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Making Disciples:
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September 3, 2007
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July 8, 2007 The Movie - "Evan Almighty" & Regarding one another as Friends.
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May 6, 2007
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Easter Sunday
I sometimes like to watch the
CSI/Law and Order-spin offs – primarily because at one time I
secretly wanted to be an investigator and a lawyer. What I find
interesting in these episodes In the best episodes – and keep in mind this is television, not real life - the case is solved because detectives are willing to “look outside the box” for evidence. The prosecution makes its case based not only on the corroborating evidence, but on the compelling testimony of the witness. In real life, however, I suspect that evidence is collected rather conventionally and witnesses are called forth based on how the witness’s testimony backs up the evidence. I do not think that judges are particularly interested in a compelling testimony without evidence. In the words of Joe Friday from the classic police drama, Dragnet, “Just the facts m’ame, just the facts.”
Today’s
Easter readings address both “evidence” and “testimony” of Jesus’
resurrection,
Testimony
in the case of the resurrection is not just about an objective,
Mary of
Magdala’s testimony is based on her personal take on Jesus’
absence.
Simon
Peter ran back to the tomb on Mary of Magdala’s word. He entered
and, like Mary,
In
Colossians, Paul writes: “Think of what is above, not of what is
on earth.”
Resurrection is about Jesus raised from the dead; however,
testimony – how one comes
I believe
and testify that one day we will live in a world freed from war and
national domination.
Testimonies of the resurrection are in fact, the testimonies of
peace, justice, compassion, fellowship, and forgiveness. Let our
gathering this Easter Sunday be a peek into the tomb of
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March 18, 2007
4th Sunday of Lent
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March 11, 2007
3rd Sunday of Lent
In lieu of Father Jon's sermon,
March 4, 2007
Gn 15:5-12, 17-18
Phil 3:17—4:1 or 3:20—4:1
Lk
9:28b-36
One
advantage about seeing a movie in a theater rather than renting
Netflix
Today’s
transfiguration gospel is like a “trailer” for the resurrection.
Let’s examine this
passage more thoroughly: A few short verses
later (verse 48): “…he one who is least among all of you
The
transfiguration at a deep level refers to Christ’s words:
Transfiguration is a
The work
I do in justice is fundamentally the transfiguration of the human
person.
Our
parish community has been made aware of this situation through the
PACT PERSON SPEAKS IN CHURCH In closing, I want
to invite us consider the power of Christ’s words and to imagine
Reflection
Questions
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1 Sm 26:2, 7-9, 12-13, 22-23 1 Cor 15:45-49 Lk 6:27-38
As a kid, I would take
our family scrapbooks and photo albums when
we returned from vacation and pour over photos and postcards
remembering the fun times.
These photos would be accompanied by family stories and in typical
family fashion,
my brother, dad and I would be side tracked into a life lesson by my
mother’s
commentary on some aspect of the family trip.
Our
Eucharistic gathering is like sitting around looking at postcards
and photos.
Today we are looking at the Jesus’ postcard on love. The gospel of
Luke speaks of a
love that is more than mere physical attraction and deeper than
emotional sentiment.
In Luke’s gospel, love is a fundamental decision to be in
relationship with another person.
This decision of relationship is “discipleship love,” a love that is
wholly other-centered and completely unconditional even to the point
of loving one’s enemies.
Discipleship love is not convenient. After all, who wants to
surrender a coat?
Turn the other cheek? Who can honestly suspend judgment? Who can
resist the urge
to exact vengeance? Jesus says, “Love your enemies, do good to
those who hate you,
bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you….Stop
judging…
Stop condemning…Forgive and you will be forgiven.”
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Is it
easy to live as Christ calls us to? No. At least not for me.
We all heard about the terrible massacre of the Amish school
children a few months ago.
A man came into an Amish school and shot 10 girls and killed
himself. Five of the girls who died were Amish. As the story
unfolded, an amazing and quite disturbing sub-story emerged: the
reaction of the Amish community.
The Amish community did not rise up in anger and vengeance. Had the
Amish families
called for retribution we would understand their reaction, and see
it as justified anger.
The story would then be about the innocent victims and the horrible
character of the
perpetrator, instead, the story became about the Amish’s response to
this violence and evil.
The Amish’s first response was to go to the killer’s family and
offer them food and consolation
for the loss of their son. At the funeral, a grandfather of one of
the girls killed told other children that they mustn’t think evil of
the killer. This story serves as an uncomfortable and inconvenient
reminder of our forgotten Christian roots. The Amish’s decision to
love in the face of such
violence hit a prophetic nerve: Love ultimately demands a surrender
of the self so totally complete, that we might even stand a chance
of losing ourselves in the process of loving.
This is the love of Christ: to give without consideration of a
return.
The Amish decision of love was not a sign of naďveté, but rather a
sign of their strength.
Mahatma Ghandi said:
“The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the
strong.”
Christ’s
message of love is relatively simple yet so difficult to live out.
We make his message complicated when we try to get around the
simplicity of his
commandment: we create terms like, “Just War” and we permit the
execution of prisoners.
We make the demand of love when we accommodate ourselves to
circumstances and conditions. We fabricate philosophies, theologies
and ideologies that give license to our insensitivity and
indifference to the fragile members of our communities: the unborn,
the elderly, the terminally ill, the immigrant, the poor, and the
incarcerated. We eventually
end up equivocating rights to a fair trial and search and seizure,
and we sever the last
hanging thread of ethics not by debating the morality of torturing a
prisoner, but rather the
necessity and legality of doing so.
Today our
postcard is a reminder: “Love the enemy. Do no harm to him.”
Through the liturgical readings, we have a snapshot of Jesus’ words.
I know deep
down that I already have the answer - that I must engage in a
process of reconciliation.
I will forever be pulled into a cycle of retribution that inevitably
spirals into violence unless
I decide to love my enemy. I must love those who do harm to others,
otherwise my words of anger – no matter how justified – will merely
baptize my hatred and confirm my prejudice.
My sacrament will become my self-righteousness and my enemy will
reveal himself as
my (false) god. I must – for the sake of salvation – decide to love
even those
who do harm unto others.
So, I
stand here before you not as one who has “got it all figured out,”
but rather as a student of Christ, his disciple. I need to learn
from my fellow disciples,
the Amish. I need the Eucharist because here at this table ultimate
truth reveals itself:
“This is the cup of my blood: the Blood of the new and everlasting
covenant.
It shall be shed for you and for all for the forgiveness of sins.”
From this gathering we
are sent forth to live this covenant of love out in the context of
our lives and in memory of the
One who redeemed us. Let our sharing in this cup of forgiveness be
that first step of healing.
REFLECTION QUESTIONS
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February 11, 2007
Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Times
Father Jon was away in Washington D.C. to
represent the San Jose Diocese
in important meetings between church leaders and lawmakers
regarding a variety of major social issues, including immigration.
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February 4, 2007
Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Times
Isaiah
1-2a, 3-8
I Corinthians 15: 1-11
Luke 5: 1-11
Today’s
readings speak of various ways in which the
Call to follow God is lived
out.
Isaiah is given the charge to inspire the people as they rebuild
their country.
He is called to bring a message of hope. God affirms Isaiah because
the prophet is so
distracted by his personal sinfulness. Finally Isaiah says, “Here I
am, send me!”
In the Gospel Peter says, “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful
man.”
In this case, Peter’s sin is he did not believe in Christ’s power.
Jesus calls Peter to a
new mission: to leave his nets behind and begin a new life. “From
now on, you will be
catching human beings.” Turning to Paul we see that his call is a
call of grace. Paul
previously participated in the persecution of Christians, which led
to the torture and death
of many. Paul acknowledges the sinful nature of his actions
and humbly accepts the call to
serve by saying, “But by the grace of God I am what I am.” In each
of these cases, God
called and people responded. Today I want to spend a bit of time on
the issue of Call.
When
Catholics find out that one of their Catholic friends was a convert
they ask,
“Why did you become Catholic? What was it that drew you to the
Church?” I myself am a convert.
I get asked this question a lot. In the past the question was
somewhat easy to answer
because the question as actually about Church. I could talk
about my experiences of
Church of the community, the liturgies, the history of the
Church, my appreciation of the
Church’s contributions in society, etc…The question underneath the
question of Church, is the person of Jesus Christ. The
question should be, “Why did I choose to follow Christ?”
Now, isn’t that the fundamental question?
I want to
address the distinction that some of us make between the call to
follow Jesus Christ
and the call to live out one’s relationship with Christ in the
Church. Our initiation rites last week
do not ask the question, “Why do you want to follow Christ.”
Rather, the rite asks question,
“What do you ask of this Church?” Contrast that with Evangelicals
and so-called Born-Again Christians who ask, “Do you choose to
accept Christ as your personal Lord and Savior?”
This latter question focuses on the person of Jesus Christ, not the
Church. I am not by any
means suggesting that we change our Catholic initiation rites to
include the question, “Do you accept Jesus Christ as your personal
Lord and Savior?” I am simply pointing out an observation that might
lead us to deeper understanding and appreciation of our own Catholic
call and identity.
Two
incidents over the past three weeks have called my attention to
looking at the
not-so-subtle distinction between the call to follow Christ and
Church membership. The first incident occurred in the Passion Play
script development discussion with some of the teens. Without
giving too much away about the script, (I think we know the basic
storyline) much of the discussion revolved around three basic
issues: Who was Jesus? Who is Jesus now?
And, “How should we convey who Jesus was and who Jesus is?” The
teens suggested that a panel of youth actors will remain in the
church after Passion Sunday mass to respond to questions that
congregants might have. Of course this is an unabashed teaser for
the Passion Play!
The second
incident was quite independent of this issue. I received an email
essay
from a woman speaking about her struggle of being a woman in the
Catholic Church.
For the sake of space, I have edited her quote.
She says,
“something holds me to Catholicism… When I enter a Catholic Church,
whether it be through our little parish doors or the greater
doors of a mission, the first thing that greets me is the essence of
God,
the Spirit that is shared in me, in all of us. I see it in the
faces of the people sitting in their seats.
I hear it in the voices of those quietly praying their beads. And I
see it at the altar that men have forbidden me to participate at.
How can I see all this? Because despite the structures men have
built to mold what they want the church to look like, I can see the
hand of God working through it…Where God’s grace is concerned, there
are no boundaries; there are no gender differences, no individuals
less worthy than others. There are (sic) only us…The men can have
the structure of Roman Catholicism. All I need is its soul, and no
man can keep that from me.”
The essay
in its entirety and the discussion with the young people in the
script development meeting exemplified for me the power of St. Paul,
“I am what I am.” In other words, “God has called, and I accept
that call.” Today’s readings highlight the power of grace in God’s
Call to us. The readings remind us that the task of community
is to help each of us to live out the Call.
We are reminded that it was God’s grace that filled the nets of
Peter and the first apostles,
not their efforts. We are challenged today to believe that it is
God’s grace that calls us to this
table and that this same grace holds our community together, not the
restrictions imposed by history. And lastly, it is God’s grace that
sends us forth from this Table to inspire others and to serve others
and to bring God’s message of hope to the world.
REFLECTION QUESTIONS
1)
Have you had an
experience of being called by God?
Has your personal situation (marriage, divorce, gender, sexual
orientation)
played a part in how you discerned that call?
2)
Do you agree that
the Church’s role is to help you live out God’s Call to you?
Why? How should or could the Church help you live out the Call?
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January 21, 2007
Third Sunday in Ordinary Times
"The Spirit of
the Lord is upon me, because
he has anointed me to bring
glad tidings to the poor."
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 Dorothy Day |
Readings:
Neh 8:2-4a, 5-6, 8-10
1 Cor 12:12-30 or 12:12-14, 27
Lk
1:1-4; 4:14-21
I want to
open up our reflection this morning with a quote from one of our
modern day
American “saints”, Dorothy Day:
"The greatest challenge of the day is: how to bring about a
revolution
of the heart, a revolution that has to start with each one of us."
Dorothy
Day born in 1897, did not start out her life as a Catholic or a
spiritual leader.
Her career began in journalism and her political activities were
associated with
radical ideologies that flew in the face of American sensibilities.
Her love of social justice
was complemented by spirituality. She had a deep love for social
justice and an abiding
desire to know the transcendent God. She saw the connection between
worship and justice.
Dorothy
was drawn to the Catholic Church’s liturgy. Remember that Catholic
liturgy prior
to Vatican II was an ornate ritual worship using highly embroidered
vestments and chalices embedded with precious stones. The liturgy
was conducted in Latin and the priest faced
the high altar with his back to the people. Dorothy Day regarded
the mystery of the
pre-Vatican II liturgy as a way of elevating the congregants’
dignity, an affirmation of
their true personhood, as it were.
Dorothy was attracted in particular to St. Joseph’s Church on Sixth
Avenue
in Manhattan. It, like most Catholic Churches of the 1920’s, was a
Church of poor immigrants.
The beauty of the ritual affirmed that all people, especially the
poor immigrant families are
children of God and should be respected.
Dorothy wrote, “worship, adoration, thanksgiving, supplication
...
were the noblest acts of which we are capable in this life."
Peter Maurin
After a
difficult marriage, she and her daughter were received
into the Catholic Church in 1927. She continued to work in
journalism until 1932 when
she met a former religious, a Christian Brother, Peter Maurin.
Peter was a French immigrant
who encouraged Dorothy to publicize a Catholic newspaper based on
social teaching
that would help bring about a peaceful transformation of society.
She sold the paper, called,
The Catholic Worker for a penny a copy.
Dorothy’s kitchen served as the publishing office.
The Catholic Worker did not remain merely
as words in print, but became a social
movement within the Church. The Depression of the 1930’s hit
New York hard.
Thousands of homeless people displaced by unemployment and lack of
affordable housing wandered the streets, looking for shelter.
Maurin, meanwhile, wrote essays about renewing
the Christian practice of hospitality to the homeless. He advocated
that Christians must open
their homes not only to friends and relatives, but to anyone in
need. He took Christ’s words,
“I was a stranger and you took me in…” literally. Every parish, he
said, should have a hospitality house welcoming the poor and
homeless and every parishioner’s home have a Christ Room to receive
an “Ambassador of God,” a homeless person.
Soon
Dorothy’s apartment was filled with desperate men and by 1936
the quasi-religious community of the down and out and their helpers
moved into other neighborhoods. The Catholic Worker became a
national movement. The push of the
movement was not to harangue the residents, but rather to push for
social change and
address the causes that led people to addiction and poverty. One
critic from the school
of “pick yourself up by your own bootstraps” complained that Dorothy
should be less critical
of the social order and more critical of the people who were poor.
The critic cited Jesus’ statement, “The poor you will always have
with you.”
Dorothy retorted, "Yes, but we are not content that there should
be so many of them.
The class structure is our making and by our consent, not God's, and
we must do
what we can to change it. We are urging revolutionary change."
Dorothy
and Peter Maurin’s greatest opposition was not about the class
struggle,
but rather in the area of peace-making. Both Peter and Dorothy were
avowed pacifists.
They had to deal with an American society that was highly
patriotic. Patriotism was and is
even today, unfortunately linked to one’s readiness to use violence
as a means to protect American interests. The Catholic Worker also
had opposition from the Church. The Church supported the Franco
side of the Spanish Civil War. Franco, a fascist, had positioned
himself
as a defender of the Faith. American Bishops rallied behind him.
The newspaper,
The Catholic Worker, lost much of its readership
because of its unapologetic pacifist stance.
Over the years, Dorothy and Peter continued to promote social
justice and spirituality.
Dorothy was recognized for her hard work in the area of Peace and
Justice. In 1967 she
received communion from Pope Paul VI. She and one other American,
an astronaut, were
the only Lay Americans at the International Congress of the Laity,
to receive that honor.
Our parish has been supporting a Catholic Worker House for nearly 30
years,
Casa de Clara. Parishioners here at St. Julie’s go about
making meals for women and
children, doing needed repairs on the house and raising money to
support the work of the
Catholic Worker. I myself have been to Casa de Clara and have seen
the
beautiful simplicity of the Catholic Worker.
This
reflection of Dorothy Day’s life is a means in which we see the
spirit of today’s readings played out. Ezra, a priest and prophet,
has the difficult task of getting a defeated people re-energized
about their faith in God and their faith in themselves. He gathers
them together and reminds them that they have an inalienable dignity
given to them by God and no one can take that dignity away from
them. Paul speaks about the unity that we must feel as a
community. He reminds us that while we might have different tasks
within this world, we are essentially one body and that we are all
connected to each other, that when one suffers, we all feel the
pain.
Dorothy
Day’s life reflects the spirit of Ezra and St. Paul.
In fact, Dorothy Day is currently being considered for sainthood.
She herself would most
likely be ambivalent about it. When someone called her a saint, she
replied,
“Don't call me a saint. I don't want to be dismissed so easily."
Indeed.
The
spirit of the Lord was upon Dorothy and the Lord had anointed her
for a mission
of bringing glad tidings to the poor, to proclaim liberation to
those held in the bondage
of poverty and addiction and to help those who are blind to
injustice or to their own captivity,
see. Our work in social justice and spirituality sets the oppressed
free. I believe that
Scripture has been fulfilled by Dorothy Day, Peter Maurin and by the
countless
others who quietly and gently toil behind the scenes making Justice
and Peace a reality
for our time. Let our Eucharist here at St. Julie’s, then, be that
meeting point of
love of neighbor and love of God.
Catholic Worker Home Page:
http://www.catholicworker.com
REFLECTION QUESTIONS
1.
By making Dorothy Day a saint, will she really be “easily
dismissed”?
2.
Do you agree with Dorothy and Peter in their decision to
address poverty
by confronting systems of economic injustice?
3.
Does our
American society need a new “Dorothy Day” in these times
when the economic gap between the wealthy and the poor is so vast?
(FYI:
Chief
executive officers at 367 top US corporations were paid, on average,
$431 last year for every $1 paid to their companies' average
production worker,
according to publicly available information jointly compiled in
September (05) by
Institute for Policy Studies and United for a Fair Economy. In
1990, the ration was
about $100-to-$1. (If the federal minimum wage had increased since
1990 by the
same rate as the multiple for CEO's pay, it would have risen from
$5.15 an hour
to $23.03)
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January 14, 2007
Second Sunday in Ordinary Times
Wedding Feast of Cana
Readings:
Is 62:1-5
1 Cor 12:4-11
John
2:1-11
In a conversation about the Iraq War the other day,
someone said,
“What this country needs is a Winston Churchill. That is someone
that can see the big picture,
tell the truth and inspire people.” I thought about this but only
partially agreed.
I tend to believe in the collective hero and not the singular hero.
By “collective hero,”
I mean that no single individual guides the progress of the people,
but rather, the cooperation
of all working together creates positive progress. The danger of
having a “hero” is that while the single victim is saved, the entire
system remains the same. In other words,
Superman swoops down and saves a cat out of the tree, but the next
day, there will be
another cat and another tree. Nothing changed. A “collective hero,”
on the other hand, uses everyone’s gifts, as it says in 1
Corinthians,
To each individual the manifestation of the Spirit is given for some benefit…one and the same Spirit produces all of these, distributing them individually to each person as he wishes.
A
collective hero brings about transformation.
The entire system is transformed. The collective hero may not
necessarily save the cat from the tree today, but after a while, the
people will help change the situation in a way that cats being stuck
in trees are no longer an issue. Maybe trees are equipped with
ladders, maybe people themselves learn how to rescue their own cats,
maybe cats learn how to…no.
Never mind, I have a cat. They learn what they want to.
There
are; however, certain heroes that do in fact change society. They
change society
not because the change has been about themselves, but because they
realized that they themselves were a part of something greater. One
of these heroes is Martin Luther King. He empowered an entire
generation of African Americans to be their own hero. He inspired
liberation movements for all sorts of people with all sorts of
people.
Tomorrow
is Martin Luther King Day. We celebrate the day as a way to
recognize the
contribution of a great man who helped transform our society with
global repercussions.
Rev. King helped us look at our world and not become bitter. He
confronted lynchings with love. He confronted segregation with
love. He confronted efforts to intimidate voter registration
campaigns with love. For Rev. King, love took many forms: protests,
boycotts, marches, public prayers, walkouts and preaching. Love
inspired and love transformed. His words,
I have a dream
that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning
of
its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men
are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the
sons of former slaves and the
sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the
table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day
even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the
heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be
transformed into an
oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today!
Rev. King’s sermons inspired us to imagine all
humanity working, living, loving,
playing and praying together. He tapped into our own dream of
peace. He gave us
permission to see the possibility for our own transformation not
only as individuals, but
collectively as a people.
Isaiah was all about transformation. The prophet writes,
No more shall people call you “Forsaken, “or your land
“Desolate,
“but you shall be called “My Delight,” and your land “Espoused.”
Isaiah
inspired the people to see themselves differently. He got them to
think of
themselves as people who are not victims, but rather free people.
When people see
themselves differently, doesn’t it seem as if they act
differently? Their actions generate
positive changes in others. I think of Rosa Parks who at the end of
a long, hard day,
reflexively thought to herself that wasn’t going to be anybody’s
nobody. Her self-reflection,
her sense of being – certainly inspired by the work of Rev. King and
others like him,
generated a total transformation of Southern society.
When
Jesus takes these large pitchers of water that were previously used
for
“purification rituals,” he changes the symbol, he turns it on its
head. Purification is tied to
sin and sinfulness. Of course, wine – and the best of wine – is
tied to celebration and used to honor the guests.
“Everyone serves good wine first, and then when people have
drunk freely, an inferior
one; but you have kept the good wine until now.”
As Jesus transforms the
water into wine, the old symbols of sin and sinfulness are
transformed into a symbol of gracious love and celebration. Jesus
didn’t, then, fill the
pitchers only with wine; he filled them with new meaning. Jesus
inspires, he doesn’t condemn. Jesus lifts up the sinner, he doesn’t
reject him. Jesus enters into the reality of our lives, but doesn’t
take over our life.
Jesus
gives us a new life that is entirely ours to live. If we have drunk
of the wine of this
new life, we have done so because we realize that we are forgiven.
We acknowledge
that sin and shame no longer hold us bondage. We
experience within ourselves that we are unconditionally loved and
accepted as who we are and our actions toward others will
reflect this most powerful experience of love. We will be so
transformed from within,
that on the outside we will find ourselves moving away from
condemning others, for
presuming God’s judgment on another person whom we do not know. We
will find ourselves refraining from using power and influence and we
will begin to let go of things that are
not ours to possess.
Imagine
if we become that collective hero, that if we become that Body of
Christ that
stands up to the powers of rage and violence. Imagine that we stand
down rhetoric that divides our people into welcome and unwelcome.
Imagine that we sing a hymn of peace in the face of those who beat
the drums for war. Imagine a world transformed by Christ’s love.
As we come to feast at this table, let the food that has been
transformed into the
Body and Blood of Christ transform us. Let us in turn, transform
our world.
1)
Do you think that this country needs a hero like Winston
Churchill or
that this country needs a collective transformation?
2)
What positive effect would the Church (community and
institution) have
if it were to become more visibly engaged in the Peace Movement here
in the US? What would be the negative repercussions?
3)
What effect would there be on the national debate about
escalation of
troop levels in Iraq if religious institutions were to offer
conscientious objector counseling to soldiers and recruits who
regret their decision to enlist?
Would people be influenced to rally against the war by this action?
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January 7, 2007
Feast of The Epiphany of The Lord
- National Migration Week
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Readings:
Is 60:1-6
Eph 3:2-3a, 5-6
Mt 2:1-12
Isaiah portrays
the child as, “The Light of the Nations.”
This means that the Christ does not belong to any specific people
or be limited to his geography.
In Ephesians we hear the phrase, “Gentiles are co-heirs, members
of the same body,
and co-partners in the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel.”
This phrase indicates that Christ Jesus was born to save all
people and lead them to
the vision of the Light of the Creator regardless of their race,
religion or tribal affiliation.
The Epiphany invites us to see the Christ in the same way as the
three Magi from the East: All Are Welcome.
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This
invitation is inclusive and generous – our hearts, as Isaiah says,
“Throb with joy”
when we hear that we too are included in God’s plan. God accepts
us as we are.
We need not belong to a specific race or religion or born in a
specific area to be saved.
We are called, chosen, and welcomed to adore the Christ.
Not everyone; however, shares in this joy. Herod and the
established powers in
Jerusalem were quite troubled not merely by the advent of the star,
but that
“foreigners” or “Auslanders” noted the star and sought the true King
of Israel.
These Magi were astrologers who paid attention to the nuance of the
sky. They paid heed
to the signs of the heavens – to the details that are so easily lost
to those who think that
there is nothing else to see.
Herod
was an arrogant and cruel leader. He ran his regime with absolute
power:
he decided and people followed. He needed no counsel nor was he
motivated
to listen or look for nuance or details, much less look for subtle
changes in the night sky.
So, when he encountered these Magi, feigning interest, he inquired
where this child
would be born for the true intention – to be revealed a few verses
later, to kill the child.
In fact, Herod was so intent on killing the child, that he
slaughtered all male children that
might pose a danger to his throne. Herod was not interested in
surrendering his power
to a higher authority.
Herod
felt he “owned” his power and that he “owned” the law. Herod and
his
entourage unfortunately forgot that they held power only because the
Romans employed
Herod as a puppet ruler, and his entourage were tolerated only in as
much as they
served the interests of Rome. Ownership must be balanced by
humility and legitimacy.
If we forget that we are mere stewards of what we have been given,
then we, like Herod,
become drunk on the illusion of our non-existent power.
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When
anyone feels that they “own” the land that they live on, is it
possible that we
forget this land once belonged to someone else before we arrived
here?
Did we forget that this land belonged to the Mexican Ranchers?
Before them, the Spanish
Land Grantees, and before them, the Native American people who
occupied this very land
we are worshipping on for an estimated 10,000 years?
This
week is National Migration Week, a week dedicated to pray for and be
educated
about migrants and refugees.
The
week serves as a reminder to us about the
difficulties and challenges that migrants and refugees face each
day. Like the Holy Family
that fled the danger of Herod and sought safety in a foreign land,
each day 200 million
immigrants throughout the world seek shelter from danger in search
of a safe harbor
where they can live in security and have a future for their
children.
The
present debate on immigration has lost touch with these basic issues
of humanity.
We have lost touch with the human dimension of struggle and basic
survival.
We turn on CNN and hear Lou Dobbs rail against immigrants, and he
shows the same image of people hopping over fences and running from
border guards.
These images are tragic realities that touch on legitimate security
concerns about
unchecked immigration; however, these concerns are distorted by
politicians and
broadcast pundits who foment fear and distrust of migrants for the
sake of furthering
their own careers.
Epiphany faith teaches us that our God is a God of love whose love
is made
manifest in his son Christ Jesus.
The
movement of people has been and will continue to be a force of
history.
From the perspective of faith, we must become attuned to the human
stories that
produce today’s migration patterns. We must hear the stories of
Javier and Sara
whose eldest daughter died because she lacked sufficient calcium and
the story of Xue
from a small village outside Shanghai who was tricked into working
in a sweat shop
on the Marianas Islands. We must patiently listen to Fatima’s
harrowing tale of living each
day in fear that the walls of her house will collapse on her as the
bombs drop closer and
closer to her house. While it might be easier to be taken in by the
squawk box voices
inciting panic and fear in us by being “taken over” by refugees and
immigrants, our opinions
must be shaped by Christian compassion.
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This
week we are invited to listen to the stories of our migrant brothers
and sisters
and to the stories of our own ancestors who risked life and limb to
create a future
for their own descendants.
As we
come forward to this Table for communion, let us be mindful that
though distance,
time and geography separate us from the Christ Child, the Magi, and
the millions of
migrants and refugees throughout the world, when we take of this
bread and wine, we truly participate in a mystery that draws all of
us together in one singular act of worship: Eucharist.
Reflection Questions
1)
Do you agree that migration is an important issue that the
Church
cannot ignore? Do you think it is important that the Church weigh
in
on this issue publicly?
2)
What ways can our parish continue to be sensitive to the
ever-changing demographic in terms of service and liturgy?
3)
Are there world leaders like Herod today? Is it possible to
oppose such leaders without the use of violence?
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