Month: December 2015

Israel had a long wait before any novelties in salvation history occurred. After the last prophets in the Old Testament spoke it was a few centuries before the angel Gabriel was sent to John the Baptist’s father in order to announce that John would be the prophet coming just before the Messiah. Zechariah was an observant Jew, following the Law and fulfilling his duties faithfully, but after hoping for a child old age probably convinced him nothing new was forthcoming. His faith was still there, but it was tired. So when the angel Gabriel came and announced not only that he was to have a son, but that his son would be the prophet who’d immediately precede Messiah he responded with a tired and insufficient faith: he asked how an old man could beget a son.

Gabriel’s reaction was almost, “what, an angel of God appearing to you is not enough of a sign?” Zechariah needed “quiet time” to process everything that was happening and to see that what the angel announced would come to pass. Zechariah could represent all of salvation history before that first Advent, religious, waiting, but tired. Every Advent can present that same danger, which is why we need to impose “quiet time” on ourselves to process the incredible mysteries of God that are unfolding in these days: that the Word should become baby and dwell among us, that God would want to live a human life to show his love and solidarity with us, and lay down his life for us.

A lifetime of quiet is not enough to fully fathom that mystery, but if we don’t try then, like Zechariah, we’ll be silent spectators to the incredible things God has planned. Let’s live these last few days of Advent in silent wonder and openness to whatever God wants to announce to us this Christmas season.

Readings: Judges 13:2–7, 24–25a; Psalm 71:3–4a, 5–6ab, 16–17; Luke 1:5–25.

As part of the last week of Advent the Gospel turns to another important member of the Holy Family, St. Joseph. As the First Reading reminds us today, as well as the lineage recalled yesterday, the Messiah was to be born into the House of David. It is thanks to St. Joseph that it happened. However, as today’s Gospel reminds us, it was not all cut and dry for Joseph; he knew he was not Jesus’ biological father, and that apparently meant adultery on Mary’s part, calling for action to be taken.

The Law was clear on how adulteresses should be treated, but somehow Joseph knew in his heart that he should not expose Mary to cold brutality that the Law apparently condoned in those cases (adulteresses shunned and even stoned). He had a dilemma in his heart and he felt obliged to opt for the Law, but in the most compassionate manner possible: a parting of ways with Mary through a quiet divorce. So God resorted to a channel of communication that hearkened back to the age of the Patriarchs: a dream. Joseph had already intuited in his heart that the raw Law was not the answer, but he hadn’t felt he could go beyond it, just temper it with forgiveness and compassion. In the dream the angel communicated to him that the Holy Spirit itself was responsible for Mary’s pregnancy and that Jesus would be the Messiah. Joseph obeyed and welcomed not only Mary and Jesus into his home, but into the House of David.

If it seems sometimes that God has to resort to a back channel to communicate with us, to lower our resistance in order to speak to us, we must remember that the most fundamental means of communication is love. It doesn’t discard justice; rather, it tempers it and permits space for mercy and compassion. When we don’t understand what Our Lord is asking from us, or why he may have permitted a troubling situation, let’s strive to respond with the same fairness and compassion as St. Joseph. The Lord will make sure his message gets through to us somehow.

Readings: Jeremiah 23:5–8; Psalm 72:1–2, 12–13, 18–19; Matthew 1:18–25.

We’re now just a week away from Christmas, and in the last week of Advent the liturgy starts to reflect that we’re in the home stretch. Today’s Gospel is the beginning of the Gospel according to Matthew, and Matthew wants to start salvation history through Our Lord’s family tree. Through his family on earth God in His Son has become part of human history in order to redeem all of humanity. His Incarnation and birth are the fulfillment of the promises God has made throughout salvation history, and Matthew acknowledges this using genealogical language.

In calling Jesus the “son of Abraham” is he showing Our Lord to be the inheritor of the promise God made to Abraham that through him all nations would be blessed (see Genesis 12:2–3). This in part is why Jesus’ family tree not only includes Jews, but those from other nations as well, such as Ruth. In calling Jesus the son of David and the Christ Matthew is testifying that Jesus is the answer to the promise recalled in today’s First Reading: Judah in his descendants would reign (the symbolism of the scepter and mace) and receive tribute and homage without end. The Lion of Judah mentioned in the First Reading is Jesus because he fulfills that promise. King David was a descendant of Judah, and Our Lord is a descendant of David: the Lord promised David through the prophet Nathan that his dynasty would endure forever (see 2 Samuel 7:12–16), and in Christ Our King it does.

We consider Abraham our father in faith because it was thanks to his faith that the promises were fulfilled. Mary receives a prominent place in this family tree thanks to her fiat that made her the Mother of God and of Our Savior. We’ve been adopted into this wonderful family through faith and baptism; let’s strive for a place of honor in it as well through a life of faith.

Readings: Genesis 49:2, 8–10; Psalm 72:1–2, 3–4ab, 7–8, 17; Matthew 1:1–17.