Friday of the First Week of Advent

 Lectionary: 179

On that day the deaf shall hear
the words of a book;
And out of gloom and darkness,
the eyes of the blind shall see.
The lowly will ever find joy in the LORD,
and the poor rejoice in the Holy One of Israel.

Everyone, I suppose, has some notion of what heaven and the Kingdom of God must be like. We hear of angels, saints with halos, and streets of gold. Personally I've dreamed of a good bicycle with impenetrable tires and an inexhaustible credit card. 

The scriptures give us rather different scenarios, as in today's passages from Isaiah and Saint Matthew. There we hear of the deaf hearing, the blind seeing, and the impoverished rejoicing in the Lord. These are the things we should expect to find in heaven. As one who remembers having no running water in the house, has always worn glasses, and never heard well, these readings speak to me. They call me back to basics. 

They also remind me that, "There are more things in heaven and earth... than are dreamt of in your philosophy." as Hamlet said to his friend Horatio. 

Recently, when I recite "Our Father who art in heaven" I wonder at the majesty those words suggest. No one was surprised when Yuri Gagarin reported that he found "neither angels nor God" when he reached the edge of space. (Apparently he said nothing like that; his atheistic bosses misquoted him.) American school children, of course, knew in the 1950's about the spherical earth, our thin envelope of atmosphere, and immeasurable space. 

But still we stand in wonder at the enormous breadth, length, height, and depth of God's glory. To our endless delight, it is far beyond human imagination. And, frankly, like the blind men in Matthew's gospel, we can't stop talking about it. 

Having set into Advent with its promised and glorious destination, let us be disciplined by the Word of God, talk about that, and not be distracted by the world's cacophony. 

Thursday of the First Week of Advent

 Lectionary: 178

A strong city have we;
he sets up walls and ramparts to protect us.
Open up the gates
to let in a nation that is just,
one that keeps faith.
A nation of firm purpose you keep in peace;
in peace, for its trust in you.
Trust in the LORD forever!
For the LORD is an eternal Rock.

I haven't come to the end of the book yet, and so I'm not sure where the author is going with his very personal story, but he seems to have faith in God after an intensely personal search for proof of God's existence. It was a reassuring, comforting, and encouraging midnight moment on an empty ocean beach far from home.  

But he was coming from one of those American religions that isolates believers from one another and tells them they're not saved unless they have had a personal experience of God. I suppose that if you're really curious about who will be saved and who will not be saved, that's sort of an answer. But it's a question you should not ask in the first place, and have no right to an answer. 

Roman Catholics come to faith in God as members of the Church which Jesus Christ founded. As Scripture says, 

"...He sets up walls and ramparts to protect us."

We remember the long history of God's fidelity to His Church -- particularly to the saints and martyrs. That story is more credible than anyone's personal experience, although we have those reassuring moments also. But without the Church to tell us what they mean, we'd be lost.  As Saint John said, "test every spirit." 

God has built a nation of firm purpose which he keeps in peace. This strong city comprises people of all nations, ethnic groups, and languages. There is more variety of every human characteristic than anyone can imagine, and yet we share one faith in the LORD who spoke to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and revealed himself through his only begotten Son, whom we know as Jesus Christ. 

This Eternal Rock is the foundation of our faith. 

Memorial of Saint Francis Xavier, Priest

Lectionary: 177

Great crowds came to him,
having with them the lame, the blind, the deformed, the mute,
and many others.

 Is  it possible not to see what Jesus saw?  Is it possible that our hearts are not moved with pity at the same spectacle? The blind can see and are moved by such sights; and yet many people are not. 

They placed them at his feet, and he cured them. 

The crowds were amazed when they saw the mute speaking, the deformed made whole, the lame walking, and the blind able to see, and they glorified the God of Israel.

We used to call these "miracle stories," but "Science" -- who is he anyway? -- dismissed miracles as unacceptable behavior on the part of a God who should not exist. So we call them signs and wonders. Which is a better expression as they signify the presence, authority, and generosity of the Lord God of Heaven and Earth, who has more presence and authority, and is far more wonderful than any science.  

But the real problem with science is that, despite its seeing what Jesus saw, it doesn't care. Science makes many claims and demands much, but it owes nothing. Jesus and his people can never be satisfied with that. Seeing "the lame, the blind, the deformed, the mute, and many others," they are compelled by pity to act. 

In his recent Apostolic Exhortation, Pope Leo XIV spoke about charity with the heart of a true American as he quoted Pope Francis:  

"...it is essential to insist on this path to holiness, for 'in this call to recognize him in the poor and the suffering, we see revealed the very heart of Christ, his deepest feelings and choices, which every saint seeks to imitate.'”

Pope Francis and Pope Leo recognize this path to holiness as both necessary and very long. 

We have a saying, "Well begun is half done;" but a good beginning can be deceptive. The path to holiness is as long as human history, which began in prehistoric times and may stretch into an immeasurable future. This journey requires the supernatural commitment which only the Holy Spirit can give us.

We must make progress but we should not expect progress. Or at least none that we can measure. The best action plans may have a goal but the Deadline has not been revealed. 

The work is good, and that is our satisfaction. When Jesus finished his work that day, 

"They all ate and were satisfied. They picked up the fragments left over–seven baskets full."

 

Tuesday of the First Week of Advent

  Lectionary: 176

Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Spirit and said,
"I give you praise, Father, Lord of heaven and earth,
for although you have hidden these things
from the wise and the learned
you have revealed them to the childlike.

Only the more devout can rejoice when the Church reenters a season of penance. Anyone can be happy about the approach of Christmas, and have a thousand different reasons for doing so, with as many recipes, decorations, and songs. But it takes a childlike Catholic to be delighted when they're reminded that it's time to go to confession. 

Perhaps the delight is like the doctor's lollipop that causes a child stuck by a hypodermic to stop crying and reach for the sweet. But it's sweeter. It's remembering the Child who is born to save me from sin and death, from humiliation and frustration, from resentment and remorse, from all the ridiculous things that caused me to forget that God is Still in Charge. 

Recently we celebrated the feast of Christ the King of the Universe. I thought of it one day as I was grumbling about something. (I don't remember what.) How could anything be wrong once the One who was slain has taken his seat at the right hand of God? Whatever it is, or was, that I was complaining about -- is not important. 

As the disciples returned from their first missionary journey and reported, “Lord, even the demons are subject to us because of your name," he laughed and said, "I saw Satan fall like lightning from the sky."

He might have said, "We are on the way and the end is in sight!" 

Advent does that to us. We have only to acknowledge and repent of our sins. If that worries anyone, they should know their sins are only idle billboards on the Highway to Heaven. 

Monday of the First Week of Advent

Lectionary: 175

He who remains in Zion
and he who is left in Jerusalem
Will be called holy:
every one marked down for life in Jerusalem.
When the LORD washes away
the filth of the daughters of Zion,
And purges Jerusalem's blood from her midst
with a blast of searing judgment...

The great scripture scholar, Walter Brueggemann spoke of two strains within the Old Testament, the priestly and the Mosaic. It helps to remember, when we read the prophets Ezekiel and Isaiah, that they were priests. They had a great interest in proper worship of the LORD, and little patience for careless, half-hearted ritualism. The Mosaic strain certainly could not disagree with their carefulness, but made allowance for human frailty and fallibility. 

In today's first reading, we hear Isaiah promise that those who remain in Jerusalem on the Day of Judgment will be holy. Now I know people who will say they are just as good as anyone although they don't go to church regularly. "Fine, fine," I might reply, "but I'm not making any bets on how broad the Lord's mercy might be. I'll play conservative in that game."

Nor will I apologize for believing that the practice of religion is more than a good idea. It is necessary. If God says I should do it, I want to do it, and con spirito, energico, animato, and brioso! That is, with spirit!

As I understand -- and I know that Hegelians will disagree because Hegelians disagree about everything -- the great philosopher Hegel taught there were three principles, or arenas, of the human spirit: philosophy, aesthetics, and religion. Each has its own appeal to the human heart, and provides much that is necessary and valuable to human development. 

However, he said, religion is not really necessary; and God -- although there is a God -- is not nearly as close as traditional religions have supposed. In fact, there's no solid proof that God cares about humans at all. Aesthetics -- that is, the arts -- can readily fill the vacuum for those who practice no religion; for, as Keats said, "A thing of beauty is a joy forever." 

Now I know that's putting words into the mouth of one of Europe's greatest philosophers but I am also sure many people would agree with that. They don't need religion. And they're as good as anyone who does, and better than some! 

Unfortunately, in our time, philosophy has atrophied into science; and many scientists never question the philosophical roots of their beliefs. This, despite the fact that many philosophers have moved on, abandoning the scientists' search for certainty. They don't suppose there is anything like truth, much less certainty of knowing the truth.

Many poets and artists have also lost faith in the eternal value of their art. Since they admit of no God who might bestow an everlasting value upon their creativity, they direct their work at a select few, aficionados. Their work is only good for those who appreciate them, which may be an audience of one. And that one soon loses interest in their own work. 

"The moving finger writes; and, having writ, moves on."

Which is what happens when thinking people abandon religion and our belief that God has often revealed himself in this world and in human history. Their genius meanders pointlessly in every direction but always claims it's making progress. Progress toward what exactly? 

A world without poverty? 

As if.... 

A world without sin? 

Are you kidding me? 

Sin is more real than the sun and the moon. Those who remain in Jerusalem know that. We have no illusion about our own sins, or those of others, or about the mess that aimless progress has made of our Mother Earth. 

Advent invites us to return to the Holy City and the Temple where we encounter our God and hear his voice. 

Then will the LORD create,

over the whole site of Mount Zion

and over her place of assembly,

A smoking cloud by day

and a light of flaming fire by night.

For over all, the LORD's glory will be shelter and protection:

shade from the parching heat of day,

refuge and cover from storm and rain.

We need God to save us. And he intends to do that.

 

First Sunday of Advent

Lectionary: 1

For our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed;
the night is advanced, the day is at hand.
Let us then throw off the works of darkness
and put on the armor of light;
let us conduct ourselves properly as in the day....

On this first Sunday of Advent, we hear the first readings of a three year cycle of readings; and the Gospel comes from the first book of the New Testament, the Gospel according to Saint Matthew. As we return to our beginnings,  I think of a particular Aramaic word which appears in the New Testament. Jesus, his family and disciples spoke Aramaic. Some of the oldest stories in the Gospels remember the Lord speaking Aramaic: he said, Talitha cum when he healed the daughter of Jairus; Ephphatha, when he enabled a deaf and dumb man to speak; Abba, when he prayed; and when he died on Golgatha, Eloi, eloi, lama sabachthani.

The Aramaic word Maranatha appears in Saint Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians (1 Cor 16:22).. The Apostle would have learned it when he joined the Church in Jerusalem. We're not sure how Maranatha translates in English. It might be a plea for mercy, as in "Come, Lord!" Or it might be a shouted greeting of the Good News; meaning, "The Lord has come!" 

I like that ambiguity because it describes our feelings about Advent. Should I say, “The Lord has come to save us?” Or, “The Lord will come to save us?” Advent reminds us that we await the second coming of the Lord much as the Jews waited for the first coming of the Messiah. Advent reminds us that we must be eager and anxious until our Savior returns with angelic powers to set things right.

In today’s Gospel Jesus urges us not to act the way everyone else does. As disaster is about to fall, the world goes about its business as if nothing is happening. 

In those days before (Noah’s) flood,

they were eating and drinking,

marrying and giving in marriage,

up to the day that Noah entered the ark.

They did not know (what was coming) until the flood came and carried them all away.

He also reminds us of how unpredictable catastrophes can be: 

Two men will be out in the field;

one will be taken, and one will be left.

Two women will be grinding at the mill;

one will be taken, and one will be left.

We have seen arbitrary, unexpected, undeserved tragedies strike suddenly. A tornado destroys one house and leaves a neighboring house untouched. Passengers in a car die when their careless driver survives. I knew a fellow who was walking with a buddy on a rural country road. Suddenly, a car came over the hill and killed one of them, leaving the other alone, shaken but uninjured. It’s not fair, we might say. But life is unfair, and often arbitrary. 

Jesus uses these familiar stories to warn us to be ready at any time to stand before the Judgment Seat of God. 

For you do not know on which day your Lord will come.

Be sure of this: if the master of the house

had known the hour of night when the thief was coming,

he would have stayed awake

and not let his house be broken into.

So too, you also must be prepared,

for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come."

Nor do we have the power to change the way things are. We may expect our presidents, governors, and legislators to change things but, like Pharaoh the King of Egypt, they are controlled by spiritual powers – by thrones, dominions, principalities, and powers; – invisible forces they cannot manage or discuss.

The world's way of doing Christmas wants to discourage us from thinking, speaking, or praying about such matters. “Don’t worry about it!” they say. Nor should we wait for anything, much less salvation! Just throw out your better judgment and buy gifts, food, drinks, and decorations. You may regret not having stuff that was right there at your fingertips when you should have bought it. And now the sale is over, the prices have gone up, and you have saved neither your money nor your soul! That kind of anxiety sells stuff; that’s why they give us sales. Act now, tomorrow may be too late.  

God and his Church give us something else. Faith, peace. contentment, concern for justice and mercy, daily prayer and meditation, sorrow for sins, penance, and atonement, and a History of Salvation with a promise of everlasting joy: These things don’t move mountains of merchandise but they do move mountains of trouble.  

Saint Paul reminds us,

Brothers and sisters:

You know the time;

it is the hour now for you to awake from sleep.

For our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed;

the night is advanced, the day is at hand.

Let us then throw off the works of darkness

and put on the armor of light;

let us conduct ourselves properly as in the day,

not in orgies and drunkenness,

not in promiscuity and lust,

not in rivalry and jealousy.

But put on the Lord Jesus Christ,

and make no provision for the desires of the flesh.

Today we begin the Season of Advent with the ancient, eager prayers of the Church. The Earth needs a savior; we need salvation; we cannot do it ourselves. “Maranatha; Come Lord Jesus; Come to save us.”

Advent tells us that we have been saved, and that we’re not yet saved. So long as we live in this distracted, misguided, and dangerous world we must follow Joseph and Mary into the silence of Bethlehem. We must not be comfortable with the way things are. But we can hear and believe the Good News. And pray with the first Christians in Jerusalem in a word they understood, and we know in our hearts: Maranatha; Come Lord Jesus.

Saturday of the Thirty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 508

Be vigilant at all times
and pray that you have the strength
to escape the tribulations that are imminent
and to stand before the Son of Man."

Anyone who supposes that belief in the Lord sets them on Easy Street has not read the scriptures or any lives of the saints. We know that Jesus was sorely tried as he approached Jerusalem. Like Daniel in today's first reading, he found his spirit anguished within its covering of flesh, and was terrified by the visions of his mind.

"Welcome to the human condition!" he might say to us, although we thought we knew something about it. We knew, but hoped we were wrong. We thought it shouldn't be this hard. 

Advent in this age of consumption is an especially trying time for the faithful. Like Edgar Allen Poe, we ponder over quaint and curious volumes of forgotten lore during this bleak December while our culture aspires to gaiety. Those ancient tomes of the Bible, pulled off the shelf or recovered from the night stand, remind us of our weakness and persistent habit of sin. Despite the saving and wonderful works of God in which he demonstrates enormous authority and power to deliver us out of slavery and provide for us under the most trying circumstances, we want to do it ourselves in a world that's not half so difficult. 

We love to say -- and often do say -- "Thanks, God! But we can handle it from here!" And then with a cheerful nod and smiling salute we amble into trouble. Things never work out the way they're supposed to. 

Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy

from carousing and drunkenness

and the anxieties of daily life,

and that day catch you by surprise like a trap.

For that day will assault everyone

who lives on the face of the earth.

When we take off the man-made goggles which skew reality in our preferred ways and see ourselves as we are and reality as it is, we also find the saving presence of God. We hear his voice, "I am with you always." It is that same consistent message we heard in the wilderness of Sinai, and throughout our history. 

Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer,

you shall cry for help, and he will say: “Here I am!”

If you remove the yoke from among you,

the accusing finger, and malicious speech;

If you lavish your food on the hungry

and satisfy the afflicted;

Then your light shall rise in the darkness,

and your gloom shall become like midday;

Then the LORD will guide you always

and satisfy your thirst in parched places,

will give strength to your bones

And you shall be like a watered garden,

like a flowing spring whose waters never fail. (Isaiah 58:9-11)

 

Friday of the Thirty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 507

Jesus told his disciples a parable.
"Consider the fig tree and all the other trees.
When their buds burst open,
you see for yourselves and know that summer is now near;
in the same way, when you see these things happening,
know that the Kingdom of God is near.

As the Lord walked from city to town to village and into the countryside, he certainly encountered every kind of weather: pleasant and unpleasant, depressing and invigorating, I know little about the climate of ancient Israel, but I know that I have spent much of my life beneath the shelter of a roof, and within a climate-controlled enclosure of four walls. Nor were my floors of dirt. I live a sheltered life. So I might not appreciate the change of seasons nor the buds bursting open with as much pleasure as the peripatetic preacher. I am glad to see the approach of summer, but the coming of autumn and winter doesn't trouble me. In fact, from within the comfort of an automobile, I enjoy the four seasons. 

Despite my disability, I am glad to hear these familiar words about the fig tree again; they remind me that Advent is upon us, and I frankly prefer Advent to Christmas. "The Kingdom of God is near." 

Daniel the Prophet, as we hear in the first reading, "...desired to see what you see, but did not see it, and to hear what you hear, but did not hear it.” (Luke 10:24) In Advent, we join the company of prophets and kings who... 

"died in faith. They did not receive what had been promised but saw it and greeted it from afar and acknowledged themselves to be strangers and aliens on earth."

Everyone who awaits the Second Coming of Christ soon discovers they are strangers and aliens on the earth. When divorce, abortion, and suicide become socially acceptable the world becomes strange and we're unwelcome in our native land. 

Hopefully, now that Thanksgiving has passed, we are prepared to enter Advent with a spirit of penance and eager welcome. We still need salvation and the cacophonous spectacle of what-they-call-Christmas will arouse in our hearts a desperate appeal for the appearance of the Savior. 

Come Lord Jesus! 

Thanksgiving Day 2025

 Lectionary: 943-947

Where are the other nine? 
Has none but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God?” 
Then he said to him, “Stand up and go;
your faith has saved you.”

In today's Gospel, we can suppose the other nine were very happy to be healed. Perhaps they immediately returned to their villages and families to celebrate their good fortune, and surely they and their families thanked God for what had happened. 

But this Samaritan was the only one who went the extra mile to personally thank the prophet Messiah who had healed him. Meaning, he sacrificed time and effort to speak to the God made Man, whom he could touch with his own healed, purified, sanctified hands. 

Many people will go to Church on Thanksgiving Day. Some have already done so the night before. They take the time and make the sacrifice to say thank you to God, in accordance with the President's proclamation: 

It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently and gratefully acknowledged as with one heart and one voice by the whole American People. I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens.

And while we're at it, we might notice the President's further admonition: 

And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him for such singular deliverances and blessings, they do also, with humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to His tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty Hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it as soon as may be consistent with the Divine purposes to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquillity and Union.

Penance and thanksgiving go hand in hand. The latter means nothing without the former; and given today's polarization and the imminent possibility of civil war, we must heed the prophetic president's warning.  

Memorial of Saint Leonard of Port Maurice, Franciscan priest

Lectionary: 505

Remember, you are not to prepare your defense beforehand,
for I myself shall give you a wisdom in speaking
that all your adversaries will be powerless to resist or refute.
You will even be handed over by parents,
brothers, relatives, and friends,
and they will put some of you to death.

Once, amid a group of people whom I respected and trusted, I was given an experience of most unusual, if not "complete," vulnerability. The word is often used by flattering media interviewers to discuss their guests acting performance or perhaps a book they had written. So I use the word reluctantly when I speak of myself or my experience. 

But I think of that long ago moment, and imagine the freedom of many Christian martyrs before their tormentors. It is very hard to describe, and even that single moment in my life I would not describe to many. (The Internet is not the place for that.) 

Despite the extreme pain they suffered, the futility of every effort to relieve their pain, their helpless humiliation before their enemies and tormentors, and the certain death that was rapidly coming at them, they spoke freely of the Lord and insisted that they still waited upon his deliverance. Some, like Saint Lawrence the Deacon, openly laughed at the effort of their tormentors. In other cases, as the Book of Maccabees describes, their tormentors admitted their failure. King Antiochus, in the Second Book of Maccabees, was overcome by the courage of his martyred victims; and ask the boys' mother for help before he murdered her.

That is hard to imagine and yet we know these stories are true. Warriors, fighting  in defense of homeland and loved ones, sometimes demonstrate that freedom, but they have weapons and intend to take their enemies with them into death. True martyrs harm no one. They are overcome by their simple, naked honesty. They speak the truth and stand by the truth, and nothing can dissuade them from it.

Today, Franciscans celebrate the memorial of Saint Leonard of Port Maurice. A ferocious preacher, he doubted that many of his listeners or readers would be saved. He was surely familiar with the stories of martyrs and he looked into that Mirror of Perfection and saw his own cowardice and that of his contemporaries. But thousands of people flocked to hear him speak and to gaze into the awful mirror he held before them. 

During this season when we contemplate death and judgment, heaven and hell, we do well to ask God for the freedom of the martyrs as we study our faith and share with our loved ones. 

Memorial of Saint Catherine of Alexandria, Virgin and Martyr

 Lectionary: 504

...a stone which was hewn from a mountain
without a hand being put to it, struck its iron and tile feet, breaking them in pieces.
The iron, tile, bronze, silver, and gold all crumbled at once....
But the stone that struck the statue became a great mountain and filled the whole earth.

We should notice the stones and rocks that appear amid our scriptures and among our religious symbols. Many people proudly wear stones on their finger as symbols and signals of their religious commitment.
Why? Because a diamond is forever, and it means, "I am committed to one marriage and one spouse until death do us part." 

Abraham and his son Isaac built an altar of stone before they offered the most amazing and terrifying sacrifice, the Patriarch's only beloved son. Witnessing his fanatical devotion, the LORD promised, 

I will bless you and make your descendants as countless as the stars of the sky and the sands of the seashore; your descendants will take possession of the gates of their enemies,

and in your descendants all the nations of the earth will find blessing, because you obeyed my command. (Genesis 22: 17)

As the Hebrews arrived in the Promised Land, Joshua gathered the Twelve Tribes of Israel at Shechem and reminded them of all that the LORD had done for them. He swore that he and his household would remain forever faithful to the LORD and would observe the Law of Moses forever. The Tribes insisted they would do the same thing. Then, 

Joshua said to all the people, “This stone shall be our witness, for it has heard all the words which the LORD spoke to us. It shall be a witness against you, should you wish to deny your God.” (Joshua 24:27)

In the New Testament, there are several references to the stone rejected by the builders which became the cornerstone, found in Psalm 118:22. This link to the English Standard Version lists all of them. 

As living stones we have been built into a temple to worship God. Because rocks don't move of their own free will, loved ones, strangers, and enemies rely on us to remain where the Lord has placed us. 

There are many more allusions to stones and rocks -- the enormous stones of the temple, the stones which held Lazarus and Jesus captive but could not remain in place -- but I'll give one more: Augustus Montague Toplady's English hymn, Rock of Ages.

But the stone that struck the statue became a great mountain and filled the whole earth.

Memorial of Saint Andrew Dŭng-Lạc, Priest, and Companions, Martyrs Lectionary: 503

 Lectionary: 503

"I tell you truly,
this poor widow put in more than all the rest;
for those others have all made offerings from their surplus wealth,
but she, from her poverty, has offered her whole livelihood."

The Lord and his disciples apparently witnessed a peculiar custom in Jerusalem. With Jewish pilgrims from all over the world, we can suppose there was a continual flow of donations to the temple. But Jesus and his disciples watched an extraordinary custom, perhaps reenacted only occasionally, when citizens might process to the temple and make a donation toward its support. It was an opportunity to show off one's fine clothes, and to demonstrate both success and largess. 

Some rural churches in the United States, during their annual festivals, hold public auctions of donated goods and services. During prosperous years, some farmers may ostentatiously demonstrate their success with extravagant bids for worthless prizes, like a scrawny old rooster. It's all in good fun, but there's nothing subtle about the message. 

Jesus, with his disciples, were there to enjoy the fun, but he was astounded when he saw what no one else noticed, "...she, from her poverty, has offered her whole livelihood!" 

The Lord recognized the widow's isolation, her obvious poverty, and the true sacrifice which she alone had made. More than accepting her cross, she seemed to embrace it as she tossed her last copper coins into the insatiable gullet of the temple's treasury. 

We can suppose she felt the presence of God in the world's most sacred shrine, and was not distracted by the crowd or the festive atmosphere. She was not like the Pharisee in the temple who admired his own image in the "mirror" of an unhappy tax collector. She looked at God and no one else; she wanted to trust Him alone. And if it cost her last two copper coins! 

Saint Luke's Gospel announced to the world a different and entirely unexpected appreciation for the innumerable sorrows that afflict human life. In today's brief story we find an unworldly set of values, and receive a new understanding of what is beautiful in God's eyes.

The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe

Lectionary: 162

In those days, all the tribes of Israel came to David in Hebron and said:

"Here we are, your bone and your flesh.

Taking up where the divine authors of the New Testament left off, Catholic bishops of the first centuries — we call them the Church Fathers – heard in the words, “We are your bone and your flesh,” a prophecy about Jesus, the Messiah and Son of David. King David was an Old Testament ancestor who prefigured Jesus, whom we know and love as bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh.

The royal line of David had all but disappeared, and was nearly forgotten under the detritus of many centuries; but the Evangelist Saint Matthew identified Jesus as a descendant of David and rightful heir to the throne. His birth in Bethlehem, of Mary the wife of Joseph, who was of the house and line of David, proved his royal blood. With that authority he could invite everyone to do penance for the forgiveness of sins; and then dine with him at the royal banquet of God’s kingdom. 

And when all four evangelists tell us that Jesus was crowned with thorns, enthroned on a cross, and hailed as King of the Jews by Roman soldiers and Jewish priests, their japes, mockery, and sarcastic insults only prove his divine election as the Messiah and King. 

And, if there is any hesitation in those who follow the Lord, they hear his first royal decree -- amnesty for a convicted murderer. 

After he was raised from the dead and revealed as the Son of God to his disciples, the only thing left to fulfill his mission as King and Savior is the adoption of the entire human race from Genesis to Apocalypse into his bone and flesh. Everyone is called to be the body and blood of Jesus. For by our baptism we have been adopted into God's people. And we have been grafted into the family of Joseph, and Mary, David and Moses, Abraham. Isaac, and Jacob. Jesus’ work is finished – his life is consummated – his kingdom established – when we gather at the altar to eat his flesh and drink his blood. Like David’s people at Hebron, we are the flesh and bone of Jesus. 

During every Mass we hear the priest say, "Take this, all of you, and eat of it, for this is my Body, which will be given up for you". And then he says, ““This is the chalice of my blood.” And we understand that we are to drink the blood of Jesus and eat his body. When we receive the Eucharist, we might hear the joyful cry of our ancestor Adam when he saw his wife Eve for the first time. He shouted, “This one, at last, is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh.” 

The chasm between God and man, the remoteness of men and women, the distance between saints and sinners has been closed. 

As Saint Paul said,

But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have become near by the blood of Christ.

For he is our peace, he who made both one and broke down the dividing wall of animosity through his flesh…

that he might create in himself one new person in place of the two, thus establishing peace,

and might reconcile both with God, in one body, through the cross, putting that animosity to death by it.

He came and preached peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near, for through him we both have access in one Spirit to the Father. (Ephesians 2:13-18)

In today's Gospel, we hear another story of the crucifixion and we are reminded that the body which was his and ours was suspended on a cross for several hours as the last drops of blood flowed out of it. We have seen the mockery of the soldiers who offered him wine; heard their jeering him, "If you are King of the Jews, save yourself." Even Pontius Pilate placed a placard above his head, “The King of the Jews.” As I said, their mockery affirms our faith in Jesus as our Messiah and King, for we would not know the Lord, nor would we want to serve him, if he were crowned with honor by kings, rulers, tyrants, and demagogues of this world. He would be one of them, and not one of us. 

But when the Crucified Son of God, who is now our flesh and blood and bone, announces the Kingdom of God, he tells us of an entirely different kind of king, a very different kingdom, and an entirely new way of life for the servants of the king. While the servants still serve the King who is Lord of Heaven and Earth, they also serve one another. For Jesus has insisted, 

“I came to serve, and not to be served.” 

And then he tells us how we must serve him by serving one another: 

The kings of the Gentiles lord it over them and those in authority over them are addressed as ‘Benefactors’; but among you it shall not be so. Rather, let the greatest among you be as the youngest, and the leader as the servant.

There is no longer that constant competition that we find among servants and slaves of a tyrant. We are not a dysfunctional family whose children compete for the attention and affection of their narcissistic parents. We are more like the brothers and sisters of a healthy family sitting around the same table. We care about each other. We love God and we love one another as our own bodies, for we are all in the one Body of Christ, and there are no divisions of hostility, suspicion, rivalry, or competition among us. We say to Jesus and we say to one another as the tribes said to David, “Here we are, your bone and your flesh.” That is what it means to live in the Kingdom of God.