Tenth Sunday of Ordinary Time – June 7/8, 2008
Dignity/NoVA & Dignity/Washington

Studying a language other than our first or native language certainly has its rewards, but it also has its challenges and potential pitfalls. One such pitfall that any student of another language quickly learns is that there are many words and phrases in one language that don’t translate perfectly into the other language. My Spanish isn’t all that good, but I do remember learning the concept of one pitfall that involves what linguists call “false cognates” – words in one language which look like and sound like a word in another language, but which actually have a totally different meaning. For example, the Spanish word, “embarazada” doesn’t mean “embarrassed” as it sounds to our English ear; it means pregnant.

Another pitfall in languages is a bit more nuanced. This is when one word in a given language has no real equivalent in another language. The word’s original meaning might be so broad and nuanced and multi-faceted, that there’s really no satisfactory equivalent in the other language. This is actually what I encountered earlier this week when I began to reflect on the scripture readings that we have before us for our liturgy tonight. When we look at those scriptures, it’s pretty clear that our focus and attention is being drawn to a phrase which we hear Jesus repeat in the Gospel from Matthew. After calling the tax collector Matthew to be one of his disciples, and then dining with Matthew, other tax collectors and others who would be considered outcasts or socially unacceptable people, Jesus admonishes the Pharisees to “Go and learn the meaning of the words, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’” Jesus is here quoting what we heard in our first reading when Hosea, presenting the words of Yahweh being spoken to the unfaithful Israelites, states, “For it is love that I desire, not sacrifice.” So … if we take Jesus’ challenge at face value … what IS the meaning of these words: “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.”

The “not sacrifice” part makes sense to me and is something that probably most of us are faithful to. After all, I suspect not many of us have burning altars in our back yards on which we offer up a pair of turtle doves or a young ram taken from our flocks. So the part about avoiding sacrifice or “burning holocausts” is not too difficult to put into practice.

But the “mercy” part was a bit more problematic for me. I had more trouble with this because of the way we define and use the word “mercy” in contemporary English. In our contemporary usage, “mercy” usually means something like “leniency” or not imposing as harsh a penalty as might be justified. We think of, for example …

• The Judge who is asked to “show mercy” before imposing sentence on the convicted criminal; or
• Perhaps a powerhouse sports team “shows mercy” on a weaker opponent by not defeating them as resoundingly as they could.

When understood this way, I don’t often find myself in situations where I can show mercy. Mercy is usually a one-way street; it’s something that one party – the dominant, active, “in control” party – is able to demonstrate to the other, less powerful party. If this is what Jesus and Hosea and Yahweh had in mind, then I didn’t see much application to my own life. It turns out, however, that this is not what they had in mind. As it turns out, “mercy” isn’t really the best translation of the original Hebrew word. That Hebrew word – hesed – is one of those very rich, very nuanced, very multi-faceted words that don’t lend themselves to easy or literal translation. I’m no Hebrew scholar, but in Hebrew the word is “hesed” is a simple word with complex meanings. Unlike “mercy” – which is suggestive of a very one-sided relationship – hesed can’t really be understood outside of the context of a reciprocal relationship, a relationship based on mutuality, reciprocity, give-and-take.

We see this, in fact, in the translation from Hosea … the translation we have uses the word “love” … but in other translations this same word, “hesed,” is translated as covenant love, loving kindness, steadfast love, loyal love, devotion, commitment, reliability or covenant loyalty. All of these words describe the relationship that God wishes to have with us, God’s People … and the type or relationship God wishes us to have with one another.
And so with this understanding of “hesed” as covenantal loyalty that is focused on a reciprocal relationship…. What does it mean for us … as individuals and as a community, when we hear God saying: “I desire not sacrifice – not mere outward signs of religious practice – but I desire covenantal loyalty”???

For one thing, being in this type of loyal, covenant relationship reminds us that we are part of something bigger than ourselves:

1. The presence of our national president and executive director here with us this evening remind us that we are not just this intimate community of NoVA or Washington, … but that we are connected to our brothers and sisters in the Dignity community around the country.
2. In our Eucharistic prayer when we speak the name of the pope and the local bishop, as well as leaders of other communities the world over, it reminds us that we are part of a Church community that reaches the corners of the earth—even if, and perhaps especially if, those same Church leaders are “uncomfortable” with our presence.
3. When we have a visible presence in events such as Gay Pride, it reminds us that we are called to be actively engaged in the world around us, being faithful and proud of who we are as God’s LGBT Catholic children.

When I was having difficulty earlier this week grasping these scriptures, I went where most of us go these days when we’re trying to figure something out … Google! If you Google the phrase, “Mercy, not Sacrifice,” you’ll get, 21,700 search results. The absolute number one, first result in that long list links to a posting on a Web site that describes itself as: “A Web Magazine for Christian Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender People.” In closing, I’d like to read what’s posted there as a reflection on these words from Hosea and Jesus – “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.”

“The Pharisees taught themselves that serving God was about performing rituals, sacrificing burnt offerings and keeping traditions. Jesus was saying that the Pharisees’ judgment of the tax collectors, sinners …ordinary people…was wrong.

‘Today is no different than back then. Many religious Christians and churches of all denominations have decided that being gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender is a sin and that we are, in effect, “sinners.” But Jesus is telling them that it is a SIN to view ANYONE with contempt and that the reign of God is about mercy, compassion and love for ALL God’s people. It is NOT about living a perfect life of sacrifice, but about people coming together and learning to love and accept one another other.” (http://epistle.us/articles/mercy.html)

Homily for the Fifth Sunday of Easter (April 19/20, 2008)
Dignity/NoVA and Dignity/Washington

Last week, in anticipation of the visit to the US of Pope Benedict XVI, our presider and homilist, Fr. Joe spoke to us very passionately about the voice that he – and, by extension, each one of us – has a right to claim as a child of God created fundamentally good, in the image of the divine. Not yet knowing what the forthcoming visit of the Pope would bring to the Church here in the US, not knowing what the visit might mean for us here in one of the two local Churches on the Papal itinerary, and not yet knowing what the Pope’s visit might mean for us as gay and lesbian Catholics, Joe lifted us up with his words that were rooted in faith, in confidence, and in hope. Despite the efforts of too many Church leaders in our own country and around the world to say that our voices and the voices of our experience as GLBT people have no place in conversations within the Church, Joe powerfully reminded us that the vision of what it means “to be church, to be God’s people” cannot be limited by those who have been called to a particular church office, or who hold a particular church ministry. Rather, each and every one of us – baptized as we are into the saving death and resurrection of Jesus Christ – has both the right and the responsibility to be continually formed by the Word of God, to be nourished by the Eucharistic presence of Christ, to exercise our ministry of the baptized as part of that “royal priesthood, a holy nation,” and to live out our faith as full members of the Catholic Christian community.

As the week unfolded, I suspect that many of us listened and watched the coverage with more than just passing interest as we got to know this man, Benedict XVI, more and more over these past several days. Not only was I interested in watching how the media covered this visit, but I also wanted to hear Benedict’s own words and read the texts of the Pope’s various homilies, commentaries and statements as he met with the bishops, with Catholic educators, with clergy and religious, or with representative at the United Nations.

The reason I wanted to be so attentive to the words of Benedict the XVI – as well as one of the reasons it was so good for us to hear Joe’s words in anticipation of his visit – was to see if there might be any difference between the words of Benedict XVI and the words of Joseph Ratzinger. As head of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, the words of Joseph Ratzinger – especially words spoken about God’s gay and lesbian children (and it was almost always “about,” rarely “to” and never “with”!) – were often so harsh. It was Joseph Ratzinger, after all, who spoke of homosexuality as having a tendency toward an “intrinsic moral evil” and that this inclination of the homosexual person is an “objective disorder.” It was Joseph Ratzinger who said that this “inclination” is “essentially self-indulgent,” and that committed gay unions are “pseudo” unions, and that the laws in societies which recognize civil unions or gay marriage are “gravely unjust” and that they should be opposed at every level. And, it was Joseph Ratzinger who said that men and women who raise children within the context of a same-sex relationship – no matter how loving or stable or committed that relationship might be – do “violence” to these children. Because we as gay and lesbian Catholics have been all-too familiar with these less-than-hopeful, less-than-helpful words from the past, I know that I at least was hoping and praying to catch a glimpse of something different during this current visit.

As the week went on, we may not have seen or heard an epiphany of something dramatically different about the Church’s understanding of the lived experience of faithful gay and lesbian people, but there were, to be sure, many good things that the Pope said.

• He spoke repeatedly about a fundamental element of the Catholic intellectual perspective, namely the unity of faith and reason and how these ways of knowing are in complementary service to the unity of the Truth.
• He spoke about academic freedom, and that in virtue of this freedom, educators, professors and researchers are “called to search for the truth wherever careful analysis of evidence leads.”
• He recognized the value of diversity and of diversity of thought, telling the religious and priests gathered in New York that we need “to open ourselves to points of view which may not necessarily conform to our own ideas or assumptions. Thus we can value the perspectives of others, be they younger or older than ourselves, and ultimately hear ‘what the Spirit is saying’ to us and to the Church (cf. Rev 2:7).”
• He even spoke of the human limitations that all of us are subject to, recognizing that the “splendor of the Church” is sometimes “obscured by the sins and weaknesses of her members,” and even stating publicly that our own bishops often badly handled the painful situations in which minors were sexually and spiritually abused by clergy.

More important than anything he said, however, is the significance of one thing he did. I have no doubt that what will be remembered as the defining event of this trip was Benedict’s private meeting with victims of clergy sexual abuse after the public Mass here in Washington. These men and women – all from my own home archdiocese of Boston – had the opportunity to speak with the Pope and to receive from him directly and personally his own “mea culpa” on behalf of the entire Church.

As he stated repeatedly, the main theme of Benedict’s trip to the US was, “Christ our Hope.” In his statement before leaving Rome earlier this week, Benedict said that, “With the various groups I shall meet, my intention is to share our Lord’s word of life. In Christ is our hope! Christ is the foundation of our hope for peace, for justice, and for the freedom that flows from God’s law fulfilled in His commandment to love one another”.

With that in mind, let me share with you the words of the Czech writer, dramatist, and also the first President of the Czech Republic. On the topic of “hope,” Vaclev Havel wrote the following:

“Hope is an orientation of the spirit,
an orientation of the heart.
It is not the conviction that something
will turn out well,
but the certainty that something makes sense,
regardless of how it turns out.”

As GLBT Catholics, we still don’t know “how things will turn out” under this or any future papacy. But we do know in the depths of our spirits and in the recesses of our hearts that we ARE God’s beloved children; we do know that we ARE sons and daughters of a God who has created us in the image of the divine. We do know that we ARE sisters and brothers of Jesus who not only strengthens us on this our earthly pilgrimage, but who has gone before us and even now is preparing an eternal dwelling place for his faithful disciples. As people of faith and hope, there is nothing that makes more sense to us than this. Let us, therefore, truly embrace the words of Jesus, words that we hear him speak to his disciples during the “farewell discourse” of today’s reading from John’s Gospel. “Do not let your hearts be troubled… have faith in me… for I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life.”

Just one more example of the moral and ethical bankruptcy of George W. Bush as a person and a president.

This paragraph says it all:

“When the OMB’s Susan E. Dudley urged the EPA to consider the effects of cutting ozone further on ‘economic values and on personal comfort and well-being,’ the EPA’s Marcus Peacock responded in a March 7 memo: ‘EPA is not aware of any information that ozone has beneficial effects on economic values or on personal comfort and well being.'”

A new and comprehensive report from the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life provides sobering information for leaders of U.S. religious communities. In particular, there is much in the U.S. Religious Landscape Survey (2008) that U.S. Catholic bishops should take heed of. But if they read only one point, it’s this:

“While those Americans who are unaffiliated with any particular religion have seen the greatest growth in numbers as a result of changes in affiliation, Catholicism has experienced the greatest net losses as a result of affiliation changes. While nearly one-in-three Americans (31%) were raised in the Catholic faith, today fewer than one-in-four (24%) describe themselves as Catholic.”

Then, the bishops should do what any smart, intelligent leaders do: Ask those most likely to know what explains this exodus and what should be done about it.

See the full report online.

I am not a huge HGTV fan, although someone that I spend a lot of time with is. And so I’m familiar, as I’m sure many of you are, with the types of shows that HGTV produces and broadcasts. You probably know many of the shows on that network have a similar premise or structure. Shows like “Designed to Sell” and “Color Correction” and “Desperate Spaces” and many others … these all start out with a home or a part of a home that is in need of significant help. Even those of us who didn’t get a very strong “sense of style” in our genes can tell that the places selected for the program are in great need. And so, throughout the course of the next thirty minutes … we see what was outwardly drab, dull or even ugly become updated, modernized, vibrant, visually appealing and sometimes even beautiful.

These types of programs … are really about transformation, of being changed and transformed from what they previously were into something quite different. In a similar way, today we have Matthew’s version of a gospel story which is commonly referred to as “The Transfiguration” – based on the word metamorphothe – from which we get the word “metamorphosis.” Just as we heard last week about the Temptations of Jesus – a story we hear on the First Sunday of Lent every year – this story of the Transfiguration is one that we hear every year on this, the Second Sunday of Lent.

This passage from Matthew comes a little more than halfway through Matthew’s Gospel. The disciples and followers of Jesus have been getting to know who he is more and more. They have heard him preach – especially with his wonderful parables that teach about God and the reign of God. They have been witness to an amazing power in him as he has performed miracles … including wonderful healings of the sick and others in great need. And in the passage just before this story of the Transfiguration, Matthew tells us about the first time that Jesus speaks of his death. This first “passion prediction” has Jesus telling his disciples that he will go Jerusalem, that he will suffer at the hands of the religious leaders, be tortured, and be put to death … but that on the third day be raised. Peter protests at this prediction … and Jesus sternly rebukes him, “Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does, but as humans do.” And then Jesus says to all of them … all who would be his disciples… that if they want to be a part of him and his work, “…you must deny your very self, take up your cross and follow me!”

And so this is the context in which Matthew sets the story we just heard. It’s now six days later and Jesus takes 3 of his closest disciples – including Peter whom he had so recently called Satan! – to the top of a high mountain. The fact that they are going up a high mountain is a clue to Matthew’s readers and to us 20 centuries later that something unusual is about to happen. Not only in the Judaeo-Christian heritage, but in the traditions of other peoples and religions as well, the “mountain” is very meaningful – at the very least, it is symbolically where the Divine and the Human meet – where Heaven touches Earth — and where Revelation takes place.

And so here, on top of this mountain that Matthew does not name, Peter, James and John see that – all of a sudden – Jesus is “transfigured before them.” Jesus face shines like the sun, his clothes are as white as light … and they see that he is not alone. Rather, he is standing with and conversing with two great figures from Jewish history — Moses and Elijah! Both Moses and Elijah had their own “mountain top experiences.” Symbolically speaking, each of these great figures represents different and complementary strands of Jewish life. It was on a mountain that Moses encountered the divine and returned with the Ten Commandments … and so Moses, the “Law Giver,” represents the institutional part of Jewish life that is devoted to the structuring of society and obeying the rule of God’s law. Elijah ….the one who climbed Mt. Horeb and experienced the Divine Presence not in the drama of an earthquake or great wind or dramatic fire … but rather in the stillness of a quiet, almost imperceptible breeze … Elijah represents the great tradition of the prophets, those men and women who – usually against their own will – faithfully followed God’s Call in speaking “Truth to Power,” challenging individual leaders, or practices, or even the entire community of their day when these same leaders or practices or communities were straying from the path of walking humbly with God.

And then, as if to rebuke Peter once again who starts talking about building tents to stay there … they hear a voice, the voice of the One whom Jesus elsewhere calls “Abba.” This voice makes a simple declaration and a simple command: Do you want to know who Jesus is? “This is my beloved son.” Do you want to know how you should relate to or respond to him? “Listen to him.” “This is my beloved son with whom I am well-pleased. Listen to him.” These words – “beloved son” – these are the very same words that are used when Abraham – about whom we read in the first reading – is called upon to sacrifice his son Isaac … “since you did not withhold from me your own beloved son.” With this heavenly, cosmic declaration, the vision ends … and the frightened disciples are left to be comforted by Jesus who tells them not to be afraid.

We call this story “The Transfiguration” … and by that, we mean the transfiguration of Jesus. But in reality, what the story depicts is not so much a transfiguration or transformation or metamorphosis of Jesus; in fact, what happens with Jesus is essentially a more complete Revelation of his identity, of who he is and already was. Jesus is revealed in as clear a way as possible as one who is the “fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets.” The REAL Transfiguration and Transformation – unlike the external transformation we see on an HGTV program – occurs within the hearts of these three disciples – Peter, James and John. This story of the transfiguration is as much about what happens to them as it is about Jesus. What happens to them is that they come to believe even more deeply that this One whom they have been following is more than just a do-gooder, more than just another prophet or someone shaking up the status quo – this One is the Real Deal – Jesus is the very presence of the Divine in the world.

And so what does this mean for us? It means, in part, that you and I ARE “Peter, James and John.” We, too, have been given the gift of seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, of knowing who Jesus is, of what lies ahead, and most importantly … of seeing a glimpse of what lies beyond the pain of Good Friday and the “hardships” of discipleship. And although we might be able to see with the eyes of faith some glimpse of what the future holds … we cannot escape the painful realities of the present. It is sometimes hard to be faithful to our communal Lenten challenge to “Be Open” to the voice of God who calls us to Listen to Jesus and be sources of compassion, peace, and truth in our world that is so very noisy and filled with violence and war, death and destruction; where the mighty and powerful seem always to have the upper hand over the vulnerable, weak, and the poor. And that’s the world out there. What are the hardships that you and I are called to bear in the concrete circumstances of our own personal and individual lives, perhaps hardships that no one else is even aware of? Are we struggling with a relationship that might not be all that we hoped it would be? A job we’re not happy with? Am I or someone I love facing illness or health challenges, not knowing what the outcome might be? As individuals and as a community – we are called to bear these hardships for the sake of the Gospel. We are challenged during this Lenten season with our practices of Prayer, Fasting, and Almsgiving – to “Be Open” to whatever ways in which our faith asks us to be Jesus’ beloved disciples who “bear our share of hardship for the Gospel with the strength that comes from God.”

“War may sometimes be a necessary evil. But no matter how necessary, it is always an evil, never a good.” – Jimmy Carter (December, 10, 2002; Nobel Lecture after receiving the 2002 Nobel Peace Prize, Oslo, Norway)

Fortunate Families has begun an education series entitled, “Let’s Talk About Homosexuality.” The eight week series may be found under Education Programs on their Web site. A presentation on a new topic in the series will be posted weekly. Although I have not yet had the chance to read this first week’s presentation, I am encouraged that there are groups like this that are doing concrete things to encourage diaglogue and conversation.

Perhaps the parents and other family members of gay and lesbian Catholics are in the ones in the best position to facilitate such a conversation. Popes and bishops often seem so entrenched in merely repeating the old “teachings” that do nothing but drive away faithful gay men and women; and gay Catholics often feel so very hurt and disillusioned by how they’ve been treated, they walk away from the closed Church door thinking, “things will never change, so why bother?!”

Perhaps gay people need to call upon our parents, sisters, brothers, and friends more so than we have in the past to be not only our quiet supporters who “love us as individuals,” but also our advocates in small ways and large.

The end of one calendar year and the beginning of another is always a time for reflection. For Christians, this comes during the middle of the Christmas Season (despite the fact that retailers and buisness page editors perpetuate the myth that Christmas is over on December 26). During this season, we celebrate the fundamental Christian belief that God became “one like us in all things but sin.” In and through Jesus of Nazareth, God the Creator knows even more intimately the heart, mind and soul of the human person.

Earlier this year, a wonderful organization called Fortunate Families posted responses they received from Catholic bishops around the country who replied to a letter asking the bishops to be in dialogue with gay and lesbian Catholics in their dioceses. Take a moment to read the response of “Bishop A” and thirteen other bishops who were gracious enough to reply. While some of these episcopal replies are less than hoped for, Fortunate Families should be applauded for keepeing the conversation alive. It’s my prayer that this conversation will continue in the New Year and beyond.

Christmas Eve – Mass at Night
Dignity/Northern Virginia (at Immanuel Church on the Hill, Arlington, VA)
December 24, 2007

Yesterday I was speaking with a friend who is traveling this Christmas, visiting family. He knew I would be standing here this evening and he asked how my preparation was going, if I had my homiletic thoughts together. I told him that I had a few “thematic ideas” in mind, but that I didn’t have a good story or illustration to open with … after all, a good homilist, a good preacher always has a good story to tell, right?

Well, he then asked me what the scripture readings were, and I told him briefly about the gospel passage we just heard – about this passage from Luke where Mary and Joseph have traveled to Bethlehem because of the Roman census, how there’s no room for them where travelers stay, how the birth of Jesus takes place where animals are kept, and how this good news is shared by an angel with shepherds in the surrounding area.

There was this brief pause … and then he simply said, “well, isn’t THAT the story?” Of course, he was right. THE story for us to focus on and to reflect upon this Christmas night IS indeed the story of the birth of Jesus.

And so it’s good that we are gathered here in the quiet and stillness of this place – this place whose very name – Immanuel / God with us – is so closely connected with the celebration of Christmas – to pause at the end of whatever holiday preparations we’ve been pre-occupied with these past weeks, and before whatever busy or not-so-busy day lies ahead of us tomorrow – it’s good for us to pause and reflect on what the story we just heard really is all about.

Yesterday I happened to catch part of a show on the History Channel that was about this very subject – trying to understand what Christmas is all about. It was followed by another show that chronicled some of the various ways in which Christmas has been celebrated socially and culturally here in the United States, but this first show’s focus was on the “Jesus of the Bible” and interviewed theologians and biblical historians who were discussing what we really know about the historical facts surrounding the birth of Jesus. Although there are certain discrepancies between the accounts presented by Matthew and Luke, and also some historical inaccuracies in their accounts about what actually happened over 2,000 years ago, we come here this evening not as students of history, but as people of faith who believe that this rather unremarkable event (it was, after all, simply the every-day occurrence of a birth of a child), in an out-of-the-way and quite unremarkable place, involving relatively simple and unremarkable people, at a time so far removed from our own ….yet somehow this event still has meaning for us here in our 21st century world.

One of the ways we can get at that meaning is to think about what we call this feast that we celebrate. Certainly it is called “Christmas” – but that word, which is rooted in Old and Middle English and which literally means “Christ’s mass” – doesn’t really tell us much, does it? As the Gospel reading we just heard spoke of a birth, the birth of Christ, we also call this the feast of the Nativity, and so that gives us a little bit more to go on. But the word that I think means the most and that I believe has the strongest implications for us a people of faith — is to speak of this celebration as the feast of the Incarnation. Christmas is the celebration of the coming of Christ, in time, into our world; it is the celebration of God becoming Incarnate – the “enfleshment” – of full divinity in full humanity. That, in itself, is almost incredible. Do we really believe and take to heart the fact that God – the Creator and source of all Being – chose to come among us, the created, to know our human life, to live and breathe walk and cry and love as one like us, like us who live and breathe and walk and cry and love? And if we do believe that, then does this belief cause us to live our lives in a way that is any different from how we would live if this event hadn’t taken place?

The second History Channel show I mentioned noted that one of the more recent developments in the way that Christmas is celebrated is with the practice of gift-giving. Without getting into the discussions about the over-commercialization of Christmas, I think there’s something about this practice that helps us embrace the deeper meaning of this day. In gift-giving, there are always two parties – the one who gives, and the one who receives.

In the Incarnation, God gifts us not with a new sweater or an in-edible fruitcake or a new 52” flat-screen HDTV – no, God gifts us with God’s very Self. That’s the “what” in this equation, but in the Incarnation, the “how” is just as important as the “What.” What are the circumstances of how this Gift of God’s very Self comes into our World? God does not come barging into the world or our lives with earthly power and might and force. God does not become Incarnate as one who can command armies or exert commercial or political power. On the contrary, the divine presence comes in a truly helpless human infant, a newborn child who is vulnerable and utterly dependent on others.

If Christ is both the Giver and the Gift of Christmas – then we, like anyone to whom a gift is offered, have a choice to make – and that choice is either to accept it or reject it. Acceptance or rejection — what will it be? Mary and Joseph were the first to whom this Gift of God’s very self was given. Mary accepted the gift into her very body and being; Joseph accepted the gift into his heart and home.

We come together this evening as individuals and as a community who know both what it means to be accepted and what it means to be rejected. Most of us have probably been met with varying degrees of acceptance or rejection from family and friends. In so many ways the wider Christian community and the political structures of our day reject us, not because of anything we’ve done, but simply because of who we are. Fortunately, there are places like this community and other “islands of acceptance” in our lives where we are able to experience the acceptance and love of God, a love and acceptance made flesh in one another.

If that gift of acceptance has been given to us, are we not also called to extend it to all others whom we can so easily turn away from and forget? Are we too, not called to bear the gift of Christmas to the poor, the outcast, the foreigner, the imprisoned, the despised?

Allow me to end with what I found to be a very poignant thought about Christmas by Thomas Merton – the famous Trappist monk. Merton once observed that Christ came into this world uninvited, and when he came into this world, there was no place for him, no room for him. And because, in a certain sense, Christ is “out of place” in this world… Christ’s “place is with those others for whom there is no room. His place is with those who do not belong, who are rejected by power because they are regarded as weak, those who are discredited, who are denied the status of persons, tortured, excommunicated. With those for whom there is no room, Christ is present in this world.”

Fourth Sunday of Advent – Cycle A
Saturday, December 22, 2007 – Dignity/Northern Virginia

I’m not much of a sports or baseball fan, but this evening’s celebration is the first part of what could be called a liturgical double-header. Not only will I have the pleasure of being with you again two nights from now for the Christmas Eve celebration of the Nativity, but by an unusual occurrence, the Gospel reading we have for tonight will be – in part – the Gospel passage we’ll hear once again on Monday evening. At our Vigil liturgy for Christmas Eve, we will hear an extended version of this passage from Matthew, a version which re-tells the genealogy of Jesus’ family tree, demonstrating that – at least according to the Law – Jesus is a descendant of David and therefore can be seen as fulfilling the prophecy about which Isaiah writes – that a “almah/virgin” will give birth to a child and that child will be called Immanuel – God with us.

This passage from the very first chapter of Matthew’s Gospel tells us part of the story of Jesus’ birth, but from a different perspective than the passages from Luke that we are so familiar with. Other than the angelic visitor, the only other character in this passage is Joseph, the young man who is described as Mary’s husband. Marriage customs were a bit different in the Jewish culture and society of that day – marriage would usually be arranged by the families involved and so Joseph is spoken of as engaged, or betrothed to the young girl, Mary. They were, in fact, “married” in every sense except for the fact that they did not yet live together.

We are told that it was Joseph’s intention quietly divorce Mary, so clearly he knows that she is pregnant, that she is expecting a child – and he also knows that the child is not his. We’re also told that he was an “upright man” – which would mean that he follows the Law. And the Law in this situation was pretty harsh. It would have said that he had the right not only to “divorce her,” to not complete the marriage contract by taking her into his home – but the law from Deuteronomy also said that she – Mary — should be brought to the entrance to her father’s house and stoned to death for bringing this disgrace not just upon her family, but on all of Israel.

And so, being the good guy that he is, Joseph doesn’t want this to happen to Mary, so it’s his intention simply to “divorce her quietly.” I don’t know what the population of Nazareth was at that time, but I have to wonder how easy it would be to do such a thing “quietly.” Family and neighbors all had to know that Mary and Joseph were betrothed, so I’m sure this would be the perfect stuff for gossip in the community. And, not only that, it would also be seen as quite scandalous in the wider community. Nonetheless, it is Joseph’s intention to divorce her and not to expose her publicly. This plan changes, however, when he has a dream – a dream in which an angelic visitor tells him, “do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife.”

You know, scholars tell us that the admonition – “Fear not!” or “Do not be afraid!” – this occurs countless times both the Hebrew and Christian scriptures. Even those of us who are not scripture scholars just need to take a few moments to think about so many of the passages that are familiar to us and we realize that this is correct:

• In Genesis, when Abraham is still Abram, God tells him to “fear not” before establishing a Covenant;
• In a vision, an angelic visitor told Daniel not once, but twice, “Do not fear” – the second time saying “Do not fear, greatly beloved. You are safe! Be strong and courageous.”
• The declaration to the husband of Elizabeth and father of John the Baptizer, says: “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard.”
• And of course, we are all familiar with the greeting of Gabriel, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.”
• At the birth of Jesus, an angel says to the shepherds near Bethlehem, “Do not be afraid, for see – I am bringing you news of great joy!”
• In Matthew’s account of the Transfiguration, Jesus tells his disciples who had heard a voice from heaven, “Get up and do not be afraid.”
• In Mark, we hear Jesus himself telling his disciples who have gone out fishing – they think he is a ghost on the water, but he tells them, “Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid.”

I suppose it’s reasonable to expect that such seemingly other-worldly encounters could engender a sense of fear and trepidation, and so it’s not unexpected that God or God’s emissary might offer a bit of consolation with these calming words. But even before the “divine encounter,” I wonder if these individuals – Abraham, Zechariah, Daniel, Mary, Jesus’ disciples, or the young Joseph from today’s reading – I wonder if there were other things that caused them to be afraid, to be anxious, to be worried about their lives or the situations in which they found themselves?
Let’s take the case of Joseph. We know very little about this young man, except that he was a descendant of David and that he was committed in marriage to the young girl, Mary. As most young people, he probably was looking forward with much anticipation to this new life that he was about to begin. He’s getting married – and I’m sure he probably had all the hopes and expectations that any young person might have at such a time in life. Although we have to be careful not to presume too much, it’s clear that whatever hopes and expectations he had to build a life with his young wife Mary – these hopes and aspirations are now gone. Who knows what this situation might mean for him in the community? I can’t imagine that this would be a very enviable position to be in.

When we think about our lives, are there things that we are afraid of? I’m sure if we take just a moment to think about where we are in life – our relationships, our future, the world in which we life — there would be things that cause us to be fearful, anxious and afraid. For me, I know this is certainly true. As more my beard turns to gray and white, I am reminded that I am growing old and I sometimes am a bit fearful of what that experience of aging will be like for me. Not only am a sometimes afraid of growing old, but I’m also afraid of the possibility of growing old alone, wondering whether or not I’ll have someone to share that time of life with.
I’m blessed to have both of my parents still alive and doing well, but I’m afraid of the day that I know will come when that’s no longer true.
I’m afraid that someday the good health I’ve been blessed with might fail, and that I will become ill, and perhaps even no longer able to care for myself and dependent on others. I’m afraid that maybe I haven’t done all I should to prepare for the future, and that I won’t be able to meet all of my needs.

Looking beyond myself …

• I sometimes fear that our American culture and society is becoming less tolerant of people like you and me … and less tolerant and accepting of anyone who is “different” or “one of them” or “not like us” in one way or another.
• At the risk of saying something political, I fear that the next resident of the White House might speak a good game of “being Christian,” but be someone whose understanding of Christianity – as a religion rooted in love, in charity — is so different from those of us gathered here.
• I fear, too, that bishops and other leaders in our own Catholic community will continue to close the doors to people like us – or welcome us only when we agree to remain quietly in the shadows – ostensibly telling us that really is no room for us at the tables they set.

Psychologists tell us that there are typically two normal, primal responses to fear. They speak of our natural “fight or flight” response. When we find ourselves in a situation that we perceive as threatening and potentially harmful – we either become combative and begin to lash out [like the animal who’s been backed into a corner], or we simply run away to a place where we feel protected and the threat can no longer reach us. Isn’t this what Joseph wanted to do? He wanted the situation in which he found himself to go away – his “flight response” was in high gear.

For him, it took the intervention of an angel in a dream, to help him understand that he didn’t really see the full picture. This dream – which I believe had to have been born of his fundamental faith in God, the “righteous,” good guy that he was – this dream helps him to remember that God is at work even in this situation in which his plans are being turned upside down and things aren’t working out as he had hoped.

And so, he realizes that in fact, there is a third response to Fear. Instead of “fight or flight,” he finds strength in his faith – a faith that tells him God’s hand is at work. In these next brief days before Christmas, let’s take just a few moments to think about those things which cause us to be afraid – remembering that the angel’s words to Joseph are spoken to us as well: “Do not be afraid.” Like this holy place in which are gathered, let us remember Immanuel — God is with us.