1st Week of Lent

AUDIO of Reflection Text by FR. Tony Diaz

It is time for Spring cleaning! It is time to dust ourselves off to see what God sees and loves in us; it is time to remove the obstacles of our lives that prevent us from living in the freedom of the children of God; it is time to clean the windows of our hearts to transmit the light of Christ.  Perhaps when you look at yourself you may feel overwhelmed by the many challenges in your life.  Well, do not lose heart, just take one or two things and focus on them.  Imagine and visualize how your life could be different through those changes; now think what your obstacles are in getting you there, and then make a realistic plan for moving from where you are now to where you need to be.  Where does God and lent fit in all this?

Lent is about returning to God; it is about healing; it is about retaking the dignity and identity that belong to us as sons and daughters of God.  Lent is about living from the fundamental reality that you are loved, accepted and blessed by God right now; not because you have earned or deserved it, but simply because God offers it to you in and through Christ.  “The Kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the Good News” Lent is the time of retreat in preparation to celebrate the victory that God has won for us in the resurrection of Jesus Christ.  How can we come to Easter rejoicing if we have only focused on our sinfulness and not on God’s love? Despite your spiritual poverty, you are loved; despite your sinfulness, you are loved! That is the Good News! Repent and believe, not because of the fear of going to hell; repent and believe because you are loved. To live in fear, even of God, is no life at all.

The essence of Christianity is not the management or avoidance of sin.  The heart of Christianity is the management of love, mercy, compassion and the justice of God.  Build your life on these pillars and sin will take care of itself. Put the energy, time and resources in the service of love, mercy and compassion; in seeing the other as your neighbor, your brother and sister in Christ, and sin will take care of itself.  We use so much energy, time, and resources in trying to manage sin that we have no time and energy to give love, mercy and compassion a chance.  This Lenten season make a radical option for love, mercy, compassion and the justice of God and choose not to live in fear!  And even when fear may strike you, look beyond it and put your trust in the fact that God believes in you, trusts in you, and hopes in you. Make this Lent count! Spend your energy and time in managing love, mercy and compassion, not wasting your time in managing sin.  When you live out of love, sin takes care of itself.

2nd Sunday of Lent

AUDIO of Reflection Text by FR. Tony Diaz

The three readings for this Sunday speak to us of journeys, with uncertain destinations, but trusting only in the one who calls us. In the first reading God tells Abram: "Go forth from the land of your kinsfolk and from your father's house to a land that I will show you. I will make of you a great nation.” Trusting in the promise of the one who calls him, Abram embarks on this great adventure. In the New Testament the author of the letter to the Hebrews and Saint Paul makes great use of Abram's faith as an example for us. Although we do not know details of what this call of God will bring us, in faith, we trust that the one who calls us will also provide what is necessary to respond with fidelity and courage. Likewise, in the second letter to Timothy, Saint Paul tells his disciple Timothy to not be intimidated by the sufferings and challenges of preaching the Gospel. “He saved us and called us to a holy life, not according to our works but according to his own design and the grace bestowed on us in Christ Jesus before time began.”

In this Sunday's gospel we have the scene of the Transfiguration. In this scene we are presented with Jesus in conversation with Moses and Elijah. Moses represents the covenant made between Israel and God, from which the law is given to us. Elijah represents the prophetic tradition. Only the Gospel of Luke tells us about the subject of this conversation: "They saw themselves in a state of glory and spoke of his departure (exodus), which was to take place in Jerusalem." (Luke 9:31) After this scene, Jesus heads towards Jerusalem, where his mission will come to completion. Jesus knows that in Jerusalem awaits his passion, death, and resurrection. But, like Abram, Jesus puts all his trust in the one who sent him. The passion and death of Jesus are not something that God demands of him, rather, they are consequences of the fidelity and surrender to the will of the Father. And it is precisely because of his fidelity and surrender, manifested in love for the Father, that God resurrects him; love cannot be destroyed and buried, because sooner or later it will rise again.

As we begin our Lenten journey, these three testimonies of faith are presented to us so that we too can entrust ourselves to the one who calls us. The Lenten season is the call that the church and God offer us to resume our life in Christ. It is a time to identify and name anything and everything that stands in the way of our relationship of intimacy and trust with God; kinship and solidarity with our neighbor; and our dignity and identity as beloved sons and daughters of God. Only when we name and identify all that deprives and enslaves us can we present it before God to heal and liberate us, and thus be able to respond to his call in total freedom. Abraham, Paul, and Christ himself model for us the path of fidelity and surrender; they encourage us to take another step towards the Father. Take courage, trust, and take another step!

3rd Sunday of Lent

AUDIO of Reflection Text by FR. Tony Diaz

For people who live in the desert, an arid and dry place with little rain, access to water is a source of life. In this Sunday's gospel we have Jesus in Samaritan territory talking with a Samaritan woman by Jacob's well. The evangelist John presents us with a scene that goes beyond a simple meeting of Jesus with the Samaritan woman. The Samaritan is not simply a woman; Jesus is not just a Jew; and water is not just water. The Samaritan woman is the image of unfaithful Israel; it is the people prostituted with other gods; she is also a symbol of the soul thirsty for living water. Jesus is the Son of God, the Messiah, the one who was to come. The water represents life in Christ, similar to the image of the bread come down from heaven. For this third Sunday of our Lenten journey, this gospel offers us a mirror to see ourselves in the image of the Samaritan woman.

Jesus tells the Samaritan woman (and us): "If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would ask him, and he would give you living water." As is common in the gospels, Jesus' interlocutors take his words literally, something we also do a lot today. “Knowing the gift of God” is not something we find in a book, in a talk, in a prayer, or in some human wisdom. Where Jesus calls the Samaritan woman (and us) is to our emptiness, to our darkness, to our wounds, to our living death, to recognize that we live in enmity and separation from God, which puts us in conflict and separation with our neighbor, and alien to our true identity and dignity as children of God. In other words, to know ourselves. We will know the gift of God when we recognize our need, our thirst for Him. If there is no thirst for God, we will hardly seek the source of living water: Christ.

Jesus tells the Samaritan woman (and us): "the water that I will give him will become within him a spring capable of giving eternal life." The living water that Jesus offers us is himself, the Reign of God already present among us. The Lenten journey is the call to our awareness of where we are today; to make a sincere and profound discernment of our relationship with God, our neighbor and ourselves. All our Lenten practices from fasting, prayers, penances, via crucis, sacrifices, and other devotions have but one purpose: to make clear our thirst for the one who can only satisfy our need. We have to make our own the words of the Samaritan woman: “Lord, give me that water.” And although we may still understand Jesus' words literally, he tells us: "It is I, the one who speaks with you." No rite, no devotion, no prayer, no religious practice, sacrifice or offering will give us what we can only receive when we recognize our thirst and need for God.

4th Sunday of Lent      

“Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will give you light.”  Who is St. Paul addressing in this letter?  He is addressing converts, those that have been touched by the gospel of Christ.  They have already heard of Christ and God’s kingdom, and now Paul is reminding them that it is time to respond to God: to become children of the light.  The command “to awake” is given to someone that has been touched by God and realizes they have been asleep, dead or lost. The command to “awake”, therefore, is the before and after Christ experience that demands an answer.  There is no neutral or passive response to Christ; once we recognize that Christ has come to us we must make a decision to move from darkness into light, from death to living and from being asleep to being awake.   There is no worse blindness than that of the person who refuses to see; who refuses to wake up.

How do we know that we have been touched by God?  There is no one pattern or mold that we can apply to all people.  Each of us has a unique personal history into which the Spirit of God comes.  It is there in the uniqueness of our personal histories that we must find the God that comes looking for us, not according to the lives of others, not even the lives of saints, but according to your own personal and unique history.  Others can accompany and journey with us, but ultimately only you can discern and give a response to the God who is after you.  And what does that experience look like? That experience can be as varied as the diversity of our unique and personal stories. One thing is certain: that experience will question your life, values, priorities and what ultimately is important.

“You were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord.  Live as children of light, for light produces every kind of goodness and righteousness and truth.”  The before Christ experience is the experience of death, blindness and darkness. This is the blindness manifested in the Pharisees in the gospel. The kind of blindness that refuses to question himself/herself when confronted with love, truth, mercy and the justice of God.  The after Christ experience is the experience of wakefulness, being able to see and live in the light.  And how are we to know that we are children of the light?  According to St. Paul the proof comes in the fruitfulness of our lives, our attitudes and behaviors.  Not that we have to constantly be looking for results or successes, but rather, to be concerned only with love, mercy, compassion and the justice of God.  The proof will reveal itself in the manner that we adopt for ourselves the vision of God’s kingdom in all aspects of our lives.  In the gospel the blind man is able to see and desires to follow Christ.  The Pharisees are blind, not physically, but morally and spiritually: the worst kind of blindness. “Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will give you light.”

5th Sunday of Lent      

In the last two Sundays we have been reading from the cycle for catechumens: those that are going to be baptized at the Easter celebration.  The gospel readings on the Samaritan woman at the well and the blind man that is healed by Jesus are all about the before and after Christ experiences: baptism.  The Samaritan woman was lost and she was found; the man was blind and now he sees; and in today’s gospel Lazarus was dead and now he lives.  Beyond the miracles of the blind man and Lazarus, and the saving experience of the Samaritan woman, what these stories tell us is that the encounter with Jesus is supposed to move us into a relationship of faith and discipleship with Jesus. Therefore, the catechumens are accompanied and helped to see the death, blindness and darkness of their before Christ experience so that, by the grace and Spirit of God, they might move into the life and light of the after Christ experience.  The emphasis is not on sinfulness for sinfulness’s sake, but rather on grace, new life and dignity that catechumens receive in and through Christ. But the gift that God offers in Christ cannot be appreciated without first recognizing from where and what God is saving us from.

What about the rest of us that are not catechumens, what are we to take from these readings this Lenten season? It is no different for us. The Lenten season is an invitation to renew our relationship with God.  Perhaps the relationship with God has grown cold or the before and after Christ experience has never taken place. Wherever we find ourselves in our relationship with God our fundamental call is the same as that of the catechumens: to identify those areas in our lives where God is not yet present or where we do not allow him in. This is what Paul is talking about in the second reading when he says: “Whoever does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him.”

Today’s first reading and gospel remind us that to be separated from God and Christ is death itself, spiritual death.  Many of us live our lives not even aware of this living death.  We have fallen into a state of spiritual mediocrity and indifference. We tell ourselves that we are not as bad as “those” others who are really bad sinners. Or we justify ourselves by thinking, “well, I do not kill, steal, or hate anyone; I go to mass and pray the rosary.” We reduce being a Christian to avoiding sin and fulfilling religious obligations.  Christianity is not merely the avoidance of sin but the practice of love, mercy, compassion, and the justice of God.  Avoiding sin is merely the beginning, the first step. We avoid sin because that is the nature of love, mercy, and compassion.  We will ultimately be judged by love.  Rather than just giving up things during Lent, how about taking up the yoke of love, mercy, and compassion! It is not too late. If not now, when?

Palm Sunday

On this Palm Sunday, the beginning of Holy Week, we have the themes of triumph and tragedy: triumph because of the victorious entrance of Jesus into Jerusalem; tragedy because with this triumphant entrance Jesus’ passion begins.  We have been celebrating Holy Week for over two thousand years and perhaps after so many years we have lost touch with the ridiculousness, radicalness and sublime meaning of these events for us today.  How much more ridiculous can it be that our God hangs from a cross, humiliated and killed like the worst of criminals?  This is our God in whom we place not only our trust and hope, but in whom we hang our lives!  Do you see how ridiculous this is? The Greeks of the early church saw clearly the ridiculousness of the crucified God, while the Jews declared the proclamation of the crucified Messiah a scandal. Yet, it is in and through this ridiculous act to the world that God brings about a new creation. All genuine expressions of love are a risk, ridiculous, and a scandal, yet, even when attracted by love, only a few take the risk to follow love’s inspiration.

Then, we have the radical initiative of God becoming one with us.  What courage and boldness in choosing to live the vulnerability and weakness of our human condition to the point of death!  As Paul says, “he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave…becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”  What was God thinking?  What motivated Jesus was the love that poured out of his relationship with the Father; what moved him was his solidarity with the human condition.  And perhaps the greatest attribute that we can say about Jesus is that he saw himself in our human condition, in our vulnerability and weakness.  Jesus made us his neighbor and in doing so he offered himself so that we might have life, and life to the fullest.

And how more sublime can it be that in emptying himself and not seeking equality with God he finds the hidden treasure, the pearl of great value, the glory of the God who sent him.  “Because of this, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name.”  Weakness and vulnerability are transformed into power and glory.  Emptying oneself leads to abundance, and death to new life.  What kind of sublime reality is this? Mystics call this emptying process detachment. Detachment is not the same as indifference. Detachment is rooted in agape love: a love that seeks only the good of the other, for the other’s sake.  In agape love one loves because one is capable and willing to love whether the other appreciates it or not, whether the other reciprocates or not. This is what Jesus models for us. In emptying himself he finds himself immersed in God, which allows him to give everything of himself; in dying he is raised to new life, the new life offered to us.

2nd Sunday of Easter: Mercy Sunday

 
This second Sunday of Easter is dedicated to the Divine Mercy.   As church, why would we need to emphasize God’s mercy and compassion? Is it not that obvious that these are two of the main attributes of God?  As Church, is this not the main witness that we give as a community of faith: a community of mercy and compassion?  When by the grace of God, I am made aware of my sinfulness and need of reconciliation and healing, do I feel compelled to seek the church or to stay away from it?  Am I drawn to the community of faith or feel judged and rejected by it?  The answers to these questions are not as clear cut as we would like them to be.  We can point to many examples affirming the mercy and compassion with which the church receives the wounded and sinful, as well as many examples of condemnation and rejection.  As an institution I fear that the answer to these questions is not too encouraging.

One significant detail about Jesus in the gospels is that he was surrounded and followed by sinners.  They did not feel condemned nor rejected by him.  Jesus did not accuse nor shamed them with their sinfulness.  Neither did he excuse their sinfulness.  Yet, it was Jesus’ mercy and compassion that won them over. He received sinners into his company; he ate with them and even allowed some of them to become his disciples and apostles.  With mercy and compassion is how Jesus related to others, especially the most wounded and broken among them.  In this, Jesus mirrors the mercy and compassion of God.  He even commands his followers to imitate God: “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.” (Luke 6:36).  What is the major attribute of God that holds you in relationship with Him?  Is there an attribute of God that keeps you away from God?

We know from the gospels that it was the attitude of self-righteousness, judgment and condemnation that Jesus most denounced about the religious leaders of his time.  It was the self-righteousness, judging and condemnation of those who spoke in the name of God that drove and continue to drive away from God the most wounded and in need of mercy and compassion.   There is a great temptation to want to turn Christianity into an exclusive club where only the few “elected” and self-righteous are welcomed.  In Jesus we have received the command to be an inclusive community that welcomes the sinner, the broken and the wounded.  In Jesus, God is reconciling the world to himself.  This is the main ministry of the Church: to reconcile God’s sons and daughters with God, with each other and with themselves.  “Receive the Holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained.” This command to forgive is not limited to the sacrament of reconciliation, something that has great implications for the baptized.  Let the house of Israel say, “His mercy endures forever.” Let those who fear the LORD say, “His mercy endures forever.”

3rd Sunday of Easter

In this Sunday’s gospel we have the beautiful Emmaus resurrection narrative.  Common to all the narratives of the resurrection is that the Risen Lord is both recognized and not recognized by his disciples; he is the same and yet not the same.  What prevented them from recognizing the Risen Lord? The Emmaus story has many details that explain why the disciples did not recognize him, details in which we can easily see ourselves.  All of the resurrection stories in Luke take place in and around Jerusalem, but they are walking away from it.  The disciples are sad, hopeless and lost. Jesus meets them on the way, on the road. The way or road is a metaphor for life. Is it not there also where Jesus comes to meet us, on the road of our lives?  The sadness, hopelessness, and confusion of the recent events prevent the disciples from recognizing the Risen Lord. How true is this for us as well when we cannot see past our problems, concerns, and hopelessness.

The Risen Lord engages them in conversation and the more the disciples talk the more they reveal their blindness.  “But we were hoping that he would be the one to redeem Israel.”  The redemption that they were hoping for in Jesus was political.  They expected Jesus, the prophet, not the Messiah, to deliver Israel from the power of the Roman Empire.  Their plans and expectations died and were buried with Jesus.  Is not this also true with us? Our expectations of God, others, and of life itself prevent us from seeing what God, others and life offers us in the here and now.  We reduce God and others to our expectations and if they do not measure up to those expectations, then will never see and appreciate what they do offer.  The liberation that God offers us in and through Christ is much more radical than a political liberation.

A number of things take place in the story of Emmaus.  There is a journey, which implies movement.  There is an encounter with a stranger, the unfamiliar.  There is conversation and discussion about Scripture. There is hospitality, a sacred tradition greatly lost in our culture.  There is a meal and ritual, and most likely singing as well.  In and through all of these actions the Risen Lord helps his disciples to see beyond their sadness and hopelessness; he breaks open the Scriptures and tears down their expectations.  In the midst of hospitality, ritual (breaking of the bread), and singing their eyes, hearts, and minds are opened.  They finally recognized the Risen Lord.  At that moment their sadness and hopelessness are turned to joy.  They cannot remain in Emmaus; they have to return to Jerusalem. Now the Risen Christ, who is beyond space and time, is present to us today as well.  We are not so different from the disciples of Emmaus; we are self-consumed as they were.  Yet, the Risen Lord still comes to us. Do you recognize Him?

4th Sunday of Easter

This 4th Sunday of Easter is traditionally known as Good Shepherd Sunday, as well as Vocations Sunday, when we pray for the diversity of vocations in the Church.  In the OT, the image of shepherd is applied to rulers and religious leaders, but most explicitly to God.  In the NT Christ is the chief shepherd.  Pastoral images are foreign to most of us that live in cities and have no contact with rural life.  When was the last time you saw a sheep or a shepherd?  So, how are we to find meaning in this especially important biblical theme?  There are many biblical references to shepherds, but the ones that are of interest to us are those that speak about the attributes of the “good shepherd”, particularly in the NT.  

The parable of the lost sheep in Luke 15:4-7 is a good place to start.  This parable is about God’s mercy and compassion, especially for the sinner.  The parable begins by asking us to put ourselves in the place of the shepherd: “Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them.” If we can be so caring with a lost animal (think of what you would do if you lost your cat or dog), how much more merciful, loving and forgiving is God? But for me the question that is important is this: “Is this the God of mercy and compassion I experience?” For me, the answer is “yes”. Out of all the attributes of God his love, mercy, and compassion are the attributes that most speak to me and the ones that keep me engaged in relationship.  These are the attributes that keep calling me back to Him, entice me to surrender, and create the desire to respond to Him. While other attributes of God like being demanding, jealous and just God can question my faithfulness, it is God’s love, mercy and compassion that wins me over.

In John 10 (this Sunday) Jesus describes himself as the “Good Shepherd” who: lays down his life for the sheep; protects the sheep from the wolves; knows his sheep and the sheep know him; the sheep listen to his voice and follow him.  Do any of these attributes of the “good shepherd” speak to you? Do you experience any of these attributes in your relationship with God/Jesus?  Does the self-giving act of Jesus for our (your) salvation say anything to you? Do you experience God’s protection in guarding you from harm; and amid trials and tribulation do you experience his consoling and protective presence?  In the bible to speak of knowing and being known by God is to speak of having a relationship of intimacy and trust. Is this part of your experience? How do you recognize God’s voice in your life? How is his voice manifested: in prayer, through the bible, through experiences, through worship, through relationships, through success and triumphs, in trials and tribulations, in light as well as in darkness?  The ­­image of the good shepherd becomes meaningful to us in the manner that the attributes of the good shepherd are manifested and experienced in our lives.

5th Sunday of Easter

Chapter 14 in the Gospel of John, within the last discourse to his disciples, is one of the most beautiful, profound, and baffling. Jesus speaks very clearly of his union and identification with the Father: To believe in Jesus is to believe in the Father; to see Jesus is to see the Father. However, there is a heaviness to the scene and a sadness that invades the hearts of his disciples. Jesus has spoken to them about his coming exodus (departure = passion, death, and resurrection), and obviously his disciples are afflicted by his words. Jesus tries to comfort them by telling them: " Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me." 16 centuries later, in a monastery in Spain, a Carmelite nun of Jewish lineage, did one better on these consoling words of Jesus when she wrote in her breviary the following prayer/poem:

Let nothing frustrate you,
Nothing scare you.
All things pass:
God does not go away.
Patience endures all things.
The one who has God lacks nothing;
God alone is enough.
 Theresa of Jesus

These words of Saint Teresa of Jesus (Avila) have comforted many in difficult moments and have returned them to peace, faith, and hope. Jesus tells them that he is leaving, but not to abandon them, but to prepare a place for them: "When I have gone and prepared a place for you, I will return and take you with me, so that where I am, you may also be." I can't help but smile when I read these words of Jesus to his disciples. As religious as we are or desirous of being where our Lord is, most of us think the same thing. “Thank you, Lord, for thinking of me; thank you for preparing a place for me. But don't be in a hurry to come back for me; Take your time, Lord." When asked by Tomas: "Lord, we don't know where you are going, how can we know the way?" Jesus leaves us those words that impregnate our imagination: "I am the way, the truth and the life."

Before Christians were called "Christians," they were known as people on the way. Being on the road (way) connotes movement; light on luggage; open to the new and the unexpected. Being on the road is risky, you never know what life will throw at you or the surprises that will manifest along the way. For some the road will be short, for others it will be long. There will come a time when the body will not want to cooperate and will tell you that it has given it its all, but it is not true, it is only the crossing of new limits. The mind will also betray you by telling you that you are wasting your time on the road, that it is a foolish ideal, that you could be doing better things. But being on the road, being with Him, will teach you to trust Him. And as you walk you will come to know the truth and the life that He will reveal to you. In this walk, the prayer of Saint Teresa of Jesus is a good song to carry in our light luggage.

6th Sunday of Easter

 
We are getting close to the solemnity of Pentecost. On this sixth Sunday of Easter, we are preparing to celebrate the coming of the Holy Spirit. The gospel for this Sunday is taken from the last discourse of Jesus to his disciples during the last supper. In this last discourse Jesus prepares his disciples for his coming exodus (departure = passion, death, and resurrection). The disciples are sad and afflicted because they do not know how to interpret these words of Jesus. Jesus promises them that he will not leave them orphans. Jesus assures them that he will send them "another Paraclete to be with you always, the Spirit of truth." The word "Paraclete" is a transliteration of the Greek. It is a compound word that literally means: to be called to the side of another to assist. This is the word applied to the Holy Spirit, which has a variety of connotations. Paraclete connotes to advocate, plead, comfort, intercede, and instruct. All of these connotations of the word Paraclete describe the various ministries (functions) of the Holy Spirit.

 What the word Paraclete describes of the Holy Spirit is practically what Jesus has been doing with his disciples until now. Jesus has been a Paraclete for the disciples. For this reason, in today's Gospel, Jesus tells them that he will beg the Father to send them “another Paraclete”. This “another” is someone similar to both Jesus (Son) and the Father. Just as Jesus was sent by the Father and is an extension (incarnation) of the same Father, likewise, the Holy Spirit is an extension of the Father and the Son, of the same essence of the two. Jesus will leave physically, but the Spirit of Truth that the Father will send will continue the project of the Kingdom of God inaugurated in Jesus Christ, the mission of the church. But there is a condition in order to remain in Jesus and for him to remain in us through the Holy Spirit.

This condition is love. "If you love me, you will keep my commandments." Loving Jesus is not our initiative. It is our response to God's initiative in Jesus, finding ourselves loved, reconciled, and healed by the pure grace of God, knowing that we have not merited it, nor deserved it. By "my commandments" (which is similar to "his word" or "teachings") is meant the fullness of God's revelation in Jesus. The motivation to fulfill his commandments and submit to the Kingdom, as Jesus submitted to the will of the Father, comes from love. Love is the motivation for obedience and submission to his commandments, which is why following Jesus is never an obligation. "He who does not love has not known God...In this is love: not that we loved God, but that he first loved us and sent his Son..." 1 John 4:8, 10. If love of Jesus does not manifest in obedience and submission to his commandments, then we cannot expect to live in him and he in us in the Spirit. Is there value in having or knowing the commandments of Jesus if there is no obedience to them?

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A blessed and joyous New Year!

Alright, alright, alllriiighhhtt, my brothers and sisters: all the presents have been opened, the trash cans are full of gift wrapping paper and tamale wrappings; the excitement and surprise  of the gifts are but a memory now; you have been eating and drinking more than you should have for the last month and now you can barely move and the guilt is killing you; and soon enough you will receive the bill for all the overspending you could not afford for Christmas. I hope and pray somebody gave you some Tylenol for Christmas to take care of the headache that is about to visit you (not the 3 wise men) when the bills come.

But don’t despair, there is a solution; there is a way to regain your dignity and identity. Today we celebrate the solemnity of Mary, Mother of the Church. In today's gospel there are some key words to understand, appreciate and learn from Mary. These words are the following: “Mary, for her part, kept all these things and pondered them in her heart.” The key word is "heart". In the Bible, the heart represents the human being in its totality. The heart is the center of spiritual, intellectual, and emotional life; it is where the will and purpose reside. When the evangelist Luke tells us that Mary "kept and meditated on them in her heart" he means that Mary made herself available to God's will so that her "heart" might be transformed, that is, so that the totality of her life was at the service of the one who called her.

It is here that the glory of Mary resides. Although her virginity and motherhood are important, it is her “yes”, her discipleship, her willingness to let herself be transformed by God's grace that makes her the Mother of the church. Mary is a model of discipleship. She is the woman, the mother, and the disciple who, little by little, with the revelations she received, was allowing her experiences to transform her heart so that she could completely identify with the will of the one who called her. While the Gospels narrate the ups and downs of the disciples and apostles, Mary in silence (as is the case with many women and mothers) forges her walk in faith, trust, fidelity and obedience to the will of God. Come, let us go to Mary so that she may teach us to walk in faith, trust, fidelity, and obedience, even in the midst of life's uncertainties.

Let this be your New Year’s resolution:

Become what you already are in Christ!!

May Mary, Mother of God, Mother of the Church and our Mother intercede for us and bring us closer to her beloved Son and our Lord Jesus, Our Redeemer.

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

I always worry when I hear religious people speak with absolute certainty in the name of God. The older I get the more questions I have about God and how to talk about God. (Growth in knowledge and wisdom makes it quite evident that the depth of what we don’t know is much deeper than what we know.)  For me God is the God of surprises; the God with a fascinating sense of humor. When God decided to take flesh in Jesus, he took the world by surprise.  His own people did not recognize him.  The religious experts rejected him while the least likely people seemed to recognize who he was: the known sinners, prostitutes, those that counted for nothing in society.  He was born in a stable, and the first people that came to visit him were a revelation in themselves.  In the gospel of Luke, shepherds come to visit him.  Shepherds were not highly regarded people.  Today, we romanticized them, but in their time, they were seen as untrustworthy and looked down upon because they lived with animals.  Yet, it is to them that the revelation was made.

In the gospel of Matthew, the revelation was entrusted to foreigners.  It is believed that the magi were astrologers from Persia, what is now Iran.  In the Old Testament, God used Persia as part of God’s plan of salvation.  Cyrus the Great, king of Persia, ends the Babylonian exile and allows the Jewish people to return to Israel to rebuild Jerusalem and the temple. Cyrus is mentioned about 23 times in the Old Testament and many other times indirectly (see the book of Ezra).  Again, messengers from Persia are part of God’s plan to reveal the newborn king to the world.  Who would have thought of this?  The God of surprises strikes again!  God used untrustworthy, dirty, and smelly shepherds as well as foreigners to reveal to Israel and to the world his salvific plan.  We should know better by now not to pretend to know what God is up to or to pretend to know who ought to have access to God and who does not!

It is refreshing to often hear Pope Francis speak not with pretense of absolute certainty but rather through the lens of mercy and compassion. He seems to leave the door of mystery open enough to be surprised and humored by God.  This is truly refreshing!  When we pretend to speak with absolute certainty in the name of God, we seem to lose sight of the most revealing attributes of God: mercy and compassion.  When we speak or act from absolute certainty, we take away from God what belongs only to God: judgment. The only absolute is love, and this is the attitude by which Jesus lived. May we never lose the capacity to be surprised by God.  May the door of mystery always remain open so that we may find ourselves surprised and visited by God in the least possible of places, by the least imaginable of people, and in the least conceivable moments.  Happy feast of the Epiphany!

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

This Sunday's responsorial psalm contains a phrase that I have long been interested in exploring. "I have waited, waited for the LORD." What does it mean to wait on the Lord? "Wait on the Lord" is an expression we find a lot in the Old Testament, particularly in the psalms, proverbs, prophets, and wisdom books. It is also a phrase that those who are going through difficult times often hear from others, pretending to give comfort. The meaning of this phrase is found, not so much in those who communicate it with good intentions, but by those who live the experience of "waiting on the Lord". In the Old Testament there are several words that express the meaning of "waiting," but one of the most common is "qavah." Literally "qavah" means to bind with a rope. But "qavah" also has other connotations such as: waiting, hope, trust. Literally "waiting on the Lord" means tying ourselves to him with a rope. This phrase provokes an interesting image of tying ourselves to God, waiting on Him, hoping in Him, and trusting only in Him.


The image that this phrase provokes is dynamic and not passive, as the word "wait" suggests. The sense of waiting of "qavah" is not to sit idly, passively waiting for everything to fall from the sky. It is living, working, and acting according to the orientation of life to which God calls us. This sense of "waiting" is an act of faith that God will know how to write straight with my crooked lines, even though I am not clear about the when and how of God's will. The second sense of "qavah" is hope. But the meaning of this hope is not found in the expectation that everything will work out. From experience we know, no matter how much faith we have, that things don't always turn out well. This sense of hope focuses on the one who promises to walk with us and not so much on the result, in the style of Abraham, Jesus, Paul, and Mary. To live with this sense of hope is to trust that no matter what, I will be okay because God is with me.


The third sense of "qavah" is trust; trust in that? Like in the sense of hope, trust is in the person, in God, who is my creator, my sustainer, and my savior, and not in the result of my faith in Him. Ultimately, this sense of trust calls us to live by God's will, according to the Lord's own time and not ours. It is difficult for us to wait on the Lord because we want things now, an immediate answer to our prayer. We not only demand that God act according to our timing (when), but also "how" we want things, which is contrary to the meaning of faith and hope. Therefore, only the person who lives the experience of "waiting on the Lord" can understand its deep meaning. The meaning is born of experience, and not in the communication of this phrase, however sincere the will of the one who communicates it. "Wait on the Lord," tie yourself to Him, waiting, hoping, and trusting only in Him.

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

In this Sunday's Gospel we have the beginning of Jesus' public ministry according to Matthew. Jesus begins his ministry after hearing of the arrest of John the Baptist, and he continues with the theme of John's preaching, "Repent, for the Kingdom of heaven is near." The gospel mentions that Jesus leaves Nazareth to settle in Capernaum (two places in the region of Galilee). Jesus lived most of his life in the region of Galilee. Galilee was at the crossroads of commerce, cultures, and religions. It is in a culturally and religiously diverse environment that Jesus lived most of his life and where his mission began. The focus of his mission was mainly to the Jewish community, although we know from the Gospels that he also received pagans who sought him. The religious center of Judaism was Jerusalem and Galilee was geographically and religiously far from this center. Is this significant for us today? Do we seek God's presence only in religious centers or are we also open to finding Him on the margins of religion and society?
 
The central theme of Jesus' preaching was the "Kingdom of God" (or "heaven" in Matthew). In Jesus, the messianic age, of which the prophets spoke much of, was beginning. The Kingdom of God was inaugurated in the very person of Jesus. The healings, miracles, and expulsion of demons confirmed and bore witness to his identity, power, and authority. But not everyone recognized his identity and authority. The vast majority of those who heard him and who witnessed his works did not understand his message, including his disciples. With the testimony of his life, preaching, and miracles Jesus revealed the content and values of the Kingdom. Jesus modeled the new life of the Kingdom and did not demand anything from his disciples that he himself was not willing to submit to.
 
The call to conversion is also something that Jesus modeled for us with his own life. Perhaps we may ask ourselves: did Jesus need conversion, if we profess that there was no sin in him? In Greek, the language of the gospels, the word we translate as "convert" or "repent" is "metanoia." Metanoia describes a dynamic movement as a response to God's initiative to save us. Metanoia is a reorientation of my life in response to the call to repentance and submission to God's will. Although in Jesus there was no sin, there was a need to orient his life to the will of the one who sent him. What Jesus modeled for his disciples (and for us) was a total identification with the Father's will. Jesus' mission was to fulfill the Father's will. The life of Jesus was completely at the service of the Kingdom of God. In this submission to the Father's will and service to the Kingdom of God is summed up the meaning of the call to metanoia, without which there is no discipleship, and no participation in the Kingdom that was inaugurated in Christ.

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

We have in this Sunday’s gospel a central teaching in Jesus’ proclamation of God’s Kingdom: the beatitudes. Yet, it is truly puzzling that most Christians consider the Ten Commandments the core of Christian living.  Most of us tend to pay lip service to the beatitudes and easily gravitate towards the commandments.  In my opinion, there are at least two reasons why we do this. The first one is because we find the commandments easier to follow and much less demanding.  A person can fulfill most the commandments perfectly without doing much.  If I lock myself in my house and I do not have much contact or relationships with others I can fulfill most of the commandments. Of course, this is not the spirit of the commandments, but for many Christians this is what they think Christianity is about: keeping laws, but not necessarily having loving relationships.  The second reason is that the beatitudes have been greatly misunderstood.

The beatitudes are given by Jesus in the context of the Sermon on the Mountain in Matthew. It is the experience of finding ourselves loved, forgiven, healed, and accepted by God that promotes what the beatitudes declare.  The beatitudes are not laws to be kept, but rather attitudes to be cultivated to live as citizens of God’s Kingdom.  When the beatitudes are reduced to laws, they tend to create frustration and guilt for not measuring up to them. Another common misconception of the beatitudes is that they promote an image of weakness. Is that what they see in Jesus? Weakness?  In the first beatitude Jesus is not saying that the poor are blessed simply because they are poor, as if poverty is something that God praises and desires for us.  Rather, what Jesus is saying is that despite our poverty we are blessed because the Kingdom has come upon us.  Despite our poverty, materially or spiritually, we find ourselves loved, accepted, and forgiven because God’s Kingdom has touched our lives. The opposite of poverty of spirit is the pride and arrogance of self-sufficiency and self-assertiveness that the world so much admires and promotes. A person who builds on pride and arrogance refuses to submit to God and has displaced God from the center of his/her life.

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

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This Sunday’s gospel continues Jesus’ Sermon on the Mountain.  It follows the beatitudes from last week.  More than commandments or laws the beatitudes are the attitudes of those who find themselves under the reign of God’s kingdom.  Life under God’s reign cannot be a private experience; the citizens of God’s kingdom must live in the world.  Christians are called to be in the world, but not of the world.  The lives of those touched by God’s kingdom must witness this new reality that has irrupted into human history.  Christians must be the salt of the earth and the light that shines and radiates. Yet, being salt and light is what happens to those that are taken possession by God’s kingdom, not something one does out of one’s own initiative.

Salt has several qualities: it purifies, it flavors and preserves.  Although all these qualities are brought into the religious sphere symbolically, the one characteristic that is emphasized here is that of preserving.  As a preservative the potency of salt is in being an antiseptic; it prevents and retards decay while also imparting flavor.  Hence, by being in the world, but not of the world, the Christian combats moral and spiritual decay while witnessing to the joy and newness of life under God’s kingdom.  Jesus is using salt as a metaphor for the citizens of the kingdom because salt was readily available in Galilee.  He also saw how easily salt became stale and useless, and how this was represented in the staleness of the religious leaders of his time.  The staleness of salt is exemplified in the formal and legalistic religion of the Pharisees and scribes who had lost touch with the spirit of the law they held on to. This too is a warning to us to remain true to the nature and spirit of our citizenship of God’s kingdom.

The second metaphor that Jesus applies to citizens of God’s kingdom is light: “you are the light of the world”. Light in the scriptures has many connotations: knowledge of God, joy, gladness, true happiness.  Light symbolizes the best there is in learning, love, and laughter, in contrast, darkness connotes depravity and despair. As citizens of God’s kingdom Christians are supposed to be transmitters of the kingdom.  The light they possess is the light they have received from God.  What Jesus received from the Father he shared with his disciples.  What Jesus shared with his disciples were not just words, what he shared was the Father incarnated in himself.  Jesus modeled his relationship with Father in the manner that he related, treated, and received others.  In summary, the Christian community must be visible and shining.  The first reading from Isaiah also describes the attributes of the citizens of the New Jerusalem: feed the hungry, shelter the oppressed and homeless, cloth the naked; remove from your midst oppression, false accusation, and malicious speech.  These are concrete ways in which Christians are called to be the salt and light of the world.

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

6th Sunday of Ordinary Time
 

To appreciate this Sunday’s gospel, we need to understand where it comes from.  The gospel of Matthew is the most Jewish of the four gospels.  It strives hard to connect the law and the prophets with Jesus.  Even the way the gospel is structured (5 clearly divided discourses of Jesus) point to the Pentateuch, the first 5 books of the Old Testament. Jesus is revealed as the fulfillment of the law and the prophets.  The gospel was written for a Jewish/Christian audience who could appreciate the connection of the Old Testament to Jesus.  Jesus, therefore, did not come to abolish the law or the prophets, but to fulfill them.  Jesus is not a breakaway from Judaism, but a natural development of the history of salvation which culminates in him.  We can clearly sense that the gospel of Matthew is answering a very specific question for the Jewish/Christian community: how is Jesus the fulfillment of the law and the prophets?

While Jesus does not abolish the law and the prophets, he does, however, take them beyond the literal interpretation to a foundation in love.  Jesus takes the law and the prophets from an understanding as a contract to that of a loving relationship with God.  In doing this Jesus does away with the legalism into which Judaism had fallen, to reveal to us that at the core of salvation history are God’s love, mercy, compassion, and the justice of God. He models a life of intimacy, trust, and submission to God, based not on obligation or law, but on love.  In broad strokes the difference between the God of the Pharisees and scribes, and the God of Jesus is the difference between law and love.  While law is practical and useful as a guide, love is the source of life which gives meaning to our relationships, commitments, and sacrifices.

We may think that with Jesus Christianity has done away with the Pharisaic tendencies, but we would be wrong.  The Pharisees represented legalistic and static notions which reduced the relationship with God to external practices.  These Pharisaic notions and attitudes are still quite alive in our church today.   Jesus in today’s gospel warns us, “unless your righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.”  In the four examples that today’s gospel gives us Jesus takes us from the mere rule of law to the heart of God's kingdom: loving relationship.  Murder, adultery, divorce, and false oaths begin in the heart, in the conscience, of the individual; and the heart is the seat of the will and conscience.  Christian faith as is modeled by Jesus is not merely the management or avoiding of sin, but rather the management of love.  As St. Augustin rightly summarized, “love and do what you want”; meaning all that we do (or not do), think, say, and cultivate in ourselves must flow from love.

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

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Was Jesus serious about not resisting evil, offering the other cheek, giving to the one who asks, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you? And to top it off, today’s gospel closes with: “be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” Really, Jesus? The answer that comes back is: “Yes, really!” From a rational, financial, political, and legal perspective what Jesus says makes little sense or simply is just unbearable. Yet, we keep missing the point that the logic of Jesus is the Kingdom and not philosophy, the economy, politics, nor the legal system. What Jesus models is not an intellectual and moral act, but rather an existential response to evil and injustice under the influence of God’s Reign. Jesus is not telling us what to do in response to evil, oppression and injustice. Rather, he teaches us how to confront it: through the Kingdom.

Today’s gospel comes from the Sermon on the Mount in the gospel of Matthew and it’s the heart of the Kingdom that Jesus proclaims and reveals.  He not only taught this, but he lived it and died practicing what he taught. Sadly, these are the teachings that we least honor, follow, and put into practice.  Most of us are turned off by these words of Jesus in Matthew and we pretend that Jesus was not serious, and we simply ignore them. We prefer to look to the Old Testament and the 10 Commandments as something more reasonable and doable.  We do not take him at his word. He is the Son of God; he is God incarnate; we are mere mortals; how can we possibly measure up to his way of life? Yet, even in the Old Testament, in today’s first reading, we have God saying the same thing: “Be holy, for I, the Lord, your God, am holy.”

We should not be surprised at the negative reaction most of us have to these words of Jesus. The non-violent approach of Jesus to evil, violence and injustice seems unreasonable. However, once we remove our egos from the picture the option to de-escalate violence through non-violence is more than reasonable, it's practical. A non-violent response also fulfills another fundamental goal: the possible conversion of the other and the possibility of kinship. The other problem that we have created for ourselves is that we have turned these teachings of Jesus into commandments.  These teachings are attitudes and ways of being and relating rather than commandments.  These attitudes and ways of being and relating arise from the experience of the Kingdom. Without the fundamental experience and encounter with God and the Kingdom these teachings become oppressive and unbearable.  It is the experience of the Kingdom that provides new possibilities, imagination, and new initiatives to evil, oppression and injustices.  Love, mercy, compassion, and the justice of God are the core foundation of the Kingdom and living in them and through them is not merely an intellectual exercise, but an existential response to the experience of finding ourselves loved, forgiven, healed, and made whole again by the grace of God.

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On this Feast Day of the Exaltation of the Cross, I offer you part of a theological reflection on St. Paul’s theology of the Cross that Pope Benedict XVI gave in a public audience on October 29, 2008.

For St Paul the Cross has a fundamental primacy in the history of humanity; it represents the focal point of his theology because to say "Cross" is to say salvation as grace given to every creature. The topic of the Cross of Christ becomes an essential and primary element of the Apostle's preaching: the clearest example concerns the community of Corinth. Facing a Church in which disorder and scandal were disturbingly present, where communion was threatened by internal factions and ruptures which damaged the unity of the Body of Christ, Paul did not present himself with sublime words or wisdom but with the proclamation of Christ, of Christ crucified. His strength is not in the use of persuasive language but, paradoxically, in the weakness and trepidation of those who entrust themselves solely to the "power of God" (cf. 1 Cor 2: 1-5). The Cross, for all it represents, hence also for the theological message it contains, is scandal and folly. The Apostle says so with an impressive force that it is good to hear directly from his words: "for the word of the Cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. " (1 Cor 1: 18-20).

But why did St Paul make precisely this, the word of the Cross, the fundamental core of his teaching? The answer is not difficult: the Cross reveals "the power of God" (cf. 1 Cor 1: 24), which is different from human power; indeed, it reveals his love: "For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men" (ibid., v. 25). Centuries after Paul we see that in history it was the Cross that triumphed and not the wisdom that opposed it. The Crucified One is wisdom, for he truly shows who God is, that is, a force of love which went even as far as the Cross to save men and women. God uses ways and means that seem to us at first sight to be merely weakness. The Crucified One reveals on the one hand man's frailty and on the other, the true power of God, that is the free gift of love: this totally gratuitous love is true wisdom.

St Paul gave a wonderful synthesis of the theology of the Cross in the Second Letter to the Corinthians (5: 14-21) where everything is enclosed between two fundamental affirmations: on the one hand Christ, whom God made to be sin for our sake (v. 21), he died for all (v. 14); and on the other, God reconciled us to himself without imputing our sins to us (vv. 18-20). It is from this "ministry of reconciliation" that every form of slavery is already redeemed (cf. 1 Cor 6: 20; 7: 23). Here it appears how important this is for our lives. We too must enter into this "ministry of reconciliation" that always implies relinquishing one's superiority and opting for the folly of love. St Paul sacrificed his own life, devoting himself without reserve to the ministry of reconciliation, of the Cross, which is salvation for us all. And we too must be able to do this: may we be able to find our strength precisely in the humility of love and our wisdom in the weakness of renunciation, entering thereby into God's power. We must all model our lives on this true wisdom: we must not live for ourselves but must live in faith in that God of whom we can all say: "he loved me and gave himself for me".

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

We are beginning the Advent season this Sunday. The word “advent” literally means “coming”.  During Advent we prepare to celebrate the coming, birth, incarnation of God in the child named Jesus.  However, this “advent” also points to two other “comings” of the Lord. In essence, in the Advent season we contemplate three different comings: the past coming (birth, incarnation); the present coming (the Christ who comes to us in every life experience and every person), and the future (second) coming, the Christ who will assume full dominion of God’s Kingdom. The liturgical color of Advent is purple, symbol of sorrow, penitence and preparation. During Advent we ask God to help us identify and name everything that prevents us from recognizing and welcoming him.

In the first coming we contemplate the reality of our world with the awareness that it is the “world so loved by God that He sent his only Son, not to condemn, but to save it” (Jn. 3;16). When God contemplates the world, he looks upon it with love and compassion, so much so that he takes the initiative to become one with us.  His love is so great that he does not pretend to be one with us (like a tourist), but rather risks it all to the point of even giving his life for the salvation of all.  The incarnation is the mystery that so captivated St. Francis of Assisi and moved him to create the nativity scene so familiar to us now because he was in awe of the love, initiative and daring of God in becoming one with us.  What kind of God is this; what kind of love is this that dared so greatly by becoming so vulnerable?  And yet, through his vulnerability God reveals the greatness and power of his love.  

In the second coming, we contemplate the universal and eternal Christ who through the resurrection breaks the bonds of space and time.  Christ is no longer the Jesus of flesh and blood limited by space and time, but the risen Lord, the universal Christ, who is present to us in the here and now, in every encounter of life, in every man and woman that comes into our lives, in every circumstance that life throws our way.  He is the one that knocks at our door and bids us to always be awake and alert to receive him.  And finally, we have the third coming of Christ at the end of times.  This is what we refer to as the second and final coming when Christ will assume all things under his power.    So, how are we to wait for the coming of the Lord? Sitting on our hands waiting for the Lord’s coming as an act of magic? No, we wait by going about the work of the Kingdom. Not with anxiety or fear, but with open minds and hearts ready to receive him in and through whatever manner and form the Lord chooses to come to us. Be awake and alert for he comes!

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

Throughout history religion has been criticized for promoting unrealistic visions of life and heaven; for enslaving believer’s minds rather than liberating them. Religious people react defensively against these criticisms.  These criticisms are generalizations that need to be taken for what they are: generalizations. However, we cannot completely discard them as unreasonable because sometimes the way we talk about God and religion may be viewed as pie in the sky.  In today’s first reading we are presented with a vision from the prophet Isaiah: “Justice shall be the band around his waist, and faithfulness a belt upon his hips. Then the wolf shall be a guest of the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; the calf and the young lion shall browse together, with a little child to guide them.  The cow and the bear shall be neighbors…There shall be no harm or ruin on all my holy mountain; for the earth shall be filled with knowledge of the Lord.”

What are we to make of this vision from Isaiah?  Some would say that this vision is of heaven, but biblical scholars tell us that this vision is for this world under God’s reign.  Then, we must ask: is this vision realistic?  Should we hang our hopes on this vision of unity and solidarity? When we look at Jesus in the gospels, he seems to live his life by this vision.  Truly, the fact that Jesus adopts this vision for himself is at the heart of why he continues to attract so many to himself and to the vision of God’s Kingdom.  Jesus’ response to hatred, violence, and divisions still manages to challenge our imagination of what is possible under God’s grace.  Jesus still manages to challenge us to not reduce ourselves to our lowest aspirations, but rather to rise to the potential for greatness that God sees in us.  There is a sense of freshness in the way Jesus moves, acts, loves, and relates to people in the gospels.  His sense of freedom awakens within us something that seems to be asleep.  We recognize it because we instinctively desire it and long for it.
 
Jesus models the vision of God’s Kingdom, and he lives his life in service to the Kingdom. He confronted all that opposed this vision of the Kingdom with the conviction that love, mercy, and justice would triumph.  “Not by appearance shall he judge, nor by the hearsay shall he decide,” but by the vision of God’s Kingdom.  For Jesus, the vision of God’s Kingdom is not an unrealistic vision, nor an illusion.  This vision does not enslave him, but rather frees him to submit himself without reserve to God’s will and the salvation of the world.  It is his “yes” to God’s Kingdom in freedom that awakens within us the desire to follow him and to adopt for ourselves this vision.  On this second Sunday of Advent, we are invited to renew our desire for God’s Kingdom, for that is what we pray for every time we pray the Our Father.   May the birth of the newborn King awaken within us the life of the Kingdom already in our midst.

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

Rituals and symbols are part of the treasure of our Catholic Faith.  Today, the third Sunday of Advent is a little different from the other three Sundays.  This third Sunday is called “Gaudete Sunday”.  The word “gaudete” is Latin for “rejoice”.  On this Sunday the church invites us to intensify our longing for the coming, birth and incarnation of God in Jesus.  Just like parents wait with great anticipation for the birth of their child, especially their first; we too are reminded of the gift that is given to us in Jesus.  The readings for today speak of joyous anticipation.  Visually, the pattern of the purple candles on the Advent wreath is broken with the lighting of the pink candle.  Perhaps, more than ever, we need this reminder to bring us back from the chaotic last three years of Covid 19, the commercialism and consumerism that Christmas has become. Furthermore, our present experience of division within our country calls us to unity.

The color purple symbolizes repentance and mourning for all that damages and impacts our relationships with God, others and ourselves. However, the great event that we are about to celebrate is a birth and this calls for celebration.  The long-awaited Messiah of which the ancient prophets spoke about is finally here and this calls for rejoicing.  The gospel of Matthew says: “Go tell John what you hear and see: the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them.  And blessed is the one who take no offense at me.”  Do you see yourself in these prefer recipients of the good news that Jesus lists? The message of Isaiah, Paul, and Jesus can only become Good News to us when we see ourselves in need to be saved, healed, liberated, and renewed. If there is no such awareness or need, then the birth and incarnation of God in Jesus can hardly be seen as a gift or cause for rejoicing.  

More than simply recognizing our sins, the Advent season reminds us of our need for a relationship with God and one another. It is through relationships that we are saved, healed, freed, renewed, and made whole again. Relationship is at the heart of who we are and what we are called to become. It is through relationships that we were brought into this world.  It is through relationships that we grow, mature and create our own identity.  It is through relationships that we begin to look beyond ourselves when we care for others. It is through relationships that we form and nurture kinship in our communities and societies. And it is through relationships that we finally reach our deepest longing: union with God. May the birth of our Lord renew in us the desire for relationship with God and kinship with one another.

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

On this fourth week of Advent, we have the story of Jesus’ birth told through the experience of Joseph in the gospel of Matthew.  What is common to both Luke and Matthew’s versions is that the birth takes place through the actions of the Holy Spirit. There is much that has been said and written of Mary, but poor Joseph has been left in her shadow. Then and now, most men in Joseph’s shoes would have abandoned Mary. But Joseph is not “most men”. Like the other Joseph in the Old Testament, this Joseph is led by the revelation of God through dreams. This Joseph is a righteous man, willing to accept the calling to become the adoptive father of Jesus.  After the birth of Jesus not much is mentioned about Joseph. The scene when Jesus is lost and found in Jerusalem when he was about 12 years old, according to the gospel of Luke, is the last that the gospels mention about Joseph.  Most likely, Joseph died when Jesus was a teenager?   

When Joseph found out that Mary was pregnant, he reacted like most men would have:  he wanted to break up the betrothal. Being betrothed meant that Mary and Joseph were legally married, although they were not living together yet.  The living together part would come after the public ceremony.  It is at the betrothal stage that Mary’s pregnancy was discovered.  This situation placed Mary in danger of death if Joseph would have made her pregnancy public.  The gospel tells us that Joseph was a righteous man and did not wish to expose Mary to public humiliation and a possible death sentence by stoning.  He was contemplating to divorce her in secret when God intervened on Mary’s behalf.  For Mary it was her life and that of the child in her womb that were at stake; for Joseph it was public humiliation that his betrothed had cheated on him before the marriage process was completed. In most male dominated societies, the dignity of men is placed above the concerns, safety and dignity of women, but Joseph, led by faith, stands above those male expectations.  

It is said that faithfulness and obedience is a lonely road to walk.  Mary and Joseph knew this well.  They trusted the revelation given to them by an angel.  Their “yes” to God placed them in great peril physically and socially.  While the call they received did not absolve them from danger and suffering, they were also not left to fend for themselves.  Consistently, we find in the gospels that God provides not only the courage to continue to say “yes”, but also the protection and consolation in the midst of their trials and tribulations.  Both Mary and Joseph, and Jesus himself, remind us that saying “yes” to God has consequences, but we need not fear those consequences for the one who calls also provides what is needed to respond.  Perhaps the question that we can ask ourselves is this: am I willing to live with the consequences of what it means to live as a citizen of God’s kingdom, trusting on the one who called me?

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

There are those who demand perfection as a condition for the existence of absolute goodness in the world.  This was not the condition that God demanded in the Incarnation.  He chose to come to us in weakness and vulnerability into the chaos of our world.   The Incarnation, Christmas, speaks of unconditional love, which is already present, at work in our troubled history, in our imperfect world.  God chose to pitch his tent, to become one with us, amid the messiness, injustice, and violence of the world we have created, not merely to save us from ourselves, but to reveal to you, to us, that despite ourselves He loves and believes in us. He trusts in the goodness of His creation.  Perhaps, it is better to say that God loves and believes in us not despite ourselves, but rather because of our sinfulness and imperfections.  God does not ignore our sinfulness, God sees it and knows it and, yet still loves us.  It is the experience of finding ourselves loved by God that ultimately awakens within us the desire to be better, to do better, to be the best version of ourselves. It’s the experience of finding ourselves loved that awakens within us the desire to respond to God, not out of obligation, but rather, out of gratitude.

There is a tendency in us to want to sanitize God, religion, and the reality of our human condition.   When we look upon the nativity scene it looks so clean, peaceful, and beautiful.  Have you ever been in a stable where animals live, eat, and reproduce?  A stable is smelly, dirty, noisy, and sometimes even violent.  And yet, this is the place and environment, an image of our world, into which Jesus, the Son of God, is born.  The all-mighty God becomes weak and vulnerable in becoming one with us and he identifies completely with our human condition. He submerges himself into the chaos, messiness, and violence of our reality to save us from ourselves. There is nothing romantic about the Incarnation, but it is an endearing expression of love.  It’s the experience of love that makes us aware that we can be better and to imagine new possibilities under the grace of God.

Soon after Jesus is born, Joseph and Mary must flee to Egypt to preserve the life of the child (gospel of Matthew).  Impressive risk that God took in becoming one with us!  The Incarnation not only says something about God, but also about how God looks upon us.  God is a risk taker; He is willing to give his very life for His creation.  He looks upon us with love, compassion, mercy, and justice.  More important than what we say about God: I love God, I believe in God, and I trust in God, is what God says to us: I love you, I believe in you, and I trust you.  And just as He was willing to risk it all for us, are we willing to take a risk on God, on the people God places in our lives, with all their messiness, imperfections, chaos, and violence?

Merry Christmas!
Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF