topleft05.jpg (18208 bytes)HOMILY
Fourth Sunday of Advent (C)
20 December 09
 


 

In 1865, a young Anglican clergyman from down the street in Philadelphia had grown tired and found himself needing “to get his act together.”  So, the Rev. Phillips Brooks (1835-1903) decided to take a sabbatical.  He ended up traveling to and visiting the Holy Land.

Near the end of his sabbatical, the Rev. Brooks was traveling around the Holy Land on horseback.  On Christmas eve, the young Protestant minister found himself on a hilltop overlooking Bethlehem, six miles southwest of Jerusalem.  The Rev. Brooks was awestruck by how tiny Bethlehem was, especially as he considered Bethlehem’s prominence in the story of salvation history.

As the Rev. Brooks gazed upon Bethlehem from the hilltop, he saw how tiny a town Bethlehem really was but, even so, how it shined forth a message that was far more powerful than all the glitz of a great city like Jerusalem.  Contemplating all of this, the Rev. Brooks took out a pencil and piece of paper and began writing a poem:

O little town of Bethlehem
How still we see thee lie
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting Light
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight.

For Christ is born of Mary
And gathered all above
While mortals sleep, the angels keep
Their watch of wondering love
O morning stars together
Proclaim the holy birth
And praises sing to God the King
And Peace to men on earth.

How silently, how silently
The wondrous gift is given!
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of His heaven.
No ear may hear His coming,
But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive him still,
The dear Christ enters in.

O holy Child of Bethlehem
Descend to us, we pray
Cast out our sin and enter in
Be born to us today
We hear the Christmas angels
The great glad tidings tell
O come to us, abide with us
Our Lord Emmanuel.

 

Upon returning to Philadelphia and resuming his ministerial duties, the Rev. Brooks shared his poem with the church organist, Lewis Henry Redner (1831-1908), who wrote the melody for the Sunday school children’s choir.  Today, that poem and melody are known over all the world as the traditional Christmas carol, “O Little Town of Bethlehem.”

So, there you have a little factoid to share with your family and friends this upcoming holiday season!  But, what is really important about this story and why I bring it up today is not that tidbit of trivia but that heaven united with earth in the persons of the Rev. Phillips Brooks and Lewis Redner—God became incarnate in each of these two men—bequeathing to humanity a gift revealing something of God’s life as the poem and hymn touches down into and speaks to the void people feel within almost one and one-half centuries later.

The little town of Bethlehem is very much like the small Czechoslovakian farming town of Penelope, Texas, located about twenty miles north of Waco.  Did you know there were Czechoslovakian immigrants living in Texas?  Ever heard of Penelope, Texas?  I bet many of you have because, as you turn off the highway and cross the railroad tracks headed toward Main Street in Penelope, there’s a sign painted on a big, white barn which proclaims “Penelope, Texasthe birthplace of Willie Nelson.”  So, there you have a second factoid to share with your family and friends!

But, here’s what’s really important about Penelope, Texas, and why I brought it up today.  Just a stretch of road beyond that barn and the railroad tracks is Main Street in Penelope.  It’s nothing but a dirt road and, during the hot, parched summer months, it’s a very dusty dirt road.  At the farthest corner of town—“Center City” is two blocks long—there’s a general store boasting one gas pump.  The general store is located across the street and down one block from a very small Catholic church that’s rather non-descript on the outside.  But, on the inside, this little church in Penelope, Texas, is anything but non-descript:

  • there’s the highly polished oak floor, walls, ceiling, and pews;

  • there’s the intricately hand-carved Stations of the Cross and altar; and,

  • there’s beautifully colored stained glass windows recounting bible stories.
     

When the sun shines brightly, as it was the day I had the opportunity to visit Penelope, the entire church—floor, walls, and ceiling—gleams and glistens in hues of gold.  Looking around and soaking in the majesty, the church reveals the community’s pride in this building, yes, but even something more: the church symbolizes the intersection of heaven and earth in their lives.  It’s in this church that Czechoslovakian Catholics living in Penelope, Texas, have worshipped weekly, married, baptized and confirmed their children, and buried their dead.  In that simple but stunningly beautiful building, heaven and earth are joined…as they have been since those first Czechs immigrated to Penelope in the mid-1800s.

The Advent prayer, Maranatha (“Come, Lord Jesus”), is not some short, pious prayer sweetly asking God for a gift, much in the way my sister used to ask our Dad for some little trinket.  No, Maranatha is a command, one where we demand God to break into our lives and shatter walls and ramparts we have built up to keep God out of our lives.  We make this demand in the hope that heaven and earth will intersect in the emptiness we feel within as we use the weeks of Advent to seek reconciliation with God so that God will be made flesh in us.

This prayer—“Come, Lord Jesus”—emerges in today’s gospel which tells us that heaven and earth unite in the lowly not the sophisticated or the high and mighty.  It is in the little town of Bethlehem, not the capital city of Jerusalem, where God unites heaven and earth.  It is to an unmarried teenager, not the properly married Queen of Israel, that God unites heaven and earth.  And, it is as an infant, not as an Emperor, King, or Tetrarch, that God unites heaven and earth.  God is with us (in Hebrew, “Emmanu-el”), in the One who saves us (in Hebrew, “Jesus”).  God is manifesting His desire to save us!

Maranatha” we cry out during the season of Advent, making our demand of God:

  • “Come Lord, You who confound strength with weakness, intelligence with wisdom, and pride with humility.”

  • “Come Lord, break through my strength exposing my weakness, baffle my intelligence by illuminating my ignorance, and tear asunder my pride by teaching me humility.”
     

Notice how this simple Advent prayer contradicts the false illusions and pretensions of any of us who would scoff at the thought of heaven uniting with earth in Bethlehem and Penelope, Texas.  No, those people regale at and are deceived by the glitz of the big cities, like Jerusalem and Dallas or New York and Philadelphia.  They mock a simple dirt road two blocks in length that serves as Main Street, yearning instead to be noticed in Times Square or Society Hill.  And, they use EZ-Pass to ensure that they will never, ever have to make contact with any human being who would live in such a backward cow town.

The entire notion that God becomes incarnate reminds each and every one of us that Christianity is about a human being—real flesh—and that heaven and earth intersect when we invited God to fill up the emptiness of our lives and, then, as we do God’s will through “obedience and sacrifice,” as St. Paul wrote in today’s epistle.

Advent is the season of four weeks when we prepare ourselves for heaven to  unite with earth in us as we demand that God fill up the empty center of our lives, just as God did with Mary.  “Blessed are you,” Elizabeth says to Mary, “who trust that the Lord’s words to you will be fulfilled.”

What constitutes the empty center of your life?  Is it a troubled relationship with your spouse? difficulties in understanding and dealing with a child? longstanding fissures in your extended family? the loss of a beloved spouse our child? guilt over very bad decisions made years ago, the effects of which continue to live on? pain and anguish over “what could have been” but “will never be” due to laziness, fear, pride, or anger?  Do you believe that God’s word to you will be fulfilled?

As we all know, and probably most of all, our young people, all of these religious reflections present a challenge because they are more boring than are all of those other, more pressing matters that are on many of our minds today.  There’s all of that fantasizing about the stash of loot—that “cornucopia of unbridled avarice,” Ralphie called it in The Christmas Storywe are praying Santa will bring us on Christmas day.  There’s all the last minute shopping and all the presents still to be wrapped.  There’s also all of that serious cooking which needs to get started so that everything will come off perfectly on Christmas day.

Yet, all of that not only is distracting but also is superfluous because today is the fourth Sunday of Advent.  The press of the holiday season with its festivities are tempting us to forsake the final few days we have to prepare for heaven to unite with earth in each of us.  If we fail to allow God to fill that void at the center of our lives, then all of the rest—the hopes and dreams of all the gifts, the feasting, and the Christmas carols—are nothing but a pretense and sacrilegious sham because heaven is not uniting with earth, God is not made flesh in us, and we show no indication that we believe God’s word to us will be fulfilled.

It’s so easy, isn’t it, to get so caught up in preparing for Christmas that we forget about preparing that emptiness deep within so that, when we cry out and demand Maranatha, heaven will be united with earth as God is made flesh in us.

There are but a last few days of Advent.  It is time for us to recognize our weakness and frailty, to admit our ignorance and confusion, and to be troubled by our pride and arrogance—our “lowliness”—and demand that God fill up our emptiness by becoming flesh in us.  Maranatha!

Each of these last few days of Advent, let us recall the Rev. Phillips Brooks poem, “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” Heaven unites with earth “Where meek souls will receive him still” and “the hopes and fears of all the years will meet in thee—that’s you and me—tonight.”

 

 

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As Catholics, we prepare for Christ's coming by celebrating the season of Advent.  During these four weeks, we prepare the way for Christ to come into our lives each and every day, not just on Christmas day.  For Catholic families, let me suggest five practical ways to prepare for Christ's coming:

1. Place an advent wreath in the center of your dinner table.  Each evening before sitting down for dinner, have one member offer a prayer of thanksgiving to God for the gift of life, recall by name those who matter the most in the family's life, and name one thing that individual will do before the day ends to meet a family member's need. The individual offering the prayer will then light the appropriate candle(s).

Looking for an advent wreath?  The best advent wreath (and Christmas wreath, by the way) is made of holly not evergreen.  The elements of holly (the holly itself and the red berries) recall the crucifixion of Christ.  He was crowned with thorns.  The thorns bit into his brow, causing red drops of blood to flow.  No color is more associated with Christmas than red, the color of Good Friday.  This symbolism is consistent with scripture: "By the Lord's stripes we are healed."  So, the holly is green, a color associated with life and hope—reminding us of the birth of the Savior—and the berries are red—reminding us of how the gift of eternal life has been won for us through the blood of Christ.

I don't think it's easy to find holly wreathes, but then, I've never looked for one!   I do know that a round metal wire holder and plastic holly branches can be purchased at Michael's.  That would do the trick.  Then remember: three purple and one pink candle.  And, don't forget to place the Advent calendar on the front of the refrigerator.

2. Use an Advent calendar   Hang an advent calendar on the refrigerator door beginning on December 1st.  Each morning, before everyone scatters for the day, have one member of the family open one door and read the scripture verse or describe the biblical scene behind the door.  This is a great way for family members to keep focused on the coming of Christ for the rest of the day.

3. Make a Jesse tree.  The Jesse tree is the traditional way that Catholics recall Jesus' heritage, coming from the line of King David, the son of Jesse.  Have members of the family make a symbol for each day of Advent that marks an important moment in Israel's history (e.g., Noah's ark, Jacob's ladder, Moses' stone tablets, David's harp).  Then, each evening before everyone goes to bed, gather the family around the Jesse tree, have the family member explain the symbol, and hang it on the tree.

4. Celebrate the Feast of St. Nicholas on December 6th.  One way to "put Christ back into Christmas" is to reclaim the faith-filled life of heroic virtue revealed in the great Christian saint, St. Nicholas of Myra.  Besides sharing simple gifts with family members, like placing candy in shoes that have been left outside of the bedroom door, share some time with people who are alone, in the hospital, convalescing, etc.

5. Celebrate God's mercy.  Advent is a particularly fitting time for every member of the family to welcome the light of God's forgiveness into the dark places of family life.  Gather the family together and go to church to celebrate the Sacrament of Penance together.  Then, go out for pizza to celebrate God's mercy and a new beginning free from sin.

By participating in these five practical activities to prepare for Christmas day, Catholic families will not only have contemplated their need for God and God's self-revelation through salvation history.  In addition, they will have experienced God present and active in their family's life.  Then, on Christmas day, when family members greet one another by saying, "Merry Christmas," they all will truly be prepared to celebrate the Mass wherein Christ will strengthen and nourish them with his body and blood to bring Christ to the world. 

 

 

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