What We Learn From the Small

"You, Bethlehem-Ephrathah too small to be among the clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel..." (Micah 5:1)

 

When I opened today's readings for the first time this past week to read them, the word small for some reason kept jumping out at me. Today we gather on this last Sunday of Advent to celebrate, to rejoice in, and to remember that salvation came from a small town and from a small human being who also happened to be God.  That is the beauty and mystery of Christmas. The small, the meek, the innocent can teach us so much this blessed season.  This past week our school children doing their Nativity plays were so proud of the parts they played: Mary, Joseph, shepherds, kings, stars, and even the animals in the manger.  When I went around on Friday asking each kid what role they were playing, a first grader proudly asserted, "I'm the donkey!"  We all have a part to play in salvation...especially the small and especially our children. It's as if they understand Christmas on another level, perhaps they understand what we have forgotten as adults.

 

Mary, who calls herself the "little one of the Lord," visits her cousin Elizabeth in today's gospel, and their children  are the protagonists of the story while inside the womb.  An unborn child, John, is filled with the Holy Spirit and leaps for joy in the presence of the unborn Christ Child.  Yes, Elizabeth's words are powerful, as are Mary's words when she "proclaims the greatness of the Lord," but these two extraordinary women are only too happy to let their children teach us how joyful we should be this time of year.  This morning I brought the children up to the sanctuary to preach to them for the first time in a while and I shared with them the message of today's gospel.  I pointed out to them the empty crib of hay that laid at the foot of the altar and asked them what it meant.  One little girl very astutely explained that it represented our hearts that are preparing to receive Jesus this Advent.  This is why I love preaching children's homilies, especially around Christmas, because they "get it."  As I asked them if they were excited for Christmas, you could see the excitement and sense of wonder in their eyes, and not just for the upcoming presents, but they very matter of factly explained that it was because Jesus was coming. 

 

Towards the end, I stood up and asked their parents and all the adults the following question: Are we filled with the same child like joy as Christmas approaches? We should long to see our God as the shepherds did on that first Christmas night. If not, our prayer these final few days of Advent should be today's psalm response: "Lord, make us turn to you; let us see your face and we shall be saved." (Psalm 80:4)

 

 

Advent Miracles (Coming Home)

“The King of Israel, the LORD, is in your midst, you have no further misfortune to fear.” (Zephaniah 3:15)

The following is the true story of something that actually happened during my homily this morning.  Almost a homily within a homily:

Yesterday morning, our Emmaus brothers and sisters went out to deliver Christmas trees and toys to poor families in our area.  They chose the families, but I sent them to a particular family that really needed our help.  Earlier this month, I sadly had to officiate the funeral Mass of a 12-day-old baby.  No matter how long you are a priest, these are never easy.  I sat down with the mother half an hour before the funeral started to talk.  I started noticing that her and her family had never been to church before.  We talked about the loss of her baby.  She had two other daughters and a son who were not taking it well as one can imagine.  As I started to think of her other children, I asked her if she had gotten them gifts for Christmas, but she said no and that she hadn’t even put up a Christmas tree.  I told her not to worry because the Church would take care of it as I prayed that our Emmaus brothers had one more tree on their list left to give which they did.  But as I talked to this mother, my mind kept wondering how she got here.  She wasn’t baptized.  Her children weren’t baptized.  She kept asking me how to pray during this time of crisis and if she was allowed to come to our church on Sundays.  “Of course you can!  Anytime! But I have to ask you: who told you come here today to offer this Mass for your baby?”  She responded without hesitation: “There was this woman in the hospital with me while I was recovering, and when she found out that I lost my baby she told me: `You have to go to Immaculate to give her a Mass.’” Imagine that!  One of our parishioners, from her hospital bed!, was able to send this family to our parish and in turn allowed us to give them a proper Christmas…

(It was at this point of my telling of this story during my homily that I noticed three people walking towards me down the center aisle which is usually blocked off by the ushers.  I looked up and it was this mother I had been talking about with her two daughters!  I froze!  I looked up, smiled, and said to the mother, “I was just talking about you!”  I open up my arms to give her and her daughters a hug.  My congregation and I were speechless.  This wasn’t planned.  This wasn’t scripted.  Right at the climax of the story she just happened to walk into the church.  As I embraced her family, the congregation erupted in applause out of sheer delight or maybe just astonishment of what had just taken place or maybe to welcome this family to their new home.  When they sat down so I could proceed with my homily, for the first time in all my years of preaching, I was speechless. I turned around and looked up to the crucifix and turned back to the people and told them: “You know that line in the movie Analyze This when Robert DeNiro turns to Billy Crystal and points to him and tells him: `You! You are very good!  You are! You’re good!” And so I turned to the crucifix and uttered the same lines to our Lord.  How else could I react to what had just happened. So I gathered myself and fumbled my way to the finish line with the rest of the homily I had prepared...)

Yea, I don’t know what to say after that entrance except that they are here because one of you was like John the Baptist and brought someone closer to Christ by inviting them to our church, and they did it from their hospital bed no less.  We are always, at every moment, called to invite others to partake in our Savior’s joy.  And this is what this Sunday is all about because today is Gaudate Sunday, the Sunday of Joy!  We are called to rejoice because Christmas is almost here.  And boy are we rejoicing this morning with what just happened!  A sister and her family have come home!  Now we must go and invite others to come home as well.  There is much joy to spread and we want everyone home.

Just the other day, I was home listening to Christmas music and Darlene Love’s classic “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” started playing.  Every year on the night before Christmas Eve, David Letterman would have Darlene Love on his show to sing this song.  I would stay up to watch it year after year as my pump up song for the following two days.  Each year on the show, they would add more singers, more instruments and Darlene Love would sing it with more gusto, until they did it last year for the final time and really brought the house down.  There’s a verse in the middle of that song that has been stuck in my head for the last few days which goes: “They’re singing Deck the Halls, but it’s not like Christmas at all, because I remember when you were here, and all the fun we had last year.”  It’s as if we’re about to have this big party and we don’t want anyone to miss out on the joy.  Please come home has to be our mantra these last few weeks of Advent. 

God is calling us home, but we have to make the first move.  We have to respond to his invitation that he sometimes makes through his chosen ones. We have to open our hearts.  But our hearts our cluttered and weighed down by sin.  As we are called to rejoice today, some of us with cluttered hearts have no room for rejoicing.  But the prophet Zephaniah reminds us in the first reading that the Lord is in our midst.  He is coming to save us from our sins.  So what are you afraid of?  Why don’t you allow him to transform your heart with his mercy?  You have an opportunity this coming Tuesday when we have our Advent confessions to wash you hearts clean of sin and unclutter them so we can truly rejoice.  God so wants you to return to him so that you can be filled with his joy.  It’s time to come home for Christmas.

(As I uttered that last phrase of the homily, I paused and turned to the congregation and said, “I feel like everything I said after this sister walked in with her family was just nonsense.  Not that it didn’t need to be said, but I probably should have just stayed quiet and sat down after she walked in when all of us saw just how great our God is.  Yet this sister is a living example for all of us that we need to come home to God this Christmas.)

One last thing: After Mass, I think more people may have approached this mother and her family than said hello to me outside.  I totally didn’t mind.  Today I saw the compassion of the people of God as they kept asking me if this family needed anything else this Christmas.  When I finally made my way to the mother after my parishioners welcomed her, the first thing she said to me was “Sorry I was late.”  I started laughing because God whisked her through those church doors at the perfect time. A true Advent miracle! The Lord has done great things for us and we are indeed filled with joy!

Advent Witness

"...and all flesh shall see the salvation of God." (Luke 3:6)

I have often preached that during Advent we must learn to always point to Jesus Christ through our words but primarily through our deeds.  This is what John the Baptist and what so many good and holy men and women do everyday.  We are called through our lives to make straight the paths of the Lord, to help prepare in the hearts of others the way of the Lord. People should see in us conduits, if you will, to growing closer to Christ, to getting to know Christ. We should be living examples and witnesses of the glory that is to come.

This past Wednesday, Pope Francis told a story that really moved me.  It was about an elderly missionary nun that he met during his trip last weekend to the Central African Republic.  Let's let the Holy Father tell the story:

At a certain moment, I met a Sister at Bangui who was Italian. One could see she was elderly: “How old are you?” I asked. “81” – “But not so much, two [years] older than me.” This sister was there since she was 23-24 years old: her whole life! And, like her, so many others. She was with a little girl. And the girl said to her in Italian: “Grandmother.” And the sister said to me: “But I, in fact, am not from here, but from the neighboring country, Congo, but I came in a canoe with this girl.” So the missionaries are courageous. “And what do you do, Sister?” “I am a nurse, but then I studied a bit here and became an obstetrician and I made 3,280 children be born,” she said to me. A whole life for life, for the life of others...this sister said to me that Muslim women go to them because they know that the sisters are good nurses and that they look after one well, and they do not engage in catechesis to convert them! They give witness then, they catechize anyone who so wishes. But witness: this is the great heroic missionary work of the Church. To proclaim Jesus Christ with one’s life!

Called to proclaim Christ with our lives!  How many of us do that? How many of us are as courageous as this religious sister to witness in a place that is hostile to Christians?  We have it easy.  We don't face those same hostilities, yet we sometime cower from just giving a nice Christian smile to a stranger.  One of great things that strikes me from this story from the Pope is the fact that the sisters minister to Muslim women without proselytizing, without overtly mentioning Jesus Christ.  They proclaim Christ with their witness.  They point others to Christ with their service, their ministry to all peoples.  This is what we must be during this Advent season: witnesses!  We must witness to the presence of Christ in our lives. We must witness that we ourselves are preparing our hearts for the coming of the Messiah.  We must witness that as Christians we are a joyful people, ready to serve all, ready to explain our faith to anyone who would ask.  This is how we prepare a way for the Lord.  This is how we make straight his paths. May we follow the example of this sister who ministers in relative obscurity in the Congo.  If we witness in the same way and with the same love then indeed "all flesh shall see the salvation of our God."

100 Thanks (2015)

As has been my tradition since I had to pinch hit at a Thanksgiving Mass at St. Agnes in 2004, here is my annual list of the 100 things I am thankful for.  God bless you all and Happy Thanksgiving!  --Father Manny

1.     My priesthood

2.     My mother

3.     My father

4.     My sister

5.     My brother

6.     My nephews

7.     My brother in law

8.     My godchildren

9.     My parish

10. My school

11. Being a pastor

12. My Immaculate Family

13. My parishioners 

14. My former parishioners

15. My students

16. My former students

17. Signing and handing out diplomas for the first time

18. My best friend

19. All my friends

20. All my cousins (even the crazy ones)

21. Preschoolers and 1^st graders dressed up as pilgrims and Native Americans (and a turkey!)

22. Teachers

23. My staff

24. Balanced budgets 

25. Not losing sleep over things I can’t control

26. Hialeah

27. Carnival (even rainy ones)

28. Beignets and Fried Oreos

29. Late night post carnival meetings

30. Friday night card games

31. Piano Man (“Now John at the bar is a friend of mine…”

32. Captiva Sunsets

33. That elusive redfish

34. My new fishing rod

35. The people who love me who gave it to me (Chumpes!!!!!)

36. Their video tributes

37. Video tributes from Astoria

38. Turning 40 (I surrender)

39. The party that I will eventually have

40. Birthday surprises from my students and their parents (TD!)

41. Reading my 8^th graders’ Thanksgiving lists

42. Not getting half of the things that they’re thankful for

43. The insights I get into who they are from reading their lists

44. Compiling all their lists into one and reading that list to the entire school

45. Truckloads of donated Thanksgiving food

46. Flag football games and primary baseball games

47. Alumni who come to visit

48. Not fully understanding the point of Snapchat

49. Netflix (just Netflix, nothing else)

50. My nightly episode of Seinfeld

51. The Parks and Recreation Finale

52. Ron Swanson (“Give me all the bacon and eggs you have”)

53. The West Wing (Pilgrim detectives!)

54. Don Draper finally at peace (I think)

55. The new Star Wars movie 

56. The new James Bond movie (yes, I thought it was good)

57. Having visited three of the five locations where it was filmed (that’s pretty good)

58. The Dolphins (I’m not paid to say that)

59. Coach Philbin

60. Road Trips

61. London

62. Walks along the Thames

63. New York City

64. My annual view of Manhattan from my Jersey City hotel room

65. Washington, D.C.

66. The view from the Speaker’s Balcony

67. Marching for Life

68. Walking the entire length of the National Mall

69. Former students who greet you in every city

70. Sitting on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial

71. The Korean War Memorial covered in snow

72. The men and women who protect our freedoms and who aren’t home for Thanksgiving

73. The families who miss them

74. Pope Francis

75. His visit to Cuba and the United States

76. His homily at Madison Square Garden

77. His current visit to Africa

78. The Year of Mercy

79. Upcoming Pilgrimages (July 25-August 5 from Barcelona to Lourdes to Nice to Assisi and finally to Rome to walk through the Holy Doors…paid political announcement: contact me for more information)

80. Random texts from former students

81. Random pictures of engagement rings

82. Joyous phone calls when I’m asked to witness a marriage or baptize a child

83. Phone calls asking for confession

84. Other people’s dogs (except the Rottweiler next door who always barks at me) 

85. Young couples who truly understand the Sacrament of Holy Matrimony

86. The faithful who treasure the gift that is Sunday Mass…every Sunday

87. The faithful who are starting to get it

88. The Gloria at the Easter Vigil

89. Rhapsody in Blue 

90. The Florida Keys

91. Fishing with my dad

92. Long talks with my mom

93. The theater with my sister

94. Memories of my brother

95. Quiet time with the Lord

96. Celebrating Mass in so many beautiful cathedrals, basilicas and churches around the world, yet feeling at home only behind the altar at Immaculate

97. Nighttime walks staring up at our bell tower

98. The breezes during those walks that remind me of the presence of the Holy Spirit

99. The maternal protection of the Virgin Mary

100.       Celebrating Thanksgiving with my parishioners in the morning and with my family in the evening and feeling God’s love throughout this blessed day

Is Christ the King of Your Heart?

“He received dominion, splendor, and kingship; all nations, peoples and tongues will serve him.” (Daniel 7:14)

According to American legend, at the end of our Revolutionary War, George Washington was so popular with the people of this young nation that they offered to make him king.  Obviously, General Washington turned it down and became our first president, but his acts, apocryphal or not, charted the course of our country as we are unaccustomed to being under the rule of a king.  When we declared our independence, most of the world was ruled by kings, and even going back to the time of Jesus and further back to the Old Testament, kings ruled with a strong hand over their subjects.  Kings were lords over the lands and over their people.  People would bow in the presence.  Some were hands on and led their armies into war while others ruled lazily from the protection of the throne.  In short, we all equate kingship to great power and rule.

Enter Jesus Christ who institutes a new style of kingship: the servant-king.  Jesus tells Pilate in today’s gospel what we will celebrate next month: “You say I am a king. For this I was born and for this I came into the world…(John 18:37).”  Yet what confounded Pilate, and many of the disciples for that matter, is that if Jesus was truly king, then where was his power?  Where were his subjects?  Where were all the trappings that come with kingship?  On Friday, in preparing the school children for today’s feast, I asked them what popped into their head when they heard the word king.  Power.  Crown.  Throne.  Wealth. These were some of the things they said. I took the crown and the throne and asked them that if Jesus was king, then were are his crown and his throne?  We all agreed that his crown was the crown of thrones, but when I asked what his throne was, a little 1^st grader raised his hand and said “the cross.”  Even children get it.  There on the cross we see Christ our King at his most vulnerable but also at his most powerful because it is there that he vanquishes sin and death.  Listen to today’s Collect: “Almighty every-living God, whose will is to restore all things in your beloved Son, the King of the universe, grant, we pray, that the whole creation, set free from slavery, may render your majesty service and ceaselessly proclaim your praise…”  It is on the cross that he demonstrates the power of his kingship because he frees us from the slavery of sin and death.

But there’s another dimension of Christ’s kingship that we sometimes overlook.  We celebrate this solemnity today and many have given their lives over the centuries because we firmly believe that Jesus is King.  This is a central tenet of our faith, and if we believe the prophesy from the first reading that the Son of Man received dominion over all creation then he has dominion over us.  But because our God is a loving God, he is not a tyrannical king that seizes our love or our hearts.  He wants us to learn from his servant-king example, in which we were all baptized into, and give him our hearts on our own.  So here’s the question I pose to you today:  how much of our heart does Christ the King have dominion over?  Do we give him just a part of our heart like when we give him an hour a week on Sunday?  Or do we surrender and give him our entire heart and soul?  To give him anything less would be a disservice to Christianity.  Christ deserves our entire heart.  Every word and action of ours should scream to the world that Jesus is King of our lives, for if we really believe that Christ is Lord and King then everyone would know it.  Is Christ the King of your homes?  Is Christ the King in your workplace?  And yes it must be said: is Christ the King of this parish?  This is the challenge of today’s feast.  How much of our heart belongs to Christ the King?

Running on Empty

“Amen, I say to you, this poor widow put in more than all the other contributors to the treasury. For they have all contributed from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has contributed all she had, her whole livelihood." (Mark 12:43-44)

We are presented with two very generous widows in today’s readings who give from what they do not have.  They are giving from a place of love because even in their poverty they see the need to help others.  We must remember, as is pointed out when Jesus raised the son of the widow of Naim, that widows in Jesus’ time were particularly vulnerable to poverty because they did not have someone to provide for them.  We constantly hear references in the Scriptures of the Lord favoring the “widow and the orphan” because they were the forgotten, the littlest among the people.  In the first reading, a widow who had only enough to feed herself and her son was resigned to starving to death after she had prepared their last meal during a great famine.  Yet this widow puts her trust in Elijah the prophet who promises that her jars of flour and oil would not go empty during the famine.  She gives the prophet something to eat even if it meant that she and her son would possibly go without eating.  She gave from what she did not have.

In the gospel, Jesus observes another widow giving “from her poverty.”  She also was giving from what she did not have.  Jesus points her out to the disciples after expressing his disappointment with the scribes for “devouring the houses of widows”.  They gave from their surplus while the poor widow gave from what she did not have. 

Both these widows show us how to love when we have nothing to give.  So often we are called to perform acts of love when we literally have nothing to offer.  I think of parents who get home tired after a long day at work, and they still find the energy to spend time with their children, cook them dinner, help them with their homework, play with them, bathe them and tuck them in.  And this is what Pope Francis asked parents to do a couple of weeks ago when he told parent to “waste time with your children.”  That may not sound very productive, but parenthood is not about productivity, it’s about love.  I think of my sister who works tirelessly every day and I’ve seen her come and pick up my nephews at my parent’s house and think: “she and my brother in law have another five hours of parenting before they put them to bed.”  Parents may be running on empty when they get home, but this is where the Lord works through them because they are sharing their love from a place of nothingness and vulnerability just like the widows.  Yesterday, I was reading the commentary of Bishop Robert Barron on these readings and he said, “God reveals himself precisely at that moment of our greatest vulnerability and need.” He comes to our aid when we feel like we can’t go any further.  It’s not just parents.  It’s all of us.  We are all called to love and to give of ourselves as Christians, and sometimes we are called to share this love in moments of great pain, suffering, stress, anxiety, exhaustion, etc.  And this is where we need to trust God to take over for us.  We may be running on empty and things may seem impossible, but we need to stop concentrating on the impossible and focus on what is possible for that is when the impossible becomes possible. 

A small gesture of love, like the widow in the gospel, is enough to get the attention of Jesus.  Sometimes in our weariness and out of our nothingness the Lord can work marvels through us if we let him.  We have to trust him.  Even though her life was in peril, the widow in the first reading trusted God.  Even though she didn’t have a dime left, the widow in the gospel trusted God.  When we are running on empty and have literally nothing to left to give, do we trust God enough to take over?