Monday, February 2, 2026

Feast of the Presentation of the Lord

Lectionary: 524

Since the children share in blood and flesh,
Jesus likewise shared in them,
that through death he might destroy the one
who has the power of death, that is, the Devil....

Christmas is long passed and today the world entertains itself with harassing a groundhog. Everyone knows it means nothing at all and that seems to be the point. And so Catholics turn back to remember and be grateful for the Gift that does matter.

Today the Letter to the Hebrews reminds us that, "...he had to become like his brothers and sisters in every way." 

I wonder how many young parents hope their child might be like their "brothers and sisters in every way." Don't they hope for better than that? That the infant will be stronger, smarter, healthier, happier, more clever, more obedient, and generally easier to manage than other children? 

Would any new parents hope that their boy or girl will be tested through what they suffer, in order that they, "might be able to help those who are being tested?" 

Perhaps, if the notion were proposed to them, they might agree that failure, disappointment, and trouble make one stronger; but they'd rather think of other, more cheerful things.

The Feast of the Presentation refreshes the Spirit of Christmas, but also arouses sober thoughts about the life and mission of Christ and his people in a world which entertains itself by hauling a fat groundhog out of its burrow. Clearly, they've got over Christianity and Christmas with its hopes and fears a long time ago. They think that hope is a preference for early spring. Although, with climate change, early springs forecast torrid summers and deadly hurricanes. 

Today, we fix our gaze on Jesus and thank God for the promise of this Child. He is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. He is the Son of Man who, 
receives dominion, splendor, and kingship;
all nations, peoples and tongues... serve him.
His dominion is an everlasting dominion
that shall not pass away,
his kingship, one that shall not be destroyed. (Daniel 7:14)

Lent begins early this year, just 16 days from now. It's not too soon to follow in his footsteps toward Jerusalem, Calvary, and Easter.

 


Sunday, February 1, 2026

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 70

Seek the LORD, all you humble of the earth,
who have observed his law;
seek justice, seek humility;
perhaps you may be sheltered
on the day of the LORD's anger.

We're all familiar with the pretense of humility. It has a rank odor that stinks regardless of who it might be that smells so bad, or how far away they might be. On television, radio, or social media – it doesn’t matter – they stink. 

This stench of false humility is pervasive and persistent in human society; it is so common that some social scientists think there is nothing more to our human nature than what we pretend to be. There is no man behind the curtain; we are nothing but what we pretend to be. 

And yet, the Bible assures us, we are more than just dirt; we were made in God’s image. We are sinful images of God, and we stink. As he said, “For you are dirt and to dirt you shall return.” That is, you are humus, meaning organic dirt. Dirt that was formerly alive but is now dead. For Adam and Eve were dead in sin. 

We smell this stench in others; if we’re blessed we notice it in ourselves also. But because false humility is so common; because we’re so continually trying to present the right image to others and ourselves, we might never notice those blessed ones who actually seek humility. They want to recognize, admit, and understand who they are in God’s sight. For, as Saint Francis said, “What a man is in God’s sight, is what he is. That, and nothing more.” 

What on earth are they looking for? And why? Perhaps, as the prophet says, that they may be sheltered on the day of God's anger. They want to be that people, humble and lowly, who take refuge in the name of the LORD: who shall do no wrong, and speak no lies. 

The Lord who was born in poverty  and died in disgrace invites the humble to be with him when he says, 
Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

In his presence, as Zephaniah says, “they shall pasture and couch their flocks with none to disturb them.” That is, they will find that peace in their hearts which is unshaken and undisturbed by the nonsense around them. 

Humility is a gift largely unrecognized by the world but it is not a weight too heavy to bear. Those who are blessed with humility do not speak of it; rather, they celebrate the Lord’s perfection, Mary’s purity, and the martyrs’ courage. 

Today's gospel gathers the Church around Jesus to hear him describe our humble way of life. He speaks in what might be a foreign language, and his eight beatitudes are mysteries. They are... 
"... hidden from ages and from generations past; but now manifested to his holy ones, " (Col 1:26)
There is no mockery, insinuation, threats, or violence in God’s kingdom; there is no bluster or pretense. There are no promises of success, prosperity, security, or peace on earth. Nor are the residents of the Kingdom prettier, smarter, healthier, wealthier, or more famous than anyone else. They are spared that nonsense. As Saint Paul said, 
“God chose the foolish of the world to shame the wise, and God chose the weak of the world to shame the strong, and God chose the lowly and despised of the world, those who count for nothing, to reduce to nothing those who are something, so that no human being might boast before God.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells us about that place where the humble live: the poor in spirit inherit the Kingdom of God. Those who mourn are comforted, and those who hunger and thirst for righteousness are more than satisfied. The merciful will be shown mercy, and the pure of heart will see God. 

The Bible shows us what it means to be human in God’s world; and in God’s world no one needs, or feels the need, to boast of their success, prosperity, fame, fortune, or virtue. They know they are vulnerable, foolish, sinful human beings, and  have nothing to boast about, and yet they know God loves them intensely. Our sins continually remind God and us that we are made of dirt – of humus – and to humus we shall return. 

Humbly is the way we should act, and humility should be the goal we pursue. If we brag about anything, it will be like Saint Paul, who spoke quite freely of his humiliation: 
Three times I begged the Lord about (his problems,) that (they) might leave me,  but he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” 
And then the Apostle said, 
But I will boast of my weaknesses, in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me. I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and constraints, for the sake of Christ; for when I am weak, then I am strong.

In his Sermon on the Mount Jesus also shows us that church which has always been in God’s mind but was hidden from ages past. We see glimpses of it in the Old Testament; and we feel its nearness in Mary, the Mother of God. 

When we join her in Bethlehem and Nazareth, and on Calvary, we become humble, poor in spirit, and meek. Especially, standing beside her on Calvary, we cannot say or do anything. We impose a strict silence on our minds as we grieve with her for the loss of her son. With her we hunger and thirst for righteousness, but have no worldly power to enforce God’s laws of mercy and justice. 

Mary is the Church, that humble woman, and as she takes our hands and leads us from Calvary to the tomb where they laid his body, we become the Church. And then we know that we will be protected and saved with her on Judgment Day, that great and terrible day when the LORD casts down the mighty from their thrones, and raises the lowly from the dust of the earth, to live with him forever.