First Week

1st Week of Advent, Monday

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Today’s Gospel reminds us that Our Lord was not the Messiah everyone expected. The Messiah was supposed to overthrow pagans and oppressors, and the Romans in his time were occupying Palestine. Yet Our Lord finds something in this centurion that he hadn’t even found in the people who’d been prepared for his coming: a great faith. It’s not easy to surprise Our Lord, and in the case of the centurion he is pleasantly surprised.

Our Lord also reminds us today that he came to save everyone, not just the Jews. Anyone who believes in him will receive healing and grace, pagan or otherwise. Advent should be a time of joyful expectation for everyone, because we’re celebrating the coming of Our Lord to give everyone an opportunity for salvation.

Even baptized Christians sometimes live like pagans. Advent is a time to start fresh. The centurion mustered his faith for the good of his servant, not just for himself. Let’s show concern for others this Advent. It’s the first step toward turning away from ourselves and, in faith, turning toward Our Lord.

Readings: Isaiah 4:2–6; Psalm 122:1–9; Matthew 8:5–11. See also 12th Week in Ordinary Time, Saturday.

1st Sunday in Advent, Cycle A

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Today in the celebration of the Eucharist there’s a change of color of vestments to celebrate a change of season. It’s not just that the weather is getting colder: today we begin a new season in the liturgical year and a new liturgical year. Yesterday was the end of the last liturgical year, and symbolized the end of time when Christ will come to definitively overthrow sin and death so that we can live forever with him and everyone we love. We celebrated that last Sunday by celebrating the Solemnity of Christ the King.

This Sunday we begin the season of Advent. “Advent” means “coming.” Last Sunday we celebrated the Second Coming of Christ, which is going to come in the future; during Advent we prepare to celebrate the First Coming of Christ. Christ’s First Coming happened on Christmas. Actually, it happened at the Annunciation, which was when he became man and why that feast is also called the Feast of the Incarnation, but he was born at Christmas, which is also called the Feast of the Nativity.

During the liturgical year we celebrate all the mysteries of Christ’s life, from the beginning of time, even before he became man and came to earth, until the end of time, when he will return and lead us to eternal life with him and everyone we love. We also celebrate the whole history of salvation during the liturgical year. In Advent we celebrate the start of the history of salvation, before Christ’s First Coming to earth at Christmas.

In today’s Gospel Jesus is speaking about his Second Coming, but the question for both Comings of Christ is the same: How are you getting ready? How do you answer that question? It’s going to influence how you live Advent a lot. Is it “finally!”? Is it “yeah, right…”? Is it “yikes”? Those answers are not answers to what gifts you’re going to get, what family you’re going to see, or how much you’re going to eat: they’re answers to how you are getting ready for Christ’s coming at Christmas.

The Second Reading and the Gospel today remind us that he is coming at an unexpected moment. For the Israelites that was nothing new, but what they didn’t imagine was that the Messiah, the Savior of the World, would come in such an unexpected way: as a little baby in a manger. What’s your response to the Savior of the World coming as a little baby and lying in a manger? Maybe the question “Are you getting ready?” takes on a different light when you consider how he is coming. For the Israelites, the coming of the Messiah was going to be at the end of time: he was coming to defeat all their enemies and clean house. Instead he came as a little baby, way ahead of schedule. How did they respond? Some saw a little baby in a manger and said, “he’s not the Messiah, come on….” Others didn’t even believe in a Messiah to begin with, and didn’t change their opinion: “yeah, sure, the Savior of the World…right.” Christians are often on the fence: Some have the same attitude as the Israelites and the skeptics, but others are saying, “yikes,” because the Second Coming is all they have on their mind, and they know they’re not ready.

Advent is a time to get ready the real Christian way, just as today’s Psalm says: “Let us go rejoicing!” Rejoicing is the Christian way to respond to the question Jesus is asking in the Gospel today. In today’s First Reading Isaiah prophesies the coming of the Messiah as time of peace and blessings for all nations forever – that is cause for rejoicing. Isaiah’s prophecy began to be fulfilled in the First Coming, when the Savior of the World was born, and will be fulfilled in the Second.

In the First Coming and the Second Coming Christ is not letting us go it alone. When St. Paul in the Second Reading today reminds us that “our salvation is nearer now that we first believed,” he’s reminding us that Christ is nearer to us now because he is one of us. God became man. At Christmas we’ll be celebrating the fact that God is with us as one of us. We have to do our part, we have to change our lives, but shielded by the “armor of light,” “putting on the Lord Jesus Christ,” as St. Paul encourages us to do: by living a Christian life we are helping Christ to fulfill that prophecy of Isaiah.

Let’s begin Advent by preparing ourselves joyfully for Christ’s coming. The Lord has given us a whole liturgical season to get ready for his Coming: four whole weeks. Ask him to help you keep him in the center of your preparation for Christmas. Christmas is going to be a time for family, friends, and rest, but it is also a time for rejoicing, because the Savior of the World is going to be born. Let’s start Advent with joyous expectation.

Readings: Isaiah 2:1–5; Psalm 122:1–9; Romans 13:11–14; Matthew 24:37–44. See also 21st Week in Ordinary Time, Thursday.

1st Week of Lent, Saturday

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In yesterday‘s Gospel we considered the need to make an effort to reconcile and forgive anyone with which we’ve been in enmity. So what about when they don’t want to reconcile? What about if they’re hostile to us, or it might even be dangerous to us if we approach them? There are also faceless, anonymous enemies to our society and to our faith, faces we may never meet in this lifetime, but faces who seek some ruin for something we consider important. Despite our best efforts there are people, wittingly or unwittingly, who see the values reflected by the Gospel as a threat and want to respond with their own, often destructive, agenda.

If we live as Our Lord wishes, all the things Moses promises Israel on behalf of the Lord in the First Reading today will be fulfilled, and people who don’t share that joy will be jealous. Our light will shine, and people in darkness will either seek it out or curse it because it blinds them. We can’t know what’s going on entirely in a soul that’s battling darkness and sin, but we do know that the longer they’re exposed to that light, the greater chance their eyes will adapt to it and start to see by it. That light is charity. Charity toward those we love, charity toward those we’ve wronged, and charity toward those who hate us.

The exaltation, praise, and glory that the Lord promises us in today’s First Reading is due to out charity. Lent may be somberly penitential, but it should also be blindingly charitable. Let’s hold high the beacon of our charity so that everyone can see by its light.

Readings: Deuteronomy 26:16–19; Psalm 119:1–2, 4–5, 7–8; Matthew 5:43–48.  See also 11th Week in Ordinary Time, Tuesday and 23rd Week in Ordinary Time, Thursday.

1st Week of Lent, Friday

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Giving alms in its most traditional form consists of helping the poor and the needy in some way, but in today’s Gospel we’re reminded that our charity toward others can be a Lenten almsgiving that is just as pleasing to Our Lord. Just as we lavish a meal, some clothes, or some other necessity on the poor we can lavish mercy on someone we feel has wronged us. It’s easy to settle for just not physically harming someone who has crossed us, or maintaining an angry distance and silence, but Our Lord warns us that is a very superficial attitude that doesn’t entail reconciliation.

In many cases in which we estrange ourselves from God, we estrange ourselves from others. Two effects of the sacrament of Reconciliation are reconciliation with God and reconciliation with the Church. Our Lord reminds us today that this reconciliation is a two-way street: we can ask ourselves how reconciled we are with God if we haven’t reconciled with others. This provides food for thought when we have that moment of silence in the Penitential Rite at the start of every celebration of the Eucharist: do we need to reconcile with someone, whether as the guilty party or as the victim? This isn’t necessarily “feeling it”: if someone hurt us, or we hurt someone else, the wounds remain, and the pain continues even after they’ve begun to heal. Sometimes it is impossible to even find the other person again to try and reconcile. Rather than a feeling, it is a question having a firm spiritual resolve and attitude, despite adverse sentiments, to forgive or to make amends whenever possible.

Lent is an apt time for taking stock of whether we need to reconcile with anyone. Our Lord came and suffered the Passion to reconcile us with Our Father and with others. Let’s welcome his mediation in any disputes or feuds we’ve had by working and praying for the grace of truly forgiving and seeking forgiveness from those with whom we’ve been at enmity.

Readings: Ezekiel 18:21–28; Psalm 130:1–8; Matthew 5:20–26. See also 10th Week in Ordinary Time, Thursday.

1st Week of Lent, Thursday

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Queen Esther in today’s First Reading is working up the courage to face death for the sake of her people after living in the lap of luxury. Her pagan king has issued a decree, due to the selfish machinations of a member of his court, to destroy all the Jews in his realm, and Esther is the only one who can convince the king otherwise. However, she is not allowed to enter the king’s presence under pain of death unless he chooses to summon her. The king may pardon her, but due to the laws and the workings of the court he may just as well have her killed, and then not only will her people die, but she will die as well. The stakes are big not just for her people, but for herself. Therefore it’s understandable that her prayer is filled with angst, but it also reminds us, as Our Lord reminds us today in the Gospel, that the angst in our prayer should not be self-inflicted.

Angst is normal when we are facing something dramatic and the outcome is unclear, but we can suffer a lot of needless angst if we lose sight of the fact that we are asking something from Our Father and not a king in the style of the king Esther is about to risk her life trying to see. In today’s Gospel Our Lord reminds us, just as he did last Tuesday, that God is Our Father. He knows what we need, and he’s not some fickle and cruel despot. A father wants to give good things to his children. Our Father wants to give us good things, all we have to do is ask.

Why at times do we inflict more angst on ourselves? Because we examine our hearts and don’t think we deserve good things or a good Father. Because the deals and promises we try to make in exchange for God’s favors are so big that not even we believe we’ll keep them. Because he’s helped us in the past and we’ve been ungrateful. Because we want to work things out on our own. That’s not a relationship of Father-child; that’s deal brokering with nothing to bring to the table. In short, we know we don’t merit Our Father’s help, yet we need it and can’t offer much in return.

Our Lord tells us in today’s Gospel not to worry. Esther’s prayer was heard; ours will be as well. Ask for what you need with the trust and simplicity of a child.

Readings: Esther C:12, 14–16, 23–25; Psalm 138:1–3, 7c–8; Matthew 7:7–12. See also 27th Week in Ordinary Time, Thursday.