We're still a day shy of December and I've already had my fill of what's playing and passing for music on the radio, on television and in stores and restaurants.
I don't want to hear seasonal music every time I turn on the radio.
When I walk through Macy's doors, I don't want to hear hymns I'll sing walking in the entrance procession at Midnight Mass.
I don't want to hear monks or chipmunks while I'm having dinner in a good restaurant.
I have a real problem with legitimate Christmas music backing up advertising.
These inescapable sounds don't help me "get into the season" because the season I'm trying to get into is Advent, not Christmas.
What are your thoughts on the timing of all these tinseled tunes?
Call me a geek or a Grinch - doesn't both me! Didn't expect to change a thing by posting this. Just wanted to get it off my chest.
(If you agree, there's a widget on the sidebar with some tunes that have a better fix on the season at hand.)
Just heard that a faithful reader from Manhassett, NY (whose name I don't know) was here in Concord for Mass on Sunday morning with her family. A visiting priest celebrated the 7:30 Mass and I wasn't over to church early enough to meet these Thanksgiving pilgrims.
Sorry to have missed you!
I'm grateful to MH for letting me know you were asking for me. If you have plans to be in Concord again, please let me know. And thanks for your faithful readership!
One night, just as I was ready to go our for dinner, I was paged by one of the nursing homes in my parish to come and anoint a dying resident. Her name was Anne. I had only met Anne the previous summer, when she was still living in her own apartment and doing quite well for an 89 year old woman who didn't look a day over 75.
Long before I took up residence in the rectory where I now hang my hat, Anne had worked for years as a cook, serving a number of priests at the table in the formal dining room now pretty much reserved for when company comes. I wonder how many meals she served to pastors and curates. I'm sure they were entertained by her sense of humor and her endless stream of stories. I hope they were kind to her over the years, kinder than life had sometimes been to Anne.
Anne's health has failed significantly and quickly since my summer visits. Some months back when she was no longer able to care for herself she came to the nursing home where more than one of the nursing staff has told me, "She's my favorite!" Indeed, while I was there the night I was called, four nurses stopped by Anne's room to hold her hand and to speak to her, although her awareness of those around her had grown quite dim.
Although she was awake and her wide opened eyes followed us who were huddled around her bed, Anne seemed preoccupied with a presence invisible to us. Although she occasionally spoke, we were unable to understand what she said. Still, there were two times when, with grace and reverence, she traced the sign of the cross upon herself. These gestures seemed unrelated to the moments when we prayed aloud or when I anointed her. Anne and the object of her gaze followed some spiritual horarium unknown to those at her side.
Around her neck was her rosary, the only jewelry adorning her as she took her last steps towards the kingdom's door. This rosary was a simple string of beads, each shaped something like a black olive. I noticed that the middle, the fattest part of each bead was worn bare of it's black hue by God-only-knows how many times Anne fingered those beads in prayer for God-only-knows how many prayerful intentions.
And I thought of the words Anne prayed perhaps hundreds of thousands of times:
Hail Mary, full of grace,the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of they womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us, sinners, nowand at the hour of our death...
And at the hour of our death... That's where I met Anne in the nursing home that night. Although her "hour" may lasted several more days, she soon became one of all the souls we pray for each November.
So deeply patterned on Anne's life was the sign of the Cross that she was able to prayerfully trace it in herself even when unable to speak with those around her.
In this month of November, for whom might each of us offer a Hail Mail?
And perhaps we might consider making it a daily practice to pray the same for ourselves every day, asking the Mother of God to pray for us now and a the hour of our death...
And please pray for Anne who has gone to God, and for those who love her and for those whom she loved...
With Advent begins a new year of grace, Lord,
the grace that is yours to share and give...
In this new year I want to offer you
an open door to my heart, Lord,
for you to enter and make your home there...
I offer you the corners of my heart's garden
where I let the weeds grow wild:
Lord, help me weed out
whatever does not nourish my life and soul...
I offer you the closets of my heart,
stuffed with old grudges and resentments:
Lord, help me discard anything
that fails to help me heal and grow...
I offer you my heart's cartons of wasted time,
boxes of foolishness
and bags of misspent effort:
Lord, help me clear out the trash of my mistakes
and give me a new beginning...
I offer you the cellar of my heart, Lord,
where a locked trunk of hurt and anger
aches to be opened with the key of your healing grace:
unlock what keeps me prisoner
to my memories and disappointments...
I offer you my heart's hopes and dreams, Lord,
for this new year of grace:
my pledge to pray more regularly;
my desire to grow in your love;
my need to rely on your wisdom and word;
my promise to ask for your help each day;
my hope to be more forgiving of those who offend me,
more faithful in serving others' needs,
more welcoming of those who are alone...
I offer you this new year of grace, Lord,
and ask for the strength and resolve I need
to live it as one worthy of the name Christian,
ready for the work of a disciple,
confident of your presence in everything I do
and in all I meet and know...
I offer you the new year ahead, Lord
- one day at a time -
and I pray for the serenity, the grace
to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can
and the wisdom to know the difference...
Around town, in the stores,
and even here at church with some wreaths
it’s beginning to look a lot like… “you know what!”
Anyone got a tree up yet? A wreath on your front door?
Lights on the house and in the front yard? Stockings hung?
Who went shopping on Friday - and at what hour?
All of these things are fine in themselves
unless and until we begin to mistake the trappings of Christmas
for its real meaning;
unless and until Advent gets lost in our Christmas rush.
Try to imagine for a moment: what would happen
if we took away all the trappings of Christmas?
If we took away Santa and all the presents,
all the decorations and lights,
all the spending and shopping and partying?
What would be left? What would we have?
Would the meaning of Christmas be any less real?
These scriptures we just heard
pose some hard questions for us
but they point us in the right direction for Advent
- and for Christmas.
The first scripture asks:
Are we remaking our weaponry into farm tools?
Are we training for war no more?
Are the nations of the world dedicated to making such peace --
-- the peace Isaiah dreamed and called us to?
And what if we scale down from the international
to our own lives?
Are we laying down the weapons
of long-standing disagreements?
the artillery of resentments and old grudges?
Are we willing to put aside
the swords of anger that arm and divide us
in our families? in our neighborhoods? in our parish?
Movement towards reconciliation and peace --
that’s the business of Advent.
Are we following St. Paul’s advice
to “throw off the works of darkness?”
- the words and deeds, the relationships
(business and social)
that we’re not so proud of?
embarrassed by?
ashamed of?
Are we putting on the “armor of light,”
living and working and playing
honestly, justly and charitably?
That’s the work Advent.
When it comes to our spiritual life,
are we awake, as Paul calls us to be?
Or are we dozing, napping, asleep at the switch?
What will wake us, shake us,
rouse us from our spiritual complacency?
In this season of “giving and getting”
(in the larger season of a bad economy),
what rivalries, jealousies and envy shape our expectations
and misshape our hearts’ desires?
Or are we working for acceptance of who we are
and contentment with what we have?
That’s the agenda for Advent.
Much more than “getting a birthday party ready for Jesus”
Advent is meant to be a season to help us
wake up and shape up, to be ready
- not for giving and getting presents -
but to rouse us to be ready to meet Christ
who has already come,
who is with us not just at the end of December
but every day of the year
and who will come again --
at the moment of our death
and at the end of time.
Advent is a season to prepare for,
to rehearse for meeting Jesus.
In a crèche in our living room or at church?
Yes, there too.
But more importantly to prepare ourselves to meet Jesus
day in and day out so that when he comes,
on that day, at that hour unknown to us,
we will be ready to meet him and his judgment.
Our horizon on all of this is so often and so easily limited
by the date of December 25.
Jesus will be no more present to us on Christmas Day
than he is on November 28 - today.
But the known date of Christmas gives us an opportunity
to pray and prepare for the unknown day and the hour
each of us will face.
An important part of our rehearsing for Christ’s return
is our outreach to those in need.
We have the Giving Trees
and the Prison Outreach Gift Project
not just to keep some people from feeling left out
on Christmas morning
but to help us remember that we should be harvesting
a forest of giving trees all year ‘round
-- because that is what followers of Jesus do
as they wait for his return.
What would Christmas look like if we took away the presents?
It would look like people waiting, not for a wrapped gift,
but waiting for One whose love is greater than any gift
that might be imagined or hoped for.
That's what Christians wait for in Advent.
Christmas without parties
might look like Cor Unum or the Boston Rescue Mission,
soup kitchens where our young people serve the poor and hungry.
Because that’s what Christians do
while waiting for Christ’s return.
Christmas without lights might look like a darkened stable
where a child is born in poverty,
or a table where the simple meal is
a piece of Bread and a sip from a Cup:
food for servants but served by a King.
As Christ came to Bethlehem some 2,000 years ago,
he comes to this table every time we celebrate the Eucharist.
As he gave himself once in the sacrifice of the Cross
so he gives himself today in sacrament of the altar.
May the Eucharist and this season of Advent
ready our hearts for the day when we will meet Jesus
and strengthen us to ready the world for his return.
If you have an Advent Wreath at home, pray for peace this week as you light the first candle each day. If you don't have an Advent Wreath - light any candle and pray for peace. If you have no candle, simply pray for peace...
Pray for an end to war and its violence and bloodshed...
Pray for the safe return of those in the armed services
who are far away from home and family and friends...
Pray for those who have died in the war
and for those they left behind...
Pray for the poor who suffer war's hardships...
Pray for peace...
Pray for the peace the world cannot give or make for itself...
Pray for our enemies...
Pray, too, for an end to the little wars (and the bigger ones)
waged in our own lives, in our families, our neighborhoods,
at work and in the Church...
Pray for those who have been harmed by our belligerence...
Pray for those we make our personal enemies...
Pray for an end to the wars we fight within ourselves...
Pray for peace...
Pray for the peace we cannot give or make for ourselves...
In a fine, accessible essay on this topic, Dominican scripture scholar Wilfrid Harrington writes: The Greek word parousia means “presence” or “arrival.” In the ancient Greek-speaking world, it was used to describe the ceremonial visit of a ruler or the apparition of a god. In the New Testament it is used of the appearance or coming of the glorified Christ at the close of salvation history. In dramatic fashion, it expresses faith in a final act of God that will mark the goal of human history. This act will be the establishment, in its fullness, of the kingdom of God. After New Testament times this came to be known, somewhat unhelpfully, as the Second Coming of Christ.
That's the theological definition of parousia. Hans Reinhold reminds us that the Latin adventus from which our word Advent derives is the exact Christian equivalent ofparousia!Can you see how we have domesticated our notion of Advent? How we have whittled it down to a month marked by four candles in a wreath, counting off the days to December 25th? The parousia reduced to a calendar with little windows opening on pretty pictures or sweets.
If you ponder the difference here, you'll have a better take on some of the Advent scriptures (those for the First Sunday of Advent this year, for example). Words about the end time and the final judgment and establishment of God's reign over creation are pure Advent vocabulary, properly understood. None of this is meant for scaring the hell out of folks. Rather the intention is to urge us to fidelity to the Lord and his word, pushing us towards the work of justice, healing and mercy, signs that the reign of God is already in our midst.
We serve the poor at Christmas not simply so that those in need will not feel left out on December 25th. Rather, we serve the poor -and are called to serve the poor every day- because such is the work, the business of the likes of us who pray:
Deliver us, Lord, from every evil and grant us peace in our day. In your mercy keep us free from sin and protect us from all anxiety as we wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ. For the kingdom, the power and the glory are yours, now and forever.
These days it's easy to find (and difficult to escape) Christmas music while the beautiful songs of Advent are confined to Sunday mornings. Here's a widget with 26 varied Advent and winter musical offerings for your prayer and reflection in the weeks ahead. I'll post it on the sidebar as well.
At sundown today, we enter the season of Advent and a new Year of Grace.
With a Kyrie (Lord have mercy) and Dona nobis pacem (Grant us peace) soundtrack, this video draws us into the season of Advent as those who wait not only for Christmas on December 25 but, more importantly, for all the ways the Lord comes to us on every day of the year - and all the ways we wait for his coming...
This weekend I will observe a little ritual which it's been my pleasure to carry out now for some 37 years. I will move the ribbons in the Sacramentary to the collects and preface for the First Sunday of Advent. The ribbon for the collects brings us back to the front of the Sacramentary such that the left hand page will not easily lie flat but will buckle up a bit against the right hand which holds a year's worth of pages yet to pray through.
This is, I know, a small task but one which never fails to remind me that the Church is beginning a new year, another year of celebrating our life in Christ and the saving events that bind us together as the Body of Christ: a new Year of Grace.
I've moved those ribbons in suburban and city parishes and in campus chapels. The ribbon-turning began when I wasn't altogether sure of where the ribbons were supposed to go. And I moved those ribbons in years when I wondered if I would remain in this ribbon-bound priesthood. I changed the ribbons in years early on when I found the Sacramentary to be somewhat limiting but later, that same book became an old and reliable friend. I've actually worn out a Sacramentary or two and even before trading in for a new copy, the ribbons themselves have sometimes needed to be replaced.
I've turned the ribbons back to Advent in years of the Church's grace and in years of its disgrace. Those ribbons and the book they mark have been with me for coming close to four decades and I thank God for the grace of all those years born of the prayers and rites the Sacramentary offers us.
And now a new Year of Grace is about to begin and I will find myself at 5:00 this Saturday evening, witnessing the lighting of the first candle on our parish Advent wreath and then opening the book to where the ribbon will lead me to pray these beautiful words yet again:
Father in heaven,
our hearts desire the warmth of your love
and our minds are searching
for the light of your Word.
Increase our longing for Christ our Savior
and give us the strength to grow in love,
that the dawn of his coming
may find us rejoicing in his presence
and welcoming the light of his truth.
But this will be the last year I'll have an opportunity to pray these words of the alternative Opening Prayer. Beginning with Advent 2011, we'll be using a new Roman Missal with a new translation of the ordinary parts of the Mass and those parts (like the Opening Prayer) which the priest prays.
There's been much controversy over this translation and the theory of translation from which the new texts will derive. I've not paid a lot of attention to these matters on this page although there is a link on the sidebar to the USCCB site dealing with these concerns. For an in depth look at all of this go to the always informative Pray Tell Blog which provides this helpful summary link to its coverage of the translation and development of the new Roman Missal.
No one defends the translation we've been using as perfect. I'm not unaware of its problems but neither am I ignorant of its value. Regardless of my opinion of the coming new translation, I understand the need for a corrective review of the current texts. Even with its imperfections, however, the present Sacramentary is not the danger to souls that some make it out to be.
Following the story of the translation controversy it comes to mind that over some 37 years, I don't recall one person ever approaching me to question or to complain about the translation of the ordinary parts of the Mass or the prayers in the Sacramentary - with the exception of comments about texts that rely on masculine pronouns to stand for both genders of the faithful. Of course the average worshiper is unfamiliar with the Latin text and thus unlikely to offer a critique of its translation. But neither have any parishioners in my own experience complained that the texts are banal, trite, uninspired, or somehow lacking in reverence for all that is holy - as some in the thick of the debate like to claim.
My purpose here is not to enter the fray and take one side or the other. I'm a pastor and between now and Advent 2011 I will need to find ways to prepare for and introduce my parish and myself to these changes - that's the given. My point in this post is simply to acknowledge the anticipated passing of an old friend, the 1975 Sacramentary.
The most important ministry I offer as a priest is my work in leading the people of God in the celebration of the sacraments. All other elements of my ministry flow from the liturgy and lead back to it. The ritual books for individual sacraments not withstanding, the Sacramentary is a pastor's constant companion in the liturgy: at the chair, at the altar, at the doors of the church. And what pastor could even prepare to celebrate the liturgy without the Sacramentary close at hand?
The Sacramentary has served the Church well in spite of its flaws.
As Advent begins and we pray from the current Sacramentary for one more year, I'll likely notice its weak points more readily and enjoy its fruits more fully one last time. And I'll pray that we who minister with the new Missal and all who are served by it will find in its pages and language a faithful companion and voice for our prayer in the decades ahead.
On this weekend, however, this pastor will be pleased to pray, one more time, that the dawn of his coming will find us rejoicing in his presence and welcoming the light of his truth...
A custom in my parish is the annual appearance outside our church of the Turkey Trucks on the Sunday before Thanksgiving. Parishioners are encouraged to bring a turkey to Mass and the collected birds are then delivered to two programs which supply them to people in need on Thanksgiving.
In addition to "in house" advertising for this event, our young folks are out in force with signs letting drivers-by know what's going on. A number of such folks see the teens and their signs and detour to a local supermarket open to pick up a Tom to bring back. This year over 200 turkeys were collected which, to my recollection, is a record catch!
Above are just some of the young people who worked on this project. It's a joy to know that their work will be a blessing upon the tables of many families this Thursday morning.
Today I thank God
for the gift of faith:
that strength, power and source within
showing me the way,
guiding me in the dark,
making sure my unsteady step,
giving light for finding the truth
and hope for living in troubled times...
Today I thank God
for the gift of the Church:
that wounded, rag-tag, joyful company
of sinners and saints
whose faith (see above)
is our strength,
binding us to God...
Today I thank God
for all the people
around, behind and before me:
the ones who gave me life
and shaped my life;
those who bring me joy today
and hope for tomorrow;
and I thank God, too,
for the people I've not yet met...
Today I thank God
for the simple tools
I have for doing his work:
words, wonder, witness, wit and wisdom-
roughly in that order!
Today I thank God for you, my readers!
Aliased, named or anonymous
commenting or silent:
you are solidly more than half of an enterprise
that brings me more joy and peace than you know.
For being here, for reading, for commenting,
for sharing and spreading my posts,
for coming back again and again:
I thank God for you!
For several weeks I've been counting down the end of Ordinary Time in the Year of Grace 2010 and we have finally arrived on the eve of the First Sunday of Advent in the Year of Grace 2011!
The scriptures for this weekend and commentary on them can be found here. Bringing youngsters to Mass with you on Sunday? Look here for tips on helping them prepare to hear the Lord's Word as Advent begins.
We begin a year of readings from the gospel of Matthew and this first installment reminds us that Advent is about much more than "getting ready for Christmas" -- it's about getting ready for forever! The day's gospel proclamation ends with Jesus' words, "So too, you also must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come."
The day's first scripture gives us Isaiah's vision of all peoples streaming to the Lord's mountain and includes the well known image of the peace we all long for: "They shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks; one nation shall not raise the sword against another, nor shall they train for war again."
It's the second lesson, however, from Romans that gets particular about what we need to avoid in preparing for the coming of the Son of Man: "orgies and drunkenness, promiscuity and lust, and rivalry and jealousy." Indeed, warns St. Paul, we are to "make no provision for the desires of the flesh." Now isn't that interesting advice in the season of all seasons for consumerism!
A new liturgical year is beginning - time for resolutions! Therefore: "I resolve to take time each week to read and pray over the scriptures for the coming Sunday to prepare myself to worship on the Lord's Day!"
(Our attention has turned to Thanksgiving but we are still in November, the Month All Souls. Perhaps this fine verse will help to lighten grieving hearts on the holiday...)
He will with gladness greet your goodness!
At the moment of my death, my soul will stand before God for his merciful judgment on my life. At the end of time when Christ comes again, my soul will be reunited with my body in a glorious way.
So Christians believe!
This short poem speaks the indescribable joy of the resurrection of the dead when Christ comes again.
Benedictus
When Christus comes
to pry with hard hands
bones from the grave's grasp,
He will stand you strong.
He will shape and soothe you
a fresh, smooth flesh,
stronger, of finer shape
and shade than ever
you walked in life.
When your eyes bloom
again, and bright blood
booms in your new being,
His, the first face you see,
will with gladness greet
your goodness, your name
sweet upon His lips.
Of the four gospels, only Matthew's (from which we begin reading this coming Sunday) tells the story of the Magi coming to visit the Christ child. Image by Tony Mendoza
The scriptures at Sunday Mass unfold over a three year cycle of readings. With the First Sunday of Advent we will begin Year A which is dominated by the gospel according to Matthew. (Year B is Mark and Year C, just completed, was Luke)
You might find it helpful to read some background material on the gospel of Matthew and I recommend the introduction to Matthew from the New American Bible, the translation all American parishes use.
Knowing Matthew's background and something about the community he writes for will be very helpful in understanding how his witness speaks to us today.
Blessed are you, Lord, God of all creation! Through your goodness we have so much for which to be thankful.
Make us grateful for all you have given us; let our needs and desires not blind us to all we have.
Make us grateful for those who love us; let no grudge or anger keep us from family and friends.
Make us grateful for those who are with us; let no grief isolate us from their loving embrace.
Make us grateful for the good work we have done:
let our failures not weigh us down
or blind us to your mercy.
Make us grateful for the freedom we enjoy; let us never take it for granted.
Make us grateful for the peace we find in you; let no other cause or victory take its place.
Make us grateful for our dreams; let no disappointment keep us from hope.
Make us grateful for our faith in you; let no doubt keep us from your love.
Make us grateful for the meal we are about to share and make us mindful of those who have so much less. May we be strengthened to change what keeps so many hungry while others have too much.
Give us grateful hearts, O God, to praise and thank you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow.
This is the day you have made, O Lord: let us rejoice, be glad
and for it give you thanks and praise!
This week is a time, Lord,
when we do what we should do always and everywhere:
give you thanks and praise!
I offer you thanks for all the people
I so often take for granted:
those who serve me in a hundred, quiet ways each day;
those who work with me and around me and near me;
those who so often make my life easier, my work lighter;
those whose work so often makes my work fruitful...
And I thank you for those who stand ready to protect me,
in the town where I live and at posts far away,
even around the world;
I thank you for those who keep me safe
who safeguard my freedom and liberty...
I thank you for those whose work brings me:
food from farms;
delight from poetry and song and all the arts;
news from the world; truth from study;
and knowledge from a million different sources...
I thank you for those who deliver heat, light
and clean water to my home;
those who keep my home, my church
and my town the beautiful places they are;
those who bring the mail to my door;
those who deliver all the comforts I take for granted...
I thank you for all the people
who fill my mornings, days and evenings
with their smiles, their friendship,
their company and conversation...
I offer you thanks for the beauty of the world around me:
the light of sun and moon and stars;
the pull of ocean tides, the depths of lakes,
the flow of streams, the ripples of ponds;
the colors of nature, the bird on the wing,
the flowers of the field;
and all of Cape Cod...
I thank you for my faith, my trust, my hope in you;
I thank you for my ministry and the people I serve;
I thank you for the message of the gospel I preach
and the history of salvation
we inherit from your chosen people...
I thank you for the beauty of worship,
the depths of your Word,
they lyrics of the psalms,
the grace of the sacraments
and the life that is ours
through faith in you...
Make me truly and more deeply grateful, Lord,
for all you have given me
and for gifts I have yet to find and open...
I thank you, Lord,
for all things bright and beautiful
and for all things bruised and broken:
let me find in everything
and in everyone around me
a trace of your presence,
the fingerprint of your grace,
the signature of your artistry...
Indeed, Lord, help me
always and everywhere
to praise and thank you
for every good gift
that comes from your hand...
If Jesus doesn't rule our hearts, who does? (Scriptures for today's liturgy)
Audio for homily
The feast of Christ -- the king…
What do kings do?
They rule their subjects.
They make law.
They hand down decisions.
They command an army.
That’s any king.
A truly good king loves his subjects,
even when they do not love him.
A good king calls his people to order,
especially when chaos threatens to disturb the peace.
A good king insures justice for his people
especially when some of his subjects take advantage of others.
A good king defends his people from harm,
especially those too weak to defend themselves.
But if we are to honor Jesus as King this day,
(a title he himself rejected),
we need to expand our notion of kingship.
If we look to Jesus as the model
we find that a king calls his subjects to defer
not only to him but also to one another -
as if each were the servant of the other.
In Jesus we find a king who calls his subjects
to count wealth as a burden, not a boon,
unless that wealth is shared, freely, with those who have none.
In Jesus we find a king who calls his subjects
to surrender their power and authority in service of others
just as he did for them, on the Cross,
laying down his life not just for his friends,
not just for the good, but for sinners.
In Jesus we find a king who calls his subjects
to keep their eyes on a kingdom other
than the realm that is theirs at the moment,
to keep their eyes on a reign of peace that is yet to come -
and to live, even now, the peace of what is yet to be.
Once, when the crowds tried to make Jesus a king,
he went into hiding.
At another time, hours before he was crucified,
Pilate asked Jesus, “Are you a king?” and Jesus answered,
For this I was born and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.
We honor the rule of Jesus over our lives
when we listen to his voice
and attend to the truth of his word above any other.
We honor the rule of Jesus in our lives when, like him,
we surrender even our rightful power and authority
in service of those who are poor and treated unjustly.
We honor the rule of Jesus in our lives
when we count his love as our greatest wealth,
our most precious possession.
Many rulers compete to reign
over my mind, my heart and my life.
Sometimes my selfishness, my poor choices, my bad habits
rule my days and nights and rob me of true peace.
But even good things
(my work, my family, my dreams for my children)
can come between me and the One
who has the greatest claim on my loyalty and service.
Jesus turned down a crown the people offered him,
a crown of power,
but he willingly took upon himself another crown,
a thorny sign of his surrender, in love, for the sake of others.
And that is the truth to which he came to testify,
the truth he calls us to live.
We are citizens of a nation founded on the rejection of kingship.
But Jesus offers us another kind of rule.
If Jesus does not rule my heart, who does? what does?
If the surrender of Jesus in love, in service of others,
is not my model of success and achievement, what is?
If the Word of Jesus is not the truth by which I live,
by whose truth do I make my way in life?
It is not by accident that we worship, week after week,
in the shadow of the Cross,
and that we call the Supper we share
the sacrifice of the Eucharist.
Pray with me
that the Word, the truth, the surrender, the love of Jesus
rule our hearts and lives
and draw us to the reign of his peace
promised in the banquet we are about to share.
(Looking for some music to pray with on this Feast of Christ the King? Try here!)
Perhaps you'd like to listen to this music as you read, ponder and pray over this Sunday's scripture readings for the Solemnity of Christ the King - and commentary on them. All of which you will find here.
Here's an inspiring and heart-warming video featured on ESPN a week or so ago. I'm pleased to have been introduced to it by parishioner PKD whose son, Zach, is player #11 making the TD in the opening frames.
Nice play, Zach - and great work, Middlebury students!
Ah! if we only dreamed how close they stand
Who were our flesh and blood once, and are still
A part of us in sympathy and will,
We should not grieve so, thinking death had banned
All sweet communion with life’s spirit-land,
But fancy in each faint delicious thrill
That stirs us when Heaven’s cisterns overfill,
Droppings of comfort some near love had planned.
Death brings them nearer to us: human sense,
Earth-dulled, is all the barrier that hides
The adjacent country where each one abides;
And we shall wonder, when we too pass hence,
Our hearts were thwarted by so frail a fence,
And could not break the weak wall that divides.
(H/T to Phil at Blue Eyed Ennisfor bringing us the poem and the Bosch illustration)
(Links to prayers and reflections for the month of November)
For many reasons, the holidays are a difficult time for many people.
For those who are grieving the loss of a loved one, Thanksgiving and Christmas (especially the "first" of each) can be particularly hard to experience. Nothing can make these moments easy but prayer can offer a path to walk through these days with greater peace and even opportunities for healing.
I'm posting this prayer a week before Thanksgiving because it might help to sit with it for a while, to pray it over several days.
Some might find it helpful to use a prayer like this as the blessing before Thanksgiving Day dinner. Others might find it helpful to pray it alone, or to share copies of it with other family members and friends.
The Lord was a man well acquainted with grief: no stranger was he to a broken heart. He is with us in our pain as surely as he is with those whom he has welcomed to his arms of peace.
In those same everlasting arms he gathers us this Thanksgiving...
Dear God,
There is an empty chair at our table, an ache in our hearts and tears on our faces.
We may try to shield one another from the grief we bear but we cannot hide it from you.
We pray for (names) whose presence we miss in these homecoming days.
Open our eyes and our hearts to the healing and warmth of the light of your presence.
Assure us, Lord, that those we miss have a place at your table and a home in your heart as well as in ours.
Open our hearts to joyful memories of the love we shared with those who have gone before us.
Help us tell the stories that make the past present and bring us close to those we miss.
Teach us to lean on each other and on you, Lord, for the strength we need to walk through difficult times.
Give us quiet moments with you, with our thoughts, with our memories and prayers.
Be with us, Lord, and hold us in your arms even as you hold those whom we miss.
This is the day you have made, Lord: help us to rejoice in it and in the promise of your peace.
Every Monday you'll find a Morning Offering prayer under the rising sun and a fresh cup of coffee. Stop by and pray with us! (Click on the coffee cup above to find an archive of previous Monday Morning Offerings)
Word for the Weekend
Click on the bible above to find the scrIipture readings and commentary on them for the Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time - February 5
Catholics Come Home
The only thing I have to do in this life is get to heaven and take as many people with me as I can. -Tom Flatley
Help for Haiti
Reach out to the people of Haiti with health care, education and community development through the St. Boniface Haiti Foundation.
