"Candlemas (A Song)" by John Henry Newman

Today, after the late Mass, my wife and I needed to do some grocery shopping. While we were at the store making our way down the isle, me pushing the cart, she said to me- "When we get back into the car, I am going to read to you." My response was something like, "Uh, okay."

After finishing our shopping and loading the groceries into the back of the vehicle, we got in and started to drive. As I turned out of the parking lot, she started: "'Candlemas,' by John Henry Newman..." It is poem written by the person most responsible for my conversion. I must admit that apart from "Lead Kindly Light" (a poem I have turned to often in troubled times) and "The Dream of Gerontius," I am not very familiar with Newman's poems. "Candlemas" was new to me.

As I listened, having just celebrated Candlemas, complete with the blessing and lighting of candles and a procession into the Church, the words of this poem landed very tenderly on my heart.

Without too much more ado, I want to share Cardinal Newman's poem to bring today's lovely Feast to a close:

Candlemas (A Song)

The Angel-lights of Christmas morn,
      Which shot across the sky,
Away they pass at Candlemas,
      They sparkle and they die.

Comfort of earth is brief at best,
      Although it be divine;
Like funeral lights for Christmas gone,
      Old Simeon’s tapers shine.

Simeon in the Temple, Rembrandt, 1669

And then for eight long weeks and more,
      We wait in twilight grey,
Till the high candle sheds a beam
      On Holy Saturday.

We wait along the penance-tide
      Of solemn fast and prayer;
While song is hush’d, and lights grow dim
      In the sin-laden air.

And while the sword in Mary’s soul
      Is driven home, we hide
In our own hearts, and count the wounds
      Of passion and of pride.

And still, though Candlemas be spent
      And Alleluias o’er,
Mary is music in our need,
      And Jesus light in store. (The Oratory 1849)

Candlemas: Feast of the Presentation of the Lord

Readings: Malachi 3:1-4; Psalm 24:7-10; Hebrews 2:14-18; Luke 2:22-20

For those of a more traditional mindset, 2 February marks the end of Christmas. The Feast of the Presentation of the Lord is such an important Feast that it takes precedence over what would otherwise be the Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time. It's a special treat to celebrate this great feast on a Sunday.

Candlemas is another traditional term used to describe today's Feast. On this day, it is a traditional practice for the faithful to bring candles to Mass in order to have them blessed. Rather than stored, these blessed candles are to be used to bring light and warmth to our homes.

Christmas is the celebration of Jesus Christ as the Light of the world, that Light who enlightens everyone, the Light who shines in and is not overcome by the darkness, as the Gospel for Christmas, Mass During the Day, tells us (see John 1:5.9). Lighting candles blessed on Candlemas reminds us of this, reassures us about this, makes us joyful because our hope is Jesus Christ.

Mary and Joseph don't merely offer a couple of birds, which was the offering of the poor. Unbeknownst to anyone but Simeon and Anna, they offer the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. They offer the one who will do away with the need for Temple sacrifices. Considering the Lord in the Temple, let's not forget the tabernacle candle that perpetually burns in each Church, indicating the Lord's presence. The Lord is present there under the humble sign of bread, until He returns.

In this child both Anna and Simeon recognized not only their hope, not only the hope of Israel, but as Simeon's prayer, known by its Latin title, the Nunc Dimittis (the first two words), the hope of the world: "a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and glory for your people Israel" (Luke 2:32). This canticle is prayed each day as part of Night Prayer.

Jesus' Presentation in the Temple is the fourth Joyful Mystery of Our Lady's Rosary. Obedience is the fruit of this mystery.

This hope, as Simeon also intimated to Mary, would be realized through suffering. Such is often the case with true hope. This why hope should not be mistaken for optimism. Let's be honest, suffering makes obedience hard and beckons one to despair.

Quite often, when it comes to obedience, we want our reward. Thinking something like, "I've been good. God owes me." This is particularly true when it comes to matters with which you might struggle. Another thing to bear in mind, however, is that goodness is its own reward. Not to mention, to speak in worldly terms, it is quite often the case that no good deed goes unpunished.

We know that at the beginning of His passion Jesus asked the Father to spare Him this agony if it was in any way possible (see Luke 22:42). It is to this that our reading from the Letter to the Hebrews points. Therefore, as the inspired author states: "Because he himself was tested through what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested" (Hebrews 2:18). Despite His own expressed desire, Jesus was obedient to the will of the Father.

Who or what else might the pleasing sacrifice of Judah and Jerusalem, mentioned by Malachi, be other than Jesus, the Lord?

Jesus comes to His Temple as the infant child of a poor Galilean couple. As the introduction to this Feast found in the Roman Missal puts it:

Outwardly [Jesus] was fulfilling the Law,
but in reality he was coming to meet his believing people

At this point, in addition to (possibly) Mary and Joseph, His believing people are Anna and Simeon. The latter of whom was led to the Temple by the Spirit to see Him, the Christ, the Mashiach, the Messiah before dying. The former, a widow of many years, who spent her days in the Temple precincts praying, waiting, and hoping.

Seeing and recognizing the Lord is the fruit of obedience for Anna and Simeon. It is also the fruit of our obedience. As we ask in a petition from the Intercessions for Evening Prayer I of today's Feast: "lead all people to to recognize that you still come to them."

May you recognize the Lord as He presents Himself to you, May you see the Light in the darkness.

A take on immigration

Presently and for the past several years, immigration is a very concerning issue for many people in the United States. Sadly, taking our cue from politicians, political parties, ideologues, and even the news media, we turn a complex, multi-faceted issue into a grossly oversimplified single issue. We then either lionize of villify immigrants, which dehumanizes them.

For me, it is axiomatic that every immigrant, no matter from whence s/he hails, or how s/he came to be here, or their reason for coming, is a human being. As such, s/he is made in the image of God. Hence, every human being should be treated with dignity and respect at all times. In 2022, the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops issued Catholic Elements of Immigration Reform. It is worth reading. I hope what I write below is in conformity with these elements.

It seems to me immigration has five distinct, not separate, but distinct facets:

First is the border. I'll be honest, I don't have a big problem with securing the southern border. Seeking to make the border very hard, if not impossible, to cross strikes me as a responsibility of a government faced with mass immigration. Also, once word gets out that crossing the border is a very risky proposition and that you'll likely be caught, detained, and returned to your country of origin, fewer people will put themselves at the mercy of coyotes and other criminal predators in an effort to come to the U.S.

We tend to underestimate the human cost of immigration prior to people reaching our southern border. It is important to treat detained persons with dignity and respect. It is paramount to keep families together. Parents, for the most part, will do a better job than anyone else keeping their children safe.

Recently, some U.S. cities and towns have been stretched to the breaking point trying to accommodate large numbers of immigrants. While this predictably became farcical during last year's presidential election, there are instances that show the truth of this: Denver, Colorado and, yes, Springfield, Ohio. No, I don't think domestic pets were being eaten with reckless abandon in the latter city. But the impact of an exceedingly large number of immigrants there created crisis conditions.

Secondly, what are the countries people are seeking to leave doing to improve conditions and opportunities for their people? After the stand-off and threatened trade war between Colombia (not "Columbia," as the White Press Office wrote it- see "White House Press Release Misspells Colombia, Sparks Row"), the Colombian president, Gustavo Petro, is now asking Colombians to leave the U.S., come home, and and "build social wealth in Colombia" (see "Colombia's president calls for migrants to leave jobs in the US and return home").

In a similar vein, during his 2016 visit to Mexico, Pope Francis, urged Mexican leaders to reform their country so as to create conditions for people to flourish. Speaking after a private meeting with Mexico's then-president, Enrique Pena Nieto, the Holy Father said:

Experience teaches us that each time we seek the path of privileges or benefits for a few to the detriment of the good of all, sooner or later the life of society becomes a fertile soil for corruption, drug trade, exclusion of different cultures, violence and also human trafficking, kidnapping and death, bringing suffering and slowing down development (see "Pope gives tough love to Mexico’s political, church elite")

The U.S. needs to play a role helping to foster better conditions in the countries people are leaving in droves. Why? Because historically we have contributed to the current political and economic conditions.

Third, there are genuine refugees. These are people who have legally applied for and been granted asylum in the United States. Oddly, it is caring for these people with the help of government grants, that Vice President Vance publicly went after Catholic bishops. Suffice it to say, government grants don't cover the entire cost of refugee services that Catholic community services across the nation provide. To wit: dioceses are not making "bank" off these efforts. Rather, these organizations are paying the difference between the cost of these services and the government grants. Also, Catholic entities are very efficient in doing this. Instead of criticism, praise is in order.

Fourth, I have no problem with ICE rounding up those who are known criminals either or both in their home country and here. Right now, deportation efforts are focused on specific people who are known criminals. Fellow immigrants are the main victims of these individuals and gangs. This is the crux of the effort right now. Throughout the Biden Administration, the U.S. was daily deporting people. This is not to ignore other Biden immigration policies that led to a massive backlash during last year's presidential election. During President Obama's time in office, deportations reached a peak (see "Obama is deporting more immigrants than any president in history: explained").

Finally, the issue I find most vexing and even frightening, as do many people, is the status of people who are already here and who have been here for years, even decades. These are people who work hard seeking to build a life for themselves and their families. Some of their children are citizens. They serve their communities, pay their taxes, and, apart from not having legal status, are law abiding. It seems to me that some allowance, some distinction, some accommodation should be made for these folks.

In a previous attempt at immigration reform during the George W. Bush administation, an idea to levy a fine on undocumented people who have been here for a long time was floated, along with then creating a path to legal status and perhaps, eventually, citizenship (see "Is Bush's plan for illegal immigrants 'practical,' or amnesty?"). This died because certain members of Congress were opposed to anything remotely smacking of what they called "amnesty." Of course, the path to citizenship for people who are here legally needs to be expedited. More resources are needed besides beefing up immigration enforcement.

The very inconsistent, uneven, and highly unpredictable nature of immigration enforcement helps no one and does not the serve the nation well. I think even the current administration, with its perceived mandate to get a grip on immigration, at some point will have to realize the vital role many immigrants play in the U.S. economy. The flip side of this recognition is then dealing with conditions that allow immigrants to be badly exploited.

To discerning means choosing

Today is the last day of January 2025. While January started soft and quietly for me, it quickly turned into a time of intense discernment. This was precipitated by two quite unexpected proposals.

These proposals forced me not just to discern about them or between them, as they were mutually exclusive, but to step back and take a broader view of my life, where I am and where I am going, not to mention where I feel I should go and where I want to go over the next few years. While painful and time consuming, this was a good thing. It was painful because, as is the case with discernment, I had to make some decisions. This was inescapable because choosing not to decide would still have been to make a choice.

These decisions are important because as I prepare to turn 60 this year, whatever I decided hugely impacts the rest of my life, particularly in terms of finanical security. Needless to say, I did a lot of back-and-forth, discussed various possibilities, pros and cons, wants and needs with my wife. I also consulted with a few other trusted people.

As with any true discernment, all of this was about deciding between good things. At root, the issue with discernment is any choice you make for a good thing contains a decision to forego other good things. Once decided, there is always that pesky risk of wondering What if? Frankly, I am sure I will wonder that at times. Such is life.

It's good that such decisions are not only about what I want or how choices might impact me. Being married, having children, and supporting my wife in being responsible for an elderly parent, must factor in. Having to think about and give loving consideration to others, at least for me, grounds life. As does being a member of the clergy.

Being a deacon, which makes me a man of the Church, brings forth the consideration of how best to serve Christ. Best serving Christ means best serving His Church. Nonetheless, another aspect of this discernment that came to the fore is a theological one. Even more specifically, an ecclesiological one. It is about distinguishing between the Church as the mystical Body (or, to go De Lubacian- the true Body) of Christ and the institutional Church.

Now, it's impossible to make a hard-and-fast distinction that results in a complete separation of the sacramental from the mundane, the earthly from the heavenly, the divine and the human (oftentimes all too human). I think there has to be some overlap, even if at times it is very thin even to the point of not being very perceptible. Isn't this, after all, the nature of sacraments? And isn't the Church "the universal sacrament of salvation"? (Lumen Gentium, sec. 48)

What is the Eucharist if not transsubstantiated bread and wine that appears to the casual observer no different after consecration than before? And so, while one has to exercise due caution, making that ecclesiological distinction provided me with a key to unlocking what I should do. It wasn't serving the Church but how best to serve while taking my family, my life, and my circumstances into consideration.

Looking out for my future, which is also my wife's future, as well as impacting our children, is very important. Like most people, while I don't ever envision a time when I will do nothing, I do look forward to the day when I no longer have to "go to work" as a matter of necessity. At the end of the day, there was only one path that led to that destination. It will take me a few more years to get there.

One thing was for certain: I couldn't stand at the four-pronged fork in the road for very long. As the title of that old Gospel song put it: "You Got to Move." Larry Howard, Glenn Kaiser, and Darrell Mansfield sing our traditio for this final Friday of January 2025:

Monday of the Third Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Hebrews 9:15.24-28; Psalm 98:1-6; Mark 3:22-20

The best starting point for Christian faith is not the Most Holy Trinity. Since He is the Alpha and the Omega, Christian faith begins and ends with Jesus Christ. After, all it is Jesus who reveals God as Father and who speaks explicitly about the Holy Spirit and who sends the Spirit.

Jesus Christ is the fullness of God’s revelation. Everything is revealed in and through Him. Taking a cue from our first reading from the Letter to the Hebrews, by His death and resurrection, Jesus ushered in not only a new, but an everlasting covenant. It’s important to note that a new covenant is foretold by the prophets. It is needed because of Israel’s inability to keep the first covenant. Jesus fulfilled the covenant on our behalf.

By His death on the cross, Jesus did away with the need for the whole sacrificial system of the Temple. This means a Temple is no longer needed or, more accurately, that He is now the temple. Through Him, we, too, become temples of the Holy Spirit, places of God’s presence.

There is a lot of weird controversy surrounding the exact nature of the sin against the Holy Spirit. Because all sin is against God and the Holy Spirit, along with the Father and the Son, is God, all sins are sins against the Holy Spirit. What Saint Paul wrote in his First Letter to the Corinthians provides us with a wonderful synthesis of our two readings for today:

Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies (1 Corinthians 6:19-20)

Of course, all sins are not blasphemies. Nonetheless, our sinfulness should make us humble and contrite, not proud or presumptive. As Saint Paul reminds the saints at Corinth, “you were bought at a price.” You must never forget this.

Keep sin at bay by avoiding what used to be called the “narrow occasions” of sin. Desire holiness and foster it through the practice of spiritual discipline, especially prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. Examine your conscience daily. Go to confession regularly. The grace of this sacrament, coupled with frequent reception of Holy Communion, and selflessly serving others, helps stave off the devil.

Also, seek the intercession of our Blessed Mother by praying her Rosary and the Memorare. Make heavenly friends with specific saints and implore them for their prayers and intercession. This is how you live in the light of the new and everlasting covenant.

Word of God- Sunday

Readings: Neh 8:2-4a.5-6.8-10; Ps 19:8-10.15; 1 Cor 12:12-30; Luke 1:1-4; 4:14-21

Given the length of today's readings, especially if the long form of the reading from 1 Corinthians was used in your parish, you received a small taste of what the Israelites experienced listening for a half-day while the priest Ezra read out the law. And chances are, the homily you heard today was longer than the one Jesus gave in the synagogue at Nazareth in our Gospel.

The passage from Isaiah on which Jesus comments is really, like this Gospel reading, a mashup of two passages: Isaiah 61:1-2 and Isaiah 58:6. In his commentary on what He read from Isaiah, Jesus tells those gathered in his hometown synagogue that today what they just heard is fullfilled in their hearing. You see, Jesus is the Word of God incarnate.

Jesus is the Torah, Nevi'im, and the Ketuvim personified. In English words, He is the Law, the Prophets, and the Writings in person. While certainly inspired words, what we have in Sacred Scripture we might call the words of God or the word of God in contrast to the Word of God.

On this word of God Sunday, it bears reminding ourselves that, as Christians, we are not really Ahl al-Kitab (i.e., "people of the Book"). We are the people of the Resurrected and Risen Lord, who is Himself the Word of God.

I think it's hard for us to understand what a provocation Jesus' words were to those who heard him in this pericope of Luke's. Keep in mind, Nazareth was likely a small village of no more than several hundred people. Everyone not only knew everyone, but most of the Nazarenes were likely related to each other in some way. Jesus was of one them.

After going off and gaining some measure of fame teaching in synagogues in other Galilean towns and villages, Jesus came back home to Nazareth. On the sabbath, He went to worship in what Luke clearly indicates was likely the synagogue of His youth. In Catholic terms, He returned to the parish in which he grew up, where everyone knew Him. After reading passage(s) from Isaiah about the Messiah, He sat down, which was the posture for teaching, and told them with virtually no gloss, "I am the Messiah."

Turning back to Nehemiah, the People of God were so eager to hear the word of God that "they knelt down and bowed before the LORD, their faces to the ground" as their posture for listening. Talk about reverence! According to Luke, how do the worshippers in the Nazareth synagogue respond to Jesus revealing Himself to them as their long awaited Mesisah?

After asking "Isn't this Joseph's son?", they dispute His claim. Far from backing down, Jesus basically tells them that it comes as no surprise that they don't believe Him because their fathers didn't believe the prophets but some gentiles did and God blessed them for it. This really pissed them off. So much so that they tried to kill Him by running Him off a cliff (see Luke 4:22-30).

The contrast between the two responses couldn't be more stark. Believing in Christ is a scandal. In 1 Corinthians 1:23, Saint Paul says that "Christ crucified" is "a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles." "Stumbling block" is a translation of the Greek word skandalon, which is the origin of the word "scandal" in English.

Just as He is really present in the consecrated bread and wine, the Lord is really present in the proclamation of the inspired of words of Sacred Scripture in the assembly (see Sacrosanctum Concilium, sec. 7). In fact, the liturgy is the premiere place for the proclamation of and commentary on the scriptures. This is why preaching is so vitally important! Through the inspired words of God, the Word of God is made present.

As our Gospel clearly shows, Jesus didn't come merely to comfort. He came to provoke. Faith in Christ, if it is really faith, provokes everyone who believes in Him. Through the Holy Spirit, which is always at work through the scriptures, each is provoked in the way s/he needs to be, at least the ones who listen with open ears and hearts.

Saying "Jesus is Lord," at least when said by the Holy Spirit, is a bold declaration, a provocation. It is a provocation both to the one who makes this proclamation as well as those to whom it is proclaimed.

What hearing the Word of God means, in the words of our Blessed Mother found in our Gospel for last Sunday, which came from John, is "Do whatever He tells you" (John 2:5).

Ordination Anniversary

Today was the first time this year that I was tempted to deviate from my plan. As it turns out, my saving grace in this regard, is sacramental grace. Specifically, the sacramental grace of ordination. Today, the Memorial of Saint Francis de Sales, marks the twenty-first anniversary of my ordination as deacon.

Diocese of Salt Lake City, Deacon Class of 2004

Along with 23 other men, then-Bishop George H. Niederauer of Salt Lake City (later archbishop of San Francisco, which was then my diocese's Metropolitan See until 2023), by the laying on of hands, conferred on me the sacrament of orders by ordaining me a deacon. Along with being married, the birth of my children, and my own baptism (/confirmation/communion- 14 April 1990), this was a major event in my life. From that day forward, I have striven to be a man of service, albeit a very imperfect one. Nothing brings my flaws to the fore like pastoral ministry.

For the first eleven-and-a-half years of my diaconate, I served at The Cathedral of the Madeleine. For the past 9.5 years, I have served at Saint Olaf parish, located in the town where I live. Serving as a deacon is both my privilege and my pleasure.

Over the ensuing twenty-one years, nine members of my class have died. To the surviving members: Ad multos anos! I'm currently in a season of discernment. I don't mind saying that I find it rather uncomfortable but feel like I should find it exciting. In your kindness, say a prayer for me.

Our traditio is Tom Jones singing "Burning Hell" off his 2010 album Praise and Blame:

"Deacon Jones please pray for me!"

Year C Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: Isaiah 62:1-5; Psalm 96:1-3.7-10; 1 Corinthians 12:4-11; John 2:1-11

As we enter this season of Ordinary Time, running from last Monday until Ash Wednesday, it bears noting that, liturgically, Ordinary Time is not contrasted with “Extraordinary Time,” like Advent, Christmas, Lent, or Easter. Rather, it refers to ordinal time, defined as a numbered series. What are serially numbered during Ordinary Time are Sundays. Since every Sunday is “a little Easter,” Christ’s resurrection is the axis around which the liturgical year and Christian life revolves. The Lord's resurrection is the Church's cornerstone and touchstone.

Even though the Church is in Year C of her three-year Sunday lectionary, which means that we focus on the Gospel According to Saint Luke, our Gospel for today is taken from Saint John. Hearing the Miracle at the Wedding Feast of Cana is deliberately congruent with the previous two Sundays, both which are part of Christmas: Epiphany and Baptism of the Lord. Prior to the liturgical reforms that occurred after the Second Vatican Council, the Church observed three Epiphanies: the visit of Magi, the Lord’s Baptism by John in the river Jordan, and His miracle at wedding feast of Cana.

It is only in Year C that the Sunday lectionary keeps the Tradition of the Three Epiphanies. While the Gospels for the Second Sunday in Ordinary Time for Years A and B, during which we focus on the Gospels of Matthew and Mark respectively, also come from John, they tell of when John the Baptist identifies Jesus as “the Lamb of God” and baptizes Him, and when His first disciples follow Him.¹

If you recall, an epiphany is a sudden realization, even a revelation. It might also be described as a moment of heightened perception when you seem to see things in their true light, one might say, see things as they really are. Epiphanies yield insights. When it comes to Jesus, the Epiphany is that by the power of the Holy Spirit, you recognize Him as Lord, as the verse that immediately precedes our passage from 1 Corinthians today asserts.²

And so, just as we ease into Ordinary Time after Easter with our observances of Trinity Sunday and Corpus Christi, we ease into Ordinary Time after Christmas by pondering the Lord’s third Epiphany. Understanding the liturgical year is critically important not only to understanding but to living our Christian faith, the heart of which is the Paschal Mystery. Observing the liturgical year at Church, at home, and in our lives is how we participate in this great Mystery, which is the mystery of creation and redemption.

In the context of Saint John’s Gospel, which is sometimes called “the Gospel of Signs,” Jesus’ miracle at the wedding feast of Cana is the first of seven signs. Another of these signs we will hear during this year is the sixth sign: the Lord’s healing of the man born blind.³ It is the reading for the Mass during which the Second Scrutiny of the Elect takes place.

Confirmation for the assertion that John’s Gospel is the Gospel of signs can be found within this Gospel:

Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of [his] disciples that are not written in this book. But these [the seven signs] are written that you may [come to] believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through this belief you may have life in his name⁴

Of course, each of these signs are an Epiphany, a revelation meant to bring you to the realization that “Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God,” who came to give you life eternal.

As it pertains to the miracle at the wedding feast of Cana, which is only found in Saint John’s Gospel, if one were to look at all four Gospels sequentially, Matthew-John, this episode marks the final time that the Blessed Virgin says anything. What she says, she says to the servers: “Do whatever he tells you.”⁵ Mary, the Mother of God, and our Mother by the grace of God, directs us to Jesus, not to herself.

Of course, the miracle at the wedding feast of Cana is the second of the Luminous Mysteries of the Holy Rosary. It’s fruit? To Jesus through Mary. As Saint Teresa of Calcutta once insisted: No Mary, no Jesus. We might say, know Mary- k-n-o-w-, know Jesus. Since we’re extending Christmas through Lectionary, let’s not forget, even reaching back into Advent, the great Marian observances: Immaculate Conception, Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, and Mary, the Mother of God, which solemnity ushers in the new calendar year. If you're not already doing so, pray the Rosary! Pray it daily if you can.

This year, we have an extra treat. The Presentation of Jesus in the Temple, traditionally called Candlemas, which the Church observes on 2 February, and was formerly the observance that marked the end of Christmas, falls on Sunday this year. What a great grace! Let’s allow these sacred observances not only inform us but shape and form us, to bring us to the Spirit-led acknowledgement that Jesus is Lord. This reality needs to then lead us to live lives that further reveal this reality, a life that is itself an Epiphany.

Like the Blessed Virgin Mary, who is our model of discipleship, and through her intercession, let’s lead others to believe in the Redeemer by living like people who are redeemed, like people of the Resurrection.

---

1 See John 1:29-34 and John 1:35-39.^↩
2 1 Corinthians 12:3.^↩
3 See John 9:1-41.^↩
4 John 20:30-31.^↩
5 John 2:5.^↩

Cultivating a just love of self

Here we are. The third Friday of 2025 already! I don't know about you, but this year has already had some unexpected twists and turns and that have made things a little tumultuous. None of these are bad things, thanks be to God. It's not bad for me to let myself be pressed a bit. I may have a problem of feeling like I need to be pressed all the time.

It's disconcerting for me after the quiet of the week between Christmas Day and New Year's Day to "get back to it." I've found that adjustment this year even more difficult than usual. I need to get my spiritual life back on track. With the exception of Holy Hour, it's not that I haven't been maintaining my spiritual discipline. Rather, it's the more difficult issue of practicing them in too perfunctory a manner.

A photo I snapped this morning

A bright spot in this New Year is reading Oliver Burkeman's Meditations for Mortals. The best way I can describe this book is that it is a master course in knowing and not so much overcoming yourself but recognizing and working within your limits and doing a better job setting limits. The books consists of meditations over 28 days. Yesterday's meditation, which is Day 16, set forth the "reverse golden rule."

Burkeman takes the concept of the "reverse golden rule" from philosopher Iddo Landau and describes it thus:

not treating yourself in punishing and poisonous ways in which you'd never dream of treating someone else

Now, everyone is not likely prone to this. I don't mind admitting that I am. At times, I am utterly and unrelentingly terrible to myself.

Reading and pondering Burkeman's chapter on the "reverse golden rule" led me quickly not only to think about the golden rule- Do to others whatever you would like them to do to you (Matthew 7:12)- but also the second of Jesus's Two Great Commandments to love your neighbor as you love yourself (Matthew 22:37). The back end of both of these injunctions is that a just love of self is the basis for how you treat others.

Not an earth-shattering insight, I know. But there's knowing something and then there's being struck by what it is you know in a way that shows you, once again, that knowing, as important as that is, isn't everything and, when it comes to life, to living, is insufficient of itself. To put it in an utterly eggheaded way, Burkeman's insight via Landau provided me with a necessary link between knowledge and praxis, between knowing and doing.

Several years ago, I man I had worked with over the better part of a year to return to the practice of the faith to be confirmed and with whom I had developed a warm friendship, committed suicide. Casey was an extraordinarily successful person. He was truly loved by all: smart, hard-working, kind, and generous to all. I was asked to participate in his quite elaborate memorial service. I did so by incorporating elements of the Roman Catholic funeral vigil,which the large crowd seemed to not just to tolerate but appreciate. After all, it was a wake. At each place setting the tables laid out for the banquet was a banner that read Be gentle with yourself & with others. To this day, I keep it in my den (see photo above).

Today's traditio was a little difficult as I want to keep it congruent with what I write. So, being kind to myself, I am going with U2's "A Sort of Homecoming." It is off their Unforgettable Fire album, which remains my favorite of their many albums. Actually, my least favorite song off that album is the one that was most popular and that would be fitting for Monday's holiday:

Let's not forget that Fridays remain days of penance. When understood and practiced properly, penance, while it certainly consists of taking stock of your life and examining your conscience, is not then kicking the shit out of yourself. For a Christian far from it. Rather, it is recognizing and desiring the healing you need and turning to the One who died and rose to heal you: Jesus Christ. As a Balthasarian in this regard, I don't mind asserting that He even went to hell for you. It bears recalling that along with anointing, penance is a sacrament of healing.

Engaging in penitential acts is important and, I believe, necessary. Fasting, abstinence, vigils, cold showers, etc. are good things when done in the right spirit. Yes, I stand ready to still defend Pope Saint John Paul II for his practice of administering "the discipline" to himself, often on the eve of ordaining new bishops. Is this a practice for everyone? Emphatically, NO! Is it a practice for most people, again, NO! I have written a lot on penitential practices over the years of this blog. With Lent coming, I will revisit this soon without a doubt. I will address what it means to engage in penitential acts in the right spirit.

Opening myself up to grace is really the work this requires, ex opere operato notwithstanding:

And you hunger for the time
Time to heal, desire time...

Monday of the First Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Hebrews 1:1-6; Psalm 97:1-2.6-7.9; Mark 1:14-20

In our first reading, which is the beginning of the Letter to the Hebrews, the inspired writer calls the son of God, through whom God now speaks, the “refulgence” of God’s glory.¹ “Refulgence” is what we might call an old-fashioned word, one that is not used much these days.

“Refulgence” means something like “to shine brightly” or, more succinctly, to be “radiant.” Indeed, the Son, Jesus Christ, radiates His Father’s glory. He does this, according to the inspired author, by being the very mark, or sign, of God’s character. This helps make sense of Jesus words to Philip: “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.”²

This passage also that in speaking to us “through the Son,” something new and greater than anything that has happened before is now occurring. Not only is the Son greater than the prophets, He is above the angels. As our responsorial implores: “Let all his angels worship him.”³

This seems fitting for the day after our observance of the Baptism of the Lord. Jesus’ baptism by John in the Jordan was a full theophany in which the Father, Son, and Spirit make themselves manifest. Immediately after His baptism, Jesus spent forty days in the desert fasting and praying. Our Gospel today is Saint Mark’s account of what began to unfold after Jesus’ time in the desert, namely His Galilean ministry.

What does God say to us through His Son? He says: “This is the time of fulfillment. The Kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the Gospel.”⁴ Those who heed the Lord’s call to repent and believe (it is important that “repent” comes before “believe”) are then called to follow Him, to be His disciples.

True repentance consists of following Jesus, making discipleship not the most important thing in life, but as the life that is truly life. All other concerns become secondary at best, even family and business concerns. What the Lord calls us to is radical.

Simon and Andrew as well James and John set the bar for Christian discipleship. At no point did Jesus tell them to go home, pray about it, seek counsel from friends and family, and get back to Him. He said, “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.” Without hesitation, “they abandoned their nets and followed him.”⁵

These men recognized the in-breaking of God’s kingdom into the world in and through this radiant man, Jesus of Nazareth. At that point, there is little doubt they could not have articulated what it was that made them leave everything and follow Him. I think perhaps the Lord didn’t tell them where they were going because He is the starting point and the destination; He is the kingdom of God in person.

Our readings for this Monday of the First Week in Ordinary Time, which falls very early in the New Year, pose a question: What concerns, worries, fears, hold you back from following Jesus, from giving yourself to Him wholly, that is, body, blood, soul, and humanity? What nets do you need to abandon?

---

1 Hebrews 1:3.^↩
2 John 14:9.^↩
3 Psalm 97:7.^↩
4 Mark 1:15.^↩
5 Mark 1:16-20.^↩

Some streams flowing from the Lord's Baptism

At least for Roman Catholics in the United States, today's observance of the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord brings the Christmas season to an end. Hence, tomorrow is Monday of the First Week in Ordinary Time. This period of Ordinary Time extends to Ash Wednesday, which observance ushers in the season of Lent.

I probably make too big a deal about my revulsion (not too strong a word) of the secular season that tends to obliterate, not just Advent, but also Christmas as a season. Once it arrives, however, I love the season of Christmas. This year, even more than in recent years, I am sorry to see the season go. Time moves inexorably forward. Like most people, I suppose, I feel the pull of time's current more acutely as I grow older.

Today, I welcome the chance to reflect on this feast in a free form kind of way. What follows is a jumble of the kinds of generative ideas I have when I begin to think about what I might say when preaching the readings for a particular Sunday. Of course, these streams can't all be pursued when preaching. But it's nice to be able provide a few sketches.

Speculating on why it is that Jesus accepted baptism at the hands of John the Baptist, Archbishop Fulton Sheen suggested that rather than being cleansed from sin, as the sacrament of baptism would come to signify, symbolize, and ex opere operato achieve, that by entering the water and being baptized, the Lord Jesus began His ministry of taking our sins upon Himself. It is an interesting thought, kind of like a negative image of baptism. The first verse of the hymn for the Office of Readings for today's feast in the 4-volume edition I am using, relates to this idea:

When Jesus comes to be baptized,
He leaves the hidden years behind,
The years of safety and of peace,
To bear the sins of all mankind.

An older theological idea has it that by His baptism, Jesus sanctified the waters, which in the ancient world and even to some extent now, were something to be feared. Seafaring, as the life of Saint Paul shows, was a dangerous business!

In the second reading for the Office of Readings, Saint Gregory Nazianzus, in a sermon on the Lord's Baptism, pulls these strands together: "certainly [Jesus] comes [to John to be baptized] to bury sinful humanity in the waters. He comes to sanctify the Jordan for our sake and in readiness for us; he who is spirit and flesh comes to begin a new creation through the Spirit and water."

Water is both life-giving and life-threatening. On the one hand, without water you die and sooner than you will perish for lack of food. On the other, water can be and sometimes is terribly destructive. Israel's exodus through the Red Sea, which features prominently in the blessing of baptismal water, shows us this.

It stands to reason that being the Only Begotten Son of the Father, Jesus neither needed to reborn through baptism nor have any sin washed away. Taking a sacramental view, which is really to take a Christian view, it seems far too trite to simply say He did it to set a good example for us. Something that is easy to overlook is that with the appearance of the Holy Spirit and voice of the Father confirming Jesus as His Son, the sacrament of confirmation is also foreshadowed.

Baptism of Christ, David Zelenka, 2005

Another thing easy to overlook in Saint Luke's account is that after His baptism by John in the River Jordan, Jesus began to pray. It seems that, according to Luke, the Lord's experience of the Holy Spirit descending like a dove and hearing the Father's confirmation of His identity were the results of His prayer. Maybe the point here is that being made children of God through baptism, like Jesus, we can now to pray to God as our Father.

Being Year C of the three year Sunday lectionary, during which the Church focuses on the Gospel According to Saint Luke, we have two readings from Luke. You see, the same inspired author composed both Luke's Gospel and the Acts of the Apostles. The passage from Acts that serves as today's second reading is part of a section often called "the Pentecost of the Gentiles."

Our reading from Acts consits of a homily given by Saint Peter in the house of the Roman centurion Cornelius, who had come to faith in Christ and then called for Peter. These words are the result of a conversion Peter had in coming to Cornelius. Peter needed to grasp that the Gospel is for everyone, Jew and Gentile alike. Of course, as we know, even after this, Peter continued to be a bit wishy-washy, uncharitably one might say "two-faced," about this matter. Something for which Saint Paul upbraided him (see Galatians 2:11-14).

Nonetheless, as a result of Peter's preaching on this occasion, the Holy Spirit descended on the members of Cornelius' household and they were baptized.The Gospel of Jesus Christ is universal, it's for everyone, no exceptions. While this kind of universalism is common to us, it was pretty radical in the ancient Mediterranean world and beyond.

It is important to grasp that baptism, to which confirmation is very closely linked, is the fundamental sacrament of Christian life. Baptism, confirmation, Eucharist are the sacraments of Christian initiation. Reception of these fully incorporates a person into Christ, making her/him members of Christ's Body, the Church.

Contrary to what many seem to believe and assert, the sacrament of orders (you can only call it "holy" orders when you refer to matrimony and "holy matrimony") is not the premier sacrament. Along with matrimony, orders is what Owen Cummings has called a "diaconal" sacrament, that is, a sacrament at the service of communion, as we learn in basic catechesis.

Pope Francis has been very wise in warning us against the tendency to want to "clericalize" the Church. It isn't that the Church needs to be "de-clericalized." Rather, the balance envisioned by the Second Vatican Council as set forth in Lumen Gentium and Gaudium et Spes needs to continue being sought after and more fully realized. Whatever you may think about synodality either in principle or execution (I have mixed feelings about both), this is really its goal.

Reflecting on one's own baptism, its purpose, its meaning, its rights, its responsibilities seems a very good way to enter back into Ordinary Time and, even now, a New Year. In this way the stream of time and eternity can flow into each other in and through you.

The politics of dancing

This post was originally part of my end-of-year post for New Year's Eve. As you can see, it is a digression and a long one at that. Truth be told, while the political landscape has changed tremendously, my personal politics haven't really changed that much since I was a young man. For those of us who came of age politically a long time ago, it's easy to be misunderstood.

When it comes to politics, my Catholic faith shapes and forms my views. One of the things that drew me to the Catholic Church as an undergraduate in college was her social teaching. Letting faith lead when it comes to politics seems to me to get things the right way around. Besides, within the domain of Church Social Teaching, on many issues, there is room for some diversity of thought and opinion.

I grasp that this makes me incomprehensible to a lot of people. What this means when described using secular terms is that in some ways I am liberal and some ways I am conservative and in some ways my view doesn't fit either category as presently understood. I have issues with both major parties for some of the same reasons and also for different reasons. There are reasons that I like both and reasons I dislike both.

For example, I am opposed to abortion and the death penalty. I understand that the two aren't morally equivalent, except in the case when an innocent person is executed (See "Giving the gift of life and Jesus' toughest commandment"). When it comes to immigration the U.S. Bishops summarize my views on this multi-facted issue in their very recent document "Catholic Elements of Immigration Reform."

I believe firmly in what the U.S. bishops teach about the importance of using prudential judgment when voting. I increasingly believe that a conscientious decision not to vote, especially for national offices, is a morally valid position. Of course, this differs from not voting out of laziness or apathy. But the norm is to vote, which means realizing that there are no ideal candidates.

I find voting excruciating. I am neither MAGA nor woke, which I see as the new names for those on the polar extremes of the political spectrum. Over time, these designations will change again. Like most people, I am somewhere in between these two while perhaps sharing a few positions with both sides. I tend to be socially conservative and economically something of a social democrat, as long as that is taken to mean one who adheres to Catholic Social Teaching. Guess what? If polling over many years is to be believed, the position above is that of many people, not just in the U.S. but in other western countries.

I think for-profit healthcare is problematic. At least in its current form it is expensive and ineffective. In the U.S. we pay far more for healthcare by any measure than any other advanced country and have worse outcomes. I realize there are different means to achieve agreed upon ends. I would think one end would be to ensure everyone has access to healthcare, especially routine and preventative care.

The political position I described above used to have a home in the Democratic Party, especially Democrats from the western United States. At least during his political career, which consisted of one term in the Georgia State Senate and one term as governor of Georgia in addition to his one term as president, Jimmy Carter, who died last week aged 100, was by-and-large that kind of Democrat. He only became "progressive" years, even decades, after losing to Ronald Reagan in 1980. Nonetheless, even in 1976, Carter did not win one western state. Let's not forget that Joe Biden was once that kind of Democrat, too.

As the societal consensus required for such a system of government continues to be strained to the breaking point, liberal democracy, with its rule by the 50.000000001%, or by a plurality of less than half of citizens who even bother to vote, is rapidly approaching a serious reckoning. Even this past election, which in terms of the Electoral College, which I support, was an overwhelming victory for President Trump, was won popularly on a plurality with no candidate securing a majority of votes.

At present, I worry about oligarchy more than ever. People already tolerate oligarchy as long it isn't too obvious. Hence, we might resist it when asserted too blatantly. Since politics now is almost exclusively media-driven optics, it looks bad when unelected rich people seem to start calling the policy shots for duly elected representatives and the president. As the Iron Law of Oligarchy, first posited by sociologist Robert Michels, holds- "all complex organizations, regardless of how democratic they are when started, eventually develop into oligarchies."

Congress needs to step up and assert its constitutional independence to maintain the balance of power on which our form of government depends. This is true of budgetary matters, immigration, and our engagement in miltary action overseas. The executive can't continue to have carte blanche.

Politics are proximate, not ultimate. I am a political realist. Politics, let alone a politician, can't save me, can't save us. Participating as a citizen requires making prudent judgments based on the information available at the time. It involves comparing the candidates' positions, giving due weight to various matters, and comparing the candidates themselves. Oftentimes, people vote based on a vibe. I am pretty sure many of us have cast votes that we regret. Never in my life have I come close to voting a straight party ticket.

Politically speaking, at different times on different matters, I have gone to the left and to the right. This is not incoherent. It is seeking, not a balance, but a genuine response to what is happening. There have been times when, foolishly, I let ideology lead. It's easy enough to do as propaganda is ubiquitous. When it comes to sexual ethics and human sexuality, I have come full circle back to the Church's teaching.

This shift was prompted by some personal experiences I had shortly after taking a slightly different mindset. These experiences were disconcerting enough to help me see things more clearly. Even as an adult, it's easy to get swept up by the crowd. I get that when it comes to human sexuality it is inherently complicated. But now sexuality, matters concerning sex and gender, have become utterly bewildering for most people. With all the claims and counterclaims it's hard to tell what is reliable information and what is propaganda, to tell truth from ideology.

I think sex and gender have grown so bewildering that most people, far from supporting or opposing, many just throw up their hands and say, "Whatever!" Besides, no one wants to be harassed but neither do they want their speech policed, etc. Rest assured, just like before, sexuality will not be the main focus of what I write here but neither is it a forbidden topic.

As a deacon, I committed to service in the name of Christ and His Church. First and foremost, this means loving the people I encounter, being available, being someone to whom people feel they can talk. Pastorally, it's best to engage with those I encounter in an open way.

I am okay with Newman's insistence, found in his book that was a catalyst for my conversion, Essay in Aid of a Grammar of Assent: "In a higher world it is otherwise, but here below to live is to change, and to be perfect is to have changed often." This dynamic of life also serves to make me more humble, a virtue in which I can always stand to grow. I am far from perfect. And so, I need to keep changing. In Christian parlance this is called "conversion."

Our traditio, is the still very danceable 1983 song by Re-Flex, "The Politics of Dancing" -

Monday After Epiphany

Readings: 1 John 3:22-4:6; Psalm 2:7-8.10-12; Matthew 4:12-17.23-25

Today is what some Catholics might call “real” Epiphany. But in reality, at least for Roman Catholics in the U.S., it is the Monday after Epiphany. Today, we begin the last week of Christmas, which ends Sunday with our celebration of the Baptism of the Lord.

We should be grateful for an extended liturgical season of Christmas. This gives us more extension time to reflect more deeply on the Incarnation of the Son of God. Jesus, born in Bethlehem of Judea, is God’s only begotten Son. Being of the same divine substance as the Father, He is begotten, not made. Hence, He is true God from true God.

As was mentioned yesterday, biblically speaking, there isn’t only one epiphany. Our liturgical observance of Epiphany celebrates Christ’s revelation to the nations, to the goyiim, to the non-Israelites. Two important terms are practically synonymous: epiphany and theophany. The Lord’s Baptism by John in the Jordan, as all four Gospels testify, was a such an epiphany/theophany.

By grace, through baptism, we are reborn as children of God. Because we are made, not begotten, we are not God’s children by nature. Before we are children, we are creatures of God. Being the only creature God willed for its own sake; human beings are unique creatures.¹

As Sacred Scripture teaches, human beings were originally made in both the image and likeness of God.² While the image of God, which is the foundation of human personhood, is ineradicable, our likeness to God is lost through sin. Through Christ, God seeks to restore our likeness through grace.

All of this is a prelude to the question prompted by our readings today: Why did God become Incarnate in the person of Jesus? What’s the point of this Incarnation? “Why?” is the most human of questions. To ask “Why?” is to seek meaning. It is the essence of our humanity to find meaning. This is why the journey of the magi is emblematic of our journey, not just as individuals, but as God’s people. God’s people have always been pilgrim people. Christ’s Church is a pilgrim Church.³

The simple answer to the question “Why did God send His Son?” is He sent Him to redeem the world. Christ came to restore our divine likeness. God does not redeem human beings apart from their cooperation, their consent, their desire. Human desire, whether conscious or not, is to understand and then realize the end, the purpose, for which we are made.

The Hundred Guilder Print, Rembrandt, c. 1649

Our Gospel reading for today is Matthew’s telling of the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. This comes after His forty days fasting and praying in the wilderness. This period of preparation, in turn, immediately followed His baptism by John in the Jordan. Given that Bri and Ty are becoming Catechumens at this Mass, it is even more fitting to reflect on baptism.

What is Jesus’ message? “Repent, for the Kingdom of heaven is at hand.”⁴ It bears noting that, according to Origen, who coined a new word to describe this reality, Jesus is autobasileia.⁵ This means that Jesus Christ is the kingdom of heaven in person.

The beginning of repentance is to recognize your sins and then be sorry for them. Contrition entails a firm purpose of amendment to change your life with God’s help. In his Letter to the Romans, Saint Paul insisted: “all have sinned and are deprived of the glory of God.”⁶ In 1 John we hear: “If we say, ‘We have not sinned’ we make him [the Lord] a liar, and his word is not in us.”⁷ Jesus came to call us to repentance and to redeem us from our sins. Redemption, therefore, requires repentance.

While you cannot save yourself, it’s necessary to grasp that salvation is not a passive endeavor. Practicing the spiritual disciplines taught by the Lord Himself: prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, knowing and living the five precepts of the Church, receiving the grace given in the sacrament of penance by going to confession with some frequency, are indispensable for a Christian. Living this way makes you redeemable.

Being redeemable does not mean you somehow earn God’s favor through works. It means living in gratitude for what the Father has done by sending His Son, who, in turn, gives us His Holy Spirit. Far from living a sad sack existence, living as one redeemed is to live joyfully. In this calculus, joy is to happiness what hope is to optimism, especially happiness understood as putting your own satisfaction first.

As the former Christian who became a self-described “anti-Christ,” Frederich Nietzsche declared: “I might believe in the Redeemer if his followers looked more redeemed.”⁸ Since today the Church remembers Saint Andre Bessette, speaking from his own experience and somewhat echoing Nietzsche’s own take on dealing with life’s inevitable struggles, he told us something about what it means to live a redeemed and redemptive life: “Do not seek to have these trials lifted from you. Instead, ask for the grace to bear them well.”

---

1 Second Vatican Council. Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World [Gaudium et spes], sec. 24.^↩
2 Genesis 1:27.^↩
3 Second Vatican Council. Dogmatic Constitution on the Church [Lumen Gentium], secs. 7.21 & Chap VII. ^↩
4 Matthew 4:17.^↩
5 Origen. Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew, Book XIV, chap. 7.^↩
6 Romans 3:23..^↩
7 1 John 1:1-10.^↩
8 Frederich Nietzsche. Thus Spake Zarathustra, Part II, Chapter 26, “The Priests.”^↩

Epiphany, epiphanies, and epiphanising

Virtually (actually?), everywhere else in the world, Catholics celebrate the Lord's Epiphany on a fixed day: 6 January. Here in the United States, we celebrate it the second Sunday after Christmas Day. Hence, this year we will come close to observing this important day on its traditional date.

For those who don't know, 6 January marks the end of the 12 Days of Christmas. In other countries, it also marks the end of the liturgical season of Christmas. Catholics in U.S. end Christmas on the Baptism of Lord. So, even after our observance of Epiphany, this year we will still have an entire week of Christmas.

An epiphany is a sudden realization, perhaps even a revelation. It might also be described as a moment of heightened perception, a moment when you seem to see things in their true light, one might say, see things as they really are. Epiphanies yield an insights.

I am not a literary scholar, but I believe it was James Joyce who brought the term "epiphany" into English literature. In in his novel Stephen Hero, published in 1944, but started in 1904 and likely finished not long after that, Joyce set forth his idea of epiphany.

It has been said that in Finnegan's Wake Joyce tried to epiphanise everything. A notoriously difficult read, Finnegan's Wake, which must be read out loud, is written a bit like speaking in tongues, which seems to me a fitting way to speak and write about epiphanies.

Of course, this all makes the arrival of the magi at the house in Bethlehem in Matthew 2, at least in literary terms, seem pedestrian. But there is nothing pedestrian about it. The so-called wise men traveled westward, following a star, seeking the King of Jews. This led them first to Herod, who, in political, that is, human terms, was the King of the Jews or at least a king of Jews. These men from the East didn't know who exactly this King of Jews was, but they knew it wasn't Herod.

Winding up as they did in Jerusalem at the royal palace they did not find the real King of the Jews. Eventually, the magi found who they sought, the real King of Jews. Herod, with the help of his experts, directed them to Bethlehem. Despite his helpful demeanor, Herod was desperate to find and kill this potential rival.

Jumping forward to the penultimate (love using that word!) chapter of Matthew (27:37, to be exact), Jesus is once again designated "King of the Jews." By nailing a sign with that title on it to Jesus' cross, the Romans mocked the Jews. They engaged in a bit of political taunting: "This naked, beaten, bloody, peasant is your king, idiots." Yet, what was meant to be a mocking title was not just this man's real title but His true identity. What the magi, who represent "the nations," show us is that Jesus isn't only the King of the Jews, He is Lord of all.

This all revolves around reality, what is really real. Things aren't always as they appear because appearances can be deceptive. If you reduce to reality to what isn't only empirically demonstrable but what is perceptible to your senses, you live pretty far from reality. And so, despite all appearances, Jesus, not Herod, is the real King of the Jews. This tells us a lot about God (See Philippians 2:5-11).

I am reminded of an exeprience shared by our professor pastoral counseling in my doctorate program at Mount Angel Seminary. While a priest, this professor works primarily as a psychologist. And so, he doesn't usually wear clericals. He wears an open neck collared shirt, dress trousers and shoes, and a sport coat. One morning after teaching his class at seminary, where he is an adjunct and teaches only seminarians during their last year (and doctoral students), he was asked by the rector if he could say Mass for the seminarians because the seminary's regular faculty needed to have a meeting.

This priest, psychologist, professor agreed and proceeded to the sacristy of the chapel. Once in the sacristy, he was looking at albs, seeing which one would fit him. As he did this, a seminarian, dressed in clericals, came in and, seeing him, asked, "Are you a priest?" He replied, "Yes." The seminarian responded by saying, "Well, you don't look like one." This prompted the professor to say, "Isn't that funny. You look like a priest but aren't one and I don't yet I am one."

During this time Eucharistic Revival, we talk a lot (I mean a lot) about Jesus' "Real Presence" in the Eucharist. Very often this is done in an unhelpfully reductive way. By this I mean reducing His Real Presence to the consecrated species of bread and wine. Yet, in its Dogmatic Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, Sacrosanctum Concilium (see section 7), the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council, sets forth four ways that Christ is truly (i.e., really) present in the Eucharist.

First it must be noted that "the Eucharist" does not merely refer to the consecrated host, or even the consecrated host and consecrated wine. It refers to the Eucharistic Liturgy in its entirety. It was renewal of the Liturgy that the Council fathers sought to bring about with this Constitution. As a side note, taking my cue from a lecture Pope Benedict XVI gave on the fortieth anniversary of Sacrosanctum Concilium in 2003, before becoming pope, the Church needs a thorough re-reading of this Constitution (See "The Liturgical Legacy of Pope Benedict XVI").

Mass, the Eucharistic liturgy, is the source and summit of Christian faith. Hence, we must overcome our reductive tendency. All Eucharistic worship outside of Mass needs to be tied to the Mass. Why? Because you can't have Eucharistic worship outside of Mass without Mass. For Mass, you need the Church, which is what it means to say "the Eucharist makes the Church and the Church makes the Eucharist."

And so, we recognize that Christ is present in the assembly, the gathering of the baptized. We receive Him aurally as well as orally in Mass because He is really present in the proclamation of Sacred Scripture. Christ is present in the person of the priest. Then, the culmination of all this is, by the power of the Holy Spirit, our simple gifts of bread and wine become His body and blood. This brings us to apex, the summit, of the Eucharistic liturgy: Holy Communion. It is by means of receiving Communion that the word of scripture is to become enfleshed in you.

When reduced to something akin to a magic trick, Real Presence becomes a struggle for many because it isn't obvious that this is what happens on the altar. Rather than reduce, we need to expand, to encounter Christ in our sisters and brothers, to hear Christ in Sacred Scripture (hopefully aided by decent preaching). Then, having had this encounter, during which you receive Christ, you bring Him to whomever you meet and wherever you go. This is what it means to really live. At its deepest, reality is the Paschal Mystery of Christ.

You and I, along with everyone who receives Christ in Holy Communion, are meant to be proof of the truthfulness of the Church's belief in the Real Presence. Therefore, each of us is to be an Epiphany.

It makes no sense to get bogged down with proving the unproveable. Sure, you can help others make sense of transubstantiation so maybe they can understand that it is intellectually defensible and not some crazy religious belief unmoored from reality. Ultimately, believing the sacred species are transformed is a belief of faith. As with other beliefs of faith, like, say, the Trinity, while not contrary to reason, it is not demonstrable by reason alone. Faith is required. Even for those who believe, this belief cannot be some discrete, disconnected, acontextual thing that happens in a vacuum and that has little or no bearing on your life.

The Eucharistic Liturgy is called "Mass" because this is derived from the Latin missa. Missa refers both to being, not just dismissed, but sent as well as what you're sent to do- missio- or mission.

On the Tenth Day of Christmas... comedy

During my early-to-late teenage years, I spent a lot of time listening to music and comic albums with friends. Back then, it was a great joy to have friends over or go to someone's house, turn off he lights, put the record on the turntable or in the cassette deck, turn it on, then just lay on the floor and listen. I still do that sometimes in my den, though these days by myself.

Woody Allen doing his stand-up act in the early 1960s

We listened to comedy albums by, among others, Steve Martin, Robin Williams, Woody Allen (yes, he did stand-up and was good). On one of Allen's records, he talks about driving into Manhattan to audition for a play. The part for which he was auditioning, which he said was "type casting," was God. During his drive, someone cut him off in traffic. Trying to get into character for his audition, he told them "Be fruitful and multiply," only he didn't use those words.

We also found Bob Newhart comedy albums our dads owned. I remember with particular fondness Monty Python's Contractual Obligation album. I still know the words to all the songs on this album, such as "Finland"- "Altogether, Fin-o-philes!" The contents of these albums would certainly never meet with parental approval. Some of the particularly explicit material that felt so transgressive to my relatively naive young self doesn't appeal much to me these days.

In the heyday of Second City Televsion (a.k.a. SCTV), Doug and Bob McKenzie were a treat. Their The Great White North album is hilarious. Just two hose head brohers from Canada, eh. On this Tenth Day of Christmas, therefore, it seems fitting to have the McKenzie brothers' unique take on the Twelve Days of Christmas as our traditio.

While I am at it, as a bonus, I am including their collaboration with Rush bassist, Geddy Lee. The result of this collaboration is the song "Take Off." As Lee says at the beginning: "You know, ten bucks is ten bucks."

Enjoying an "abundance of peace"

Each year for the past few years, on New Year's night or the day before I have to "get back to it" after the holiday break, I've posted a snippet from The Imitation of Christ. I re-read the Imitation last year and benefitted greatly from it. It's funny, yet understandable, why Nietzsche hated this work so much.

To put it in the most general of terms, The Imitation of Christ, along with The Practice of the Presence of God, are about the importance of cultivating a deeply personal relationship with Christ. As we celebrate the Incarnation of God's Only Begotten Son at Christmastime, it makes sense to point out that the Lord came in the flesh precisely to make such a relationship possible for all.

Rooted as it is in the Eucharist, which is the most intense personal encounter with Christ imaginable, knowing Christ more and more, through life's peaks and valleys, is the anchor of faith.

We may enjoy abundance of peace if we refrain from busying ourselves with the sayings and doings of others, and things which concern not ourselves. How can he abide long time in peace who occupieth himself with other men’s matters, and with things without himself, and meanwhile payeth little or rare heed to the self within? Blessed are the single-hearted, for they shall have abundance of peace (Imitation of Christ, Book I, Chap. XI, 1)

To a very great extent, social media immerses one in what Thomas à Kempis urges us to avoid.

Peace to you as you embark on another year. Remember, God is with you.

Solemnity of Mary, the Mother of God

This is the first New Year's Day in several years that I haven't preached. In my homilies over the past few years for this Solemnity, I've encouraged those listening to commit to praying the Rosary everyday during the year. This means between today and 31 December praying 365 Rosaries of the Most Holy Rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary. I renew that challenge today.

Lest this challenge amount to nothing more than the breath it takes to utter, it's a discipline I practice. I even go so far as to keep count of the number of Rosaries each year. For example, last year (2024), I recited 375. By "Rosary," I mean one complete set of mysteries (i.e. Joyful, Luminous, Sorrowful, Glorious), that is, 5 decades.

While I do at times pray the Rosary contemplatively (something I am going to strive to do more of this year), I usually pray it while walking. Most days, as I begin my recitation, I offer up several intentions. I pray from big to small, that is, for things in the world, an end to wars and violent conflicts, the safety of innocents caught in the hell that is war, for leaders, for my family, especially my children, for people who are sick, for those who are suffering, and certainly for those who ask me to pray for them for specific intentions.

I also say at least one Memorare each day. Usually, more than one. Besides, according to the Church, devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary is an essential component of diaconal spirituality.

These devotions do not exhaust my prayer life. They do, however, enhance it greatly. Some days, in addition to Morning and Evening Prayer, these may well constitute my prayers. If so, that's just fine.

Photograph by Rev. Keith Littlejohn, Church of Saint Mary's, Goring-by-Sea, U.K.

The Blessed Virgin Mary is not merely Christotokos, she is Theotokos, not merely Christ-bearer, but God-bearer, the Mother of God. While the Son is consubtantial with the Father, He is also consubstantial with His mother and, through her, with us.

We venerate the saints, those men and women, varied as they are, who bear witness to Christ by their lives and now, in the presence of God, intercede for us. Seeking their intercession is an important part of our faith. As Fr. Tonino Lasconi, an Italian parish priest and author of numerous volumes on the renewal of catechesis, noted: "Without the saints, the faith vanishes."

Christians do not worship Mary. Worship, as the first commandment directs, is due to God and God alone. But we do not merely venerate our Blessed Mother either. In a similar way (since I've invoked the Decalogue), the fourth commandment that enjoins us to honor father and mother falls between the first three commandments about loving God and final six about loving our neighbor. You see, parents, even absent ones, occupy a unique place between God and other people. Just so, Mary, our Mother, occupies her own space between God and His saints.

While we do not worship Mary, we do pray to her. By so doing, we honor her in a fitting and unique way. I can think of no better way to start 2025 than assisting at Mass for this Solemnity and, yes, by praying the Most Holy Rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

A Happy and Blessed New Year to you. Through the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary and all God's Saints, may you have a healthy and prosperous 2025.