Showing posts with label rejoice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rejoice. Show all posts

Monday, April 1, 2024

Easter Octave Monday 2024 - This is the day that the Lord has made.

Throughout the octave of easter, we hear an echoed refrain from Psalm 118: “This is the day the LORD has made; let us be glad and rejoice in it.” Psalm 118 was the responsorial psalm on easter Sunday, and we hear it echoed each day of the octave in the Gospel acclamation. We also find it in the responsory at morning prayer, for those who pray the liturgy of the hours.

“This is the day the LORD has made; let us be glad and rejoice in it.” I remember singing this attending Easter Masses as a young boy, and it still fills me with joy.

These words capture the very essence of what we celebrate during this sacred time. Easter Sunday marked the culmination of God's plan of salvation, the day when Christ triumphed over sin and death, and opened for us the gates of eternal life. It was, indeed, the day the Lord had made, the day that changed the course of human history forever.

But the joy of Easter is not confined to a single day. The Church, in her wisdom, gives us an entire Octave to contemplate and celebrate the resurrection of our Lord. Eight days of uninterrupted rejoicing, eight days to allow the reality of Christ's victory to sink into our hearts and transform our lives.

And so, each day of this Octave, we repeat this refrain, reminding ourselves that every day is a gift from God, a chance to participate in the new life that Christ has won for us. Every day, we are called to live as Easter people, to allow the light of the resurrection to dispel the darkness of our world.

Throughout this week, as we hear the accounts of the risen Christ appearing to his disciples, as we witness the transformation of doubt into faith, fear into courage, and sorrow into joy, we are reminded that the power of the resurrection is not meant to be a distant memory but a present reality. “This” is the day the Lord has made. Not just easter Sunday, but today. Because the newness of life begun at easter continues to unfold in our lives when we act as people of faith—when we allow our easter faith to animate our lives.

Each day, as we face our own challenges, struggles, and doubts, we are called to remember that Christ has overcome the world and that, in Him, we too can be victorious—when we allow our Christian identity—our union with the risen Christ to transform, animate, and guide.

So let us make this refrain our own, not just during this Easter Octave but every day of our lives. Let us wake up each morning with the conviction that "this is the day the LORD has made" and resolve to "be glad and rejoice in it." Let us allow the joy of the resurrection to permeate our thoughts, words, and actions, and let us share that joy with all those we encounter. Alleluia! He is Risen! For the glory of God and the salvation of souls.

- - - - - 

Filled with Paschal joy, let us turn to earnestly to God, to graciously hear our prayers and supplications.

For the shepherds of our souls, that they may have the strength to govern wisely the flock entrusted to them by the Good Shepherd.

For the whole world, that it may truly know the peace of the Risen Christ. 

For our own community, that it may bear witness with great confidence to the Resurrection of Christ, and that the newly initiated hold fast to the faith they have received. 

For our brothers and sisters who suffer, that their sorrow may be turned to gladness through the Christian faith.

That all of our beloved dead and all the souls in purgatory may come to the glory of the Resurrection.

O God, you know that our life in this present age is subject to suffering and need, hear the desires of those who cry to you and receive the prayers of those who believe in you. Through Christ our lord.


Monday, December 18, 2023

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.


Sunday, December 15, 2019

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.