Blessed Gonsalvo, C.O.P.

Born in 1187 at Vizella, in the diocese of Braga, Portugal, Gonsalvo de Amarante was a true son of the Middle Ages.  In his boyhood Gonsalvo Pereira  gave indications of his holiness. While still small, he was consecrated to study for the Church, and received his training in the household of the archbishop of Braga. After his ordination he was given charge of a wealthy parish.

There was no complaint with Gonsalvo’s governance of the parish of Saint Pelagius. He was penitential himself, but indulgent with everyone else. Revenues that he might have used for himself were used for the poor and the sick. The parish, in fact, was doing very well when he turned it over to his nephew, whom he had carefully trained as a priest, before making a pilgrimage to the Holy Land.

Gonsalvo would have remained his entire life in the Holy Land, but after 14 years his archbishop commanded him to return to Portugal. Upon his arrival, he was horrified to see that his nephew had not been the good shepherd that he had promised to be, the money left for the poor had gone to purchase a fine stable of thoroughbred horses and a pack of fine hounds. The nephew had told everyone that his old uncle was dead, and he had been appointed pastor in his place by an unsuspecting archbishop. When the uncle appeared on the scene, ragged and old, but very much alive, the nephew was not happy to see him. Gonsalvo seems to have been surprised as well as pained.

The ungrateful nephew settled the matter by turning the dogs on his inconvenient uncle. They would have torn him to pieces, but the servants called them off and allowed the ragged pilgrim to escape. Gonsalvo decided then that he had withstood enough parish life, and went out into the hills to a place called Amarante. Here he found a cave and other necessities for an eremitical life and lived in peace for several years, spending his time building a little chapel to the Blessed Virgin. He preached to those who came to him, and soon there was a steady stream of pilgrims seeking out his retreat.

Happy as he was, Golsalvo felt that this was not his sole mission in life, and he prayed for help to discern his real vocation. It is said that the Virgin Mary appeared to him one night as he prayed and told him to enter the order that had the custom of beginning the office with “Ave Maria gratia plena.” She told him that this order was very dear to her and under her special protection. Gonsalvo set out to learn what order she meant, and eventually came to the convent of the Dominicans. Here was the end of the quest, and he asked for the habit.

Blessed Peter Gonzales was the prior, and he gave the habit to the new aspirant. After Gonsalvo had gone through his novitiate, he was sent back to Amarante, with a companion, to begin a regular house of the order. The people of the neighborhood quickly spread the news that the hermit was back. They flocked to hear him preach, and begged him to heal their sick.

One of the miracles of Blessed Gonsalvo concerns the building of a bridge across a swift river that barred many people from reaching the hermitage in wintertime. It was not a good place to build a bridge, but Gonsalvo set about it and followed the heavenly directions he had received. Once, during the building of the bridge, he went out collecting, and a man who wanted to brush him off painlessly sent him away with a note for his wife.

Gonsalvo took the note to the man’s wife, and she laughed when she read it. “Give him as much gold as will balance with the note I send you,” said the message. Gonsalvo told her he thought she ought to obey her husband, so she got out the scales and put the paper in one balance. Then she put a tiny coin in the other balance, and another, and another–the paper still outweighed her gold–and she kept adding. There was a sizeable pile of coins before the balance with the paper in it swung upwards.

Gonsalvo died 10 January 1259, after prophesying the day of his death and promising his friends that he would still be able to help them after death. Pilgrimages began soon, and a series of miracles indicated that something should be done about his beatification. Forty years after his death he appeared to several people who were apprehensively watching a flood on the river. The water had arisen to a dangerous level, just below the bridge, when they saw a tree floating towards the bridge, and Gonsalvo was balancing capably on its rolling balk. The friar carefully guided the tree under the bridge, preserving the bridge from damage, and then disappeared.  He was beatified by Pius IV in 1560.

Blessed Francis of Capillas, M.O.P.

The 17th century was a period of great missionary activity. Many martyrs shed their blood on distant shores. Dominicans and Jesuits contributed a great share to the blood of martyrs. Among this glorious company, the Dominican Francis de Capillas has become the type and exemplar of them.

Francis was born in 1608 in Old Castile, Spain.  Nothing is known of his childhood. He entered the Dominicans at Valladolid at age 17. The Spain of his youth was still ringing with the missionary zeal of Saints Louis Bertrand, Philip de las Casas, and Francis Xavier; the report of the martyrdom of Alphonsus Navarette (June 1), in Japan, was news at the time. Perhaps the bravery of these men helped to fire the young Francis with apostolic longing, for he volunteered for the Philippine mission while he was a deacon.   In 1631 at the age of 23, he left Spain and was ordained in Manila. Here, at the gateway to the Orient, the Dominicans had founded a university in 1611, and the city teemed with missionaries traveling throughout the Orient.

The young priest labored for 10 years in the province of Cagayan, the Philippines, where heat, insects, disease, and paganism made life very hard. But it was not hard enough for Francis. He begged for a mission field that was really difficult; perhaps, like many of the eager young apostles of that time, he was hoping for an assignment in Japan, where the great persecution was raging. He was sent to Fukien, China, where he worked uneventfully for some years. Then a Tartar invasion put his life in jeopardy. He was captured by a band of Tartars and imprisoned as a spy.

Francis was subjected to a mock trial. Civil, military, and religious officials questioned him, and they accused him of everything from political intrigue to witchcraft. He was charged with disregarding ancestor worship, and, finally, since they could “find no cause in him,” he was turned over to the torturers.

He endured the cruel treatment of these men with great courage. Seeing his calmness, the magistrates became curious about his doctrines. They offered him wealth, power, and freedom, if he would renounce his faith, but he amazed and annoyed them by choosing to suffer instead. They varied the tortures with imprisonment, and he profitably used the time to convert his jailor and fellow prisoners. Even the mandarin visited him in prison, asking Francis if he would renounce his faith or would he prefer to suffer more. Being told that he was glad to suffer for Christ, the mandarin furiously ordered that he be scourged again “so he would have even more to be glad about.”

Francis was finally condemned, and was beheaded on 15 January 1640.  He was beatified on 2 May 1919 by Pope Pius X.

Powerless? Never!

In recent weeks, I have felt this sense of powerlessness, like my life is spiraling out of control.  It felt as if forces, dark forces I believe, had hold of my every day life and were trying to drive me insane with this deep hole of depression. Emotions were out of control, feelings of despair, sadness, confusion, and vague loss seemed to consume my thoughts on a daily basis.  This feeling of helplessness left me exhausted, and did not allow me to see what was really going on, until I could take a step back from my situation.  I am sure we all have felt just such a dark mire of emotions, whether from an actual life event, such as death, loss of job, sudden illness, etc.  Or maybe, like me, this vague sense of feeling helpless, powerless, did not have an external source, but instead was a by product of a soul who sought strength from within herself, when she should have looked up. As illustrated in Isaiah 43:1-7,  we are reminded that God created us, we are His, and He is always with us.

43:1 But now thus says the LORD, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.
43:2 When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.
43:3 For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. I give Egypt as your ransom, Ethiopia and Seba in exchange for you.

43:4 Because you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you, I give people in return for you, nations in exchange for your life.
43:5 Do not fear, for I am with you; I will bring your offspring from the east, and from the west I will gather you;
43:6 I will say to the north, “Give them up,” and to the south, “Do not withhold; bring my sons from far away and my daughters from the end of the earth–
43:7 everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made.”

“Do not fear, for I am with you” –

How easily it can be to forget, in our everyday rush,  this simple comfort from our Lord.  After spending weeks trying to find a solution to my problems, real or imagined, I came to this honest truth, and received comfort and peace.  Realizing I was not as powerless as I had thought, was a huge relief.  But also knowing that if a problem was too big for this Sister to handle, I only had to ask for guidance and encouragement from our mighty Savior. His power and strength know no bounds.

Psalm 29
29:1 Ascribe to the LORD, O heavenly beings, ascribe to the LORD glory and strength.
29:2 Ascribe to the LORD the glory of his name; worship the LORD in holy splendor.
29:3 The voice of the LORD is over the waters; the God of glory thunders, the LORD, over mighty waters.
29:4 The voice of the LORD is powerful; the voice of the LORD is full of majesty.
29:5 The voice of the LORD breaks the cedars; the LORD breaks the cedars of Lebanon.
29:6 He makes Lebanon skip like a calf, and Sirion like a young wild ox.
29:7 The voice of the LORD flashes forth flames of fire.
29:8 The voice of the LORD shakes the wilderness; the LORD shakes the wilderness of Kadesh.
29:9 The voice of the LORD causes the oaks to whirl, and strips the forest bare; and in his temple all say, “Glory!”
29:10 The LORD sits enthroned over the flood; the LORD sits enthroned as king forever.
29:11 May the LORD give strength to his people! May the LORD bless his people with peace!

I read a post on the internet the other day that illustrates a key point here-“If God is your co-pilot, switch seats”.  This simple truth cautions us to aways keep in mind that, though God gives us power to handle things in life, we should never take this power for granted. Or worse yet, assume that WE are the source of this strength and power, and not our mighty Lord. For when one considers themself to be all powerful, and tries to control people and circumstances in their life or of those around them, then they have set them selves above God. In Luke 3:16,  John best describes why we should always be humbled before the Lord.

Luke 3:15-17, 21-22
3:15 As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah,
3:16 John answered all of them by saying, “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.
3:17 His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”
3:21 Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened,
3:22 and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

I have learned from these past few weeks to always trust in the Lord, seeking His guidance in all things.

Psalm 29:11

“May the LORD give strength to his people! May the LORD bless his people with peace!”

“Be Still, and know that I am God” Psalm 46:10

“Be still, and know that I am God” Psalm 46:10

It always seems as if there is something to do, someplace to go or someone to call.  A problem to resolve or an unexpected one developing.  I check the time, only to find time is running out.  Was I to be there already?  What was I to get? Did I mail that or completely forget to write it out to start with?  I am certain I recall  correctly but I could be mistaken, are you sure that is what I said I would do?  Is that today?!   I am not running out of things to do, only time to do them!

Wait!  I’m a priest!  Did I pray the Daily Office?  How close is it to 3pm?  I have the Chaplet of Divine Mercy to pray. Wait! Was that counseling session this afternoon?  Tonight?  Was I to call him, or was he to call me?  Did I say I would do that visitation before dinner or after?  I know I am definitely behind schedule, I’d better get out to the car and get going!

WOW!  What a beautiful sunset.  It is true, only God can paint a sunset. It feels good too, with an autumn chill finally setting into the air.  As hot as the summer had been, winter is just around the corner.  I can tell, the Canadian geese overhead have already begun their flight.  Is anything more incredible that these birds make this journey year after year and always end up home?  What a picture- the geese, the sky streaked with wispy clouds, the air smelling of smoke from a distant fireplace and that beautiful sunset.  Yes indeed, only God can paint a picture like this.

Wait, I find that time has slowed down.  So has my heart rate.  The words of my favorite passage come back to visit me, as they always do and usually when I need to be reminded of them the most.  “Be still, and know that I am God.” [Psalm 46:10)

I find my most spiritual moments- the strongest presence of God, when I am quiet.  Usually when I am surrounded by nature and the beauty of God’s creation.  God often speaks to me through nature. I am like Job. I hear His voice in a clap of thunder, in a crash of a wave upon the beach and in the roar of the wind as a storm approaches.  I also hear God in the whisper of that wind, as it beckons the kites to dance or in the cry of a seagull as it rides the wind above the beach.

God can be heard in the laughter of children, in the humming tune of a grandmother or in the blessing of a passing stranger on the street when someone has sneezed.  God can be heard in the trumpet of Taps at a soldiers funeral, in the chime of a church bell or in the heartfelt embrace of friends. God can be heard in the babbling brook, in the song of birds in spring, in the rustle of wind-blown autumn leaves or in the silence of a snowy winter night.

God speaks to us constantly. God speaks to us in many ways.  Through the songs of nature, an urgent plea to help and in the voices of our  friends.  God longs for us to listen.  God initiates the conversation.  God waits for us. All we have to do is listen.

“Be still, and know that I am God“.

Searching, Finding…Epiphany!

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.”
When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born.
They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet:  ‘And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel.'”
Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared.  Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.”
When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was.  When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy.  On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.  Matthew 2:1-12 (NIV)

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 recognised 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.

 

Shepherds….

8And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.  9And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.

10And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.  11For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.

12And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.  13And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,

14Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

15And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us.  16And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.

17And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child.  18And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds.

19But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.  20And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them. Luke 2:8-20  King James Version (KJV)

After 2000 years of Christmas sermons, in hundreds of languages, in different countries throughout the world, and by way of innumerable faith traditions, is there anything new or original left to be said about Christmas, and what it means, that hasn’t been said before?   Perhaps not.  However, like re-reading that favorite book for the 17th time, or watching that favorite movie or television show for the 358th time, even when you know exactly what comes next, what the very next word is going to be, often we find a new meaning or a new slant on something that is as tried and true as Christmas itself.

 And so it is with me this year.  The Gospel reading for today  recalls the story of the angels bringing the news of Christ’s birth to the shepherds.  Now, we all know that story.  We’ve heard it many times over, and those of us who cherish “A Charlie Brown Christmas” will always, in some ways, hear Linus quoting from Luke, no matter who is reading that passage of the Bible to us.   We know the story.  We SEE the story in every Nativity scene we pass by.  There is almost always a shepherd near the manger carrying a lamb on his shoulders and another lamb or sheep to be seen somewhere hanging around.    It’s always seemed to me that the sheep and the shepherds were just THERE, minor players in a Christmas play, the “extras” assigned to the kids who didn’t quite measure up to the roles of Mary or Joseph;  they enter stage left, ooh and aah over the baby, and exit stage right, singing “Go tell it on the mountain”, singularly unimportant and taking secondary roles to the more illustrious wise men (who in reality weren’t there at all) and most definitely playing supporting roles to the Holy Family, or just standing around as so much scenery, contributing to the mood and filling up the bare spots in the Nativity scene.  I overheard a conversation recently that made me really think about the shepherds.  While visiting some friends, their cat jumped into the midst of the family crèche and knocked over the obligatory shepherd.  It was chipped.  The younger daughter of the family was somewhat distressed, and to make the little girl feel better, the mother said to her, “Don’t worry about it, Honey.  It’s just the shepherd.  He’s not all that important.”    I didn’t think much about it at the time, but when reading the Scripture appointed for today, it struck me.  Not all that important?  But weren’t they?  Who WERE these shepherds?  Why were they there in the first place?  Why did THEY get the news of Christ’s birth in such a spectacular way?  Who were they that they should be eyewitnesses of God’s glory and receive history’s greatest birth announcement?

In Christ’s day, shepherds stood on the bottom rung of the Palestinian social ladder. They shared the same unenviable status as tax collectors and dung sweepers. Only Luke mentions them.  When the twelve tribes of Israel migrated to Egypt, they encountered a lifestyle foreign to them. The Egyptians were agriculturalists. As farmers, they despised shepherding because sheep and goats meant death to crops. Battles between farmers and shepherds are as old as they are fierce. The first murder in history erupted from a farmer’s resentment of a shepherd.  Smug religious leaders maintained a strict caste system at the expense of shepherds and other common folk. Shepherds were officially labeled “sinners”—a technical term for a class of despised people.

Into this social context of religious snobbery and class prejudice, God’s Son stepped forth. How surprising and significant that God the Father handpicked lowly, unpretentious shepherds to be the first to hear the joyous news: “It’s a boy, and He’s the Messiah!”  What an affront to the religious leaders who were so conspicuously absent from the divine mailing list.  Even from birth, Christ moved among the lowly.  It was the sinners, not the self-righteous, He came to save.  So is it  really all that surprising that the first announcement of Christ’s birth was to the lowly shepherds on Bethlehem’s hillsides?

Consider the events leading up to Christ’s birth.   Mary was barely 15.  Christ was born to an unwed mother, Mary, a servant girl; Mary the young woman who delivered while only betrothed to Joseph.  He was born in a stable, a cave!   A holy God being born to a couple no different than immigrants, far from home and in a strange city, in a place where animals were kept.  A couple who couldn’t even find a place to stay, turned out of every inn!  It’s all too bizarre.

Yet this is the God we experience.  This is our claim;  This is the meaning of his very name: Immanuel, meaning “God with us” — with us not just in nice times, but most especially in the times of our lives when we are in the caves, and stables of our lives, when we are turned out of the places we’d like to be, when we are at the lowest of low points, when we are out in the dark, and in the cold like the shepherds.

Our God, the God who comes to us in the person of Jesus Christ, is the God of the oppressed, the repressed, the depressed; the God of the sad, the grieving, the sorrowful; the God of the lonely, the lowly, the poor, the God of the Shepherds; the God of the despised, the destitute, the dejected. Our God is the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God who stood with the enslaved Hebrews in Egypt, who led them out of Egypt to a promised land of freedom.  Our God is the God of widows and orphans and stranded travelers. Our God is the God who doesn’t stay neat and tidy and spotless, but comes and stands beside us in our times of deepest need, who comes among us as the child in the dirty manger and the God of the shepherds on the hillside.  The God we’re speaking of dares to join the unsuccessful, the failures, the dispossessed, and the downtrodden;  the God of the Shepherds.

Wherever there is suffering, our God is there. He stands with Zacchaeus, the despised tax collector, and with Bartimaeus, the blind beggar. He is with us when we face cancer, chemotherapy, and radiation treatments. He is with us when we face amputations, operations, loneliness, the loss of a loved one, or even death itself.  The God of the manger and the Shepherd is Immanuel, God with us. At our deepest times of loss and need, in the dirtiest and most embarrassing parts of our lives, God is with us, His rod and His staff, they comfort us.  It is God who glues us back together when we become, like that figure in my friends’ Nativity scene, chipped, flawed, and much less than perfect.

And it is up to us, to demonstrate the love of God, the God of the lowly, the downtrodden, to the world.  We, like the shepherds in the Christmas story, are to be the ones who are to proclaim the good news “which shall be to all people” to all the people of the world.   It is our responsibility as Christians to be the instruments through which God can work in this world.  As was  most famously stated more than four centuries ago by Saint Theresa of Avila:

Christ has no body but yours,
no hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks with compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are his body.
Christ has no body now but yours, no hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks with compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.

 My very favorite Christmas carol, “In the Bleak Midwinter,” includes the lines, “What, then, shall I bring him, empty as I am? If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb. If I were a wise man I would do my part.  What can I give Him?  I can give Him my heart.”

Won’t you, this Christmas, give Him your heart?  Won’t you, like the shepherds in the children’s plays of the Christmas story, be one to “go tell it on the mountain, over the fields and everywhere” that Jesus Christ is born?  Amen.

 

 

 

O Little Town of Bethlehem~ by Fr. Bryan Wolf

The Fourth Sunday of Advent

December 23,2012

The peace and joy of our Lord Jesus Christ, be with you all!

We can sense the excitement in the air!  Christmas is but a couple of days away!  The joyous birthday celebration of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

But what of that very first Christmas?  It really wasn’t even Christmas then.  Bethlehem.  A small town located in the hills of  Judea, a not ten miles from Jerusalem.  Rich in the history of the Jewish people.  Rachel is buried here, and it was here that Ruth and Boaz met and were married- ultimately becoming the great grandparents of David, second king of the Jews.

“Thus says the Lord, you Bethlehem… from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler of all Israel.” [Micah 5:2] “He will stand and shepherd his flock in the strength of the Lord, in the majesty of the name of the Lord, his God. And they will live securely, for then his greatness will reach to the ends of the earth.  And he will be our peace…” [Micah 5:4-5]

When it was announced that a census was to be taken by Quirinius (Roman Governor of Syria), Joseph “… went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, to whom he was pledged to be married and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in the manger, because there was no guest room available for them.”  [Luke 2:4-7]

“And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them: ‘Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all people. For unto you this day in the town of David, a Savior has been born- he is Christ, the Lord. This will be a sign unto you, you will find him wrapped in clothes and lying in a manger.” [Luke 2:8-12]

We can imagine this chaotic scene.  The small town of Bethlehem crowded and brimming with people, many of them extended families as the census required them to travel to their ancestral villages.  Sharing homes and rooms. Bustling with activity and of course, noise.  Hardly conducive to the stress and strain of childbirth.  But with this information, we tend to overlook an important point.  Our savior was not abandoned, nor born in conditions to harsh.

We learn from scripture, that shepherds were nearby in the fields tending to their sheep at night.  Normally, winters in this part of the world are deary, cold and rainy.  This seems not to have been the case.  Had it been, shepherds normally would have moved their sheep inside barns.  We may believe that this winter’s night was somewhat mild.

Scripture all tells us that there was no “guest room” for Mary to deliver her child.  It is a likely assumption, as they traveled to Bethlehem to register in their ancestral home, that Joseph and Mary had family there.  Being pregnant, we could assume she would not have been turned away.  But with each house filled to the rafters with noisy relatives, where to birth a baby in peace?  In a manger, of course!

A manger, a small attachment to the main house were animals were quartered.  It is dry, warm and cozy.  Close enough for family, but removed enough for quiet.  There Mary and Joseph, could rest from their tiresome journey and insure the baby Jesus was comfortable too.

We needn’t paint a picture of harsh uninviting conditions.  Yes, babies were born in more comfortable conditions such as a house or bed, but this was a frenzied night.  We must remember too, God had provided a magnificent star and a chorus of angels to serenade his birth- could we truly believe God would allow Jesus in a mess?

I cannot think of a more beautiful and tranquil way in which to enter the world at the time. A dry warm manger, laying peaceful under the watchful eyes of mother- and a donkey and a cow or two. A cow has such beautiful eyes. Jesus must have smiled and perhaps even giggled.

Bethlehem- noisy, crowded, bustling.  The manger- dry, warm, safe.

“O holy Child of Bethlehem, acsend to us we pray. Cast out our sin and enter in-  be born in us today. We hear the Christmas angel, the great glad tidings tell. O come to us, abide with us- our dear Lord Emmanuel!” [O Little of Bethlehem, fourth stanza by Fr. Phillip Brooks. (c) 1865.]

Blessed Margaret of Savoy, Widow, O.P.

Margaret of Savoy, daughter of Duke Amadeo II, is one of three royal princesses who wore the Dominican habit and were beatified. In the 15th century, she was the glory of a family that has given several beati to the Church.

Born into the royal house of Savoy, Margaret grew up in a household in which piety and wealth were ordinary. Her own parents died when she was small, and she was educated by an uncle, who arranged an early marriage for her to the Marquis of Montferrat, Theodore Paleologus.

As queen of her fairly large domain, Margaret was the model of Christian rulers. She felt that it was her duty to exceed in charity and humility in the proportion that she was wealthier than those around her, and she devoted all of her time to God and to her neighbors. Her husband was a widower with two children, to whom she gave the greatest care. The hundreds of dependents on the large estates came to her for charity and instruction.

Disaster stuck Savoy several times in the years when she was wife and mother. Famine and plague came, making great demands on her time and her courage. Unhesitatingly, she went out to nurse the plague-stricken with her own hands, and she sent out food and clothing from her husband’s stores until it was doubtful if anything would be left. After this crisis passed, war hovered over the kingdom, and she prayed earnestly that they would be delivered from the horrors of invasion.

In 1418, the marquis died. His young widow was one of the most eligible women in Europe. Margaret sorrowed for her husband, but she made it clear to her relatives that they need not plan another marriage for her, as she was going to enter a convent. In order to live a life of complete renunciation, she decided to found a convent of her own at Alba in Liguria that would follow the ancient rule of Saint Dominic. Accordingly, she took over a cloister which had fallen into ruin, having only a few poor inhabitants, and rebuilt it for Dominican use. She dedicated the house to St. Mary Magdalen.

There is one very delightful story told of her sojourn in the convent. When she had been there many years, she one day had a young visitor; he was the son of one of her step-children. Hunting nearby, he had killed a doe, and he brought her the motherless fawn to tend. It was a pretty little animal, and it soon grew to be a pet. One legend was that the fawn was able to go and find any sister she would name, and, for several years, the animal had free rein of the halls and cells of the sisters. Perhaps it was true, though, since the house confessor told her that the deer must go. She took it to the gate and told it to go. It fled into the forest, and returned only when Margaret was about to die.

Margaret attained a high degree of contemplative prayer. One time Our Lord appeared to her and asked her whether she would rather suffer calumny, sickness, or persecution. Margaret generously accepted all three. Her offer was taken, and for the remaining years of her life she suffered intensely from all three sorrows (Dorcy). It should be noted that Saint Vincent Ferrer influenced Margaret to join the Dominican tertiaries (Benedictines).

 

 

 

Happy Holidays and Merry Xmas!!!

It’s that time of year again.  The time for all and sundry to argue the finer points of holiday greetings:  Merry Christmas versus Happy Holidays, and for the condemnation of using Xmas instead of Christmas.  At the risk of being seen as a non-Christian minister, or a politically correct one, and abandoning or at least not defending my faith and my Lord, I feel compelled for some odd reason, to offer a defense of the use of Happy Holidays and Xmas.  So here goes….

“Happy Holidays.”  Now really, what’s wrong with that?  It’s a pleasant wish that encompasses good wishes for an entire month and a half long season.  Granted, that “season” is usually meant to be the period between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day, and is usually understood to include only Christmas and New Year’s Day.   However, in that time period, what other holidays are there?  “Happy Holidays” is a collective and inclusive wish for the period encompassing Thanksgiving, Kwanzaa, Hanukkah, the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the Winter solstice, Christmas Day (The Nativity of the Lord), Boxing Day and St. Stephen’s Day, St. John’s Day, the New Year and Epiphany, and it would take me forever to get through the list, if I could remember the list at all, just to give a pleasant hello to someone!  “Happy Holidays” is just easier!  Most of the aforementioned holidays ARE Christian holidays, though, so what’s wrong with “Happy Holidays?”

Leaving those “Happy Holidays” that are in the Christian calendar for a few minutes; let’s look at the ones that aren’t Christian holidays.  Granted, I don’t really consider the Winter solstice a holiday, so I could omit that one altogether and not feel too bad about it.  Kwanzaa is celebrated by our African American brothers and sisters and is not a substitute for Christmas, nor is it a religious holiday.  Wishing someone a happy Kwanzaa does nothing to deny Christianity, but it’s a holiday that I personally don’t celebrate, since I’m not African American.  I DO have many African American friends, however, and most certainly wish them all a happy and joyous Kwanzaa, as well as Christmas!

Hanukkah is a Jewish festival, celebrating a miracle that occurred way back in the 2nd century BCE.  Also known as the Festival of Lights, it is an eight-day Jewish holiday commemorating the rededication of the Holy Temple (the Second Temple) in Jerusalem at the time of the Maccabean Revolt.  The story of Hanukkah is alluded to in the book of 1 Maccabees and 2 Maccabees, but Hanukkah is not specially mentioned; rather, a story similar in character, and obviously older in date, is the one alluded to in 2 Maccabees 1:18,  according to which the relighting of the altar fire by Nehemiah was due to a miracle which occurred on the 25th of Kislev, and which appears to be given as the reason for the selection of the same date for the rededication of the altar by Judah Maccabee.  Now, 1 and 2 Maccabees are not considered canonical books by most Protestants, but are included in the Apocrypha, which IS in Catholic and Orthodox Bibles.  So while Hanukkah is not a Christian holiday, per se, it can be considered Biblical.  And since it celebrates the lighting of the rededication of the Temple and is celebrated with lights, and Christ is “the Light of the World,” Happy Hanukkah to my Jewish friends!

The day after Christmas is Boxing Day, which is celebrated in the Commonwealth countries.  The tradition of Boxing Day has long included giving money and other gifts to those who are needy and in service positions, and the European tradition has been dated to the Middle Ages.  Shouldn’t we, as Christians, do this year round, and not just during the “holidays”?

New Years Day:  Now, there’s a pagan holiday for you!  The Romans dedicated this day to Janus, the god of gates, doors, and beginnings. The month of January was named after Janus, who had two faces, one looking forward and the other looking backward.  It is from this Roman custom that we get the making of New Year’s resolutions:  looking backward, we resolve to not do something or other, and looking forward, we resolve TO do something or other.  Among the 7th century pagans of Flanders and the Netherlands, it was the custom to exchange gifts at the New Year.  So, I guess I’m asking, should we as Christians NOT celebrate the new year and not wish everyone a “Happy New Year”?  If this is the case, then we should certainly avoid making New Year’s resolutions, too.

And then, there are the religious holidays that most Christians don’t really celebrate, and some don’t even know about.  The Feast of Saint Stephen, who was the first Christian martyr on 26 December, the Feast of St. John who was the “Beloved Disciple” on 27 December, the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary on  8 December, and the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe on 12 December have already been mentioned.

Finally, there is Epiphany, which is perhaps one of the most important holidays of the liturgical or church year.  It is the last day of the Twelve Days of Christmas of which we sing in the (often-denigrated) Christmas carol, and which is overlooked by most non-liturgical churches.  Epiphany, which falls on January 6, is a Christian feast day that celebrates the revelation of God the Son as a human being in Jesus Christ.  Western Christians commemorate principally (but not solely) the visitation of the Biblical Magi to the Baby Jesus, and thus Jesus’ physical manifestation to the Gentiles.  The early Christian Fathers fixed the date of the feast on January 6.  Ancient liturgies noted Illuminatio, Manifestatio, Declaratio (Illumination, Manifestation, Declaration) taken from  Matthew 3:13–17; Luke 3:22; and John 2:1–11; where the Baptism and the Marriage at Cana were dwelt upon. Western Christians have traditionally emphasized the “Revelation to the Gentiles” mentioned in Luke, where the term Gentile means all non-Jewish peoples. The Biblical Magi, who represented the non-Jewish peoples of the world, paid homage to the infant Jesus in stark contrast to Herod the Great (King of Judea), who sought to kill him.  In this event, Christian writers also inferred a revelation to the Children of Israel. Saint John Chrysostom identified the significance of the meeting between the Magi and Herod’s court: “The star had been hidden from them so that, on finding themselves without their guide, they would have no alternative but to consult the Jews. In this way, the birth of Jesus would be made known to all.”  The earliest reference to Epiphany as a Christian feast was in A.D. 361, by Ammianus Marcellinus.   St. Epiphanius says that January 6 is hemera genethlion toutestin epiphanion (Christ’s “Birthday; that is, His Epiphany”).  He also asserts that the Miracle at Cana occurred on the same calendar day, and it was on this day, too, that John the Baptist baptized Jesus in the Jordan River.  So on 6 January, after all the Christmas trimmings have been put away, the gifts exchanged, New Years resolutions have been made (and some broken already), and the kids are back in school, we can still say, with all feeling, “Happy Holidays.”

Honestly, don’t you think “Happy Holidays” is so much easier?

Now, What about that pesky “Xmas” that annoys so many people?

To begin:  Look around in your churches, my friends, especially those of you from a liturgical background, and see how many X’s you can find.

“Xmas” is a common abbreviation of the word “Christmas“.  The “-mas” part is from the Latin-derived Old English word for “Mass“, while the “X” comes from the Greek letter Chi, which is the first letter of the Greek word Χριστός, translated as “Christ“.  There is a common misconception that the word Xmas is a secular attempt to remove the religious tradition from Christmas by taking the “Christ” out of “Christmas”.  While “Xmas” is considered to be an informal abbreviation, and should never be used in formal writing, it is historically correct.

The word “Christ” and its compounds, including “Christmas”, have been abbreviated in English for at least the past 1,000 years, long before the modern “Xmas” was commonly used. “Christ” was often written as “XP” or “Xt”; there are references in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle as far back as AD 1021. This X and P arose as the uppercase forms of the Greek letters χ and ρ used in ancient abbreviations for Χριστος (Greek for “Christ”), and are still widely seen in many Eastern Orthodox icons depicting Jesus Christ. The labarum, an amalgamation of the two Greek letters rendered as ☧, is a symbol often used to represent Christ in Catholic, Protestant, and Orthodox Christian Churches.

The Oxford English Dictionary (OED) and the OED Supplement have cited usages of “X-” or “Xp-” for “Christ-” as early as 1485. The terms “Xpian” and “Xtian” have also been used for “Christian”. The dictionary further cites usage of “Xtianity” for “Christianity” from 1634. According to Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary of English Usage, most of the evidence for these words comes from “educated Englishmen who knew their Greek”.

In ancient Christian art, χ and χρ are abbreviations for Christ’s name. In many manuscripts of the New Testament and icons, Χ is an abbreviation for Χριστος, as is XC (the first and last letters in Greek, using the lunate sigma); compare IC for Jesus in Greek.

Thus, really and truly, the use of the “X” isn’t taking Christ out of Christmas at all.  And instead of protesting the use of “X” during the  Christmas season, wouldn’t we ALL be better people, the world be a better place, and Christ be better served,  if we kept that “X” in our words and deeds every day of the year?  Should we not celebrate Him always, 24/7/365?

So, having said all of the above, Happy Holidays (all of them) to all of you, and may you keep Christ, not only in Christmas, but also in your hearts and minds and lives, every day and always.  Amen.