Sunday Readings

Knowledgeable Knowing

I applied to go to Lourdes and a member of the medical committee, when he at long last met me, said, “finally a face to the name!” He was commenting that a name on an application moved from a description to a person. How many times does this happen in so many ways to all of us? We have expressions for this: ‘So THIS is John Doe! Now we can put a name with a face! Oh, YOU’RE Jane Doe!’ Human beings have a ‘recognition reflex’ that kicks in when knowledge moves from virtual to actual. And we sharply know the difference between the two.

If this true among human beings, can’t we see the same thing in our relationship with God? Or put another way, why do we grow so satisfied with only knowing about God? John the Baptist begins by calling Jesus the ‘Lamb of God’ and ends his testimony by calling Him the ‘Son of God.’ He first sees Jesus as the fulfillment of religion’s desire for forgiveness. He ends by seeing Jesus as mercy itself. To quote the first reading, ‘it is too little’ to leave Jesus as a reason for faith in God. No, some thing happened and brought John into the Presence of God Himself.

It has been said that the longest journey in the world is the 12 inches or so between the head and the heart. When it comes to faith, it is especially true. Our religion began thousands of years ago when an elderly man left his home in Iraq and began a pilgrimage that took us around the Middle East, the Roman Empire and the New World. We have the authority of all those years of theology, customs, and worship. We have countless generations behind us who have struggled to put into thoughts and words what they experienced and believed. In a few moments we will even recite one of these as we say a creed, a summary statement of faith formed long ago in a place far, far away. And we hold it true and worthy of trust.

But is the journey over? Has all that been said been said? Can we stop there and leave it at that?

Yes, Revelation is complete and authentic. But faith is not a set of truths to only be tested in a religion class. The creative Spirit of God is not confined to a catechism session. What we believe is set; that we believe is not. We know about God but God wants to be known. The Incarnation was not a donation of data; it was the gift of a Son. Faith begins with hearing but ends with adoration. There is a natural and a super-natural curiosity that fuels this journey. It is the question Jesus asked those first disciples, “What are you looking for?” They were looking for more than a theological system or more rules. Their curiosity was inspired by the goodness of God and tantalized the internal senses of people looking for that same good.

We have received the grace of God without measure. This grace brings us into a relationship with God and a deeper knowledge of Him. If we are to mature in our faith, if our practice of religion will ever go beyond the basic requirements, we must look for more. We need to be active agents with God in moving from knowing about Jesus to knowing Jesus. And as with any relationship it is a conversation. Christ has begun it. Our response is eagerly awaited.

Sunday Readings

Approved

When kids buy an official Major League Yankees cap, there is a 3-D sticker on it showing that it is the real thing. Sometimes the sticker costs more to make than the actual cap! But that sticker says that this is an approved item; it is the real thing. And we pay for it. But we do the same with almost every item we purchase. Little is excluded from this list of preferred objects. Think about it. It began with the ‘Good Housekeeping seal of approval.’ We were told to ‘look for the union label.’ We even budget our households for premium brands verses generics. It seems that a ‘seal of approval’ gives us a feeling of assurance that something is of quality and value. Occasionally, that may even be true.

Today we are celebrating one of those seals of approval. Christ enters the waters of the Jordan and is Baptized by John. His humanity is made holy by the Divinity He already shared with the Father and the Holy Spirit. The voice of the Father and the decent of the Spirit testify to this wonder. It is the approval of the Father and the seal of the Holy Spirit that give a public witness of the Incarnation and the redemption to come. In the Baptism of the Lord, we have the greatest seal of the ultimate approval.

It is this same approval every Baptized person knows. In our Baptism, the Father sees His Son’s Baptism. The gift of the Holy Spirit is given to us as it was given to Christ’s humanity. Something as simple and ordinary as water becomes holy by a blessing even as ordinary people become saints by the same divine action. And we need this. We need to know that we are approved, accepted and sanctified by One greater than ourselves. We are not generics or knock-offs. We are the real thing created in goodness and recreated in grace. We have a dignity and reason higher than what we or others could ever give us. When you think about how hard we try to impress each other, you can see some pretty desperate attempts. We seek approval from the popular clique. We want to catch the eye of a potential mate at the club. We demand our children respect us. We want the boss to like us. We want our friends to envy us. We hope that God will think we’re good enough for heaven.

It’s natural and very human. And it is this humanity that rises out of the Jordan. We see hints of it in the expectant looks of parents as they hold their newly-Baptized infants. We see it in moments when we believe the promise of something better and hope for something more. And every time we cross ourselves with a bit of holy water or recite the creed of our baptismal vows, we go to the Jordan again. We claim the approval we so easily forget once we walk out the church door.

You and I celebrate this feast because something has been approved. Or better, in Christ we are approved. We stand before our God, by the operation of His Holy Spirit, as God’s select and elect. We see our sins and faults washed away in the humanity, sanctified in the waters of the Jordan and offered by Christ on the cross. And because we are approved, we stand without fear, without shame, before the God who has set His seal upon us as He set it upon His Son.

Sunday Readings


Peace and Rage

Every four years, we experience a change of government without revolutionary violence. When the new president takes the oath of office, the previous office-holder instantly becomes an ordinary citizen. Any respect, privileges and security are given as a matter of courtesy only, not law. For the old president, the day is over; their time has come and gone. On a more local level, we personally experience those milestones that says one period of our lives has ended and another has begun. Once you’re out of the gate, you’re out and can’t go back. Maybe that’s why we cry at graduations, anniversaries and weddings.

For us, these are the normal events that add contrast to existence. For some one like Herod, it was a living death. Herod saw a new and unique crowd outside his door. They were there with gifts and loaded with promises. But they were not there for Herod. They were not impressed with his cooperation with the Romans or his wealth gathered from his own people. They announced that Herod’s day was over as clearly as the angels sang that a new King had just begun His. All they did was to ask a question and it started a revolution. They asked for directions and set a king on a path of destruction.

Epiphany is a wonderful season of light. The star, the gold, the wonder of these Magi - all speak of a brilliant revelation of God’s presence. But in the glare of glory there is the shadow of darkness. Even as the ‘dawn of redeeming grace’ begins to shine, something unseemly shows itself. As the star is such a wonderful imagine of the clarity of God’s goodness, Herod’s brooding fear is an icon of fallen human nature. If we see our better nature in the warm glow around the manger, we see our weaker side in the icy state of a jealous king,

Herod knows his time is up and he does not like it. This is a message no one likes to hear. We think in our pride that we will never be replaced, that we are essential and that nothing could go on without us. A child takes the place of a king; a strong man fears a weak infant; a self-serving human despises a self-offering God. As we hear this story and imagine the worship of the nations personified in these Magi, we laugh at Herod. His futile attempt to destroy the revelation of God seems ridiculous. We mock his attempt to defy the will of God.

But as we do, the light of revelation he tried so desperately to destroy shines its annoying light on us as well. It shows us that like Herod, we too have difficulty not being up front and first. We get comfortable with the way things are and the way we are. We do not like to consider that we could be shoved aside or even – God forbid – ignored. The violent rage of Herod is an icon of the simmering anger we can feel when the world refuses us the crown our ego feels we so rightly deserve.

But as we admit the falsehood Herod’s mistake, we can accept the grace of Christ’s truth. We can see the weaker, prideful side of our natures and know that this darkness of scattered by the angel’s Gloria. We can see our honest selves in the mirror and neither fear nor run away from what looks back. In our hope, we see our humanity glorified in the Babe of Bethlehem. In our sin, we see our lesser selves in the face of Herod.

Herod lost. In the end, evil never wins because good and evil are not equals. Our place in this world is temporary at best but our hope is eternal. The light of the star guides us to the truth of God’s mercy while the envy of Herod’s rage imprisons us in the denial of hope. The Magi traveled to see the Son of God and Herod tried to throw Him out with the garbage. The freedom the Magi found was that – as the carol says - “in this world sin, where meek souls will receive Him still, the dear Christ enters in.” As we celebrate the Epiphany, that revelation is ours as well. The light of grace shows that we are sinful. It also shines the comfort of mercy that says it is this very weakness that is redeemed by the Child who shared in it. There is no fear here; there is no call to be shocked or upset. Even as the raging ego screams its demand for respect and world domination, there is a quiet peace of grace that drew kings from afar and shepherd from nearby.

And by God’s infinite mercy, it has drawn us and kept us here as well.