theROCK

Rejoice in the Lord Always

Gaudete Sunday in Advent is a day to celebrate the joy of anticipating Christmas. The name comes from the Latin word Gaudete, which means, "rejoice." The day's theme is a shift in focus from "The Lord is coming" to "The Lord is near." The excitement for the birth of Jesus was tangible in Mary and Joseph, let us recall our own excitement when we were children, anticipating the beautifully decorated church with lit trees adorning the sanctuary. There is a certain peace in knowing the church draws us into the real reason for Christmas, namely the birth of Jesus. How do we celebrate Advent and the coming of Christ in the form of a newborn child?

Amid the stress of cleaning, baking, decorating, shopping, wrapping, and getting ready for company, often there is little time to experience the joy and peace of Christ’s coming.  Living in a culture of immediate satisfaction, it is very hard for us to slow down, to immerse ourselves in silence and prayer. 

This past summer, as part of a course I took, we attended a 10-day silent Ignatian retreat. We participated in daily Mass, Adoration, and an hour of spiritual direction. Outside of that. . . total silence. Of the five chapels on campus, I found a tiny chapel dedicated to the Annunciation of Mary. A simple but beautiful tabernacle was in the center. I had to silence so many things I carried into the retreat: work, and what was not completed before I left, the news of my younger sister, diagnosed with cancer, and suffering multiple injuries after being hit by a car, and the shock that her 30-year-old son had died unexpectedly. I knew I had to focus on what God had in mind, not what I was carrying. After all, he knew what was heavy on my heart.

I was reminded of today’s scripture from the second reading: “Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition…then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and mind in Christ Jesus” (Phil.4: 6-7). When the 10 days were over, there was an amazing wealth of PEACE in my heart, a peace that I have never experienced. In that peace, I experienced, to this very moment, unexplainable JOY.

It is counter cultural to slow down and place ourselves in silence before Jesus. I invite you dear friends to come to the church or chapel and just sit quietly before the tabernacle and allow God to silence your heart and fill you with JOY. He is waiting, and longs to fill you with his love.

He is Not Hear

“He is not here, he has been raised” (Luke 24:6a). Of all the passages in the bible this is one of my two favorites, the other being the exchange between Jesus and the “good thief.” “He is not here” is short, simple, direct . . . and life changing. It is both mysterious and awe inspiring at the same time. These words of Jesus’ absence from the tomb are meant to comfort.

The first proclamation of the Risen Lord is especially consoling to me and I would venture to others who have lost a loved one. For me, she is not here is a recurrent reality that I still grieve over, even though it has been several years. This time of year, coinciding with the brief illness my wife suffered before her death, always brings me to a special place of attention. Some years, clouds and darkness reign and some years, warmth and sunlight permeate my thoughts. This year, as I pondered the paschal mystery, I stopped on, “He is not here.” It is because He is not here that I can live in joy and hope this Easter season.

Jesus conquered death and, in doing this, opened a way for all who grieve, who have etched into their daily lives that he or she is not here, to experience a place of hope and joy. Because “He is not here,” we can live in this world with a sense of destiny. We do not have to worry as to what will happen to us, what is to become of us. Easter is a time when everything both in heaven and on earth cries out with  new life—a new life we have all been granted as children of God.

I don’t know how the season of Lent has been for you but, from wherever you are coming, it is time to put aside anything that keeps you from rejoicing that He is not here. Step out into the bright morning sunlight and feel its warmth. It is a gift from God, that Jesus our savior and our Lord is not here…He has risen.

Contagious Charitable Service

The morning of ordination to the diaconate I woke to my heart full of peaceful anticipation. As I buttoned the top button on my cleric shirt, my son Zak walked quietly into my room.  Zak asked with enthusiasm if he could put my collar on for me. Of course I agreed and he slipped in the collar, carefully centering it left and right.  Immediately after he was finished, he wrapped his arms around me tightly and gave me one of his best hugs and told me he loved me. After a moment, he stepped back a few steps to take a better look. Zak then burst out laughing in joyful excitement and when he was finished returned to hugging me.

I can remember back four years ago attending the ordination of the class of 2018 as an aspirant and feeling terrified of the thought of being one of the men ordained a deacon; proclaiming the Gospel, preaching, and baptizing. Yikes! As I attended the ordination of the class of 2020, but as a candidate this time, things were transforming inside me. Throughout formation, I had discovered how service done in charity resulted in God pouring affirmations of joy and peace into my heart.

Anyone who prays the Liturgy of the Hours is very familiar with Psalm 100 for Lauds on the Fridays of the first and third weeks of Psalter (Psalm 100:2); Serve the Lord with gladness. Come before him with joyful song. The morning of ordination I discovered that charitable service is also contagious and that God used ordination to pour his joy and peace into my family too. May God make service contagious in our families, our parishes, our communities, and in our world so that people of all nations may sing to the Lord a joyful hymn. May God bless your Sunday!