Behold!

2^nd Sunday in Ordinary Time   

Behold the Lamb of God

Last week we celebrated the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord, where we heard Matthew’s account of Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan. If you recall, I spoke to you about what happened after Jesus’ baptism, of how he was so invaded by the Holy Spirit that he was driven out into the world to fulfill his mission. Today we hear from St. John what happened next.

John does not say that Jesus was baptized. All we hear today is that Jesus was walking along the banks of the Jordan and John saw him and exclaimed, “Behold the Lamb of God!” That’s a curious statement, isn’t it? Why didn’t John say something like, “Hey, there’s my cousin Jesus! Look everybody, that’s the one I’ve been telling you about. He’s the messiah you’ve been waiting for!” Instead, John uses some strange reference to the Lamb of God.

But John’s disciples knew exactly what he was talking about. They had an image and understanding of who the Lamb of God is just as we do today. We hear constant references to the Lamb of God during every Mass; we know that it refers to the role of Jesus as the sacrificial lamb who died on the cross to take away our sins, but to the Jews of Jesus’ day the Lamb of God meant something different.

We think of lambs as being submissive creatures who are easily led about. We even use the term derisively. Don’t be a sheep, don’t follow blindly, think for yourself. Sheep are weak, sheep are docile, sheep are creatures to be used by the strong. But to the Jews, the Lamb of God was someone strong. Their image of the Lamb of God went back to the prophet Isaiah, who prophesized about the coming messiah, “Though he was harshly treated, he submitted and opened not his mouth; Like a lamb led to the slaughter or a sheep before the shearers, he was silent and opened not his mouth.”

To the Jews, the silent strength of the Lamb was to overcome the evil of the world. Even though the Lamb had the ability to overpower the kingdoms of the world he would choose not to. Instead, he would meekly submit to the will of his father and his death would be the vehicle used to bring salvation to the world.

Another image the Jews had of the Lamb of God was that of a powerful liberator. During the third century BC, the Jewish liberator Judas Maccabeus, Judas the Hammer, led a rebellion against the Greeks that established the free rule in Judea for over a hundred years. Judas’ symbol was the lamb and he was called the Lamb of God. These two references, in Isaiah and in Maccabees, were to a strong leader who would free Israel from oppression and restore her to her rightful place among the nations. To John’s disciples, the Lamb of God meant the messiah. This lamb is not a docile victim. This lamb is a hammer. This lamb is an active victim.

The role of the lamb was central to Jewish worship and their understanding of their relationship with God. Lambs were used as the primary sacrifice to God in the temple. But not just any lamb. It had to be a pure white lamb, unblemished, with no spot or imperfection, preferably the first born. The lamb had to be given and sacrificed with no reservation; you had to give it willingly and not under duress.

The lamb was slaughtered on the altar of the temple and its blood was collected into bowls, to be sprinkled on the altar and on the people as a sign that their sins were forgiven.  The symbolism of the lamb’s blood was very powerful. The life force of the lamb was in its blood, and when that blood was poured out and sprinkled on the people they shared in its power.

Can you see how John the Evangelist and Jesus’ disciples would view the image of Jesus as the Lamb of God? They would look back at Jesus’ life, teachings, and actions and see so many signs pointing to the Lamb of God. Jesus was the first born son, without blemish, perfect, who willingly gave himself up to be sacrificed for the people’s sins on the cross. St. John even places the time of Jesus’ death on the day before the Passover at the hour when all the lambs were slaughtered in the temple. Jesus blood was shed on the cross in sight of the temple and sprinkled on all mankind for the forgiveness of sins.

The Lamb entered Christian tradition not bleating but roaring. The author of the Book of Revelation uses the term in reference to Christ twenty-nine times in twenty-two chapters. We shall speak of Jesus as the Lamb five times in today's Liturgy. See if you can spot each one. Recall the number of canvases, frescoes, stained glass windows, and vestments on which you have seen the Lamb drawn. It is among the most popular symbols in Christendom. 

And the images of shedding blood and baptism are so closely linked in the scriptures and in the life of the church. Jesus himself exclaimed to his disciples when they asked him for positions of honor in the kingdom of heaven, "You don't know what you are asking. Can you drink the cup I drink or be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with?" St. Paul told the Romans, “Don’t you know that when you were baptized you were baptized into his death?” Dying to self and sin is what baptism is all about. Can you see how and why John the Baptist would call Jesus the Lamb of God at the time of his baptism?

Immediately following this passage from John’s gospel is the calling of Jesus’ first disciples. You could say that John the Baptist was one of the first disciples himself. He himself had been searching for the messiah and had been having a hard time identifying him. When John finally received his sign from heaven that Jesus was the one, the first thing he did was point Jesus out to his own disciples, and told them to follow him instead.

John was a man searching for the messiah and when he found him, he gave him away to others. He was not in it for himself but told his disciples to leave him to follow Jesus. John knew that Jesus had to increase and he had to fade away. As soon as John gave away all his disciples to Jesus he was arrested, imprisoned and then killed. That was John’s role in the plan of salvation, and in a way, it is our role also. We may not be called to suffer as John did, but we too must die to self and give Jesus away to others.

How many times are you the herald of Jesus to others who are desperately searching for Him?

How many times have you been searching in the wilderness for God and found him only when someone else pointed him out to you?

How many times do you ask for something from God and don’t recognize that your prayers have been answered until someone else points it out to you?

And when you find Jesus, do you hoard him or do you give him away like John did?

Have you found your own personal Jesus and want to keep him to yourself? Jesus is just too big for us to keep all to ourselves.

Can you see Jesus in others, especially in those who suffer?

How many times have you seen someone poor and downtrodden and exclaimed, “Behold the Lamb of God!”

John’s disciples probably took a look at Jesus and said, him? They followed Jesus because they trusted John. How many times have people trusted God because of you and your discipleship?

Now I have seen and testified that he is the Son of God. Have you?

Silent Night

Christmas Eve

Cycle A

Why do we hate the silence so much? Why do we fear it so?

I only paused for 30 seconds or so just now, and you could feel the discomfort move throughout the room. The shifting in your seats, the breaking of eye contact. How many of you were thinking to yourself something along the lines of, “What the heck is he doing? Did he forget his notes? Why doesn’t he get on with it, I have 8:30 dinner reservations!” It was very difficult for me to pause and look at you for so long, too, even though it was only half a minute. I was uncomfortable, too.

We have to fill our lives with noise, don’t we? We have to be constantly stimulated. We’ve been preparing for this night since Halloween, and we still have so much more to do. But not tonight. Tonight, embrace the silence.

The joy can only be found in the silence.

Silent night, holy night. Christmas happens at night, in the peace and quiet of the night. Mary and Joseph had had a hectic few days themselves, moving throughout the crowds of Bethlehem looking for a place to stay. But Jesus was born in the quiet of the night, off away from the crowds and distractions.

Be still. Be quiet in the night and contemplate the Christ child.

Like many of you, I have been annoyed this year that among the constant barrage of Christmas carols on the radio there have been virtually no true Christmas carols. You know, the ones that actually mention Jesus. They’re all about white Christmases and sleigh bells and grandma getting run over by reindeer. None of the beautiful, peaceful and joyous songs that talk about silent night, holy night, joy to the world, and come, let us adore him.

But then it hit me that that’s ok, because for us, Christmas shouldn’t begin until tonight. All that other stuff that barrages us from October through today is for the world and its vision of Christmas. You know that all those carols will be gone from the airwaves after tomorrow and will not be heard again for another year. On to New Years!

For us, the Christmas season starts tonight and continues through the twelve days of Christmas to the Feast of the Epiphany and then to the Baptism of the Lord on January 12. You know that the idea that the Christmas season begins before Christmas Eve is only a couple generations old. Our parents often didn’t put up the tree and decorations until Christmas Eve and then left them up until the Epiphany. For us, the season of preparation is Advent, and Advent is a time of peaceful, quiet expectation. How many of us have taken advantage of that time to create an island of peace in our hectic worlds?

So, it’s ok that we have not been hearing any religious themed carols until tonight, because that’s when we should be hearing them. Let the world have its silly Santa songs; we have the joy of Christ tonight. Santa is perfect for the secular world, with his frenetic running around to every house in the world all in one night. A perfect metaphor for what some of us have been doing every day since Black Friday. And we have the image of poor old Santa collapsing into his easy chair at dawn Christmas day, exhausted from the pace. Is that you?

That shouldn’t be us. The Christ child is not frenetic and rushed. Jesus is peaceful. Imagine how quiet it was in that stable 2000 years ago. Imagine what Mary and Joseph were thinking and feeling. Look at the crèche before us. The image we have of Mary and Joseph is one of quiet contemplation of the Christ child. They must have been overwhelmed by the wonder of what was before them. They were in the presence of God, and it must have been awesome. I can’t imagine them chattering away with the shepherds. All who came into Jesus’ presence must have been moved to holy silence.

Why do we fear the silence? Is it because we are afraid of what we will hear? Are we afraid to be confronted by God in the silence? Because that’s where He is found, not in the hustle and bustle but in the quiet of the night. Jesus is not found in shopping malls full of wreaths and ornaments and blinking lights. Jesus is found in the silent darkness of our hearts. Are we afraid that if we stop and get off the treadmill for a moment we will be forced to take a look at who we really are and recognize why we need a Savior in the first place? Do we try to fill our lives with sound and movement because we can’t bear to hear and see ourselves as we truly are?

Do not be afraid of the silence. Jesus came in the silence because he knows what’s in your heart. He knows everything about you and he loves you anyway. Even more than you love yourself. You are the very reason he was born in that poor stable so long ago. Just as Mary, Joseph and the shepherds were silently contemplating Jesus, Jesus was quieting contemplating you. Just you. He knew who you were going to be and who you would become and that’s why he was born. For you.

Embrace the silence tonight. Go out into the snowy darkness and stare up at the sky and just become part of it. Try to clear your mind of all the things you think you have to do that are so important and remember once again what is truly important. You know what it’s all about. You know how to refocus yourself on the true meaning of Christmas, or you wouldn’t be here tonight.

Then take advantage of the next 12 days, the true season of Christmastime. The world will have forgotten about Christmas by Thursday. Not us. Keep those religious carols playing on your iPod. Take some time from playing with the presents you’ll receive tomorrow morning to just be quiet and contemplate the wonderful gift you have been given tonight.

Find Christmas in the silence of night. Every night.

Funeral for a Friend

Jim Gonsalves Eulogy

It is very fitting that we are gathered here tonight in St. Mary’s church to celebrate and remember the life of Jim Gonsalves. This church and this parish were so much a part of his life, and it was here that most people were affected by his self-deprecating humor, his smile, and his patient optimism. It was through the parish that most of us met and knew Jim, and that is how I met him in 1996.

Jim and I had a lot in common. Jim was a pilot and loved to fly…though he never took me because I get motion sickness. He loved to golf… but in 17 years we never played a round because I struggle to break 100. He loved to ski…but we never skied together, because he went places I couldn’t go. He loved to go out on Lake Powell in his boat…but I was never invited. Hmm, maybe we didn’t have so much in common after all. Why did he ask me to do this eulogy again?

Well, we were both entrepreneurs. He owned a wood molding mill and had a lot of cool tools, and I have been a woodworker since I was 16. We both loved the mountains and the beach. We both had young children about the same ages. And we both had great hair. His was more perfect than mine, and the only time I ever saw a single hair of his out of place was last week in the hospital. Even then, he was upset that he wouldn’t be able to make his appointment with his stylist.

When I started my own woodworking business ten years ago, my shop was only a couple miles from his mill, and we would get together for lunch every week or so at the Rio Grande restaurant downtown. Jim loved Mexican food, and as you know, he was a creature of habit and routine. We always sat in the same seats at the counter and were served by the same waitress every time. It soon got to the point where as soon as he sat down, a Coke with a lime would appear at his hand. That was until he switched to Diet Coke and threw everything off. And he always ordered the same thing. We would sit there and talk about our businesses, our families, and our faith.

It was during that time that I was going through formation for the diaconate, and he had lots of questions and gave me lots of answers. When I moved my shop to Oakley the lunches became fewer and fewer, and for awhile we would only see each other at parish events or talk on the phone.

The Mass meant everything to Jim. When he and Tammy arrived here, this church was in the process of being built, and they jumped right into the planning of the dedication celebration. I think that that celebration did more to unite this parish than anything before or since, and brought a lot of us closer to one another into lifelong friendships. Once this church was open, Father Bob instituted the 5:30 Mass Sunday night as the skiers’ Mass, so that folks could ski all day and still get to Mass, often without changing out of their ski suits and boots.

I don’t remember exactly when it happened, but sometime soon after that Jim suggested that we make that Mass the youth Mass instead, since many of those attending it were teenagers with their parents. Jim had been in music ministry for most of his life, and he had seen what the Life Teen program had done for parishes in Arizona, so he went there to get trained in their methods. He came back and adapted those methods to the personality of St. Mary’s, and over the years that youth choir and Mass has been a main reason people from all over the world feel welcome here.

Most of us have attended those Masses and seen how good they are, but we never saw what it took to put them on. Jim would spend hours during the week choosing the music and arrangements, printing up music sheets, and organizing the kids in the choir. Jim and Tammy and later on Jim and Tracy would arrive every Sunday around 3 o’clock to begin setting up. I often wondered why they always arrived so early; surely it didn’t take two hours to plug in some mics and amps. It was only after listening to my daughter Kimberly tell me what went on during the rehearsals that it dawned on me why Jim insisted on taking that extra time. It wasn’t to set up the equipment, it was to spend time with the kids.

The kids were what were important to Jim. He literally considered them to be his own. He had a love for youth ministry, and I envied his affinity for it. This wasn’t a choir to Jim, it was an extension of his family. He took an active interest in their lives. Each and every one of those young people who have served in this choir are better people, and better Christians because of it and because of Jim.

Jim would always be on the lookout for new kids to add to the choir. It didn’t matter if they had a lot of talent, only that they were willing. He would slowly get them more and more involved in things, encouraging Kimberly, or Allie, or Gracie or Bridget or Lance to get up in front of hundreds of people and cantor or play. I know that each one of them realizes the influence Jim has had on their lives. It was very moving to see so many past members singing with the choir last Sunday night in his honor.

There are many, many other families in this parish who have been affected by Jim and his commitment to our youth. One man who had really only seen Jim at Mass every week came to his bedside in the hospital last week and tearfully told Jim that he had been helping him raise his two young boys to be good, strong Christian men and fathers someday, without even knowing it. He said that the seeds of faith had been planted in his sons, and that some day they would remember Jim. I saw a small tear run down Jim’s cheek when he said this.

Several other people came up to me after Mass last weekend to say the same thing. Jim realized that people were watching him and that his illness was affecting them, too. He told me that the past few months when it became difficult or impossible for him to sing, he would sit there in the front of the choir and mouth the words so that people wouldn’t see that he was declining. For Jim it wasn’t maintaining a front, it was a witness to others on how to live, even when you’re dying.

As his illness progressed he seemed to be more aware of what other people were feeling, especially when they were hurting. Every once in awhile he’d call me and ask if I were ok because he had seen something in my eyes or heard something in my voice that told him something might be wrong. Or he’d call me asking about someone in the parish who he had heard was having trouble.

Jim was always thinking about his children. One of the first things he did after he and Tracy married was to adopt Carolyn and treat her truly as his daughter. And no matter how complicated his relationship with his children became at times, I think all three of them saw Jim for who he really was during his illness and especially during his last few days.

And it wasn’t just his relationships with his children. People have always been amazed at the relationship he had with his first wife, Tammy, and her husband, Travis. Divorce is always painful, and most people do not maintain cordial relationships with their exes, but all I know is that Tammy was there at the hospital every day from morning to night last week, praying and telling stories with everyone else. That is a greater tribute to Jim’s character, and Tammy’s, than any I could make. And Travis, I know that you know that he told me that if his children ever had a stepdad, he’d want it to be you.

Tracy, Tammy told you that you have been a true warrior these past few years, and you have been. Jim used to tell Carolyn that it was good that people stared at Tracy carrying him on her back in and out of restaurants and stores, because it showed them what those words, “for better or worse, in sickness and in health” truly meant.  No one expects to have to live those words of fidelity so early on in a marriage. No one but your family knows what you have had to endure in caring for Jim all this time, the dark sleepless nights and long grueling days. Now you are being called to endure the pain of missing him and being faithful to his memory. Remember that your friends and family are here for you.

I often say at funerals that if someone lives well he will die well. Jim did both. He was both a realist and an optimist. He knew what the outcome of his illness would be but he was always hopeful for the future. Just last week he was telling me about the plans he had for the mill for the next two years. He would gladly tell you about the latest prognosis but never complained about it or about the hand he had been dealt. It was what it was.

Jim was not one to pray too much publicly; music was his prayer. He sang and hummed Amazing Grace over and over to himself. The version with My Chains Are Gone. Even though he could not speak during his last three days, he was a master of communicating with his eyes. He was ready. He did not give up, but he knew it was time to go. And so we played that song to him in the hospital, the song that was his prayer:

My chains are gone

I've been set free

My God, my Savior has ransomed me

And like a flood His mercy reigns

Unending love, amazing grace

Thank you , my friend.