Feast of the Holy Family, cycle C

When I was a brand new youth minister, and Greg and I newly married, he was my number one volunteer…kind of by default. He had yet to learn the appreciation of teenagers that 20 years of being a youth ministry spouse has since taught him. On the way home from one particularly frustrating lock-in with some very mischievous freshman boys he turned to me and asked earnestly, (and all seriousness), “How do their fathers keep from killing them?”

“That’s why you get them as babies, little & cute. “I said, “You get attached, and so when they get to a more trying age you’ll think twice because of all the time and money you’ve already got invested.”
Parents aren’t the only ones who have it tough though, and these days around Christmas can be especially trying for the ‘still growing’ among us. Raise your hand if you’ve had at least one person in the last week pinch your cheeks, tell you that you’re growing like a weed, or ask you what you plan to do with your future.
With the feast of the Holy Family set in the middle of the Christmas Season, it’s easy to look at the nativity scenes and the Christmas cards that surround us, and idealize the small family unit that we focus on today. When the parents are both saints and the only child is divine, it’s easy to say they’re not like me so I can’t be like them; that the Holy Family is so different from my family there’s no point in pursuing holiness, it’s out of reach.
And yet, isn’t that the point? Jesus, takes on flesh, becomes part of a family, becomes part of our family, the human family, and lives as one of us–The amazing event, deceptively sublime and shockingly simple, that God relates to us by becoming one of us, AND reveals to each of us just how infinitely, how tenderly we are loved through the people God has given us to love and be loved by.
The picture we have though is much like a hospital snapshot a few hours after the baby is born, the hollering and crying is over, the mess is cleaned up, the chaos is done. We’ve heard these stories so often that they can lose the sense of reality that ought to accompany them. But it’s good for us to remember that the holy family did not start out in peace and tranquility. They were beset by difficulty, by scandal and danger, this family faced trouble and uncertainty as surely as any of ours.
And if we ‘read between the lines’ of today’s gospel, or even just listen to the story remembering that there was a real family whose child had gone missing, it’s a little easier to relate. Three days they looked for him, can you imagine your 12 year old missing for three days? AND when they finally find him—I think Luke edited out the shaking and the crying part here– his mother asks “Why have you done this to us?”
Does Jesus say I’m sorry?  Does he say ‘you must have been worried mom’ ? Nooooo, in all his 12 year old arrogance, Jesus sasses his mother!
Now I know in all the songs Mary is meek, and mild but let’s remember, after this incident, we don’t hear anything from Jesus until he’s 30 years old. He was grounded for 18 years! (and you can be sure they took away his cell phone)
More seriously, today’s gospel shows us a family doing their best to bring up a child of faith, who will live goodness because he has experienced it; a family, like our families. It shows us parents struggling to understand this child they’ve been given, and a young person just beginning to ask the big questions, to seek answers beyond the ones provided at home. Our gospel is a glimpse into that ‘my how you’ve grown moment’ when childhood stands behind and destiny lies ahead, and the promise of who this young person might become, begins to come into focus.
This season, in spite of all the celebration, can be a difficult one for families. As songs and movies, even TV commercials speak of togetherness and the joys of home and family the fractures and divisions, the losses and brokenness of our families is seen that much more clearly. We are keenly aware of who is NOT with us at the table. Where distance or death or estrangement keeps us apart, or in the situations where forgiving is difficult and forgetting is unwise, in families where abuse or addiction has strained or broken the bonds, this season, and today’s feast, can be a challenge, when our families can seem anything BUT holy.
But whatever the construct or state of our families the daily practice of caring for someone beyond ourselves stretches each of us toward holiness, presses us onward to imitate the giving and forgiving of the holy family.
And in our second reading we are instructed just how to care for each other, exactly what God is calling us to, with words that are easy to say but hard to do. As I read this again consider your own family, the people that can really put our best intentions to the test–parents, children, grandparents, partners, little brothers and sisters, older brothers and sisters. Think about the week just past, the week ahead and let this little snippet of Paul’s Letter to the Colossians be both examination of conscience and words of encouragement:

Brothers and sisters-
Put on, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved,
heartfelt compassion,
kindness,
humility,
gentleness,
and patience,
bearing with one another and forgiving one another,
if one has a grievance against another;
as the Lord has forgiven you, so must you also do.
And over all these put on love,
that is, the bond of perfection.

In his book Catholicism, Fr Richard McBrien offers this definition of Holiness: “Holiness is the mark of the Church indicating that it is a community being transformed by the indwelling of the Holy Spirit.” And if this is true of our larger church family, it can also be true of each of our families that they can become and indeed are communities being transformed by the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. Mc Brien says:

“Christian loving also means a readiness to take risks, to accept pain and disappointment. ….Loving demands a state of intensity and commitment. Christian love cannot coexist with indifference. Indeed, the opposite of love is not hate but apathy, a lack of concern, a suspension of commitment (literally apathy means to be “without pain”). …If love is the soul of Christian existence, it must be at the heart of every other Christian virtue. Thus…, justice without love is legalism; faith without love is ideology; hope without love is self-centeredness; forgiveness without love is self-abasement; fortitude without love is recklessness; generosity without love is is extravagance; care without love is mere duty; fidelity without love is servitude. Every virtue is an expression of love. No virtue is really a virtue unless it is permeated by love.”
May each our holy families be places where everyone – the young and the old, the sick and the well, those with great capacity for independence and those with none – where each one might be safe, cherished, have dignity, feel valued, know God’s presence and his or her own call to holiness–not holiness as chilly self-righteous piety but goodness that is a light in the dark and warmth in the cold.

3rd Sunday of Lent (scrutiny) Woman at the Well

for some reason I never got around to putting this one up during Lent, here it is now for your enjoyment… (just close your eyes and imagine its spring, I mean after you’ve finished reading, because you can’t read with your eyes closed)

When I was little it seemed I was always in trouble, going barefoot when I was supposed to keep my shoes on, wandering in the woods and forgetting to tell anyone where I was going, reading when I was supposed to be doing homework, always getting dirty and making messes, half the time I could be found up a tree and the other half coming home with bloody knees and elbows from wiping out on my bike. When Michael Domizio called me ‘bossy’ in the fourth grade he said it as if it meant exile – nobody likes a bossy girl. and in fifth grade after a series of trips to the principal’s office for getting in fist fights with boys I knew he must be right. All the pictures and statues in church showed girls and women with downcast eyes and pristine robes. No grass stains on their knees, not a single dirty fingernail. We sang songs of obedient Mary, meek and mild. I was sure there was no hope for me.

I love today’s gospel story, though my past is not nearly as colorful the Samaritan woman, this woman at the well is someone I can identify with. Cantankerous, argumentative, someone who had quit trying to fit in because she knew it just wasn’t going to happen. But none of that seems to be a hindrance to Jesus, he almost seems to relish her rebelliousness.

It’s easy to hear this story with modern ears and miss the absolute impossibility of it. This woman, and Jesus, are breaking all the rules. She doesn’t belong at the well at midday, all the respectable women have come early in the morning to get their water. He shouldn’t be talking to her she is his enemy, a Samaritan, one of those who practiced an impure and adulterated version of Judaism AND she is a woman, unaccompanied. The risk and scandal of this conversation is difficult for us to grasp.

John’s Gospel offers us this conversion story on two levels. On a Grand symbolic level John explores important themes:

–the new life brought to all by Jesus,

–right worship –the “five husbands” Jesus references may represent the other Gods the Samaritans serve instead of following the covenant of the One God-

–the well in the Hebrew scriptures is a symbol for wisdom and for the law and a gift from God;

But also on a literal and very concrete level John’s story reveals to us:

- an outcast who becomes the first missionary when she shares her encounter with the others in her town

- an enemy who believes in Jesus Messiahship before the disciples themselves begin to understand,

- a person looking for love in all the wrong places and finding something worth so much more in what Jesus offers her

Jesus looks through her eyes and into her soul as if to say: I know who you are, I know where you’ve been, and I want to offer you something better, I invite you to drink in a love and a promise and a fullness of life, unsurpassed. Jesus repurposes her anger and turns it into a fire that shares the zeal of her discovery, that he himself is the messiah, the living water.

Jesus gift IS greater than Jacob’s. Jesus will replace God’s gifts with himself. The old locations for prayer, limited by geography and ritual will be swept away and people will worship ‘in spirit and in truth’. Now the living waters will be an internal spring of Jesus teaching and the Holy Spirit. It will be IN the faithful as God’s gift to them.

Today is the third Sunday of Lent-that point in our preparation and penitence where we can get tired and lose heart. Like those grumbly Israelites in the desert. We need to be reminded of God’s constant, daily, hourly, moment by moment providence from the love in our lives to each breath that we take. We fast and pray and sacrifice so that we will not fall victim to the false notion that what we accomplish is all our own doing. As much as we might prefer to be something else- as human creatures we are fragile, dependent, needy. Letting ourselves become hungry and thirsty reminds us – we are limited – it allows us hear the call of psalmist: ‘harden not your hearts’

The closer we get to Easter the more we are called to a change of heart. Over the next few weeks we’ll hear a series of conversion stories- each more dramatic than the one before- this weekend’s story of the Samaritan woman at the well, next week the man born blind is read, and then the story of Lazarus being raised. The gospel readings move us from sin to holiness, from blindness to sight, from death to life.

Each of us can stand in the place of the Samaritan woman, and in the place of the Israelites, each of us has challenged, grumbled, turned from what God has called us to, taken God’s goodness for granted, but may this Lent be our heart changing encounter with Jesus at the well: whoever drinks the water I shall give will never thirst.

May this Lent be our conversion: the water I give will become in YOU a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

29th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B (also Youth Sunday for St Paul’s)

There was once an expert in adolescents, he taught courses, he wrote books, he gave workshops, and made television appearances. His knowledge and understanding of teenagers was unsurpassed. One summer he had remodeled the exterior of his house, re-landscaped and on the afternoon the workers had poured the front walk he came out to survey their work, delighted with the transformation taking place. As he opened the front door he saw a young teen at the end of the walk carving his initials in the drying concrete. The man was furious. He immediately called the police and had the boy arrested. The story made the local news and when the reporter asked why someone of his expertise was not a little more understanding of a young person’s behavior he replied “I like teenagers in the abstract…just not in the concrete.”

It’s not a true story but it does illustrate the point nicely (and with a terrible pun at the end, my favorite) that there are many people who like the IDEA of having young people around, but the reality can be a little messy.

Not too long ago I took a team of our teen staff to help with a confirmation retreat in a nearby diocese. I was startled and disheartened by the attitudes of the adults, three times I was pulled aside by different adults and warned that ‘this year’s group of candidates was the WORST they’d ever taught”. Though the teens were enthusiastic in their participation and clearly had much to give and take from the day, the adults remained grim-faced and critical—scolding anyone who laughed or participated spontaneously. When we came to the point in the day where we talked about living out our faith our teens asked the confirmation candidates about the things they were already doing… are any of you lectors? No hands went up, what about Eucharistic ministers? The kids looked at us funny “You have to be an adult” someone said quietly. As we drove away. our teens wondered aloud why any of the kids would want to come back after confirmation if this is how they were treated.

Working at a place like St Paul’s it’s easy for me to become complacent. This is a community that has learned well (and continues to learn) not only to welcome young people but to let them know their gifts are valued, that they are allowed and expected to make real contributions to the life of our community. That they can serve just as they are, not as miniature adults but with everything that comes with adolescence-with their impertinent questions and their wild imaginations, their idealism and their skepticism.

To all of our teenagers, whether you are involved here or who serve in other arenas of your life, I want to take this opportunity to encourage you with the words of Pope John Paul II “You are not the future of the church. You are the church TODAY”. Discipleship is about THIS moment. Live it now, don’t wait, the world needs you, we need you.

This is a community that has taken seriously our Diocesan guidelines on adolescents and liturgical ministries: “Gifted to Serve” that identifies Baptism as the sacrament from which flows both our call and our right to serve. Young people are invited–and have answered that invitation–to participate. They are lectors, Eucharistic ministers, and sacristans, they participate in music ministry and as acolytes, they lead children’s liturgy of the word and beyond the liturgy they teach in our school of religion and help with Vacation Bible School, coffee & donuts and many other ministries as well. In youth ministry teenagers go through leadership training and are responsible for planning and leading youth group meetings and retreats.

At crossroads we try to live out the call of today’s gospel and reinforce the idea that to be a leader doesn’t mean you have to be the best or the loudest. That God can use all kinds of gifts and the best way to lead is to serve. At a teen staff training a few years ago some of the experienced staff was teaching new staff about their role. One of the senior guys talked about why he came back after his first youth group meeting. “We’d gone into small groups,” he said, “and they started the discussion. as each person took their turn, they all knew each other, everybody listened. Then it got to be my turn,and they listened to me, they didn’t even know me, and they listened. So I came back. You can do that for someone else, you can listen.”

Part of the human condition is ambition, the desire to be recognized and admired by our peers to be bigger and better than anyone has ever been before- to be “the most”, the first, the best. But Jesus says, true greatness comes in letting go of all that human desire and letting yourself be “the least”. Providing well for our families, being at the top our field, making the grade, landing the account, making the team, all of these can be wonderful things but Jesus is telling us, that’s not what makes someone great, he continually chooses the least and holds them up- the hyperbole to show us how things work in God’s understanding- God loves the least and the little, there is nothing we can do or become that would MAKE God love us more. God already loves us infinitely, intimately, and laid down his life to save us from our own ambitions.

We shouldn’t feel too bad for getting it wrong sometimes. Dorothy Day the great founder of the Catholic Worker movement is famous for her quote, “Don’t call me a saint. I don’t want to be dismissed that easily.” She didn’t want anyone to think that the dirty work of caring for the needy was the exclusive realm of “other, more holy” people. She wanted everyone to know how flawed she was so that all people would know that the work of being a disciple was also their work. I think the gospel writers may have had a similar idea with the way they seem to paint the apostles as imbeciles. No sooner has Jesus told the apostles he’s about to die than James and John ask if they can sit next to him at the party.

James and John are with Jesus at the transfiguration, they will be with him in the garden, even they get it wrong. When they ask for a promise of personal glory from Jesus, to be at his right and left, they are not aware that the places on Jesus left and right will be on a cross. Can you drink of the destiny that God has poured out for me?  Jesus asks them. Can you be baptized, overwhelmed, flooded, with the same baptism? Can you desire greatness and yet make yourself the lowest? Can you look despair in the face and dare to see hope? Can you let go of your own selfishness and think of the needs of others? Can you let go of the status, wealth, power and prestige that this world loves so well and embrace the small and the simple and be one with them be one of them? We are also called to drink this cup, we are also baptized with this strange death-into-life baptism.

If the Son of Man serves humanity to the point of death, those of us who follow in his way must also lay down our lives. The greatness of discipleship is measured, not in terms of position in the community or glory in the kingdom, but by the extent to which the disciple resembles Jesus who serves and gives his life.

One of the great themes of Mark’s gospel is how Jesus embraces his own humanity. It also makes the point again and again, there will be suffering on this road. Jesus keeps telling his followers, and us, to go to the most unlikely place, the most unlikely person and let God surprise you with his presence and love. Be like a little child, perhaps even a teenager, a poor man, a blind man, a servant, a slave, let go of everything and in that you will find the kingdom

Who Do You Say that I Am?

This weekend’s Momily – B 24^th Sun in OT

(with a special thanks to Sue V. for the puppy story!!!)

http://www.usccb.org/nab/091309.shtml#gospel

intro:

When comedian Yakov Smirnoff first came to the United States from the old Soviet Union he was not prepared for the incredible variety of instant products available in American grocery stores. He says, “On my first shopping trip, I saw powdered milk–you just add water, and you get milk. Then I saw powdered orange juice–you just add water, and you get orange juice. And then I saw baby powder…………

…….and I thought to myself, “What a country!”

In our readings today we hear that being a disciple–following Jesus–isn’t instant, it isn’t easy, and that true faith is shown not just by what we say we believe but by our willingness to put our faith into action.

………………………………..

My friend Sue tells a story from when her daughter was young- at three years old Becky wasn’t talking much, she could speak she just didn’t. The pediatrician recommended getting her a pet-she’ll talk to the pet and before you know it she’ll be talking to people too–he told them. And so, sneakers a miniature poodle came into their lives. One morning shortly thereafter Becky came downstairs with hair askew and pajamas twisted and the puppy held under her arm. But Sue noticed something amiss. Becky held the puppy tail end out. “Becky, why are you holding the puppy upside-down? And then Becky spoke her first complete sentence: “This end don’t bite”

In our Gospel today Peter shows a similar aversion to the unpleasant side of discipleship. He’s with Becky, and if I’m being honest I have to admit I am to,…discipleship can be really difficult, we all prefer the end that doesn’t bite.

Jesus asks the disciples as they walk along the road together “Who do people say that I am?” The disciples share with him the word on the street, the common misunderstandings- “Maybe John the Baptist, they say, or Elijah, or one of the prophets.” And its easy to understand why people might think this. Jesus sounded like these other men; he called people to conversion and covenant love, he taught with fire and passion just as the ancient prophets had done. He looked like these other men; he healed, reached out to the poor and the outcast, and performed miracles as they had done.

But then poor unsuspecting Peter, who had both incredible insight and stupefying blindness, breaks through with the startling revelation. When Jesus asks his friends“But you, who do you say that I am?” Peter answers him–in Mark’s Gospel his response is rendered as the Greek word for messiah, the anointed one–Peter’s shocking, scandalous answer “You are the Christ.”

So shocking that Jesus swore them all to secrecy, lest his messiah-ship be too soon revealed and be misunderstood- that people might think him just a wonderworker or a worldly leader on the brink of a military takeover.

Peter recognizes Jesus for who he really is, though he might look and sound like others who have come before, there is something unique, something so different and still, there is one important element that even Peter does not yet understand. Moments after his astounding profession of faith he protests when Jesus begins to explain the road ahead.

This passage could be called a summary of Mark’s Gospel. In narrative form it articulates Mark’s central themes of suffering, the identity of Jesus as the Christ, and then discipleship in response to that Christological knowledge – Scripture scholars say that Mark’s emphasis on the suffering and humanity of Jesus may have been a warning to his community not to slide into assumptions of Jesus as a superhero to hold tight to the idea that while Jesus was divine he was also human, and more, was willing to make himself the servant, did not turn away from the road before him even when it became clear that it would be a difficult one.

The gospel says that Peter pulled him aside and rebuked Jesus for speaking of his own suffering and death. Lord, I thought we were on the road to glory? And Jesus corrects Peter- If you want to follow me Peter, don’t get ahead of me. Get behind me. The road to glory IS the road of suffering, the road of humility, of service and even death

Our readings today point us toward two arenas of spiritual life – first, knowing Jesus and second, living as his disciples. But we have some problems. As Deacon Mark mentioned-there is so much that is immediate about modern life for us, from convenience products to instant communication–as Americans we have a tendency to expect instant everything. Knowing Jesus and then becoming one of his followers isn’t quick. That’s one problem, and then there’s the puppy problem-none of us likes the end that bites. Discipleship is difficult, it involves suffering, becoming less self-centered and more other centered.

That first element of our spirituality “to know Jesus” is the challenge of today’s gospel – and it IS a challenge to set aside all those things that keep us busy and distracted, and make seeking Christ a priority. We already do it every Sunday-listening to the word, encountering him in the Eucharist. There are lots of opportunities right here at St. Paul’s to find out more about who Jesus is-we have a great library, there are educational programs for every age level along with many many opportunities to serve. When any of the youth group members is looking for more I suggest picking a gospel to read. The gospel of Mark is the shortest, if you have a big enough cup of coffee you can practically read it in one sitting. The question “who do you say I am”, for each of us, for all of us, is a lifelong journey.

The second element of our spirituality “to become disciples” is addressed in both the Gospel and the reading from James. The gospel names it and James tells us how. The task that Jesus sets before Peter, and each of us, is to lay down our lives in service and love. As followers of Jesus ours is a different path. To “get behind” Jesus, is to go the way that does not flee from suffering-our own or other peoples- buts walks through suffering with faith, that meets need with action, that greets pain with a healing hope, and conquers hatred with a love bigger then the universe it created.

To become disciples means to become more and more like the One we profess to follow: the Servant of all.

To be a disciple of Christ, means that we too are called to lay down our lives, to die to ourselves and our own selfishness:

· in daily living to avoid the sharp retort and let heal the old grudge

· in work to seek not only profit and personal gain but an ethical way of interacting with other people and God’s creation

· in our society to seek solutions that lift up the lowly and

· in our relationships both with family and friends to honor each other as daughters and sons of God.

To be a disciple IS to come to know Jesus as Peter eventually did, with no fear, to be able to say “You are the Christ” because we know it, and to reveal that to others by the lives that we lead.

Summer’s End

It was cold last night. The kind of cold that leaves you shivering in your flip-flops. I’m trying to make myself come to terms with summer’s end with very little success. I want three more weeks of hot days and warm nights, coffee on the deck, softball and ice cream, campfires and fireflies. Who’s with me?

Homily from Holy Family Sunday (cycle B)

In the chaos and messiness of my own family life I sometimes look at the Holy Family and think – yeah, it’s easy to be holy when one of you is conceived without sin, two of you are regularly visited by angels and the third one is…well…God.

Maybe you’ve heard the story of the distraught mother of eight who came to the elderly parish priest one Saturday afternoon. “My family is driving me crazy Father,” she admitted, “ I don’t know how much longer I can put up with them all. The children are always fighting, my husband is no help at all, I don’t know what to do anymore. ” “Now, now dear,” he interrupted her, patting her hand “we only need to look to the example of the Holy Family…” the woman gave him a look that stopped him cold, “Father,” she replied, “don’t you dare give me those two and their one!”

No matter the construct and character of your family–small or large, obviously faith-filled or not so much, made up of whatever combination of relatives and friends in close community supporting each other– we are all called to holiness. The scriptures offer us a number of interesting characters today whose answer to God ‘I can’t see the end but I will trust you now’, helps us hang on to those lessons learned in advent- we wait in joyful, faithful, hope.

-Simeon a man ‘righteous and devout’ who had received a promise from the Holy Spirit that he would not see death until he had seen the Lord

-Anna who as a young widow had embraced a life of fasting and prayer and now as an old woman, a prophetess, shares the good news that the savior has been born. ‘Anna is a reminder that disaster is not God’s last word: Jesus remains for Jerusalem [and for us] a sign of hope’

-Mary & Joseph – the family of the savior of the world whose offering in the temple is that of the poor, not a ram or a sheep but a pair of doves, a young couple who continue to say yes to God’s plan and remain faithful even in the face of displacement, poverty, danger and pain. “And you yourself a sword will pierce” Simeon tells her.

-Sarah who laughs when she hears God’s plan for her to have a child in her old age and yet follows and believes.

-Abraham who believes in God’s promise to him “Look up at the sky and count the stars, if you can. Just so shall your descendants be.”

Our reading from Hebrews focuses on Abraham’s response to God. Throughout we hear the echoes of that hope in God’s promise, ‘I can’t see the end but I will trust you now’ . The opening line of the chapter: Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen. It might make more sense to our modern ears in this passage to say “in faith”.  IN faith Abraham obeyed, became a father, was ready to sacrifice his son; ‘he went out, not knowing where he was to go’. This segment is part of a longer passage whose climax ultimately points to Jesus response to God IN faith: ‘For the sake of the joy that lay before him he endured the cross’.

And that curious mix of joy and pain that seems integral to family life is evident in each of the people that we meet in today’s readings–Simeon’s long wait for the chosen one and his delight at holding the child who would save the world, Anna’s despair at widowhood and gratitude at witnessing salvation. The name given to Abraham’s long awaited offspring is Isaac – a name which means ‘he laughed’. I followed Isaac’s story back and forward in these chapters of Genesis to find Abraham giggling on the floor in prayer-

-Abraham prostrated himself and laughed as he said to himself, “Can a child be born to a man who is a hundred years old?” Gen 17:17

-And Sarah chuckling as she eavesdrops outside the tent to hear the news-”Now that I am so withered and my husband is so old…

-And God questioning Abraham in the manner of an old friend- “Why did Sarah laugh? …Is anything too marvelous for the LORD to do? At the appointed time… I will return to you, and Sarah will have a son.” Gen 18

-And finally in Sarah amusement turns to deep joy. She declares,”God has given me cause to laugh, and all who hear of it will laugh with me.”

Descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as countless as the sands on the seashore. And it all began with laughter. There are certainly those moments in family life of surprise and joy but sometimes it’s more ‘you gotta laugh or you’re gonna cry’, and there are other times when there is no laughter at all. When the joke is the kind of ‘yougottabekiddingme’ that leaves you looking at the ashes of your life wondering what happened. When life pulls the rug out from under us and our family has suddenly changed whether through distance or death, estrangement or unfaithfulness, trusting God, or anyone else for that matter can seem impossible.

There is a story I tell sometimes to parents going through a difficult period with a son or daughter. It is a tale about a daughter stolen by the fairies… The little girl is stolen in the night. She returns as a dove and tells her mother to meet the fairies when they pass by at the full moon. “When you see me pass by, take hold of me. You must hold on to me, no matter what happens, only then can I come back to you” The mother goes at the appointed time, sees her daughter and takes hold of her. She holds on even when the daughter turns into snakes that bite and when the daughter becomes fire that burns her, and spikes that pierce her. The mother holds on knowing that to let go means she will lose her daughter. The fairies pass by and the daughter is returned.

It is only a story and there are children lost that do not return and families changed forever by tragedy and choice that will not become whole again in the ways they were whole in the past. But this story does point to the truth that often loving a child means being willing to be hurt.

In his book Catholicism Fr Richard McBrien offers this definition of holiness: “Mark of the Church indicating that it is a community being transformed by the indwelling of the Holy Spirit” and if this is true of our larger church family, it can also be true of each of our families that they can become and indeed are communities being transformed by the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. Mc Brien says:

“Christian loving also means a readiness to take risks, to accept pain and disappointment. ….Loving demands a state of intensity and commitment. Christian love cannot coexist with indifference. Indeed, the opposite of love is not hate but apathy, a lack of concern, a suspension of commitment (literally apathy means to be “without pain”). …If love is the soul of Christian existence, it must be at the heart of every other Christian virtue. Thus…, justice without love is legalism; faith without love is ideology; hope without love is self-centeredness; forgiveness without love is self-abasement; fortitude without love is recklessness; generosity without love is is extravagance; care without love is mere duty; fidelity without love is servitude. Every virtue is an expression of love. No virtue is really a virtue unless it is permeated ,or informed, by love.”

Our Gospel today tells us that in the Holy Family: the child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom; and the favor of God was upon him May each our holy families be places where everyone – the young and the old, the sick and the well, those with great capacity for independence and those with none – where each one might be safe, cherished, have dignity, feel valued, know God’s presence and his or her own call to holiness–not holiness as chilly self-righteous piety but goodness that is a light in the darkness and warmth in the cold and a faith that can say ‘I can’t see the end but I will trust you now’

The Poet, the Prophet, and a Prayer

I have a friend who loves to recount how busy she is. She wears her to-do list as a badge of honor. Sometimes it seems that she only calls to complain about it. She goes through the litany, “First I’ve gotta do this, then this, then this” I caught myself one phone call thinking, ‘I don’t have time to listen to how busy you are, I’ve got too much to do!’

I took a few steps back from the busy-ness recently for an overnight retreat with other youth ministers and catechetical leaders, given by an old friend and mentor who is now the director of the National Federation for Catholic Youth Ministry Bob McCarty. Among other things he is responsible for NCYC, a national conference for 20,000 catholic high-schoolers. Suffice it to say Bob knows ‘busy’. On our retreat he talked about our tendency in today’s world to ‘live fast but not deep’. He talked about balancing the poet and the prophet in our lives. The prophet calls us to action. The prophet says ‘don’t just sit there, DO something.’ The poet calls us to contemplation. The poet says ‘don’t just do something, sit there’. Our task as disciples, and especially as ministers, is that we must do both. It is not only about being spurred to action but also about being inspired to attentiveness.

Bob tells the story of a prayer that he and a group of troubled teens he was working with developed – as they shared the difficulties of following God with all the problems, distractions, abuse and addictions they faced every day they knew they needed a daily reminder, something simple but powerful that would remind them to do that 180 each day, they settled on shoes. Each morning their prayer, as they put on their shoes, became “Lord, help me turn to you.”

Though demographically the lay-ecclesial minister might not seem to have much in common with the at-risk teen, I think we might do well to borrow this ‘turning’ prayer-

When I am out of energy …..“Lord, help me turn to you.”

When I am frustrated with my colleagues…..“Lord, help me turn to you.”

When I cannot find you…..“Lord, help me turn to you.”

When the day will be difficult …..“Lord, help me turn to you.”

When the obstacles are too big for me…..“Lord, help me turn to you.”

When my own heart is too broken to care for someone else’s …..“Lord, help me turn to you.”

When everything’s just fine …..“Lord, help me turn to you.”

When I start to think I’m a little better than everybody else …..“Lord, help me turn to you.”

When I am profoundly grateful …..“Lord, help me turn to you.”

In the busy-ness of the day…..“Lord, help me turn to you.”

In the quiet of the night …..“Lord, help me turn to you.”

In Quiet Rebellion, Parishioners Keep Faith – NYTimes.com

In Quiet Rebellion, Parishioners Keep Faith – NYTimes.com.

Came across this in the Times – what an interesting point we”ve reached in the church.

BustedHalo.com: The 2008 Freshman Survival Guide

Busted Halo » Features » The 2008 Freshman Survival Guide.

This is the writing project that ate my summer but I’m pretty happy with it. The 2008 Freshman Survival Guide is a compilation of advice from upperclassmen, RA’s, profs, administrators, and campus ministers. Advice on how not to crash and burn in your first semester. (And before long it will also become a book!)

Writing Sample 2: Dying, You Destroyed Our Death

Homily for Good Friday:

The liturgical documents tell us “the Easter Triduum of the passion and resurrection of Christ is the culmination of the entire liturgical year. What Sunday is to the week, the solemnity of Easter is to the liturgical year”. Triduum, the three days, Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday – though we gather and part, gather and part again, it is all one liturgy.

Last night we received the oils for healing and anointing that were blessed by the Bishop at Tuesday’s Chrism mass, we washed each other’s feet to remember the new commandment Jesus gave us “love one another as I have loved you” and we celebrated the institution of the Eucharist at the last supper, but that was yesterday. Tomorrow we will literally and figuratively pull out all the stops to move from the darkness of death to the brilliant light of resurrection- we will baptize and anoint eat and drink. With voice and instrument, with prayer and scripture, and incense with water oil, flame, bread and wine, we will joyfully celebrate … but that is tomorrow.

Today, now, this is Good Friday, the most difficult place to be, a most difficult place to stay and keep watch. We fast and pray today, we keep quiet, we keep a day stripped bare of celebration, because today is the day the Lord’s love was shown for us in the most terrible and beautiful of ways.

In today’s reading of the passion we end with the cross and the grave. Though Jesus has the burial of a King, a hundred pounds of myrrh and aloe, reminiscent of the gift of the magi and of the woman who anoints Jesus feet with rich oil, yet it is still a burial, today’s gospel ends with Jesus closed in the tomb……

and yet… we know how the story ends. As Paul’s letter to the Hebrews encourages us “Let us hold fast to our profession of faith” we are people of faith and of certain hope.

What is Good Friday for? What does it mean that we have a savior who suffered, who died? It is today that we are invited to make sense of our own suffering. It is today, when we seem almost to drown, immersed as we are in the knowledge of our own human limitation and suffering, our own brokenness and sin that we can say with a fierce knowledge: dying you destroyed our death!

The Paschal Mystery is another name for that crossroads, the place where faith and real life meet. Today we are drawn deep into the heart of that mystery. It’s the church’s name for the life, death, and resurrection of Christ but it’s not just a theological concept. The Paschal Mystery is a kind of roadmap for getting through our own lives- a model for knowing that our “dyings” come with “risings” built in. For me it means knowing I have a confidante and a companion who understands the deep joy and the terrible pain of being human. Jesus’ suffering & death makes me know that I have someone who has faced the worst human beings can do to each other, torture and death, and didn’t run from it. The Paschal Mystery reminds me that in the name of love someone surrendered everything, and the power of that love made something completely new happen.

Every time we read the passion, year after year, Good Friday after Good Friday, I find that each year’s experience has wrought changes in me that cause me to encounter it anew, from a different perspective. Some years I am the authorities, not wanting a savior at all. Some years I am Pilate not understanding who Jesus is and why he is doing this for people who clearly don’t care. Some years, the beloved disciple offering care and shelter to those whose grief leaves them without it. Some years I am Mary of Magdala standing in agony at the foot of the cross as I witness Jesus’ own agony. I am Peter, denying Jesus and yet following him because though terrified I cannot be torn away from him.

We will venerate the cross. We are each invited to show some sign of reverence. We honor the cross today, not only because it is the symbol of Christ’s passion, but because this sign of his suffering has become the sign of our redemption, not only the sign of suffering but a symbol of that place where “dying he destroyed our death and rising, he restored our life”. The instrument of death becomes a way to new life.

Our translation of Jesus words on the cross is imperfect. It is not simply, it is finished but what Jesus said was “it is accomplished”. What a simple phrase to use when what was accomplished was our salvation, yours, and mine. Today is the day; the cross is the place where after he gave up his spirit –blood and water flowed from his side. Like an expectant mother who surrenders her body and her blood to give new life, Jesus by his body and blood births the whole world into new life.

When next we gather it will be to keep watch in the dark of Easter night, to light the fire and wait for the good news of the resurrection until then, “Let us hold fast to our profession of faith” we are people of faith and of certain hope.