about the good old days when Jesus was actually preaching in synagogues. Neither is the Gospel about tomorrow or some time way off in the future when eventually things will be good. Those words were spoken for those people to understand who he was and why. The Gospel is about today. As Jesus fulfilled his mission so clearly spoken in that synagogue, things were happening right then. When he saw someone blind or deaf he didn’t say we’ll take care of that tomorrow. When he met someone who was sick he never told them they would get better eventually. When he spoke to that man who came down through the roof, he said: “Your sins are forgiven.” He didn’t say “tomorrow”, or “after you’ve done enough penance”. It happened then.

A busy world and busy people making it so usually find this whole idea of “today” a little challenging. Who wants one more thing to do today when more will probably be left undone at the end of the day than was actually accomplished?  I suspect that those people sitting in that synagogue were doing just fine with Jesus until he sat down and said that word, “Today.” Until that moment, they must have been amazed at how well he read, at how comfortable he was in the synagogue among them. Then suddenly the mood changes with that one word. They were quite used to having the scriptures comfort them and talk about the days to come when things would be great for them again off in the future. They liked it when the preacher told them about how loveable they were in God’s eyes and when the teaching shored up their self-satisfaction. They liked hearing about what God was going to do for them, but then he said that word. He was promising things for others: the poor, the blind, the captives, and the oppressed!

“What about us?” they surely must have been thinking, and the more they listened, the more they got the point. There were no poor, blind, or captives in that synagogue any more than there are poor, blind, and captives here. This message did not offer them anything except a challenge. It was not about them, in fact, it was for them that he said these things. These words were spoken for those people to understand who he was and why he was there. He had no good news for them unless they wanted to confess that they were impoverished, blind, bound, and oppressed. The truth of the matter is, they were all of those things, but they could not admit it. They wanted to be told how good they were, not have someone suggest what they should be doing that day.

The same thing is happening here. We are not poor, blind, captive or oppressed. This Gospel does not offer us any great comfort or pat us on the back nearly as much as it expresses who we are and what we should be doing today. As Paul’s Epistle to the Corinthians says:  “Now you are Christ’s body.” If that is true, then there is no doubt about what we are to do with our lives, and what we are to do today. As Paul suggests, there are no excuses. There’s no putting it off till tomorrow or till we finish what we’re doing later today. There’s no opting out because we’re too old, too tired, or too sick. It is all about what we are doing today.

We are a people who have been anointed with the Holy Spirit no less than Jesus himself. The power, the grace, the gifts of our Baptism and Confirmation make it unmistakable that we are sent to relieve the suffering of the poor and give them some Joy. We are sent to give the blind a vision of the Kingdom of God letting them see the face of God by our merciful presence. We are sent to free those who are held captive by refusal to forgive and release them with mercy. This is to happen today, not tomorrow. If you choose to receive the Body of Christ today and become one with Christ in Communion, then there is no doubt about what you are to do today. The truth of the matter is, the world has its eyes fixed upon us watching and waiting to see if this Scripture passage is fulfilled.

Ordinary Time 2

Isaiah 62, 1-5 – Psalm 96 – 1 Corinthians 12, 4-11 – John 2, 1-11

January 17, 2016 at Saint Peter the Apostle Parish in Naples, FL.

I am of the opinion that we ought to read this Gospel backwards, or at least move the last verse up to the beginning, then we can avoid all the romantic, sentimental, and overtly devotional conclusions that are always being drawn from this episode. John’s Gospel is a lot of things: dramatic, complex, unique, and long, but it is not sentimental or romantic. This story is not about Cana. There is not one reference to that place ever again. The location is unimportant. It is not about the Blessed Mother as much as we might make something of her intervention and the fact that she is present. It is not about weddings or brides and grooms. It is about wine and water when you are ready to explore a sign, and right away that should turn our attention to this table feast. John tells us that it is about revealed glory, and it is a sign, the first of several that make up John’s Gospel and lead people to believe.

As the verses go, something has run out. It is finished, and that’s the point. The old way of doing things is over. With the coming of Christ, the presence of Jesus, something new is at hand, and that is the sign John is putting before us. There are six water jars. That detail is part of the message. Seven is the number of fulfillment or completeness, but here, there are only six. It carries a sense of incompleteness. The old order, the old Law of Moses was not enough. What comes now is the law of Love and the Spirit. A seventh vessel is needed to complete the plan of God, and that vessel is Christ from whom water will flow at the end.

These symbols have to connect if the genius of John’s Gospel message is going to be passed on to us. John begins the episode by saying that “It is the third day”. How could anyone miss the Easter suggestion when the hour finally comes to reveal the glory on the third day, Easter?  This is the “hour” that enters that dialogue with Mary. Some are stunned by the way he addresses her as “woman”, but that word itself should jump us right to the foot of the cross when again he calls her “woman” commending her to John.

Apparently, what happens with the water jars is unknown to everyone but the disciples. They see his glory, or least the beginning of it, and it brings them to believe which is the purpose of the sign: belief!  For those of us who know the end of John’s Gospel, all of these images and these signs begin to come together. It starts here with a feast, and the most constant image Jesus uses for the Reign of God is a banquet feast. It starts here with a wedding, and John is fascinated with the image of Christ the Bride Groom and the church as a bride. It is a significant image in the Book of Revelation with the “Wedding of the Lamb” and all its glory as the last and finest moment of time.

So today as we begin “Ordinary Time, we can see that these Sundays will lead us deep into the Pascal mystery of the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Christ. It is then that his “hour” will have come, at the Supper Feast when wine again is the focus of the message. In the new age, in this new creation, wine will not run out. His sacrifice will be enough for our salvation. The mission of Jesus Christ to reveal in his glory the truth and the presence of God begins here at this feast. The abundance of this excellent wine, by measure today probably about 120 gallons speaks of the superabundant generosity of God that is now, in Jesus, to be revealed. If you have not seen God’s generosity in your lifetime, then there is no reason to believe, but if you have then there is reason to wonder and to ask if anyone has come to faith because of what they see in your life. This gives us reason enough to repeat this story once again as a reminder both of God’s inexhaustible mercy and of how that glory is reflected in the church and in each of our lives.

The Baptism of the Lord

Isaiah 40, 1-5, 9-11 + Psalm 104 + Titus 2, 11-14 3, 4-7 + Luke 3, 15-16, 21-22

January 10, 2016 at Saint Peter the Apostle Parish in Naples, FL. & MS Eurodam

It is a true story that I think we all know, but there is a detail about it that may have slipped your mind. I think that detail is essential for anyone who wants to enter into the event and experience we remember today as a church.

Annie Sullivan is partially blind and she has taught a seven year old blind and deaf student finger spelling during the four months they have been working together trying to break through and connect this child with some reality. One day they were passing a water pump, and Annie Sullivan placed the child’s hand under the running water and pressed into it the word: W-A-T-E-R. From that moment, Helen Keller became a new person who would eventually amaze and inspire so many through her work for people with disabilities, especially the visually impaired.

The story is real, and so is the experience. It is about water. The powerful story of someone isolated, alone, closed off and frightened awakening to a new life is the story of Baptism. It is the experience of knowing who you are in relation to another and to all creation. For Hellen Keller there is suddenly a new relationship with Annie Sullivan that quickly leads to a new relationship with all creation. It is the story we tell today of Jesus Christ who emerges from the desert where he was alone, isolated, and I think perhaps frightened. His experience with the evil one who tempts him had to have been frightening. Then suddenly there is water, and he is not alone. He knows who he is, and his relationship with John the Baptist and everyone else comes into focus.

It’s about water, and it is about what water has done for us. We are not a people who were baptized. We are a people who are baptized. We are called into connections between the reality of our world and the water of baptism. We are called into connections with the one who touches us with water, not a priest or a deacon, but with the one in whose place they stand. The isolation, the loneliness, the emptiness, even the silence of the past collapses into awareness, excitement, discovery, and ultimately joy.

There is no past tense in talking about Baptism. It is a present and living reality. It is an experience that is on-going. You are a lot more baptized today than you were on the day of your baptism. The same thing is true of marriage. You are lot more married today than you were on that wedding day; and I am a lot more priest than I was in 1968 when Bishop Reed put his hands on my head and anointed my hands.

Celebrating the Baptism of Christ leads us to awaken to the reality of our own Baptism. Touching that water when you step into this holy place awakens you and connects you to the others who have stepped in before you, and all those who are connected with us in the Communion of Saints.

A people living their baptism are a people connected to God all through every day and every night. A people living their baptism are a people connected to everyone else who is coming to life just as Jesus found his connection with the blind, the lame, the deaf, the sinners, and the lonely. A people who are baptized are a people who know who they are what their mission in life is set to be. They never forget that they are children of God who claims them as God’s own and loves them.

To this good news of solidarity and healing oneness, Luke adds the significance of prayer. Notice that Luke does not provide any details about the baptism event, but rather its aftermath. Jesus prays. It is his prayer that tears open the heavens for the decent of the Holy Spirit and his true identity by the Father’s voice that acclaims him as the beloved Son on whom favor rests. The details of our own baptism make for family lore, but they are of little importance until we awaken to the sound of God’s voice in prayer. Then we shall know, believe, and act like the chosen ones we are upon whom so much favor rests, and then we shall know what to do with this great gift.

Epiphany of the Lord

Isaiah 60, 1-6 – Psalm 72 – Ephesians 3, 2-6 – Matthew 2, 1-12

January 3, 2016 at Saint Peter the Apostle Parish in Naples, FL. & MS Eurodam

This is perhaps the greatest episode in all the Gospels. It makes this the feast of seekers, of wanderers, and wonderers. It speaks to everyone who will not give way to comfortable indifference. It is the story of good over evil, and of the clever outwitting hypocrisy and political intrigue. It comes upon us at a time when we need to be drawn out of consumerism, credit card bills, all the shallowness of “Seasons Greetings”, and festivities of a New Year that may not be much different from the old one. It is a story and feast that leads us back to love and to wisdom.

While these wise men may have questionable historical roots, they still thrill our imaginations and make us wonder about their visit to this child. Their names do not come to us until an 8^th century monk names them. They do not become multi-racial for another 8 centuries. None the less, we accept their story laden with symbols and rich theological associations, and a story is often the surest and straight line to the truth. Wonder and excitement are important for every one of us, and their story teaches us some valuable lessons.

Searching for the truth can lead you in to a political minefield. The powerful of this world are always threatened by the truth and by simplicity which always reveals what they would prefer to hide. “Yes men” like the men Herod consults will say anything to stay in favor and avoid the truth. It also reminds us that we are not self-sufficient, and we all need help on our search needing discernment to know right from wrong, a lie from the truth, and light from darkness. At the same time the story teaches us that every nation, every race, every culture seeks the light, and in Christ all will come together. It teaches us that every culture and perhaps every religion has some gift to offer God, and we would be wise to never refuse the gifts of strangers. A multi-cultural society and church bears witness to the inclusiveness we shall later see in Christ’s intent in his mission.

In the end, I suppose, this is all about gifts more than magical wise men. It is about one gift given to us richer and more valuable than gold, frankincense or myrrh: the gift of our love. In a stunning short story by O. Henry called “Gift of the Magi” Jim and Della, husband and wife, decide to give each other special Christmas presents. They are poor, but each has a prized possession. Della’s is her lovely long hair; Jim’s is his pocket watch. Della cuts her hair and sells it in order to buy Jim a platinum chain for his watch. Jim sells his watch so that he can buy a set of pure tortoiseshell combs for Della’s hair. Then comes the moment of “epiphany.” The revelation of the love behind both of their sacrifices that is the most precious gift. He ends the story with the affirmation of the loving wisdom of Jim and Della as gift givers. Matthew proposes to us today that it is often the stranger or outsider who can reveal to us, as individuals and as nations, how and what we should be seeking and how to come home to this truth.

Mary, Mother of God

Number 6, 22-27 X Psalm 67 X Galatians 4, 4-7 X Luke 2, 16-21

January 1, 2016 at Saint Peter the Apostle Parish in Naples, FL.

Of all the feasts of Mary, this is the oldest celebrated by the church long before any of the others, and it is the source of everything we know and believe about this woman so favored and blessed by God. What Luke tells us about her provides a clear look at the response of anyone who becomes aware of God’s action in their lives and conscious of the great privilege it is to bear and give flesh to the Word of God. We come here today because we too are aware of God’s action in our lives; aware of the gifts we have, of the faith we share, and the hope that faith has nurtured in our hearts. Clearly we are favored by God and blessed. We live in this beautiful place, in an earthly garden safer than most from the danger and fears that chase too many of God’s children from their homes and loved ones. We are blessed with another year of life and the time to give thanks for the year that has passed.

As Mary continues now in a concrete way to live her calling as Mother of God’s Son, she does so in the context of her place in time and culture. She passes on to her son the tradition of her Jewish faith, and she fulfills what was asked of her by naming him “Jesus” which means, “One Who Saves”. Already in the circumstance of her birthing, there is a hint that all may not always be well, that homelessness, confusion, and anxiety will be part of life. The first visitors she seems to have are not loving, adoring, caring family members, but strangers from the fields, hired hands who come with no gifts and speak of things she may not understand. It is an odd sort of beginning for this mother who already knows that nothing will be ordinary or normal about her life any more.

Her response to all of this, says Luke, is to ponder. There is no complaint, no refusal, no whining, blaming, or attempts to run. She just ponders. It is the second time she does this in Luke’s Gospel, so it must be important, and it will not be the last because it is the best posture and the best response for anyone confronted with the unexpected Will of God. It will be a life-time of pondering for her, a life-time full of reflective silence during which she treasures the good news about Jesus in spite of messages that are often contrary to what she knows by faith.

For us it must be the same this year if not before; a year of pondering, a year that allows for more time of reflective silence in which we can treasure what we heard, what we have seen, and what we are called to become.

1 Samuel 1, 20-28 X Psalm 128 X 1 John 3, 1-24 X Luke 2, 41-52

December 27, 2015 at Saint Peter the Apostle Parish in Naples, FL.

 It was 1893. The industrial revolution a generation earlier had begun to affect family life as it was known then, and the consequent changes in morality were an increasing threat to family life. In response to this Pope Leo XIII established this feast to be celebrated shortly after Easter. While it has moved around in the Church’s calendar since then, it has become more and more widely celebrated on the Sunday after Christmas.

Today “family” has many cultural and moral connotations and challenges for us. We are now living in an age of blended families, single parent families, and even “same-sex” families. We live in an age when child abuse, pornography, and the internet reach into families disrupting and destroying family relations. As a result, the whole idea of The Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph might seem to exist on another planet or be light years away from our 21^st century experience. Yet, the Gospel truth we proclaim insists that the family, no matter how it is defined still is the primary school of deeper humanity penetrated by the spirit of Christ. It is a big challenge to live in mutual respect and love; for parents to honor the dignity of their children, and for children to respect the dignity of their parents, each one bound to the other in the love that God has lavished upon us, as John writes in the second reading today.

This familiar story from Luke’s Gospel provides a clue to understanding something that is essential to every human and every family relationship. The clue is found in the description of what Jesus is doing in the Temple. It is easy to miss because too many artists and story tellers have presented us with a precocious child Jesus haloed and white robed lecturing the religious teachers. What Luke actually says is that he was listening and asking questions which is what always leads to understanding. He was not talking, lecturing, correcting, or nagging. He was listening. With a little more good listening in our lives, things could be a lot more agreeable and peaceful. It is an art too rarely practiced in the noise of this age; but it is an essential skill for growing in Holiness.

While the feast and the age in which we live encourages us to look at family life in a personal and somewhat limited or narrow way, there is a larger family for us to consider as well: the Human Family which suffers just as great a challenge as our personal families. There is not enough listening to cries of the poor and refugees. There is not enough listening to those who seem different from us. If there was more, they might not seem so different.

Within the family, we find our identity. Adolescence is the search for and the gradual finding of one’s identity, which suggests that we might wonder what defines that identity. Is it family ties, culture, religious experience, a sense of vocation, a personal creed, or one’s dreams and ideals? Maybe all of them, but what we discover in the Gospel is that Jesus found his identity by affirming his relationship with God. Perhaps that might be a starting point for all of us.

For Mary and Joseph, as for all of you who have accepted the vocation of parenting, there comes a lot of pain in allowing your children independence, allowing them their identity, loving them and not possessing or punishing them when not fully understanding them. What better gift can any of us give for the building up of all family life and the whole human family than the gift of simply listening which in every age and culture is grace that will bear fruit in understanding and peace.

Isaiah 9, 1-6 X Psalm 96 X Titus 2, 11-14 X Luke 2, 1-14

December 24, 2015 at Saint Peter the Apostle Parish in Naples, FL.

Sooner better than later each of us ought to stand in front of a Nativity scene like this one and ask a couple of questions. They are important questions that might seem rude, ungrateful or disrespectful. None the less they are questions that will lead us past what we see and deeper into the profound wonder of what we are celebrating here. If we do not ask these questions and begin to consider the answers we are no different from non-believers or like beginners in the ways of faith who just look and wonder: “Is that all there is?” The world in which we live answers “Yes” to that question, and by Monday morning the shelves in every store in this country will be cleared off cleaned up and set up for Valentine’s Day; because for them that’s all there is. For real believers however, the answer is “No” at which point the second question forms: “Then what does this mean?”

Theologians would respond like scientists telling us that this is about the “Incarnation” and then tell us more than we might need or want to know about two natures undivided in one person which sounded more like an algebra problem when I was really young. In the end, all of that, true as it is, does not answer the question: “What does this mean?” The richest tradition of our faith and our church says that what this means is that God has started creation over again, and using the Biblical figures of Genesis, there is a new Adam and a new Eve, and a new creation free of the past, free of sin and its consequence, the loss of God’s immediate presence. Adam, you know, was God’s favorite, the favorite of all that was created. There was Eve, bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh. They were as united as anything in creation could ever be. They enjoyed an intimacy with God that we can only imagine and desire. Adam and Eve had a freedom we can only envy.  Without a worry in the world or any need, they were free. After all, God had made Adam in God’s own image. Yet they traded all of that for their own will rather than for the will of God, and they said, “No” to God.

In the restart of creation we are celebrating, the new Eve says, “Yes” and the new Adam chooses to be obedient to the will of God. With that, everything changes. A God who was distant and frightening is called, “Father”. A God hidden in a cloud and a pillar of fire has reappeared in the flesh and blood of human life. An angry, punishing God that really looks more like angry violent people is replaced by a Merciful, Loving God who’s Mercy and Love endures forever. After their fall from grace, God asks Adam and Eve what they are afraid of. Now in the new creation fear is gone. Lions and lambs can lie together as one of the prophets envisions. There is no fear, no fear of God, no fear of being alone which is at the bottom of all the fears that haunt the lives of those who never ask the question, “What does this mean?”

So while we might gaze upon this scene and think about our God coming to be one of us, we must go further because the birth of God’s Son is not all there is. The Incarnation involves our humanity. The human nature we have inherited is not human nature as it was before the incarnation. In answer to the second question about what this means, we find that redeemed humanity shares the very life of God. All human life now has been raised to new heights, lifted up to the divine. We call that “grace.” After all, what is “grace” except the nearness of God?  This feast then is not just about God choosing to be with us, or about Mary and Joseph, shepherds, sheep and angles. This feast is also about us. It proclaims that we are with God. This is the starting point of our return home to Paradise.

We cannot forget that Christ’s birth, and every biblical event, is linked to the past, the present, and the future. The past is about Bethlehem. The present is about tonight in Naples, Florida; and about how we work with Christ to rebuild the world for the glory of the Father. We are not passive bystanders staring at a Nativity scene. What happened in the past radically transforms the history of the world and the personal history of each one of us. Because of it, each of us must measure up to God’s plan and play our proper role in it, and that is the future. No longer can we excuse our failures and our sins with a shrug and the comment: “I’m only human after all.” There is no “only human” anymore. Being human is no longer an excuse for being less than we have been called to be. Being human now is being the best of God’s work, the highest and most perfect of all creation. Being human now means more than ever before that we are reborn into the image and likeness of God.

This afternoon, I am standing here looking at grace, at beauty, at the face of God. I see people redeemed, made holy, living in Holy Communion with God through a sacrament we shall share at this altar a few moments. Blessed are you, people of God. Holy are you, faithful ones who live in the covenant that began in Bethlehem. Joyful are you when you do not forget how God has loved you enough to share your life, even to the point of death. Because of this truth, we can never say it often enough and believe it firmly enough. God is good!

Saint Peter the Apostle Parish in Naples, FL.

Micah 5, 1-4 + Psalm 80 + Hebrews 10, 5-10 + Luke 1, 39-45

Everything about Jesus Christ from who he was as the son of a carpenter born in Bethlehem and raised in Nazareth, to what he did and what he said turned the ideas, the customs, and the beliefs of this world upside down. To enter into a relationship with him even today means that the same thing will happen. God has shown no interest in power, influence or great wealth. God has not as yet shown much interest in what is big or important by our judgments either. Great and powerful Rome, beautiful and wealthy Jerusalem, Kings, High Priests, Caesars and Tetrarchs were of no interest and no use to God. For all their glory, they are nothing today but ruins, piles of stone stared at and photographed from the windows of tour buses driving by. God is not there and never as.

Those who seek God are likely have more success finding him at the foot of a cross, in a homeless shelter or in a nursing home where a widow sits and waits for someone who does not come. Those who seek God might try looking among hungry frightened children homeless because of some senseless war, or among single mothers or fathers in line for food stamps after cleaning rooms at some fine resort hotel. We will soon tell the story of wise men who made the mistake of looking for God in fine Jerusalem at the powerful elegant court of King Herod. It is the first hint that something is changing, and God has a different plan.

God’s plan begins with a single mother and continues in a little town that amounts to nothing. God’s message is announced first to laborers in fields we call shepherds. They just as well be farm workers picking tomatoes or chopping cotton. God’s plan makes the first family homeless refugees fleeing the violence that kills children. God’s plan is finally put into action by a bunch of not very smart and not very dependable fishermen with a tax collector thrown in besides. God’s plan is announced in Galilee, and of all places, Samaria long before it gets to Jerusalem or Rome. God’s plan gathers in the sick, prostitutes, the blind, the lame, the mentally ill or “possessed” (as they called them in those days), the lepers, women, and even the dead. There is no exclusion, no privilege, or special people in God’s plan.

In the story of salvation, the beginning of which we celebrate on Friday, it starts small with a child entrusted to a young girl and courageous young man in a tiny little place that meant nothing to the big and powerful of this world. When that young girl began to realize what was happening, she ran to an old lady who had been barren to share that news, and together they rejoiced in their discovery of God’s odd and strange plan. The Messiah was entrusted to the most vulnerable of people in the most vulnerable of ways so that God’s glory, God’s love, and God’s salvation would not overwhelm us, but accompany us in our weakness, our smallness, and powerlessness in order to teach us the value of every human life.

For some it might seem like a crazy plan doomed to failure, but it is how God chose to come. Please note that God chose this plan. It was not forced upon God. Coming to grips with this plan suggests that going for the biggest package under the tree is a signal that the plan is either not understood nor not welcome. Born as a little one, Christ embraces all the little people of this world, and the littleness in us that sometimes haunts our days and nights. Vulnerable and helpless, God embraces and shares our helplessness and vulnerability. No one is too small, too poor, too helpless, or too insignificant to escape the presence and the company of God in Jesus Christ. No one who is misunderstood, betrayed by friends, or who suffers too much pain is outside the embrace of God.

This, my dear friends, is the message we share through the story we shall tell once again this week. Anticipating that great and holy day, we ought to say again and again the final words of the New Testament: Maranatha. Come, Lord Jesus.

Zephaniah 3, 14-18 X Psalm 122 X Philemon 4, 4-7 X Luke 3, 10-18  at Saint Peter the Apostle Parish in Naples, FL.

“What must we do?” ask the people who hear the prophet. All too often the question as we might ask it ourselves refers too exclusively to practices that we hope will be sure ways of reaching eternal life. No matter who asks the question of John his answer is simple: “Be just in the work you do. Live as you should, being righteous and conscious of the needs of others.” The problem if you stop there is that religion gets reduced to a moral code, a kind of system whereby we bargain our way into this Kingdom that is at hand. With that we start measuring whether or not we have done enough, and it’s not long before what we do is the focus of everything without a thought about what God has done or what God is doing. There is not much joy in that kind of religion. There is not much joy in a religion of rules and obligations centered on what we must do. No wonder so many young people want nothing to do with it.

Religion does not make us more popular, better paid, or better looking. It never stops loved ones from dying or friends from giving you up like a bad job. In itself, religion solves nothing and leaves the world exactly as it was before. Some think that it even makes the world more violent given the history of religious wars over the centuries of human life. At its best religion provides a context in which to locate and understand things that happen, but even this might induce a kind of resignation that leads to passivity and tempts us to give up rather than find and feel the joy that is spoken of and sung of all through this day. The tradition in which we live suggests over and over that there is happiness and joy to be found in following Christ Jesus. It proposes that this is found in two ways.

The first way this joy is found comes from a relationship, from the personal presence of Jesus Christ in our lives. At this point, religion is no longer a matter of what we do, but of why we do it: because we love someone. This kind of religion is a relationship with Jesus Christ lived and celebrated bringing joy because the life of God is the most complete joy imaginable. Someone you love and someone who loves you is with you forever. It brings a smile to your face, lightens your heart, lifts up your whole day, and it changes how you see things and what you do. This presence is secret and mystical. It is discovered only in prayer, in the intimacy of communion and the deepest part of your heart. There is not likely to be much joy in the practice of religion unless we cultivate this side of things which means reading and re-reading the Gospels, studying how Jesus is portrayed in sacred art, and above all by starting to pray. No amount of information about someone can substitute for getting involved in a conversation with them.

The second way this joy is found comes from looking to the future. Christ may be in our midst, but the world still knows just as much pain and fear as in the days when John was preaching. But in our faith we look forward to a time when human life and the whole of creation will be perfected, to a time of universal healing, reconciliation, and peace. This expectation leads us to a shared joy, an extension of Christ’s on joy to all. If joy is real, it is something that must be shared, because it is as much hope for my neighbor as it is for myself.

So then, without this kind of personal mysticism, this personal relationship with Christ Jesus, our religion becomes a kind of moralism that is humorless and exhausting. It is then without hope for a redeemed world and becomes very self-indulgent. Now it cannot be so for us living in this age of fear and threat. The opposite of joy is not sadness. Sadness is the opposite of happiness. Sadness and Happiness are responses to conditions. They come and go. The opposite of joy is fear, and the two cannot be found in a person of faith and in a person who has a real living relationship with Jesus Christ. There is no fear in a person of faith who knows what God has in store for those who love him.

In these days when world events and would-be world leaders would like to scare us with their passionate rhetoric set to frighten us into their ideologies, there must be in us the sure and certain hope that nothing can take our joy and our hope because nothing can shake our relationship with Christ or change the future that he has promised us. So if this is time for Joy, then it is time for prayer in a season of hope.

Genesis 3, 9-15, 20 – Psalm 98 – Ephesians 1, 3-6, 11-12 – Luke 1, 26-38 at Saint Peter the Apostle Parish in Naples, FL.

While this feast is certainly and obviously about the Blessed Mother and God’s favor toward her, the older I get and the more often I join the church in celebrating this feast, the more I am beginning to see that it is much more than our response to a dogmatic expression of a fundamental tenant of our faith: that Mary was Immaculate and conceived without sin in order to give flesh to the Word of God.

What is gradually dawning on me, and what I would encourage you to reflect upon as we make this day “holy” by interrupting our usual weekday routine to gather as Church is that this Feast is really about vocation, about God’s call not just to Mary, but to us all. It is, in the end, about our response to God’s call to give flesh to and make visible the Word of God. In other words, today is not just about Mary, it is about vocations and it proposes that we pay attention to our own vocation and how we respond. To do that, the church puts Mary before us as a model and example of how one ought to respond to what God asks of us.

Mary is not the only member of the human family with a vocation. She is not the only member of the human family to which God has come asking us to give life to his Son, to give flesh and blood for the sake of his presence. This is ultimately the vocation that every one of us has received in this life. Somehow in each unique way we are all asked by God to give life to his son and bring the Word to life again. Husbands and Wives in their vocation to marriage give a flesh and blood, heart and soul presence of God to each other and to all of us as their commitment makes real God’s promise to remain with us always in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. Then if called to the vocation of parenting, these same models of love and openness to God are entrusted with life and the vocation of bringing that life into the presence of God as they teach and form their children in Gospel living. Young people in their vocation as disciples of Jesus give flesh and blood to the Word of God by their youthful energy and joy. Their openness to the Holy Spirit guides them in the use of their gifts exploring and growing in love and passion, zeal and openness to God’s call to service and commitment. Single people either those not called to marriage or those who have fulfilled until death their vocation as a husband or wife are also still called to give flesh and make real the presence of Christ. Their “yes” to whatever God asks or to where ever God leads is learned from the model of Mary who said “yes” to the unexpected and perhaps the not-too-welcome news brought by an angel. In their lives there is still a call to discipleship and stewardship, to service, sacrifice and prayer.

Paul in his letter to the Ephesians understood this and we heard his words to that community as he confirms that we have every spiritual blessing in the heavens. It is not just Mary Immaculate who have every spiritual blessing. He continues to insist that we are chosen from the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless in God’s sight.

What more does it take for us to realize that on this feast, the Blessed Mother is the model and example of how to respond to the call God has made to us all?  To push her off on a pedestal as a way of excusing ourselves from responding with a firm “yes” to whatever God asks of us or puts before us a shameful betrayal of the faith into which we have been born. This feast then turns the story back on us. You don’t need angel to know that God is calling you. You simply need to look around and see where God is absent and step into the void. Where there is hatred, hunger, loneliness, sadness, and emptiness, where there is need for forgiveness and for peace, where God’s mercy is unknown and never experienced, we must go. This is not some complicated theology. It is the simple reality of our faith and the vocation we have because of it. Will you go? Will you be there? Will you stay there? Today’s feast encourages us to respond.