Sneaky Thief

1^st Sunday of Advent

Cycle A

Happy New Year!

Here we are again at the beginning of a new liturgical year, and, as always, it lands smack dab in the middle of the early Christmas rush. We’ve all been putting our gift lists together and decorating our homes and writing Christmas cards, and some of us actually woke up at ungodly hours to be the first to take advantage of the after Thanksgiving sales. We’re all getting into the Christmas spirit, we come here to the church decorated so beautifully for the season of advent, and the first thing we hear about in the readings is…the end of the world.

What a bummer! What is the Church trying to do, ruin it all for us? We’re preparing for the coming of Christ at Christmas, full of joy to the world and all that. Shouldn’t we be hearing about angels and mangers and wise men?

For the church, preparing for the coming of Christ at Christmas is exactly that. The true meaning of Christmas is not getting the “Christmas Spirit” by remembering something that happened long ago in Bethlehem. The true meaning of Christmas is the promise Jesus left us. The promise that he would not leave us alone, that he would come again in glory. That’s Joy to the World.

Early Christians didn’t celebrate Jesus’ birth. To them, the defining events of Jesus’ life were his death and resurrection. Only two of the gospels have any mention of Jesus’ birth, but they all have detailed accounts of his passion, death and resurrection. They took Jesus’ words to heart that some of them would not taste death before all these things came to pass. They thought Christ’s coming again was imminent. That’s where the glory was, not in a dirty manger surrounded by animals and shepherds. That’s where the promise was. In the coming.

The church teaches that there are three comings of Christ. The first is the actual incarnation in the person of Jesus of Nazareth 2000 years ago. The second is the final judgment, when Christ will come in all his glory to judge the living and the dead. The third is… today. That’s the coming that most affects us. We weren’t there 2000 years ago to witness the first coming, and we have no idea when he will come again in glory, nor can we control it. The only thing we can control is our acceptance of Jesus’ coming into our lives today.

If we take care of Christ’s third coming, the second coming will take care of itself. It is through the third coming that we are prepared for the second.

One will be taken; the other will be left behind. How many times have we and a friend been at an event, or heard a homily or listened to a talk, or read a book or an article, and one of us gets it and the other one doesn’t? Many times our understanding of these things is due to our openness to their message, or our level of commitment to it, or our level of knowledge about the subject. It’s the same with Jesus’ message. We are all here this morning celebrating together, hearing the same scriptures and saying the same prayers. Who will be taken and who will be left behind? Which of us will acknowledge Jesus’ coming into our lives this day and which of us won’t? And which of us will use that knowledge to change our lives in preparation?

Lew Wallace was one of the most accomplished men of the 19^th century. A general in the civil war on the union side, highly decorated, one of the judges in the conspiracy trial of the Lincoln assassins, the governor of the New Mexico territory and the ambassador to Turkey. He was also, like many people, completely indifferent to religion. One day in 1876, on a train to Indianapolis, he struck up a conversation with Colonel Robert G. Ingersoll, the most accomplished and vocal atheist of his day. For two hours, Colonel Ingersoll regaled Wallace on the absolute certainty that there was no God, no heaven nor hell, and that all who thought there was were fools. He was very effective.

As Wallace puts it, “I sat spellbound, listening to a medley of argument, eloquence, wit, satire, audacity, irreverence, poetry, brilliant antithesis, and pungent excoriation of believers in God, Christ, and heaven, the like of which I had never heard. He surpassed himself, and that is saying a great deal.”

To a man completely indifferent to religion, such a strong argument could have convinced him that what Ingersoll was saying was indeed true. Wallace could have accepted the argument and gone on with his life as before, because it required nothing of him. Instead, Ingersoll put in Wallace’s heart a burning desire to learn more about his religion, to study what it really meant and to put down his findings in writing. Seven years later, he came out with what became the bestselling novel of the 19^th century, a book that has never gone out of print, was made into a play that ran on Broadway for 25 years, and that was made into three major motion pictures. As Wallace puts it, “I did as resolved, with results – first, the book, Ben Hur, and second, a conviction amounting to absolute belief in God and the divinity of Christ.”

Two men having a conversation. Jesus came into both their lives that day.

One was taken, the other left behind. Unexpectedly, on a train.

The Son of Man will come when you least expect him. When you don’t think he’ll show up. When you don’t want him to show up. When you think everything’s hunky dory and you don’t need him. When you don’t have time for him in your busy lives. He has a habit of just showing up, uninvited, at the weirdest times.

Many of us are like the master of the house in today’s gospel. If we knew when the thief would come we would not let him break into our house. Unfortunately, for many of us the thief is Jesus, and if we knew when he was going to enter the houses of our hearts we’d bar the door and refuse him entry. We know that if we allow him in we’ll be asked to change our lives, and we like things just the way they are. We like our orgies and promiscuity, our drunkenness and lust, our rivalries and jealousies. We like our swords just the way they are, thank you. God can keep his plowshares. That’s just a pipe dream anyway.

Ah, but thieves are wily, aren’t they? No matter how well you prepare, they seem to find a way in. You really can’t prevent it. In the opening prayer this morning we heard Father pray that we “run forth to meet Christ.” Jesus came to earth once. That’s a historical fact. He will come again whether you like it or not. That’s his promise. How you meet him is up to you. 

Happy Eucharist!

Sir 50:22-24

1 Cor 1:3-9

Lk 17:11-19

Happy Eucharist!

Why not “Happy Thanksgiving”? But that’s exactly what I just said, because the word Eucharist literally means “thanksgiving”. Did you know that? Wouldn’t it be great if every time we entered the church to celebrate the Mass we greeted each other by saying “Happy Thanksgiving”! Because that is what it is. The Mass is our greatest prayer of thanksgiving.

When Jesus offered himself up on the cross he did so in thanksgiving. The Last Supper was a memorial meal of thanksgiving. The Jews celebrate the Passover supper in thanksgiving for all that God has done for them throughout the centuries, especially when he rescued them from slavery in Egypt. Jesus was giving thanks to his Father for giving him his disciples and for giving him the opportunity to come down to earth to draw all people to him, and yes, even for the opportunity to die for us.

The Mass should be a happy event. It is a feast, just as much as our dinner later today will be a feast. Have you ever thought about the structure of the Mass? It’s the same as the banquet you are preparing today.

We prepare for this Mass long before we celebrate it, just as you have been getting ready for your dinner today for a long time. We greet each other at the door. We catch up on the latest goings on with each other. We enter the dining room and gather together around the table. We prepare ourselves spiritually by saying we’re sorry for anything we may have done to break our communion with each other since the last time we met, just like we apologize to Great Uncle Lou for getting in that fight over politics last Thanksgiving. We sit and hear stories about our family’s past and remember all who have gone before us in faith. Then we offer up prayers for our needs and the needs of others.

We get ready for the meal by bringing our gifts to the altar, because we’d never dream of going to someone’s house for dinner empty handed. We say grace, our prayers of thanksgiving over the gifts we have brought to the table. Those gifts are from God and from us. We don’t bring grapes and wheat, we bring bread and wine, having taken what God has given us and transformed it into something else.

We hear the most beautiful prayer of the Mass, the Eucharistic Prayer, the Thanksgiving Prayer, when God takes our transformed gifts and transforms them even more into his very self. Jesus has physically joined us at table. And those transformed gifts in turn transform us. We offer one final prayer of awe at the gift God has given us. “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.” No, we can never make ourselves worthy, but God wants us to be worthy to be with him forever.

Then we eat and drink. We acknowledge the gift by receiving the Body and Blood of Christ in communion with one another. We receive, we do not take. And we become the Body of Christ as we receive the Body of Christ.

Then we sit back for a bit and take it all in. We’re stuffed and couldn’t eat another bite. We clear the table and do the dishes. We announce when the next get together will be, and we say one final prayer and receive a blessing before we go out into the world once again, where we live the fruits of our thanksgiving.

We set aside a special day once a year to give thanks as a nation for all the blessings we have been given. We give thanks for the gift, but what about the giver? Who are we giving thanks to? If you look at all the decorations and all the advertising, you’d think we are giving thanks to the turkey, or the pilgrims, or something. You never see decorations giving thanks to God, do you. You rarely see or hear mention of God in any of the big celebrations being held across the country. There was no big Jesus balloon in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade this morning. Thanksgiving has become a completely secular holiday, all about food and football. It really should be called “Black Friday Eve” because that’s what all the focus seems to be on.

It wasn’t intended to be that way, and it isn’t that way for us. We don’t just remember our blessings, we remember the one who blesses us. When Abraham Lincoln issued his Thanksgiving Day Proclamation in 1863 he did it to recognize and celebrate all the wonderful things God had given to our country, even in the midst of the most terrible trial we have ever been put through. And he wanted to thank God for all that. That wonderful proclamation was actually a prayer.

“No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy. It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently and gratefully acknowledged as with one heart and one voice by the whole American People. I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens. And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him for such singular deliverances and blessings, they do also, with humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to His tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty Hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it as soon as may be consistent with the Divine purposes to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquility and Union.”

The way we give our greatest thanks to God is through the Eucharist, so it is entirely fitting that we gather here this morning to link the two celebrations together. What better way to show our national thanksgiving than through our greatest prayer of thanksgiving! So, Happy Eucharist! We are a Eucharistic people, and every day for us is Thanksgiving Day!

Jesus, Remember Me

Feast of Christ the King

Cycle C

How do you want to be remembered?

Many people worry about how they will be remembered. It’s a big deal to them. They pay millions of dollars to have their names inscribed on buildings, they set up foundations with their names attached so that the world will remember them as good benefactors, long after they’ve gone. They erect impressive tombstones that will last for centuries, their names carved deep into the granite. Is that how you want to be remembered?

Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.

We don’t want to be left behind. There’s a series of wildly popular books out, the “Left Behind” series, that deals with what may happen during the last days, when the world will be in turmoil before the second coming of the Lord. They have sold millions of copies in dozens of languages. Why are people so enthralled about what will happen during the last days? Why are we so worried about being left behind?

On this last Sunday of the liturgical year, we look forward to the coming of the kingdom. We utter our own hopes for life with Jesus, just like the good thief did on his cross.

But who remembered Jesus on that Good Friday?

Jesus was totally abandoned on the cross. The only person who believed in him was a murderer, a criminal who wasn’t even one of his followers. How did Jesus feel when someone, anyone, finally expressed some belief in him during those horrible last moments? It must have been almost as painful for Jesus to see his friends run away as it was to undergo such horrific torture. The people he had come to save had rejected him. His own best friends had abandoned him. Was his mission a failure? Was there any hope at all that the world could be saved?

Yet, a common criminal showed faith in Jesus. “Any chance you could put in a good word for me? Just in case?” Jesus’ own closest friends, James and John, had asked that they be placed one on his right hand and one on his left, in the kingdom. He didn’t give it to them. However, this loser has the audacity to ask for the same thing, and Jesus gives it to him. For whatever reason, whether he truly believed that Jesus was who he said he was or if he was just covering his bases, the good thief’s request gave Jesus the hope he needed.

“You will be with me in paradise. Yes, there is a paradise and we will soon be in it. There is hope, for both of us.” We end this year with a message of hope. Just as Jesus was given hope on the cross, we are given hope because of that cross.

Jesus saw that hope in the plea of someone who needed him, someone who was completely hopeless himself.  The good thief’s request got Jesus’ mind off his own sufferings. He could perform one last miracle. He could show mercy to someone who didn’t deserve it. He could offer salvation to one of the very people he had come to save. The thief got it. He got the message. Jesus’ mission on earth had not been a failure. And if someone who had not been one of his followers got it, there must be lots of other folks who got it, too. There really is a kingdom.

Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom.

This is the Feast of Christ the King. Yet, what a strange king we have. Kings have thrones. Jesus had a cross. Kings have crowns of gold. Jesus had a crown of thorns. Kings have a court of attendants to wait upon them. Jesus’ friends all ran away. Kings have rings of gold on their fingers. Jesus had nails driven into his hands. Kings receive accolades. Jesus was mocked by everyone, even by the guy hanging next to him.

We don’t do kings well in America. In fact, we fought a long war of independence to get rid of the yoke of kings. We chafe against anyone and anything that curtails our freedoms. But how do we see freedom? Is it just being able to do what we want without interference? That’s not freedom, that’s license.

Jesus is a different kind of king. He doesn’t take away our freedom, he gives it back to us. By humbling himself on that cross, Jesus showed us what real freedom is. Freedom in the kingdom of God is freedom from sin, freedom from the shackles of our own selfish humanity, freedom from death.

People in Jesus’ day understood what it meant to have a king. Everything they owned could be forfeit at his command. Their very lives were in his hands. At his whim they could be put to death. Signs of the emperor’s influence were everywhere, from the heavy taxes he levied against them to his ever-present legions of troops. To them, the emperor was the center of their lives, whether they liked it or not.

Who are our kings today? Around what does your life revolve?

Do we embrace the cross or just work ever harder for the comforts of this life? Do we resent our sufferings or enter into them, joining them with those of Jesus, to give them meaning? Many enter this season of Advent with feelings of hope and joy. But many others approach it with dread. For some it is a time of great loneliness. Perhaps they lost a spouse, or parent, or close friend this year and this will be the first Christmas without them. Maybe they’re out of work and fear they won’t be able to provide their family with even the basics of a Christmas celebration. Maybe they are very ill and realize this will probably be their last Christmas. They long for a sense of hope.

Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom.

Jesus understands these feelings. He understands loneliness, fear, and death. He experienced them. He conquered them. The message of today’s gospel is that no matter how hopeless things seem, we will not be forgotten. How could Jesus forget us? The same good shepherd who would leave the 99 sheep to find the lost one would never forget us. The same Lord who showed mercy to the good thief on his cross will show mercy to us as well.

We won’t be left behind.