December 4, 2011

Second Sunday of Advent

Fr. Orlando P. Sapuay, MS

Is 40: 1-5, 9-11

2P 3: 8-14

Mk 1: 1-8

John the Baptist said the most awful thing to his own people. He called them “brood of vipers,” and he said they deserved nothing but destruction. And yet the people flocked to hear him! He must have been playing by accepted rules. He was their theater; he was the horror movie of his time. He was even dressed for the part.

Jesus came from the desert too, but he was much friendlier. He sat down to table with all kinds of people that the locals would call scum. He spoke of mercy, forgiveness, and hope. He said that prostitutes would enter the kingdom of God ahead of the pious; he praised the faith of peoples of foreigners and those of other religions: Samaritans, Roman Centurions, the Syro-Phoenician woman…This was clearly breaking the rules. They wanted their theater (as we all do) to be safely ”out there.” They went “out” to John the Baptist. But Jesus came in and saw them from the inside; He did not “play the prophet” as he was challenged to do. He got into their minds; he saw what they are made of. He knew them too well; if their illusions were to live on, he had to die.

Many years ago someone, out of the longings of his heart, wrote a poem entitled In the Land of Beginning Again. The poet imagined a land where one could start his life all over again, from the beginning, while retaining every memory of his previous life. Thus, every mistake of the past could be rectified; every decision that had proven wrong would be reversed. Sins of omission and commission which, in the previous life, had resulted in injury and grief to one’s self or others, would be avoided.

How many times have we heard the expression, "If I only had my life to live over again!" Or again, "If I only knew then what I know now!" Or the despairing cry, "I know I was wrong; but now it is too late!" Adam and Eve may have used that very expression: "Oh, to have another chance! Please give me just one more chance!" This is a universal desire. The Bible says, in Haggai 2:7, "The desire of all nations [or all peoples] shall come."

Indeed, our greatest longing is coming! “Unto us, a Child is born!” “Our God is a God of many chances and new beginnings.” He came to show us how to walk the “land of beginning again.” All you have to do is to welcome Him. This is to say, You are to be His temple, His dwelling place and God’s temple is holy (1 Cor. 3: 17). But what happened to the temple? What has happened to our bodies…to us? There must be a need for a thorough cleansing of the temple contaminated by the world’s offering of hatred, greed, pride, hunger for power, wealth, prestige. Lies, pretensions and deceptions; infidelities and insincerities

 

The Shepherds

They are peasants: simple, hard-working, honest people. Under our layers of modern sophistication and education, we are all peasants. It’s the peasant in us, the child in us, that hears angels, that is hailed by the heavenly glory, that dares to hope and wonder with awe.

The shepherds are outdoors, exposed to God’s sky, not protected by human artifice. Even when we’re in an office, surrounded by technology, the shepherd-self in us is always in this situation. No place is safe from God’s invasion. They are “keeping watch by night.” In the darkness they wait and watch, like the little child at the center of our souls. And it’s in the darkness that the heavenly light dawns. In the silence is heard the angels’ song. Kierkegaard said, “If I could prescribe only one remedy for all the ills of the modern world, I would prescribe silence. For even if the Word of God were proclaimed, no one would hear it; there is too much noise. Therefore, create silence.”

“The glory of the Lord shone round about them.” Only if we believe, do we see. “They were afraid.” We fear the unknown, the opening skies, the passages between worlds, like birth and death. Even when the angel says, “Fear not,” the event is no less momentous, The awe is now joyful, not fearsome; but it’s still “awe-full.” It is “good tidings of great joy.” Joy can be as awesome as fear. The Good News, the incredible event of the Incarnation, is the most joyful and the most awesome news we have ever heard.

The angel tells the shepherds that this event is “to you.” Not just to “mankind” in general, but to us, these ordinary individuals — Almighty God comes to our fields, stables, offices and homes. This is no prerecorded message; this is God calling us up personally. The shepherds’ response is immediate and practical: “Let us go to Bethlehem.” The angel’s message has power; it moves people to go. When Cicero addressed the Roman senate, everyone said, “How beautifully he speaks!” But they remained in their seats. Yet when Demosthenes addressed the Greek army, they leaped up, clashed spear upon shield and said, “Let us march!”

The angels are like Demosthenes. Scholars, seeing angels, say, “Let us interpret this.” Shepherds, seeing angels, say, “Let us go.” Karl Marx was profoundly right when he said, “Philosophers have only interpreted the world, the thing is to change it.” Both bad religion (Marx’s) and good religion (Christ’s) change the world. Unlike the wise men, the shepherds have no gifts to bring Christ. They are poor beggars — like us. “Just As I Am” is our song. They come with dirt under their fingernails and in their souls. They come to receive, not to bargain; to wonder, not to understand. They run to Bethlehem to fall on their knees — that is, to fulfill the ultimate purpose for which we were all created.

Like us, the shepherds need to come only a short way to meet Him, from the fields to the stable. But He came an infinite distance to meet them; from heaven to earth, from eternity to time, from infinite joy to squalor, suffering and death. He desired that meeting with all His heart. For that meeting the very stars that sang on that holy night were created as mere stage props. What the simple shepherds do is the highest and holiest thing any saint or mystic ever does, on earth or in heaven. It is the thing we shall be doing for all eternity: loving and adoring God. We had better learn from the shepherds and start practicing now.
 

December 11, 2011

Third Sunday of Advent

Fr. Orlando P. Sapuay, MS

Is 61:1-2a, 10-11

1 Thes 5: 16 -24

John 1: 6-8, 19-28

Children dance with expectation. There is nothing at once so joyful and so painful as waiting. The second reading in today’s liturgy is a perfect example: “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing and give thanks to God in every moment.” “From gloomy saints,” wrote St. Theresa of Avila, “good Lord, deliver us”

St. Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians continues on with a prayer/blessing: “May the God of peace make you holy and bring you to perfection. May you be completely blameless, in spirit, soul and body..” It is best to pray over John the Baptist’s message to discover true joy in our lives. When John the Baptizer made his appearance as a preacher in the desert of Judea, this was his theme: Reform your lives. The reign of God is at hand!"

O Jesus, in an empty desert your prophet John proclaimed: God is here, at your side. God has come to bring about a kingdom where injustice and suffering will be no more, where tears will be wiped away, and where those who turn to God will feast at a banquet. "Turn now, your God is standing at your side. Reform your lives, God's kingdom is at hand." In an empty desert John said these things.

Give me faith like John's, O Lord, strong enough to believe even in a desert that you and your kingdom are no farther from me than my hand. Make my heart strong like his, not swayed by trials or snared by false pleasures. Give me courage to be faithful until your promises are fulfilled. O King of all nations, Jesus Christ, only joy of every heart, come and save your people.

John's disciples said to Jesus, "Are you 'He who is to come' or do we look for another?" In reply, Jesus said: "Tell John what you hear and see: the blind recover their sight, cripples walk, lepers are cured, and the poor have good news preached to them..."

O Jesus, I rejoice at the signs that say you are near. Your power is everywhere if I could see it. Yet my eyes often see only darkness and what has yet to be done. I believe in you, yet when I look around evil seems so strong and goodness so weak. If you have come, why is there still so much suffering and why do the poor still despair? Where are your miracles today?

Your grace, O Lord, is more fruitful in my world than I imagine. I know your power is everywhere around me, if I could only see it. Show me today where the blind see and cripples walk. Make my vision sharper than it is.

“I am the voice crying out in the wilderness: Make straight the way of the Lord.” Which way? The only way! Like John, we prepare the way of the Lord with our lives of holiness and righteousness. There is no other way to prepare ourselves for the coming of the Lord but to live with Him and in Him.

 

Joseph & The Power of Obedience

Being the “strong silent type,” Joseph says little in the Gospels. Yet he does much just by being there and by being himself: Joseph the just; Joseph the worker; Joseph the foster-father, the reliable, the available. Like most men in most cultures, Joseph speaks by his daily work. In this ordinariness, Christ is present, a man as human and even as ordinary as Joseph, a carpenter.

Like Mary, who quietly pondered in her heart (Luke 2:19), Joseph stands there in the manger scene, in silent readiness. That is how Christ comes to him, to Mary, to us. Christ had invaded Joseph’s life most intimately just when it seemed God had abandoned him to tragedy: His beloved Mary was pregnant, but not by him. Joseph suffers in silence.

Joseph responds to his crisis both justly and charitably; in him “justice and peace meet together.” He resolves to “put Mary away,” i.e,. to break the solemn engagement rather than live a lie. That is justice. But for Mary’s sake, “privately.” That is charity. The angel, God’s news broadcaster, announces the good new: that this apparent tragedy was God’s work. God, not man, certified by His angel that this revelation, this Word of God, this Christ, was from God, and not man, from a divine father, not a human one.

But Joseph could not afford a horse, only a donkey. He could not get a room in the inn, only a stable. He may have thought himself a failure as a provider, as many a man feels today if he cannot afford to give his family “the best.” But he has not failed; he can be “the best.” But his work was for them, not for him. He was no work addict. He is not always in his carpenter shop; but he is always there for his family. Even Satan cannot defeat this simple man. Satan fails because Joseph obeys God’s angel and provides for his family: two deeds of ordinariness that are more powerful against the very forces of hell than anything else in the world. Take away all the Nobel Prize winners and humanity would still survive. But take away obedience to God and loyalty to family, humanity is doomed. And these are precisely the two traditional values most imperiled in our time.

When the threat passes, Joseph takes his family home. Home — that holy word, symbolic of heaven. Homecoming was cruelly delayed but Joseph was patient and did not run ahead of God, whatever the circumstances. Travel to and living in a foreign land were no vacation then; rather, they involved real hardship. But to run ahead of God onto our own path is to run out of the only real safety (however dangerous it appears) into danger (however safe it appears).

Thus Joseph, like Mary, shares in the work of redemption. And so do we. That is the ultimate dignity of daily work and obedience. Like the angels, we are unseen actors behind the scenes of the play, helping with the stage sets or the lighting, unspectacular but necessary roles in the great drama of salvation. And that is the significance of our daily work (and that of St. Joseph the Worker). It is the sacrament of the ordinary.
 

December 18, 2011

Fourth Sunday of Advent

Fr. Orlando P. Sapuay, MS

2 Samuel 7:1-5, 8b-12

Rom 16: 25-27

Luke 1: 26 – 38

We are at the origin of the human existence of the Word of God. The word became flesh in Mary’s womb. In older times it was thought that the mother contributed nothing but accommodation to the child in her womb. Everything came from the father: the seed was a “homunculus”, a tiny human being. Modern biology dispelled that belief. Biologically, the parent’s contributions are equal. In other respects of course the mother’s contribution is total.

The Word came to Mary looking for far more than accommodation. He became flesh of her flesh. He was not human before he was conceived in her womb. He took flesh from Mary. That means our flesh, human nature. Whatever God the Father gave His Only-Begotten Son in human nature, He gave all this to all of us. The Annunciation is not to Mary alone, but to you and me.

This is the same gospel proclaimed on the Feast of the Immaculate conception of the Blessed virgin Mary. This is not about the conception of Jesus in his mother’s womb but about Mary’s own conception – her being conceived and born free of original sin. Of course there is no scriptural text to support this specific doctrine, so the liturgy uses Luke’s account of the conception of Jesus. This makes sense, because it is only because of Jesus that we can say things about Mary.

Meister Eckhart may be of help to us to further reflect on this familiar reading. He had a great gift of removing names and labels and allowing them to be mysterious again.

“If anyone were to ask me, why do you pray, why do we do all our works, why are we baptized, why I most important of all) did become incarnate? – I would answer, in order that God may be born in the soul and the soul be born in God. For that reason, all the scriptures were written, for that reason God created the world and all angelic natures: so that God may be born in the soul and the soul be born in God.”

The parable from the twenty-second chapter of St. Matthew (22: 1-14), comprised one of Christ's parables, in which He compares the Kingdom of Heaven to a great marriage feast. Christ says that "The Kingdom of Heaven is like unto a certain King, which made a marriage for his son.

In summary of this parable, one may say that the Lord Jesus Christ is the bridegroom, and we are the bride, your soul and mine. We are called and invited, everything is all prepared, for the union between God and His bride, the soul who loves Him. This is something indescribable. This love is so close, so interior, so secret, so tender and so ardent as to be beyond all comprehension. All the great theologians, with all their wisdom, could never express what it is. However much they wanted to speak about it they could only keep silence. The more we want to say what it is, the less we can say and the less we understand it.

 

Mary: Humankind's Only Boast

We’ve so far explored three of the four persons or groups around Christ in the barn, and we’ve searched for the significance of the shepherds, the wise men and Joseph in our own lives. Now we turn to Mary, the fourth and most important figure near Jesus, the one who surrounds Him with her very flesh.

Immediately a problem arises. How can we identify with an immaculately conceived woman who never experienced original sin; the woman who is “our tainted nature’s solitary boast,” as Coventry Patmore sang of her? How can we discover in ourselves the privilege of being Theotokos, the Mother of God? We can find the simple shepherd, the questing wise man or the silent, faithful Joseph in ourselves perhaps, but how can we find Mary? Yet, find her we must because too us, too, the angelic salutation comes: “Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you!” If we are not full of grace, if the Lord is not with us, we are not saved.

The angel said to Mary, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; hence the holy offspring to be born of you will be called Son of God” (Luke 1:35). But we are addressed by the same angelic news. Our soul, like Mary’s body, is to receive God Himself if only we, like her, believe, consent and receive; if only we speak her truly magic word fiat, “let it be.” It is the creative word, the word God used to create the universe.

That’s why Mary is the archetypal Christian. In her happens the thing bigger than the Big Bang, more creative than creation, the thing that also happens in us. Kierkegaard says, “Do you think it is a great thing for God to create the universe out of nothing? I will tell you a greater thing He does: He creates saints out of sinners.”

That too is truly creation. The Incarnation — in Mary and in us — is God’s answer to that most fundamental of all human needs.

But Mary is a woman; how can a man identify with her? Because as the saints say, to God we are all feminine. Even the Latin word “soul,” anima, is feminine. Woman symbolizes the soul in its relation to God better than man does. We do not impregnate God; God impregnates us with His life. The very receptivity, the very secondness of the feminine is thus raised to privileged status, as the Magnificat shows. The lowly, quiet, womblike, receptive power of the soul, the response to the divine husband’s initiative — this is the highest and most precious thing in us. Mary is our true self.

When you look at your Nativity set, at this most natural and ordinary thing in the world, a mother and a newborn baby, you are reading a pictorial newspaper headline that announces the most extraordinary event in history; the Maker of Mary was enfleshed by Mary; the One who surrounds the stars is surrounded by Mary’s womb; the Creator consented to come into His creature because she consented to have Him. And unto us as well. Every time we consent to His perpetual proposal, every time we make an act of faith, and every time we receive the Eucharist, we resonate Mary’s fiat and make Christmas happen.

December 25, 2011

The Nativity of the Lord

Fr. Orlando P. Sapuay, MS

Is 52: 7 – 10

Heb 1: 1-6

John 1: 1-18


Let us adore baby Jesus in the manger. A baby easily wins the heart and love of anyone with human feelings, but how much more does this baby win our heart and love. Let us kneel before baby Jesus and thank him for coming to save us. Thank baby Jesus now in your own words.

Imagine, Jesus, the Son of God and our Savior born in a stable and placed in a manger instead of in a cot! When God comes he usually comes in humility, silently and peacefully, without causing a great disturbance. God’s humble coming in Jesus would not surprise us if we knew God better. But of course we will never know God sufficiently to understand. So no matter how much we try to understand God becoming human in Jesus we will not be able to comprehend, it will remain a mystery. The best reaction is that of the shepherds, simply to praise God. Let us praise God now in our own words.

As we look on baby Jesus we think of the mystery of God’s love for us. Why did God who is almighty and all-powerful become small and powerless as a baby? Quite simply, out of love for us. God became human so that we might become more like God. Jesus, if you had not come as a human like us, we might have had difficulty in believing that God really loved us. But now we know for sure. John the Evangelist says, “This is the revelation of God’s love for us, that God sent his only Son into the world that we might have life through him”. Let us thank God for revealing his love for us in Jesus, that he who is so big and powerful became so small and weak for us, that he became one of us, to help us be more like him, to have life through him.

As we see baby Jesus in the manger we reflect on God’s way being a way of gentleness and tenderness. God’s way is not one of violence but gentleness. There is a lack of goodness and love in the world but God is tender and loving. As we look on baby Jesus in the manger we see that he is the answer to today’s problems. Instead of violence, in baby Jesus in the manger we see gentleness. Instead of hatred, in baby Jesus in the manger we see tenderness. Instead of selfishness, in baby Jesus in the manger we see love for us. Let us ask baby Jesus to help us to be gentle, tender and loving with those around us as he was in the manger.

Jesus in the manger, you give us hope. In the darkness of our world, your light has shone. Your coming in gentleness encourages us to hold out the hand of reconciliation, to help one another, to work for peace. We remember the message of the angels; “Glory to God in the highest heaven and on earth peace”. Baby Jesus, help us to be people of peace and to spread peace everywhere we go. Let us pray now for peace.

 

May I be like a child this Christmas
Like a child whose eyes are bright

with the sparkle of newfound dreams
Who laughs when the dawn paints the skies
And tumbles out of bed

to embrace the promise of a new day
That’s what You brought when You came, Lord...

When You came as a Child
May I be like a child who laughs and sings
Quick to give You thanks for little things
Enjoying each treasure and each flying moment
Not reaching back, nor rushing on ahead
Content to find in every little place
A miracle just waiting for me

to get there to see it happen

You were the miracle, Lord...
In Bethlehem’s tiny manger
So may I grow, each day a little stronger
Yet still retain so deep within my heart
That childlike freedom, trust and wonder
A never-ending hymn of love to You
Unrehearsed, yet written long before
And true to deeper things
And smiling still when years have run on past
And laughing when the morning calls to me

You are the sunshine, Lord...
Rising in my eastern sky
And when I close each day
With thanks for all You gave
And all the places where You stood beside
Protecting me and keeping me from harm
May I still have the free imagination
To take a peek before I say Amen
Your eyes are always open, Lord... I pray
May I be like a child this Christmas Day