When it comes to clichés, perhaps one of the most archetypal of all is the cliché ‘life is just one damned thing after another.’ A cliché of course is a common expression that has lost all its freshness and meaning through overuse, and this is certainly true of the ‘one damned thing’ saying. Through frequent repetition over the past hundred years, this phrase has become very dull, but what is more, repetition and dullness seem to be the subject of this cliché. The ‘damned things’ that keep happening in life are just the kind of things that atheists will point to in claiming that life is devoid of meaning, that there is no God: life is just one damned thing after another.

Yet the evil and suffering that can so easily diminish our faith in God’s presence in our lives is a subject that the Bible takes seriously. In the first reading, we hear Job complaining about the drudgery of life, of the months of emptiness, and of the days that come to their end without hope. And Job has good reason for feeling this way. At the beginning of the Book of Job, we’re told how Job loses virtually everything he has. First the Sabeans take his oxen and donkeys and kill the servants minding them; then fire falls from heaven killing all his flocks of sheep; then the Chaldeans carry off his camels and kill even more servants; and then all his children are killed by a hurricane. But if that is not enough, he then succumbs to a terrible skin disease. All that Job has left is an unsympathetic wife who tells him to ‘curse God and die,’ and three friends, Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar.

At first Job’s friends are totally lost for words, but after seven days, Job finally breaks the awkward silence as says he will never see good again. At the same time, each of Job’s friends offered a speech in a attempt to help Job understand his terrible misfortune.  Today’s first reading is taken from shortly after the speech of Eliphaz in which Job is told among other things “How happy is the one whom God reproves; therefore, do not despise the discipline of the Almighty.” Understandably, Job is not impressed. If we learn anything from Job’s friends, we learn what not to say to someone who is suffering.

However, there may be a lot of evil and suffering in the world, we should never give into the temptation to say life is just one damn thing after another. It is not true, and of the things we must help us to understand this, most of all, we have the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

In St Mark’s Gospel, it appears that St Mark is referring to a series of events in Jesus’ life, one that occurred after another. A total of twenty-five times, St Mark uses the expression ‘kai euthus’ which means ‘and immediately,’ ‘as soon as’ or ‘at once.’ In today’s Gospel we have two such occurrences of this expression: as soon as they left the synagogue, they entered the house of Simon and Andrew, … and at once they told Jesus about Simon’s mother-in-law. St Mark’s repeated use of the phrase ‘kai euthus’ does not make the Gospel in any way dull; rather, it enhances the sense of urgency. There is a dynamism and direction to St Mark’s Gospel. Jesus is going somewhere, and the place where He’s going is Jerusalem where He will be crucified. The last time St Mark uses the phrase ‘kai euthus’ is when Jesus is handed over to Pilate. Thus, the immediacy in Jesus’ life reaches its climax in His Passion, the sacrifice we commemorate in the Eucharist.

It is through the Church’s repeated celebration of the Eucharist, week in, week out, day in, day out, that shows us that life isn’t just a collection of random events, for every human experience has its ultimate meaning in Jesus Christ. Somehow, through the celebration of the Eucharist, all the hopes and sorrows of humanity are bound up with Our Lord’s death on the cross and his glorious resurrection. If a cliché is a common expression that has lost all its freshness and meaning through constant repetition, it must mean the Eucharist is the opposite of a cliché, for no matter how many times we celebrate the Eucharist, it never loses it freshness, it is always full of meaning, it is always new. Clichés may dull one’s life, but there are no clichés in Christ.

As a child, I discovered something of the qualities of love from a variety of sources. Among these were the stories that were told to us as children, stories that conveyed truths more profound than we could have articulated at such a tender age. Among the stories I recall most vividly was Oscar Wilde’s, ‘The Happy Prince’.

It states that ‘The Happy Prince,’ lived a life sheltered from human suffering. He died in the past, and his nobles constructed a statue of him on a tall column overlooking the city. He was gilded all over; for his eyes he had two bright sapphires, and a large red ruby on the edge of his sword was gilded.

From such a high point, the Happy Prince observed for the first time life as it truly is. Seeing people in distress, he asked his friend, a swallow, to bring the wealth that adorned his statue to those who needed help. To a tailor, thin and overworked, and whose child lay sick in the next room, the swallow took the ruby that adorned the hilt of his sword to the sick child. To a malnourished writer in his loft, the swallow took a sapphire. To a match-girl, who had let her matches fall in the gutter, distressed that her father would soon beat her, the swallow brought the other sapphire.

The sapphires that were given away, the Happy Prince could not see any more. So, the little swallow becomes the eyes of the Happy Prince, telling the prince what he saw. Asked by the Happy Prince, the swallow took the leaves of gold from the statue leaf by leaf to the poor of the city, and we are informed that the children’s faces grew rosier, and they now laugh and play games.

Despite our knowledge of children, such tales provided us with concepts we would only begin to understand as adults. At that age, we understood love in a way that children understand love. But we were given what was needed to help us start on our voyage through life, where experience and maturity would hopefully bring us to a deeper understanding of what love really is.

And this understanding is relevant to how we read the Gospels. Insights gained from childhood can play a part in how we understand the life and ministry of Jesus, alerting us to what we can easily miss. This is the case even if a tale such as ‘The Happy Prince’ might appear to have almost nothing in common with a gospel passage like the one we have this Sunday.

Here Jesus encounters a man possessed by an evil spirit, and in his combat with the evil spirit, Jesus silences it, stopping it from revealing more about who Jesus is. Here we see something in common between the Gospel and the tale. The Happy Prince seeks only to alleviate the sufferings of others, not seeking acclaim or asking anything in return. Likewise, Jesus also seeks only to alleviate the sufferings of an unfortunate man, not looking for anything in return or for acclaim, indeed silencing the evil spirit who might have led to praise and acclamation.

If the purest and deepest love is love that seeks no acclaim or anything in return, then such love is shown here by Jesus. What is revealing about ourselves and how we understand love is that we can see without difficulty the depth and purity of the love shown by the Happy Prince, but fail to recognize the presence of a love that is of the utmost depth and purity in the conflict of Jesus with the evil spirit, liberating a person in distress.

We can sometimes fail to recognize love because is all too easy to limit our understanding of love to what is comforting, mild, gentle and warm. But this is a narrow understanding of love, an understanding of love that has not grown into adulthood.

Faced with the man possessed by an evil spirit, Jesus did what he had to do. Unfortunately, perhaps, that involved entering into conflict. Similarly, if we look at the lives of some of the saints known for their works of charity, we see that they were often people prepared to enter into the fray in defense of the poor and suffering. In this too there was no seeking after acclaim or asking for anything in return.

When we have a narrow understanding of love, we can fall into the trap of thinking of Jesus as loving on some occasions, but tough and forceful, and hence less than truly loving, on other occasions. In the same way, we can overlook the presence of the most profound love in people who do not pander to sentiment, but who care only about what is good and true.

Like all realities of great depth, love is multi-faceted, rich and complex. Like all realities of great depth, coming to understand love requires time and patience. More correctly, coming to understand love is a journey that continues throughout our lives. So let us remember that love of the greatest depth and purity, love that does not seek acclaim or ask anything in return, is a love we may fail to recognize. Indeed, it may be these very qualities that hide it from our sight; but it is such qualities as these that make it really present.

After Daddy’s mesothelioma diagnosis was deemed critically terminal, one of his great comforts was chewing gum.  He went through at least a pack a day.  I’ll never forget this conversation between he and Momma when Daddy was in the hospital:

Daddy:  Did I ask you to bring me some gum?

Momma:  Yes, Honey.

Daddy:  Did you bring me some gum?

Momma:  Yes, Honey.

Daddy:  Then why ain’t I achewin’ it?

And we all laughed, Momma gave Daddy his gum, he began “achewin’ it” and all was as right as it could be under the circumstances.

The Responsorial Psalm appointed for today comes from Psalm 25. Here it is:

R.  Teach me your ways, O Lord.

Your ways, O LORD, make known to me; teach me your paths, Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my savior.

R. Teach me your ways, O Lord.

Remember that your compassion, O LORD, and your love are from of old.  In your kindness remember me, because of your goodness, O LORD.

R. Teach me your ways, O Lord.

Good and upright is the LORD; thus he shows sinners the way.  He guides the  humble to justice  and teaches the humble his way.

R. Teach me your ways, O Lord.

And the Gospel for today comes from Mark 1:   As he (Jesus) passed by the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting their nets into the sea; they were fishermen.  Jesus said to them,  “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.”   Then they abandoned their nets and followed him.  He walked along a little farther and saw James, the son of Zebedee, and his brother John.  They too were in a boat mending their nets.  Then he called them.  So they left their father Zebedee in the boat along with the hired men and followed him.

Now, you ask me, what in the world does Daddy’s gum have to do with those scriptures?  I’m gonna tell ya.  Momma was prepared.  She had done Daddy’s bidding, but just hadn’t quite followed through with it yet.  How many of us are like that when it comes to doing our Lord’s bidding?  Like the Psalmist, we have all of us asked “Teach me your ways, O Lord.”  But have we followed through?

In the Gospel reading for today, we read of Jesus calling Simon, Andrew, James and John to follow him.  And they did.  We have many of us been called to follow Christ.  And we do.  Mostly???  Sort of???  Kind of???  In a round about way???

In the past few weeks, how many of us have said/posted/read/agreed with things that would most definitely not be considered Christ-like?   How many of us have let our personal political beliefs get in the way of acting like the “little Christ” we are called to be?  Sure we can disagree, often vehemently, but under no circumstances can we allow ourselves to allow those differences of opinions to get in the way of our witness for our Lord.  (You gotta remember that even Peter and Paul argued, but they didn’t let that stand in the way of building Christ’s Kingdom.)

Let us not forget that in many cases, we are the only Bibles that many folks will ever read, and we are the only Jesus that some folks will ever see.  It is up to us to see the Jesus in everyone, regardless of political belief, race, creed, color, sexual orientation, whether we cheer for Duke or for Clemson, or anything thing else that can be used to divide us.  We are all of us HIS people, the sheep of HIS pasture, and we have far more in common than we do the things that divide us, if we truly identify as HIS.

As Christians, have we lost our focus of what is truly important?  Regardless of politics, of whether we are ‘blue’ or ‘red’ or ‘rainbow,’ we are to remain focused on the one thing that really matters in this world and the next:  Spreading and sharing the love of and for our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  No matter who sits in the Oval Office, our job, our mission, our focus, has not changed and will not change:  We are called to love and to serve the Lord with gladness and singleness of heart.  We are called to care of each other, regardless of our politics.  We are commanded to ‘bless those who persecute us’ and we are called to ‘pray for our enemies.’  We are called to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, house the homeless. (Matthew 25:31-46). 

I think we all of us are familiar with the song, “Let There Be Peace on Earth.”  And what is the next line?  Yep.  “And let it begin with me.”  Isn’t it time we lived up to that?   What are we doing to bring about change?  To bring about equality?  To bring about that healing this country so desperately needs? 

It is up to each of us to conduct ourselves in a manner fitting our faith.   Look at what you say.  Look at what you post.  If you were accused of being a Christian, would your timeline bear witness to the fact?

In the movie “Sister Act” the nuns sing another song that we’re all familiar with.  “I Will Follow Him.” 

 I must follow him, ever since he touched my hand I knew that near him I always must be And nothing can keep him from me He is my destiny. (Songwriters: Arthur Altman / Franck Pourcel / Jacques Plante / Norman Gimbel / Paul Mauriat)

So, having said all of the above, shouldn’t we, like the nuns, like Peter and James and John and Andrew and Paul actually do what we are called to do?

Follow Him.  In every word that we speak.  Follow Him.  In every post that we make.  Follow Him.  In every action we take.  Follow Him.  Amen.

Today we mark the end of the Christmas season – the Day of Epiphany.  We celebrate this day to reflect on the visit of the Magi – the wise men – to Jesus and the giving of their gifts. We reflect on the meaning of this visit of those wise ones to see Jesus.

Epiphany is about Jesus and his message being available and relevant to people of every age and race. Jesus isn’t just a Jewish prophet with an exciting message, but God made present amongst us and available to all of us to worship and follow. God’s love reaches beyond the everyday barriers of race and class; something the Magi didn’t quite get at first.

So Who Were the Magi?

We don’t know much about the Magi from Scripture. All Saint Matthew tells us is that they were “Magi from the East”. Some translations have “Wise men from the East”. The word in Greek refers to priests of the Zoroastrian religion. They came from Persia, the countries now known as Iran and Iraq, and they saw meaning in the movement of the stars. Their visit fits an Eastern pattern of great births being accompanied by momentous events in the sky. Certainly we know of a comet in 11BCE in Gemini with its head towards Leo, seen by many as a symbol of Judah.  We also know of planetary conjunctions in both 7BCE and 6 BCE which would have added to a sense that momentous happenings were on the way. The Magi would have noticed these things and taken them seriously. But who were they?

One commentator, Brian Stoffregen puts it like this;

“Originally in Persia, Magi were dream- interpreters. By Jesus’ time, the term referred to astronomers, fortune-tellers, or star-gazers.   They were horoscope fanatics – a practice condemned by Jewish standards. We might compare them to people in fortune – telling booths, or people on the “psychic hotline” or other “occupations” that foretell the future by stars, tea leaves, Tarot cards etc. They were magicians, astronomers, star-gazers, pseudo-scientists, fortune tellers..”

Another writer, Nathan Nettleton, puts it like this;

“They were the speakers of the sacred words at the pagan sacrifices. At worst, the term referred to a magician or sorcerer, or even a deceiver. Magi were people whose activities were repeatedly condemned and prohibited throughout the scriptures and were completely anathema to the people of Israel.”

Whilst in English we get the words “magic” and “magician” from Magi, the Zoroastrian religion forbade sorcery. They clearly were looking for a new king and had found meaning in the movement of the planets and stars which led them to come to Israel to greet the new-born king. They journeyed from their homes in Persia to Bethlehem in search of this baby. Instead of angels and visions, we have the image of the Magi following a sign in the skies – in nature – and for a long period of time. The magi see the intentions of God in the skies. This is not new: Psalm 19 tells us that the heavens themselves declare who God is, and that his handiwork is seen in created nature.  “We observed his star at its rising”. The magi know that there is something significant happening.

When did they come?

The Gospel of Saint Luke doesn’t mention the Magi and holds that the Holy Family returned to Nazareth after the presentation of Jesus at the Temple where he was circumcised. It’s probable that Saint Luke didn’t know of this episode in Jesus’ early life. Saint Matthew seems to place the visit of the Magi some time after Jesus’ birth. The Holy Family are in a “house” not in the
stable of the inn.  Herod kills all the newborn boys under the age of two years. So it’s likely that the Holy Family had stayed for some time in Bethlehem and the Magi came some time after Jesus’ birth, perhaps as long as two years after.

WHY did they come?

Clearly, the Magi were searching.  The Magi recognized much of the truth of Jesus, who he was and what he would become.  The magi had a general idea of this God and this King of the Jews, but they didn’t really know who or what they were looking for.  Bono and U2 were criticized some years ago by some supposedly orthodox Christians when they produced a song entitled, “I still haven’t found what I am looking for.”  I can’t see the problem with that especially given the spiritual depths in many of their songs. You see, the example of the Magi was that they were searchers, not really knowing what or who they were looking for.  They didn’t claim to have it all but they saw their lives as a journey of discovery. And in that they are an example to us. We don’t know it all. But if we like them are prepared to be diligent seekers, then like them we may be graced by God’s light, by our Epiphany.  When the wise men finally found Jesus, we are told that their first response was joy – “they were overwhelmed with joy”. That is what happens when we find Jesus. This is what awaits us at the end of the journey. Next, they paid him homage – they worshiped him and acknowledged Him as King. After the joy comes the worship. That means acknowledging Jesus as King. Jesus as the center. Jesus as Lord. And then, after joy and after worship, comes offering of their gifts. In response to who Jesus is and the joy He gives, we offer ourselves and our gifts to Him.

So my message for today is to dare, like them, to take the risk of seeking, and God may well bless us with our own Epiphanies which transform us as doubtless the Magi were transformed by what must have been a surprising experience for them as they knelt before the infant Jesus.

So how do you find Jesus? Maybe you can start out like the Magi – with a general idea of God, and a general idea that He is guiding you. Like the Magi, we need to turn to the scriptures. If you don’t read them, you will never really get the specific directions that God is trying to give you. Approach them with the right spirit, the right purpose. Ask for help along the way – the church, God’s people, are meant to help you along that way. The wise men knew when they needed to ask someone else for help. And pray. Ask God. When you find Jesus, rejoice. After all, He is God. Put Him in the center of your life. Ask yourself whether what you are doing honors him a King. Offer to him what you have, who you are.

Where can this Jesus be found?  He is with you now.  Won’t you seek Him?  Won’t you recognize Him?  Won’t you let Him fill YOUR life with joy?  Amen. 

A young soldier once wrote to his father, complaining of his many duties and the demands of the military life, even rising in the early hours to begin the day. His father was not impressed, and replied: ‘My boy, your mother and I must get up three or four times a night to calm a crying baby [they had just had their fourteenth child], and that is less romantic than your physical training. (Howard Twilley)

Many of the abilities and abilities we possess as adults and probably never comprehend are due to our parent’s unrelenting sacrifice. Brushing teeth, tying laces, riding bikes: nobody is born with these abilities – someone has had to endure boredom of the highest level, repeating the same old thing repeatedly and again for our sake. How bored my mother must have been spending night after night throwing me in the air whenever I managed to read a word correctly (I had stubbornly refused to start reading), but it worked, and I was soon reading without any encouragement.

Every one of us has the benefit of numerous acts of generosity and sacrifice. That is what it means to be part of a family, to be a part of a community where people give themselves freely so others can grow and develop. I exist against a hidden backdrop of generation after generation, a story of formation in human life of which I am a part of the chain.

Jesus, as the genealogies in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke remind us, is a part of a family story, he exists against a backdrop of generation formation, of sacrifice and generosity. In the Gospel, we see Jesus’ immediate family situation shifted to the limit through anxiety and fear of loss.

Mary and Joseph have searched for three days and three nights for Jesus, and when they find him in the Temple his words must have cast a shadow over the life they lived together: ‘Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house.’ The child given to them to raise, to sacrifice for, is destined to be the sacrifice of liberation for the whole human race. Jesus’ destiny is to give everything back to the source of creation, so that it may be renewed and recreated. He tells us that the backdrop of all things is the patient generosity of the Father, who will sacrifice even his own Son so that we may have a life.

Therefore, the holy family is a family learning to live backwards. The child is often the image of the parents, but in this family, Mary is in the image of her Son: without sin she is a mirror for the newness of what God is doing in Christ, and Joseph – like us a sinner – is called to let that image be formed in him patiently, through the graces of the Holy Spirit working within him.

This family, called to form and raise a boy, is a school where the adults are established through knowing and loving the child. The Gospel contrasts the scribes in the Temple, amazed at the wisdom of the boy Jesus, as so many will be amazed at his words in his earthly ministry – an amazement so compatible with taking offence, rejecting Jesus, putting him to death. Those entrusted with teaching Israel will not desire to learn, will not be able to see.

Mary, we are told, kept all these things in her heart. Mary’s humility allows her to be taught by her own child, and so she can become more deeply in the image of the one who is the true image of the Father. Going back to Nazareth Jesus is obedient to Mary and Joseph and grows in stature. The holy family is a place of passing on the story of human life, of the old transforming into the young. Moreover, this family is a place where the young shape the old, where the heart must grow older as it contemplates the face of Christ.

As much of what we do is passing on, passing on the benefits of human life and human life to those who will come after us. Whether it is our savings, the future good of the planet, or a love for great literature, human beings seek to convey it to others. But not everything is passing away into the future. The child born of Mary has come to renew humanity, to bring it back to life in the freshness of God’s Holy Spirit through the merciful patience of the Father.