Deacon Peter

On Groundhog Day

(Mal.3:1-4; Heb.2:14-18; Lk.2:22-40)

Today, February 2^nd, is the Feast of the Presentation of Our Lord in the Temple.  Many years ago, it was known as Candlemas and it was the Church’s day for the blessing of candles. 

In the United States and Canada, today is also called Groundhog Day.  This is a folkloric tradition that grew out of Candlemas, which itself marks the mid-point between the northern winter and spring.  On Groundhog Day, a groundhog’s shadow is used to predict the weather, but I’ll come back to that shortly. ^[i] 

In today’s Gospel, Mary and Joseph go to the Temple in Jerusalem.  The Law of Moses required every mother to undergo ritual purification and to present her child for consecration to God, 40 days after giving birth (Ex.13:1-2; Lev.12). 

As the Holy Family enter the Temple, they find Simeon and Anna waiting for them inside.  The Holy Spirit long before had promised Simeon that he would not die before he’d seen the Christ, the Messiah. So, for years he and the prophetess Anna waited patiently.  When baby Jesus finally does arrive, Simeon is overjoyed.  He holds Jesus in his arms and he prays his famous prayer Nunc Dimittis: ‘Now, Master, you can let your servant go in peace, just as you promised…’

This story reveals so much about the character of these saints.  Simeon, Anna and the Holy Family are all Spirit-filled and very devout in the practice of their faith. They’re also humble, obedient and patient, and they trust God completely.  Life may be hard, but they’re happy.

Now, let’s compare them to Phil Connors, the actor Bill Murray’s character in the movie Groundhog Day (1993). He’s a cranky TV weatherman who goes to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, to report on the annual Groundhog Day festival.

We soon learn that he’s an obnoxious and self-centred narcissist.  ‘People are morons’, he tells his producer Rita. He can’t wait to return home, but a snowstorm forces him and his film crew to stay.

The next morning, Phil’s alarm clock wakes him up and he’s appalled to discover that it’s Groundhog Day all over again.  He’s caught in a strange time-loop, and he has to relive this day over and over and over again.

Every day, every little action is repeated, from meeting an old school friend in the same place at the same time, to stepping into an icy pothole.  His life becomes incredibly monotonous, but he’s the only one who notices.

At first he’s amused, but then he becomes bored and then he despairs. He hates his repetitive life so much that he even tries to commit suicide.  But he’s always back the next day.

It becomes clear that what’s important in this story isn’t the groundhog’s shadow, but his own.  At one point in the film, one of the townsfolk says to Phil, ‘Watch out for your shadow there, pal!’  It’s his shadow side that’s condemning him to this endless cycle of emptiness.  It’s his sinfulness and bad behaviour that are holding him back and making him unhappy.  He’s trapped in darkness.

It’s only when Phil opens his heart that things begin to change.  He starts noticing Rita, his producer.  He’s attracted to her and her happy outlook, and he finds himself inspired by her to do good things. He makes friends, he rescues a homeless man and he even starts learning music and poetry.

It’s only when Phil genuinely discovers love that time starts to move forward for him.  That’s when he wakes up to find that it’s February 3^rd and he’s been given new life.

The movie Groundhog Day is a parable about life.  It’s full of lessons about the state of our hearts and whether we choose to live in the light or in the shadows.

The elderly Simeon and Anna in Luke’s Gospel also lived predictable and monotonous lives.  For years they went to the Temple every day, waiting for Jesus to arrive.  But what made them quite different to Phil was their deep faith.  The Holy Spirit had filled their hearts with hope, and when Jesus arrives they’re overwhelmed with joy.

Just like Jesus, we’ve all had our own official Presentation.  This happened at our Baptism, when we were presented and consecrated to God and given a candle lit from the Paschal candle.  At that moment, the priest or deacon said, ‘You have been enlightened by Christ. Walk always as a child of the light and keep the flame of faith alive in your heart…’

This light, this flame of faith and love, is the difference between a dreary repetitive existence and a life of meaning, purpose and joy.

So, the question for you today is this: 

Is this flame still burning inside you?  Or are you just living the same old life over and over and over again?

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[i] By way of background, midseason weather predictions were important to European farmers. An old English song rhymed: ‘If Candlemas be fair and bright, / Come, Winter, have another flight. / If Candlemas brings clouds and rain, / Go, Winter, and come not again’.  In other words, if the bright sun ‘overshadows’ the brightness of Candlemas Day, more winter is expected. But if the light of Candlemas Day outshines the season’s gloom and darkness, then spring is near. In 1887, German immigrants adapted this tradition in the US to create Groundhog Day. Not surprisingly, the weather predictions are notoriously unreliable.

On Leaving Our Nets Behind

(Is.8:23-9:3; 1Cor.1:10-1,17; Mt.4:12-23)

King Herod Antipas, who ruled Galilee, was ruthless.  He thought that John the Baptist was a threat to his power because he was so popular.  So he had him gaoled. [i]

Jesus grieves when he hears this.  John is his cousin, and he’s done a great job giving hope to so many people who have lived in darkness and despair under the Romans.  But now that John’s voice has been silenced, Jesus must take over.  It’s his turn to start proclaiming the kingdom of God. 

Jesus knows this is a huge task, so he starts looking for help.  He isn’t looking for prominent or well-educated disciples, however.  He wants ordinary people living ordinary lives, and he’s going to invite them to do extraordinary things.

Near Capernaum, by the Sea of Galilee, he sees two sets of brothers: Peter and Andrew, and James and John – all fishermen.  Jesus says, ‘come follow me; I will make you fishers of men’.  They all promptly drop their nets and follow him. 

Now, why do these fishermen so quickly agree to leave their nets behind?  It’s because they already know Jesus. They’ve been following John the Baptist and they’ve started to believe in Jesus as the Messiah. [ii] They’re ready for a change.

So these first disciples drop their nets. They walk away from the safety and security of their jobs and homes, and they start living new lives. 

Today, Jesus is calling us to do the same.  Not necessarily to leave our jobs and homes, of course, but he does want us to follow him.  In fact, he’s constantly calling on us to do this through the ordinary events of our daily lives.  And if we’re interested, we must be prepared to let go of anything that gets in the way.  

Sometimes, to move forward, we have to take a step back.

Everyone who wants to follow Jesus has to leave something behind.  You can’t live a new life by hanging on to the old one.  This letting go is sometimes called Detachment.  

Detachment doesn’t mean withdrawing totally from the world, because God loves our world and Jesus wants to heal it (Jn.3:16).  But before we can help Jesus make this world a better place, we must first change ourselves.

This means we must let some things go (Rom.12:2).

Too many Christians, however, are only lukewarm about their call.  They don’t want to be inconvenienced.  They don’t want to change.  So they drag their nets along after them and sometimes they get tangled up in them.  

Joseph Krempa says the problem is that we want the kingdom without changing ourselves.  ‘It’s like those who want the meal, but not the cooking; who want the grades but not the study; who want health, but not exercise; who want the salary, but not the work’.

We want all the benefits of God – the peace, the forgiveness, the growth in grace, and the sense of belonging to a spiritual community, but we don’t want to give up the nets, the entanglements that trap us, that hold us back… These are the people, the relationships and the obsessions that separate us from Christ.

‘We don’t want to give up gossiping, cutting corners, wrong relationships, immoral behaviour, habits of arrogance, rash judgments or addictions.  So we try to have it both ways, but we can’t.  Those nets weigh us down and hold us tight.’ 

All these entanglements distort our soul and mind and heart and keep us away from Jesus. [iii]

St. John of the Cross tells us that a bird tied down to earth can’t fly; it doesn’t matter if it’s tied with a thread or a rope.  An attachment is still an attachment, no matter how great or how small. Some are greater than others, but they all impede our progress.

So, if we want this new life, where do we start?  We should start with our minds.  Everything in us begins with the way we think.  There’s a wise maxim that says:

Watch over your thoughts because they become words. Watch over your words because they become actions.
Watch over your actions because they become habits.
Watch over your habits because they become your character.
Watch over your character because it becomes your destiny. [iv]

So, begin by praying to Jesus, asking him to help you.  Ask him to help you identify the things that are holding you back; the things you really need to let go.  Tell Jesus that you accept his call, and that you want to become a good disciple. 

Tell him that you’re serious about changing your life for the better.

What nets are you trapped in?   

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[i] Josephus, Antiquities of the Jews. Book 18, chapter 5.2

[ii] http://w2.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/angelus/2017/documents/papa-francesco_angelus_20170122.html

[iii] S Joseph Krempa, Captured Fire – Cycle A. St Paul’s, New York. 2005:73.

[iv] https://aleteia.org/2018/02/23/why-we-should-detach-from-the-good-world-god-made-cantalamessas-1st-lent-homily/

On Breaking Our Fall

(Is.49:3,5-6; 1Cor.1:1-3; Jn.1:29-34)

In Madrid’s Prado Museum there’s a painting called Agnus Dei (‘Lamb of God’) by the Spanish painter Francisco de Zurbarán (1598-1664).  It depicts a young lamb on a grey slab, set against a black wall.  Its legs are tied and it’s ready to be sacrificed.

This powerful and confronting image symbolises the ministry of Jesus Christ.  But where does it come from and what does it mean?

To answer that we have to go back to ancient times, when many cultures worshipped God through animal sacrifice. They believed they were unworthy to approach God without first sacrificing something they considered valuable. So the Jewish people used to sacrifice lambs, but also bulls, sheep, goats, doves and even grains.

When the ancient Israelites were enslaved in Egypt, God heard their cry for freedom and at the Burning Bush he asked Moses to secure their release. But Pharaoh refused, so God sent a succession of plagues to soften his resistance.

Just before the final plague, God instructed every Jewish family to sacrifice a lamb and to paint its blood on their door posts.  This was culturally appropriate for the time, and it helped the Angel of Death to identify and ‘pass over’ their homes. Only then did Pharaoh allow them to leave (Ex.12:1-27).

Those sacrificed lambs meant new life for the Jewish people, as they journeyed from slavery to freedom in the Promised Land. They have been celebrating their ‘Passover’ ever since. [i]

The Gospel of John, from which today’s Gospel reading comes, often alludes to the Passover.  It begins with John the Baptist announcing Jesus’ arrival to his disciples: ‘Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!’  And it ends with Jesus being crucified at the very same time that the lambs are slaughtered in the nearby Temple.

John’s message to us is clear:  Jesus is the ultimate and perfect Lamb of God.

Now, the problem with the Law of Moses and its prescriptions for animal sacrifice is that the people never changed.  They just continued living their sinful lives (Heb.10:4; Rom.8:3). 

A new, more effective, approach was required, so God sent his only Son to live among us, to teach us how to live.  He taught us that selfless love is the only necessary form of sacrifice.  But sadly, it resulted in his crucifixion. 

Why did Jesus die on the Cross?  It wasn’t because God demanded a blood offering.  Not at all. Jesus sacrificed himself because that is the essence of true love (Phil.2:5-8).  We know from our own experience that we cannot truly love others without making sacrifices.  And losing our life for the sake of another is the supreme test of love (1Jn.3:16-18; Eph.5:1-2).  That’s why Jesus died.

The Franciscan theologian Richard Rohr writes: ‘In the Hebrew tradition, the Passover lamb was a perfect, unblemished sheep or goat that apparently lived in the family home for four days before it was sacrificed (Ex.12:1-8). That’s just long enough for the children to fall in love with the lamb’. 

The innocent lamb, he says, symbolises not only the innocent Christ, but also the illusion of our innocent selves.  We must shed this false image if we are to grow spiritually, so it is precisely the beloved and innocent ‘lamb’ that must die.

Rohr adds that we must accept that we’re all complicit and profiting from the corporate ‘sin of the world’ and no one is pure or innocent. [ii]

We know that our world is full of sin, violence and corruption.  And we know that in the end our world cannot promise us anything other than the dark emptiness of death.   

But Jesus wants so much more for us (Jn.10:10).  That’s why he showed us how to live a life of love, even to the point of making the ultimate sacrifice.  And it’s incredibly significant that he also rose again to new life. 

Jesus’ selfless act is actually the new Passover from death to life: for him and for us all.

In Werden, Germany, there’s a church with a statue of a lamb on the roof. During its construction, a stonemason fell from the scaffolding.  His co-workers thought he’d died, but he survived. Some sheep had been passing below the tower and a lamb had broken his fall.   That lamb died, but the man was saved. 

In gratitude for saving his life, the stonemason carved a statue of the lamb and placed it on the tower. [iii]

If it weren’t for Jesus’ self-sacrifice, we too would be falling into oblivion.  Without Jesus, there’s no escape from sin, there’s no escape from death. 

The perfect Lamb of God however has broken our fall.  Jesus has saved us.

But – only if we have faith and follow in his way.

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[i] https://www.chabad.org/holidays/passover/pesach_cdo/aid/1827/jewish/The-Passover-Story-in-a-Nutshell.htm

[ii] Richard Rohr, Doing the Victim Thing Right. https://cac.org/doing-the-victim-thing-right-2019-04-16/

[iii] https://www.frtommylane.com/stories/cross_of_Jesus/Lamb_of_God.htm

On a Name Like No Other

(Is.42:1-4,6-7; Acts 10:34-38; Mt.3:13-17)

‘What’s in a name?’ Juliet asks in Shakespeare’s famous play. She loves Romeo, but their families are at war.

Names are just an arbitrary tag, Juliet thinks.  She loves the man, not his moniker: ‘A rose by any other name would smell as sweet’, she says. ^[i]  But are our names so unimportant?

The German poet Goethe (1749-1832) once wrote: ‘A man’s name is not like a mantle which merely hangs about him, and which one perchance may safely twitch and pull, but a perfectly fitting garment, which, like the skin, has grown over and over him, at which one cannot rake and scrape without injuring the man himself.’ [ii]

Our names serve many purposes.  They distinguish us from others, they bind us to history, and they underpin our identity and personality. And a good name is especially valuable, for it reflects integrity and it earns trust (Prov.22:1). 

But to lose one’s name can be a wretched thing.  Jean Valjean, in Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables, feels degraded when he’s called ‘24601’ in prison.[iii]  And David Pelzer, in his memoir A Child Called It, finds it dehumanising when his abusive mother starts calling him ‘The Boy’ and ‘It’ when he’s only four. [iv]

Names, however, can also give new life.  In Genesis, God renames Abram and Sarai. They become Abraham and Sarah, the ‘father and mother of many nations’ (Gen.17:5, 15).  God also gives Jacob (meaning ‘cheat’) a new identity.  He becomes Israel (‘struggles with God and prevails’), reflecting his new role as patriarch of the Israelites (Gen.32:28).

And Jesus gives Simon a new name (Jn.1:42), calling him Peter, ‘the rock on which I will build my church’ (Mt.16:18). 

In each case, God embeds his love, and their special mission, in their names. 

Today, as we celebrate the baptism of Jesus Christ, we remember that every baptism starts with the question: ‘What name do you give your child?’  This sacrament is essentially about our identity.  It’s about who we are, and who we will become. 

Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan River marks a new beginning for him. He’s filled with the Holy Spirit and his Father announces: ‘This is my Son, the Beloved, in whom I am well pleased’.  At that moment, Jesus’ identity changes.

He’s no longer just the humble carpenter’s son.  He’s now the beloved Son of God, and this is the start of his public ministry.

Jesus’ name still sounds the same, but its essence has completely changed.  His mission – his life purpose – is now deeply embedded in his name.

And so it is with us.  At Baptism our identity changes, too.  We’re initiated into the life of Christ and we’re warmly welcomed as members of God’s holy family (Eph.1:5).  

And our mission is embedded in our name, as well.

Bishop Robert Barron says that one of the earliest descriptions of Baptism is vitae spiritualis ianua, which means ‘the door to the spiritual life’.

Christianity, he says, isn’t just about ‘becoming a good person’ or ‘doing the right thing’. Rather, to be a Christian is to be grafted onto Christ and hence drawn into the very dynamics of God’s inner life.  We become a member of his Mystical Body, sharing in his relationship to the Father. [v]

Pope Benedict XVI puts it this way.  He says that Baptism always repeats the last words of Jesus in the Gospels: ‘in the name of the Father, of the Son, of the Holy Spirit’ (Mt 28:19).  This expression in the Greek text is critical, he says, for it means an immersion into the name of the Trinity.  Baptism therefore leads to an ‘interpenetration of God’s being and our being, just like in marriage, when two persons become one flesh and a single new reality’ is formed.

Pope Benedict XVI adds that in the Scriptures, God calls himself ‘the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob’ (Gen.50:24; Ex.3:15). This is precisely what happens when we’re baptised, he says.  We become inserted into the name of God, so that we belong to his name and his name becomes our name, too, and we’re enabled to be a sign of who he is. ^[vi]

A name, then, is so much more than a label, especially after Baptism.  Each name tells a story and paves the way for a lifetime of noble purpose.

When we’re immersed in the waters of Baptism, we’re simultaneously immersed in the life of God.  We’re filled with his Holy Spirit and we emerge with a name like no other.  And embedded in it is our own special mission.

At his Baptism, Jesus knows that things have changed.  He goes into the desert for forty days to reflect on what it means and what God wants him to do next.

We should do the same.

So, what is your name? 

And what is your special mission?

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[i] William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, https://www.playshakespeare.com/romeo-and-juliet/scenes/301-act-ii-scene-2

[ii] http://quotation.cloud/johann-wolfgang-von-goethe-a-name-is-not-like-a-mantle/

[iii] Victor Hugo, Les Miserables, http://www.online-literature.com/victor_hugo/les_miserables/90/

[iv] https://www.amazon.com/Child-Called-Childs-Courage-Survive/dp/1558743669

[v] https://www.wordonfire.org/resources/homily/vitae-spiritualis-ianua/

[vi] http://www.vatican.va/content/benedict-xvi/en/speeches/2012/june/documents/hf_ben-xvi_spe_20120611_convegno-ecclesiale.html

On a Light in the Darkness

[Is.60:1-6; Eph.3:2-3, 5-6; Mt.2:1-12]

Today we celebrate the Epiphany of Our Lord. In common parlance, an epiphany is a moment of sudden awakening.  It’s a moment of clarity when a light shines in the darkness and we see something new.

The Feast of the Epiphany, however, is much more than that.  It’s the celebration of the revelation that Jesus is the Messiah – God-made-man – and the visit of the Wise Men from the East is his first appearance to the Gentiles.  It reveals that Jesus’ mission is not just to the Jewish people, but also to the whole world. 

Pope Benedict says that these Magi represent a new beginning for humanity, as people start journeying towards Christ.  This is a procession, he says, that has continued all through history. [i]

But, he adds, although ‘twenty centuries have passed since that mystery was revealed, it has not yet reached fulfilment, (for) an overall view of the human race shows that this mission is still only beginning’. ^[ii]

God has always loved us (Ps.136), so how is it that Jesus’ mission is only just starting?  Matthew’s Gospel today helps us to understand.  It reveals that people tend to respond to Jesus in one of three ways – but sadly, only one is positive. 

The first response is fear.  When the Wise Men ask Herod where the infant King of the Jews might be, he feels threatened.  The Romans then were at war with the Parthian Empire, and the previous king of Judea, Antigonus, was a Parthian ally. The Romans had him executed and had Herod replace him. 

Herod knows that the Magi come from Parthia, and he fears for his throne.  So he feigns interest in their search, but secretly he plans to kill Jesus.  When the Magi fail to return, he has every infant boy in Bethlehem slaughtered (Mt.2:16).

This fear of Jesus and his message continues today.  We see it in the Middle East, China and elsewhere, where intolerant regimes persecute Christians.  We see it in some organisations and individuals, too.  Whether it’s fear of the unknown, fear of change or fear of the truth, they’re hostile towards Jesus.

The second response to Jesus is indifference, and we see this in the priests and scribes.  When Herod asks where the infant king might be, they know it’s Bethlehem because they know their Scripture. 

The Jewish people had been searching for the Messiah since Moses first prophesied his coming (Deut.18:15), and Micah even foretold where to find him (Mic.5:2).  So why don’t these religious leaders go to Bethlehem themselves?  After all, it’s only 9 km (6 miles) from Jerusalem.  

It’s because they are too proud and too self-important to bother.  Many people are like this today.  They’ll only accept Jesus on their own terms.  I once asked a young woman if she was Catholic.  She replied, ‘Oh no. I don’t belong to any church. I won’t join any until I find one that agrees with everything I believe.’

Some people don’t want to be challenged.  They don’t want to change, even if it’s for the better.

The third response to Jesus is adoration. In ancient Israel shepherds were outcast because their work was dirty and Jewish society was obsessed with cleanliness. However, when they hear that the Saviour has come for all people, and not just for the few, they rush to welcome and adore him (Lk.2:1-20).

The Magi, too, adore Jesus.  They traverse vast deserts and brave enemy lands to find him.  As St. John Baptist de La Salle said, ‘They feared nothing, because the faith which inspired them… caused them to forget and even scorn all human considerations…’ ^[iii]

Like the shepherds, the Wise Men can see what Herod and the religious leaders cannot: that Jesus is the Son of God who came to save us (Lk.19:10; Mk.2:17; Is.49:16). They realise that to experience Jesus is to know God personally.

Martin Luther King Jr once said, ‘We may feel at times that we don’t need God, but then one day the storms of disappointment will begin to rage and if we don’t have a deep and patient faith our emotional lives will be ripped to shreds.  This is why there’s so much frustration in the world.

‘We’re relying on gods rather than God.  We’ve genuflected before the god of science, only to find that it has given the atomic bomb, producing fears that science can never mitigate. We’ve worshipped the god of pleasure, only to discover that thrills play out and sensations are short-lived. We’ve bowed before the god of money only to learn that in a world of possible depressions, money is a rather uncertain deity.

‘These transitory gods cannot save or bring happiness to the human heart,’ he said. ‘Only God is able. It’s faith in him that we must rediscover.’ [iv]

A light is shining in the darkness right now, and Jesus’ manifestation forces us to choose. 

What is your response?  Is it fear? 

Indifference? 

Or adoration?

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[i] Joseph Ratzinger, Pope Benedict XVI, Jesus of Nazareth: The Infancy Narratives. Image: New York. 2012:89.

[ii] http://www.vatican.va/content/benedict-xvi/en/homilies/2007/documents/hf_ben-xvi_hom_20070106_epifania.html

[iii] https://lasallianresources.org/news/the-feast-of-the-epiphany/

[iv] https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu/king-papers/documents/draft-chapter-xiii-our-god-able

On Michelangelo’s Holy Family

(Sir.3:2-6, 12-14; Col.3:12-21; Matt.2:13-15, 19-23)

Today is Holy Family Sunday, so let’s take a moment to reflect on Michelangelo’s famous painting of The Holy Family. [i]  It’s also known as the Doni Tondo [ii] and you’ll find it in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence.

This is the only finished panel painted by Michelangelo (1475–1564) that’s still in existence.  It’s round (‘rotondo’) and 120 cm in diameter.  Michelangelo finished it shortly before he started painting the Sistine Chapel in 1508. 

Look closely.  It shows Jesus, Mary and Joseph sitting in a field.  They are a close and loving family, but Mary is the central figure here because it’s through her that God worked his miracle of the virgin birth.  

Mary appears young and athletic, while her husband Joseph seems older and wiser.  He’s squatting down and cradling Mary between his legs.  He seems to be embracing her with all his love and protection. 

Mary has a book on her lap; it represents the Word of God.  She’s also sitting on the grass, and this shows that she’s very down-to-earth. But it also tells us that it is Mary who connects the earth with Jesus, the child she’s holding up high. 

Baby Jesus is being passed between Mary and Joseph.  We can’t say who’s passing Jesus to whom, but it’s clear that they share equally in his parenting.  It’s clear that they both adore him.

Jesus is being held up high against the heavenly skies, where he comes from.  This elevation reminds us of the Body of Christ being raised up high in the Holy Eucharist.  At the same time, Jesus is being offered as a gift to us all. 

Joseph is higher in the frame than Jesus and Mary. This tells us that he leads this family.  He’s the protector, the breadwinner and the most senior member. 

Now, notice their heads.  Together they form an inverted triangle that points to the earth.  It also reflects the inseparable communion of the Holy Trinity.  And look at their eyes: there’s a deep intimacy there.  Joseph’s eyes are firmly fixed on Jesus, while Jesus looks at his mother and Mary lovingly returns his gaze.  This is the most tender group of figures Michelangelo ever painted. [iii]

Behind the Holy Family is a low grey wall, and to the right is a child. That’s John the Baptist, Jesus’ cousin and the patron saint of Florence. He’s wearing camel hair, he’s holding a long stick and he’s standing in a pool of water.  That stick, or cane, is a reference to the Crucifixion.

John is also looking straight at Jesus because he knows that their destinies are linked.  One day he’ll be preparing the way for the Lord.

Further back, there are five naked figures sitting on a stone wall.  They seem self-obsessed and they don’t even notice Jesus or his family. These figures represent our pagan world and they’re separated from the Holy Family by that grey wall which symbolises original sin.

Now, look at the flora.  In front of John the Baptist there’s a small plant which looks like a cross between a hyssop and a cornflower.  Hyssop represents baptism and the humility of Christ, while the cornflower symbolises heaven.

In the foreground, the clover represents salvation and the Trinity, and the anemone plant symbolises faith and the Passion of Christ, which is still to come. 

The central focus of this painting, however, is the Holy Family, and their rich fabrics and vivid colours highlight the beauty and the joy of the Christian life.

The colour purple indicates that Joseph comes from the royal line of David.  The golden yellow represents truth and the presence of God.  The pink stands for love and tenderness.  Mary’s blue mantle represents peace and tranquillity, and the green speaks of nature, health and growth.

So, let’s summarise. Starting from the back of this painting, Michelangelo is reminding us that we all live in a pagan and materialistic world that’s really going nowhere. 

He’s telling us that if we want a deeper and more meaningful life – and, indeed, eternal life – then we need to come forward and leave our lives of sin behind.  We need to pass through the waters of Baptism and consciously accept the Word of God.   Only then we can live as members of God’s holy family. ^{[iv] [v] [vi]}

The Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph, then, is being offered to us today as the ideal model for our own daily lives.

Now, have you noticed that Mary is pointing to you?  Look at her right elbow.  Her hands are busy, but through her arm she’s drawing us towards Jesus and she’s inviting us to enter into their beautiful life.

We, too, can live like the Holy Family.

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[i] The Holy Family, tempera on wood, by Michelangelo, 1506/08; in the Uffizi Gallery, Florence.

[ii] It is known as the Doni Tondo, because it was commissioned by Agnolo Doni, a wealthy merchant, and it is round (‘rotondo’).

[iii] https://www.italian-renaissance-art.com/Doni-Tondo.html

[iv] https://www.christianart.today/daily-gospel-reading/91

[v] http://giorgionetempesta.com/?page_id=224

[vi] https://www.theartist.me/collection/oil-painting/doni-tondo/

On the Baby Asleep on the Hay

(Isa.62:1-5; Acts 13:16-17, 22-25; Mt.1:18-25)

Merry Christmas!  Today we celebrate God’s remarkable gift to each one of us.  That gift is Jesus, and he’s being offered to us right now as a baby asleep on the hay. 

This gift is like no other.  Why?  It’s because Jesus is the Prince of Peace who shows us how to live a life of meaning and love.  And he’s the Light of the World who promises us eternal life.  No other present even comes close!

Through the ages, millions of people have accepted this marvellous gift of Jesus and found their lives transformed.  And they have happily shared his story with their family and friends.

But the world has changed, and in many places today you have to look hard to find any reminder of the real Christmas. Sure, there are lots of Santas and Christmas trees and decorations around.  But in many homes and communities now, there’s no mention of Jesus or the Holy Family at all.

It’s sad, because many people have forgotten what Christmas actually means.

Today, I have a story for you, written by Jo Fiore, one of our wonderful parishioners.  It’s about a young boy who lines up for a photo with Santa Claus.  And while he waits with his mother, he sees a beautiful picture in a shop window.

As they waited in line for a photo, and the last minute shoppers rushed by,
A picture displayed in a window attracted the little one’s eye. And he called to his mother, ‘Mum, come look and see! There’s a baby asleep on some hay!
There’s a lady, a man, some shepherds and sheep, and three kings with gifts on the way!’

And the questions poured out, ‘Mum, who is this baby, and do you know his sweet name?
And when was He born, and where did He live, and does anyone know why He came?’
The child’s mother paused, remembering a time when the questions she’d asked were the same.
Her own mother’s words gently came to her mind, and memories lit up like a flame.

‘The name of the baby is Jesus; He came to save people on earth.
He was born in a stable in Bethlehem and at Christmas we honour His birth.
That’s Mary and Joseph right there at His side. See the shepherds bow down to adore.
The Magi bring gifts only fit for a king, and the angels sing ‘Peace evermore.’

He came to show how God loves us, and to teach us the way we should live.
To be kind to all others and if we are hurt, how we should quickly forgive.
The little one looked at his mother, and he noticed a tear in her eye.
‘You’ve never told me that story before, Mum. It makes me feel happy. Don’t cry!’

They lined up again to see Santa, who greeted them both with a smile.
‘And what would you like for Christmas, young man?’ The little one thought for a while.
‘Well, I don’t need any more presents, and I don’t need any more toys,
But I’d like you to pass on a message, to all of the world’s girls and boys.

Can you tell them that in that far corner, there’s something the whole world should see?
And maybe if they paid a visit, they too can be happy, like me!
Can they each ask their mother and father, to tell them the story today,
The story my mother just told me, about Jesus asleep on the hay.

This year, let’s teach our children the real story of the first Christmas, for this is our story, too! 

And let’s make sure they understand all the signs and symbols that are around us at this time of year:

The Christmas Tree, the Star, the Wreath and Candles, the Bells, the Angels, the Shepherds and their Sheep, the Wise Men with their Gifts, Mary and Joseph, and the Baby Asleep on the Hay.

They all mean something very special.

Especially the Baby Asleep on the Hay!

Merry Christmas!

On Emmanuel

(Isa.7:10-14; Rom.1:1-7; Mt.1.18-24)

At Christmas we often sing ‘O Come, O Come, Emmanuel’. This ancient carol refers to Isaiah’s prophecy about a virgin giving birth to a son who will be called Emmanuel (Is.7:14).

In today’s Gospel, Matthew repeats these words as he tells the story of Jesus’ birth. He wants us to know that Jesus is Emmanuel, the fulfilment of Isaiah’s prediction.

Why, then, don’t we just call Jesus Emmanuel?

The reason is the angel Gabriel’s instruction to Joseph, ‘You shall name him Jesus’ (Mt.1:21; Lk.1:31). Jesus is his given name, but the name Emmanuel still applies in the same way that some 200 other names and titles have been ascribed to him in Scripture, including Word of God, Bread of Life, Light of the World, Living Water, Prince of Peace and Good Shepherd. Each of these names describes a different aspect of Jesus’ identity and work in our world.

Indeed, the name Emmanuel encapsulates all these other titles, because it means ‘God is with us’. And considered together, they all mean the same as Jesus, which means ‘God saves’.

God sent his only Son to live among us, to show us how to live and how to love (Jn.3:16; 10:10). Sadly, we too often forget this and we treat God as a remote figure who abandons us to our struggles. But the essential message of Christmas, and indeed of all Scripture, is that God is always with us and he really does care.

In the Old Testament, God promised Abraham and his descendants, ‘I will be with you, and I will bless you’ (Gen.12:1-3). Abraham’s grandson Jacob wasn’t so sure, however. So God replied to him in a dream, saying, ‘Jacob, I am with you and I will watch over you wherever you go’. When Jacob woke up he thought, ‘Surely God is in this place and I didn’t know it’ (Gen.28:15-16).

When the Israelites wandered through the wilderness, they also asked if God was with them (Ex.17:7). He was, of course, and he gave them many signs, including water and food and he even parted the waters for them.

And in our First Reading today, King Ahaz of Judah is in trouble and he, too, doubts God’s presence. But Isaiah encourages him to trust in God, and he promises that God will send a sign in the form of a child who will be called Emmanuel, for God is always with us (Is.7:13-14).

This is the whole point of Christmas. It’s a reminder of God’s living promise that he’s always with us, in the good times and in the bad. And he’s certainly with us right now.

Avery Dulles SJ said, ‘The incarnation does not provide us with a ladder by which to escape from the ambiguities of life and scale the heights of heaven. Rather, it enables us to burrow deep into the heart of planet earth and find it shimmering with divinity.’  ^[i]

We won’t see God walking through our door, but his spirit will always be around us (Jn.14:16). That’s the important thing about our Christian faith, for ours is a spiritual life. God is Spirit, and for us to live in his presence we need to live spiritually. This means we need to use our minds, our hearts and our wills to establish a meaningful relationship with him. [ii]

In 2015, in Madison Square Garden, Pope Francis said that one special quality of God’s people is their ability to see, even in ‘moments of darkness’, the light which Christ brings.

God’s faithful people, he said, can recognise God’s living presence in the midst of life, in the midst of the city. For Jesus is Emmanuel, the God who walks alongside us and gets involved in our lives, in our homes and in the midst of our ‘pots and pans’. [iii]

When the Dutch writer Corrie ten Boom (1892-1983) was a little girl, her father used to tuck her into bed at night. He talked and prayed with her, and laid his big hand on her little face. Later, as an adult, when she was imprisoned in a Nazi concentration camp, she asked God to tuck her in and lay his hand on her face. ‘That would bring me peace, and I would be able to sleep,’ she wrote. [iv]

Jesus was there with her. He helped Corrie survive the most awful of times.

When we actively live in God’s presence, we start to recognise all that he does for us. He encourages us (Josh.1:6), he strengthens us (Is.41:10), he comforts us (Jn.14:16-18), he protects us (Jer.15:20), he heals us (Jer.30:17), he provides for us (Ps.113:6-9) and he guides us through the darkness (Ex.13:21; 2 Sam.22:29).

What a remarkable gift Jesus is to us! He is Emmanuel, God-with-us.

This Christmas, let’s welcome Jesus with open arms.

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[i] https://ronrolheiser.com/incarnation-god-is-with-us/#.Xfn2Y-gzbIU

[ii] http://www.therealpresence.org/archives/Christian_Spirituality/Christian_Spirituality_005.htm

[iii] http://www.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/homilies/2015/documents/papa-francesco_20150925_usa-omelia-nyc.html

[iv] Corrie ten Boom, Each New Day. Revell, Grand Rapids, Michigan, 2013.

On Joy

(Isa.35:1-6a; Jas.5:7-10; Mt.11:2-11)

Today is Gaudete (Rejoice) Sunday. This is the day we heartily sing Joy to the World because we’re looking forward to Christmas. Jesus is coming!

But what is joy?

Some people say that joy is happiness. But Henri Nouwen says joy is much deeper than that. Happiness depends on what’s happening around you, but joy is internal. It’s ‘the experience of knowing that you’re unconditionally loved and that nothing … can take that love away from you’. [i]

Others say that joy is pleasure, like a magnificent meal. But C.S. Lewis says that pleasure is more like a substitute for joy. He says that what distinguishes joy from happiness or pleasure is a deep yearning for something agonisingly elusive. It’s the longing for a fulfilment yet to come. [ii]

The Greek word for joy is ‘chara’, which is how we react when we discover the work of God. ‘Chara’ is similar to another Greek word, ‘charis’, which means ‘grace’ or ‘gift’. Together, these words tell us that joy flows when we’re filled with the gift of God’s grace.

St Paul knew this, and that’s why he says that joy is one of the 12 fruits of the Spirit, along with peace and love (Gal.5:22-23). These fruits flow when the Holy Spirit lives in our hearts and we realise that God really is in control of our lives.

Pope St Paul VI once asked: ‘How is it that in our society, with all its wealth, clean water, readily available food, medical achievements and technological advancements – there’s so little joy?’

He says it’s because ‘we’re missing what joy really is’. Our ‘technological society has multiplied our opportunities for pleasure, but it has great difficulty in generating joy. That’s because joy comes from another source.’ [iii]

And what is that source? It’s God.

Some people say that joy means no sadness; that you can’t be both sad and glad at the same time. But Henri Nouwen disagrees. He says that sorrow and joy can exist together, and they are often contained within some of our deepest life experiences, such as witnessing the birth of a child or the death of a friend.

Rick Warren, the American pastor and author, says that we usually think that life comes in hills and valleys, but really it’s more like train tracks. Every day good things happen, bringing us pleasure and contentment and beauty.

But at the same time, painful things also happen, disappointing us, hurting us and filling us with sorrow. These two tracks – joy and sorrow – run parallel to each other all through our lives.

That’s why, he says, when we’re having an amazing experience, we often realise that it’s not perfect. And while we’re experiencing something painful, we realise that there’s still beauty and loveliness to be found. [iv]

Rick Warren says that when you look down train tracks towards the horizon, they become one, and that’s how it will be for us, too. One day, our parallel tracks of joy and sorrow will merge into one. It will all come together for us when we finally meet Jesus, and everything will start to make sense.

Someone once said that if you build a wall to keep out the sadness, you’ll also keep out the joy. They belong together.

But joy doesn’t simply happen. Henri Nouwen says nothing happens automatically in the spiritual life. We have to choose joy and keep choosing it every day. It’s a choice based on the knowledge that we belong to God and nothing, not even death, can take God away from us.

In 1945, before the Nazis executed him, Alfred Delp SJ was locked up in prison in Germany. The conditions were awful, but he still wrote, ‘every now and then my whole being is flooded with pulsating life and my heart can scarcely contain the delirious joy … Suddenly … my spirits soar again and there’s not a doubt in my mind that all God’s promises hold good’.

He was filled with joy because he chose to put his life in God’s hands. ‘That’s the point’, he wrote. [v] Our happiness is inextricably linked with God.

When we choose to accept God in our life, he opens our eyes to his grace and power in the world, and he fills us with joy (Rom.15:13).

So, here’s the message for today: joy doesn’t come from our secular world. It comes from God. And for our joy to be complete (1Jn.1:4), we must choose to accept him.

If you want real joy, put your life in God’s hands (Is.41:10; Jn.10:28).

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[i] Nouwen, H., Christensen, M.J & Laird, R. ‘The Heart of Henri Nouwen – His Words of Blessing’.  Crossroad Publishing, 2003.

[ii] CS Lewis, quoted in Terry Lindvall, Surprised by Laughter: The Comic World of CS Lewis. Thomas Nelson: Nashville, 1996, p.56.

[iii] Pope Paul VI, Gaudete in Domino (On Christian Joy), Apostolic Exhortation, 1975.

[iv] https://relevantmagazine.com/current/first-word-two-rails-track/

[v] https://www.americamagazine.org/faith/2008/01/21/jesuit-martyr-nazis-hitler-wanted-alfred-delp-forgotten-his-way-resistance-still

On Selfies and the New Narcissism

(Isa.11:1-10; Rom.15:4-9; Mt.3:1-12)

Something I find remarkable in my travels is the number of people who photograph themselves in front of major landmarks.  It’s not the Eiffel Tower or Taj Mahal that interests them. Rather, it’s the chance to get the perfect picture of themselves in a famous place.

Since ancient times people have wanted others to know what they look like, and in the Early Renaissance the rich and powerful began commissioning painted portraits.  Because these paintings can reveal so much, the artists were often asked to highlight or hide certain details, in order to convey an impression about the subject’s wealth, power, status or attitude.

In her article Virtual Friendship and the New Narcissism, Christine Rosen says that self-portraits are still popular today, but they’re more likely crafted from pixels than paints.  We call them selfies now, and people like to post them on social media sites like Facebook and Instagram, along with musings about their busy lives and details of their hobbies and friends.  

We put these pictures online, she says, because we’re looking for friendship, love and that ambiguous thing called ‘connection’.  And like painters constantly retouching their work, we alter, update and tweak our online self-portraits, adding vital statistics, glimpses of bare flesh and other bits of information.

‘The Delphic Oracle’s guidance was know thyself,’ Rosen says, but ‘today, in the world of online social networks, the Oracle’s advice might be show thyself.’ That’s because what drives these virtual galleries is the desire for attention. ^[i]

Whitney Houston used to sing that the greatest love of all is learning to love yourself, [ii] and that’s what our social media encourages.  In essence it’s narcissism, but it can lead to cyberbullying, sleep deprivation, lower self-esteem, social isolation, poor concentration, Internet addiction and depression.

The ancient Greek philosophers like Socrates, Plato and Aristotle taught that to live a complete life we must focus on meaning and purpose rather than just happiness, and for that we need to look beyond ourselves. [iii]

Here, Matthew’s Gospel has something to teach us today.  John the Baptist is in the desert wilderness, dressed like a wild man in camel-hair and leather and looking like the ancient prophet Elijah.  People from all over are flocking to him. Why? It’s because they’re looking for a way out of their own personal wilderness. They’re looking for answers.

John the Baptist urges them (and us) to ‘repent, for the kingdom of God is close at hand’.  In other words, get ready, because Jesus is coming.

The Greek word for ‘repentance’ is metanoeo, which means turning around or changing.  So, he’s telling us to change the way we think; to change the way we live.

Why should we do that?  It’s because Jesus is the long-awaited Messiah (2Sam.23:1; 1Kgs.1:39). He’s the only way to truly escape from our own personal wilderness.  

In John’s Gospel, Jesus describes himself as ‘the way, the truth and the life’ (Jn.14:6).  What he means is that if you’ve chosen another way, then you’re heading in the wrong direction.  If you believe another ‘truth’, then it must be false. And if you’re living another life, then you’re going nowhere (Jn.6:68).

John the Baptist adds that in this process of change you need to produce the appropriate fruit.  That is, you need to show that you really have changed and not just thought about it. Indeed, to live like Christ isn’t a once-only process of transformation.  We must keep changing until we’re totally like him (Rom.13:14; Col.3:12-17).  

That’s the only way to truly escape from our own personal wilderness.

In her book Strange Gods, Elizabeth Scalia reminds us that God is the most high.  She says that if we choose God – his light, his way and his truth – then everything will flow from the highest possible point.  But if we choose something lesser (like ourselves) then our life will flow from a much lesser rise – from a hill, rather than from a mighty mountain. [iv]

In other words, if we reject God, we’re reducing our lives to the limits of our own human weakness.  But if we choose God, we’re opening up our minds, hearts and lives to something far greater and more wonderful than ourselves (Jn.3:16; Mt.19:21; Rom.12:1-2).

Thankfully, some European countries have banned selfies at major landmarks.  

As we prepare for Christmas, let’s ban them, too.

Let’s focus on Jesus instead of ourselves.

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[i] Christine Rosen, Virtual Friendship and the New Narcissism, The New Atlantis, Number 17, Summer 2007, pp. 15-31. https://www.thenewatlantis.com/publications/virtual-friendship-and-the-new-narcissism

[ii] https://genius.com/Whitney-houston-greatest-love-of-all-lyrics

[iii] Pattakos, A & Dundon, E., The OPA! Way: Finding Joy and Meaning in Everyday Life and Work. BenBella Books, Dallas. 2015.

[iv] Elizabeth Scalia, Strange Gods: Unmasking the Idols in Everyday Life.  Ave Maria Press, Notre Dame, Indiana, 2013.