5th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Cycle C
Is 6:1-2a,3-8
1 Cor 15: 1-11
Lk 5:1-11
There is a parishioner I have known for many years; one of the most unselfish, generous, and loving people I know. She especially loves little children. A few years back she asked to serve as a Eucharistic Minister. I began to notice that she never chose to distribute the hosts, only the Precious Blood. Even when she was a lead minister, she always chose the cup. Finally I asked her why, and her answer surprised me. She said that she never gave out the hosts because that meant she would also have to give a blessing to the babies and little children, and she felt unworthy to do so. With all the goodness I knew she had in her, she didn’t think she was good enough to touch the children. That saddened me.
It seems to be a common attitude. We consider Isaiah to be one of the greatest prophets. We call St. Paul “The Apostle”, even though he was not one of the twelve. We revere St. Peter as the leader of the apostles and our first pope. All three are heroes and saints. Yet all three really didn’t think much of themselves either, did they? They didn’t think they had what it takes to serve the Lord. It wasn’t some false sense of humility. They really didn’t think they were worthy to serve as God was calling them, and, like my friend, they really didn’t want to do it, either. Many of us feel the same way.
What is worthiness? Where do we get it? Is it something that we earn? Is it an inner feeling we have or something bestowed upon us by others? Is it just our sense of self esteem or is it something more? Why do some people worry about it so much that they cannot even see the ultimate good in themselves?
Why would something keep you from touching the children?
We feel worthy when we believe we deserve to get something or do something. We feel worthy when we’re proud of our actions, when we see ourselves as good people who do good things. But we don’t always see ourselves as good, do we? We don’t always do good things, and that affects how we view ourselves. But that doesn’t affect how our God sees us.
God does not create evil. He does not create bad things. He creates only good.
We think of worthiness in terms of our own productivity and actions. We are worthy because we do something. Not so with God. You are worthy simply because God has made you worthy. We cannot earn worthiness with God; we can never pretend that we can be perfect as God is perfect on our own. God has willed you to be with him. He has created you good. He has willed you to be worthy.
Last week we heard the Lord tell the prophet Jeremiah, “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you.” Before you were even conceived, God knew you. God knew what you would look like, who your family would be, where you would live, how you would grow up, what career you would choose, who you would marry, who your children would be, and how and when you would die. He knew all the good you would do and all the sins you would commit…and he created you anyway. Because even with all your imperfections and failings, you are still inherently good. Because God created you that way. In His image. Which is the ultimate good.
That is the basis of every Church teaching…that human beings have been created with great inherent dignity and worth. Simply because God has chosen to look on us that way. Every teaching on human life – abortion and euthanasia, sexuality and marriage, economic equality and immigration – has its basis in that fact. You are worthy. You have worth, even if you cannot do anything for yourself. Even if you are not productive. Even if you have no money or title. God cares not for these things. He cares only for you.
Catholic Christian belief is that God has created everyone inherently good. We’re good people who sometimes screw up. We sin, we confess, and we change our lives. Some other Christians see humanity as the opposite, as inherently sinful and evil people who need to be saved. Catholics are optimists, and our view of the world is optimistic. We do not ignore the sin and evil present in the world; on the contrary, we are some of the most vocal denouncers of that evil wherever it rears its ugly head. But we do not paint humanity with one broad brush. We take it down to the level of the individual, who has dignity and not only needs to be saved, but can actually be saved.
There is hope for everyone, even for Saul of Tarsus, who went so far as to persecute and kill the followers of Christ. There is hope for Simon Peter, who actually denied he even knew Jesus in his darkest hour. Because Jesus didn’t see Saul as a Roman Citizen, or a Jew, or a Pharisee, and therefore dismiss him out of hand. He didn’t see Simon Peter as a dirty, illiterate fisherman, and therefore ignore him. There were many people on that lakeside beach. Jesus knew all their hearts. He chose to hop in Peter’s boat. No labels or prejudices. Jesus saw them as individuals. He knew them before they were formed in the womb. He knew who they were destined to be, with all their imperfections. He loved them even though he knew they would both reject him at some time in their lives. And he created them anyway.
It is at the time of our denial of God that God holds us closest and gives us the opportunity to love him. Saul was on his way to arrest Christians when he had his conversion. Peter’s moment of truth was in that courtyard right after he denied his Lord, and he wept bitterly. At that moment he realized what he had done and determined never to deny Jesus again, even unto death.
In a few minutes we will all take part in the greatest sign of our worthiness, as Jesus Christ himself will become part of our very selves. Before we receive him, body, soul and divinity, we will say together, “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word, and I shall be healed.” This is not a moment of penitence. We already had the penitential rite at the beginning of Mass. We don’t have to say we’re sorry one last time before we receive communion. No, our declaration is one of hope. In saying it, we acknowledge our true relationship with God. We state that we know we are not worthy and can never make ourselves worthy. Only God can do that. And just as all creation was willed into being by God with a word; it is by the Word of God that we shall be healed. Jesus. And he does will us to be worthy. He does will us to be able to be in his presence. Both today and forever.
Once we come to grips with this awesome gift from God, once we use it to realize our own place in the great scheme of things, once we embrace exactly what our relationship with God is, only then can we live lives of true humility. Unworthiness leads to humiliation. Freely given and freely accepted worthiness leads to humility. And humility leads to a life of true service to God and to his people.
He makes us worthy to be sent out as his prophets, apostles, and fishers of men. Because that’s the ultimate result of God’s plan for us. He makes us worthy to represent him to the world, to be sacrament to mankind. Isaiah, Paul, Peter and all the apostles came to the realization that once they were made worthy they had to do something with it. They couldn’t just sit at home and think they had it made. They were all called to go out and spread that same message of worthiness to all of God’s people. Even though for all of them it meant a martyr’s death.
We may not be called to be martyrs, but we are all called to love.
We are all called to touch the children.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Sunday, January 24, 2010
What is a Deacon?
3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time
Cycle C
Neh 8:2-4a, 5-6,8-10
1 Cor 12:12-30
Lk 1:1-4; 4:14-21
Today this scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing.
Today is a very special day for the church and especially for St. Mary’s. This morning we celebrate yesterday’s ordination of Bob Hardy from our parish and twenty other men from the diocese as permanent deacons. The ordination took place at the Cathedral of the Madeline, and if you’ve never seen an ordination liturgy you’re really missing out on something special. These twenty-one men have gone through four years of intense discernment and formation, over 1000 hours in the classroom and another 1000 hours in parish work, and they have been called from the people to be set aside in a special way in ministry of service.
Coincidentally, today is also the sixth anniversary of my own ordination, and since as you know our lectionary readings are divided up into three year cycles, the readings today are the same ones on which I preached my very first homily from this ambo six years ago today. So this morning is filled with many great memories as I’ve pondered in my heart the experiences of the past six years and rejoiced in Bob’s journey, which has been so similar to mine. And the scripture readings this morning are all about who a deacon is, so I thought I’d delve into it a bit.
The restoration of the permanent diaconate in the Church is less than forty years old, and the role of the deacon is still being formed. There is still a bit of confusion about who the deacon is and what he does and what his relationship is to the priest and bishop and people. A Mass doesn’t go by when someone comes up to me afterwards and says “Nice Mass, Father”. Or asks who that woman is who just kissed me. And the misunderstanding is not just on your side. Most of us didn’t grow up with permanent deacons in our parishes. And so it’s not clear exactly who deacons are or what we do. Deacons are also struggling to understand our place in the church, and many of us are just as confused as you are. As with most things in the church today, the diaconate is steeped in ancient tradition and yet is trying to fit in with the modern world.
The Greek word for servant is diaconos, and for service, diaconia. That’s why today’s readings are all about being deacons. Because they’re all about diaconia. They’re also about renewal and fulfillment of ancient promises.
St. Paul says today that from the beginning of the church, some people have been set aside to fulfill specific roles. He lists apostles, prophets, teachers, healers, servants, administrators, and preachers. And Paul discusses these roles in the context of the Body of Christ, which has many, many members, all of which are necessary to the functioning of the Body. While some have been set aside for special ministry in the church, all share in the diaconia of Christ, because all are part of the Body of Christ. It is as the Body of Christ that we all act as servant to the world.
One of those earliest roles was that of deacon. Some biblical scholars point to the appointment of the seven men in the Acts of the Apostles to serve at table as the genesis of the order of deacons. However, the word diaconos appears in many places in the New Testament, most specifically when Jesus refers to himself. All our roles come ultimately from the teachings and actions of Jesus. He was the first deacon, because he came not to be served but to serve.
He begins his public ministry in Luke’s gospel today by reading from the prophet Isaiah. He chooses this passage on purpose, and the prophesy he says is fulfilled this day is that of the suffering servant. He says he has been sent to serve the poor, the captives, the blind and the oppressed. He is sent to be deacon to the lowest of the low. To all those who have no hope.
However, from the earliest days of the church the role of deacon has been defined, even before we hear of the priesthood. From the beginning certain men were set aside by the people to offer service to the poor, to assist in the liturgy, and to preach the gospel. But as the centuries progressed the permanent diaconate faded out as the role of the priest expanded.
Permanent deacons are those men who will only be deacons; they are not on their way to the priesthood. Those men are called transitional deacons. Transitional deacons must be celibate, permanent deacons can be married. The diaconate never went away, only the permanent diaconate did. But it was restored by the second Vatican council. Actually, the seeds of the restoration were planted in the most unlikely of places: the death camp of Dachau during World War II.
The Nazis rounded up almost 3000 Catholic priests early in the war and sent them all to Dachau. And what do you get when you put 3000 priests all in the same place? Liturgy! Those priests saw the effects of great evil first hand, and they discussed among themselves how the Church could ensure that such evil was never allowed to rise again. One of the ideas they came up with was to restore and expand the role of the permanent deacon as a visible sign of Christ’s outreach to the world. Many of those same priests went on to be participants in Vatican II.
What the council laid out was the threefold ministry of the permanent deacon:
Service to the Word, service to the liturgy, and service to charity. Service to the word is foreshadowed in Nehemiah today. Ezra the scribe stood on a raised wooden platform and read from the book of the Law to the people who had just returned to Jerusalem from exile in Babylon. He read plainly from the book and interpreted the law for the people to understand. Yesterday our new deacons laid their hands on the book of the gospels in front of the bishop and received his authority to preach the good news.
Service to the liturgy has grown out of the need to serve the ever-growing number of the people of God. Originally the bishop performed all of the sacraments for the people. As the church grew, the need for assistants to the bishop grew also. Permanent deacons assist at the altar during the Mass, and are ordinary ministers of baptism, marriage and funeral rites. We are not little priests nor are we big altar boys. Our ministry is specific to us. The deacon is ordained by the bishop to serve him and the diocese. We assist the priests and work closely with them, but we all work together for the bishop. Yesterday Bob and the others made a solemn vow to obey the bishop and his successors. All deacons make the same lifetime commitment.
Service to charity is based upon the service of Christ we heard about in today’s gospel, along with the charge Jesus gives us in Matthew chapter 25 to feed the hungry, give respite to the thirsty, clothe the naked, visit prisoners. Deacons look to the feeding and care of the Body of Christ, both physically through charity to the poor and unfortunate, and spiritually by proclaiming the word of God and assisting at the liturgy. We are the eyes and the ears, a link between the parts of the body and the everyday world, but we are called to do so humbly, in the background, with little honor. We serve the body, and the body supports and sustains us.
But the beauty of the diaconate is that we’re all called to be deacons. Deacons are ordained to be special signs of the ministry of service we are all called to exercise because of our baptism. And we all model our life of service on the diaconia of Christ. Whenever we act as servants to one another and to the world we are exercising the diaconia of Christ. Whenever we join with the priest in the liturgy, we are joining ourselves to the priesthood of Christ. Whenever we stand up for the oppressed and speak truth to power we are joining with Christ the prophet. And whenever we act with the authority of the church we share in the kingdom of God as princes and princesses. All these roles were assigned to us at our baptism.
Today is a very special day of rejoicing that our newly ordained deacons have accepted the call to service to God and his church. It is also our time to rejoice that we all have been found worthy to serve, each in our own way, each of us necessary to the well being of the Body of Christ.
Cycle C
Neh 8:2-4a, 5-6,8-10
1 Cor 12:12-30
Lk 1:1-4; 4:14-21
Today this scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing.
Today is a very special day for the church and especially for St. Mary’s. This morning we celebrate yesterday’s ordination of Bob Hardy from our parish and twenty other men from the diocese as permanent deacons. The ordination took place at the Cathedral of the Madeline, and if you’ve never seen an ordination liturgy you’re really missing out on something special. These twenty-one men have gone through four years of intense discernment and formation, over 1000 hours in the classroom and another 1000 hours in parish work, and they have been called from the people to be set aside in a special way in ministry of service.
Coincidentally, today is also the sixth anniversary of my own ordination, and since as you know our lectionary readings are divided up into three year cycles, the readings today are the same ones on which I preached my very first homily from this ambo six years ago today. So this morning is filled with many great memories as I’ve pondered in my heart the experiences of the past six years and rejoiced in Bob’s journey, which has been so similar to mine. And the scripture readings this morning are all about who a deacon is, so I thought I’d delve into it a bit.
The restoration of the permanent diaconate in the Church is less than forty years old, and the role of the deacon is still being formed. There is still a bit of confusion about who the deacon is and what he does and what his relationship is to the priest and bishop and people. A Mass doesn’t go by when someone comes up to me afterwards and says “Nice Mass, Father”. Or asks who that woman is who just kissed me. And the misunderstanding is not just on your side. Most of us didn’t grow up with permanent deacons in our parishes. And so it’s not clear exactly who deacons are or what we do. Deacons are also struggling to understand our place in the church, and many of us are just as confused as you are. As with most things in the church today, the diaconate is steeped in ancient tradition and yet is trying to fit in with the modern world.
The Greek word for servant is diaconos, and for service, diaconia. That’s why today’s readings are all about being deacons. Because they’re all about diaconia. They’re also about renewal and fulfillment of ancient promises.
St. Paul says today that from the beginning of the church, some people have been set aside to fulfill specific roles. He lists apostles, prophets, teachers, healers, servants, administrators, and preachers. And Paul discusses these roles in the context of the Body of Christ, which has many, many members, all of which are necessary to the functioning of the Body. While some have been set aside for special ministry in the church, all share in the diaconia of Christ, because all are part of the Body of Christ. It is as the Body of Christ that we all act as servant to the world.
One of those earliest roles was that of deacon. Some biblical scholars point to the appointment of the seven men in the Acts of the Apostles to serve at table as the genesis of the order of deacons. However, the word diaconos appears in many places in the New Testament, most specifically when Jesus refers to himself. All our roles come ultimately from the teachings and actions of Jesus. He was the first deacon, because he came not to be served but to serve.
He begins his public ministry in Luke’s gospel today by reading from the prophet Isaiah. He chooses this passage on purpose, and the prophesy he says is fulfilled this day is that of the suffering servant. He says he has been sent to serve the poor, the captives, the blind and the oppressed. He is sent to be deacon to the lowest of the low. To all those who have no hope.
However, from the earliest days of the church the role of deacon has been defined, even before we hear of the priesthood. From the beginning certain men were set aside by the people to offer service to the poor, to assist in the liturgy, and to preach the gospel. But as the centuries progressed the permanent diaconate faded out as the role of the priest expanded.
Permanent deacons are those men who will only be deacons; they are not on their way to the priesthood. Those men are called transitional deacons. Transitional deacons must be celibate, permanent deacons can be married. The diaconate never went away, only the permanent diaconate did. But it was restored by the second Vatican council. Actually, the seeds of the restoration were planted in the most unlikely of places: the death camp of Dachau during World War II.
The Nazis rounded up almost 3000 Catholic priests early in the war and sent them all to Dachau. And what do you get when you put 3000 priests all in the same place? Liturgy! Those priests saw the effects of great evil first hand, and they discussed among themselves how the Church could ensure that such evil was never allowed to rise again. One of the ideas they came up with was to restore and expand the role of the permanent deacon as a visible sign of Christ’s outreach to the world. Many of those same priests went on to be participants in Vatican II.
What the council laid out was the threefold ministry of the permanent deacon:
Service to the Word, service to the liturgy, and service to charity. Service to the word is foreshadowed in Nehemiah today. Ezra the scribe stood on a raised wooden platform and read from the book of the Law to the people who had just returned to Jerusalem from exile in Babylon. He read plainly from the book and interpreted the law for the people to understand. Yesterday our new deacons laid their hands on the book of the gospels in front of the bishop and received his authority to preach the good news.
Service to the liturgy has grown out of the need to serve the ever-growing number of the people of God. Originally the bishop performed all of the sacraments for the people. As the church grew, the need for assistants to the bishop grew also. Permanent deacons assist at the altar during the Mass, and are ordinary ministers of baptism, marriage and funeral rites. We are not little priests nor are we big altar boys. Our ministry is specific to us. The deacon is ordained by the bishop to serve him and the diocese. We assist the priests and work closely with them, but we all work together for the bishop. Yesterday Bob and the others made a solemn vow to obey the bishop and his successors. All deacons make the same lifetime commitment.
Service to charity is based upon the service of Christ we heard about in today’s gospel, along with the charge Jesus gives us in Matthew chapter 25 to feed the hungry, give respite to the thirsty, clothe the naked, visit prisoners. Deacons look to the feeding and care of the Body of Christ, both physically through charity to the poor and unfortunate, and spiritually by proclaiming the word of God and assisting at the liturgy. We are the eyes and the ears, a link between the parts of the body and the everyday world, but we are called to do so humbly, in the background, with little honor. We serve the body, and the body supports and sustains us.
But the beauty of the diaconate is that we’re all called to be deacons. Deacons are ordained to be special signs of the ministry of service we are all called to exercise because of our baptism. And we all model our life of service on the diaconia of Christ. Whenever we act as servants to one another and to the world we are exercising the diaconia of Christ. Whenever we join with the priest in the liturgy, we are joining ourselves to the priesthood of Christ. Whenever we stand up for the oppressed and speak truth to power we are joining with Christ the prophet. And whenever we act with the authority of the church we share in the kingdom of God as princes and princesses. All these roles were assigned to us at our baptism.
Today is a very special day of rejoicing that our newly ordained deacons have accepted the call to service to God and his church. It is also our time to rejoice that we all have been found worthy to serve, each in our own way, each of us necessary to the well being of the Body of Christ.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
What Must We Do?
3rd Sunday of Advent
Year C
Shout for Joy, O daughter Zion! Sing Joyfully, O Israel! Be Glad and Exult, with all your heart!
Not much to rejoice about these days, is there? Things aren’t going so well, it seems. We have wars and terror, H1N1 and recession, joblessness and division. And isn’t that Tiger Woods thing just awful? We sing Joy to the World and we put up our trees and our lights, but this year Christmas just doesn’t seem the same as before. The only thing that does stay the same is the way that Christmas is less and less about Christ and more and more about us and our stuff.
Zephaniah had it much the same way. He lived in the Northern kingdom of Judah during the time just before the Assyrians wiped it out and carried the people off to slavery. His gripe was that the people had lost sight of their religious traditions and were worshipping foreign gods. They were worshipping idols and animals and kings, just like we worship money and cars and ipods. They were not faithful to their God and sure enough bad things were in store for them unless they turned back to him.
The more things change the more they stay the same, don’t they?
But Zephaniah is also the one who told the people to shout for joy, be glad and exult. He starts out with a message of destruction, gloom and doom, and ends with a message of hope. His good news is that no matter how unfaithful we are, God is always faithful to us. No matter how bad things seem, we should always rejoice that our God is here for us. God never changes, but we need to.
John the Baptist also preached a message of change. The people who were coming to John were not the most well-liked people in society. They were some of the most hated: tax collectors and Roman soldiers. They were also some of the most feared. These were people who made their living taking advantage of their neighbors. They heard John’s message of repentance and wanted to know what they had to do to turn their lives around. And John didn’t ask them to do anything drastic. He told them to start with the simple things like treating people fairly and being content with their lives. John focused not on the woes of society but on individuals in relationships. If we get our everyday relationships right, everything else will fall into place.
John wanted his disciples not to just feel bad for their actions and just change their behavior for a while. John preached a baptism of conversion. Conversion means a change of perspective, an altering of one’s direction or changing one’s allegiance, or a turning around. And it is not a temporary thing. It’s permanent. We need conversion to prepare ourselves for our most important relationship. The good news John preaches is that the ultimate cause for rejoicing is coming, is already here among us.
St. Paul suffered more for the good news than anyone else in his time. And yet he too tells us to rejoice. His message is the same as John’s. Be kind to all, have no anxiety and trust that the Lord will take care of you. Joy comes from an absence of anxiety. If you have joy you will be kind, because kindness is a direct result of joy. And being kind will also bring you joy.
Have no anxiety at all, but ask and receive all you need from God. We have a lot of anxiety in our lives these days. We’re losing jobs and homes and possessions, and we’re having to cut back a lot on what we usually do and buy during this season. Many of us are having to take stock in our lives and evaluate exactly what is and isn’t important. And all of this causes anxiety, not joy. It’s hard to simply trust. It’s hard to see beyond our current situation and have hope in the promises of Christ.
What must we do?
What would John the Baptist, and St. Paul, and Zephaniah say to us if they were living today? How would their message of hope be translated to the modern world? I don’t think it would change much, because human nature has not changed much since their time. Treat others well in our everyday situations. Keep it simple. Focus on our relationships, especially on those in our lives who are hurting. Be content with what we have. Remember what Christmas is truly all about. The over-commercialization of Christmas has taught us to never be content. Enough is never enough, nor is it good enough. Ask and receive all we need from God. Trust him. And rejoice that there is hope. Hope in our Savior whose coming we patiently await.
Year C
Shout for Joy, O daughter Zion! Sing Joyfully, O Israel! Be Glad and Exult, with all your heart!
Not much to rejoice about these days, is there? Things aren’t going so well, it seems. We have wars and terror, H1N1 and recession, joblessness and division. And isn’t that Tiger Woods thing just awful? We sing Joy to the World and we put up our trees and our lights, but this year Christmas just doesn’t seem the same as before. The only thing that does stay the same is the way that Christmas is less and less about Christ and more and more about us and our stuff.
Zephaniah had it much the same way. He lived in the Northern kingdom of Judah during the time just before the Assyrians wiped it out and carried the people off to slavery. His gripe was that the people had lost sight of their religious traditions and were worshipping foreign gods. They were worshipping idols and animals and kings, just like we worship money and cars and ipods. They were not faithful to their God and sure enough bad things were in store for them unless they turned back to him.
The more things change the more they stay the same, don’t they?
But Zephaniah is also the one who told the people to shout for joy, be glad and exult. He starts out with a message of destruction, gloom and doom, and ends with a message of hope. His good news is that no matter how unfaithful we are, God is always faithful to us. No matter how bad things seem, we should always rejoice that our God is here for us. God never changes, but we need to.
John the Baptist also preached a message of change. The people who were coming to John were not the most well-liked people in society. They were some of the most hated: tax collectors and Roman soldiers. They were also some of the most feared. These were people who made their living taking advantage of their neighbors. They heard John’s message of repentance and wanted to know what they had to do to turn their lives around. And John didn’t ask them to do anything drastic. He told them to start with the simple things like treating people fairly and being content with their lives. John focused not on the woes of society but on individuals in relationships. If we get our everyday relationships right, everything else will fall into place.
John wanted his disciples not to just feel bad for their actions and just change their behavior for a while. John preached a baptism of conversion. Conversion means a change of perspective, an altering of one’s direction or changing one’s allegiance, or a turning around. And it is not a temporary thing. It’s permanent. We need conversion to prepare ourselves for our most important relationship. The good news John preaches is that the ultimate cause for rejoicing is coming, is already here among us.
St. Paul suffered more for the good news than anyone else in his time. And yet he too tells us to rejoice. His message is the same as John’s. Be kind to all, have no anxiety and trust that the Lord will take care of you. Joy comes from an absence of anxiety. If you have joy you will be kind, because kindness is a direct result of joy. And being kind will also bring you joy.
Have no anxiety at all, but ask and receive all you need from God. We have a lot of anxiety in our lives these days. We’re losing jobs and homes and possessions, and we’re having to cut back a lot on what we usually do and buy during this season. Many of us are having to take stock in our lives and evaluate exactly what is and isn’t important. And all of this causes anxiety, not joy. It’s hard to simply trust. It’s hard to see beyond our current situation and have hope in the promises of Christ.
What must we do?
What would John the Baptist, and St. Paul, and Zephaniah say to us if they were living today? How would their message of hope be translated to the modern world? I don’t think it would change much, because human nature has not changed much since their time. Treat others well in our everyday situations. Keep it simple. Focus on our relationships, especially on those in our lives who are hurting. Be content with what we have. Remember what Christmas is truly all about. The over-commercialization of Christmas has taught us to never be content. Enough is never enough, nor is it good enough. Ask and receive all we need from God. Trust him. And rejoice that there is hope. Hope in our Savior whose coming we patiently await.
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