The Best Seat in the House

                Some have accused me of becoming a Deacon so I would always have a seat in Church on Christmas and Easter.  Well, that wasn't the only reason, but I can’t deny that the Deacon’s Bench (as we call it) is, literally and figuratively, the best seat in the house.   Allow me to share a few Christmas observations from the Deacon’s Bench.

                My Christmas began with 4:00 pm Mass on Christmas Eve.  This is the most popular Mass at our Parish, so we celebrate Mass both in the Church and in the Parish Hall at the same time.  And it’s PACKED.  My very rough estimate is that we had over 700 people in the Church and over 300 in the Parish Hall.  That’s just for the first two Masses of Christmas; we had six more Masses after that.

 

Of course, many attendees are – how shall I put it? – infrequent fliers.   These Masses can be a little awkward as those unfamiliar with the new Mass parts stumble over the responses and don’t quite have the hang of the whole communion process.  I’ll admit, the infrequent fliers used to annoy me.  If you’re not going to come to Church regularly, why bother on Christmas?  But somewhere in my adulthood, well before I earned my reserved seat as a Deacon, my perspective changed.  I realized that the infrequent fliers needed Christmas Mass more than I did.  The Holy Spirit inspired them to go to Mass, so the least I could do is make a little room for them in a pew and in my heart.  Maybe they’d come back before Easter if they felt welcomed by our community.  So from my vantage point, a PACKED Church at Christmas is a symbol of hope – hope that our parish made a good impression and hope that the infrequent fliers will be back soon.

After the 4:00 pm Mass, it’s my family’s tradition to spend the evening with our neighbors.  We've become very close over the years, so it’s a nice, relaxing evening filled with Christmas revelry and a little irreverent jocularity.   OK, a lot of irreverent jocularity, but hey, it’s Christmas.  We had a great time.  We even got to see Catzilla pay homage to the Holy Family.  This observation is not the result of an imagination run wild or too much egg nog, as evidenced by the attached photo.   

Everyone needs good friends – people with whom we can be ourselves:  no fancy airs, no one upmanship; just ourselves, warts and all.  Christmas is a great time to celebrate these relationships because “relationship” is what the Incarnation is all about.  God freely chooses to be in active relationship with us.  God chose to dwell among us, to become our brother, to make sure we know that he understands us and accepts us, warts and all.  So from where I sit, Christmas brings great joy – the joy nurtured in good times with good friends; and the joy of knowing that God so loved the world that he sent his only Son.

Christmas also allowed me to minister to those who are facing tough times.  I was able to give a big hug to Jackie, who was celebrating her first Christmas without her mother; I was blessed to bring Communion to Bob and Jenn, who are facing serious illnesses; and I was asked to pray with Tom (Jenn’s husband) and the whole family as they spend their first Christmas without Tom’s father.  Ministry is immensely rewarding in so many ways, but I’d have to say that witnessing the deep faith of people like Jackie, Bob, Jenn, and Tom tops the list.  Faith is challenged most – and strengthened most – by sickness and death.  Christmas is all about faith – you either believe that God is with us, or you don’t.  The faith of those who turn to God in these most difficult times, knowing that God is with us, is inspiring, to say the least. 

What would Christmas be without spending time with family?  My day started (a little too early) opening presents with my wife and daughters, who are always so thoughtful about the gifts they give and grateful for those they receive.  We had Christmas dinner at my sister’s, with almost the whole family present.  Another relaxing, comfortable time spent with loved ones.  We all need strong family ties.  Family represents our history:  who we are; where we came from; and where we’re going.  Family gives us stability in an unstable world; family gives us peace (well, at least an inner peace, if not always an outer peace).  What better time to celebrate family than at Christmas as we welcome the Prince of Peace into our human family?  

           My Christmas observations didn't come to me exclusively in my role as a Deacon, but my perspective on them is certainly shaped by the fact that I am a Deacon.  It’s a wonderful perspective to have – one shaped by hope, joy, faith and peace.  The view from the Deacon’s Bench is a good one.  I can’t deny it; it’s the best seat in the house.

We Need a Little Christmas – NOW!

Paintings of the Birth of Christ, Gerard van Honthorst, 1622

                We say that Advent is supposed to be a time of “joyful expectation.”  Well, I don’t know about you, but my Advent has been downright depressing.  It started with the news of yet another parishioner’s cancer diagnosis.  Then a friend was scheduled for emergency back surgery three days before Christmas.  Another friend’s daughter continues her struggle with a rare, painful autoinflammatory disorder.  Last Wednesday, my nephew, Brian, was admitted to the hospital with a stomach flu that’s complicated by his colectomy.  (You may recall that Brian was hospitalized last Christmas, so we’re praying hard that he’ll be home this year.)  That same day, my mother and I hastened to Texas to visit my Uncle Bob, whose health is failing.  And if that weren't enough, three policemen were gunned down in cold-blood over the weekend.  Enough already.  We need a little Christmas – NOW!

                I love Christmas.  I love the candles in the window and the carols at the spinet.  I love the gift-giving and gift-receiving.  I love the fruit cake, the family and the fellowship.  I love Christmas Mass – whether it’s the 4 pm Mass where both the Church and the parish hall are packed tighter than Santa’s sleigh, or Midnight Mass with all the smells and bells.  I love coming home from Midnight Mass with the children nestled all snug in their beds, while I quietly place baby Jesus and the “Gloria” angel in our nativity.  But most of all, I love what Christmas brings – faith, hope, joy and peace.  We could use a little of each, right now.

                Faith is a gift from God by which we’re invited to accept and respond to the Truth that God has revealed to us.  Faith teaches us to trust God, to believe that God is eternally faithful – that he keeps his promises.  Through faith, Christmas invites us to trust that God is with us in our sickness and in our pain, that his little angel is sitting on our shoulder. 

                Hope is an attitude based on positive expectations.  Hope gives us an outlook that transcends this world, a snappy, happy-ever-after assurance that “all shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well.”[1]  Christmas gives us the hope of eternal life that encourages us to persevere through the struggles of this life, confident “that no eye has seen, no ear has heard and no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him.”[2] 

                Joy is a sharing in God’s life.  Joy persists through sorrow and suffering; joy sustains us and encourages us to live each living day; joy carries us into the fullness of God’s eternal joy.  Christmas delivers the joyful message that God loves us so much that he sent “his own Son into the dysfunction of the world so that he might gather that world into the bliss of the divine life.”[3]

                Peace is a state of harmony and tranquility.  In peace, we live without fear, conflict or violence.  Christmas inaugurates the reign of the Prince of Peace, allowing us to sleep in heavenly peace.

                At prayer this morning at Immaculate Conception School, the children gathered around the Advent Wreath as their Vice Principal lit the candles symbolizing the four weeks of Advent.  As she lit each candle, Diane reminded the children what each candle represents:  faith, hope, joy and peace.  She reminded me, too.  That’s exactly what I needed to face the challenges this past month has thrown at me.  We all need faith, hope, joy and peace.  We all need a little Christmas – NOW!


Click here to listen to "We Need A Little Christmas" from the musical Mame.

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[1] Julian of Norwich, The Showings.

[2] 1 Corinthians 2: 9.

[3] Robert Barron, The Strangest Way:  Walking the Christian Path (Maryknoll, Orbis, 2002) at 31.

Joy to the World

Godspell, "Prepare ye the way of the Lord!"

         In the beginning of the movie Godspell, we hear the voice of one crying out in Central Park:

Prepare ye the way of the Lord!

This joyful voice, though not as good as mine, echoes through the streets of New York, summoning disciples from their daily grind to the Bethesda Fountain.  There, we find John the Baptist, sporting a multi-colored tailcoat and jeans, holding hands with the winged-angel statue that hovers above the fountain.  One-by-one they come – a waitress, an artist, a taxi driver and his passenger, a business woman – running, skipping, dancing their way into Central Park.  One-by-one, they join John in song and plunge themselves into the fountain to be baptized by him.  If I had to characterize this 1973 flash mob with one word, it would be joy.  Preparing the way of the Lord isn’t a dreary, frightful chore; it’s a joyful conversion of heart because the Messiah brings joy to the world.

       

        On this third Sunday of Advent, Gaudete Sunday, our readings call us “to cultivate joy and allow it to sustain us.”[1]  Joy is the common thread in today’s readings.  In our passage from Isaiah, the prophet says, “I rejoice heartily in the Lord, in my God is the joy of my soul.”  In our Responsorial, we hear our Blessed Mother beautifully proclaim to Elizabeth:   “My spirit rejoices in God my Savior.”  And in our second reading, Saint Paul “encourages his readers to let joyfulness be a constant characteristic of their daily lives.”[2]  Isaiah, Mary and Paul have prepared the way of the Lord, just as John preaches in our Gospel; they've centered their lives on God, and they rejoice in it. 

        So what is the joy that’s ushered in by the Messiah?  What are we preparing for?  It isn't just happiness.  It’s not that giddy feeling we get on Christmas morning when realize that the Elf on the Shelf will finally go back home to the North Pole.  It’s not the belly laugh that wells up inside of you when you see your clergy dressed in pink twice a year.  It’s deeper than that.  Joy is sharing in God’s life.  God loves us so much that he sent “his own Son into the dysfunction of the world so that he might gather that world into the bliss of the divine life.”[3]  That’s the message, that’s the opportunity that the Word Made Flesh brought into the world, and with that message comes great joy.  Accepting this fundamental truth brings with it eternal joy, a joy that persists through sorrow and suffering, a joy that sustains and comforts us in this life, and that carries us into the fullness of God’s eternal joy in the next.    

        Saint Paul is serious when he tells us to “Rejoice always!”  Joy isn't a fleeting emotion; it’s a way of life.  “Joy does not simply happen to us.  We have to choose joy and keep choosing it every day.”[4]  Just think of the people in your life who are always joyful, no matter what.  Aside from being a little annoying, they’re pretty remarkable people.  They have the same problems and challenges that the rest of us have (sometimes even more), but they choose to be joyful.  They choose to focus on the good things in their lives, and they choose to be grateful to God for them.  They choose to spread their joy, not their sorrows.  They choose to bring joy to the world.  Being joyful is a choice.  “There is so much rejection, pain, and woundedness among us, but once you choose to claim the joy hidden in the midst of all suffering, life becomes celebration.”[5] 

        What’s their secret?  What helps these joyful people choose joy?  They've centered their lives on God.  Like Isaiah, Mary, Saint Paul and John the Baptist, joyful people put God at the center of their lives.  Isaiah set aside his shortcomings to accept his call to be God’s prophet; Mary, despite her youth, gave her assent to God’s wish that she should be his mother; Paul gave up a life of prominence for a life of imprisonment, beatings, shipwreck and ultimately death, all to preach God’s word to the Gentiles; and John shunned earthly comforts to prepare the way of the Lord.  For Isaiah, Mary, Paul, John and all joyful people, God comes first.  When God comes first, our lives are properly ordered; our paths are made straight; we put the needs of others before our own, and we’re filled with God’s joy.

        The great thing about God’s joy is that it’s catchy.  It can’t be contained.  Think of the impact that Isaiah, Mary, Paul and John the Baptist have had on civilization.  By putting God at the center of their lives, they've brought joy to the world.  Think, again, of those joyful, God-centered people in our lives.  We can’t help but smile when we’re around them.  They spread joy by being joyful.  They bring joy to the world.  Like a great flash mob, what starts with one person grows into a joyful chorus singing God’s praise, bringing joy to the world.

        I saw a great flash mob on YouTube the other day.  It took place in December last year at the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum in Washington, DC.  It started with a lone cellist, sporting a crisp, blue uniform, fittingly bowing the rolling strains of Bach’s Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring.  One-by-one they came, a doublebass, then violins, violas and woodwinds.  One-by-one, each member of the United States Air Force Band joined together to prepare the way of the Lord in song, sharing their joy and their talent with their amazed audience, who received that joy with  smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes.  If I had to characterize this 2013 flash mob with one word, it would be joy.  And if that weren't moving enough, a dozen or more trumpets announced the transition to a familiar hymn, a hymn that captures the message of our readings perfectly:    

Joy to the world, the Lord is come!

U.S. Air Force Flash Mob, 2013

Readings:  Isaiah 61: 1-2a, 10-11; Luke 1: 46-50, 53-54; 1 Thessalonians 5: 16-24; John 1: 6-8, 19-28

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[1] Patricia Datchuk Sánchez. “Enlivened by Joy,” National Catholic Reporter, vol. 51, no. 4 (December 5-18, 2014) at 27.

[2] “Joy,” The Anchor Bible Dictionary, vol. 3, David Noel Freedman, ed., (New York, Doubleday, 1992) at 1023. 

[3] Robert Barron, The Strangest Way:  Walking the Christian Path (Maryknoll, Orbis, 2002) at 31.

[4] Henri Nouwen, Here and Now, 1994.

[5] Henri Nouwen, The Return of the Prodigal Son (New York, Doubleday, 1992) at 116.

Halos All Around Me

                I don’t believe in coincidences.  The topic of our RCIA class this morning was “Mary and the Saints.”  You know, all the folks you see in Christian art with the halos over their heads.  Saints are important to Catholics because they’re our role models; our heroes, if you will.  Not all Christian faiths venerate the Saints the way Catholics do, so it’s important for those seeking to join the Church through our RCIA program to understand what Catholics believe (and what we don’t believe) about the Saints.  At the end of the class, Anne, our catechist extraordinaire, made an impromptu change to her presentation.  She had intended to share a prayer with the class, but instead she shared a beautiful piece about the saintliness of everyday people who touch our lives in so many ways.  I don’t have the text to share with you, but it basically said that there are halos all around us.  This piece really resonated with me because I had just spent my whole weekend bumping into everyday Saints.  The topic of the day and Anne’s change of plans was no coincidence.

                It started on Friday night in a conversation with Bob at our Parish staff Christmas party.  Bob was telling us about the challenges he and his wife dealt with when they were adopting their daughter from Russia.  The waiting, the run arounds, the legal bureaucracy and the cost seemed overwhelming to say the least.  But they persisted, so a young girl who would've grown up in an orphanage now lives in a happy, healthy home with a loving family.  How about a halo for Bob and his wife?

                When I got home from the party, I decided to do a quick Facebook check before going to bed.  My friend Kelly had posted a link for a hat company called Halo Hats.  For every hat purchased, Halo Hats donates a hat to a cancer patient at St. Jude’s Children’s Research Hospital or at other hospitals treating children for cancer.  I needed a hat, so I thought I’d check it out in the morning.  A hat for me and a halo for Kelly.

                I woke up early Saturday morning, because I’m now officially old, and decided to check out Halo Hats right away.  When I went back on Facebook to get the link, I was greeted with 14 birthday wishes from friends and family, old and new.  And the birthday greetings just kept pinging in one after another the entire time I was on Facebook.  I note, for the record, that the “Happy Birthdays” that greeted me on Saturday morning were sent by people who were up earlier than I was, so they must be even older than I am.  Halos to the left of me; halos to the right of me; halos all around me.

                When I got to the Halo Hats webpage, I learned that the company was founded by Carlos Raymond Saavedra, who was diagnosed with cancer at the age of six.  Carlos knows what it’s like to be bald and the comfort that a good hat can bring during chemo and radiation treatments, so from his personal experience and the inspiration of his guardian angels, Halo Hats was born on October 11, 2013, the same day as Carlos’ cancer diagnosis 17 years earlier.  Did I mention that I don’t believe in coincidences?

  After wiping away a tear or two, I found a great assortment of really cool hats on the Halo Hats webpage.  So I bought five – two for me and one each for my wife and two daughters.  (Don’t tell them, it’s a Christmas surprise.  They only know that they’re getting a special gift where for every one I bought, a child with cancer gets the same thing).  That purchase led me to Linda, who, I later realized, is Carlos’ mom.  Linda confirmed my order and told me that since I ordered on my birthday, they were going to send me a birthday hat – I’m not sure exactly what that is, but I’m guessing a crown with streamers, because that would totally scream me.  Linda asked how I’d heard of Halo Hats, so I told her about Kelly’s Facebook post and that I purchased the hats for my family.  She shared a little of her experience with Carlos at Saint Jude’s and spoke of what a thrill it is to see the kids light up when Carlos presents them with their hats.   Then Linda offered to share that thrill with my family and me – she’s sending us “Halo Head” hats for each of us to present to a cancer patient or survivor that we know.  What a gift!  Hats off and halos on for Carlos, Linda and all the great people at Halo Hats!

We’re all called to be Saints, so following the path of the righteous who've gone before us is a great way to kick off our own journey toward sainthood.  Fortunately, there are lots of people doing just that every day in ordinary and extraordinary ways.  I was blinded by all of the halos I bumped into this weekend.  From the gifts, phone calls, texts, personal messages, birthday dinner and cake from my family and friends, to my introduction to the great folks at Halo Hats, I am truly blessed to have halos all around me.  And I know it’s no coincidence.

Every mention of Halo Hats in this post is hot-linked to their webpage.  Check them out!  You'll be glad you did.