Trinity Sunday

A story’s told that St. Augustine, one of the great intellectuals of our western world, was walking along the seashore one day and saw a little boy playing on the beach, taking water from the sea in a small bucket and pouring it into a hole he had dug in the sand. Back the forth the boy went.

“What are you doing?” Augustine asked, “Do you think you can put the whole sea into that little hole?”

“No,” the little boy answered, “And neither can you put God into that small mind of yours no matter how smart you think you are.”

The story reminds us how limited our minds are before the mystery of God, even the smartest, most brilliant minds,   God is beyond us. The Feast of the Holy Trinity is a reminder of how incapable we are to know God completely.

And yet, this feast also reminds us that God has approached us and revealed  himself to us as Father, Son and Holy Spirit. As Father, God’s the creator of heaven and earth. All creation ultimately comes from God’s hand. The gift of life, the gift of all things. God, our Father and Creator, has given us everything. Through these same gifts we come to know him.

God has also made himself known to us in Jesus Christ, who was born of Mary over two thousand years ago, who walked this earth and died on a cross, who rose from the dead and remains with us in his church and his sacraments.  We have his words, his actions, his promises. He’s our Savior and Redeemer, a sign of God’s love;  he’s promised us life eternal..

The Holy Spirit also is God with us, within us, guiding us and our world to our common destiny.

Yet,  though we believe that God reveals himself to us, we’re still like the little boy on the seashore. We’re looking at an unmeasured sea that we approach with the little buckets of our minds. We can’t grasp it all.

You remember the story of the conversion of Paul the Apostle; one of the most dramatic stories in the scriptures. Saui, the unbeliever, was on his way to the City of Damascus to persecute the followers of Jesus, when suddenly a blinding light throws him from his horse. “Who are you, Lord?” Paul cries out. “I am Jesus whom you persecute, “ the voice from the blinding light says.

Jesus Christ is like the blinding light of the sun. He shares in the nature of God, who is brighter than sunlight, who blinds us when we try to see him. God dwells in light inaccessible, the scriptures say. So, even though we know so much about Jesus from the scriptures, even though great scholars can describe him, he is still beyond anything we can know.

Like the sun, Jesus is like a blinding light, yet, paradoxically a light that shines into the darkness of creation to give life and light. At the beginning of his gospel,  St. John says: “No one has ever seen God. The only Son, God, who is at the Father’s side, has revealed him.” (John 1,18)

As people of faith we’re not like those who say you can’t know God at all or like those who say God doesn’t exist because my mind cannot grasp him. Yet, as people of faith we know God little by little. That’s why we come to church week by week, that’s why we pray for our daily bread, that why we search for God in life as it unfolds day by day.

As we consider the mystery of God today we also have to recognize that we are children of the Enlightenment, that movement in our western world that tells us there’s no need to pay much attention to God. Pay attention to the world at hand. Pay attention to yourself.  That’s the important thing.

But, we should never leave the sea. We’re meant to stand before the mystery of God and reach out to him with our minds and to love him with our hearts, small as they are.

There’s a trivialization of the mystery of God today.  I think you can see it in the way the name of God and the name of Jesus Christ are tossed about in our ordinary talk. “You shall not take the name of the Lord, your God, in vain.”   You can see it in God’s absence from our culture, our schools, our media. our homes. You can see it in the belittling of our church and the signs of God’s presence. Even churches can become human gathering spaces, instead of holy places where we meet God.

The Feast of the Holy Trinity is a holy reminder of the mystery of God at the center of our life and the life of our world.

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Ordinary Time

The Easter season is over after the Feast of Pentecost and we’re into ordinary time in the church year. Unlike other feasts, Pentecost has no octave; ordinary time is its octave. Truth to be told, most of the church year, like most of life, is ordinary time, and that means it’s the time of the Holy Spirit.

The best place to look for the role of the Holy Spirit in our lives in ordinary time is probably the scriptures at Pentecost. Some of them recall the Spirit’s dramatic appearance, but others remind us that the Spirit comes quietly, when we’re hardly aware.

The Spirit dramatically came on the Jewish feast of Pentecost, fifty days after Passover, according to the Acts of the Apostles. (Acts 2,1-11) Strong winds and tongues of fire came upon the disciples gathered in the Upper Room, the Cenacle, and they were filled with energy and joy. Immediately, confidently, they preach the gospel to people from the ends of the earth gathered in Jerusalem for the feast. “Where did these Galileans get all this?” their amazed hearers ask.

“Their message goes out to all the earth,” to Asia Minor, to Rome, Africa, Asia. Occasionally, the Spirit works like this in the church and in the world.

But more often the Holy Spirit comes quietly as an everyday gift. We may prefer strong winds and tongues of fire, but the Spirit mostly comes quietly, in ordinary time.

John’s gospel, read also on the Feast of Pentecost, probably best describes the quiet coming of the Spirit. When the Risen Lord appears to his disciples on Easter Sunday, they’re locked in a room in fear, fallen and dispirited, expecting nothing except that things will get worse. Then, Jesus appears and wishes them peace and shows them the wounds in his hands and side. Then he breathes on them and says “Receive the Holy Spirit.” (John 20,19-23)

What’s more quiet and ordinary than breathing? Yet in this simple act, Jesus breathes the Holy Spirit on them. Why does he show them the wounds in his hands and side? They’re signs that everything that evil could do to him was done to him, yet he conquered every evil, even death.

We’re tend to minimize ordinary time. So ordinary. Nothing’s happening, we say. Yet, day by day in ordinary time the Risen Lord offers his peace and shows us his wounds. Every day he breathes the Spirit on us. No day goes by without the Spirit’s quiet blessing.

Praying at Mass

Recently, I’ve noticed a decline in the number of people at Mass in the parish where I go.  People are busy, of course. Some say they don’t get much out of it. Whatever the reasons, US Catholics aren’t going to Mass as they did before.

We have new texts for Mass, will they turn things around?  I doubt it. Better preaching? That would help. But there’s more. We need to look at the way we pray at Mass and prayerfully participate in it.  The Mass is the central act of our faith, and we need to bring everything we have– our minds, our memories, ourselves– to it.

We’re there to pray, from the moment we enter the church to the moment we leave. Only by praying at Mass will we appreciate it.

The way we pray at Mass is simple. It begins as we enter church and make the Sign of the Cross. It’s a key to a world of faith. Taking  holy water  we bless ourselves “In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.” We are reminding ourselves  that we’re blessed by God with the gift of life and everything it means through Jesus Christ. Water is a sign of that life. The bread we take is another. They stand for the totality of blessings we receive and we acknowledge our blessings and give thanks through them.

Jesus said “If anyone is thirsty come to me.” He also said “I am the bread of life.” As we make the Sign of the Cross,  we’re reminded we’re at the source of life now and of life everlasting, Jesus Christ. We’re blessed by his life, death and resurrection. We trace his sign on ourselves, on our foreheads, our hearts and our shoulders. We’re blessed in mind and heart and all our being.

So, as Mass begins, the priest leads us into this great  act of blessing and thanksgiving by inviting us to make the Sign of the Cross.

Notice we bless ourselves  a number of times at Mass besides its beginning.  We bless ourselves as the gospel is proclaimed, asking that our minds and hearts be blessed to hear God’s Word. We bless ourselves as we leave the church at the end of the Mass, because we carry God’s blessings to our world.

Besides the Sign of the Cross,  simple acclamations at Mass  draw us into this blessed mystery. So,  as the priest concludes a prayer or action, we often say “Amen” an ancient Hebrew word, which means “Yes” we agree. The “Amen” at Mass calls us into the blessing of God. Simple word like “Amen”  draw us to the prayer of the church.

“The Lord be with you.” “Lift up your hearts.” “Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.”

Listen carefully to those words and the readings, the songs and the music at Mass. Say them and mean them. Sing them when they’re sung, for“Someone who sings well prays twice.” So we join our voices in song. At Mass we pray together.

We pray with our eyes, too, as we see the actions and signs of Mass. Walking, kneeling, standing are prayers. Simple actions, like bowing and offering our hand to receive the Host are prayers. At Mass we pray with our whole being. Our walking, seeing, listening, speaking become acts of prayer that bring us into the presence of God.

Of course, we often come to Mass with a lot of things on our mind that distract us from this great mystery. So often we’re on overload. Our faith may not be the strongest. We have our doubts. We get sunk in the everydayness of our own lives.

But God’s grace is here in this great mystery and God will draw us–weak as we are–into this great mystery.  God will give us– all of us– the gift to pray and find blessings here. God draws us here to bless us.

The Conversion of St. Paul

We usually think of Paul the Apostle as sure of himself, speaker of profound truths, writer of great letters, resolutely on his way to conquer new worlds for Christ. But the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul, which we celebrate today, has him on the ground, all his certainties gone, blinded by a light he scarcely understands.

God’s work of conversion goes on like that. Here’s a poem describing it:

Like Paul

(Phil.4:12)

Like Paul, I know the difference

between lack and abundance.

They are not of my body,

but of my mind and spirit.

I know what it’s like

to have a mind whose room

is empty, bare and dark,

filled with cheerless thoughts;

and a spirit whose wings

have been clipped.

I know what it’s like

to have a mind  whose windows

are open and uplifting thoughts

float in on fresh breezes;

to have a spirit so full and free

it could fly.

When the room is dark,

I pray for the light to come on.

When the room is bright,

I thank God–and pray

that the light will stay on.

Gloria Ziemienski

(From:  There are Times…Pages from a Poet’s Journal )

Feast of the Baptism of Jesus

There’s a high tower on Jerusalem’s Mount of Olives  built in the last century for pilgrims from Russia who couldn’t get to the Jordan River, so they could see where Jesus was baptized at least  from a distance. From the tower they could  look  down too on the places where Jesus was arrested in the garden, where he was crucified and rose again from the dead. I’m sure Bethlehem could also be pointed out from there..

Our liturgy brings us to the Jordan today to  celebrate the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. He shares his mysteries with us in our baptism. The Jordan River–I’ve commented on it elsewhere–is a rich sign of the life we receive in its waters.

Here is Gregory of Nazianzen’s commentary of the Baptism of Jesus, the feast closing the Christmas season today.

“Christ is bathed in light; let us also be bathed in light. Christ is baptised; let us also go down with him, and rise with him.

“John is baptising when Jesus draws near. Perhaps he comes to sanctify his baptiser; certainly he comes to bury sinful humanity in the waters. He comes to sanctify the Jordan for our sake and in readiness for us; he who is spirit and flesh comes to begin a new creation through the Spirit and water.

“The Baptist protests; Jesus insists. Then John says: I ought to be baptised by you. He is the lamp in the presence of the sun, the voice in the presence of the Word, the friend in the presence of the Bridegroom, the greatest of all born of woman in the presence of the firstborn of all creation, the one who leapt in his mother’s womb in the presence of him who was adored in the womb, the forerunner and future forerunner in the presence of him who has already come and is to come again. I ought to be baptised by you: we should also add, “and for you,” for John is to be baptised in blood, washed clean like Peter, not only by the washing of his feet.

“Jesus rises from the waters; the world rises with him. The heavens, like Paradise with its flaming sword, closed by Adam for himself and his descendants, are rent open. The Spirit comes to him as to an equal, bearing witness to his Godhead. A voice bears witness to him from heaven, his place of origin. The Spirit descends in bodily form like the dove that so long ago announced the ending of the flood and so gives honour to the body that is one with God.”

Friday, First Week of Advent

  Readings:

Isaiah 29:17-24:  The deaf shall hear and the blind shall see.

Matthew 9:27-31:  Jesus gives two blind men sight.

Two blind men are among the many healed by Jesus in Matthew’s gospel. They’re healed together and they represent the blind who will see when the Messiah comes, Isaiah says.

Notice there are two of them, not one. Do the two blind men represent a collective blindness, a group blindness, perhaps a group prejudice against certain people, or a way of thinking that distorts how others are seen? Is it more than    physical blindness they share?  The cures Jesus worked touched more than the ills of body.

When John Newton, the former 18^th century captain of an African slave ship, wrote the famous hymn “Amazing grace,” he said he “was blind, but now I see.” It wasn’t physical blindness he described. The tough seaman was converted on a voyage after reading Thomas a Kempis’ “The Imitation of Christ,” and gradually came to see the horrific evil of slavery as well as other vices he had fallen into.

In 1788 after years of debate over the issue in England, Prime Minister William Pitt formed a committee to investigate the slave trade which, until then, was largely seen by the nation as good for their country’s economic welfare. One of its star witnesses was John Newton who described in detail the slave trade and the horrendous practice it was.

This advent may Jesus bring light to our world, our nation, and our church. There are many things we don’t see.

What do you think they are?

Prayers for Thanksgiving Day

“Sing and make music to the Lord in your hearts, always thanking God the Father for all things in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.”  Ephesians 5, 19-20.

In the collect for Thanksgiving Day in the New Roman Missal we pray to God whose “gifts of love are countless…with gratitude for your kindness.”  But gratitude leads us to ask   God to “open our hearts to have concern for every man, woman and child, so that we may share your gifts in loving service.”   Receiving leads to giving.

In the preface of the Mass  we thank God for the “great gift  of freedom, a gift that calls forth responsibility and commitment to the truth that all have a fundamental dignity before you.”  So freedom leads to service of others. “ Help us, we pray, to reach out in love to all your people, so that we may share with them the good things of time and eternity.” (Prayer after Communion)

If we look at thanksgiving that way, I suppose that’s what Meister Eckhart  meant when he said “If the only prayer that you said in your entire life is Thank You, that would suffice.”

O God, your gifts of love are countless

and we thank you for them all.

May our hearts be concerned  like yours for every man, woman and child,

that we might share your gifts with them,

gifts of time and eternity.

Bless the gifts of food and drink we share at this table.

Bless those who prepared them for us,

Bless those we’re called to serve, O Lord, through Jesus Christ.

We give you thanks. Amen.

Presentation in the Temple

I spoke this morning at our mission on the Feast of the Presentation of our Lord. It’s the last of the feasts of Christmas, even though most Christmas decorations have disappeared awhile ago.

The Feast is based mainly on Luke’s Infancy narrative which begins in the temple with the announcement to the priest Zacharias of the birth of John the Baptist and ends with the presentation of Jesus in the temple by Mary and Joseph. The two elderly Jews, Simeon and Anna represent the faithful generations that have been waiting for the Messiah.

Previously, Luke tells of the poor shepherds, the outcasts waiting in the dark, who are greeted by the angels. In Matthew, the gentiles are invited in the coming of the magi. Now the long wait of the Jewish people is rewarded as old Simeon takes the child in his arms and utters a prophecy that he will bring light to his people.

We bless candles today to symbolize our acceptance of the light of Christ.

God was present in the Temple of Jerusalem, the Jews believed. They prayed there and offered sacrifices to the Lord. Luke would have us see that God’s Son is one with his Father as he is presented in the temple. He becomes the new temple, God present in our midst in a unique way.  He is our new High Priest who unites us to the Father by the sacrifice of himself.

Jesus later claims that role as he teaches in the temple and prays there.

God is present to us in different ways. One window in Epiphany Cathedral pictures Abraham, whom God told to journey to a new land. God sent him on a journey to a new land and promised to be with him on that journey. God sends us too on our journey of life and is always present with us as we go, mysterious and uncertain as our journey may be. We are going somewhere beyond anything we see or hope for now.

Another window in the cathedral shows Moses holding the commandments as he comes down from Mount Sinai.  The Jews carried those tablets on the way to the promised land. God was present in his commandments as they made their way through the desert. God is present when we keep his commands. “If you love me, keep my commands.”

When David established his capitol in Jerusalem, he built a temple to hold the Ark of the Covenant. God would be present in this building, which Solomon, his son, made more magnificent. By the time of Jesus, the temple was made even greater by Herod the Great, a master builder and there Jesus often prayed and taught. God was present there.

There will  be holy places, like churches and shrines, where God is present. There will be holy signs, holy actions, like sacraments and sacramentals,  where God is present.

During this mission, I spoke about seeing God present to us as he was to Abraham. We are made in the image of God; let’s see him there in ourselves and others. God is present on our life’s journey. Let’s see him there.

God is present in sacraments and holy signs, in prayers and commandments. Let us find him there.

Thursday: 1st Week of Advent

Readings:

Isaiah 26:1-6:  On the day of the Lord those who depend on God will enter God’s city.

Matthew 7: 21-24-27:  Build your house on rock.

The ancient peoples often built their cities on rocky heights  because they were the safest places to live.  Supplied with water and food and strong defenses, they were less likely to be invaded. That’s why the Jews chose Jerusalem. Built on rock, it was a safe place.

But Isaiah warns against depending on natural resources or human skills and plans alone. Don’t rely on them; they can’t always  save you. The strongest city becomes “a city of chaos” that falls apart without God.

God builds the strong city, the prophet says; he is our Rock and he admits into its gates “ a nation that is just; one that keeps faith.”

Build your  lives on rock, Jesus says in the gospel. Don’t rely on a token faith (Lord, Lord) to save you or like fools build on sand .

“Everyone who listens to these words of mine and acts on them

will be like a wise person who built a house on rock.”

Questions:

A secular society like ours often sees religion as a destructive force or a brake on progress. It turns to  “human reason” alone? How can we depend on God in society today?

How do you build your personal life on rock?

“It is better to take refuge in the LORD

than to trust in man.

It is better to take refuge in the LORD

than to trust in princes.”  (Psalm 118)

Questions About God

 

At a wedding banquet some years ago, a little girl named Chelsea, a flower girl at the wedding, came up and asked if I wanted to see her walk on her heels. And she proceeded to show me how well she could do it.

Then she leaned over and said. “ Could I ask you something?’” I said “Sure.” She said “ What was God doing about a million years ago?”

Well, I had to think for a while about that. Then I said something like  “A million years ago, God was taking care of the sun in the sky, so that it could shine bright every day. And God was counting all the stars. God was making sure there were enough animals around, like giraffes.  About a million years ago, God was taking care of the world and everybody in it, and loved doing it.”

Children ask the best questions, questions that make us think about things we take for granted or maybe we’ve stopped wondering about. Or worse, we may think we know all the answers.

Some of the questions Jesus was asked are like that. “What does God want us to do?” Jesus is asked in today’s gospel. He answered; “God wants you to love him with all your heart, and all your  mind, and all your soul. And he wants you to love your neighbor as yourself.”

A curious child wouldn’t let it go at that. “What does loving God with all your heart, and all your mind and all your soul mean?” “How do you do that?” “”What’s does loving your neighbor like yourself mean?” “Who is my neighbor anyway?”

We should never stop asking those questions either. Questions about God and about love are big questions that open the windows of our minds to a bigger world and the way we live in it. They can make us grow.

I suppose that’s why Jesus told us that only by becoming a child will we enter the kingdom of heaven. Don’t lose the sense of wonder a child has. Don’t lose the curiosity of a child. Don’t lose the imagination of a child.

I think this is true especially in religious matters. “ I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth.” What does that mean? “I believe in the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting.” What does that mean?

We need a childlike curiosity and imagination when we approach stories from scripture. My last blog was about an artist who tells the story of Martha and Mary and Jesus in Bethany. He had a wonderful childlike imagination. Take a look at the way at the way he tells that great story.

God meets us through the Word made flesh, Jesus Christ. It’s a wonderful story. Let’s not make it too small or forget it.