Christmas Thoughts

It was a great joy to be able to celebrate my first Christmas Mass. One thing that struck me was the fact that pretty much all the communicants at Mass were so joy-filled. May the Infant Jesus find a warm welcome in the hearts of all His people!

A couple of hours after celebrating the Vigil Mass of the Nativity, I tuned in to the Holy Father's homily at his Midnight Mass in St Peter's. If you've not done so already, I really recommend taking a few minutes to read it. This, my friends, is what preaching should be - the fruit of reflection, prayer, study and the guidance of the Holy Spirit:

In some Christmas scenes from the late Middle Ages and the early modern period, the stable is depicted as a crumbling palace. It is still possible to recognize its former splendour, but now it has become a ruin, the walls are falling down - in fact, it has become a stable. Although it lacks any historical basis, this metaphorical interpretation nevertheless expresses something of the truth that is hidden in the mystery of Christmas. David’s throne, which had been promised to last for ever, stands empty. Others rule over the Holy Land. Joseph, the descendant of David, is a simple artisan; the palace, in fact, has become a hovel. David himself had begun life as a shepherd.
When Samuel sought him out in order to anoint him, it seemed impossible and absurd that a shepherd-boy such as he could become the bearer of the promise of Israel. In the stable of Bethlehem, the very town where it had all begun, the Davidic kingship started again in a new way - in that child wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger. The new throne from which this David will draw the world to himself is the Cross. The new throne - the Cross - corresponds to the new beginning in the stable. Yet this is exactly how the true Davidic palace, the true kingship is being built. This new palace is so different from what people imagine a palace and royal power ought to be like. It is the community of those who allow themselves to be drawn by Christ’s love and so become one body with him, a new humanity. The power that comes from the Cross, the power of self-giving goodness - this is the true kingship. The stable becomes a palace - and setting out from this starting-point, Jesus builds the great new community, whose key-word the angels sing at the hour of his birth: “Glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth to those whom he loves” - those who place their will in his, in this way becoming men of God, new men, a new world.

Some preachers allow their learning to become an obstacle to the simple faith of many believers, whilst the Holy Father always draws us further into the meaning of the mystery.

To all my readers, I wish a Happy and a Holy Christmas, and every blessing for the New Year.

Homily for the Vigil Mass of Christmas

A homily for the Vigil Mass of Christmas. This congregation will largely consist of families with children.

Tonight we are waiting. The world has always been waiting. Mankind has always felt the need for salvation; we have always known that things are ‘just not right’ and have called out to God asking Him to intervene and straighten things out.

More than two and a half millennia ago, the prophet Isaiah spoke of this need for salvation. Politically and morally Jerusalem was in a bad way; once again, the Chosen People had turned their back on God. But the Holy Spirit spoke through Isaiah and gave him words of comfort. God would intervene to put things right for mankind – the land that was called Foresaken and Abandoned would receive a new name: My Delight and The Wedded. The Chosen People are called to trust again in the Lord. God would put things right. But how would this be done?

Would God intervene with great power – destroying the evil and rewarding the good? Would He raise up a new king of Israel to establish a state of justice and peace? Hoping for a powerful God who judges is a risky proposition – can we really be confident that we would end up in the right? And, could we ever think that any earthly king or state can put things right, when the real problems of the world are found within human hearts.

The answer that God gives is the reason for our celebration. He does not come in power and might. He does not come as an earthly king. He sends his Holy Spirit to the Virgin Mary and she is found to be with child. He Himself took flesh from the Virgin. This is why the Old Testament calls Him Emmanuel - God is with us. God Himself became a little baby – a baby called Jesus, a name meaning Saviour. And how does He save us? He does not do so with brute power and might, but the strange weapons of weakness, innocence and love – the weapons by which a little baby can win our hearts.

By coming into the world as a child, God makes possible a new relationship with Him. He makes Himself small so that He is no longer far away from us. He shows us that His love for us is so great that He wants to enter into our world, into our lives and make Himself defenceless in front of us.

By coming to us as a baby He invites us to open our hearts to Him. This is where His salvation begins – by driving out hatred, bitterness and sin and replacing it with His love. During the year we will celebrate His teaching, His Passion, His Cross, His Resurrection and His sending of the Holy Spirit – but tonight our focus is on the beginning. At the beginning is the baby. We look at the little baby in the crib and our hearts open; we learn that He is our God and we realise that the whole world has been changed. We know that the world is not Foresaken or Abandoned, but that Heaven and Earth have been wedded to each other, and God has come to change us so that he might truly delight in us. We know that God has come close to us, and has poured His grace and His love into our world, and for that we give thanks on this Holy Night.

Pope Benedict wrote a letter about hope about a month ago which explains what this mystery of the baby in the crib means to us. He writes: Through him we have become certain of God, a God who is not a remote “first cause” of the world, because his only-begotten Son has become man and of him everyone can say: “I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” (Gal 2:20) [Spe Salvi 26]

I’d like to say a word to the children now. I’m sure you’re all very excited about Christmas, about Christmas dinner and sweets and presents and so on. I hope you all have a fun Christmas. But don’t forget what the fuss is really about – take a little time to look at the baby Jesus in the crib – at home or here in the Church. We are celebrating His birthday at Christmas; so take some time to thank Him for coming into the world to be our best friend who helps us to live good and holy lives. Adults, we could do worse than do the same.

And may their first child be a masculine child.

I was delighted to learn yesterday of the betrothal of Lucy and Drew, both of them thoroughly good eggs whom I met in Rome.
Congratulations, guys! May you have a long and happy life together.

A Homily for the Memoria of St Lucy

A homily prepared for a Mass in St Peter's Basilica marking the Memoria of St Lucy and the anniversary of a friend's admission to the Church. Those who attended the Mass received a rather confused version of the homily as I managed to leave my notes in the sacristy.

We celebrate today the feast of St Lucy. According to the old calendar, this was the shortest day of the year; you will have noticed the darkness as we made our way to the basilica. There is therefore a certain irony in this celebration because Lucy's name means light.

This virgin-martyr of Syracuse is particularly celebrated in the northern countries, which makes it is fitting that this day be the one on which we should also be celebrating with Q the anniversary of her admission to the Church because of her Scandinavian heritage.

I have mentioned the irony that we should be celebrating this feast of Lucy, the woman of light, in the depths of winter. However, the Church’s liturgical year plays itself out over the course of the solar year, and a certain relationship of harmony and counterpoint exists between the two. What better time to mark the arrival of Christ the light of the world, than the time when the light offered to us by the world is at its dimmest? Our celebration of St Lucy, the saint of light, should remind us that Christians are guided by a light which is not of this world.

Those of you who are familiar with the traditional iconography will know that St Lucy is frequently depicted with her eyes on a platter. This is because the early accounts of her martyrdom tell us that prior to being killed her eyes were gouged out. However, despite this she remained firm. The fact that the eyes of her body were dimmed casts into greater relief that there is a higher form of seeing, and another sort of vision. By her blindness, St Lucy showed herself to be stronger and more farseeing than her persecutors. By keeping the eyes of her soul fixed on the light of Christ, her perseverance and her bravery, the example of her faith and her chastity give a testimony which shone forth like a light and won the admiration of Christian and pagan alike.

And so it should be for us. We are Christians living in the world, but as Pope Benedict reminds us, the great hope of our life is not of this world. Our calling is to find the light which guides our steps in the child of Bethlehem, born into the darkness of a winter in obscure provincial town, seemingly bringing little to the world. Compared to the great men of his time and judged by the standards of the world, the birth of this baby must have seemed an irrelevance. However, these great men are now by and large forgotten, whilst the Child of Bethlehem has marked human history in a way unequalled by any other.

And yet, despite His importance by the standards of secular history, the true significance of God made man is not at all evident to worldly eyes. Only by the eyes of our faith can we understand and see His true significance. This is the centre of our lives as Christians. This contemplation of Christ, this allowing ourselves to be guided by the hidden light is what is important. Let us never allow the demands and noise of this world get in the way of it. This is no abandonment of the world however – rather it is central to the Church’s work of bringing sanctification and salvation to this world. She shines as a beacon bringing the light of Christ to the world the more she contemplates her Saviour. We see this written large in the martyrdom of St Lucy. Her dedication to Christ and her resolve to walk by His light alone meant that her steadfastness and bravery shone forth and was recognized by the world. Her devotion to Him allowed his flame to set fire to other hearts. May we never forget that the more we concern ourselves with the Christ who is hidden rather than with our own affairs, the brighter it His light will shine in the world.

A Homily to be Preached at a Public Mass in Convent of Augustinian Nuns

3rd December 2007 - Monday of the 1st Week of Advent (Readings)
[Please pray that this will still be understandable when I render it into Italian]

Sisters and brothers, we find ourselves at the start of the new liturgical year, during the season of Advent. This word Advent comes from the Latin verb advenio and refers to the arrival or coming of the Lord. It is a time of preparation and expectation. Despite not having the strong penitential character of Lent, it is a sober time and one during which we are encouraged to have a conversion of heart in order that we might be ready to welcome the Lord when he comes. In short, Advent is a time of hope – because the Lord is faithful to his promises, and therefore our preparations will not be in vain.
It is therefore very fitting that the Holy Father should give us as an Advent-present his new Encyclical Letter, Spe Salvi. He addresses us his words on Christian hope, as we enter this period which is built around the hope of the Christian in the Coming of the Lord.

But what do we mean by the Coming of the Lord? Has not the Lord already come? Is Advent not just the preparation for Christmas, the feast that celebrates the Son of God entering the world? This is true, but our focus is elsewhere during the first half of Advent. We are invited to reflect on the Second Coming of the Lord. The word Advent, Adventus, translates into Greek as Parousia – the word used to refer to coming of the Lord in glory and judgement at the end of times. Looking around the world, we see that there is much injustice and suffering – and if history is to make sense, then there is need for a final, decisive intervention from above. What else does Isaiah mean when he speaks of “the blast of judgement and the blast of destruction” when “Lord will come and rest on the whole stretch of Mount Zion and on those who are gathered there, a cloud by day, and smoke, and by night the brightness of a flaring fire.”

The image is terrifying – but we must not be afraid. It is not intended as a threat but it is a call to responsibility and hope. The Holy Father tells us, “From the earliest times, the prospect of the Judgement has influenced Christians in their daily living as a criterion by which to order their present life, as a summons to their conscience, and at the same time as hope in God's justice.” (Spe Salvi, 41)
We hear the Lord speak of this same hour of justice in the Gospel when he says “many will come from east and west to take their places with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob at the feast in the kingdom of heaven.” Do not forget, He makes this promise in response to the astonishing faith of the Centurion. Let us take this Centurion as our model and welcome the Lord with humility. If we trust in Him and His justice, He we can be sure that will guide us through this season of preparation and make firm within us His hope.

St Ephraim the Syrian on Satan's Fear of Christ

I stumbled across this today, and was very taken by it:
Nisibene Hymn No 39

1. There have come to me ransomers from among the saints, but none has plundered me like the Son of Mary. For lo! Elijah brought a dead man to life; and even though he himself escaped from my hands, yet had I consolation after him, for the dead man whom he quickened, I carried off from him. By Elisha son of Shaphat, I was beaten as with rods, for he brought two dead men to life. By one staff I in turn bore away both the prophet and the dead whom he had raised.

R., Blessed is He Who cleft the tombs of Sheol by His voice!

2. I feared him even Gehazi when I saw, him lay the staff upon the youth. The thief took the staff away and returned; Elisha came and bowed himself; laid himself low as the child and raised himself up, and walked hither and thither. I marvelled at the new mysteries which I saw there, which restored but one youth to life. It was well with me then when those were but mysteries, and not now when the dead have rebelled and conquered me.

3. Moses when I saw the mighty splendour upon his face, I feared him: yet not according to what I feared befell it me. Nisan in Sheol he caused to spring for me; for a pasture, a pasture of corpses, of six hundred thousand fell.—This lowly and despised whom I contemned, has healed the sick and the diseased: to others He has multiplied bread, but our bread even ours from our mouths He snatches.

4. A mighty feast there was in Sheol, when I swallowed up Korah and his company. A great delight Satan made for me, when he made strife among the Levites. A fount of milk and honey, made he flow for me in a dry place, when the congregation of transgressors went down to Sheol.—Lo! the righteous have lived and come forth: Moses sent down the living thither, but Jesus has revived and brought up the dead.

5. It was well with me then, in the day of the zealous, those in whose swords I had delight. Phinehas the zealous pierced and gave me, on the head of his spear for my delight, Zimri and Cozbi both together; on the head of his lance he presented them to me. To whom then were there ever two fatted oxen, offered on the head of a spear?—But instead of Cozbi, daughter of princes, the daughter of Jairus has Jesus rescued from my hands.

6. The censer of Aaron caused me to fear, for he stood between the dead and the living and conquered me. The Cross causes me to fear more exceedingly, which has rent open the graves of Sheol. The Crucified Whom on it I slew, now by Him am I slain. Not very great is his reproach, who is overcome by a warrior in arms. Worse to me is my reproach than my torment, in that by a crucified man my strength has been overcome.

7. The lance of Phinehas again has caused me to fear, for by the slaughter he wrought with it he hindered the pestilence. The lance guarded the tree of life, it made me glad and made me sad; it hindered Adam from life, and it hindered death from the people. But the lance that pierced Jesus, by it I have suffered; He is pierced and I groan. There came out from Him water and blood; Adam washed and lived and returned to Paradise.

8. The Sadducees were as a mouth for me, and disputed with Him after my mind, that there is no rising of the dead at all. Jesus answered them in a saying, which I alone understood; He spoke aloud the hateful word and saddened me,"I am the God of him even of Abraham, and God is not the God of the dead." It was well with me then these were but words, and He had not yet showed me the life of the dead indeed.

9. Jesus son of Nun, slew thirty kings, and filled the graves and pits for me; he laid waste Jericho and filled Sheol. But this Jesus who is come, has wasted the graves of their dead, and has filled the cities of the upper world. Wherefore thus when lo! they are like in their names, are they unlike in their doings? That gave me the body of Achor, but this snatched from me the body of Lazarus.

10. Moses trod down that Egyptian, with his meekness he mingled justice. Whence has this new law sprung for me, "If one smite you on your cheek, turn to him your other cheek, and see that you hate him not?" Instead of the strong man of zeal who trod down and slew, a new man of mercy has risen for us. Samuel hewed Agag in pieces, but Jesus healed the paralytic.

11. Tender mercy which had as it were waxed less, lo! in this time has waxed great. And moreover it was then detested, lest through it one should transgress the commandment; for without mercy Saul and Ahab, were slain because they desired, to have mercy on the evil ones, and they were not slain who were deserving of punishment. In my time Jesus has changed this, by giving life to all men and having compassion on His slayers.

12. I remember Samson that lion's whelp, who broke and gave me the pillars of Philistia; also that mighty man of valor Abner son of Ner, took for me that fleet wild roe, Asahel son of Zeruiah, and smote him and cast him on the ground. Benaiah in the holy temple slew Jacob, justly as it is written.—Because justice has restrained her sword, henceforth penitents shall rejoice in grace.

13. David measured the Edomites, by line and line and destroyed them. How merciful then are You, O Son of David! David's justice was twofold, when he put to death two lines, and saved one full line alive.—Lo! the Son of David teaches us, "Forgive your brother even unto seventy times seven." There justice was measured; but here clemency is without measure.

14. Of zeal and strength David was possessed; the lion and the bear he slew together. He left that mighty lion and hasted, to meet the strong giant. With a stone he quenched his light, and his soul left him and he perished. But Jesus cried to the young man that was dead "Young man!" Even the dead to Him are sleepers. That young man He brought to life and rescued from me. The despised swine He drowned for me in the sea.

15. The Levites slew because of the calf, their fathers and their brethren. Jephthah by his own hands was ready to slay his daughter. The King of Moab on the wall, was sacrificing his first-born son: In presence of his sword I rejoice.—By Jesus the sword was blunted; yea the fever was rebuked, the sister of Sheol: the mother-in-law of Simeon was healed, but the fame of her healing smote Sheol with pain.

16. This Jesus though he be the Son of the Just One, all that He preaches is grace. But to me this His grace is torment. Envy is the cause of pleasure to us, for Envy at the beginning mixed for me the first shedding of blood. Why is it guilty in the sight of the Son of Mary Who is come commanding,"You shall not be angry against your brother?" He has taken away the sword from between brethren; while in the sword of Cain I had pleasure from the beginning.

17. An honeycomb in the midst of the skeleton, Samson found—was it then a mystery? This Jesus has multiplied for us mysteries. Amid billows of mysteries have I fallen, which show me in parable the life of the dead, in all mysteries and in all types. "Out of the eater came forth meat" was Samson's parable. But to me it has befallen contrariwise; for the eater has come forth to me out of the meat, for out of Adam lo! has come the Son of Adam Who has destroyed me.

18. Just men likewise have robbed me manifold, when by them was preached the rising of the dead: but they mingled with my sorrows great consolation. By the prayer of Asa and Hezekiah, I was fed upon the dead, yea I feasted upon corpses. Elijah slew the prophets of Baal and gave them to me, who on the bread of Jezebel had waxed fat. The righteous has constrained me to devour, but Jesus has compelled me to disgorge all that I had eaten.

19. I was afraid because of the sprinkled blood, which Moses sprinkled on every door; for though the blood of the slain, it was that which saved the living. Blood from of old I feared not, save that blood that was on the doors, and this moreover that was on the Tree. The blood of the slain is a delight, and is as sweet perfume: but the blood of Jesus is to me a terror; for whenever I come and smell His blood, the savour of life that lurks therein terrifies me.

20. Priests and pontiffs, anointed men and kings, who foreshow types of the rising of the dead, have never triumphed through their crosses. Crowns and diadems were set on them; and when I engaged in struggles with them, I was smitten sometimes and sometimes also I smote. But this carpenter's son with his crown of thorns, has humbled and cast down my pride, in His shame and His dying: Sheol has seen Him, yea, and fled from before Him.

21. When the sea saw Moses and fled, it feared because of his rod, and likewise because of his glory. His splendour and his rod and his power, the rock also saw which was cleft. But Sheol when her graves were rent, what saw she in Him even in Jesus?—Instead of splendour He put on the paleness of the dead and made her tremble. And if His paleness when slain slew her, how shall she be able to endure, when He comes to raise the dead, in His Glory!

Storm in a Chalice...

It's difficult to understand why this is news:

PRIESTS fear that altar wine will put them over the legal limit, making it impossible for them to drive to conduct essential duties.
Those working alone in rural churches fear that they may be over the legal limit if they have to drive to give the last rites to parishioners.
One priest in a rural north Galway parish said he sometimes has to finish the wine left over in the chalices. He feels that this could put him over the limit if he had to drive afterwards.
According to church law, wine which has been consecrated must be consumed as part of the Mass.
"What option do I have but drink the wine, as the chalices have to be emptied before being put back in the tabernacle?" he said.
"The only other possibility would be to ask some members of the congregation to drink the excess wine. This would be unseemly and certainly not Church practice."

What a non-story... If that is a worry for the priest, then all he need do is consecrate a sip of wine for himself. Given that the administration of Communion under both species is very much the exception rather than the rule in Ireland, there's no question of people being upset that the chalice isn't made availible.
At least we can give Fr Brian Darcy credit for making one thing clear:

"Perhaps it could be enough for you to fail a drink-driving test. I don't like to use the word wine, as it is Christ's blood in the Eucharist -- but it still has all the characteristics of wine when in the blood stream."

A more serious problem, and one that is more difficult to resolve, is highlighted later in the report:

Priests in larger towns and cities may be affected too according to Fr Stephen Farragher, administrator in Tuam.
"I would often have three Masses to say in the one day and while I had not thought about the impact of drinking the wine, it is probably now a factor that needs to be seriously considered," he said.

Obviously it is contrary to Canon Law that a priest be expected to trinate on any day other than a Sunday. This is a problem for the Church in Ireland. In the planning of Mass-schedules and so on, priests need to be more careful about taking into account the Church's regulations on bination and trination, and episcopal leadership on this would be very welcome. I remember being impressed by this letter of Bishop Martino of Scranton, and think that the Irish Church would benefit from a similar reminder:

It is the Church’s ancient discipline and practice that, except for very special occasions like Christmas and All Souls Day, her priests celebrate only one Mass a day. So august is God’s gift of the Eucharist, so important is the spiritual preparation for it, so careful and attentive must its celebration be, and so essential the thanksgiving to be made afterward as priests carry forth its grace to the rest of their ministry, that the multiplication of this central act in a priest’s daily life runs the risk of diminishing the value he places on it. Such a danger imperils the whole community of faith along with its priest. The law, therefore, is not an arbitrary one. It provides an essential means of fostering the holiness of the Church’s faithful.
And yet the Church, ever solicitous for the spiritual needs of the faithful and mindful of the shortage of clergy, gives its bishops the authority to permit priests, for a just cause, to celebrate two Masses on weekdays and, for a true pastoral necessity, even three Masses on a Sunday or holy day of obligation. Our priests have had this permission and they now have it from me. However, I cannot allow the limits of this permission to be exceeded. As your Bishop, I must ask you to accept the decision of your priest when he tells you that he cannot offer another Mass on a particular day.
Appeals to practicality, convenience, or long-term contrary custom must not be allowed to derail this effort. All of us – but I, especially, as your Bishop – are gravely obliged to be stewards of the Church’s mysteries and the age-old discipline that has been fashioned to preserve them.