How we keep Christmas is dependent on how we keep Advent.

As Americans, we live torn between two wholly different Christmas world views. Our nation begins the celebration of Christmas on Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving. On December 25th, as our nation concludes the Christmas Season, the Catholic Church begins the Christmas Season which will end on the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord. As faithful Catholics living in the United States, how do we reconcile or find any balance between these two very conflicting world views? My parents found a way of reconciling this conflict many years ago.

On the first Sunday of Advent, my father would buy our Christmas tree, and set it up in our living room. My parents would drape the tree with lights and garland. My brother and sister and I would place the ornaments upon the tree. Along the base of the tree was a Christmas tree skirt, on top of which was  placed our Christmas crèche. Around the base of the tree my father would set up the train tracks for our Lionel train. The Christmas crèche served a dual role as railroad station/birthplace of Jesus. However, the crèche was empty of Christmas figurines and no train was placed on the train track.

Where were the figurines of Mary and Joseph? Starting from the furthest place from the Christmas tree, my  mother would move them throughout the living room. As the candles were lit on our Advent wreath, Mary and Joseph would gradually move closer to the stable.  The lights on the tree would be turned on at night, however, the space below the tree remained empty, a visible reminder to us kids that Christmas was not here, yet.

When we came downstairs on Christmas morning, we found the Christmas crèche filled with the figurines of animals and shepherds. In their midst were Mary and Joseph, their gaze fixed upon the baby Jesus. The train would circumnavigate the tree, bringing invisible crowds of people to the stable where they, too, could adore the Christ child.

As we journey in this Season of Advent, basking in the light of Christmas decorations, drowning in the endless choruses of Christmas carols, concerts, and holiday specials, parties and food, let us be mindful that Christmas has not yet begun. The space below the Christmas tree remains empty. The real celebration will only begin when on December 25th, within the Christmas crèche, we see the figures of Mary, Joseph, and the baby Jesus.

Grateful to God in adversity – homily for Thanksgiving

This past Thanksgiving Day I was called on to do a Word and Communion at St. Scholastica Church. This is the homily I gave for that Word and Communion.

HOMILY FOR THANKSGIVING – 2017
Thanksgiving is a holiday in which we pause in our busy lives to be grateful. Grateful for the relationships we have in our lives, especially with those we love and befriend. Grateful for the blessings with which God has given us. Grateful for work and meaning to our lives. All of this part of our lives interacting with God.

For some, however, this day and the rest of the holiday season is a time of great sadness in which they find little to be grateful. This past Tuesday, I facilitated my separated and divorce support group. I ordered special made cupcakes for the meeting knowing that those cupcakes may be the only thing that is positive in their lives this week. Some families are so broken and so dysfunctional that they don’t even gather in fragments to eat a meal together. One participant will bring her blind brother to Perkins for a Thanksgiving meal. Many will sit home, alone, eating a turkey T.V. dinner.

This coming Tuesday I will co-facilitate a support group for families who have lost a loved one to suicide. Though the loss grows less as the year passes, they continue to mourn the absence of that loved one who has died, always wondering whether they could have done anything to help save their loved one’s life.

Oh, that all supplications to God for healing would have the happy ending of the 10 lepers in the gospel story today! And, yet the chronically ill, those acutely ill in hospitals will not have their illnesses so readily and completely cured.
The questions is how to give thanks when there seems to be little for which to be thankful? How do we give thanks when life appears empty of meaning, when our personal losses overwhelm all the good we have? How to give thanks to God in the midst of adversity and suffering?

St. Paul, in the second reading, answers this question. As we read many of the letters of St. Paul, he states the same answer to the questions I have just posed. St. Paul was arrested, whipped, schemed against, tortured, beaten, almost executed by stoning, and eventually would be jailed and martyred by the Romans. Yet, St. Paul always was giving thanks to God for all his suffering? Was he delusional? Was he serious? He was absolutely serious.

In the second reading, St. Paul writes to the Corinthians these words, “God is faithful, and by him you were called to fellowship with his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.” That for which St. Paul is so grateful is the relationship he was with God through Jesus Christ. St. Paul knows that in the midst of his suffering, God is ever by his side, always in relationship with him. It is this intimate relationship with which St. Paul has with God that fills him with such great thankfulness and joy.

This is not an entirely new concept introduced by St. Paul. In Psalm 23, we hear the psalm writer express, “Though should walk through the Valley of Death, I fear no evil for you are at my side.” The writer of this psalm knows full well that his relationship with God will not prevent hardships in his life. However, the psalm writer knows that he will not have to endure those hardships alone, for God will be right by his side through all the suffering he may have to endure.

Back in 2002, I was involved in a head-on collision that altered my life. The severe injury to my left leg indirectly led to all the joint replacements I have had in recent years. However, the most life altering thing that occurred in that accident was the irreparable damage done to my right hand. Unbeknownst to me and the doctors, all the ligaments in the right hand had been shredded in the accident. Because the damage to the left leg was so severe, the surgeons had to focus on the leg. By the time they noticed the damage done to my right hand, they could do little to restore my hand to full function. The hand surgeon told me he could restore 60% of my hand, but not 100%. This was more devastating than the damage done to my left leg. I earned my living as a musician. I directed church music. I was a professional pianist, and, all of a sudden, my livelihood, the joy of playing music at a professional level ended. I was angry! This loss was too great.

Over time, while I continue to mourn the loss of being able to play well, (I can fake it, but it will never be as good as it once was), I began to give thanks to God for once having had the ability to play piano so very well. I give thanks to God for giving me a gift that not many people have. I once was able to play professionally and I am forever grateful to God for that wonderful time in my life.

Many of our stories at this Thanksgiving do not have the happy ending of the lepers in the gospel story. However, in spite of the losses we have in our lives, we are still able to give thanks for the relationships with others we once had. We are still able to give thanks to God for the gifts we once were able to use. And, most importantly, we give thanks for the relationship that we will always have with the God who created us and has loved us to death. As St. Paul states so very well today, “God is faithful, and by him you were called to fellowship with his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.”

Will I Be Remembered – a homily for the 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

With my wife’s knee replacement surgery and rehab, work commitments and other extra surprises in my life, I haven’t contributed much to this blog as of late. Below is the homily I gave for this weekend at St. Wenceslaus Church. The only inaccuracy is that in the homily I said that my sister, Mary Ruth, died 17 years ago. It has actually been 20 years ago … hard to believe it has been that long.

The gospel for the 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time is both positive and somber. As we approach the end of this liturgical year, and hear these “end-times” scripture readings, we are reminded of something that St. Paul wrote in his second letter to the Corinthians. All things of earth, including us, are transitory and not quite real. That which is eternal and real, eternal life, lies just beyond the veil that separates this life from the next.

HOMILY FOR THE 33RD SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME, YEAR A, 2017

I was visiting my sister, Mary, in Intensive Care several days before her death. She knew she was dying. She turned to me and asked me, “Will I be remembered?” She was 42 years of age, not married, had no real significant person in her life other than her family. She asked me again, “Will I be remembered?” I pulled a chair up alongside her hospital bed, sat down and took her hand. Then I began to do a review of her life.

I recalled how she had valiantly battled her chronic disease for 25 years. How, in spite of her chronic illness, she received a degree as an Occupational Therapist from the College of St. Catherine. I reminded her of the great number of cardiac patients she helped during her career as a cardiac occupational therapist. I recalled how proud I was of her when she received her Master of Arts degree in Education from the University of St. Thomas, and how she was working toward receiving a PhD. I reminded her of the many places she traveled with her doctor friends throughout Northern Europe, Hawaii, and the South Pacific, even camping with them in the Boundary Waters. I talked to her about the children’s book she wrote and illustrated to help children suffering from chronic illness, and, when her illness forced her to go on permanent medical leave, how she began to produce and publish greetings cards that were sold in the gift shops around Roseville.

I reminded her as to how important she was to Ruthie and I and our kids. She especially loved my kids taking them to movies, the Christmas display at Daytons in downtown Minneapolis, the many family picnics and pictures she planned. I reminded her of how important she was to her friends and how much they loved and supported her throughout her life. I concluded, “Mary, you wonder if you will be remembered. How can you not be remembered?” She died three days later, her head cradled in the lap of her dear friend, Dr. Bob Conlin, and all of us standing around her bed.

She has now been dead 17 years. If you go to Navy Island in St. Paul, her name is memorialized in the paved stones along the walkway. Every year on her birthday, June 14th, Flag Day, her friends gather at her grave and sing all the songs she loved. My mother still receives cards from my sister’s friends on her birthday. On Thanksgiving, we will all remember how she hogged all the mushrooms in the turkey gravy, and recall stories of how the bees pestered us at those family picnics. We talk about the Santa Bears she bought for Meg and Beth when they were little. “Will I be remembered?” Mary, how could we ever forget you?

The Gospel for today is really about the importance of doing a review of our lives. It makes no difference whether we have many years ahead in our lives, for very few years left of our lives. Jesus reminds us in this parable of the talents, that when we were born, God blessed us with many gifts. How have we used the gifts God has given us in service to God and in service to others? To go back to the Great Commandment of Jesus, have we used the “talents” we have received by God in our lives in loving God and in loving others? Or, have we hoarded the “talents” we have received from God and buried them by using them only to benefit ourselves and no one else, not even our God?

It is important for us to do this review of our lives for ourselves now, before our lives are reviewed by God when we die. As St. Paul reminds the Thessalonians in the second reading, “For you yourselves know very well that the day of the Lord will come like a thief at night. When people are saying, ‘Peace and security, ‘ then sudden disaster comes upon them, like labor pains upon a pregnant woman,
and they will not escape. … Therefore, let us not sleep as the rest do, but let us stay alert and sober.”

While my sister’s question, “Will I be remembered?”  was important to her, in all honesty, the answer to that question is, “No.” Unless someone does something notable like Abraham Lincoln, or something notorious like Adolf Hitler, not a one of us will be memorialized for all time. All of us who remember my sister, Mary, Ruthie and I, our immediate family, will die. The friends who gather at her gravesite year after year will eventually dwindle, as they grow more frail in mind and body, and, then die. After the death of my own children, the memory of my sister will be remembered only in faded photographs and in government birth records and death records. The wind, snow, rain, and sun will eventually erode and erase her name from the paved stones of that walkway on Navy Island.

The question we must make a point to ask while we are alive, today, is “How will God remember me?” When we die, will we hear God say to us, “’Well done, my good and faithful servant. Since you were faithful in small matters, I will give you great responsibilities. Come, share your master’s joy.”? Or, will we hear God say, “Throw this useless servant into the darkness outside, where there will be wailing and grinding of teeth.”? The answer will be determined by how we have used the talents, the gifts, God has given us in service to our God and in service to our neighbor.