3rd Sunday of Advent 2025 - Joy in stillness

On the first Sunday of Advent, our Scripture readings urged us to be mindful of the need to prepare well during this holy season. On the Second Sunday, last week, we heard John the Baptist urge us to repent—to prepare for the Lord’s coming by turning away from our sins, detaching from worldly distractions, and making straight the pathways in our lives for God.

On this third Sunday of Advent, Gaudete Sunday—we are presented with images of joy—the joyful exultation of Israel as God’s promises are fulfilled, and the Lord pointing to the example of John the Baptist, who leapt for joy in his mother’s womb at the drawing near of the savior. Jesus sends John’s disciples to tell the good news to John, now in prison, that the signs of the Messiah’s coming were now being fulfilled by Jesus. Even in prison, this would have brough John joy.

Joy, it is the deep longing of the human heart. Each one of us longs for joy. No one ever complained about having too much joy in their lives. Rather, the opposite is true, we tire of the joyless, and often jump from one pursuit to the next looking for that elusive joy. 

The brilliant Christian author, C.S. Lewis well-known for his “Chronicles of Narnia” books like “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe,” also wrote a sort of spiritual autobiography, in which he details his conversion to Christianity from Atheism—a book titled “Surprised by Joy”. In it, Lewis describes how every human being who has ever existed desires joy—we crave it; each of us are on an eternal quest for lasting joy.  Yet, joy, Lewis admits, is the most elusive of the virtues: we are all searching for it, but few seem to find enduring joy.  The authentically and fully joyful person is rare.  

Lewis explains that joy is often so elusive and hard to find because so many people are looking for joy “out there”—as if joy can be acquired if I just obtain the right object, or the right amount of cash in my bank account, in some earthly thing or activity or set of circumstances 

This is why our culture always seems so exhausted once Christmas is over. Our consumeristic, materialistic culture is convinced that joy can be purchased and found in material things like playstations, iphones, televisions, new wardrobes, and the like.

Lewis writes, “No, “Joy does not come from out there,” Lewis says, rather “Joy comes from in here.”  Joy comes into the heart when we are in right relationship with God—joy is a fruit of the Holy Spirit.  Only when the heart is firmly planted in Christ and doing the works of Christ, will the fruit of joy truly bloom.

Joy is most elusive, but there are a group of people who have discovered Joy. The saints! If you’ve ever met a truly holy person, they are filled with joy. The saints show us that joy is truly found in the Lord. They sing along with Psalm 16: “[Lord] you make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy.”

The saints also show us what is required to tend the soil of one’s heart so that joy may bloom. In the saints, we see that joy is cultivated primarily in two ways. 

Firstly, why are the saints so joyful? Because they have learned to live for others. They show us that joy is cultivated not through selfish accumulation, but by giving oneself away in service. Joy is not found in stuffing yourself to the gills day after day, but in feeding the hungry. Joy is not found with meticulously assembling the perfect wardrobe by keep up with the newest fashions, but by clothing the naked. Joy is not found in mindlessly doom scrolling on your phone and trying to convince people that you have the perfect life on social media, but disciplining and structuring your life around intentional generosity and self-sacrifice. They show us that the way of Christ—putting the teachings of Christ in practice, particularly those lessons of charity—is the pathway to joy.

So, firstly, the saints cultivate joy through self-sacrificial good works. Secondly, they show us the indispensability of prayer. And when I say prayer, I’m not just talking about rattling off an our father or hail mary once a day if you remember to do so, or saying grace before meals. Those prayers are important, however, the prayer of the saints is practice by quieting the mind and the soul, seeking God in the stillness of one’s soul. The saints practice prayer to such an extent that they learn to encounter the living God who makes His dwelling in the soul of the baptized. Prayer, for the saints becomes a living fountain of joy. 

This week in OCIA we talked about one of the great teachers of prayer, St. Theresa of Avila, the great Carmelite mystic and one of the four female doctors of the Church. Doctor, by the way, doesn’t mean that she was a medical doctor. The word ‘doctor’ means learned one—someone with something to teach. And the doctors of the Church are the ones learned in the faith and the spiritual life. St. Theresa of Avila is a doctor of the Church because what she has to teach us about prayer.

The doctor of prayer, St. Theresa wrote extensively on prayer and the spiritual life. Her masterpiece on prayer, called “The Interior Castle” was written for those who want to make serious progress in the spiritual life and the practice of prayer. Though it was written over 500 years ago, the language is easy to understand and quite accessible—you should check it out.

Throughout the chapters of her book, Theresa describes how the human soul is like a mansion. And as we enter deeper and deeper into the mansion of the soul, we come experience a purer and purer encounter with God. The journey through the inner mansion of the soul is transformative; we are changed as we grow nearer to God—we grow in joy, in purity of love and intension, detachment from sin, we grow in simplicity, and willingness to suffer for the sake of others. Growth in prayer, growth in holiness, brings growth in joy, as we grow nearer and nearer to God—the source of all joy.

The season of Advent, especially today, Gaudete Sunday, has this character, of seeking to enter more deeply into communion with God, seeking the joy and fullness of life that only He can bring, the joy that the soul longs for.

Throughout her writing, Theresa repeatedly emphasizes that it is not only we who long for God, but God who longs for us, and God desires union with each one of us. And that union doesn’t just begin when our earthly life comes to an end, Yes, we are meant for union with God in eternity, but that experience and growth in communion with God is to start now, in this earthly life—again through prayer, and the life of charity.

We will be happier, more joyful and fulfilled, when we make the inner journey, stripping away all that keeps us from that encounter with Christ, who draws near to us, and makes his dwelling among us, in our very souls. Gaudete in domino semper, rejoice in the Lord always. Dominus enim prope est. Indeed, the Lord is near. 

A week and a half now before Christmas, let us make good use of the time we have been given, to draw near to the Lord who has drawn near to us, for the glory of God and the salvation of souls.

3rd Sunday of Advent 2024 - Surprised by Joy

 Happy Gaudete Sunday, everyone. Today, we rejoice because the Lord is near.

Joy is certainly one of the virtues we most associate with Christmas. I can hardly wait to hear the choir burst into “Joy to the World” at Christmas Mass.

The mid-20th century author C.S. Lewis wrote about joy. Though he is best known for his children’s books like The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and his Christian apologetics like Mere Christianity, he also wrote a remarkable book on joy titled "Surprised by Joy."

In it, Lewis reflects on how the virtue of joy, which we all desire and crave, seems so elusive. We are all searching for it, yet few find enduring joy because, as Lewis explains, most people make the mistake of looking for joy “out there” in material things, as if it can be purchased, accumulated, or obtained from the correct alignment of earthly circumstances. Rather, true joy, he insists, is not found in externals. Rather, joy is found in God who is near to us.

And Lewis wrote from experience, for “Surprised by Joy” is, in part, a spiritual autobiography that chronicles key periods of his childhood, adolescence, and early adulthood. Rather than a straightforward life story, it focuses on the inner intellectual and emotional currents that led him first away from his childhood faith into atheism, and then—much later—back to Christianity.

Lewis identifies several factors that contributed to his youthful rejection of faith. First, the death of his beloved mother shook his trust in God. He had prayed desperately for her recovery, but she died despite his pleas, leaving him feeling abandoned by the God he was taught to trust. Like many Christians who fall away, grief and personal tragedy often play a role in the loss of faith.

As Lewis grew older, he encountered philosophical and literary works that challenged the existence of God and the truth of religious beliefs. Exposure to rationalist and materialist thought—through peers, teachers, and the books he read—cultivated a mindset that prized logic, scientific explanation, and empirical evidence over openness to infinite mystery.  

Moreover, the Christianity of his childhood seemed sentimental and shallow to him—little more than comforting stories and moral lessons. Without deep theological grounding, he began to see this early faith as naïve and unexamined. Disillusioned, he turned to what he perceived as a more mature, intellectually honest worldview: atheism. But, though atheism appeared more rational, it did not address the persistent ache he would later recognize as a clue pointing beyond himself.

In time, however, a series of influences and experiences led Lewis to reconsider his atheism and open himself to authentic Christian faith. As the title of his book suggests, joy played a central role in this transformation.

Lewis confesses that he had long been haunted by “Joy”. Though he experienced glimpses of joy in his childhood, and reading, traveling to beautiful vistas, and time with family. Initially, he tried to satisfy this longing through art, philosophy, and pleasures of various kinds, but nothing gave him lasting fulfillment. Over time, he began to suspect that this longing pointed to something real and transcendent—something beyond the merely material world.

He started reading Christian authors like G.K. Chesterton, who presented a version of Christianity that was robust, imaginative, and intellectually stimulating, far different from the simplistic faith of his childhood. Christian friends at Oxford—such as J.R.R. Tolkien—helped guide him toward a Christianity that addressed both heart and mind. In the end, the surprise was that “Joy” itself served as a clue leading him to God. All his earlier attempts to find joy in art, nature, stories, and entertainment revealed themselves as signposts, not the source. The true source of joy was something far greater and more real than he had ever imagined—God Himself.

I mention Lewis’s journey because each of us is searching for joy. We are not imagining this longing. We crave more than ordinary pleasures because even the best things in this world leave us wanting something deeper.

This is why Lewis’s insight is an important lesson for Advent. We should seek the joy our hearts truly desire—the joy that can only be found in Jesus Christ who is near. “Rejoice, the Lord is near,” St. Paul tells us this weekend. It answers Lewis’s question: Where can joy be found? Joy is found in the Lord, who draws near to us.

So, how do we draw close to the Lord that we may come to experience Christian joy more deeply? What can we learn from Lewis? His conversion did not come through blind emotion or unthinking acceptance. Instead, he engaged reason, logic, and remained open to mystery. He wrestled with hard questions, examined his doubts honestly, and allowed Truth to guide him. He opened himself to beauty, music, and art. He read Christian thinkers and spent time with intellectually honest Christian friends. He engaged his whole person to seek a mature faith. Honest inquiry, deep longing, humble listening, appreciation of beauty, engagement of his whole self, and supportive community all led him, despite life’s tragedies, to discover that God was nearer than he ever thought possible.

On this Gaudete Sunday, let’s refuse to settle for cheap imitations of joy. While we may be tempted to seek to satisfy our longing for joy in the materialism of this season, our hearts are made for something—and Someone—far greater. In these final days before Christmas, seek the One who meets us in the stillness and poverty of Bethlehem. His is birth in straw poverty remains us that HE is the only thing necessary. HE is the source of joy. So, we must seek Him in heartfelt prayer, in the beauty of sacred music and quiet reflection, in friendships that nurture our faith, in works of charity, in the Word that lights our way.

Prayerfully and intentionally open your heart to the Christ Child, the only one who can satisfy our insatiable longing for true and lasting joy. This Advent, our longing for the joyful encounter with Christ can be a bright star in the darkness leading us to the stable where Joy Himself—the Lord who is near—awaits, for the glory of God and the salvation of souls.

3rd Sunday of Advent 2023 - Encountering God in the messiness

 Throughout the season of Advent, we read from the book of the prophet Isaiah. As I mentioned last week, the book of the prophet Isaiah is divided into two parts. In the first 39 chapters of Isaiah, the prophet helps Israel come to terms with the terrible consequences of their unfaithfulness to God. For unfaithfulness had brought great ruin, societal chaos and division to Israel. Israel had failed to uphold the ways of the Lord; they had failed to teach their children to walk in the ways of the Lord, which led to being captured and marched into exile by the Babylonians. 

Sin causes us to lose the things we love. Sin wounds us, it separates us from goodness, harmony, beauty, truth and life itself—the wages of sin are death. Families become divided because of sin, sin turns man against his brother, nations are divided. Sin has ripple effects that can impact generations and it deprives us of peace. Minds and hearts are warped, perverted, and corrupted by sin. Sin—faithlessness—brings depression, confusion, and self-destruction.

And the prophet explains how Israel has brought misery upon herself, so she can acknowledge her mistakes and turn back to the covenant.

But then, in chapter 40, the book of Isaiah takes a turn. And Isaiah announces some very good news. Even though Israel has been unfaithful, God is going to do something great. So get ready, prepare ye the way of the Lord, the time of exile is coming to an end. God is near.

And in that last half of Isaiah, we are presented with a series of prophecies describing a mysterious “servant of the Lord”. God isn’t just going to do something great. He’s going to send someone great. An instrument of God who will fulfill God’s will to bring salvation to his people, who will say  “The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord has anointed me…to bring glad tidings to the poor, to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to captives, and release to prisoners.” 

Advent of course prepares us to celebrate the birth of God’s servant, his anointed one, his Christ, on Christmas. God has entered into history and brought salvation. But he also wishes to enter into each of our lives particularly, with his healing salve. Advent calls us to open our lives to God to break into the poverty and brokenheartedness, and capitivity, and imprisonment into the messy details of our lives with healing, peace, and spiritual freedom.

Five years ago already, our previous bishop, Bishop Perez celebrated a Christmas Mass for the inmates at the Cuyahoga County Jail. And he shared a little reflection on the Christmas story. He noted that the Christ—the anointed servant of the Father—the savior was not born into idyllic circumstances, but into cold, dirty cave—into a “real mess” the Bishop said. A world with slavery, and abuse, and tyranny, and abject poverty, heartache, abhorrent perversions—a real mess. 

And Bishop Perez likened the situation of the Holy Family on Christmas to some of the prisoner’s situations, a “real mess”—where the consequences of sin were evident and felt.  But the Christmas message proclaims that it is precisely into the real mess of our lives that the Christ Child desires to be born: into the messiness, into the challenges and hardships, into the illnesses and financial concerns, into the addictions and family divisions, and injustices beyond our control.  And the Bishop prayed for those inmates, he said, “As you confront what you are confronting, may you come face-to-face with the Christ Child.”

Again, Advent is about opening your life, your mind and heart to encounter God more deeply and to allow God to “do his thing” in the messy details of your life. But that involves a choice. If you want to resist God, God isn’t going to force you to have a joyful Christmas. If you want to remain in sin and addiction and the misery that comes from sin, that’s up to you. But if you get serious about welcoming God, there can be joy, there can be healing to your brokenheartedness, and spiritual freedom.

This week the Church celebrated the feast of a saint who was imprisoned. On Thursday, we celebrated St. John of the Cross. John of the Cross was a Carmelite priest who was imprisoned, starved, and publicly flogged by his own religious community, but not for committing a crime. His own religious brothers imprisoned John for attempting to reform his community, as it had greatly deviated from its rules and statutes. The community had abandoned the austerity, poverty, and discipline called for by the Carmelite Rule. And when John called for reform, he was silenced and imprisoned—talk about a mess!  Some people—even consecrated religious don’t like to be told that they are not being faithful to God!

And in prison St. John experienced the cross quite acutely: isolation, starvation, cruelty at the hands of his brothers. But, he did not blame God for his situation; he did not become bitter because of the injustice. His sufferings did not diminish his desire for holiness. Rather, his desire for union with God increased. He passed the time reflecting on the Scriptures which he had memorized. And he composed some of the most beautiful mystical poetry outside of scripture—which exists to this day. 

In the darkness of the prison, John blossomed into a great mystical poet and theologian, and even enjoyed a depth of prayer that could be described as ecstatic. In the dark dank prison cell, he opened his heart to God, and met God in the absolute mess of his life. And because he allowed himself to experience God in prison, he was made free. St. John has been declared a doctor of the church because he has so much to teach us about seeking God prayerfully in the concrete messy details, in the crosses of our lives. 

We, present here today, are not imprisoned, like the inmates of the County Prison or like St. John of the cross, but there’s likely a measure of messiness to each of our lives. Perhaps you feel imprisoned by circumstances beyond your control. And again, Advent calls us to identify them, and to seek to meet God in them. 

This touches upon what St. Paul instructs us in our second reading today. In our second reading, St. Paul gives us some of the most difficult instructions in the Bible. He says, Rejoice in the Lord always, In all circumstances give thanks. Really Paul? Always? Even in prison? Unemployment? Marital difficulties? Even when I seem to be failing at all life’s demands? And Paul says, Always. For when we learn to encounter God always, we learn to rejoice always. And remember Paul wrote those words, just a few years before he himself would be imprisoned in Rome because of his preaching of the Gospel of Christ.

Joy comes from knowing the Lord God and experiencing his nearness in the messiness, even in the sufferings, especially in the sufferings of our lives. Having a real, living relationship with God enables even the Christian imprisoned to be freer and more joyful than any atheist surrounded by worldly treasures. 

If you’ve been experiencing joylessness this Advent, be honest about the messiness of your life with God, and invite God more deeply into the messiness. The experience of His nearness will heal deep wounds when you let Him and rekindle joy you thought lost for the glory of God and the salvation of souls.

3rd Sunday of Advent 2020 - Undeniable Joy

 

Joy is the virtue most associated with Christmas.  And liturgically, the Church shows that we can barely hold back our joy that Christmas is so near.  Even in the priest’s vestments and the third candle on the advent wreath, we combine purple, the advent Color, and white, the Christmas color, to give us the rose color that is unique to this Gaudete Sunday. We rejoice, for the Lord is near.

What is joy?  C.S. Lewis, the wonderful Christian author, well-known for his “Chronicles of Narnia”, books like “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe,” wrote a sort of spiritual autobiography, in which he details his conversion to Christianity from Atheism—a book titled “Surprised by Joy”. In it, Lewis describes how every human being who’s ever existed desires joy—we crave it, we are on an eternal quest for joy—an insight certainly consistent with the likes of Augustine and Aquinas.  Yet, joy, Lewis admits, seems to be the most elusive of the virtues: we are all searching for it, but few seem to find enduring joy.  The authentically and fully joyful person is rare.  

Lewis explains that joy is often so elusive and hard to find, because so many people are looking for joy “out there”— in things—as if joy can be acquired if I just obtain the right object, or the right amount of cash in my bank account, in some earthly thing or activity or set of circumstances. Earthly pleasures are inadequate substitutes for the joy was so long for. 

This is why I think we are sort of relieved when Christmas is over.  We become so focused on the earthly busyness—shopping, decorating, and baking, and the material things like playstations, and televisions and new wardrobe, that when everything is over we are left exhausted.  

No, “Joy does not come from out there,” Lewis says, rather “Joy comes from in here.”  Joy comes into the heart when we are in right relationship with God—joy is a fruit of the Holy Spirit.  Only when the heart is firmly planted in Christ and doing the works of Christ, will the fruit of joy truly bloom.

No doubt the saints are the great exemplars of Joy. I think, particularly of St. Clare of Assisi. Saint Clare is a great example of one who knew that joy is not found in things but in falling in love with Christ.  Clare was the modern day equivalent of a princess: living in a castle, betrothed to a prince, she had every material thing should could have wanted—fancy dresses, servants to wait on her.  Yet, she, like St. Francis, gave up all of her earthly possessions in order to possess true joy through a life of prayer—by learning to keep the focus of her heart, not on a million passing things, but on the one thing—the one person that matters most.  

The cloistered nuns over on Rocky River Dr, the Poor Clares follow the example of St. Clare, they live in cloister—separate from the world of things—to dedicate themselves to prayerful adoration of the Lord.  These nuns, the Poor Clares, through the Vows of their Religious Profession, consecrate their entire lives to Adoring Jesus Christ  in the Eucharist, as St. Clare did in simplicity, prayer, penance, and seclusion. 

This group of women, the Poor Clares along with the hundreds of cloistered orders around the world, from an earthly point of view, should be very sad.  They don’t have any money, the sisters individually don’t have bank accounts or a check book. The sisters don’t have any personal possessions—they’ve probably never even held a cell phone or ipad or watched Netflix.  They aren’t free to go out to the movie theater or to a baseball game or to the opera or to take a vacation to the Bahamas or Disney World.  

From an earthly point of view, the Poor Clares should have no joy.  But yet—they’re full of joy—they are always smiling, they are always laughing, they always have an uplifting, encouraging word—you count yourself blessed for having met them.

Sure, the accumulation of things and degrees and awards and notoriety bring us some passing satisfaction.  But the poor Clares and many like them are full of joy not because of what they obtained out there, but cultivating of fiery love for Jesus Christ in here. 

Another important thing to remember about Joy is that it Joy is a virtue, that means it increases and increases the more we practice it and cultivate it.  

I heard of a young priest, newly ordained, who was considering leaving the priesthood, because after less than a year he hadn’t developed perfect joy. Visiting the sick and teaching catechism and celebrating the sacraments didn’t bring him this ecstasy that he thought it was going to. The honeymoon phase was over, as we say. But, the older priests will tell you that, joy doesn’t just happen overnight, it is cultivated, and must be done patiently. 

Real joy is obtained only after persevering through a period of dryness, remaining faithful to God in the midst of the spiritual battle, when we resist the temptation to seek our happiness in those passing satisfactions. 

Joy is possible. Our religion works, if you work it. As they say. 

I saw a recently published study about mental health in our country after a these months and months of COVID. The article examined the mental health and experience of depression amongst different segments of our current society, and it was abundantly clear that the one real group in this country whose mental health is pretty good right now are people who go to church every week and pray every day. 

How is this possible? Because our religion works. Our faith puts us in contact with the source of joy and helps us identify the attitudes and behaviors that diminish joy. Christians take St. paul at his word, when he writes, “Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing. In all circumstances give thanks” and we find that it works. 

Fasting from things you don’t need. Persevering daily in prayer. Even in difficult times turning to God with grateful hearts for the blessings which fill our lives. Finding new and creative ways to engage in the works of charity despite our limitations, it works.  It brings a joy that can’t be found in a pill or a playstation. You see less divorce among Catholics who go to Church every Sunday, you see less drug use and alcoholism, you see less addiction, and this new report shows that you see less mental health decline during a time of turmoil. 

Now that doesn’t mean we have less drama, or less tragedy, or less suffering, in fact, maybe just the opposite. And yet, fidelity to the doctrines and practices of our faith brings a resiliency and a joy that even the scientific community finds intriguing. 

Joy is a net which catches souls. It is the undeniable sign of the Holy Spirit in one’s life. So cultivate joy. Pray daily. Persevere through the dry times. Don’t stop praying just because it gets hard. Practice the works of charity. Don’t stop looking for ways to give and to help those in need just because COVID places certain limitations on our activity. God provides plenty of opportunities for us to grow in Joy even during times of captivity and persecution.

Throughout these final weeks of Advent, may the Holy Spirit free us from all that diminishes our joy, may he preserve us throughout times of discouragement, that we may cultivate true, authentic, and undeniable Christian joy as we await the coming of Christ for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

3rd Sunday of Advent 2019 - Bearing the light of patient joy

On the first Sunday of Advent we asked God for the grace to prepare well during this holy season.  On the Second Sunday, last week, we heard John the Baptist urge us to make straight the pathways for the Lord. And on this third Sunday of Advent, we are urged as we prepare for the Lord’s coming to cultivate joy.

For today is Gaudete Sunday. And Gaudete is latin for the rejoice. Since the time of Pope St. Gregory the Great in the sixth century, the third Sunday of Advent has begun with that word: Gaudete. Gaudete in domino semper, rejoice in the Lord always. 

Advent purple is replaced today by Gaudete Sunday Rose, the color of the horizon at the very start of a sunrise. We rejoice because Christ, the Son, is almost here. His light is breaking into the world. And not simply in some abstract way. His light is meant to be radiating from us, as we sing and pray and prepare for Christmas and for his coming at the end of time. Non-believers and fallen away catholics should be moved and stirred by our joy at Christ’s coming. We are to be light for those who continue to dwell in darkness.

I am reminded of one of the final chapters of Mark Twain’s classic novel Tom Sawyer. The Adventurous and somewhat mischievous Tom Sawyer and his friend Becky Thatcher go out to explore a cave outside of town. The cave is full of dark caverns and twisting passages, and as they explore, they end up getting lost. Fear sets in. Their candles - the only light they have - run low. And when their candles go out. they lose track of time, they grow hungry and desperate and start wandering through the darkness, looking for the smallest glimpse of daylight. Three days pass when, they finally spot a pinprick of light far in the distance, and they follow it to freedom.

The fallen human race is like Tom Sawyer and Becky Thatcher lost in the dark caverns of a fallen world. They travel through dark and twisting caverns, they are starving for God, their own light is insufficient. Only the light of God breaking into their world can lead them to freedom.

And that light of God, dear Christians, has been given to you and to me, to help guide souls to freedom. Advent aims at bolstering our light. Christians who rejoice in the Lord, whose lives radiate authentic Christian joy, become beacons of light for the world.

Sadly, we know, all too well, how Christians instead of radiating with the light of God can do the opposite. Through our joylessness, our sins, setting bad Christian example, instead of leading souls to God, we turn souls away. We know, sadly, how even members of the clergy and members of the hierarchy, can cause souls to become disgusted at being members of the Church. So certainly we do penance during Advent to make up for scandal, and our own failures to shine as brightly as we should.

Gaudete Sunday is certainly one of my favorite Sunday of the Church year, because it really sums up the whole of the Christian life.  There is a permanent Gaudete Sunday quality to the whole Christian life. As we await the coming of Christ, we are to reverberate with joy as we await the return of the Lord.

Now.  I don’t know about you, but I don’t usually equate waiting with joy. Waiting in traffic, waiting in the doctor’s office, waiting in line at the grocery store.  These are not typically joyful experiences, are they?

But, Mother Church gives us the key to waiting in joyful hope in our second reading today. “Be patient, brothers and sisters” he writes, “until the coming of the Lord.  See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains.  You too must be patient.” 

Americans are not known worldwide for their patience—it is not our culture’s strongest virtue.  Patience with elderly relatives, patience with the kids, patience with spouses, patience in traffic, patience during particularly verbose homilies at Mass is not always easy. Impatience is one of the most common sins I hear in the confessional.

So St. James says patience is practiced when we remain focused on the good things to come. The farmer has his mind focus less on the period of barrenness, but on the fruit of the earth to come. He understands that grey rainy days are necessary, if he wants his crop to be healthy.

So, too, Christians practice patience by keeping our minds and hearts focused on the Lord, particularly during times of stress and frustration and suffering. By focusing on the light at the end of the tunnel, Advent and the whole of the Christian life prepares us for something yet to come. Impatience can likely be a sign that we have failed to keep our focus on the end goal, on Christ.

The natural philosophers say patience is the habit by which one can wait for some good without getting upset, without the loss of peace, irritation, or anger, without complaining, bad words, and violence. Instead, the patient person can bear “provocation, annoyance, misfortune, or pain, without complaint.” A patient person can display “quiet, steady perseverance; even-tempered care; and diligence.”

More so, the Christian virtue of patience enables us to withstand physical and moral suffering, because our hearts and minds are fixed on and united to Christ.

The saints teach us of the importance of patience in the spiritual life.  St. Margaret Mary said that there is no other remedy for your ills but patience and submission to the will of God.  St. Francis de Sales said that Jesus endured scourging and ill treatment; he endured so many blasphemies and cruelties without saying a word, precisely to teach us patience. One spiritual writer said that each of us has enough trials and sufferings in our life to make us saints, if we but knew how to suffer them patiently.

I remember back in 2001 when I entered seminary.  8 years of seminary seemed like such a long time.  But those years of waiting and preparing, letting the tradition of the Church sink in, developing the habit of prayer, those were good years, joyful and mostly patient years.  Seminary formation is meant to change a man in preparation for a lifetime of priestly service. Sometimes that change was hard; as you may have realized, a hard-headed Italian. But joy always came when I surrendered and realized the Lord’s way is a lot better than my way. 

So too during this life, this Advent period of waiting, the Lord will change us, if we let him; if we patiently keep our minds and hearts fixed on him, we will be granted the gift of joy which nothing in the world can take away.

St. Cyprian said, “Patient waiting is necessary that we may fulfill what we have begun to be, and through God’s help, that we may obtain what we hope for and believe.”

In the Advent days we have left, turn to the Scriptures, recommit to daily prayer, confess your impatience, patiently serve the poor, that you may shine with the light of joyful hope for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

3rd Sunday of Advent 2018 - Rejoice in the Lord Always. Always!

A few weeks ago, at my previous parish assignments, I was meeting with our parish youth group, a great group of kids in 8th through 12th grade. The discussion that week centered on the commandments: how the commandments of God are not always easy to follow, sometimes we are tempted to break or ignore them; how the commandments of God are often differ from the attitudes of the culture—how civil laws can even allow what the law of God forbids. The conversation then turned to examine how following the commandments and the teachings of Jesus bring us a joy that nothing else in the world can give. This led us to differentiate between happiness and joy. Our culture treats those two words virtually synonymously. The word "joy" is used modernly to mean a great quantity of happiness. I’m happy, for example when the Cleveland Browns bring home a victory, but joy is reserved for births and weddings and ordinations and pastor installations.

Christians, though use these words a bit differently. Happiness is satisfaction with temporary things. Again, I’m happy when my chicken wings are the perfect level of crispiness, I’m happy when the traffic light turns green at just the right time and I can cruise right through the intersection.

But no amount of crispy chicken wings or green lights or browns victories can bring joy…ever. Because joy comes from our relationship not from temporary earthly things, but with being in right relationship with the eternal things of God: Truth, Goodness, Beauty. Our hearts are filled not just with happiness, but joy, when we learn the Truth that comes from God, when we engage in truly good acts, caring for the poor, caring for a sick family member, feeding the hungry, forgiving those who hurt us. And we are filled with joy at the sight of beauty, true beauty, the beauty of God’s creation, beautiful and timeless Christian art and architecture, like that we are able to behold when we come to St. Ignatius of Antioch church, “The Cathedral of West Blvd.”

If you remember, a few weeks ago, the story of the rich young man. Jesus invites him to give up his possessions and to follow him, and the rich young man rejects the invitation, he goes away sad, why? Because he was unwilling to detach himself from the love of his temporary, earthly possessions. He chose happiness from passing earthly things, over the joy that comes from the truth and goodness and beauty of Jesus Christ.

I reflect this morning on joy as we celebrate Joy Sunday—Gaudete Sunday. On this 3rd Sunday of Advent we allow ourselves to revel in the joy that Christ is near. Rejoice, for the Lord is near, as St. Paul writes in our second reading. The eternal one, the eternal word made flesh, whose incarnation brings about a reconciliation between man and God, man to finally be saved from slavery to the flesh that he might live for what is eternal.

Last week, I announced an increase in the availability of the Sacrament of Confession here at St. Ignatius: a full hour on Saturday, and confession between the two Sunday morning masses. In Confession, we acknowledge the times we have lived for the earthly rather than for God: for the pleasure of the instant of lust, the pleasure of sharing that juicy piece of gossip, the dark satisfaction of stunning someone into silence through hurtful words in an argument, relying on ourselves too much and trusting in God too little, for the acts of selfishness which, yes, bring some earthly gratification, but in the end, diminish authentic joy in us.

St. Paul’s exhortation to rejoice always, is quite challenging, isn’t it? . Rejoice in the Lord always?  Really Saint Paul?  Would Paul dare to say those words if he knew the horrors of the 20th century, the godlessness taking root in so many places in our world today? Does he dare to utter those words to a parent grieving the loss of a child? To a widow? To slave? To a cripple? To the terminally ill?

Well, yes, I think he would. Because his message is timeless. Now of course he’s not saying rejoice on account of all the evil in the world. Evil is not a good thing. Tragedy is not a good thing. Nor is Paul exhorting us to pretend like the evils in the world “Aren’t that bad.”

What he’s saying is, rejoice because Jesus is real and Jesus is near to us, even in tragedy, especially in tragedy. In the aftermath of senseless tragedies many ask “where is God?”  And the Church, in all honestly and conviction, says, “here.”  God is here, with us, now, with his consolation for those who mourn, with the promise of eternal life for those who die in his friendship. 

And because God is near and because God can transform every occasion into a moment of grace, the Christian can truly rejoice always.  God can transform the most painful cross into the most redemptive sanctifying moments of our life.

Echoing the words of St. Paul, Saint Therese of Liseaux from her death bed said, “Everything is grace”.  Again, in those three words, Thérèse does not mean it makes no difference what I do, that every choice is good. I cannot choose evil and think grace is in that choice. Saint Thérèse is explaining that God is never distant. Wherever we are, in that exact place in that moment, even on your death bed, even when nailed to the cross, there is the choice, to turn to God and know his closeness.  God is with us, always, and He is wholly concerned about our eternal well-being, always.

Our Advent days are literally brimming over with opportunities to encounter the Lord, to remember the Lord’s Christmas nearness. In our daily prayer, in the sacraments, in serving our neighbor, in the little crosses God gives us to bear, doing small deeds with great love. Our successes and our failures and even tragedies can be turned into moments of grace, and increase in joy, when we realize God is near. But the choice is ours to turn from darkness and self-reliance, from the bottle and pills, from the iphone screen, from the need to control the lives of others, or to turn to light, to the eternal one, the fount of true and lasting joy.

“Rejoice in the Lord always, I say it again, Rejoice” for the glory of God and salvation of souls.