Today, we come together as the church to commemorate St John the Apostle. But, who was John the Apostle?
Who is this disciple whom Jesus loved so very much? Is he a secretive person that does not want to identify himself to us? Our dear Lord Jesus chose him, he was a fisherman, and was called the son of Zebedee, the brother to James. He also wrote the gospel of John and the Epistles of I, II, and III, John and Revelation.
The famously known portrait which was painted by Leonardo DaVinci which shows the disciples sitting next to Jesus, and the one closest to Jesus in this portrait is John as he is shown to be leaning on the shoulder of Jesus which is symbolic of his love for Jesus. This comes from the Bible “Now there was leaning on Jesus bosom one of his disciples whom Jesus loved. (John 13:23) Then verse 25, says, “He then lying on Jesus’ breast said unto him, Lord, is it I?” John never mentions his name in the gospel but we believe this to be him.
Again, at the crucifixion of Jesus, John is there next to the Blessed Mother Mary. identified as ‘the disciple whom Jesus loved. (JN 19:26) At the resurrection, he is identified as the disciple whom Jesus loved. (20:2) Then next, on the fishing trip with the other disciples, he is mentioned as ‘the other disciple.” (21:7,20,24) Why, is his name never mentioned? He was giving honour to our Lord Jesus only, John knew this wasn’t about himself!
So Who is this John, the Disciple? They called him “The Son of Thunder”. The Big Fisherman! The man with a Big heart, a loving heart for people. Whatever he did, John always did it wholeheartedly! He was not one to ask questions like the other disciples would do. He never critized. He was always straight forward and precisely to the point! They described him as being a deep thinker, he was the silent disciple. He was determined to always do what was the correct thing. Most of all, John was the spokesperson like Peter also became later in his ministry. He was in his wholehearted believing, the greatest friend to the Lord Jesus.
John had an intense deep love for Jesus. HE LOVED JESUS SO VERY MUCH! And he loved his brothers just as much in the Kingdom of God. They described John as being courageous and bold in his love for Jesus. In a quiet way, he served his Master with all his body and soul. The love of Jesus was totally within his heart and this deep love is what energized him each and every single day. John was intense, he was sincere, he was unselfish as he wrote his gospel and his epistles, and also revelation.
An eagle would be the best way in which to describe John. He was Soaring high, but with eyes looking out for the young who needed to learn to fly and who also needed to be fed. He spoke the truth and in love for the followers of Jesus. When he was with Jesus for 3 years, He was easily teachable and was very much impressed by the love Jesus showed to him and he couldn’t wait to tell the whole world about the Love of Jesus. He may have been the silent disciple but he will never forget those last days of Jesus’s life upon on the earth, because his experience of this made him one of the strongest of all of Jesus’s disciples.
Jesus looked to John to care for Mary, his Mother. But Peter was about to fail Jesus, but Jesus needed John to look after Peter as well. He did not say to John ‘feed my sheep’ because John would do it automatically anyway. Whilst the other disciples scattered at the cross, not John! It was John who had the visions of Jesus, who told us in writing and it is John who is still standing in the end!
CONCLUSION: A friend told the story of his son when he was down in the basement and was carrying his books up the stairs. His son wanted to also help him, so the son walked in front with some books as well. And of course, half way up the boy tripped and fell backwards and safely into his dad’s arms. So now they both went up the stairs together and were so relieved that nothing serious happened! Jesus walked behind John and numerous times rescued him. To become known as “The Disciple Whom Jesus Loved” leaning on the bosom of Jesus. Amen.
Today, the day after we have celebrated the joyous birth of Our Lord and Saviour, and after all the enjoyment of festive food and the giving of gifts which we traditionally do at Christmas, and with this being the first time many of us have been able to have any joyous type of occasion this year amid all the covid19 pandemic situation, we now come in total contrast to that of the celebrations of Christmas day, to the Feast of St. Stephen who was the first Martyr to die for his faith in Our Lord.
Throughout the Old Testament we see time and time again, of the faithful being persecuted and often even killed by those without faith. But it’s not just an Old Testament phenomenon. This is what humans can do in their natural and unredeemed state. We as humans don’t like our sins to be pointed out to us. We manage to make ourselves believe that we’re really not all that bad. We work hard to justify our sins and failings. We find the really, really sinful people in history—men such as Nero or Stalin—and we tend to compare ourselves to them and actually start to feel pretty good about where we stand before God because we don’t believe our sins are as bad as those of such people. And that’s when one of God’s faithful workers comes along—someone who, while by no means perfect, is living a life renewed by grace and who is indwelt by the Holy Spirit—and suddenly all the illusions we’ve built up about our own goodness are shattered and we get angry. Like Cain, instead of acknowledging our sins and instead of repenting, we torment, persecute, and sometimes even kill God’s people when they show us up.
Jesus weeps over Jews, knowing that they will continue to kill those whom he sends as his messengers. They won’t stop at only Jesus’s messengers, but they will indeed kill our Lord and Saviour himself soon also They won’t heed the warnings. But brothers and sisters, Jesus warns us—the faithful—too. To his disciples he says:
Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you dear brothers and sisters when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on the Lord’s account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
Jesus prepares us for the fact that as we joyfully follow him, and joyfully do the work of his kingdom, and as we witness the great Christmas joy we’ve found in the manger and at the cross—as we live a life of joy before our King—we will face persecution from the world. To submit ourselves to that seems nonsensical. How can we find joy in persecution? We find it there, because when we make Christ our Lord, he gives us that eternal perspective we’ve been hearing about all throughout Advent. Suddenly the things of this world are so much less important. Our focus is on Jesus and on building his kingdom. Our focus is on being witnesses of his new life and taking his Good News to the world. And that change in perspective means that if we can effectively communicate the Gospel to others whilst being tormented or with the risk of even being killed, well then, so be it. Our joy in living in and sharing Christ is greater than our joy in the things of this world—even in life itself, because we know that our share in eternal life is so much greater than anything this world could ever possibly give. But it’s not just about joy. It’s about love too. That’s another theme that is carried throughout the season of Advent. We saw Love Incarnate in the manger yesterday. And now because God has so changed our perspective by loving us, we start loving as he did— if we are indeed true children of God and his faithful servants, we simply can’t help it! And it’s not just that we love God’s Church or that we love our brothers and sisters in Christ, but that we even love our enemies and do good to those who persecute us. That’s the hardest command of all for us to obey, but the reason it’s so hard is because we haven’t been perfect in love ourselves. The closer we grow to Christ, the better able we’ll be to live it. But it’s also true that the better we live it, the closer we will be to Christ! It is a never ending circle.
However, we fully know that Living that way is hard. We so often get bogged down in matters of this world. We focus more on life here than we do on life in the Kingdom of Heaven. . We fall back into living in fear instead of living in faith. The witness of St. Stephen should focus our eyes on our Lord and Saviour and on living the life he has given us. No one knows for sure why this feast falls on the day after Christmas, but one thing I’ve realised is that it’s easy to be excited about grace and to live as Christmas people on Christmas Day. But dear brothers and sisters, as humans we’re incredibly fickle, and the next day many forget about being Christmas people and go back to living in fear and in faithlessness. We forget our witness. How often do you come to worship God on a Sunday morning, getting excited about grace, and yet even as you drive home someone on the road does something that makes you angry and you forget all about grace; or you get bad service while you’re out having lunch, and you forget all about grace; or you get a bad news the next morning about your job, and you forget all about grace. The Church reminds us today that being Christmas people requires real commitment on our part and that as much as it’s joyful work, it’s extremely hard work and work that requires truth and devout faith in the promises of God.
The story of Stephen actually begins in Acts Chapter 6. He was among the group of seven men appointed the first deacons by the apostles. They were the servant-ministers of the Church in Jerusalem. Stephen was excited about his work. Acts 6:8 tells us:
Stephen, full of grace and power, was doing great wonders and signs among the people.
He was doing what he was supposed to do as a Christmas person and he attracted attention. The problem was that he attracted the attention of Jews who didn’t like what he was doing. Now, I say “the problem”. That just shows how our perspective isn’t fully where it should be. We see it as a “problem” when we face persecution. We forget that God is sovereign and that he’s working everything out for the good of his people and the spread of his kingdom. Persecution is hard and painful, but it’s still “good”. Remember, Jesus tells us that we find blessing in it. So it was a “problem” that the Jews were upset by what Stephen was doing, but it wasn’t really a problem. God was still in control. We need to keep that in mind in our own lives: Christians don’t have “problems”, we have “opportunities” to exercise our faith.
And Stephen knew that, even as these angry men dragged him before the Sanhedrin and produced all sorts of false witnesses who attested that he was as a blasphemer. He was on trial and it wasn’t going in his favour. And yet even as these men told lies about him, St. Luke tells us that Stephen sat there with the face of an angel—he was peaceful even in the face of condemnation. The one other place in Scripture we hear a description like this is of the face of Moses after he had been with God. Stephen was close to his Saviour and was experiencing the “peace of the Lord”.
In fact, when the high priest gave Stephen a chance to defend himself, what did Stephen do? He didn’t try to explain away the things he had said and done that he got him into trouble in the first place. No. He took the opportunity to preach the Gospel to the whole Sanhedrin! He addressed them and started with Abraham and told the story of redemption down through Joseph and Moses. He told them the stories of their fathers who were rescued from slavery in Egypt and then again how God cared for them in the wilderness and drove out their enemies in Canaan to give them a home—and he stressed how all these things were made possible by God and were his gifts. And as he told the story, he noted how over and over the people rejected God—gladly claiming the great things he gave them, but never truly receiving God himself. And with that Stephen brings them right down to Jesus and he says:
You stiff-necked people, uncircumcised in heart and ears, you always resist the Holy Spirit. As your fathers did, so do you. Which of the prophets did your fathers not persecute? And they killed those who announced beforehand the coming of the Righteous One, whom you have now betrayed and murdered, you who received the law as delivered by angels and did not keep it. (Acts 7:51-53)
He doesn’t pull any punches. He tells them that in rejecting Christ, they’re doing the same things that their fathers had done before them in rejecting the grace of God and in being disobedient. We don’t have time this morning to read Stephen’s full sermon, but I urge you to read through it—Acts 7—sometime this next week. This was a man who was full of passion for his Lord. He was full of passion to share the Good News, even when he was in the lion’s den. What strikes me is how what Stephen does here runs counter to so much of what the Church today tells us to do in terms of evangelism.
We’re told today not to be confrontational; we’re told not to talk too much about sin—or not to talk about it all—because that might turn people off; we’re told to focus on the positive; we’re told to witness the Gospel with our lives and that we might get into trouble sharing it with our mouths. Look at what Stephen does! Not only does he live the Gospel, but he speaks it out loud and clear! He confronts these men right for being the religious hypocrites they are. Stephen didn’t just sit there, quietly and say to himself: “I’m not going to bother with these guys. I’d just be casting my pearls before swine.” No, he shared the Good News with them and he did it peacefully and joyfully. And he did it because he was living in the grace and love of Christmas. He knew that these men might never come to know the Saviour but for his witness, but he also knew that if they were truly reprobate, their rejection of his Gospel sermon would simply confirm to them and to the world their rejection of the Saviour, and God would have greater glory in their condemnation. God’s Word never returns void. Stephen knew that.
St. Luke continues the story and tells us their response:
Now when they heard these things they were enraged, and they ground their teeth at him. But he, full of the Holy Spirit, gazed into heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. And he said, “Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.” But they cried out with a loud voice and stopped their ears and rushed together at him. Then they cast him out of the city and stoned him. And the witnesses laid down their garments at the feet of a young man named Saul. And as they were stoning Stephen, he called out, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.” And falling to his knees he cried out with a loud voice, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” And when he had said this, he fell asleep. (Acts 7:54-60)
We might read that story and think, “Wow. Stephen certainly had a bad day!” Our eyes are blind to God at his work. Stephen took a faithful stand for his Lord, and even as they got ready to drag him out to be stoned, God granted him a vision of his own glory and of Jesus enthroned beside him. Stephen’s “bad day” was a good day for the Church, because on that day God set Stephen before the rest of us as a witness—a lesson as to what it means to be Christmas people—people of his grace and his love and his power. He showed himself to Stephen so that Stephen could show himself and his faith in Christ to the rest of us.
But Stephen’s story does more than just encourage us to share the Good News and to stand firm in our faith. He reminds us what it means to witness the Gospel in our deeds. Stephen had that vision of the Lord Jesus before his eyes, and so even as these evil men started hurling stones at him, he responded with Christlike love. When Jesus was hanging on the cross, do you remember what he prayed? He said, “Father, forgive them, for they know now what they do.” To the last Jesus was concerned with the souls and with the eternal state of the people around him—even his enemies. He was an evangelist to the end, even when there were no more words to say to his persecutors and murderers, he was praying for them. And Stephen, with his eyes on Jesus, does the same. There was nothing left to say to these men and there was nothing left for him to do, and so he prayed for them: “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.”
Luke tells us that St. Paul was there that day. He was holding coats so that people could do a better job throwing rocks at Stephen. Of course, this is when he was known as Saul—before he met Jesus on the Damascus Road and had his life changed forever. The next verse, 8:1, tells us that Paul approved of Stephen’s execution. What we don’t know is what impact Stephen’s loving and gracious response had on Paul’s future conversion. But Luke certainly included this detail for a reason.
Brothers and sisters, Stephen reminds us that we need to be living as Christmas people, not just on Christmas, but each and every day. But he also shows us very dramatically what it means to live in the life and grace of Christmas—especially in light of St. Luke’s note that Paul was there that day. We never know who is witnessing us and how those around us may, or may not, be impacted for the Gospel by what we say and what we do and by how we deal with the circumstances of life. Who would have thought on that day that Saul of Tarsus—Hebrew of Hebrews and member of the Sanhedrin, the man who hunted down Christians and brought them to trial before the Jewish authorities—who would have thought that Stephen’s witness of love and grace that day might change the whole course of Church history as Saul later became Paul, the apostle to the gentiles.
And lastly, Stephen teaches us something about the extreme nature of grace and love and forgiveness. These men were more than just run-of-the-mill enemies. These weren’t just men who didn’t like him or were just angry with him. These were men who saw him as a threat to their existence and wanted to kill him—who did kill him. Stephen didn’t reciprocate their anger. No, he saw them as Jesus saw them: sinful men whom he loved and who would face eternal damnation without the Gospel of love and grace. Stephen knew the love that overcomes a multitude of sins and he knew it because he had experienced it himself through Jesus Christ. St. John reminds us that anyone who claims to love God, but hates his brother is a liar—that you can’t have experienced the redeeming love of God and still hold grudges and hate in your heart against those who have wronged you. Friends, to hold a grudge, to resent the sins of others, to fail to show a forgiving spirit, is to be self-righteous—it’s to ignore what God had done for you! Stephen could look on these angry men with love, precisely because he had himself experienced the love of Christ and God’s forgiveness—and he knew that there was nothing these men could do to him that was as bad as even his own smallest offences against God. God had forgiven him so much—and he realise that so well—that it was a “small” thing for him to forgive these men and to show them love. Lest we think that Jesus and John are just speaking in hyperbole when they tell us to love our enemies, St. Stephen shows us how the love of Christ really does work out in our lives—or at least how it should, if we truly claim to love God and to have experienced his grace and forgiveness.
So remember today: We are a Christmas people, living in the grace and love of God. But remember too that God calls us to be Christmas people every day of our lives and not just in the Christmas season.. The joy of Christmas is something that should permeate every aspect of our lives that we might be witnesses, even to our enemies and even to those who would kill us, of the love and grace that God has shown us through his Son. And so we pray, “Grant, O Lord, that in all our sufferings for the testimony of your truth we may look up steadfastly to heaven and see by faith the glory that is to be revealed and, filled with the Holy Spirit, may learn to love and pray for our persecutors as St. Stephen your first martyr
prayed for his murderers to you, blessed Jesus, where you stand at the right hand of God to help all who suffer for you, our only mediator and advocate.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came to be through him, and without him nothing came to be. What came to be through him was life, and this life was the light of the human race; the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world came to be through him, but the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, but his own people did not accept him.
But to those who did accept him he gave power to become children of God, to those who believe in his name, who were born not by natural generation nor by human choice nor by a man’s decision but of God. And the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us, and we saw his glory, the glory as of the Father’s only Son, full of grace and truth.
We gather here in the middle of the night, surrounded by darkness, to celebrate the Light of the World. It is a beautiful tradition. But as we sit here, let’s start with a bit of honesty—something we Dominicans call Veritas.
If we were to look at the historical records, the meteorological charts of ancient Judea, or the shepherding schedules of the first century, we would likely find that Jesus was not born on a cold night in late December. Shepherds don’t keep flocks in open fields in the dead of winter. It’s likely He was born in the spring or perhaps the autumn during the Feast of Tabernacles.
So, why are we here on December 25th?
We are here because in the 4th Century, Pope Julius I decided. He looked at a world that was celebrating the return of the sun—the pagan winter solstice—and he said, “No. We do not worship the sun; we worship the Son of God.” He planted the flag of Christ right in the middle of the darkest time of the year to say: The Light has conquered the darkness.
But here is the important part: The date is liturgical. The event is reality.
It does not detract from the truth one bit. Whether it happened in April, October, or December, the fact remains: The Infinite God became a finite infant. The Creator entered His creation. The Word became Flesh.
However, we must be careful not to get stuck in the sentimentality of the scene. We look at the Nativity set, the peaceful animals, the glowing baby, the silent night—and it feels cozy. It feels safe.
But if we look closer, we realize that His birth means absolutely nothing without the Cross.
Archbishop Fulton Sheen once said that every other person who ever came into this world came into it to live. Jesus Christ is the only person who came into this world to die. His death was the goal of His life.
From the very first moment He drew breath in Bethlehem, He was marching toward Calvary.
He was placed in a manger, a feeding trough for animals, signifying that He would become Bread for the world—the Eucharist.
He was wrapped in swaddling clothes, bands of cloth that looked suspiciously like the burial shrouds that would wrap Him in the tomb.
And most importantly, He was laid on wood.
The wood of the manger prefigures the wood of the Cross. You cannot have Bethlehem without Golgotha. You cannot have the Crib without the Crucifix. If He had just been born a great teacher, a great philosopher, or a nice man, we wouldn’t be here tonight. We are here because that Baby is the Victim who would pay the price for my sins and for yours.
So, with that heavy reality in mind, what does Jesus want us to take away from this night?
He doesn’t want a birthday cake. He doesn’t want us to just feel warm and fuzzy for an hour and then go back to our lives.
He wants us to realize why He came.
He saw us in our mess. He saw us in our addiction to sin. He saw us lost in the darkness of our own making. And He didn’t send a representative; He came Himself. He “got a guy”—and that guy was Himself.
What He wants from us tonight is surrender. He wants us to look at the manger and see the Cross, and say, “Lord, if You went to these lengths—from the glory of heaven to a dirty stable, all the way to a Roman cross—just to save me… then the least I can do is give You my life.”
He wants us to leave this church different than we walked in. He wants us to carry the Light out those doors. The world is still dark, just like it was under Caesar Augustus. It needs Light. It needs Truth. It needs you to be the carrier of that Light.
Tonight, let us not just admire the Baby. Let us adore the Savior. Let us embrace the Cross that allowed us to be here.
A Blessed Christmas to you all.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Y’all…. Christmas is upon us! In a little under a week the big day arrives! Presents will be opened, special meals will be eaten, and holiday joy will abound…..Or that’s the picture that many folks paint…or wish they had….or work toward. Often the “reason for the season” gets lost in all the holiday hoopla. Now, granted, in the festive decorations for Christmas, there is quite often found a creche or nativity scene. The one we’re using this year is white unglazed porcelain, and we got it our first year together for next to nothing at Fruth Pharmacy. Interestingly enough, I found the same, now “vintage” set online for certainly WAY more than “next to nothing.” Who knew? I sure didn’t! But one thing I do know, that first Christmas was FAR removed from the pretty white unglazed porcelain one that we have.
By this time way back when, when Mary, Joseph, and the donkey were making their 90 mile or so trek to Bethlehem. For us, 90 miles is nothing. Back then? Not so much. They hadda walk…Mary was WAY pregnant, and the world of Mary and Joseph was a difficult and dangerous place, one whose harsh conditions were not fully chronicled in the Gospel accounts of their travails. Writers of the gospels of Matthew and Luke “are so laconic about this because they assume the readers of the time would know what it was like,” said James F. Strange, a New Testament and biblical archeology professor at the University of South Florida in Tampa. Today, he added, “we have no idea how difficult it was.”
But what about after their trek was done and they actually got to Bethlehem? Was there really “no room in the inn”, or were things, perhaps, a tad different? Since Joseph had to go to his “hometown” so to speak, they were probably expecting to stay with family. Luke never mentions an inn. He says that there was “no guest room.” We only assume he means the inn is full, but that’s not what Luke wrote. In the Greek he uses the word kataluma, which refers to a room attached to a family home for honored guests or travelers. Luke uses the same Greek word in chapter 22 when Jesus asks for an “upper room” to celebrate the Passover.
There is a word for an inn: pandocheion. Luke uses that word in the story of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10. If Luke had meant there was no room in the inn, he would have used that word. He’s saying that when Joseph and Mary arrived, none of the family had an open guest room in their house. Maybe no one in Joseph’s family even had a guest room. Maybe they were all lodging other travelers, or family elders (who would have had more claim to a guest room than a young couple).
The typical small town family home in Judea didn’t have barns, but the house had a bottom floor room for the animals, with a short set of steps leading up to the main room where the family lived. This way animals could be led into the house at night, where they were safe, and their body heat helped to keep the house warm. Feeding troughs, or mangers, were stone basins either standing next to or built into a connecting wall, where food scraps could be swept into them. If Mary and Joseph were staying with family, but the family had no space in the guest room for them, the next most logical place would be the area where the animals were kept. Warm, close, safe, and kinda, maybe, sorta convenient.
Ha! When we were kids and left the door open or did something other than what we should have known not to do, momma was wont to say, “You weren’t born in a barn!” Can you imagine Mary, a tad exasperated with young Jesus, saying…..”You weren’t born in a….oh, never mind. Just close the door.”
But anyway, whilst they were there in Bethlehem, the time came for “Mary to be delivered.” The verbiage indicates that sometime after they arrived Mary went into labor. Luke doesn’t give a timeframe, but neither does he imply it was an emergency. They probably had time to get settled. And, there’s no reason to believe Joseph helped deliver the baby. Chances are slim that Joseph was even present during the birth; no self-respecting Jewish family would allow any man to be around, or let a young woman have her first child without the aid of other women. It would have made Joseph “unclean”, and he would have been ushered out, and then ushered back in to name the baby after both Mary and Jesus were cleaned up. Birth is kinda messy, ya know.
So whilst we make our final preparations for Christmas, let’s do our best to remember that Mary and Joseph and Jesus were real, live, human beings with real, live, often dangerous, inconvenient, and troublesome problems. They didn’t have it easy. What truly matters to us, our should matter to us, is how they overcame those problems. How they submitted those problems, and their lives, to living as God expected them to. They are, and will remain, examples for all of us to follow. Amen and a Blessed Christmas to you all.
Image credit: Born In A Barn | School Nativity | Out of the Ark Music
We light the rose candle today—Gaudete Sunday—because the Lord is near, and our deep, abiding joy is rooted not in fleeting happiness, but in the certainty of our hope. Yet, the Gospel reminds us that even the greatest prophet, John the Baptist, the powerful voice crying in the wilderness, struggled. He was confined, suffering, and sends his disciples to ask Christ the fundamental, agonizing question of truth: “Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?” This question, asked from the prison of his doubt, teaches us that faith engages intellectual struggle; the Dominican quest for Veritas begins with the honesty of a difficult question. If the one who prepared the way can doubt, how much more must we, the faithful, admit to our own moments of uncertainty?
Christ’s reply, however, is the very substance and meat of the Gospel. He does not offer a simple declaration, but points to the evidence of God’s tangible action, fulfilling the prophecy of Isaiah: “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind regain their sight, the lame walk… and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them.” The joy of Advent is found in recognizing that the desert of prophecy is blossoming into the garden of the Church. Christ is telling John and telling us: Look at the facts. Look at the transformed lives. This evidence—this testimony of grace—is our anchor. It proves that the Truth is not an abstract concept but a living Person, manifested in acts of mercy and the saving power of the preached Word. The certainty of this Truth then empowers us.
This assurance demands the virtue of patience, as Saint James urges in the second reading: “Be patient, therefore, brothers, until the coming of the Lord. See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth.” As the Order of Preachers, we understand this patience is tied to our vocation: we preach the Word and trust in God’s timetable for the spiritual harvest. The true Gaudete joy is not found when our trial is over, but in the certainty that Christ’s Word is infallible, and our temporary suffering prepares us for His eternal glory. This promise brings profound peace and transforms our anxious waiting into active, productive hope.
So, how does this apply to your life right now? You, too, are a traveler, a pilgrim on a road marked by both joy and inevitable doubt. Perhaps you feel like John the Baptist, waiting in a personal “prison” of anxiety, illness, or unresolved problems. The Gospel tells you that your response to doubt is not to abandon faith, but to look for the signs of Christ’s presence right where you are. Has Christ helped you forgive a great wrong, offered you unexpected comfort, or inspired you to perform a costly kindness? These are the real-life miracles—the deaf hearing, the blind seeing—happening in your everyday life. Your life, like that of Mary and Joseph who were travelers on a road of uncertain promise, is a testament to the fact that God meets us precisely in our doubt. Let the rose color remind us that Christ has already come, is here now in the Word and Sacrament, and is certainly coming again. Go forth and live this joyful Truth by being a sign of Christ’s presence to every weary traveler you meet!
We find ourselves two weeks into Advent, a season the Church calls holy preparation. But for many of us, preparation is simply the relentless, daily state of being a hard-working American. Our life is a constant tension: preparing for the next bill, preparing for a medical expense that could shatter the budget, and preparing our children for a world that feels more uncertain every day. This stress, this endless worry, this anxiety, this is the real-life wilderness in which we struggle to find God.
As Dominicans, we are called to bring the penetrating light of Truth (Veritas) into this darkness. Our task today is to see how the Scripture speaks directly to our reality, offering us a foundation that cannot be shaken by the economy or by fear.
The prophet Isaiah speaks to a people whose security has been utterly cut down, reduced to nothing more than a lifeless stump of Jesse. They had no reliable foundation left. Does that not perfectly capture our fear when we see our wages stagnate while every cost of living—housing, groceries, childcare—climbs higher and higher? Our human foundation, that comfortable feeling of being “securely middle-class,” often feels just as dead as that stump.
But Isaiah gives us the ultimate object of our contemplation: true security lies not in the next budget plan or a stable interest rate, but in the shoot that springs from that stump. This Messiah is endowed with the Spirit of Counsel and Might—the perfect Wisdom of God. This calls us to re-evaluate what we are building our lives on. When financial anxieties create friction at home, or when the pressure of work threatens to steal our family time, we must contemplate this liberating Truth: Our ultimate well-being is not secured by a perfect 401k, but by a perfect God who promises a reign of ultimate peace and justice. Our hope is in the Christ who stands above the wilderness we currently inhabit.
And how do we enter into this reign? By heeding the uncompromising Voice in the Wilderness—John the Baptist, whose message is the exact antidote to our ceaseless anxiety: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!”
For the hard-working person, repentance is not just about avoiding some far-off, “big” sin. It is about clearing out the spiritual and emotional debt that burdens our soul as much as any credit card. John demands “fruit worthy of repentance.” What is this fruit for us? It is making a profound turn-around from the consumerist lie that tells us we need more—a bigger, newer, better version of everything—and that our worth is measured by our income. This lie is what drains our peace and drives our exhaustion. The fruit of repentance is stopping the endless, anxious striving and instead, giving our dedicated time and full attention to our family, our children—the true assets God has given us—instead of giving our exhaustion and worry to them after a long day. This is the real, gritty work of making straight the path: clearing the internal clutter that prevents Christ from reigning at the very center of our lives.
Yet, this transformation is not done in isolation. St. Paul reminds us in Romans that our strength and endurance is found in the encouragement of the Scriptures and in our community. The anxiety of our middle-class life is often suffered in secret. We are conditioned to hide our struggles and maintain the appearance of success. But the Dominican call to live the Truth in community means we cannot afford isolation.
Paul prays that we may “accord in welcoming one another, as Christ welcomed you, for the glory of God.” Our unity must be practical. We welcome one another by sharing the truth of our struggle, by refusing to judge the neighbor whose finances are strained, and by recognizing that every person in this parish is carrying a weight. Our community, therefore, must be a place of refuge, where the burden is eased by spiritual solidarity, and where we use the Truth of Christ’s welcome to break down the walls of status and striving that silently divide us.
My brothers and sisters, we are called to be the voice and the hands of Christ in this demanding age. Let the Root of Jesse be your foundation, offering the only security that will never be devalued by inflation. Let the Voice of John drive you to repentance that brings rest to your soul, not just rules to your conscience. And let the call of Paul inspire a unity in this parish that reminds the anxious world of what it means to be truly rich—rich in hope, rich in truth, and rich in one another.
Our trees are up, our halls are decked, and the house is relatively clean. I mean, maybe we’re not quite ready for Charles and Camilla to visit, but I’d not be embarrassed if, say, William and Catherine popped in. For all practical purposes, we are ready for Christmas.
What about y’all? Shopping done? Decorating finished? Parties planned? What does “being ready for Christmas” really mean?
Today is the First Sunday in Advent. I’m about certain that every one of us has seen an “Advent Calendar.” Those cute little things that count down until Christmas. Whilst they can be fun and exciting, they really have nothing to do with “Advent” though. Not really even close. So, one might ask, “What is Advent?” And, as is my custom, I’m gonna tell ya.
Since the 900s, Advent has marked the beginning of the church year, and is a season of great anticipation, preparation, and excitement, traditionally focusing on the Nativity of the Christ Child, when Jesus came as our Savior. During Advent, we as Christians also direct our thoughts to His second coming as judge.
The word Advent is from the Latin adventus, meaning coming,” and is celebrated during the four weeks of preparation for Christmas. Advent always contains four Sundays, beginning on the Sunday nearest the feast of St. Andrew the Apostle, (November 30) and continuing until December 24. It blends together a penitential spirit, very similar to Lent, a liturgical theme of preparation for the Second and Final Coming of the Lord, called the Parousia, and a joyful theme of getting ready for the Bethlehem event.
Advent is a time of preparation that is marked by prayer. Advent’s prayers are prayers of humble devotion and commitment, prayers of submission, prayers for deliverance, prayers from those walking in darkness who are awaiting and anticipating a great light (Isaiah 9).
So whilst we are preparing our homes for Christmas, should we not also be preparing our hearts and minds? We all of us know that Christmas is on 25 December, and that’s when we celebrate Jesus’s birth. What we don’t know, however, is when Jesus is coming back.
In the Gospel appointed for today, Jesus says to his disciples: “As it was in the days of Noah, so it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. In those days before the flood, they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, up to the day that Noah entered the ark. They did not know until the flood came and carried them all away. So will it be also at the coming of the Son of Man. Two men will be out in the field; one will be taken, and one will be left. Two women will be grinding at the mill; one will be taken, and one will be left. Therefore, stay awake! For you do not know on which day your Lord will come. Be sure of this: if the master of the house had known the hour of night when the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and not let his house be broken into. So too, you also must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come.”
As we go about “getting ready” for Christmas, let us not forget what, and more importantly, WHO, we are really ‘getting ready” for. I invite each of you to have a most blessed, holy, and prayerful Advent. Amen.
My dearest Brothers and sisters in Christ, may you be blessed on this, the Solemnity of Jesus Christ, King of the Universe! This is the last Sunday of the Church year. This is the time when we focus ourselves on the final and glorious things which are to come! It also means that next Sunday, we celebrate the First Sunday of the Advent Liturgical season.
When we are stating that Jesus is the king, we are meaning several things by this. Firstly, Jesus is our Shepherd. As our Shepherd He desires to lead us personally as a loving father would with his children. He wants to enter into our lives personally, intimately and carefully. He never wants to impose Himself upon us, rather, He is constantly offering Himself to us as our guide. The difficulty with this is that it’s very easy for us to reject this kind of kingship. As King, Jesus desires to lead every aspect of our lives and lead us in all things. He desires to become the absolute ruler and monarch within our lives and also of our very hearts and souls. He wants us to come to Him for everything and to become dependent upon Him always. But He will not impose this sort of kingship upon us. Our Lord Jesus wants us accept him freely and without reservation. Jesus will only govern our lives if we are freely willing to surrender ourselves over completely to him.. When we allow this to happen, His Kingdom begins to become established firmly within us! And also through us in this worldly realm.
Jesus wishes for His Kingdom to be established in our world. First and foremost this takes place when we become His sheep and thus become His instruments to help convert the world. However, as King, He also calls us to establish His Kingdom by seeing to it that His truth and law is respected within all of our society. It’s Christ’s authority as King that gives us the authority and duty as Christians to do all we can to fight worldly injustices and to bring about a respect and a love for every human person. All shall ultimately gain its authority from Christ alone since He is the one and only Universal King.
But many still within our world do not recognize Him as the King, so what should we do about these people? Should we “impose” God’s law upon those who do not believe? The answer is both yes and no. First, there are some things we cannot impose. For example, we cannot force people to go to Mass each Sunday. This would hinder a person’s freedom to enter into this precious gift willingly. We know Jesus requires it of us for the good of our souls, but it must still be embraced freely. However, there are some things that we must “impose” upon others. The protection of the, poor and vulnerable must be “imposed.” The freedom of conscience must be written into our laws. The freedom to practice our faith openly (religious liberty) within any institution must be “imposed” also. And there are many other things which could be listed here. What’s vital to point out is that, at the end of all time, Jesus will be returning to Earth in all His glory and He will then establish His permanent and unending Kingdom. At that time, all peoples will see God as He is. And His law will become one with our worldly law. Every knee will bend before our great King and all will know His truth. At that time, true justice will reign and every evil will be corrected. What a glorious day that will be!
We should reflect, today, upon our own embrace of Christ as our King. Does He truly govern our lives in every way? Do we allow Him to have complete control over our lives? When this is done freely and completely, the Kingdom of God is established in our lives. Let Him reign so that we can be converted and, through us, others can come to know Him as Lord of all also!
Lord, You are the sovereign King of the Universe. You are Lord of all. Come reign in our lives and make our souls Your holy dwelling place. Lord, come transform our world and make it a place of true peace and justice. May Your Kingdom come! Jesus, we trust in You.
My dear brothers and sisters in Christ, especially here at St Michael’s, we witness one of the most powerful and, yes, perhaps most jarring moments of the Gospel: Jesus, armed with a whip of cords, overturning the tables in the Temple. This is not the gentle Jesus we often picture. This is Jesus consumed by a holy and righteous zeal, fulfilling the words of the psalm: “Zeal for your house will consume me” (Jn 2:17).
What is Jesus Angry At? The Cleansing of Priorities
When we hear this passage, we often focus on the physical act of “cleansing the Temple.” But let’s look closer at why this had to happen. The merchants and moneychangers were performing necessary services; they provided animals for sacrifice and changed currency for pilgrims. The problem wasn’t the service itself; the problem was corruption and the priority. They had allowed the noise of commerce and the pursuit of profit to drown out the voice of God. They had turned the sacred place—the only place where Gentiles could come to pray—into an obstacle course for those seeking God. They made their own gain more important than true worship.
My friends, this is the challenge for our society today. We live in a world saturated by noise and the relentless pursuit of material gain. We are tempted daily to turn the holy spaces of our lives into a “marketplace.” Whether it’s letting social media, financial anxiety, or political ideology consume the quiet space meant for prayer, or allowing selfish ambitions to crowd out the call to charity, we risk turning our hearts—which are the true sanctuary—into something less than the Father’s House of Prayer.
The True Temple: Jesus Christ and You
The most important part of this entire encounter comes when Jesus speaks of the ultimate destruction and rebuilding: “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” The people, naturally, thought He meant the stone and mortar of Herod’s magnificent Temple. But the Gospel tells us He was speaking of the temple of His body.
This is the great, foundational truth of our faith: Jesus Christ is the new, eternal, and perfect place of encounter between God and humanity. The Old Temple’s purpose was to point to Him. With His Death and Resurrection, the veil was torn, and the way to the Father was opened. He is the path!
But the story doesn’t end there. St. Paul reminds us: “Your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit” (1 Cor 6:19). Because we are baptized into Christ’s Body, we, too, are now living stones of a spiritual temple. This is why we, as a Catholic community, must protect the sacred spaces of our lives—our parish, our homes, and our consciences—from becoming markets for the world’s passing fancies.
🔑 Our Response: Finding the Path to Heaven
So, how do we respond to this Gospel message to help us find the path to Heaven?
Embrace the Cleansing: We must, in a sense, invite Jesus into our own hearts with that whip of cords. What noise, what distraction, what idol, what form of greed or pride has taken up residence in the sanctuary of your soul? The path to Heaven requires courageous self-examination and a sincere reception of the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Let the refining fire of the Holy Spirit drive out everything that is unholy, just as Jesus drove out the corruption.
Prioritize the True Worship: We must make Jesus Christ the absolute priority of our lives. This means coming to the Eucharist not out of mere habit or social duty, but with the fervent desire to be united with the risen Lord, the True Temple. It means making time for daily prayer, where we can listen to God’s voice, not the world’s clamor.
Live with Resurrection Hope: Jesus’s final promise—to raise up the Temple in three days—is our hope. The path to Heaven isn’t found in a perfect life, but in a life rooted in faith in the Risen Christ. Even when we fail, even when our personal temple is damaged, we trust in the power of Christ’s resurrection to rebuild us, to restore our dignity, and to lead us home.
Let us ask the Lord for that consuming zeal that drove Him to purify the Temple, so that our lives, both individually and as a parish family, may truly be a house of prayer dedicated entirely to His glory.
The Order of Preachers, Independent 
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