Quiet Time - Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Advent, Year A

            Did you know that Paul McCartney composed the entire melody of Yesterday in a dream?  Or that Albert Einstein had a dream about sledding down a mountain at the speed of light that led to the development of his theory of relativity?  How about this?  Thomas Edison, one of the most successful and prolific inventors of all time, considered his near complete deafness to be his happiest, most productive place.  It seems like extraordinary accomplishments begin with a little quiet time. Today’s readings agree.

            Our first reading and our Gospel present opposing examples of our human relationship with God.  In our reading from Isaiah, Ahaz, the King of Judah, ignored God’s warnings and his sign of loving fidelity.  He joined with the kingdom of Assyria and plunged himself and his people “into the cauldron of Assyrian rapaciousness and brutality.”[1]  Ahaz refused God’s Word, and now he’s remembered, if at all, as a weak, vacillating king who represents Judah’s lack of faith.

            By contrast, in our Gospel we meet Joseph who had just learned that Mary, his betrothed, is pregnant with a child that’s not his.  He was pretty upset, no doubt, but “Matthew tells us that Joseph was a just man, a person of impeccable faith and integrity . . . .  So, rather than unleash all his justifiable emotions, he tried to discern God’s will.”[2]  He initially decided to divorce Mary privately, but God had another plan.  In the quiet solitude of sleep, Joseph learned in a dream that the child is of the Holy Spirit, that he should take Mary as his wife and adopt the child as his own.  Joseph welcomed God’s Word, and now he’s remembered as the righteous, faithful stepfather of our Lord—and as they guy who’ll sell your house if you bury his statue upside down in your yard!

            What’s the difference between Ahaz and Joseph?  There are many, but my early Christmas gift to you is that I’ll only address one in this homily—quiet time.  Ahaz is so consumed by fear and confusion that he ignores the divine sign sent to bolster his faith and rushes to a hasty, fateful decision.  Joseph, on the other hand, seeks and finds God’s will in the quiet of his heart and in peaceful slumber.

            We all need quiet time.  Quiet time offers us tremendous physical and spiritual benefits beyond just a little rest.  It helps develop new brain cells in the area of brain responsible for learning, remembering, and emotions, and it decreases stress by lowering cortisol and adrenaline levels in the bloodstream.[3]  Most importantly, quiet time helps us develop our relationship with God.  Just think about how many times we find God leading people to extraordinary accomplishments in quiet time.  Moses was out in the wilderness tending sheep when he noticed the burning bush and received God’s command to “Bring my people out of Egypt” (Ex. 3:10).  Elijah was hiding alone in a cave when God’s still, small voice emboldened him to continue his prophetic mission (1 Kings 19:12).  Saint Joseph, who apparently slept a lot, received God’s instructions on how to protect Mary and Jesus four times in dreams (Matt. 1:20; 2:13, 19, 22), and we know from the Gospels that Jesus frequently would “withdraw to deserted places to pray” (Luke 5:16).

Do you get the picture?  We all need quiet time with God.  God is speaking to us in every moment of our lives.  We need to slow down and listen up.  Scripture makes clear that hearing God’s Word, trusting his divine Wisdom, and following his commands lie at the heart of our relationship with God.  “First, people must discern the voice of God amid the cacophony of human noise.  Then [we] must obey that voice, [and] enact it in time and history.”[4]  Divine inspiration, comfort, and peace wait for us in quiet time, just like it did for Moses, Elijah, Joseph, Jesus, Paul McCartney, Albert Einstein, and Thomas Edison.

I know what you’re thinking.  How am I supposed to find quiet time?  I have presents to wrap, projects to complete, a wedding to plan, the kids need a bath, I have to take my parents grocery shopping, and Season 3 of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel was just released.  You can’t say that Deacon Mike doesn’t have his finger on the pulse of the people!  I’m the father of two teenage daughters.  I know how hard it is to find quiet time.  So I can tell you that the only way to find quiet time is to make it.  We have to commit ourselves to setting aside a part of each day to spend a little quiet time with God.  Go for a walk; watch the sun rise (or set if you’re a late riser); stop in Church when you’re driving by and sit before the Blessed Sacrament for 5 minutes; lay on the couch, and place yourself in God’s presence, whatever works.  There’s always time to do the things we really want to do, and I assure you that wrapping presents, finishing projects, planning a wedding, bathing the kids, and taking your parents grocery shopping will be all-the-more do-able and enjoyable after a little quiet time with God.  I’m not so sure about watching Mrs. Maisel.  Why are they more do-able and enjoyable?  Because after a little quiet time with God, everything you do will be infused with God’s love and inspiration. 

I can tell you from my own experience that I’ve heard God’s voice speaking just to me on long walks in the woods, while swimming laps, and yes, even after a cat nap or a few hours of sleep.  In that quiet time God has eased my fears, guided me through sticky situations, and helped me find the right words for my homilies when writer’s block sets in.  At this point, you may be thinking that I could’ve used a little more quiet time before writing this homily.  Nevertheless, make the time for a little quiet time, and you’ll find God waiting there for you, too, offering you guidance, inspiration, and peace.  Spend a little quiet time with God!  You won’t regret it.      

            There’s a reason why Jesus was born when the whole world was at peace, on that silent, holy night when all was calm: so people might notice his presence among us and make room for him in our inns.  The Advent Season is all about making room for Jesus.  It’s a time to welcome God’s Word, like Saint Joseph did.  It’s a time to pay attention to God’s movements in our lives, to hear his voice, to receive his inspiration, and follow his lead.  Advent reminds us that extraordinary things are coming.  It’s no surprise, then, that Advent ends, and Christmas begins, with a little quiet time.

Readings: Isaiah 7:10-14; Psalm 24; Romans 1:1-7; Matthew 1:18-24

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[1] Walter Brueggemann, Isaiah 1-39 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1998), 71-72.

[2] Mary M. McGlone, “Joseph’s Dilemma,” National Catholic Reporter, vol. 56, no. 5 (December 13-26, 2019), 19.

[3] Gustavo Razzetti, “Why Silence is the Think Tank of the Soul,” Liberationist, https://liberationist.org/why-silence-is-the-think-tank-of-the-soul/.

[4] John Shea, The Spiritual Wisdom of the Gospels for Christian Preachers and Teachers: On Earth as It is in Heaven, Matthew, Year A (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2004), 46.

What’s So Good About That? - Homily for the 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C

          I’m sure we’ve all heard that the word “gospel” is derived from the Old English word for “good news.” So let me get this straight. In today’s “good news,” Jesus tells us to expect wars, insurrections, earthquakes, famines, and plagues, that we’ll be handed over by parents, brothers, relatives, and friends, we’ll face persecution and imprisonment, we’ll be hated by all, and some of us will be put to death. What’s so good about that? Perhaps a deeper dive into our readings will help us find out.    

         

Today’s first reading from Malachi and our Gospel from Luke are examples of apocalyptic literature. The word “apocalypse” simply means “revelation” or “unveiling.” In fact, the name of the Book of Revelation in its original Greek is Apocalypsis (Ἀποκάλυψις). Apocalyptic passages in Scripture speak of the end times—the time when the world as we know it will come to an end, and the Kingdom of God will reign forever. Unfortunately, the word apocalypse has gotten a bad rap. We’ve lost its broader meaning as a result of fundamentalist interpretations of Scripture, movies like Apocalypse Now, and TV shows like Good Omens. The word invokes in our mind’s eye only tumultuous, violent, end-of-the-world scenarios that we’d rather not think about and not the happy ending that Scripture promises. We’ve forgotten that the apocalyptic passages in the Bible tell us that at the end of time, God will conquer all evil and save the righteous. As our first reading tells us, “God’s fire can both destroy and heal.”[1] So we have nothing to be afraid of, as long as we’re on the right side.

For sure, today’s readings present hard truths spoken with conviction. We have to take them seriously. Yet, “the most important element of apocalyptic literature is that the present evil age is coming to an end through a powerful intervention from God.”[2] Christians believe that the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus is that intervention. That’s why it’s been the longstanding tradition of the Church to end the liturgical year with apocalyptic readings, not to scare us to death, but to point us to Jesus Christ, whose first and second comings we anticipate in Advent. The Church wants to remind us to get on Jesus’ side. Jesus’ side is the right side. Jesus is our happy ending. Jesus is the good news!

So why all this talk about wars, famines, persecutions, and death? Jesus was a realist. He saw the world as it really is. He wants us to know that these things are the consequences of evil, that they will continue, and that “disciples are not exempt from suffering”[3] The forces of evil won’t go down without a good fight. But he also wants us to know that he suffered with us and for us. Just look at his life as reported in the Gospels. Jesus experienced temptation, fear, sadness, agony, false accusation, gossip, mocking, mourning, pain, humiliation, and death, just like we do. “The passion of Jesus is not over; it continues in those who follow him. [But] suffering is not the whole of it. Resurrection is the deeper and more abiding truth.”[4] How we face these challenges is our choice. Will we sit around waiting for the end to come while accomplishing nothing, like the Thessalonians in our second reading? Will we wring our hands in fear, wondering if we’ll end up on the wrong side? Or will we pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and get on the right side?

Jesus calls us to face these challenges as he did—as faithful witnesses to the good news of a loving God who offers us eternal life. “We are in a time of witnessing in the face of suffering and death.” [5] If anyone doubts that we live in a period of Christian witness, consider the roll call of the imprisoned and martyred Saints we celebrate this month and the countless persecuted Christians around the world still today. “There has never been a time in human history when wars, earthquakes, famines, and plagues have not been part of the picture.”[6] It’s in times like these that we must turn to the examples of our “courageous and prophetic visionaries who devoted themselves completely to Jesus’ call to create community, oppose injustice, work for peace, and make a place for the excluded.”[7] Jesus assures us that by our endurance, we will gain our lives (Luke 21:19), so we need to use whatever time we may have on this planet wisely and well:

-         If we want an end to war, we need to get on Jesus’ side and witness to the Gospel.

-         If we want an end to terrorist attacks and shootings, we need to get on Jesus’s side and witness to the Gospel.  

-         If we want the naked clothed, the hungry fed, the homeless sheltered, and the sick and dying comforted, we need to get on Jesus’ side and witness to the Gospel.

If we want to make sure we end up on the right side, we need to live like the saints we’re intended to be. We need to work for justice, fight for equality, and lift up the lowly, all the while proclaiming the victory of our God, resounding with the sea, clapping with the rivers, and shouting with the mountains like our psalmist (Psalm 98: 7,8). Jesus invites every one of us to sainthood in every moment of our lives. Living like a saint means accepting the challenges of life as moments of grace and opportunities to give witness to the Gospel.

Apocalyptic writings present hard truths that we can’t ignore, but they also paint a beautiful picture of “the tenacity of faith and hope among the people of God.”[8] How so? Because today’s readings and every apocalyptic passage in the Bible make clear that those who witness to the Gospel have nothing to worry about at the end of time. No matter how our lives may end, not a hair on our heads will be destroyed. That’s what’s so good about the good news.

  

Readings: Malachi 3:19-20a; Psalm 98; 2 Thessalonians 3:7-12; Luke 21:5-19

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[1] Elaine Park, Konrad Schaeffer, Douglas Leal, Workbook for Lectors, Gospel Readers, and Proclaimers of the Word: 2019 Year C (Chicago: Liturgy Training Publications, 2018), 287.

[2] Jude Winkler, New St. Joseph Handbook for Proclaimers of the Word: Liturgical Year C 2019 (New Jersey: Catholic Book Publishing Corp, 2018), 392.

[3] Fred B. Craddock, Luke: Interpretation, A Bible Commentary for Preaching and Teaching (Louisville, John Knox Press, 2009), 245.

[4] John Shea, The Spiritual Wisdom of the Gospels for Christian Preachers and Teachers: The Relentless Widow, Year C (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2006), 316.

[5] Craddock.

[6] Michael F. Patella, “The Gospel According to Luke,” in New Collegeville Bible Commentary: New Testament, ed. Daniel Durken (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2009), 296.

[7] R. Alan Culpepper, “The Gospel of Luke,” in The New Interpreter’s Bible, vol. IX, ed. Leander E. Keck (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1995), 402.

[8] Craddock 243.