Homily 

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St. Louis Church
Pittsford, New York


 

 

 

 

 

Previous Homilies
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Father Kevin Murphy
Pastor, St. Louis Church


 FOURTH SUNDAY OF EASTER

Today is traditionally “Good Shepherd” Sunday in the Church year. We usually would image Jesus as a Shepherd who cares for the sheep and who watches out for and provides for them. However, the Gospel gives us a different image of Jesus today. He clearly says: “I am the gate for the sheep.” So when we expect an image of a person who is caring and helpful, we get the image of a gate. We,(and to honest with you) as a preacher, I would prefer the personal. I decided though to hold onto the image of the gate.

So let’s think about gates and what they might teach us about our journey with the Lord. Some people live in gated communities; we have gates that allow us into concerts and sporting matches; there are toll gates as we enter the NYS Thruway. Gates allow us to move in an orderly, safe, and controlled way. Gates can offer a boundary to human activity and keep us organized. They are for our protection and give stability and structure to what might be chaotic. In a sense the walls of this Church are like gates that unite and form us; they give us a chance to experience something here together as bonded believers.

If you have ever been to Ireland, you know that this image from the SS is not that of the sheep in Ireland. Because there is so much pasture and an abundance of water, sheep are allowed to roam freely. It is not unusual to be traveling on a road and as you follow the bend in the road, there before you is a flock of sheep grazing on the side of the road.

In Palestine, it is quite different. Most flocks of sheep would number under 50; because of the desert area and dry conditions and the danger from thieves and predatory animals, the shepherd has to safeguard his sheep at night. A shepherd would bring his sheep back to a safe location at night. There he would have built up a safe boundary with stones that the sheep are then herded into. It might be 2 and ½ feet tall and be open at one end. The shepherd would then position himself at the mouth of the opening and sleep there, keeping the sheep safe.

So think about this place as being the sheepfold. It is here that Jesus gathers us together and wants us to be with one another. We enter this Church through the gate that is our baptismal font. It is here that we are ushered together to be nourished; to have the shepherd spend time among us, calming us and caring for the hurts that we may have experienced. Time spent here allows us to focus on who Jesus is, on what it means to call Jesus as Lord and Savior, where we can reflect on the meaning of Jesus’ death and resurrection. This is meant to be our place of rest and refreshment. Here is where we absorb the beliefs that are the core of life in Christ. Here is where the work of becoming a disciple is happening, where our Christian values are formed and where Christian character building happens.

As helpful as this setting and experience may be, we cannot stay in the gated community for long. Like the sheep, we also must go out to the pasture, to where life takes us. That place can be hazardous and fraught with dangers. That may be the reason for the other image of the Good Shepherd. We cannot live our lives as isolated Christians, but must go forth to proclaim the Good News.

There is the need for this balance in our spiritual lives. We need to have places where we can find our God; and where our God can find us in a setting that allows nourishment and refreshment, reflection and absorption. But we also are disciples whose lives are not meant to find peace and quiet alone, but ways to serve and to fulfill responsibility.

This week our Holy Father will visit the United States for the first time as Pope. It will be a historic journey as Pope Benedict challenges us to let the light of Christ, the light of this Easter Candle, shine forth in this society. We are called to use the strength that comes from the blessings that are ours to find ways to respect the growing diversity within our land while also serving the poor at home and in the larger world.

 

 

Monsignor Krieg
St. Louis Church


 THIRD SUNDAY OF EASTER

Acts 2: 14, 22-33 1 Pet 1: 17-21 Lk 24: 13-35

It’s not an easy thing to be comfortable with the reality of resurrection. It is easy enough to speculate on what it would be like to return from the dead, but it is quite another thing to comprehend the actual fact of Jesus’ resurrection – to see it as the first disciples became aware of it.

We can get some insight from the two in today’s gospel on the road to Emmaus. They are two obviously upset people lost in their mutual complaining – so lost, in fact, that they didn’t even sense the presence of Jesus walking alongside them. It was Jesus who broke into their conversation: "What are you discussing as you walk along?"

Their reaction shows us how deep was their sadness, confusion and disappointment. With hurt in his remark Cleopas replies: "Are you the only visitor to Jerusalem who does not know of the things that have taken place there in these days?" All the world should know their pain. Jesus compassionately draws them out of their distress as He replies simply, “What things?”

And then the story comes tumbling out: "The things”, they blurt out, “that happened to Jesus the Nazorean, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, how our chief priests and rulers both handed him over to a sentence of death and crucified him. But we were hoping that he would be the one to redeem Israel; and besides all this, it is now the third day since this took place.”

They even knew of the Resurrection: “Some women from our group, however, have astounded us: they were at the tomb early in the morning and did not find his body; they came back and reported that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who announced that he was alive. Then some of those with us went to the tomb and found things just as the women had described, but him they did not see."

Can we, this Easter time and in this time of our life, identify with those disciples? Do we, like them, have the facts, and still fail to comprehend the fact. We have heard the story of Easter over and over, but have we heard the reality of resurrection that has changed our lives? Have we, like those early disciples, lost our sense of where Jesus belongs in our life and in the life of the world in which we live? No less for us than for them does He constantly accompany us on our journey through life. That quiet companion must be allowed to break into our preoccupation, share our concerns, and then put Himself into context to bring home the fact of resurrection in all its implications.

The ultimate moment of recognition at Emmaus came as Jesus sat with the disciples at dinner, broke bread and gave it to them. They came to recognize Him, as the Scripture says, “in the breaking of the bread”, the phrase regularly used in the early Church to name the Eucharist. As for these Emmaus disciples we encounter Christ in the Eucharist. This Eucharist is our journey to Emmaus. In broken bread the reality of Christ’s death is made present, and it is only in our sharing in Christ’s suffering and death that we can receive Him risen from the dead as He comes to us in Eucharist. It is in the breaking of bread that we too can recognize the Risen One.

Before we receive Him in Holy Communion we must first strive to realize, along with the disciples of Emmaus, that He comes to us as one who has suffered death and has risen from the dead. We too must undergo death and resurrection. As we receive Him, we must offer Him lives that accept whatever suffering comes into our life – lives that are dedicated to ministering to Him present in others, ministering out of our own brokenness and complete dedication to Him.

With each appearance of the Risen Savior, there is the consequent necessity for those who have seen Him to proclaim that He has risen. The disciples rush back from Emmaus to share their experience with their brothers in the upper room in Jerusalem. Even before they can let their Jerusalem companions hear their good news, they are met with reports that Jesus has risen and appeared to Simon. The news of Resurrection had come to them in Jerusalem through Mary Magdalen and her companions.

We really have no choice but to be modern day disciples of Resurrection. Like Mary Magdalene, the disciples on the Emmaus road and in Jerusalem’s Upper Room, we must allow Jesus to come into our lives and reveal the fact of Resurrection. Like those early witnesses we must us put Him into context in our lives and proclaim the Risen One to a world lost in its own confusion and pain. The precise historical location of Emmaus has never been exactly determined. There are three possible. It is easy to imagine that the journey of our lives is the journey to Emmaus, and Emmaus is here in this Eucharist we celebrate today.

 

Father Kevin Murphy
Pastor, St. Louis Church


 EASTER

There is perhaps no more moving ritual during Holy Week than the Veneration of the Cross on Good Friday. Following the reading of the Passion of JC, the cross is carried into Church to stand before us. We are invited to come forward one by one to kiss, to touch, to embrace the cross on which hung Our Savior, Jesus Christ. This is a very moving testimony of faith. On Friday I imagined that people were bringing their own suffering and pain and the struggles of our world to the cross of Jesus Christ. We add to that cross, the pain and suffering of our own journey today. It struck me how we were doing what St. Paul said was needed: to make up for what is lacking in the suffering of Christ.

As we gather on this Easter Sunday, we pray in the shadow of that Cross of Christ, yesterday and today, here and beyond. The cross draws to itself the present day suffering of the Body of Christ.

Good Friday is not the end of the journey of faith for Christ or for us. While it is a station along the way, there is more to tell and to experience. We come to Easter with assurance of life and hope. As we have just heard: “He is Risen, he is not here.” Amid all the fear of this short Gospel, there is Good News. “Fear” is mentioned 4 times in these 10 verses. St. Matthew tells this story with similar cosmic happenings that set off the birth of Jesus. There is an earthquake here, at the birth, a star; here an angel whose clothes are dazzling white, then angels singing in the night sky to shepherds. These auxiliary events tell us this is not an ordinary happening; God alone is responsible for this wonder.
The wonder here is Jesus who has died and been buried is not held by death, but is free and transformed to New Life! Christ is Risen! This is the fulfillment of the promise that destroys even death. The early Christians taught their children this mystery of faith with the simple change of the caterpillar into its cocoon and then into the beauty of the butterfly. They saw in this wonder of nature a reflection of the journey of Christ through Good Friday and the burial of Saturday into the Resurrected Life of Easter. And it is our journey and that of all who follow the way of the Lord. It is what we celebrate about the Lord…and about ourselves today. For we too have new life in the Life of Christ.

But we might ask what difference does Easter make? Will the world be different tomorrow? Will there be less hunger and loneliness, will the fear that grips so many be lessened, will the divisions because of race or creed or sex be changed because Christians have seen a new vision of life because of this Easter?

Will your children be different and more accepting; will you have a new attitude about life and its struggles; will the work and school environment be improved; will our relationships be more wholesome because of this Easter?

What then is Easter about? Perhaps some of us will be changed slightly, but I don’t think very much around us will change. There is a passage from the Prophet Isaiah, about 600 years before Christ. At that time the people have just been sent back to their homeland to rebuild their lives and the city of Jerusalem. They are a displaced and broken people. They faced a monumental task, but in the face of it, God says: “I am creating a new heaven and a new earth, and Jerusalem shall rejoice and my people will be a joy.” Easter is like that! God is working in the midst of the turmoil of life. Easter is to strength our hope amidst all that happens in life. The world doesn’t stop to let Easter happen. But Easter is meant to give us a glimpse into the wonder that God is doing within the world. Easter, then, gives us a piece of the mosaic of God’s creative love, as it were, a hope piece that is meant to strengthen and sustain us. It is not meant to make us think that the struggles and day-to-day efforts at building peace and understanding are not necessary, but to know God is at work here. We are being transformed by faith even now with the new life of Christ.
Sing #762, verses 3&4.

Finally, I began this homily with the cross of Jesus Christ. I would like to end with another cross today. As I said this cross over us is to remind us to bring the sufferings of life, our own and our world’s to this place of prayer and join them with the cross of Christ. As we go forth from this assembly, the Cross of Christ that is on the front of the Church building sends us forth. That cross is the Risen Christ and it sends us to carry the Good News to where we live, where we go to school, where we work and into the whole world. We come and place our burdens on the cross of Christ; we go forth, with the Good News of Life and Joy that breaks into our world.

 

 

Father Kevin Murphy
Pastor, St. Louis Church


 EASTER VIGIL MASS

Tonight is a holy night, a special night, a night of prayer and peace, of Life and Love. It is the Dawn of a new day and a new era. For we celebrate the Lord is Risen, Christ is alive and we share in that new life!

Happy Easter!

Our liturgy, a bit longer than the normal liturgy, is like a walk down the pathway of Salvation History. For we vicariously journey from the beginning of creation through the forming of a people, to the tomb whose inhabitant is not there and is set free.

On this journey we experience the Hand of God, his loving presence and creative power. In the beginning God spoke and it all came into being. It is such a Wonder to acknowledge creation and its beauty, to see its goodness.

Then we experience the deliverance from slavery that the Hand of God works in Egypt. The people are freed and promised a new beginning. The people take from this saving act, a meal that will remind them that their God is close and truly with then in the struggles of life. And the Jewish people continue that special meal to remember that Yahweh is with them even today.

Then the Hand of God will care for the needs of God’s people, from food and water, to comfort and presence. God enriches those whom he has breathed life into.

Then as time passes over from that before Christ to that after, God again finds a way to give life, this time more than human existence, but a share in eternal and divine life. We have been baptized into the life that Christ gives and so we are made a part of our God’s life.

Finally, Matthew tells us that a new day is dawning as the Good News is shared and then spread: ‘He is not here, he is Risen!’ The Hand and power of God is at work here in raising from death to Life.

The cycle of creation has come 360. What began with the breath of God now is made new in the Wonder of this morning when the women come to the tomb. Christ indeed is the new Creation! Fear is dispelled and replaced with Joy.

Tonight the Hand of God continues to work in our midst as 4 adults have chosen to make a profession of faith within our community. These Elect, Dean Brown, Astrid Siefert, Lisa Powers and Gene Stenzel, have anticipated their reborn life in Christ. They have journeyed this past year in getting to know themselves, in searching their own hearts, in listening to the promptings of the Holy Spirit, in being guided by the members of the RCIA team and have come here tonight.

In a few minutes, each of them with make a Profession of Faith and soon after that will be anointed with the Chrism blessed by Bishop Clark last Tuesday night. That Chrism will signify that they are marked out for the Good News of Jesus Christ. They will be that Good News as they live each day and they will do that Good News as they mingle and interact with others. They will go out from this assembly aware that the cross of Christ has been marked on their heads and in their lives.

That Chrism will be marked on them with the sign of the cross on their foreheads. That Cross is a constant reminder to them and to each of us of the gift of our God. It stands before us and we pray in its shadow. We are to bring to that cross the sufferings and struggles of our lives and of our world.

They are sent forth under the cross that stands on the front of the Church building. The Cross of the Risen Christ, reminding them and us that we go forth to proclaim the Good News that even death has been overcome and we live in the New Life of Christ. Alleluia! He is Risen!

 

 

Monsignor Krieg
St. Louis Church


 HOLY THURSDAY

Ex 12, 1-8 1Cor 11, 23-26 Jo 13, 1-15, 34

It’s a truism to say we live in an era of technology. By computer or the public media we are instantly in touch with historical moments. We watched the bombs and rockets descend on Baghdad and will probably never forget seeing the plane strike the second tower of the Trade Center. As we watched our TV screens in disbelief and horror, as a nation we began to suffer depression. Interestingly, as a nation, we began also to be in touch with one another in a far more profound way. We shared grief, and heroes were born as they rushed to each other’s assistance.

In quite another way the liturgy this evening brings us into instant touch with a moment of history, and the connection is far more personal and immediate. It brings us not depression but great peace. What is more, we are linked not only with that moment in the Upper Room in Jerusalem, but we are able to reach out to touch and be touched by the eternal compassionate love of the Son of God. With Him and through Him, we are able to be in immediate touch with one another.

On a hushed Spring evening in Jerusalem our Lord is eating the Paschal Meal with His disciples. “With desire”, he said, “I have desired to eat this meal with you”. He and His disciples celebrate the Chosen People’s liberation from Egypt: God’s compassionate love for His alienated people. But now, on this particular evening, all is changed. At this celebration with His disciples, Jesus himself becomes the Paschal Lamb of the Exodus account, and we are enabled to celebrate the compassion of God which begins the liberation of all peoples from the slavery of sin and death.

Paul, in this evening’s epistle, takes us more deeply into the reality of that moment in history. He describes Jesus’ gift of His body and blood as He assumes the role of the Paschal Lamb. As He commits to us the Eucharist, Jesus tells us to continue this mystery as we remember Him. “Do this in memory of me.” Paul now reminds us: “Every time, then, you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes.” This evening we come to remember and to proclaim the death of the Lord.

But there is more. John’s gospel from which we read this evening was written the last of the four gospel accounts, and even after Paul’s account in tonight’s epistle to the Corinthians. John is well acquainted with the mystery of Christ’s gift in Eucharist, but now he brings us to an even more profound dimension of the Eucharistic mystery.

As we heard in the gospel account: “Jesus – fully aware that he had come from God and was going to God, the Father who had handed everything over to him – rose from the meal and took off his cloak. He picked up a towel and tied it around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet…”

Jesus, their Teacher and Lord, fully aware that he had come from God and was returning to His Father, kneels before each of them and washes their feet. “You shall never wash my feet.” Peter exclaims. “If I do not wash you,” Jesus answers, “you will have no share in my heritage.” And Peter, who is not about to be separated from His master, blurts out: “Lord, then not only my feet, but my hands and head as well.”

It was essential that Peter allow the Lord to wash his feet. Peter must first experience the overwhelming compassion of the Son of God who stoops to wash his feet. He must be able to see that overwhelming love as Jesus goes to his death the next day. He must accept that compassionate love with open arms before he can begin to live - before he can begin to follow - the Lord’s example and wash his companions’ feet.

“Let me wash your feet”, Jesus says to us. “Accept my love so that you may know how precious you are to me. Let me wash your feet so that you may see the love of which you are capable in me, the love that will motivate you always to care for one another.” Remember that Judas was there to have his feet washed, and the compassionate love of Jesus reached out to touch him. Judas, however, remained fixed in his own agenda, and never responded to that compassionate touch of Christ.

We are to wash the feet even of those who would betray us just as Jesus washed the feet of the one who betrayed Him. We are to bring the compassion of God to our world even when that world is too blind to sense that love or refuses to accept it or, following its own agenda, betrays us. Unless we have let Jesus wash our feet, unless we have sensed deeply His compassionate love for us, we will never be able to follow His example and reach out to friend and enemy and do as Jesus did.

It is so easy to say we must wash each other’s feet as Jesus did. It is really not too difficult to offer an act of kindness. But more significantly, it must become our natural mode of behavior. It must be simply the way we live. It is of immense importance that we realize that we can follow His command only after we have experienced His love. We must first have known his love for us; we must first have experienced His compassionate touch, before we can really wash each other’s feet.

With infinite compassion Jesus is saying to us in this Holy Thursday liturgy: “Let me wash your feet; as I have done so you must do.” In Eucharist we become one with our Lord, and, in and through Him, share His love.

“But if I washed your feet – I who am Teacher and Lord –
Then you must wash each other’s feet.
What I just did was to give you an example:
As I have done, so you must do.”

 

 

Monsignor Krieg
St. Louis Church


FIFTH SUNDAY IN LENT

Ez 37: 12-14 Ro 8: 8-11 Jo 11: 1-45

The village of Bethany is just over the crest of the Mount of Olives - as the scriptures say, about two miles from Jerusalem. The air is tense with political feelings running high because of the authorities’ opposition to Jesus. In the midst of this tension, word comes from Mary and Martha in Bethany that their brother is seriously ill. For Jesus to respond to their call puts Him in no little danger, but, in spite of all tension and danger, Jesus goes to those who call and raises His friend Lazarus to life.

Strategically placed in these Sundays of Lent, Lazarus’ resurrection is a foreshadowing of Jesus’ own resurrection. As Jesus prays to His Father, He asks that Lazarus’ resurrection be a sign to occasion belief for His apostles and for all who are present.

Belief in the resurrection of Jesus is the linchpin of our faith. As St. Paul reminds us in today’s epistle to the Corinthians: If Jesus is not risen from the dead, all faith is useless. We are still in our sins, Paul says, “and what is more serious, all who have died in Christ have perished.” Central, then, to living the life of a Christian is the firm belief in Christ’s resurrection and in our own.

Confronted as we are by death in countless ways (e.g. scorched earth of Darfur, the senseless suicide bombings, a diagnosis of terminal illness, death of a loved one, closing of a school), what is our reaction as a follower of Christ? What is the underlying presumption with which we approach the various expressions of death in our own lives? Have we made ourselves aware of resurrection in our maintaining a relationship with the God who promises eternal life, the God who sends us His Son to free us from the effects of our own too often willful rejection of Him in our daily lives.

In the face of all the expressions of death in today’s world, our reaction can be shallow and faithless; we can remain in a state of real indifference, not infrequently, blaming God for the evils that beset us and the world around us. From a very practical point of view, a profound faith in the resurrection is the basis for great peace and a stability which is a wonderful coping mechanism for whatever assails our lives. On the opposite side, lack of such faith leaves us isolated, complaining, becoming part or even a cause of the item of which we complain. Not infrequently we are simply frozen in inactivity, unable to make a positive move in our lives.

Missionaries of resurrection, we become people of hope. In that hope we can be motivated to seek the practical means to confront the ills that plague us whether as individuals or as a society. Assured of resurrection, we are free to pursue those things which truly prepare humankind for life. With practical assurance we can attempt to deal with the frightful problems of poverty and hunger, of terror and war. We need never be frustrated to take the steps for success even in the midst of overwhelming pain or political corruption.

It is so important that we see Jesus’ raising of Lazarus in the context of His own extreme danger, within days of His own death and resurrection. The journey of Lent will bring us into the footsteps of Jesus as He makes His way to Calvary, the tomb and resurrection. We are being called to follow Him to death and resurrection.

If death confronts us in countless ways in our modern society, have we the faith and courage to offset this awareness of death with a profound realization of resurrection? That conviction can and must become the foundation of a practical Christian charity. It is an awareness that can prompt a world to find ways for wealthy nations to assist the less fortunate, to motivate peoples to put their energies into ways that lead to peace and not to war.

If we are called to pursue more deeply the power of faith in resurrection, it follows that such faith can actually provide support for economies that call all citizens to find structures of government to prevent poverty, hunger and homelessness. Ezekiel’s prophecy is timeless and should stir us today: “I will open your graves and have you rise from them. .. I will put my spirit in you that you may live.” Resurrection is not simply something we hope for to bring us to eternal life; it is something upon which to build our world. It is our hope for now as well as for eternity. May we enjoy it, and live as if we really believed it. “I have promised, and I will do it, says the LORD.”

 

 

Father Kevin Murphy
Pastor, St. Louis Church


FOURTH SUNDAY IN LENT

For a number of years, I served on the Board of the Mary Cariola Children’s Center. One of the things that I walked away with was a realization that we are all disabled or handicapped in some way; some forms are more visible and easier to see than others. But we all live with some disability.

This week’s Gospel confirms that lesson. For it is about people who are blind---one who cannot see physically, but others who will not see.

The beggar gains not only his ability to see and experience life in a new and wonderful way. He also gains spiritual insight that others in the Gospel do not have. The Gospel starts off asking if sin had caused the physical blindness of this person and ends up with the reality that sin has caused the spiritual blindness of the Pharisees. There are none so blind as those who will not see!

The movement of the man born blind is a movement to faith and to belief in Jesus as the Son of Man who is to be worshipped. He moves from not being able to see any light until Jesus, the light of the world, covers his eyes with mud and sends him to wash. He washes in this water and sees! Then in the encounter with the neighbors and religious leaders, his faith deepens. He sees Jesus as more than a miracle worker, but as a prophet, and then one ‘from God’ and finally when Jesus searches him out as the Son of Man whom he worshiped.

In the midst of this Lenten season this story is meant to remind us of our journey. Our faith is meant to move from where it is to a deeper place and a fuller expression of who Jesus is for us. We grope for faith in the midst of adversities and Jesus comes to find us. This is our work during Lent---to be open to Jesus who comes to us and helps us see, brings us to deeper faith. All this so we can worship God with renewed fervor.

We are to be aware that while we might want to identify with the man born blind, we may be closer to the Pharisees. Have we allowed our hearts to become harden and to become stagnant in our faith? Do we recognize that there is more for us to receive in this journey of faith?

It is so easy to think that we are the ‘good ones’ in the Gospel stories. However, we may be so self-assured that we no longer hear the challenge or the call of the Gospel. When was the last time we were inconvenienced because of the call to serve the poor, when have we had to consciously make a sacrifice for the love of someone else? When have we placed someone else before ourselves in traffic or in a grocery line or in the demands of home life? Do we see with physical sight or with the eyes of faith?

This week I invite you to begin each day asking the Lord to help you see more than what you normally see. Look deeper; see if you can see Jesus in your life.

 

 

Father Al Delmonte
St. Louis Church


FIRST SUNDAY IN LENT

Do you know anyone, is there anyone in your life whose attention you can only get by using a 2x4 right across his/her head? Just doesn’t listen? Doesn’t get it? Maybe you’re like that. Maybe I am.

The readings for this 1st Sunday of Lent are saying as much, “Hey, wake up! Life is going on here! This is important!”

Today is meant as a warning and a reminder – a warning against giving in to temptation and a reminder that Jesus is the one to follow in everything. The Liturgy gives us Lent to shake us from our winter slumber. With Xmas decorations barely put away, we’re geared up for 40 days of repentance, reflection and fasting. Just an aside of useless information: the last time Lent arrived this early was 1913. Next year Easter is April 12th. Easter will not be celebrated as early as March 23rd again until the year 2160. But I digress.

Living life as we do, we tend to get too comfortable w/ ourselves. We tend to forget that we are sinners in need of God’s mercy. Lent is NOT about convincing God to forgive our sins. God is always ready and willing to do that. Lent is about re-focusing our journey which began at Baptism.

On the day you were baptized, the priest/deacon said to your parents and godparents: “See that the divine life which God gives this child today is kept safe from the poison of sin, to grow always stronger in his/her heart.” That divine life he was talking about is the life of grace given us freely in Christ Jesus. But what has happened on our journey since then, since the day of your baptism? Why, pretty much the same thing that happened in the Garden of Eden. That first rdg describes in Eden what STILL takes place in our lives: the temptation to turn toward self. In the Garden of Eden, all is good and sufficient for life, but humankind wanted more – for the SELF. And the consequences of sin are immediate and devastating: guilt, vulnerability, self-protection, self-consciousness, NOT self-fulfillment but self-destruction.

To appreciate Lent we need to restore the notion of sin. To understand FORGIVENESS we need an idea of sin. We are all influenced by the spirit of the world we live in which would rather speak of FAILURE, MISTAKES, MISJUDGMENTS, WEAKNESS and MISUNDERSTANDING. Our world would, at most, what the Bible calls sin as some failure against our self-esteem. Sin means we recognize that we have failed to do what God asks of us, THAT RELATIONS W/ GOD AND W/ EACH OTHER ARE NOT WHAT THEY SHOULD BE. Relations w/ God and w/ each other are not what they should be when there is child abuse, spousal abuse; not what they should be when there is sexual exploitation and exploitation of the poor. Relations w/ God and w/ each other are not what they should be when there is so much dishonesty in just about every walk of life.
In Matthew’s gospel the temptation to self continues: the devil says to Jesus, “Take care of yourself, turn stones into bread . . . draw attention to yourself, throw yourself down . . . glorify self: all these things will I bestow on you.” But Jesus turns the focus back from self to God.

Lent is about rediscovering God and uncovering ourselves before God by setting aside the fig leaves we’ve been hiding behind. We are Adam, we are Eve – we try to protect ourselves from the reality of sin in our lives. What fig leaves are you hiding behind in your life, or I in mine? What are those things we must change or surrender in order to be clothed again w/ the white garment of renewed baptismal grace at Easter? Perhaps it is an inordinate pride that keeps us hiding from God or an unwillingness to depend on God in all things. Perhaps it is a failure to pray as we should, to think before we speak or to leave UNSAID those words that hurt more than physical blows.

The gospel is the 2x4 across our heads. It’s significant that Jesus temptations took place in the desert. The desert is special. It is not tranquil lakes or flowing rivers or beautiful mountains. The desert is bleak, broken, dry land. There you face yourself without distractions, stripped of illusion and high-tech gadgets.

We need a desert fast this Lent, a stripping down to simple basics, ridding ourselves of all the things that block the voice of God. The message this 1st Sunday of Lent is personal and private, between you and God. God whispers, “It’s time to get serious about me.” There are no social commentaries here, no political axes to grind, no dogmas to expound. God is saying you are wanted, desired, invited.

The Lenten journey is always worth taking. Today we’re taking our first steps along the road. Pay attention to the warning sights and sounds; the 2x4 is meant for you and me.

 

 

Deacon John Payne
St. Louis Church


THIRD SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME

It has been 14 months since I started volunteering for Pittsford Ambulance. One of the statements that I hear from many patients, especially as we are in the hospital triage line, is, “Well, I certainly didn’t expect to be here today.” I always answer, “I hear yah,” but I am also saying to myself, “Me too. I didn’t expect to be here today either.” What I am trying to say is that the reality of today being an EMT certainly doesn’t match my expectations when I signed up as a volunteer fourteen months ago. I remember worrying about the commitment and the responsibilities. They said I only had to “work” twelve hours a month which means I should only have 168 hours invested. (Right!) I just exceeded 1,000 hours this month, which doesn’t include the hours I spend off the clock, going to school, studying, training, rewriting manuals, doing accounting work, attending board meetings, making store runs, and just being friends with my peers. I feel like the woman who has a van full of kids that she is taking on a school field trip. She is stopped by a policeman for coasting through a stop sign. He asks her, “Hey lady don’t you know how to stop?” She retorts, “What makes you think that they’re all mine?” I believe that we all can think of times when reality exceeds our expectation, that I am not unique in this experience. We can all say that I certainly didn’t expect to be here today.
Today’s readings are all about life’s expectations, about the expectation of being a disciple, and of being surprised about the reality of the kingdom of heaven. We hear two strong statements echoed in the readings today, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” and “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.” These statements are echoed in the 1st reading to the people of “Galilee of the Gentiles, the people who sit in darkness, (who) have seen a great light, who dwell in a land overshadowed by death, and yet to these, they are promised new life. And in the 2nd reading, these statements are echoed to the people of the Church of Corinth, who were dividing themselves into factions, and Paul was reminding them to repent, “that all of you (should) agree in what you say, and that there (should) be no divisions among you, but that you (should) be united in the same mind and in the same purpose.” It’s pretty simple, for us to be disciples, we must first repent.
Please don’t tune me out right here, don’t let me lose you! Repent does not mean feeling sorrow and remorse for doing something wrong. “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand,” is the core of the gospel message. The word repent and repentance occur no less than 50 times in the New Testament. Repentance is the condition for following Jesus. That the kingdom of heaven is at hand demands a change in our way of life, for us who believe in it. Repent actually means to radically re-orient one’s life. So if one was going north, then repent and go south. That is how radical the reorientation must be! I certainly didn’t expect to be here today.
In the gospel we hear the invitation of Christ to Peter and Andrew and to James and John, “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.” These men were radical in their response, they got up immediately, left everything that they did, and followed Jesus. I have to think, by the time the disciples had experienced the full reality of Christ, after his death and resurrection, that they too, had to say, I certainly didn’t expect to be here today.
And who were these men? They didn’t need a job; they weren’t looking for a change of occupation, and certainly, they weren’t looking for Jesus. They weren’t scholars with PhD’s and MBA’s. They weren’t royalty, nor were they distinguished in society -- they were just fishermen. We wonder: Why would Christ choose such unlikely friends? Didn’t Jesus know they would cast doubts on him, that they would hinder his mission? People back then wondered the same thing, so they asked him “Why do you eat with sinners?” We have no reason to doubt his response: “They need me, the same way that sick people need a doctor.” No doubt. But doctors don’t eat with their patients; in fact, before doctors even touch their patients, they slip on special gloves. I know that feeling. I hate wearing gloves – even though I must.
Such were the disciples of Jesus – not so unlike us. And let me be clear: Jesus deeply loved them. He wasn’t “stuck” with them — he personally chose them, one at a time, by name. Jesus loves us too – He calls us by name to be his disciples. And as such, we are called to repent — to change the way that we are living. But sometimes we lose focus. So as the Church of St. Louis, aren’t we sometimes divided over liturgical styles, scriptural or theological positions, or forms of devotions and practice? As the people of the Church of Rochester, aren’t we now divided over the value of Catholic education for our children? As children of God, do we not sometimes feel unworthy because we are sinners, because we didn’t expect to be here today, in a relationship with a God who has called us by name, who has chosen us, who loves us for us, regardless…
My life as a disciple is filled with wonder and awe. The reality of my life has far exceeded my expectations. I am filled with wonder as an EMT, as I assist those who are physically hurt and sometimes dying. I am filled with wonder as a husband, who is in awe of a woman who is my wife of almost 34 years — who said “I do.” I am filled with wonder as a dad, having been blest with five children, who aren’t without fault, but who I love, and who love me. And I am filled with wonder as a deacon, who is privileged to baptize, and preach, and marry, and counsel, and listen — and serve. I wonder… I certainly didn’t expect to be here today. But why not? Why shouldn’t I be here today? Don’t I have a God who sacrificed His only Son, so that I could be here today, as an EMT, as a husband, as a father, and as a deacon. Jesus loves me. He calls me by name, as he calls each one of us. God loves us for us, regardless…
It is now the time. It is time, to “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” We are called to radically re-orient our lives, to “come after me”, to follow Jesus.
We are each called to live in the expectation that we are exactly where we should be — in the kingdom of heaven — in the light of the Son — in the light of the S-O-N.

 

 

Monsignor Krieg
St. Louis Church


SECOND SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME

Is 49: 3, 5-6    I Cor 1: 1-3    Jo 1: 29-34

The vestments are now green, and we call this period of the liturgical year: Ordinary Time. It’s the liturgical tie that brings the wonderful mystery of the Incarnation into our daily lives. There is nothing ordinary, however, about this period we call Ordinary Time. The name comes from the same Latin word, “ordo” which means order or progression. (We are reminded of ordinal and cardinal numbers: first, second, third and one, two, three.) There is a progress through these weeks of Ordinary Time in which we gradually deepen our awareness of the mystery we have celebrated: the Incarnation, the enfleshment of the Son of God, born of Mary at Bethlehem.

The First Sunday of Ordinary Time was actually last week’s feast of the Baptism of the Lord, which is how we find ourselves today on the Second Sunday of Ordinary Time. But what does this second week bring us in the deepening of our awareness of the mystery of the Incarnation? What is it that this Time has to offer us?

If we listen carefully to the readings, we are being offered more profound and varied insights into the presence of the Incarnate Son of God in this mystery we call church. Once again we are being reminded that the Church is, in fact, the extension of the mystery of Incarnation: Jesus becomes enfleshed in those who believe in Him. We are reminded that Church is not primarily organization. It is the living reality of Jesus in His mystical body.

As Isaiah had been a companion throughout Advent, so he returns to us following Christmas and reminds us that the Child so longed for in ancient times is inseparably linked with us as Jesus is made “a light to the nations, that (God’s) my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.” We are the product of those gentile nations to whom that light has been brought. It is for us that Jesus has come so that He might transform us and our ordinary daily lives.

Saint Paul reminds the people of Corinth and ourselves that he is speaking to us “who have been sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be holy, with all those everywhere who call upon the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, their Lord and ours.” We need to remind ourselves constantly that, by the grace of God, we have been called to life with Him, to union with Him in this Eucharist. We are present at this Eucharist, as we are at any Eucharist, at His invitation and at the cost of His very life. His body and blood have become our food.

As we are able to join the people of Corinth in our awareness of the Lord’s invitation, so we can join the disciples of John the Baptist to hear John say: "Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.” At this Eucharist we will hear those words repeated by the priest as we are invited to feed on Christ’s body and drink His blood.

Present at this Eucharist - as soon we hear the inviting declaration of Christ’s presence for us, it is so important that the mystery of Christ’s incarnation take root in our consciousness and in every aspect of our daily life. This is the reason for His birth among us, His birth among all of humankind. In that presence our daily lives are to be transformed; He must become the motivation for our everyday living, the basis for our relationship with family and friends, with strangers and even with enemies.

The values He instills into us become the basis for our respect for human life in every individual. In these days when the value of human life is so compromised in war and terror, in abortion and domestic violence, we must offer the antidote in a way of life that brings the love of Christ to everyone. It’s a commitment that is anything but Pollyannaish or wishy-washy; it is a way of life that calls for generosity that has no limits. In some circumstances it can even cost us our life.

We live our Christian life not simply within the structure of the institutional church, but within the reality of the mystery of church, the mystery of His Body, the mystery of the People of God. Life cannot help but deepen in enjoyment and understanding as we allow these days of Ordinary Time to let the mystery of Incarnation and Church penetrate every moment of daily life.

We have now begun Ordinary Time and can anticipate weeks of increasing awareness as we bring ourselves back week after week to be with the Son of God who has become one of us and reminds us that we must find one another in Him and to find Him in one another. This is the basic meaning of liturgy (the work of the people); this is our work, our allowing Him to be present among us. It’s a thrilling thing this Ordinary Time; it’s our daily life; it is Jesus’ life among us in Word and Sacrament, in every aspect of daily life. Enjoy it! Live it!

 

Father Kevin Murphy
Pastor, St. Louis Church


Feast of the Epiphany

The other evening, as Mike Huckabee and Barack Obama were enjoying their victory in the Iowa caucuses, I could not help but relate their speeches to the reading we heard today from Isaiah.

Both politicians spoke in hopeful terms of the future they saw for our country to bring people together and to try to form a new way of working together as a nation. I suppose when you put the amount of effort that they put in and you have a sense of approval, you see more possibilities are within reach.

For Isaiah, the Babylonian exile had decimated the nation; their youth had been enslaved and taken to Baylon; all that were left in Jerusalem were the sick and the elderly; the city of Jerusalem had been leveled to a stone heap; there was not much left to believe or hope in. However, this section of the prophet’s book is the dawn of a new era. It is a time of hope and anticipation when the rebirth will have other nations of the world coming to Jerusalem and the nation will be re-born. It was a period of promise when the Messiah would bring new beginnings.

The Feast of the Epiphany is that kind of a celebration: a time of hope and new beginnings. It reminds us that the Light of Christ has come not to shine on just the town of Bethlehem, but is a light that is spread beyond the borders of Israel. That is the message that Matthew is sending in the story of the Magi coming from the East, beyond the borders of Israel. He is the only Gospel writer who tells this story. This story is complimented by what Matthew reports at the end of the Gospel: “Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit; teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.”

At the beginning of the Gospel of Matthew, the gentiles come to find the new born King of the Jews and at the end of the Gospel, that same King sends his disciples out to spread the Good News to the gentiles. It is as if the Gospel message of Jesus is sandwiched between these two passages: the coming of the magi and the sending of the disciples to the gentiles to spread the Good News.

How vital is this message for us today. The human tendency is to draw lines, to set boundaries, to limit the horizon. This feast reminds us that we are all searching, looking for something and someone just beyond our reach. We are meant to follow the star that will bring us to new life.

My point is that we are challenged to follow the Light of Christ in a world that offers lots of lights. It is not a simple matter to find the light of Christ among all the other challenging lights. But isn’t this what the Magi had to do? They did not have the latest model of TomTom, the GPS navigational system to guide them. It was not an easy journey and at times the clouds and the night sky confused them. Yet they journeyed on. So must we.

The advantage we have is that we know their story. We know it is possible to find the Savior. We know that they saw the child, did him homage and offered him their gifts. We too are meant to see the child; and we have heard where he is found, not just in Bethlehem, but in the hungry, the homeless, the sick, the person imprisoned by fear, in the poor and even in our enemy. We are invited to show homage to the Christ child in them; and then to offer our gifts---the most basic gift being your heart, the love of your life.

Epiphany is about revelation and response. The Lord is revealed, seen and acknowledged. But it is also about the response that the Magi finally made and that you and I are invited to make. In my Christmas homily I spoke of the two births at Christmas. We all delight and enjoy recalling the birth of the Baby Jesus at Bethlehem; the other birth is more difficult, but as much a part of Christmas: the birth of Christ in our hearts.

This is the true revelation of Epiphany, not so much what happened in Bethlehem, but what happens after we leave Bethlehem with the Magi, the showing forth of Jesus in our lives today and tomorrow.

 

 

Father Kevin Murphy
Pastor, St. Louis Church


Christmas 2007

A Merry and Blessed Christmas! I speak on behalf of Frs. Ray and Al, Msgr. Gerry, Deacon John, myself and our parish staff in welcoming you here to St. Louis tonight as we celebrate Christmas for the 50th time in this Church building. It was Christmas 1957 when Fr. Reddington, then pastor, led the people of this community in the Christmas celebration for the first time in this Church. This is a special anniversary as we gather tonight.

I wonder if my feelings around Christmas are shared by any of you. This is such a busy time of the year and there is so much that I think needs to get done by me that I in some way look forward to its being over. There are so many traditions and ways of acting that we fall into at this busy time. We have certain ways of shopping or expectations around the customs of this season that we don’t like it when someone disturbs our practices. One of mine is to do all my Christmas shopping in one day: I begin early in the morning and have a real sense of what I am looking for so that by 6pm of that day, it is done! And I might add, I am done too!

There is a sameness to Christmas that makes it easy to drift through. We know the story and have an expectation of the activity so that it is somewhat manageable. It is over before we know it and outside of any gift exchanges and bills to be paid, life can get back to normal.

Why is he so pessimistic you might be saying? This past week I spent some time with the 6th graders in the Catholic school. I told them that I thought Christmas was like an upside down pineapple cake. The first problem was that I had to explain to them what an upside down pineapple cake was. When you bake such a cake, the good stuff is on the bottom and you have to get through the cake itself before you get to the good stuff. The second problem was that they did not really appreciate what I was trying to say. I hope you do better.

I think this image can help us because we often don’t get to the real substance of Christmas. We spend all our time in the batter and never get to the real fruit of Christmas. You see we get all caught up in the expectations. We do the activities of Christmas, the things associated with the birthing of Jesus in Bethlehem, but we stop short. We spend our energy on the batter and miss the pineapple, brown sugar and maraschino cherry. You see there are really two births of Christ at Christmas. There is the one that we recall from 2000 years ago, the birth that is portrayed in the crèche scene here before us. This is the easy one because you just have to come and see it again. It is almost enough to be passive about it.

The other one is within our total control, the birth of Christ in each of our hearts. This is the one that does not always happen. It is the harder of the two.

In a sense the second birth of Christ is what happened to the shepherds. They hear the message of the angels and they go and see; after they leave Bethlehem they go and tell this wonder that they have experienced. The birth of Christ was borne in their hearts and they became the messengers of the Good News.

This is the real birth of Christ that must happen within us. It is not enough for us to come and see, but tonight we must carry forth the Good News that becomes incarnate in our lives. We must live this wonder we have experienced that God has joined the human with the divine.

This is where the real message of Christmas is focused. Too often we emphasize the gift giving, making sure the gift is perfect for that special person. But do we ever ask what gift do I give to God? It is the birthday of the Lord Jesus and in all the thoughtful sharing should we not ask ourselves what we can give back and how we can give back to God? How do we honor the person whose birthday it is?

This is the message of Christmas that we too easily pass over. It is like the pineapple, the brown sugar and maraschino cherry that we never taste. This is the birth that too often does not happen. For if we took it seriously, we would have to change.

We would have to work on nourishing our life with God that too many of us do not take seriously or don’t give more than lip service to. We would have to realize that sharing the blessings of our time and talent with others less blessed in our society is not an option, but a responsibility. We would have to realign our lives and not allow work or careers or advancement to distract us from the real matters of the heart. We would have to forgive the hurts and harm that have been done to us; we would have to work anew at the commitments of life such as marriage and priestly vows; we would have to put on a new look and a new behavior, filled with love and compassion.

This is the real birthing of this night that we should be celebrating. This is the real challenge of Christmas. This is the coming of the light of the world which will dispel war and racism and prejudice and sexism. This is the beginning of the time when the lamb will lay down with the lion, when the mantle of peace will cover nations, when this child is born in us.

If we wonder why one Christmas seems like the last, when we wonder when things will really be made new, when we wonder if there is hope for a different world, we need to ask ourselves how have we borne Christ this year.

There is much we can learn from the simple events of that first Christmas. I am sure that for Mary and Joseph, their life was changed forever as they held this new born son. This is something I hear parents say repeatedly. Life is different when that first child comes. Our life can be different in 2008 because Christ is born right here, right within everyone of us. Life will be different if we allow it to be. God doesn’t force this on anyone. We see that in the story of Mary and even Jesus when there was always the invitation to respond.

So having challenged you this evening, let me say have a Blessed Christmas and I hope this year you give birth to this child!

 

 

Monsignor Krieg
St. Louis Church


FOURTH SUNDAY OF ADVENT

Is 10: 10-14 Rom 1:1-7 Mt 1: 18-24

Do you believe in dreams? Dreaming is a part of our human nature and God has used dreams to communicate with His creatures. In Matthew’s gospel account, God uses a dream to speak to Joseph. As we just heard, Joseph responds with complete trust to the Lord’s message: “When Joseph awoke, he did as the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took his wife into his home.”

We more frequently hear the story of the Incarnation through Mary’s experience, but on this final Sunday of Advent we hear the story through the experience of Joseph.
In both the narrative of Matthew and that of Luke, there is the reality of Advent: Mary and Joseph await the arrival of the Christ Child, and each prepares for the Child’s coming in a matter of fact, unique way.

For them, the awareness of the coming birth of a child came with shocking suddenness. Under similar circumstances most of us would probably panic. Mary’s profound faith and trust in God’s love enabled her to respond with confidence and with a thoughtful concern for her cousin Elizabeth “now in her sixth month.” Once Mary gave her consent to the angel, her concern is immediately for her cousin in her pregnancy.

Joseph, “unwilling to expose her to shame, decided to divorce her quietly.” He will protect her from any popular criticism or condemnation. Like Mary, his first thought is not for his own predicament, but rather for the protection of the one whom he loves and to whom he is betrothed.

Mary sets out in haste to visit her cousin Elizabeth and brings the presence of the Christ Child into her everyday world with an act of loving concern for her pregnant cousin. Joseph immediately prepares to receive Mary as his wife and to assist her in the coming birth of her child. He accepts the legal responsibility for Mary’s child and prepares to put into place whatever is necessary for him to care for Mary and to be foster father for her child.

The birth of Christ has been announced to us; for these weeks of Advent we have been preparing for His coming. On this final Sunday we approach the hour of Jesus’ birth once again in the wonder of the liturgy. We have not been made aware of His birth through the message of an angel or through a dream, but our expectation of the Christ Child must be as focused, intense and as lovingly practical as that of Mary and Joseph.

As we arrive nearly to the Eve of Christmas, where do we stand in our awareness of the birth of the Christ? Each year we don’t simply hear the story of Christ’s birth, but we relive the reality of that birth in the wonder of the liturgy. God is once again with us; Emmanuel is born.

Ahaz, in today’s passage from the prophet Isaiah, simply refused to dream the Lord’s dream, and so the Lord offered the dream for him. God offers the dream also for us, and it is up to each of us to dream the Lord’s dream – to find Emmanuel in the midst of our daily life, in our efforts to reach out constantly to others in thoughtfulness and awareness. The world needs overwhelming encouragement and the certainty that the dream of God is great enough to provide for every dream.

As Paul wrote to the people of Rome, we are all called to apostleship, called to live Christ’s life of redeeming love. “We are called to be holy” that we may find the peace of Christ of which we sing again and again in the carols of the season. That peace isn’t simply the subject of our carols; it is a way of life we must share with our world, an antidote for the world’s loss of hope and peace.

The gospel passage began: “This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about.” In our own lives we can begin our own stories: “This is how the birth of Jesus Christ comes about.” We make our effort to live the Lord’s dream and share it with our world. With Joseph we can accept the angel’s message: “do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home. For it is through the Holy Spirit that this child has been conceived in her.” Again and again the prophecy of Isaiah is to be fulfilled in the lives of those who dream God’s dream: “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel, which means "God is with us."

Do you believe in dreams? Do you believe in the dream the Lord constantly shares with us: “Therefore the LORD himself will give you this sign: the virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall name him Emmanuel.” Christmas is hours away. Are you willing to share that dream and allow Emmanuel to come into this world today?

 

 

Deacon John Payne
St. Louis Church


Third Sunday in Advent

There is a story about a magician who worked on a cruise ship in the Caribbean. The audience was different each week, so the magician was able to do the same tricks over and over again. There was only one problem: the captain's parrot saw the shows each week, and began to understand how the magician did every trick. Once he understood, he started shouting out in the middle of the show:
"Look, it's not the same hat!" "Look, he's hiding the flowers under the table!" "Hey, why are all the cards the ace of spades?" The magician was understandably furious, but couldn't do anything about it, after all, it was the captain's parrot.

One day during his show, the ship had an accident and sank. The magician found himself on a piece of wood in the middle of the sea with, as fate would have it, the parrot. They stared at each other with hatred, but did not utter a word. This went on for the whole day, and then another. Finally on the third day, the parrot could not hold back any longer, "O.K., I give up... “Where's the ship?”
Deep in his dungeon, disillusioned by his change of fate, John the Baptist considers God’s strange providence. John is convinced that he was doing everything he was supposed to do. He answered God’s call, he was preparing the way for the Messiah. But when Jesus came, he did not act the way John had presumed and predicted that he would. Was the message or the messenger wrong? John needed to know. He deserved to know.

In the book, The Last Temptation of Christ, Jesus and John are arguing all night long about what to do with the world. John’s face is hard and decisive; from time to time his arms go up and down as though he were chopping wood, as if he is showing Jesus how to deal with the tree of evil. By contrast, the face of Jesus is calm and hesitant; his eyes are full of compassion. He asks John, “Isn’t love enough?” John angrily says, “No! The tree is rotten. God called me and gave me the ax, which I placed at the roots of the tree. I did my job; now you do yours. Take the ax and strike!” Jesus answers, “If I were fire, I would burn it; if I were a woodcutter, I would strike. But I am a heart — so I love.”

I can understand the frustration of John. How often do I try to do everything right, and then others come along and do everything wrong? I am trying to follow the rules, to follow the commandments to the best of my abilities, and others don’t even try – and sometimes they are our nation’s leaders, and company’s bosses, and even sometimes, they are our priests and deacons. Why can’t other people live up to my expectations? And I even dare to ask, “Why can’t God live up to my expectations?” In today’s Gospel, John the Baptist seems to ask, ”Why isn’t Jesus living up to my expectations? Are we stuck with him or are we to wait for someone more like what we wanted?”

The story of John’s disillusionment is ours, too. It is the story of everyone who expects a behavior that does not happen, or is disappointed with a leader who acts in a way they didn’t expect. So often, I can’t seem to figure out the trick. I always want to understand the magic. I want my way to be the way… I want that my will be done.

The truth is that I don’t need to understand the trick… that sometimes magic isn’t magic… that disillusionment is not always a bad thing. Disillusionment is, literally, the loss of an illusion… it could be the loss of an illusion about God… or about the world… or about our self. It is often painful to experience. In our disillusionment, we discover that God does not conform to our expectations. We glimpse at our own relative place in the grand cosmic scene, and when we review our divine job description, we are shocked that God has a different self-description. Why doesn’t God come when I rub the lantern? Maybe God is not a genie. Why doesn’t God punish my enemies? Maybe God is not a cop. Why doesn’t God make everything run smoothly? Maybe God is not a mechanic. /// Over and over again, it is my disappointments that draw me deeper into the mystery of God’s being and God’s actions. It seems that I always have to learn the hard way. Every time God’s actions do not meet my expectations, another of my idols is exposed; another curtain is drawn, so that I can see the puppet I have propped up in God’s place.

I guess that it is never a bad thing to lose the lies that I have mistaken for the truth. I am learning that, when I become disillusioned, it is then that I realize my humanness, it is then that I am graced with divine truth. I am still learning that Faith is not magic, and that my God is not a Magician… that everything that happens, I don’t have to have explained… that sometimes life just happens... the boat sinks. So regardless of how hard I pray, people still get sick and don’t get better… regardless of how hard I pray, rules are still broken… regardless of how hard I pray, other people, even my leaders and bosses and priests and deacons, are sinners, just like me.
So dare I suggest that we may need some more Beatitudes –

Blessed are they who do not let the minimal Messiah they want,
overshadow the majestic Messiah that we need.

Blessed are they who recognize the things that God is doing,
instead of the things that God is not doing.

Blessed are they who are not afraid to change their plans, to adjust their hopes,
to bend their will, to God’s will.

Blessed are they who trade their private illusions, for God’s saving truth.

 

 

 

Father Kevin Murphy
Pastor, St. Louis Church


FIRST Sunday in ADVENT

I want to live in the world Isaiah prophesied. I want to see the top of the Lord’s holy mountain and live in a time when natural predators a