1st Sunday in Advent, Cycle B

It is hard to believe we have just wrapped up another Church year and find ourselves once again beginning Advent. And while I am tempted to preach on the common themes of Advent, relating them to our daily life and preparations for Christmas, I feel I need to first address what has been going on in our great city. Not because I want to. In fact, perhaps like many of you, I am sick of reading about, hearing about, and watching what has been going on in Ferguson and the surrounding area. In the more than three months that have passed since Officer Wilson shot Michael Brown, we have been unable to escape the endless speculation on the Grand Jury, whose decision we now know. We have been surrounded by angry accusations from all sides and watched helplessly as a small number of fools burn, loot, and destroy not only part of our great city, but also our image around the world. What is maddening about the whole situation is that so many people fail to see, in the midst of their constant analysis, opinions, and arguments, a simple truth at the heart of the whole situation. 

That simple truth is sin: original sin, passed down to us from Adam and Eve at the dawn of creation. This fundamental sin disposes us towards the things we ought not like or want and makes it hard to chose the things which are best for us and for others. Original sin which has put our world out of sync with God and his loving plan. But there is also actual sin, sin that I choose to commit. Deliberate thoughts, words and actions that drive me away from God and from other people and bring about hurt, selfishness, and destruction. No matter how you feel about what happened on August 9th between Officer Wilson and Michael Brown, one truth stands tall. At the heart of that encounter which took the life of one man and changed the course of another, in that moment which became a catalyst for incredible pain, destruction, and grief throughout an entire city, driving all these terrible things was sin. If you boil down any of the arguments, any of the reasons for why this took place, you will eventually trace it back to both personal and original sin, which is nothing more than our wandering away from God.

On Monday night, as I watched the various protestors, most peaceful and law-abiding, a few deliberately causing destruction and mayhem, I found myself getting angry to the point of hatred. Not just at the ones looting, burning, and destroying. But also at those people who seemed to be delighting in the lawlessness, seeing it as excusable, justified, or simply entertaining. As valid as my feelings might have been, I realized that everything happening in these days is a macrocosm, a super-sized version of what goes on in every human heart. Within each of us are the conflicting desires of love and hatred, mercy and vengeance, gentleness and force, order and chaos, right and wrong. Without God’s grace and help, any one of us could be the one destroying, looting, burning, and hurting. These are all results of sin, something we all struggle with; not a single one of us is immune. 

So what we are seeing right now in our city, in a very graphic and painful way, is what happens when we wander away from God. And how quickly things go downhill when we try to address the pain of sin and its consequences with anything other than God’s grace and healing.

And that is where the season of Advent and today’s readings tie in. We are reminded that Christ is indeed near us at every moment of our lives. Our Faith reminds us that Christ wants to draw us back to him and put an end to our destructive wandering. That is the message for us on this first Sunday of Advent. Our gospel tells us to be watchful, to watch for the Lord’s coming and return to him. Jesus makes it clear that we must be prepared if we are going to be ready to receive him when he comes. This is a test we do not want to fail as people that bear his name; when he returns, we want him to find us waiting and ready. 

But because of our sinful tendencies, because of our inclination towards chaos, we need this season of Advent. We need this time each year to examine our lives and ask ourselves if we are living in a way that puts Christ in the center of our hearts. 

The amazing thing about our faith is the trust that God puts in us. Especially when you consider how so many of us behave. Yet, even so, God entrusts us with a building up a piece of his kingdom and all he says is "do a good job, behave well, and be alert for my return."

Christ is coming again, and we need him to come again; too many in the world have become unruly. But, while we long for his return, as Israel longed for his coming in the first reading this morning, while we long for the time when the world will be a place of harmony and peace, for the time when all things will be finally straightened out, the time when the wicked will get their just desserts and the faithful their reward,  we need not be overly concerned about when it will come, we need not worry because we have our work to do in the meantime and we can trust God to honor that work, and to keep his promise to be merciful and kind to those who have lived by faith in him.

The Lord will come, and the faithful and the unfaithful alike will see him coming. They will see him coming with his angels in the clouds with great power and glory, and the angels will be sent out to gather his elect from the four corners of the earth, and there will be justice, there will be peace. A peace greater than that which any earthly court can render, a justice more just than that which any law can guarantee.

This is our hope, this is our Christian faith, and this is the time in which we show our Lord that we indeed can be trusted. 

During this advent, let us allow the words of Isaiah in the first reading to resonate in our hearts and in our lives: “You, LORD, are our father, our redeemer you are named forever. Return for the sake of your servants. Would that you might meet us doing right, that we were mindful of you in our ways!”

Christ the King

            I don’t know about you, but it has been hard to pick up the paper or watch the news lately. It seems like every time I check on what is happening in our world there is more bad news. Whether you’re talking about our nation’s politics, world events, especially with ISIS, Ebola, and the Ukraine, or of course, the local happenings in Ferguson, there doesn’t seem to be much good that is going on at this time. To be honest, reading the news often leaves me frustrated and discouraged as I see story after story of corruption, people hurting each other, suffering souls with no relief in sight, and scandalous behavior by those who promised to care for the poor, the sick, and the weak.

            Perhaps you understand this feeling yourself. Maybe you have been hurt by some of the events that are taking place in our country and across the world. Just the other day I was talking with a member of my family who is having trouble making ends meet and it breaks my heart to see them suffering, struggling to get through this time of the year which is supposed to be characterized by giving and getting together with family. Maybe you, like me, sit down amidst all of this and wonder “why”? Why have so many good people lost their jobs, their homes, their retirement savings and live paycheck to paycheck? Why do executives of failing companies get massive bonuses or severance packages while thousands of employees are laid off? Why are so many innocent people losing their lives to wars, disease, and hunger, even when so much of this could be prevented? Why are troublemakers glorified and law-abiding citizens ignored? But even more fundamental than the question “why” is the question, “where is God in all of this?”

            As Christians, we believe that God is all-good, all-powerful, all-knowing, and ever-present here in our world. But when we see good people being hurt, when the innocent are suffering and dying at the hands of the wicked and greedy, this belief can be challenging. And it becomes even more difficult when the people who are suffering are our friends or family members. At times like these, it can be easy to look around and wonder: “Where are you God? How can you allow these things to happen?”

            It’s for times like these that the Church, in her wisdom, gives us the feast that we celebrate today, the feast of Christ the King. Today we reminded as Christians, of the faith we profess in Jesus Christ as king of heaven and earth. He is in control of all that is happening, no matter how bad it seems, and he will make all things work for his greater honor and glory.

This feast is relatively new in the life of the Church. It was founded in 1925 by Pope Pius XI for a very practical reason. At the time, a certain dictator named Mussolini had taken control of Italy and another young man named Adolph Hitler was gathering support for the Nazi Party.

Across the world, the economy was beginning to fail and peace was faltering only a few years after the devastating First World War. These times were dark times and many were wondering if God was present or if evil had finally conquered the world. So Pius XI founded the feast of Christ the King to remind Christians that Jesus was in charge of the world and of history; not evil people and their destructive plans.

Now our times aren’t so different from the 1920’s. We often experience the effects of modern-day Mussolini’s and present-day Hitler’s; evil people still seize power and oppress the weak. Our world hopes for peace even while wars rage and terrorists murder the innocent and defenseless. So many in our world are affected by the struggle for earthly power and dominance, which causes abuses in marriages, families, and whole societies. Our times have seen some horrendous attacks on human life and dignity. People still go hungry; the rich still oppress the poor, good so often appears to be defeated by evil. We need the message of hope and comfort given to us by Christ the King just as people did in 1925!! We need to be reminded that Christ still rules over history, even when things look terrible and depressing. We need to recall the fact that this world is passing away and the kingdom of God is coming to take its place for all eternity.  

This is the truth of Christ the King. He is Lord of heaven and earth. He will return to make things right and to destroy evil once and for all. But for now he waits and, despite his unlimited power, he gives us a choice, he doesn’t force us to serve him. He asks us to choose between serving him and serving the world. But we cannot do both.

Do we allow Christ to be Lord of our lives and king of our hearts? Or do we allow a desire for earthly power, personal autonomy, and worldly comfort to take hold of us? Do we choose Christ’s version of power, with its mandate to serve others and sacrifice ourselves? Or do we seek the power of this world, which so often crushes and dominates.

            We can take consolation in Christ our king, whose kingship is described in psalm 23 today as a loving shepherd. We have a king who doesn’t just rule over us but who actually loves us to the point of laying down his life for you and me. And it’s in dark times like these, when things are truly difficult and frightening, that Christ comes to seek us out when we feel lost or frightened, to show us the way to safety. In this Eucharistic sacrifice, let us thank God for his loving kingship and let us renew our faith in him, our all-powerful shepherd who never stops caring for us and protecting us from all harm.

Dedication of the Lateran Basilica

                        Today we celebrate the feast of the dedication of the Lateran Basilica in Rome. The fact that we are celebrating this feast on a Sunday is a little odd. Usually, when a liturgical memorial falls on a Sunday, the normal Sunday Liturgy overrides it. This is because Sunday, the Lord's Day, the weekly participation in his sacrificial death and resurrection, is the real cornerstone of the Church's spiritual and liturgical life. But today is different. Today a liturgical memorial falls on a Sunday, but it takes precedence over the normal Sunday Readings and prayers.

                        And to make the situation even more exceptional, the memorial isn't even connected to a saint or a particular person, but to a building, the first Christian church in history: the Basilica of St John Lateran in Rome. Why is this building so important that today the world's Catholics are all thanking God for it and celebrating the memorial of its dedication, which took place in the year 324 AD? The answer to that very reasonable question is that this Church is much more than just a building. It is one of the four major basilicas in Rome and it is the cathedral of the pope. As such, it is known as the Cathedral of Rome and of the World. In addition to this, it is a powerful symbol, the embodiment of one of the most profound truths of our faith: that the Catholic Church is indestructible. Jesus promised that he would be with us until the end of time, through all the ups and downs of history, and that the gates of hell would never close around his one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church. This building, this Basilica, stands as evidence that Jesus has been keeping his promise.

                        There are two main reasons for this. First, the Lateran Basilica calls to mind the Church's first major victory. For the first 300 years of the Church's history, being a Christian was illegal. The Catholic Church was marked by wave after wave of violent, horrible persecution. The Roman Empire wanted to stamp out Christianity because Christians refused to worship the false gods that pagan rulers depended upon for protection. By worshipping Christ instead of the pagan gods, Christians became enemies of the state, and they suffered because of it. During those centuries, no public places of worship, no churches, were built because the situation was simply too risky.

                        That changed with the Emperor Constantine. In the year 312 Constantine's small army defeated a much larger army in the Battle of Milvian Bridge. Constantine attributed his victory to Jesus Christ, who had granted him a vision of the cross, held up by angels, and a shining crest with Jesus' initials. Written across the sky in this vision were the words, "In this sign you shall conquer." Constantine had the Christian monogram emblazoned on his soldiers' shields and banners, and they went on to victory. As soon as he became sole emperor, he ended the centuries-long persecution of Christians, legalizing Christianity and even supporting it by sponsoring the construction of its first public churches. The very first one was the magnificent Basilica whose dedication we celebrate today: the Arch-Basilica of the Most Holy Savior, better known as St John Lateran. To look upon this building is to look upon the power of God that outlasted and won over the full might of the Roman Empire, the Church's first persecutor.

                       

                       

                        But there is also a second reason why this feast is given so much attention. The Lateran Basilica not only symbolizes that first major victory in the history of the Church, it also symbolizes the living Church, the supernatural power of the Catholic Church to endure and grow through the centuries. Like the Catholic Church herself, the Lateran Basilica has survived and thrived in spite of horrendous troubles, disasters, and betrayals. In 410 AD, it was ransacked by the invading Visigoths, who stormed Rome and destroyed everything in their path. In 455 another army of barbarians, the Vandals, returned to finish the job, stealing its treasures, sacking its beautiful altars, and smashing its recently rebuilt walls and pillars. In 896 the immense wooden roof caved in as the result of an earthquake. In 1308 the rebuilt structure again collapsed due to a fire. A year later the pope moved out of Rome to begin the papacy's 70-year residence in France. With the pope and cardinals gone, the Basilica fell into further disrepair, and another fire broke out in 1367, leaving barely more than a pile of smoldering ruins. When the papacy returned to Rome in 1377, the Basilica was in such bad condition that the pope didn't even bother to move back in - they relocated to the Vatican instead. For the next 400 years, the Basilica was repaired, beautified, restored, and refurbished little by little, one piece at a time - the roof, the nave, the narthex, the façade, and finally, in 1887, the apse.

                        That history of good times and bad, disasters and attacks, renovations and improvements is a symbol of the history of the whole Catholic Church. Today's feast reminds us not just of a great building, not just of the first great victory of the Church, but also of the supernatural power that has kept the Church surviving and thriving for more than 2000 years, in spite of attacks from the outside and struggles with corruption on the inside.

                        This is why today, throughout the entire world, Catholics are celebrating the dedication of an old church. It is much more than an old building with sentimental value: it is the mother of all church buildings. This basilica is the tangible evidence of the trustworthiness of Christ's promise that by his grace the Catholic Church will last for all time. Today when we recite the Creed, recite it from the heart, remembering this great story that we are a part of, that we have a chance each day to contribute to the story of salvation. And as we receive the living Body and Blood of Christ in Holy Communion let's ask our Lord for the grace to make our lives into living basilicas, as St Paul described in today's Second Reading. Be decorated with every virtue, so as to be living signs of God's power and love in this world that is so desperately looking for something, or someone, to hope in. This is the beauty of this feast of St. John Lateran; this is the beauty of our Catholic faith, do not be afraid to share it with the world!!

All Souls Day

There is a story that's told of an old priest in a little country parish. He was a rather gentle fellow, he loved his parishioners and they loved him. He was pretty easygoing and even-tempered and didn't do too much to surprise people. However, every year, right around this time, he would give a fire and brimstone sermon on the four last things, which are death, judgment, heaven, and hell. This homily was passionate and appropriately fiery. As he went through his homily, he got more and more worked up and he finally exclaimed: "one day, every single member of this parish will die." The congregation was stunned, sitting straight up in their seats. But then they heard someone laughing, almost to the point of losing control. Slowly the heads turned and all eyes focused on this stranger who could hardly catch his breath between fits of laughter. Greatly annoyed, the pastor said, "and what do you think is so funny about the fact that one day all of the people in this parish will experience death?" The man looked at him and simply said, "I am not a member of this parish."

I doubt that any one of us would think that this fellow was very logical in thinking that he was somehow cheating death. But there is something inside each of us that dreads the thought of our own death. We often avoid thinking about our inevitable end here on earth. This is a basic human tendency; it is quite natural to dread the though of death and all it brings. Far too often we choose to distract ourselves with less important activities. We tend to immerse ourselves in the things of this world; we spend all our time and energy looking after the demands of our earthly life and spend little to no time preparing for the all-important moment when when we will come face-to-face with God himself. And for this reason, Holy Mother Church gives us the feast day of All Souls. On this day, we are mindful of our own mortality and we are reminded and encouraged to pray for those who have died and gone before us, marked with the sign of faith.

            This feast of All Souls Day is a perfect opportunity for us to ponder the reality of our own mortality. It is one of the few days that the priest is permitted to wear a black vestment. The music and readings focus on the mercy of God and the comfort that he brings. There is a traditional hymn which calls upon the angels to guide the departed soul to its eternal resting place in heaven. The Church focuses on all of this, not because she is morbid or obsessed with death, but because she wants us to be prepared for that important moment when each of us will be required to stand before God and give an account of how we lived our life. There is a tendency in our world to see death as the end. But we, as followers of Christ, know that death is actually the beginning of a new and everlasting life. The Church teaches that three options await us after we die, depending on how we lived our life. The first option is heaven. Those who die in the state of grace and have a perfect love of God and a complete detachment from sin will gain entrance to heaven. The second option is hell. Hell is reserved for those who die in the state of mortal sin and by their actions have chosen live apart from God for all eternity.

           

            The third possibility is purgatory, something we don’t hear much about these days. Purgatory is still something we Catholics believe in. It is a state of purification that involves suffering; where souls who died in the state of grace but still had attachments to sin and evil go to be cleansed. This makes sense to us if we think about it. No one who is impure, unloving or sinful in any way can be in the presence of God. Realistically, few of us ever achieve such purity and perfection here on earth. Therefore, God, in his great mercy and love offers this opportunity for souls to be cleansed and restored so they might return to him. This belief in purgatory should give us hope because it assures us that even if we are not completely spiritually clean at the moment of our death, we can be made clean in purgatory and be admitted to heaven. Purgatory is a temporary state. Therefore, everyone who is in purgatory will one day be in heaven.

This belief in purgatory reinforces the Christian practice of praying for the dead. Praying for the dead was not some sort of medieval invention; rather, it was a common practice among the early Christians in Rome. Inscriptions of such prayers have been found in the catacombs, and some of the church Fathers commended this ancient practice. In the Old Testament book of Maccabees, the practice of praying for those who have died is praised. As a matter of fact, it wasn’t until the protestant revolt, with Martin Luther in the 16th century, that people even considered withholding their prayers for the dead.

Common sense, history, and the Bible all agree: purgatory is real and many if not most of us will need to be purified from the vestiges of sin and selfishness after we die, so that we can fully experience the joys of heaven. This is not a complicated doctrine. The Church has made no definitive statements about what exactly happens, or where, or exactly how long it takes. We just know three things for certain: that a purification after death exists, that it involves some kind of pain, and that it can be assisted by the prayers and offerings the living make to God.

Knowing this motivates us to do two things. First, we can accept the sufferings of life here on earth with faith, uniting them to Christ's sufferings on the cross. Thus we can grow closer to Christ in this life, getting our purification done faster and less painfully now instead of later. Second, we can alleviate the suffering of our brothers and sisters who have died and are now in purgatory by praying for them, offering Masses for them, obtaining indulgences for them... God has generously connected our lives to theirs.

As we celebrate this feast of all souls, do not be afraid to consider death and to ask yourself if your soul is preparing to meet God. Nothing could be more important than this moment; it has eternal consequences. And then, let us also pray for those who have died, especially our friends and family, that if they are in purgatory, they might soon be united with God in heaven. Certainly, there is no greater kindness we can do here on earth than to pray for the dead and help them obtain eternal happiness in heaven. We can be assured that they will assist us during our time here on earth and pray for us when the moment of our death arrives. Eternal rest grant to them O Lord and let perpetual light shine upon them. May the souls of all the faithful departed rest in peace. Amen.