Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle A

 Matthew 5:17 - 37

Have you ever had an “aha” moment?  Most of us have had a few.  An aha moment is when something you did not understand suddenly becomes clear.  They aren’t too common, if my experience is normal.  I remember one such moment in one of my college philosophy courses.  My professor kept talking about matter and form and of course I understood the world in terms of atoms and molecules.  I was a scientist, after all.  But suddenly it became clear to me what he was talking about, and since then philosophy isn’t that hard to understand.  I’ve seen a couple of my kids through those moments as well.  I seem to recall them happening with algebra homework, or in one case, trigonometry.  That’s what is going on today in our gospel -- Jesus is encouraging us to have “aha” moments.  

The people of Jesus’ time had a bunch of laws.  They were good laws -- Moses in his last speech talked about  the laws of the Jewish people and how all other countries would envy them for their laws.  The laws of course started with the ten commandments and then numerous other laws detailing what to do in different situations.  The Jewish people of Jesus’ time and ours really wanted to live their lives pleasing God.  A rabbi is not the same thing as a priest or minister.  Rabbis primarily are people who you go to when you want to make sure something you are about to do is compatible with God’s law.  The Pharisees were experts at that and in Jesus' time there were something like 630 laws that had been derived from studying the first five books of the bible -- called Torah, which means Law, in Hebrew.  

Jesus, remember, is the fulfillment of Israel’s history.  He is the Son of God who becomes human, and carries out the Father’s will perfectly.  Because he does that, the Father accepts as sons and daughters those of us who become his disciples, who try to apply his teaching, who accept his mercy, who eat his body and blood.  So Jesus is showing us how to live the law.  He is fulfilling the law, telling us how to carry it out perfectly. 

It makes sense that you shall not kill.  It would be hard to live in a society where killing was condoned as a way to settle grievances, or get something you wanted.  And if you want to control a society, you restrict the ability of citizens to kill.  But Jesus is pointing us to a deeper understanding of this law.  It’s not there to keep people from killing each other, primarily; rather it’s there to point us in the direction of being the way we were meant to be -- human beings in Christ’s mold.  If we are angry, or distance ourselves from each other by looking down on them, we are going in the opposite direction.  That’s why reconciliation with my brother or sister is more important than paying my respects to God.  If I’m not reconciled with my neighbor, I’m going in the opposite direction, away from putting on Christ, as Saint Paul puts it.

The same is true regarding adultery.  The purpose of marriage is that a man and a woman become “one flesh” -- and that doesn’t just apply to our romantic lives.  Before original sin came along, and people were the way God meant them to be, Adam and Eve were in no way objects to the other.  John Paul II spends a lot of time talking about the big change that took place with original sin.  Before the sin, it says about our first parents, “They were naked but not ashamed”.  They did not see each other as objects to be possessed, or as means to satisfy an appetite.  And after the fall, God asks Adam why he was hiding, and he replies, “I hid from you because I was naked.”  Adam in his nakedness is now ashamed, ashamed of his sin, ashamed that God sees right through him as it were.  Now being naked always carries the risk of shame, of being an object to someone.  And of course looking at anyone, even your husband or wife, with lust breaks down that spousal relationship you are supposed to have.  

You can see how this sort of thinking applies to divorce as well.  Adultery is first of all dishonoring what marriage is supposed to be all about -- perfecting that relationship God intended.

In Jesus’ time people would make promises and to show how sincere they were, would back up their promises with an oath -- “If I don’t do what I promised, may God make me blind”, something like that.  You may remember Jephtha, one of the judges of Israel, who swore that if he was given victory over his enemies, he would offer in sacrifice the first person who came out to greet him when he returned.  It turned out to be his daughter, and he did.

Jesus is saying that we should live so that everyone will know that whatever we say is the truth.  My word should be as good as the strongest oath.  That’s the way things were supposed to be; that’s the way Jesus lived.  

So today let us look for those ‘aha’ moments -- the Holy Spirit is always there to show us not only what is right and wrong, but to lead us to become more like Christ, the perfect human being who invites us to be perfect as well. 

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle A

 Matthew 5:13 - 16

Some of you have met my youngest granddaughter.  Leila is the proud owner of Fabio, a cat, who was purchased in part with money she was given by a few parishioners at the time of her first communion.  Fabio is rare among cats, because he was blessed by our pastor.  In any event, Leila and her mother recently moved to Belgium from Germany, where she had to enroll in a new school.  Leila is quite fluent in German, but in the new school in Belgium, she is expected to learn french.  Joan and I were on a zoom call not too long ago and I couldn't help but wonder if all this starting over again in a new culture and in a new language was going to be discouraging to her.  But I was wrong.  She informed us that everything was going great -- she was easily the smartest in her class, and she didn't think learning French would be a problem because she already knew two languages.  And she was lucky because she was the only kid from America in her class, and apparently that brought a lot of respect.  And she went on and on about how she could hardly wait till school started the next day.  I suggested that she was probably the most humble child in her class as well, and she readily agreed with me, and then thinking about it she asked her mother, “what’s humble?”  

In our time when we think about humility, we picture someone who is trying hard not to be noticed, someone who walks around looking down at the ground.  And if we think we are humble we prefer not to be noticed.  I had an acquaintance a long time ago who claimed his ambition was to get into a middle management position where he could work unnoticed until retirement.  I thought, what an odd aspiration for a young man with a master’s degree in hospital administration.

Nelson Mandella said that “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate; our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.  It is our light, not our darkness that frightens us.”  We ask ourselves, “Who am I to be brilliant, talented, fabulous?” But who are we not to?  After all, we are children of God.  We are born to manifest the glory of God within us.  Not just some of us, all of us.  

Humility is not self-effacement.  It’s a healthy appreciation of how we really are, and that has to include the fact that we are children of God, given gifts not for ourselves, but for those around us.  Jesus told the story of the talents, and how one servant buried his talent rather than putting it to use.  His master punished him.  But in a sense, not to use our talents as God intends them to be used is punishment in itself.  Next time you meet someone who is loud and obnoxious, or angry all the time, you might wonder if that is because he or she has a talent that is lying there unused, causing deep frustration and displacement.  I’m reminded of a brilliant young physician I met when I first came to this area.  He would get so angry that he would have to get up and move around the room until he calmed down.  Several years later he became the head of his department.  His entire personality changed as he finally had an outlet for his talent of leadership.

Jesus compares his disciples to salt and light.  If you have a box of salt, it’s not much good just sitting there.  It’s only when you begin to use it to season food or preserve meat that it becomes valuable.  If we don’t use our unique talents, our god given charisms, for the sake of others, there is no substitute. If the salt loses its saltiness, you have nothing to make it salty again.  

The same is true of light.  If I own a light and cover it up so no one can see, it’s useless.  But if I put it in a lamp stand, not only can I see, but so can everyone else who is in the room.  

IF you are salt, if you are light, you have no business keeping it to yourself.  It’s there for the world.  

My oldest grandson is kind of like me when I was his age - quiet most of the time, enjoys being by himself, doesn’t seem to care about what other people think.  But he has an amazing talent for music and is making a career of that.  Over the Christmas season he visited us along with his family.  He would sit down at our piano and play Christmas tunes without any music in front of him -- all from memory, with the accompaniment being made up as he played.  He doesn't say much, but it seemed that he was happiest when he was sharing his talent with all of us.  

Jesus asks that each of us set forth our gifts for others to share.  He promises that when we do so we will glorify our heavenly father.  To hide our gifts, to not be the salt and light we are meant to be, will never bring us happiness; in fact, will probably leave us frustrated and unhappy.  To be the salt of the earth and the light of the world, to use the gifts of our heavenly father for the sake of his kingdom, will always bring us joy.  So today, let us ask ourselves what is keeping us from salting the earth and lighting the world?  What is holding us back from sharing our talents given to us by our heavenly father for his glory?

Third Sunday of Ordinary Time, cycle A

Matthew 4:12 - 23

I talked with an 87 year old man over at the nursing home the other day.  He is Lutheran.  He told me about his minister who had been a successful accountant until he was 35, and then decided to answer a call to the ministry.  He went to the seminary and was ordained a Lutheran minister, and now takes care of a congregation in a nearby town.  When he answered the call, he was married and had young children.  I don’t know all the details.  The thing is the man I spoke to had a revival of his own faith, and says that the congregation grew and became more enthusiastic, all under the influence of the minister, who is now in his sixties.  The point is, he didn’t have to abruptly change careers.  He didn’t have to decrease his income and accept a lower pay for the rest of his career.  There is nothing wrong with being an accountant.  So what happened?

I think we get some insight in today’s gospel.  We have different stories about the calling of the first apostles.  In John, the Baptist points out Jesus to his disciples as the Lamb of God, and Andrew and another disciple go up to Jesus who says, “What do you want?” and they say, “we want to see where you live”,  Jesus replies, “Come and see”.  Not long after that, Andrew goes to Peter and says, “ We have found the Messiah''.  And Peter goes and sees as well, and becomes a disciple.  In Luke, Jesus works a miracle.  He tells Peter to cast his nets once again after a night of no success.  Peter does so and catches more fish than he can handle.  He falls to his knees and says, “Lord, depart from me, for I am a sinful man!” And Jesus says, “Follow me and i will make you a fisher of men.”  And Matthew and Mark tell the story you heard today -- Jesus simply walks by and says, “Come after me and I will make you fishers of men.”  And they do, and so do James and John.  We don’t know what Jesus said to them -- it just says he called them. 

Some people try to make sense of these different stories by saying that the story of John was a call to be a disciple, and the second call, to be “fishers of men'', was an invitation to be an apostle.  That makes sense, of course.  Theoretically, all of us are disciples in one way another.  A disciple is someone who commits himself or herself to following the teachings of a master.  Our Church transmits the teachings of Jesus and because we try to follow what he taught - the ten commandments, the eight beatitudes, our prayer life, our sacrifices, our charitable actions -- to the extent that we imitate Christ, we are disciples.  In Jesus’ time throughout the Roman world, there were little congregations of a master and his disciples; in some cases the effort to imitate the master involved wearing the same clothing, trying to speak with the same accent, growing a beard just like the master -- and oddly enough, that’s what we are supposed to be doing as well, that’s why we receive Holy Communion -- by eating the body and drinking the blood of our savior, we pray that he will transform us into other Christs, adopted sons and daughters of his father. 

But it appears that Peter and probably Andrew, James and John were being asked to take another step, and to become apostles.  A disciple imitates the master.  An apostle is someone who tries to win other disciples for the master.  An apostle wants to see the master’s influence spread, and does what he can to achieve that.  If you go to your bible, you will see that Peterand John boldly preached in the temple after Pentecost.  We don’t hear much about James except in Paul’s epistles.  And we hear almost nothing about Andrew after he introduces Peter to Jesus.  James, John and Peter left some writings as well.  John, a lot of theology; Peter, theology and practical advice; James a short note about practical matters.  But we only have legends about Andrew.

The Lutheran pastor began as a disciple, but somewhere felt called to be an apostle, enough so that he made a major change in his life, as did the four apostles we hear about today.  When Jesus preaches that we should repent, that means, change the way we think, because the kingdom of heaven is at hand.  Our four disciples show the nearness of the kingdom by their action, their casting off the old and taking on the new.  

We are all disciples.  Some of us are called to be apostles.  You don’t have to be ordained.  All you need is to be sensitive to unrest in your heart, a desire to see that more people know Jesus and have the opportunity to be disciples.  If the kingdom is at hand, and it is, maybe you are someone who is called to make a break in your life, to change  the way you think, to give at least some of your energy to winning disciples for Jesus.  The Lutheran minister who changed the life of the man I visited heard the call of Jesus.  In a parish like ours, Jesus is calling many of us to become apostles.  Listen for his call and if you hear it, follow him and don’t look back.  

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle A

I’m not a very musical sort; even though my wife is a skilled organist and pianist. Our kids all took piano or violin lessons, but nothing stuck too much.  My youngest daughter and my son both did well enough to play as substitute organists.  But that was about it.  They are all grown up now and I don’t see my kids that often.  We all get together once a year and they introduced me to karaoke a few years back.  And my son did an excellent rendition of Billy Joel’s song, “You may be right!” along with some great dance moves.  And my daughter did a picture perfect rendition of “Me and Bobby McGee”.  The point is, up to that moment, I didn’t know that part of their lives.  

John the Baptist was the cousin of Jesus and recognized him before his own birth -- he lept in his mother’s womb, it says.  Later, John refers to Jesus as the one “of whom I am not worthy to untie his sandals.” In the description of John baptizing Jesus, we hear him say, “You should be baptizing me” and Jesus insists that John baptize him because that fulfills what is supposed to happen.  And today, of course, he says, “I did not know him.”   And then, John testifies that Jesus is the Son of God, having witnessed the Spirit coming down upon him and remaining.  And when you line everything up chronologically, you see that even when John is in prison awaiting his execution, his knowledge of Jesus seems to waver a bit, when he sends his disciples to ask, “Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?” 

I think I’m a lot like John.  When I was a little kid Jesus was kind of like Superman, without the flashy costume.  Who wouldn’t want to walk on water and heal people and rise from the dead?  When I got to college, a good Catholic college, I took courses in comparative religion, which got me to thinking Jesus is kind of like Buddah or Mohammed; and I took a course in scripture in which I learned that the gospel writers were not exactly writing history -- By the time John wrote his gospel the church had been around for 70 years or so, and were telling the story of Jesus to reflect their theology.  A protestant friend asked whether I have a personal relationship with Jesus?  I don’t quite know what that means, and if it means I speak to Him, I do; but if it means he speaks back to me, I’m not sure.  Down through the years there have been times when I could feel his presence.  In my old age I take it on faith that he is my only hope and I throw myself on his mercy.  So I’m like John, and maybe you are also.  And I think that’s not such a bad thing.  We need to explore our relationship to Jesus.  He said many times that our salvation depended upon faith in him, not just agreeing to his teachings, not knowing the bible backwards and forwards, not even leading a good and blameless life.  He said, “He who believes in me will not die”.  So anyone who follows Christ needs to struggle with who he is to me, who he is to you.  John the Baptist struggled, I struggle.  

I’ve always been a Catholic, a practicing Catholic.  I didn’t fall away in college or during my career.  I’ve missed mass on Sunday twice, once when I was about eight and my parents had to leave early Sunday morning for a trip they had to make -- and you could only fulfill your obligation on Sunday in those days -- and the other time when I was in Puerto Rico and was suffering from Sun poisoning and a lack of English speakers in my hotel.  And long ago I decided that the Catholic Church would be my guide; it would tell me what Jesus wanted of me.  It isn’t a matter of feeling, of sensing the presence of God, although that has happened now and then.  The Catholic church is the basic way I relate to Jesus Christ -- it’s the organization he founded to pass on his teachings, to give us access to his power to forgive sins, to make it possible for me to be born again, to have my sins forgiven.  I believe the Church is the body of Christ.  So today is a good day to look at our relationship with Jesus.  It should be changing, it should be expanding, just like a relationship with anyone we love.  And we Catholics have a wonderful guide to that relationship in our Church -- Despite flawed leaders, the Church is a miracle.

Do I believe you have to be Catholic to get to heaven?  No, and neither does the Church teach that. Jesus told us that he is the way, the truth and the life.  He told us that if we want to have life, we have to eat his flesh and drink his blood.  Saint Peter proclaimed, “Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved.”  What the Church does teach is that everyone who gets to heaven is saved through Jesus Christ; and that the Church has all that is necessary for salvation.  This week think about your own relationship to Jesus as well as your relationship to the Church he founded.  

Epiphany 2023

Matthew 2:1-12

Herod called all the chief priests and scribes of the people.  He asked them where the Christ was to be born.  They knew!  It was all there in the prophecies!  You can still find those prophecies and more, in your bible.  What’s more is that they knew approximately when.  The Book of Daniel kind of lays it out.  So the religious leaders of the Jewish people knew where and when the Chtrist was to be born.  And yet they stayed in Jerusalem.  I think we are kind of like that as well.  Most of us are comfortable with respect to our religion.  We come in all flavors -- some of us barely get to Church once or twice a year.  Some have dropped out completely.  Some of us never miss a weekend liturgy.  I can even recognize a few daily mass goers.  The point is, how do we shake up our spiritual lives? How are we going to make progress this year, real progress?  Do we want to be in the same shape next year as we are now?

The wise men can show us a few things.  First, they put themselves out.  We think they probably occupied the same positions in Persia as did the scribes and priests in Jerusalem.  They were primarily advisers, maybe astrologers, we don’t know -- but magi were relied upon to give sound advice and the successful ones probably lived pretty well.  But these magi based upon their own scriptures and calculations about the stars also knew where and when the Christ would be born, and they left their comfortable homes and crossed over into foreign lands.  If we want to progress in our spiritual lives, we need to do the same thing. 

Another thing about the magi is that they weren’t afraid to ask for help.  They had learned from their own sources approximately where and when the Messiah would manifest himself, but they sought help in figuring out the last bit.  They went to the local experts.  If we are going to do something about our spiritual lives, if we want to make progress, we need to consult people who can help us.  And all of us can use help.  It doesn’t even have to be an expert.  If we begin regularly talking about our spiritual lives with a confidant, we’ll begin to see where we could do better, and even what we need to do to do better.  Husbands and wives should be talking about their spiritual lives with each other.  Good friends should be helping each other get to heaven.

When the magi found the Christ child they were overjoyed, it says; they prostrated themselves -- that meant they got down on their knees.  They recognized the holiness in that Holy Family.  There are holy people among us, and you might know some of them.  But there is holiness in everyone, and the more we learn to recognize that, the more sensitive we become to holiness.  Great spiritual progress will come when we train ourselves to recognize the holiness in each other.  

New Years is a time for resolutions.  I hope we all will make a resolution to do something to stir up our spiritual lives.  There are many things we can do.  We can try to build something into our daily or weekly schedule -- perhaps begin a program of spiritual reading, of studying scripture; we might decide to say the rosary every day -- or even one decade of the rosary.  Certainly there are other prayerful practices that come to mind praying all or part of the daily prayers of the church.  As a deacon, I’m supposed to pray those prayers.  In the olden days I had to spend 110 dollars on the four books that contain the year’s worth of prayers, and if I went on a trip I’d have to remember to bring the appropriate book.  Nowadays I have an app on my cell phone that allows me to pray the appropriate prayers.  

But while all these things are good, probably the best thing you can do to grow spiritually is to join with others who are trying to grow as well.  We’ve got plenty of opportunities here in our parish.  The Knights of Columbus, the St. Joseph Society, the Saint Mary’s Ladies Guild, Food for the Soul -- Loaves and Fishes -- and many more organizations.  If you are involved with other people in service to God’s people, your spiritual growth is assured.  

The magi were warned in a dream not to return to Herod and they returned to their home by another way.  If we set out to grow in our spiritual lives, we can expect to be changed, we can count on some discomfort.  We know that Satan is the enemy of spiritual growth and will do what he can to make it hard for us to break out of our habits.  But when we encounter obstacles we should rejoice, because God will help us overcome them, and it shows we are on the right path.  So I hope that today you will make a new year’s resolution to do something so that next year this time you can look back and see that you have grown spiritually.  

Mary, Mother of God 2022

Today we celebrate Mary in her role as Mother of God.  Protestant bible scholars have a very hard time with the veneration of Mary common to Catholic and Orthodox churches.  They may agree, along with the First Council of Ephesus, that Mary is the mother of God, because obviously if Jesus is both God and man and was born from Mary, and you can’t separate his goddess from his humanity, she’s his mother.  But it stops there.  In fact the noted scholar John MacArthur argues that Jesus began going about his father’s business at the age of 12 and when he addressed Mary as “woman” at the wedding feast of Canaan and on the cross, he was indicating  that his time of being subject to his mother was over, and he was now entirely engaged with his Father in heaven.  And he’s right, if the only authority you trust is the bible.  Of course we know as does any bible scholar, that the bible itself was put together by the Catholic Church sometime in the third century.  Books of the bible were accepted if they did not disagree with church teaching, if they could be traced back to the first generation of Christians, and if they were venerated by most of the Christian world.  The gospel of Thomas, for example, has a bit of heresy;  the Gospel of Barnabas was clearly written in the late second century.  So they, and many other writings, were deemed not part of scripture.  

By the time the bible was put together, Christians had developed devotion to Mary.  Protestants who question Marian devotion by Catholics laugh at the idea that Mary can influence God because of the one scene in the bible where it seems she changed Jesus’ mind -- the wedding feast at Cana.  But early Christian devotion was more attuned to the angel who declared her “most favored” or Elizabeth, who proclaimed her “Mother of my Lord'' or even Mary herself who said, “My soul magnifies the Lord” and “all generations will call me blessed”.  People in the early church weren’t asking favors, they were standing in awe of the person God himself had selected to give him humanity, to grow him in her body, to nurse him from her breasts, to teach him to walk and talk and innumerable other things -- and yes, to change a diaper here and there, and wipe a nose and kiss a booboo.  And the church went on to discern, very early, that Mary was free of original sin from her conception -- partly because of the angel’s proclamation -- full of grace, the Lord is with you, blessed are you among women.  To bible-only Protestants, these words mean little, and they grudgingly accept “blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus”. 

Can Mary influence God, get him to change his mind, persuade him to work a miracle?  We have some prayers that seem to say this.  We pray that way sometimes.  But we know deep in our hearts that nothing can happen that is not in some way part of God’s plan for the world.  No one understands whether Mary or any saint, or for that matter you and I, can alter God’s plan in the least, and just as Mary concluded her own encounter with the angel with the words “I am the handmaid of the Lord, do unto me according to his will, our prayers must always end, as Jesus taught us, with the words “Thy will be done”.   Can Mary change God’s mind?  No.  Can Mary help us to see his plan more clearly?  I think so.  And can God, who stands outside of time and space, plan from the moment of creation to answer prayers Mary will make in the future, sure.  However it works, keep asking Mary for her help.  When you get a positive result, you will glorify her, and that’s something God wants from you.  He wants all generations to call her blessed.

Look at our della robbia.  In the upper left corner Mary encounters the angel Gabriel at the Annunciation.  In the lower left, she meets with Elizabeth.  In the lower right, she and Joseph learn of Jesus’ mission when they find him in the temple in Jerusalem.  In the upper right, Jesus is telling the beloved disciple, maybe John the apostle, but most certainly the beloved disciple, who in John’s gospel always stands for you and I -- that he is her son, and she is his mother.  And it says that the beloved disciple henceforth took her into his own home.  And finally, in the center is Mary, the woman clothed in the sun, the queen of the universe, looking out on her children.  

So bring Mary into your prayer life if you don’t already.  And if you do, don’t let it get to be a rote habit.  The wonderful thing about the rosary is that it’s always fresh if we look at those twenty mysteries as telling the story of Jesus' time on earth and the indispensable role of Mary.  Mary offered herself to God and the Holy Spirit conceived Jesus in her being.  And if we do the same the spirit will do the same for us.  So ask Mary to help us accept the Holy Spirit as she did, so that you will also be a true son or daughter of God the Father.

Christmas 2022

As I get older, it’s harder for me to remember the joy I felt on Christmas morning when I was a child.  When my children were little some of that joy returned as I watched them get excited as they opened their gifts; and then the day came when it was obvious that giving them money would be more welcome than trying to pick out something for a young adult.  Then the grandchildren came along and we got another vicarious taste of Christmas joy -- but they are now also at the age where money is preferred.  So I guess I’ll have to wait for a great grandchild to see that joy once again.

But I remember one Christmas that wasn’t a very happy one.  I had seen a model gas station in the toy store, and you could take your toy car and pretend to fill up the gas tank or check the tire pressure.  But the really neat thing was that you could put the car in the garage and turn a crank and the car would be lifted up -- just like the lift in a real gas station.  I’m sure I drove my parents crazy talking about all the wonderful things I could do if only I had that gas station.  My sister Diane, on the other hand, wanted a cat.  I think I was five and she was three at the time.  Cats were easy to come by; there were a lot of them on my uncle’s farm and they were semi-tame.  So on Christmas morning as we left the house for church, I noticed under the tree a wrapped present that looked a lot like a gas station, and there, in a little cage was a kitten with a bow around his neck.  I don’t remember anything about the sermon for that particular Sunday.  When we got home, it was time to unwrap the presents.  The cat had beaten us to it.  He had escaped from his cage, torn the wrapping paper off the gas station, and not being overly bright must have mistaken the gas station for a sandbox.  My mother, seeing my distress, tried cleaning the gas station, but since it was made of relatively cheap cardboard, it ended up destroying much of its charm.  So I was pretty despondent until I decided to try the lift mechanism on my toy car.  That brightened my spirits for a while until the mechanism broke.  My sister, after petting the cat a few times, turned her attention to her doll.  I don’t remember what happened to the cat.  I suspect that my parents told my sister that he’d be a lot happier with the cats on my uncle’s farm, and she understood the logic of that.  

Does my story have anything to do with Christmas?  As you know there are several gospels that are available for Christmas; most tell some of the story of Mary and Joseph and the shepherds.  I read the selection designated for Christmas day, found in the Gospel of John.  In the Tridentine rite, which was what I grew up hearing, this was read at the end of every Mass, after the people were dismissed and after the final blessing.  Pope Paul V made the Tridentine rite mandatory in the Western church in 1570, and the Last Gospel was meant to connect what the congregation had just witnessed with creation and the mystery of the incarnation.  With every Mass we believe the Word becomes flesh and dwells among us, and we have seen his glory when Father raises the body and blood of Christ at the time of consecration.  But look at this beautiful gospel.  In the very beginning the Word was God. Without him nothing came to be.  He brought life, and this life was the light of humanity, shining in darkness.  And to those who did accept him, he gave power to become children of God, born not by our choice but God’s.  

There’s a national park in South Dakota called Jewel Cave.  You can go down there with a guide, and the climax of the trip is when all the lights are turned off and you experience a complete absence of light.  It’s quite impressive.  After a minute or so, the guide turns on his flashlight and it’s just enough light to bounce around the crystals that make up the walls of the cave.  That’s what I always imagine when I read this gospel.  Jesus is light, but there is still darkness.  While we are on this side of the grave, there will always be darkness, but for those who look for it, there will be enough light to make our way; and we can choose to go deeper into the darkness as well, instead of moving toward the light.  And the best way to follow the light is to put yourself in his presence as often as you can; and his presence, we are guaranteed, is in the Eucharist at every Mass.  John tells us that no one has ever seen God; but the only Son, who is at the Father’s side, who is at the manger 2000 years ago, who is on the cross on calvary, and who is here in the miracle of the Eucharist, has revealed him; he is the light that lights the darkness.

I remember that Christmas when I was five -- probably the darkest Christmas I’d ever experienced -- up until my grandparents came over delivering their presents.  I got a scale model Ford Sedan that you could wind up and it would speed around the room.  My day got a lot brighter.  And I still have that toy after 75 years. A light always shines in darkness.