The Advent name for God is Emmanuel. We sing it over and over in the familiar hymn, “O come, O come, Emmanuel.” The name means “God is with us” and comes to us from the prophet Isaiah. Matthew’s Gospel reminds us that Jesus was a fulfillment of this prophecy, God with us in the flesh, born a human baby, like us in all things. It’s an echo of the more exalted language of the prologue of John’s Gospel, which tells us that the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us. Scripture scholars tell us that the second half of John’s Greek phrase translates literally as “pitched his tent among us.” This was an image that a first-century, semi-nomadic people would understand. In the Old Testament, God’s presence among the people was often described as a messenger or angel of the Lord. But the revelation of the incarnation is that now it is God himself in our midst and one of us. It’s difficult for us to grasp this concept. Perhaps this is why Matthew and Luke make such a point of describing the baby in the manger visited by shepherds, the child receiving gifts from the magi.
Perhaps this is why we have such a resonance with Christmas. We understand the great gift of life in a newborn child. There’s a purity in a newborn, a sense of both innocence and ancient wisdom, that gives us a glimpse of God. Knowing that God not only knows but experienced what it was to be a human being, composed of blood and flesh and bone, limited by all the things that limit us, should give us patience with our weakness and joy in our strength. In our prayers for help, we can say, “You know what it’s like,” and be confident that he does. But we can also look to the end of the story and know that by being one of us, he was able to raise us up to overcome those limits—and the final limit of death itself. As St. Irenaeus put it so well, “He became human so that we might become divine.”
The holiday season with its hustle and bustle and seemingly endless activities places demands on our bodies as well as our spirits. We can, if we like, imagine Jesus in the busy days of his preaching and teaching and healing ministry. If we do, we may also hear him calling to us and saying, “Come aside and rest for a while.” Because we know that he knows what it is to feel tired and need to be rested and refreshed.
2 Now John had heard in prison what Christ was doing and he sent his disciples to ask him, 3 ‘Are you the one who is to come, or are we to expect someone else?’ 4 Jesus answered, ‘Go back and tell John what you hear and see; 5 the blind see again, and the lame walk, those suffering from virulent skin-diseases are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised to life and the good news is proclaimed to the poor; 6 and blessed is anyone who does not find me a cause of falling.’ 7 As the men were leaving, Jesus began to talk to the people about John, ‘What did you go out into the desert to see? A reed swaying in the breeze? No? 8 Then what did you go out to see? A man wearing fine clothes? Look, those who wear fine clothes are to be found in palaces. 9 Then what did you go out for? To see a prophet? Yes, I tell you, and much more than a prophet: 10 he is the one of whom scripture says: Look, I am going to send my messenger in front of you to prepare your way before you. 11 ‘In truth I tell you, of all the children born to women, there has never been anyone greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of Heaven is greater than he.
Today is a wonderful day. Our Lord tells us, “I sent my messenger ahead of me.” Who is that messenger? That would be you and me by virtue of our baptism. We are called to proclaim the coming of Christ. Christ is coming soon as we know. We celebrate Him at Christmas during this time of Emmanuel (God is with us). How do we prepare the way for Him? First, we prepare ourselves. We cannot give what we do not have. I cannot do carpentry work. Why? I can’t use power tools…I’m terrible at it. I don’t have that gift. But we all have the gift to be holy. We clean our souls and fill them with Jesus, and we bring that to other people. How do we tell people? How can the deaf hear us and the blind see us? By seeing Christ in us. We bring the news of Christ by our actions or lack of actions and not by our words. Nobody says, “Please forgive me.” They say, “Yeah, I’m sorry; you know that.”
There is a famous Irish saying, “You do not have to go to every fight you are invited to.” You don’t have to do that. What is deadly to our soul? Sin. Leprosy was a deadly disease back then…a slow killer as is the unrepentant evil in us. Read the Catechism. When we sin, we ask for forgiveness. Do not apologize. It is not a sign of weakness as television tells us. An apology is for using the wrong fork at dinner. I have only one set of forks in my house, so I’m good. However, you don’t have to be like Patsy Cline, “I’m sorry, so sorry.” Shut-up! You hear this all the time, “I misspoke.” No, you lied. You didn’t misspeak. You lied. Name it. Say it. Claim it. You hear all these what I call “moral theology weasel words.” Every sin has a name…so name it. I did pass the Moral Theology course. You ask for forgiveness. “I have sinned,” be it culpably, knowingly, or by omission and just being an ignorant jerk. “I have sinned, and I am sorry. Please forgive me.” This is how we preach the Gospel. You’d be surprised at the look you get on people’s faces.
We preach the gospel; I get to do it here because I’m a priest. But my preaching means nothing if I don’t show it in my actions. That’s what people see. Many times, in the hospital, people have asked me, “Father, will you visit so-and-so? They are dying.” Are they Catholic? “No.” So, I visit the patient and say the Prayer for the Dying Soul. Sometimes nurses will page me and ask that I pray for a patient who is dying. The patients aren’t Catholic. The nurses aren’t Catholic. But because I showed up and visited them they will call me. The rules have changed at Atrium and nursing homes, but I had a couple of moles and spies who would tell me who was sick. Now they can’t do that, but I’m working on a new deal. It takes time to get new sources. People will see you by your actions. We pave the way for the Lord by preparing ourselves first. By preparing our souls first, we prepare the way of the Lord outside of ourselves.
Father’s Reflections:
My first blessing this morning was that I had mince meat pie and jello for breakfast. I’m living every man’s dream. Such is life without a wife. Yesterday we had the funeral for Cornelius Waxmuski, and I told the family that I never knew his first name. We called him “Waxi.” The funeral director informed me that there was a problem at the cemetery and that they needed 10 extra minutes. So, the vehicle procession to the cemetery was slowed down to 10 mph through the city. Nobody beeped their horns. It was fun. We don’t have to wear seat belts in a hearse. So, you get fringe benefits at a funeral. One of the good things about being in a small parish for a long time….you get to know the town and its people. And that is a true blessing. I feel for those priests who have big parishes and fight fires all the time. They go from one explosion to another in what we called in the military, “Quick Reaction Force.”
How will you apply this message to your life? _________________________________________
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The Advent name for God is Emmanuel. We sing it over and over in the familiar hymn, “O come, O come, Emmanuel.” The name means “God is with us” and comes to us from the prophet Isaiah. Matthew’s Gospel reminds us that Jesus was a fulfillment of this prophecy, God with us in the flesh, born a human baby, like us in all things. It’s an echo of the more exalted language of the prologue of John’s Gospel, which tells us that the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us. Scripture scholars tell us that the second half of John’s Greek phrase translates literally as “pitched his tent among us.” This was an image that a first-century, semi-nomadic people would understand. In the Old Testament, God’s presence among the people was often described as a messenger or angel of the Lord. But the revelation of the incarnation is that now it is God himself in our midst and one of us. It’s difficult for us to grasp this concept. Perhaps this is why Matthew and Luke make such a point of describing the baby in the manger visited by shepherds, the child receiving gifts from the magi.
Perhaps this is why we have such a resonance with Christmas. We understand the great gift of life in a newborn child. There’s a purity in a newborn, a sense of both innocence and ancient wisdom, that gives us a glimpse of God. Knowing that God not only knows but experienced what it was to be a human being, composed of blood and flesh and bone, limited by all the things that limit us, should give us patience with our weakness and joy in our strength. In our prayers for help, we can say, “You know what it’s like,” and be confident that he does. But we can also look to the end of the story and know that by being one of us, he was able to raise us up to overcome those limits—and the final limit of death itself. As St. Irenaeus put it so well, “He became human so that we might become divine.”
The holiday season with its hustle and bustle and seemingly endless activities places demands on our bodies as well as our spirits. We can, if we like, imagine Jesus in the busy days of his preaching and teaching and healing ministry. If we do, we may also hear him calling to us and saying, “Come aside and rest for a while.” Because we know that he knows what it is to feel tired and need to be rested and refreshed.
