The Grace of a Rocky Advent

I look forward to Advent every year. It is one of my favorite liturgical seasons. I’ve written before on the stillness and peace that this time of year brings with it.

This year, that stillness has been harder than ever to find. From what I understand, we have just as much (if not more!) COVID running around the planet as before, but society is simply done with it. Everybody is out shopping, decorating, and doing all those other things that people do to get ready for Christmas. Hopefully, all these people are doing some sort of spiritual practice to prepare for our annual celebration of the Nativity of Jesus Christ so that they’re ready inside as well as out.

Perhaps it is because the last year and a half have been unnaturally slow, but this Advent feels more frantic and disconnected than usual. Perhaps it’s the weather, which waffles between beautiful and somewhat chilly. Perhaps it’s all the usual things happening this year that didn’t last. Perhaps it’s the virus hanging over my head. Perhaps it’s all the fights and arguments and division sown in the last year which has leached into our faith. Perhaps it’s just that I’m older or just tired. But I’ve struggled this year to connect with Advent.

My natural response in times like this is to ask, “what do I need to be doing differently?” The problem is, I’ve already done that. I’ve made some good changes. They’ve helped. But I still feel off. So what’s the issue?

It’s hard to say where it is, but when we’ve run out of answers, the only place we can reasonably turn is to God. We must put our faith in him, trusting that he can save us from sin and death. We must put our hope in him, believing that he will choose to save us. We must love him, valuing him more than any other prize. Finally, we must trust that God will give us the grace we need. As long as we continue to turn to our heavenly Father, with all of our weaknesses and struggles and frustrations, we can trust that he will give us grace sufficient to overcome any obstacle. Even an Advent that feels a little disconnected.

Because let’s face it: no matter how rough Advent might seem to be, this season is meant to orient us toward Jesus Christ. Perhaps this year, he’s simply orienting me to trust him a little bit more and me a little bit less.

The Eucharist is God

The Eucharist is God. That’s amazing!

Homily for the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Our Lord Jesus Christ, 2021.

God Reveals Himself to All

God invites all of us to come to him.

Homily for Epiphany, 2021

God Reveals Himself to All

I don’t know how we’ve already arrived at Epiphany. The wise men must have been sprinting to Bethlehem this year!

The name for today’s feast, Epiphany, tells us that today we celebrate the manifestation or revelation of something terribly important. Traditionally, the three different revelations of Christ we celebrate on this day are the visit of the Magi, the Baptism of Christ, and the Wedding at Cana. In each of these three events, Jesus is revealed as the Christ.

Today, though, let’s look at the visit of the Magi. These men, certainly well-off if they were undertaking a journey, saw a star in the sky and were led to Jerusalem, which from ages past had been called to be a light to the nations. The magi, upon arriving in Jerusalem, perhaps were shocked to find so little recognition of the amazing event that had just happened. Nevertheless, these men, the Gentiles, had enough faith to persevere and eventually come to the home of the Holy Family, to pay homage to a child, and to offer him gold for his royalty, frankincense for his divinity, and myrrh for his mortality.

Recall, now, the visit of the Shepherds on Christmas night. A choir of angels appeared to them. They took a risk and went to visit the Christ-child. They paid him homage. While they had no gifts to offer him, it was fitting that the True Shepherd was greeted on his arrival in this world by shepherds.

These two very different visits to the Christ-child teach us many things, but if we look at them together, we learn even more.

What was it that brought the shepherds? A choir of angels. A supernatural gift from God.
What was it that brought the magi? A star. A natural phenomenon, yes, but no less a gift from God.

The shepherds were able to get there in a single night.
The magi, most likely, took much longer to travel to Christ. Perhaps a year or two.

The Jewish shepherds were unlearned men, not particularly watching for signs of a savior.
The Eastern magi were highly educated, watching the sky every night for signs.

We see all of these differences, and yet God still was able to lead both groups to himself. God can work through special gifts, or through the simple graces of nature. Nature, if we study it with pure hearts and a desire for truth, will certainly reveal its creator. God can work quickly on our hearts, or he can lead us on an extended journey. Either way, our faith grows strong. God wants all of us for himself: whether we are uneducated or educated, whether we are Christian or not, whether we are Catholic or not, whether we are looking for him or would only notice if a literal choir of angels showed up to tell us.

On this feast of Epiphany, we rejoice in the revelation of Christ’s glory to us. Let us also remember that God reveals his glory to us every day of our lives. May we stay close to him in prayer so that when he speaks to us—in whatever he desires—we might be listening.

Today’s Readings:
January 3, 2021
Epiphany, Year B
Isaiah 60:1-6; Psalm 72:1-2, 7-8, 10-11, 12-13; Ephesians 3:2-3a, 5-6; Matthew 2:1-12

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