The Feast of the Holy Family: Jesus, Mary & Joseph (Year A)

YOU’RE NOT GOD. 

THIS AIN’T HEAVEN. 

DON’T ACT LIKE A JERK. 

Sirach 3: 2-6; 12-14; Colossians 3: 12-21; Matthew 2: 13-15, 19-23 

We all know that THE Holy Family consisted of Jesus, Mary and Joseph. But what about our own families, yours and mine, the ones we grew up in . . . the ones we’re members of now: Is your family a holy family? 

Before you jump to a quick answer to that question, let’s take a moment to consider what makes a family holy. And to do that, we have to reach some agreement on what we mean by “holy.” 

Many people believe that “holy” means “perfect.” Well, God is holy and God IS perfect but outside the Trinity of Father, Son and Holy Spirit, perfection is pretty hard to find. But I don’t need to be perfect to be holy. To be holy is to strive faithfully to be and to become more and more the person God made me to be. It’s not all that complicated. Spiritual writer Fr. James Martin put it this way: "Just remember three things: You're not God. This ain't heaven. Don't act like a jerk!" That’s holiness! In other words: God’s in charge. Life is hard. Love one another even when it hurts. 

Actually, to be HOLY is to recognize honestly that I’m NOT perfect. A big part of being holy is being honest about the times when I’m un-holy, when I need to ask for God’s forgiveness and help to keep me from making the same mistake again. And if I fall, if I fail again, then I need to depend more and more on God’s mercy and strength to help me be more faithfully the person God made me to be, to help the sinner I am to be a little more – holy. 

It’s a waste of time to judge my holiness by comparing it with someone else’s. But people do this all the time. God isn’t going to judge me by how I measure up to St. Therese of Lisieux or St. Francis of Assisi. I’ll only be judged on how faithfully I became the person He created me to be. Saint Theresa might be a great model for me, but I’m not called to be her – I’m called to be me, and you’re called to be you – as God made you. 

In the Second Reading today, St. Paul writes to the Colossians and calls them “holy and beloved” but still sees the need to remind them to put on: compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience; to bear with one another and to forgive the grievances they have against one another; to put on love and to let Christ’s peace rule their hearts. This is the advice he gives to those he thinks are HOLY! In other words, he’s saying: Remember this: You're not God. This ain't heaven. Don't act like jerks! Be holy. Strive to be the persons God made you to be. And when you fail, and you will, ask for mercy and try again. 

Families are called to be holy, too, since families are made up of human beings. A family is called to strive faithfully to be a community of persons who love and care for one another. 

While it’s true that Jesus in his divine nature knows all about love because He is Love, we cannot simply whitewash the fact that because Jesus was also 100% human (remember, He’s true God and true man), He had to learn about human love from somewhere and someone. That somewhere was during the silent time in his home in Nazareth, hidden away from the public eye. And those someone(s) were Mary and Joseph – one sinless, and one a sinner with incredible virtue. 

It was in the home of Joseph and Mary that Jesus learned the meaning of love. From the moment of his divine conception, he was received as a gift. Jesus would grow up seeing how Joseph treated Mary, how he interacted with others, how committed he was to taking care of his family. Jesus watched Mary, the most-pure of all women, the one that had been selected from all eternity, interact with her husband. Through their love, He witnessed how their marriage and family life quietly impacted the lives of those around him. 

Although our family may not be like the Holy Family, God calls every family to be a holy family - to strive, faithfully, to grow together in and through its own circumstances, with all the gifts and graces, all the beauty and the brokenness, the generosity and the greed, the sacrifice and the selfishness, the hopes and the hurts that mark every family. He doesn’t judge a family by its brokenness but rather by how a family seeks to heal and reconcile with one another in the brokenness. And when they do this, they too become a holy family. 

When it comes to our own personal holiness or a family’s holiness, we might be tempted to think that “one size should fit all.” I hope our own experience of ourselves, of others, of other families might show us what I’m sure God knows, that every family has its own size and fit when it comes to holiness. THE Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph certainly didn’t fit the customary pattern: a virgin mother, a foster father, a 12-year-old son who runs away, convinced that he must preach God’s word in the temple in Jerusalem. And THEY are the HOLIEST of all holy families! Each of these three strove, faithfully, to be what God's love asked of them. 

Not because we're all that holy, but because we seek to walk the holy path to God, the Lord invites us, our church family, to his table this morning. And we come here, as a parish, with all the gifts and graces, the beauty and brokenness, the generosity and greed, the sacrifice and selfishness, the hopes and the hurts that mark every family. And as HIS holy family, our Lord calls us to look past faults, to forgive, to see the good in each other, to appreciate each other’s talents and gifts, to not judge each other by the standard set by those who previously stood at this pulpit or who sat in those pews, but to strive to be the holy parish family He calls us to be.

May the sacrament we receive here renew our desire in the New Year ahead to walk that path that leads each of us, our families and all of us who make up the St. Therese Parish Family to the holiness of God.

A Christmas Message of Hope 

The following was composed by Richard N. Hughes, a former executive at WPIX Channel 11 in New York and was broadcast every year prior to the Yule Log from 1974 to 1989. It’s message is just as beautiful, meaningful and relevant today as was then . . . perhaps even more so. 

Christmas is many things. It is a time for giving ... a time for receiving ... a time for putting away, for a little while, the cares and worries of the world, and rejoicing in the promise which is embodied in the birth of Jesus of Nazareth. 

While this day is most sacred and the promise most meaningful to the Christian world, there is a message in it for all mankind. It is a message which the world never quite remembers but has never quite forgotten. 

For the message of Christmas is the message of God's Love. And God's Love involves hope and promise for an improving future. 

If you were to compare our times with the time when Jesus was born, you would find great similarity. Like our time, it was a period of great unrest. It was a time when many prophets spoke with many tongues. It was a time when the problems seemed overwhelming. 

But into that time, Hope was born, in the person of the Child who was to become, for a great part of the world, the embodiment of the salvation of the humankind. 

There is important meaning for Christian and non-Christian in His brief lifetime, because this Man taught that love is the one sure source of healing for the human condition. He taught the Fatherhood of God and the Brotherhood of man. He taught that this earthly life is not the end for the human spirit. He taught that each man is accountable for his actions, but most of all, He taught the doctrine of Hope. Hope for the future in the promise that the result of goodness is Godliness. And, more than any other person in history, Jesus taught us to respect the Godliness in ourselves, and to give it expression by doing God's work in the world. 

The gifts which we give this Christmas Season, as symbols of God's great gift to the world, will pass and be forgotten. But the gift of Hope, as embodied in the Christ, will live eternally. 

For Hope is the life which springs eternal in mankind. 

At this Christmas Season, we wish you the best of the season ... and the best is the sure knowledge that there is cause to hope, if we will but accept the responsibility for bridging the gaps and healing the wounds in our society, and if, whatever our religious beliefs, we will, in Jesus' words, "Be of good cheer"

Footprints in the Snow

FOOTPRINTS IN THE SNOW

A Christmas Parable

An oversized hand pushed back the panel of a lace window curtain and two eyes peered out from inside. The eyes bore the marks of age. Wrinkles were their bookends. But there was something else about those eyes. They were childlike, eyes that were beacons of innocence, goodness, awe and wonder. 

“A white Christmas!” he exclaimed in a tone that conveyed both giddiness and resignation. “I guess I won’t be making it to Midnight Mass this year; I doubt anyone will,” he said to no one but himself. It would be the first Midnight Mass he would miss since the years when “visions of sugarplums danced in his head.” But it had been snowing since early morning and it would be a fool’s mission to be out on the roads that night. 

He fell into the comfort of his armchair, a chair that knew every curve of his body and he surveyed the room. It was a large living room in a large house which now possessed more memories than contents. And those memories all came rushing forth out of their usual hiding places that Christmas Eve. He smiled as his eyes became heavy and his head nodded as his memories became more real to him than the stark reality of being all alone. 

His brief sleep was startled, however, by the sound of tires spinning nowhere on the street outside his house. And sure enough, as his hand once again pulled back the curtain of the living room window, he made out, between the falling snowflakes, the image of a man kneeling almost in prayer beneath the street light as his hands dug into the cold snow to dig his car out of the snowdrift it had skidded into. 

“Damn Fool!” he mumbled as he let go of the curtain and moved as quickly as a man his age could toward his front door. “Hey! Hey you! You’re stuck! Come here! You’re never gonna to be able to dig yourself out until a plow comes and God knows when that will be. You might as well come in and wait.” And so, the man abandoned his car, and the snow, and the cold, and accepted the invitation. 

“Look at you! Not even a coat on! You’re going to catch your death of cold! Take your shoes off and let them the dry out a bit,” he said as he opened the door for his unexpected guest to enter. “The name’s Sam.” “Oh. Heard by God,” his guest smiled in response as he kicked off one shoe. “What? What’s that?” Sam squinted back. “Your name. Samuel. It means Heard by God.” “Oh . . . didn’t know that. Well if God’s heard me, all he’s heard lately is a lot of cussing and complaining,” Sam chuckled. “I’m Manny,” said his guest as he kicked off the second shoe. ‘Well, pleased to meet you Manny. Come on into the living room.” 

“Let me turn off the radio,” which had been playing Christmas carols nonstop all day. “No, please!” Manny protested. “I like it. I could listen to Christmas carols the whole year through.” “Well I bet you’re hungry and could use a nice hot cup of coffee. And I just made something that I think you’re gonna like – tomato soup cake – an old family recipe, treasured and passed down from generation to generation. . . from the back label of a Campbell’s Tomato Soup can,” chuckled Sam. “Sit here and let the fire warm you. I’ll be right back.” 

But when he emerged from the kitchen several minutes later, rather than sitting and warming himself, he found Manny standing at the mantle of the fireplace examining the photographs that were carefully arranged there. “That’s my family,” Sam offered. “This is my wife Kathleen, the prettiest and sweetest thing ever to come across the sea from Ireland. That one there is my daughter Sophia. And this . . . this is my son, Micah. Sophia lives in California now. She’s very successful. A lawyer! So, there’s really not much time for visits. And Micah . . . Micah was killed in the war. And picking up the picture of his wife and holding it to his chest as if to hug her, he said, “Kathleen was never the same after that. The doctors say she died of a heart attack. I say she died of a broken heart.” 

And as if not to give into the melancholy of the moment, he directed Manny’s attention to another picture on the mantle. “And this one . . . this is my favorite! It’s of Kathleen and Micah and Sophia out in the front yard after the blizzard of ’74. Just look at the smiles on their faces. And look at the tracks they left, the snow angels and footprints in the snow! You know, all winter long I would look out and would see those footprints with such happiness, because even though my children or my wife might have been in school or shopping, the footprints were the telltale signs that they had been there. Those footprints, although vacant, to me were still filled with life and love and laughter. That’s why I cherish this picture. Because, although those footprints have been covered over with many seasons’ worth of grass and leaves and more snow, in this picture those footprints are preserved and frozen for all time.” 

“You know, Sam, not everyone who visits us leaves footprints in the snow.” “What? What’s that,” asked the uncomprehending Sam? “Angels leave no footprints. And neither does God. Yet without a doubt, they visit us, walk with us, stay with us. Some are unconvinced or despair when they don’t see the footprints. They believe God has abandoned them or worse – that he doesn’t exist at all. But the pure of heart don’t need to see footprints to know that God has been around, that God has visited them, that God is present and loves them.” Sam’s eyes widened, he scratched his head and then finally nodded at the truth of which Manny spoke, a truth Sam never thought about before but now understood. 

They spoke of many things that night. Of family and faith . . . of memories and hopes . . . of life and love. The hours past as if only minutes. Suddenly a pause came in their conversation and Sam glanced at his small Christmas tree which stood where grander trees stood tall in years past. “Oh! I have something for you! A Christmas present,” Sam exclaimed! “Every year I buy myself a present and wrap it, put it under the tree and open it on Christmas morning, trying to convince myself that I don’t know what’s inside. I want you to have it. Here . . .” Sam handed the crudely wrapped box to Manny who opened it and smiled. It was a grey cardigan sweater. “Sam, I can’t,” protested Manny. “Ah I’ve got a dozen of them. Try it on,” instructed Sam. And Manny obliged. “Well, it’s a little big but you’ll grown into it,” Sam said with a wink and a smile. “But take it off now so you feel the good of it outside later.” 

And just as Manny did, the sound of steel gliding across asphalt interrupted the beauty of the Christmas music on the radio and a stark reality suddenly hit Sam. “The plow,” he said without expression. He knew his Christmas guest would be leaving. 

“Yeah I guess I better go out and clear the snow off my car and hit the road,” responded Manny with a tone of somber reluctance. “Let me walk you to the door . . . Now don’t forget your shoes,” Sam joked and was amazed when he saw that they had left no puddle on the floor. Sam then gathered the courage to ask the question which had puzzled him with greater intensity all night long. “Say, do I know you. Have we ever met before? Your face seems awfully familiar to me.” “Maybe we’ve met before,” said Manny. “Or maybe I just have one of those faces that looks like everyone else,” he said. And Sam continued to stare intently, hoping to recall a time or a place of a previous encounter. “Well . . . Merry Christmas, Manny.” “Merry Christmas Sam.” And as his hand reached for the door knob, he looked back and looked deeply into Sam’s eyes. “Sam, today salvation has come to this house. You are not far from the kingdom of God.” And with that, he turned, opened the door, and was gone. 

And as the door closed, Sam returned to the living room to the comfort of his armchair and tried to make sense of Manny’s words and of that whole Christmas Eve night. Suddenly his eyes caught sight of the sweater that Manny had left draped on the arm of the chair where he had been sitting. “Hey! Wait a minute! You forgot! You forgot your sweater! Sam raced to the door and, as he opened it, his radio suddenly began to blare at an almost deafening volume with the most beautiful sounding choir he had ever heard: 

Hark! the herald angels sing, 

"Glory to the new-born King! 

Peace on earth, and mercy mild, 

God and sinners reconciled. 

And above the sound of the choir was Manny’s voice, seemingly coming from both nowhere and everywhere: 

“For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me.” 

Sam squinted his eyes to see past the falling snow. But beneath the street lamp, he saw no plow. He saw no car. He saw no Manny. And then, suddenly, Sam gasped. Tears brimmed from those eyes which sometimes beamed with childlike innocence. And the cascading tears warmed his frozen cheeks as he looked down at the pathway to his door. For he realized . . . there were no footprints in the snow. 

Two thousand years ago, a babe was born in a manger, wrapped in swaddling clothes, serenaded by angels, visited by shepherds and wisemen. He grew, and walked the dusty roads of Galilee and Judea, walked up a hill called Calvary, and walked out of a tomb that held his body for three days. And today, he walks whatever road life takes us. He is Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. He is Immanuel “GOD WITH US.” Blessed are the pure of heart who need no footprints in the snow to know that God has been in their midst. 

First Sunday of Advent (Year A)

Waiting for the One Who is Already Here

Isaiah 2: 1-5; Romans 13: 11-14; Matthew 24:36-44

Today is the First Sunday of Advent and “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!” On Thursday, people excused themselves from their Thanksgiving tables to hit the malls to be among the first to take advantage of the “Black Friday” sales. Were you there? Sirius Satellite Radio has been playing Christmas music nonstop since November 1st. Have you been listening? The Hallmark Channel has been running their marathon of Christmas movies since . . . well, did they ever stop? Have you started watching? And some people have already decorated the outside of their houses with lights and put up their tree. Have you? Yes, “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!”

After the leaves have all fallen and the world has become more desolate and cold; after life has taken on a dreary cast and we, too, feel somewhat dreary after struggling through another year - suddenly there is this season that is full of hope for a new beginning, for new life. A promise that life can be different, that there are new possibilities for life and for living. A whole new world comes into being at Christmas - a magical world full of flying reindeer, elves, snowmen and Santa Claus. A world full of new possibilities; a place where it seems like the impossible could almost happen. Because two thousand years ago, the impossible DID happen: God took on human flesh in the person of a tiny baby born in a stable in the city of Bethlehem. 

And Advent, the season we begin today, is the signpost, pointing the way to Bethlehem. This is a time of preparation and anticipation. Shopping, candy ribbons, Advent calendars, the lighting of the Advent wreath - all help us to prepare; all point us toward Christmas. But we need to be sure that the incidentals don't crowd him out. The shopping, the baking, the carols - all of those things can be great ways of celebrating the miracle - but they're just the window-dressing on the season. If they become the focus, we will get to the end of the season and wonder what happened? What happened to the Child of Christmas? 

That’s why our Advent readings open with this warning: "Watch! Be ready!” The signs of his coming are already all around us. Not in the tinsel and glitter and merrymaking. Not in the lovely carols or beautifully decorated houses. But Jesus tells us that it will be as in the days of Noah. He says when things are "business as usual," where some are partying and having a good time in the midst of those who are poor, hungry, desperate - when you see that happen - then you know the kingdom is near. When you see cruelty, disruption, discord, hatred and strife. When the world seems out of control - then you can be sure it’s time for Emmanuel, “God with us.” It's time for his kingdom to come. It's time for the promise to be given birth. 

And it’s not just to the tragedies and upheaval of the world that he comes. But in the times and in places when we feel alone, disconnected from the world, alienated from others (and maybe even from ourselves). In times of personal loss, moments of disappointment, occasions of failure, loneliness and personal need. It’s here and it’s then that Christ comes . . . Emmanuel . . . God-with-US. It’s then that, if we’ve been watching; it’s there that, if we’ve been waiting; it’s now that, if we have prepared, that Christmas becomes, not just a day, but a person. 

The promise of Christmas comes when it’s most needed. And the irony of Advent is that we watch, we wait and we prepare for the One who is already here. That’s why every moment of life is a moment of hope and possibility. Any moment he may come to us, if we’re open like Mary and Joseph and the shepherds, to receiving him. The kingdom is waiting to break into your world. The signs of it are everywhere. Watch! Wait! Be ready! Not just when the carols are playing. Not just when you feel Christmasy. But also, and especially, when the world seems dark to you and you feel far from God's kingdom of love, peace, joy and justice. 

The “holiday season” all around us, the “commercial season” tapping our bank accounts, the “social season” of decorations, gifts and parties – none of these are particularly beneficial in helping us welcome Jesus into our hearts. But the “Advent season” is: 

• For this is the season to find some quiet time to sit with our Lord in prayer and share with him the joys and the worries, the triumphs and the hurts, the successes and the disappoints in our hearts right now. 
• This is the season, not for buying, consuming and filling up on everything - but rather – for emptying ourselves out to make room for Jesus to come into our hearts and make himself at home there. 
• This is the season to focus, not so much on things whose shelf-life is so short, but on those realities that can and do last forever. 
• This is the season to appreciate that the greatest Christmas gift ever given or received is God’s gift of love to us in his Son, Jesus: in his gospel, in his death and resurrection, and in the Sacrament of his presence at the altar. 

Yes, “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.” Jesus is coming. To a world that often is ignorant of him the rest of the year, he will be born anew in minds and in hearts on Christmas, if only for a single day. And yes, he will come on the clouds of angels at the end of the world to take us home, as he foretold in today’s gospel. But he is already present now as well, and his kingdom is near to you. Every day is an Advent because Emmanuel – “God with us” desires to once again be born – in YOU. Every day is an Advent for you to wait for him. Every day is an Advent for you to search for him. May your hearts be open and prepared to receive him this season of Advent.