Sunday January 1st 2012

There will be no translation this Sunday. Normal service will resume next week! Happy Christmas and a peaceful new year to everyone!

The Nativity of Our Lord,   Christmas Day 2011

John 1:1-18

Translated from a homily by Don Fabio Rosini, broadcast on Vatican Radio

Questions raised by this passage from the Gospel

1. Do we continue to think of God as a distant spirit, despite his incarnation that we celebrate at Christmas?

2. What exactly is the glory of God? How do we behold it?

3. Is the glory of God manifested to us in a triumphalist way, or in the mind-blowing humility that God shows towards us?

4. If the God who made the cosmos makes himself nothing in order to be with you and me, then what does that make us?

5. How can an appreciation of how much God was willing to empty himself for me help me to understand who I truly am?

6. If God was willing to become a human being, then how important is it for you and me to be human beings?

St John's Gospel begins with abstract-sounding concepts, but comes to a climax with the incarnation of God!

At the Mass for Christmas Day, we read the lyrical Prologue from St John's Gospel. These verses act as a key for the entire Gospel and proclaim the momentous event of the sending of the Word from the Father.  We are told that everything was made through the Word, and everything receives its substance from Him. We are told that He is life, and that this life is the light of all people.

            Here we have various concepts beautifully interwoven: life, the created world, light shining in darkness. Light gives life, and life is received through a light that is sent to us from God. These concepts might seem very abstract, and one might feel that there is a difficult code here that has to be broken. But then the poetic hymn comes to a climax at verse fourteen, which is the very verse that we celebrate at Christmas: "The Word was made flesh and he lives among us". After the abstract-sounding initial description of the Word, we suddenly hear that he became flesh! And he came to live among us!

            But let us recall where the Prologue departed from. At the beginning of the passage, we had heard the Word described as the light that illuminates every person. This light was sent from God and is life-giving. In order to be life-giving, it must be accepted. And then we are told that this Word took on human flesh. Thus He is not some sort of legendary myth, but is a concrete person. He took on flesh, thus he is not simply a spirit, but is flesh and blood like we are. He came to live among us, thus he is not distant from us.

What exactly is the glory of God? How do we behold it?

The passage from St John's Gospel continues: "And we saw his glory". So we encounter a person - concrete flesh and blood - and we contemplate his glory.  This term "glory" needs to be explained. It does not refer to some sort of ostentatious or triumphalist exhibition. In Hebrew the word for glory is kabod, and refers to the weight or value of something. The glory of God is his authentic value. To contemplate the glory of God is to recognize his true worth. Sometimes we see the genuine glory of a person - not in moments of success or triumph - but in difficult moments when he is challenged to respond to adversity. John says in his Prologue that we have seen the glory of the Lord. What is he referring to here? Later in the Gospel, we discover that this glory was manifested on the cross and in the resurrection. But the point that is important for us now at Christmas is that God has made himself visible and tangible. The first letter of St John speaks of that which our eyes have seen, our ears have heard and our hands have touched. In other words, we have sensible contact with God. Christmas announces that God is at arm's reach, that he is here among us, that it is not true that he is distant from us. The experience that has been transmitted to us by the Christians of the first century who had direct contact with the Lord is that God is not a concept to be understood, but is a baby that was born in humble circumstances, and who has grown up among us. Where does God manifest himself? In a life like ours! The fact that he has manifested himself in this way makes it possible for each of us to behold the glory of God. The fact that Jesus became flesh shows that it is not true that our existence is one that must be rescued from the flesh, but rather that our flesh itself has been redeemed. Our flesh has become the temple of the Holy Spirit.

            It is no longer the case that we must wait until we go to paradise to behold the glory of God. We have the experience of concretely experiencing God here on earth. He has made himself visible. Christianity is more than a series of values. There are values involved in being a Christian, but they are derivative of an encounter with a concrete person. The shepherds found this person in the most banal of circumstances - a child with its mother - and we too can find him in these most normal of circumstances.

The glory of God is revealed in his emptying of himself to make real contact with each of us

If I understand the flesh of Christ, then I understand my own. If I see the glory of God, then I begin to understand my own value and relevance. If I begin to appreciate how much God was willing to empty himself in order to be close to me, then I begin to understand who I truly am. Through the act of beholding him, I behold my own dignity. Here we are not speaking solely of an experience of the generosity of God. If the God who made the cosmos, who formed the galaxies, makes himself nothing in order to be with you and me, then what does that make us? This is what Christmas proclaims.

            How many wrong ideas we have about God! If we wish to know him better, then look at him this Christmas. Look at how humble he is, how available he is, completely given, entirely gift. Let us rejoice in this gift; let us rejoice that the Lord became flesh. If the Lord became flesh, then how important it is to have a body! How relevant it is to have flesh and to be alive. As John Paul II said, if God was not displeased to become a human being, then how truly important it must be to be a human being!

Fourth Sunday of Advent (December 18^th 2011)  

Luke 1:26-38

Translated from a homily by Don Fabio Rosini, broadcast on Vatican Radio

Questions raised by this passage from the Gospel

1. Who are the angels that have led us in the way of the faith?

2. The angel describes Mary as the one who has been highly favoured. In what sense are our lives too filled with grace?

3. When we are confronted by distressing circumstances, do we continue to hold firm to our faith and try to see how these difficult circumstances fit into God's plan?

4. Is what way are my daily actions driven by fear?

5. Does faith consist in the ability to face tribulation on my own, or is it better described as the ability to lean on the One who is stronger?

6. What marvellous work does the Lord wish to accomplish in me?

Faith has its origin in heaven and is prompted in us by angels, both supernatural and natural

This wonderful text describes how our redemption is set in motion by Mary's acceptance of the word of God. In Luke's Gospel, Mary is presented as the model of faith, the one who possessed faith in its fullness. No other creature in history had faith as she had it. Reflection on this passage is like attending a "school of faith" where the most blessed among women teaches us how it is done.

            The passage begins with the appearance of an angel. When we contemplate the faith of Mary and its fecundity, we must keep in mind that faith has its origin in heaven and is borne by angels or messengers. The angel Gabriel was sent by God. If we happen to be Christians, then it is because we have received the faith from other Christians, angels who have taught us in the ways of the faith. Maybe our angels were our own parents, who made a commitment at their wedding to raise their children in the faith, and who took the vows on our behalf when we were baptized. We are surrounded by angels, those that are natural and those that are supernatural.

            The angel Gabriel appears to Mary as she stands at a crossroads in her life. She is a virgin, betrothed to a man of the House of David. She is not just any girl, anywhere in the world. The whole of the Old Testament stands in the background of this encounter with the angel. The angel says "Rejoice o highly favoured! The Lord is with you!"

Mary was full of grace, but our lives also are filled with grace and we too have reason for rejoicing

The joyful aspect of this greeting cannot be over-emphasized. The angel is saying, "What happy news! The Lord is on your side! Be cheerful, wonderful things are happening in your life!" The angel tells Mary to rejoice because she is full of grace, but it is also true for all of us that are lives are filled with grace! There are so many good things that we ought to rejoice about! Why do we allow ourselves to be sad or disheartened because of a few aspects of our lives that we decide are all-important? The amount of people who become dejected because they are dissatisfied with how they look! But the angel tells us, "Be joyful, leave sadness behind! Stop thinking that you are far from the grace of God! How generous God is with us! Let us open our eyes to how good and patient the Lord is with us! He doesn't treat us according to our sins. He continually leads us in the way of salvation! Rejoice, rejoice!"

Faith is not against reason but involves reasoning with the noblest part of our soul

Mary is disturbed with the greeting that the angel gives her. But if an angel appeared to any of us we would be bothered! The Greek term for "disturbed" that appears in the original text indicates that Mary was not just slightly uneasy about the angel's greeting but was extremely troubled on an interior level. But Mary does not allow this distress to overcome her. She asks herself what such a greeting could mean. In other words she continues to reason, aware that God must continually surprise us, shake us, and astonish us in order to complete his plan for us. This point is very important. Faith does not entail the abandonment of reason but the correct use of reason. It involves reasoning with the noblest part of our soul, and the uncovering of the most beautiful aspect of ourselves. When life confronts us with difficulties, then we are prompted to develop, grow, ask ourselves questions like what sense do these things have in our lives? Where is God trying to lead me?

The work of God cannot be accomplished in us if we give in to fear

The angel replies "Do not be afraid". This phrase is the hallmark of the angels and appears again and again in the Old Testament. It highlights the fact that the work of God cannot be accomplished in us if we give in to fear. Fear is a poor counsellor, a bad teacher, the worst companion of life, and in reality is often based on self-deception. There are healthy fears and unhealthy fears. It is normal and right to have a sense of danger in certain situations. In Greek culture, the word for fear is "phobos", but Phobos was actually a God who was responsible for making people run away, or take evasive action. And it is true that fear often guides our actions in a decisive way. Many of our actions are motivated by our attempts to flee from something. Our desires are often camouflaged fears. We think we have carried out an action in order to achieve a certain goal, but in reality we are seeking a refuge from one of our fears. It is not possible to arrive at the glory that the Lord has destined for each of us if we continue to be instructed, hampered and driven by fear.

Faith does not consist in being strong in oneself, but in the ability to lean on the One who is stronger

We must stop seeking refuges in which to hide from fear, and instead start seeking to fulfil the plan that God has destined for us. We must stop living like refugees and start living like pilgrims. How do we manage this? How can we conquer our fears? How can we overcome the threats - genuine or otherwise - that encircle us? The angel does not simply say, "Do not be afraid, Mary". He also adds, " . . .because you have found favour with God". We do not have to overcome fear on our own merits. The angel reminds us that there is someone on whom we can lean. According to Psalm 23, "If I walk through the valley of death I will not fear". The psalm doesn't say that the valley of death does not exist, but that the Lord will be with me in that valley.

            Faith does not consist in being strong in oneself, but in the ability to lean on the One who is stronger. Faith is not a state of existence in which no risks or dangers present themselves; but involves knowing how to entrust one's existence to the Lord in moments of danger. Faith is knowing how to cross the valley of death with the Lord.

The works of God are always of a marvellous sort, and so it is with the works that God wishes to accomplish in each of us.

In this moment of conquering of fear, a marvellous work will be realized. From Mary the Messiah will be generated. In Mary the period of waiting that is represented by the Old Testament will come to its fulfilment. Mary asks how exactly all of this will come about, and the angel replies that it will be accomplished by the Holy Spirit. "Your question is very pertinent Mary", the angel is telling her. "The way in which this work will be completed will not be by human means, but in a marvellous and extraordinary way". The angel then refers to Elizabeth conceiving a child when she was sterile. The works of God are of this sort, the angel is saying. A man is born of a virgin. A man comes out of the tomb. God creates the world from nothing. These are the "impossible" works that God wishes to accomplish in all of us. If we do not in our daily lives open ourselves to the extraordinary works of God, then we reduce Christianity to a series of moral precepts and questionable philosophies. The arena in which God operates is the arena of the extraordinary. Sometimes we try to interpret and explain the works of God so that they sound plausible. But I do not follow the Lord in order to achieve something that was already plausible. We do not give our lives for something that we could have done by ourselves on our own merits. No. God calls us to extraordinary things. And Christmas is not just the celebration of a family festivity that makes us feel better. Christmas is about believing that God can truly enter into our existence. To this eruption of the divine in our lives, we can rightly say "Come Lord! Let the extraordinary enter into our existence!"

            Mary's reply to the angel is not just a simple granting of permission for the Lord to be conceived. Mary's expression reveals a powerful desire on her part. "Let it be done onto me according to your word!" This Sunday we too can say, "Come Lord, enter into my life! Scatter the petty designs that have me rooted to the ground in fear! Help me open myself to your plan. I want your extraordinary grace to erupt in my life!"

Third Sunday of Advent (December 11^th 2011)     

John 1:6-8, 19-28

Translated from a homily by Don Fabio Rosini, broadcast on Vatican Radio

Questions raised by this passage from the Gospel

1. Gaudete Sunday challenges us to reflect on the meaning of real joy. What is the difference between joy and pleasure?

2. In what sense do we prefer to live in the shadows? In what way does the light of Christ show up the ambiguities and compromises in our lives?

3. Is it easy and natural for us to embrace the true light, or does it involve a challenging renunciation of old ways?

4. Can we learn from the example of John the Baptist and stop placing ourselves at the centre of our world? In what way can this help the light to enter our lives?

Gaudete Sunday challenges us to reflect on the meaning of real joy.

Gaudete Sunday is traditionally the Sunday of rejoicing in the coming of the Lord. What exactly is real joy? Real joy is something different to a feeling of dizziness or light-headedness! We tend to confuse true joy with the times in which we reward ourselves with momentary pleasures. Joy brings a certain pleasure of its own, but pleasure for the sake of itself fails to bring joy of any sort and can lead to emptiness. In life we are always confronted with the issue of choosing the greater joy. Man is always seeking joy, happiness, fullness. But just what is the fullness of joy?

            This passage from Chapter One of John's Gospel refers to the beginning of the ministry of John the Baptist. We are told that John himself was not the light, but came to bear witness to the light, so that all might believe through him. The first thing we note in this text is that the light is something that comes into the world. I do not possess it of myself, but must await for its arrival. It must be bestowed on me as a gift. The first act of God's creation was "Let there be light!" God's creation begins with the appearance of light, and this Gospel also links redemption to the shining of light in the world.

True joy is impossible if we live in the shadows with a distorted perspective on reality. True joy requires immersion in the fullness of light

To enter into the joy that this Sunday's liturgy represents, we need someone who will bear witness to the light. We need to come to believe in the light, but the problem is that we have a reluctance to accept the light. We feel more secure in the shadows, where we can hide our compromises and ambiguities. False joy involves avoiding the light and having a distorted perspective on reality. Full joy, on the other hand, is possible wherever there is fullness of light. All of us have received witness to this light; we have heard the good news about it, and, through our faith, we have being issued with a call to enter into the battle of either accepting or refusing the true light.

What does it mean to believe in the light?

What does accepting the true light mean? It means to believe in the good, to believe in salvation, to believe in the love of God, in the fullness of our existence. It means to believe in the redemption of our past; to believe that everything in our lives can become light, can become useful, can become salvation and mission, peace, pardon, and encounter with God. We tend to resist this light and we need someone like John the Baptist to cry out "Look at the light! Look at the goodness of God manifested in your existence! That which happened in your past and that weighs you down can be resolved and healed completely! It is never true that a person's situation is hopeless! It is never true that things are as banal and empty as they might appear to us. Believe in the light! Open your eyes and fix your gaze on the invisible. That light is not the light of this world but another greater light."

           

Accepting the light means turning away from the darkness

No one can enter into joy without renouncing his own vision of things. No one enters the full joy of God unless he denies the "light" of the old man. We must turn away from the partial perspective, the narrow interpretation, the infantile viewpoint, the idolatrous approach to life that we have closeted ourselves in. The joy that is coming into the world at Christmas is a joy that conquers darkness. When someone is in the shadows and is exposed to bright light, his eyes hurt. Full light is a terrifying thing because it unmasks the ambiguities and unsavoury things that lie in the darkness. The true joy that can never be lost is not compatible with a life filled with ambiguities and compromises. When figures like John the Baptist bear witness to the light, they urge us to be ready to embrace the struggle that this involves. They say, "Do not despair; do not lose faith; do not be intimidated by shadows and darkness, by damaging words, by the negative voices that assail the heart of man".

Humility is a virtue that allows the light to enter our lives and take centre stage

One of the distinctive characteristics of John the Baptist is his humility. The first thing he wishes to make clear is that he is not the Christ. He does this despite the fact that people were coming to him in droves from Jerusalem. It would have been easy for him to have taken central stage and enjoyed some of the attention and glory. What a marvellous character! A man who knew how to bear witness to someone greater; who knew how to place himself on the periphery so that the truth might prosper. That is how light enters our lives too, when we take example from John the Baptist and stop placing ourselves at the centre of things; when we stop treating ourselves as absolutes. Humility - the honest recognition of one's limits and peripheral role - often brings peace to our lives. When we take ourselves too seriously, we take the weight of the world on our shoulders, like the mythical Atlas. But I am not the Christ, I am not the centre of things. Rather I am the one that is in need of salvation. I am one who needs to speak of another, and never of myself. All of the saints knew how to speak of the Lord, and never confused themselves with the true light. Humility is a great virtue. It is such a joy to be in the company of a humble person, and so trying to be with someone who is full of their own importance!

Second Sunday of Advent (December 4^th 2011)   

Mark 1:1-8

Translated from a homily by Don Fabio Rosini, broadcast on Vatican Radio

Questions raised by this passage from the Gospel

1. Whose ways need to be straightened? The Lord's, or ours?

2. In what sense do we make it difficult for the Lord to enter our lives? In what sense do we "make crooked" the entrance of God into our daily existence?

3. What are the daily compromises in my life that impede the Lord from coming?

4. Is the Advent transformation from ambiguity to authenticity a painful process, or can it also be a life-giving and uplifting experience?

The Gospel is built upon the foundation of a period of conversion

Advent refers to the time of arrival of the Lord himself. The first line of the oldest of the Gospels – that of St. Mark – speaks of the "beginning" of the Good News of Jesus Christ. The word for "beginning" in Greek signifies "foundation". According to St Mark, the foundation of the proclamation of the Gospel of Jesus consists in the sending ahead of a messenger who will prepare the way of the Lord - a voice crying in the wilderness that will make His paths straight. Jesus, apparently, cannot come until John the Baptist has prepared the way; God cannot enter our lives unless our existence goes through a transformation of a certain sort, and this transformation is initiated by a messenger - one who has the role of preparing the way. The English text uses the term "messenger" to translate the original Greek word "angel". An angel is one who has been sent; one who must announce or proclaim a message.

Whose ways must be straightened? The Lord's, or ours?

God enters our lives through this character, John the Baptist, who has been given the role of preparing the way, of straightening the path. Whose ways does the text intend to refer to? Sometimes when we hear this Gospel we think that it is our ways that need to be straightened. We surmise that we are being asked to straighten out a few personal problems and bad habits. But this is not the full story. The fundamental point is that we must prepare the way for Him. In the ancient text from the prophet Isaiah, the verb "prepare" ("prepare in the wilderness a way for the Lord") means to "turn one's face" to the ways of the Lord; to stop being fixated with our own ways and to be attentive to the ways of the Lord. To begin to turn away from our own projects and plans and to turn towards His plans. To "prepare the way of the Lord", thus, does not so much mean to sort out a few bad habits before the Lord comes, but to make ourselves available for what He wishes to do with us, what He wishes to accomplish in our lives. So we have to make the Lord's way's straight. But why? Are the Lord's ways crooked? They are only crooked in the sense that we have twisted them! We have "domesticated" the Lord's ways and subordinated them to our own designs. The human being tends to view the world from the point of view of his own interests, and he tries to manipulate reality towards his own ends, his own rewards, his own needs. In this way, he transforms reality into a thing into which the Lord cannot enter. Man organises his existence in such a way that he has as much control over it as possible. In this way he makes crooked the way of the Lord and impedes God from entering. On the face of things, God might appear to have a place in this world of our own making. Perhaps we have relegated Him to forty-five inattentive minutes on a Sunday. Often, we domesticate God into an artificial corner of our lives and prevent Him from having a significant influence on our existence.

John the Baptist asks us to confront the comprises that impede the Lord from coming

We are experts in making the ways of the Lord crooked. The fact is that we fear the eruption of God into our lives, and we expend much effort in making His entrance as tortuous as possible. Then along comes John the Baptist who says: "Stop twisting the ways of the Lord. Stop turning prayer into a supplication for what you want, instead of what the Lord wants from you. Stop pretending that obedience to the Lord consists in a few external, publicly-seen, acts. Stop pretending that your attachment to worldly goods is compatible with the message of the Gospel."

            Our lives are composed of a series of compromises that impede the Lord from entering in a meaningful way. We distort the workings of our conscience and fail to form it in an honest and healthy way. We fail to place before our consciences the ways of the Lord. The Lord cannot come into our lives because we have barricaded the entrance, and sometimes the barricades themselves are elements of our lives that we have purportedly constructed in His name! To allow the Lord to enter we must descend into the profundity of our being and confront the ambiguities that make His entrance all but impossible. It is through these small and hidden "corrections" of the twisted path that the Lord will find a way in, not in ostentatious acts or attitudes.

Conversion necessarily involves painful detachment from old ways

John the Baptist invites us to open wide the doors and to undertake a baptism of conversion. Conversion is a fundamental notion that the church places before us at significant times of the year, such as Advent and Lent. Conversion is the transformation and transfiguration of man, and we are being constantly called to mature, develop, and bring to fruition the best of ourselves. This involves abandoning the ambiguities of our lives. The word "baptism" is a Greek term meaning to "immerse oneself", and it involves the complete annihilation of that which went before. We must leave behind in the water our old stagnant ideas and false Gods. Change of this sort involves pain, the pain of detachment from old ways. It is not possible to arrive at something new without leaving behind the old. For that reason John the Baptist is a necessary step for the coming of the Lord.

The transformation from ambiguity to authenticity is beautiful and life-giving

Why did the inhabitants of Jerusalem flock to John, to hear a message so austere and severe? The human being is always searching for the clear message of John, for something greater than the mediocrity of our existence, for a message that invites transformation from the crookedness of our lives, to live a live full of beauty and meaning. When Francis of Assisi embarked upon his life of penitence and simplicity he was persecuted by the middle-class families of Assisi because their children began to follow him. These young people could see the attractiveness and beauty of the life that Francis had to offer. The mission of John the Baptist involves a similar call to live authentically, to live simply, instead of twisting the message of the Lord to our own ends. John ate locusts and wild honey and dressed in camel hair. This was a man who had returned to the life of the desert that was so much a part of Israel's history. The time in the desert for Israel was a time of transition and transformation, the transformation that all of us are desperately in need of. We are misshapen and deformed in our lives of compromise and comfort. All of us need the time of transition that is the meaning of Advent.

             Someone is arriving that is "greater" than John, someone who alone has the right to be our spouse. The expression "to undo the sandal strap" refers to a Jewish custom in the situation where a man was betrothed to a woman but for some reason was unable to marry her. Before she could be given in marriage to someone else, the new spouse had to undo the sandal strap of the original candidate. John's statement emphasizes the fact that he is unworthy to take the place of the true spouse. That true spouse is coming, someone who is more powerful than the cleansing water of the Jordan, one who brings the new life of the Holy Spirit.

            Let us wake up this Advent! Let us try to take our lives in hand and get rid of the ambiguities that litter our existence. How beautiful it is to get rid of the dross and return to clear and simple lives of authenticity! Let us ask the Lord for an Advent brimful of straight ways, and for genuine conversion.

First Sunday of Advent (November 27^th 2011)      

Mark 13:33-37

Translated from a homily by Don Fabio Rosini, broadcast on Vatican Radio

Questions raised by this passage from the Gospel

1 Is keeping vigil a dread-filled experience, or does it involve the thrill of waiting for something wonderful to happen?

2. Is keeping vigil over the property of the master a frightening experience, or does it involve being entrusted with life-giving power?

3. Do I keep watch over the right and wrong aspects of my life, or do I live haphazardly, exercising no discernment over the direction of my life?

4. Who is my real master? Who do I "keep vigil for"? The things that this life has to offer, or Christ?

Is keeping vigil a dread-filled experience, or does it involve the thrill of waiting for something wonderful to happen?

We start the adventure of the new liturgical year with this passage from the Gospel that asks us to wake up. "Be on your guard. Stay awake!" we are told. To stay awake or to keep vigil sounds like hard work! Parents of newly-borns are sleep deprived and - as they can testify - it is not a very pleasant experience! On the face of it, this Gospel seems like an invitation to tension and anguish. Are we to feel threatened by the fact that we don't know at which exact moment the Lord will come? Do we have the sense that this Gospel is weighing us down with negative feelings towards the future?

            The funny thing is that, when it comes to entertainment, we love tension and suspense! We watch thrillers avidly, we love suspense-stories, we revel when there are spine-tingling twists and turns in the plot! Waiting to see what will happen with bated breath is extremely entertaining in these situations. Why so? Because we feel that something important is going to happen and we can't wait to find out what it is.

            Similarly, to understand this Gospel we must learn the art of waiting for something momentous to happen. A biblical figure that has much to teach us in this art of waiting is Simeon in the Gospel of St Luke. He waits all of his life to hold the child that is the fulfilment of the promises of the Lord. Simeon was a master in the art of knowing how to wait for something good.

To keep vigil over the property of the master is to be entrusted with power

In the passage of the Gospel that we reflect on this Sunday, the master leaves his house to go on a journey, gives each servant a particular task, and asks the doorman to stay awake. What does it mean to stay awake and wait for the return of the master? In this case, to stay awake is equivalent to being entrusted with power. The master has left his very own property in the care of the servants. Staying awake in this case does not involve taking huge doses of caffeine and waiting with anguish for something terrible to happen! Instead, staying awake means being attentive to the precious things that we have been entrusted with. It means being bestowed with the power of God and with the responsibility to exercise it fruitfully. To stay awake means to perform the wonderful task that we have been given.

To be entrusted with the role of watchman is to be given the amazing authority to make choices between right and wrong in our lives

The job of the doorman is usually to stay at the entrance and decide who can enter and who cannot. Thus, to be a doorman is to exercise the power of selection. It is to make a decision about what is good and right, and what is not. What an amazing duty! What an interesting life! Being awake in this sense is not a tension-filled state of mind, but to be alive, to be people entrusted with power to make positive decisions in life. Staying awake, being attentive to what is good and right, is the very thing that gives dignity to our lives. Our master has given his own power to us; he has given us wonderful tasks to do; and he has given us the authority to say yes or no to what we allow to enter our lives.

            What kind of life would it be if we were not to exercise this power? The opposite of staying awake is to fall asleep; to be, in a sense, switched off, and not to do anything of significance. The origin of the word "depraved" means to live a life that "does not put things to the proof"; in other words to live without distinguishing the good from the bad; to live haphazardly  without giving significance or profundity to the things we do.

In the Bible, keeping vigil is always linked to the wait for the liberating coming of the Lord

We do not know when the master will return, in the evening, at dawn, or at midday. These are the traditional times of the changing of the guard. What do they refer to in the Gospel? In the biblical world, keeping vigil is always liked to the Passover. "This night shall henceforth and for all time be a night of vigil for my people". The Lord comes in order to liberate! This is why it is important to be "awake" and to be attentive to the things of the Lord, instead of being busy doing things that are meaningless.

Who is my real master? Who do I "keep vigil for"- the things that this life has to offer, or Christ?

It is very important to keep in mind that the master of all things is someone else, and not myself. This is not demeaning for us, but it is the simple dose of reality that all of us need. We are not masters of our lives, and we must await the arrival of the real master. We are not the ultimate meaning of things; that ultimate meaning can only come from God. And we must prepare ourselves for encounter with this ultimate truth of our lives. This is not something negative, but something beautiful and liberating to reflect upon.

            If I seek the final meaning of things within myself, then I fall hopelessly short. I am insufficient in myself to provide an ultimate answer for my own existence. To find that answer, Christ must be my master and Christ must be the one that I keep vigil for. What use is it to stay vigilant for the paltry recompense that this life has to offer! Am I overly-vigilant for the attention or good-opinion of others? What I should be vigilant for, instead, is my relationship with Jesus. That is what gives sense to my life. My whole existence is a journey towards him. I must measure every aspect of my existence against him because he is my true master.

            You know, a Christian should not be shy to say this openly every now and then! I answer only to Jesus, not to a world that threatens me and tries to make me conform to an impoverished image of humanity; a world that is incredibly vain and wallows in the banal. My master is not the world but Jesus. It is He, and He alone, that gives sense to my life.

Thirty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time (November 20^th 2011)  

Feast of Christ the King

Matthew 25:31-46

Translated from a homily by Don Fabio Rosini, broadcast on Vatican Radio

Questions raised by this passage from the Gospel

1. How does the vision I have of the future influence my concrete acts in the present moment?

2. Is the message of this Gospel threatening or is it something fundamentally positive?

3. What are the opportunities that I have on a daily basis to enter God's Kingdom?

4. Why are the good people in the parable completely unaware of the good actions they have done for the Lord?

5. Are acts of charity great acts of benevolence and charity on our part, or are they privileged moments of encounter with the Kingdom of God?

This Gospel challenges us to reflect on the ultimate purpose of our lives and to relate it to the ordinary things we do every day

The Feast of Christ the King marks the end of the liturgical year, so it is appropriate that the Gospel this Sunday should be concerned with the end of all things. At the end of any year, we are always inclined to reflect on the way things are changing and passing away. It is also an opportunity to reflect on more profound things like the ultimate purpose of our lives. It is sometimes said that the human being can be understood in terms of where he is going. If the vision I have of the future is based on something false or frivolous, then my whole life now in the present will be disordered. The vision I have of my future is related to the vision I have of myself. Everything a human being does is done with some sort of intention, and if I do not have an enlightened vision of my future, then my behaviour in the present moment will be misguided as a result. What kind of vision of the future does this Gospel place before us? How does it relate that future to concrete acts in the present?

A Gospel that clearly describes the tragic consequences of selfish actions

We are presented with the image of a Shepherd King who is busy putting everything in its proper order. The problem with this Gospel is that it gives a menacing, threatening description of the consequences that await us in the future if we fail to behave in a certain way. And there can be little doubt that the Gospel does intend to give a severe warning of the negative consequences of our acts. On a human level, we need to be aware of these consequences or otherwise we might never be motivated to alter our behaviour. It is a fact of life that we do engage in evil acts, and we need to be attentive to the repercussions that follow such acts.

A Gospel that embodies a warning but which has a fundamentally positive message

This Gospel can justifiably be understood to embody a tragic warning of the consequences that await our behaviour. But this is not the only purpose of this passage. The parable also holds up to us the fact that the most ordinary of acts can have a wonderful significance. It shows us how the Kingdom of God can be breached without us even being aware of it. It highlights how all of us are willed by God to enter paradise, despite our constant obstinacy with regard to doing good. Our heavenly Father has no other purpose for us except that of our fulfilment and happiness. In the end, damnation is a consequence of the frustration of God's plan for us. If there was no possibility of us failing to carry out God's will, then our freedom of choice would have no meaning or substance.

The Lord has surrounded us with opportunities to enter His Kingdom!

How should this text be understood in the context of its positioning at the end of the liturgical year? What it tells us is that God surrounds us with opportunities to go to Paradise! The Lord has not left us without ample occasions and means to enter his Kingdom. These opportunities can be found in the sick, the homeless, the poor and the imprisoned. We should not think that those in need are a nuisance that we would be better of without. They are our gates to Paradise! This is a fundamentally positive message that should motivate us towards acts of charity. Situations of need are not irritating or troublesome states of affairs, but are moments of grace. In a sick person there is grace for us. In a prisoner, there is grace for us. In a down-and-out who needs to be dressed, there is an opportunity to enter a wonderful kingdom. These people are doors that God opens to us. They should not be thought of simply as situations that make demands on us. Instead, they should be seen as occasions when the Kingdom of Heaven is close at hand.

Why are the good people in the parable unaware of the good they have done?

In the parable, both the good and the bad are ignorant of the repercussions of their actions in the sense that neither is aware of the true significance of what they have done. The good ones ask the King, "But when did we do these things?" It is a fact that when we do something good, often we do not feel that we are doing something great or significant. Instead we do the act in the realisation that there is a value here that must be respected. This is an important point. What brings us to Paradise is the simple intuition of the precious value of the other person. This is the gate of the Kingdom of Heaven. In fact, the One who gives us the gift of Paradise is the One who considered us so precious that He gave His life for us. It must be the same for us.

We are called not only to serve the needy but to identify ourselves with them

When we read this text, we do so as Christians, a people that God has set apart, the Holy People of God. When we encounter this figure of the Shepherd King at the end of time, it will not be the first time that we meet him. It will be no surprise to us to hear that the gate to the Kingdom of Heaven is through acts of love to needy people that surround us. The Church has always made it abundantly clear that in the sick or needy there is the figure of the Lord Jesus himself. Saint Camillus always served the sick either standing or on his knees because he was aware that Jesus was present in that person. We have the privilege of being in possession of this wonderful truth – that Christ is present in those who are in need – so let us not waste it. We must also remember that we are not simply called to serve the needy; we are asked to identify ourselves with them. We must hunger and thirst with Christ for justice. We must be, with Christ, the persecuted and the imprisoned, in the sense that we suffer with them and ache for liberation. When all is said and done, why are the needy identifiable with Christ? Because He was the one who was thirsty, imprisoned, and without clothes. Every man and woman who wishes to follows Christ on the way of the cross must be ready one day to be the one who is rejected. Through our acts of love, service, and doing good, we must be ready to find ourselves marginalised and rejected as Christ was.

The ultimate purpose of life is brought into the present by concrete acts of mercy

To look after the people around us who are suffering is the minimum that we are asked to do. That is why the good people in the parable didn't even realise that, in carrying out this minimum, they were serving Christ. They had simply done what they had discerned to be the right thing. In so doing, they had unknowingly made contact with the ultimate purpose of life. Every act of charity is a gate to Paradise. Whenever we have the chance to practice charity, let us not think that we are doing great acts of benevolence. Let us be mindful of the fact, rather, that the opportunity to carry out such acts is a great privilege. Through them we encounter the wonderful reality of the Kingdom of God.

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time (November 13^th 2011)     

Matthew 25:14-30

Translated from a homily by Don Fabio Rosini, broadcast on Vatican Radio

Questions raised by this passage from the Gospel

1. The Parable of the Talents: Is it an exhortation to use our abilities better, or is it something different?

2. Do the talents refer to our own personal capacities, or to the spiritual goods that have been bestowed on us?

3. What is the problem with the relationship of the third servant to his master?

4. Is this a parable of the moralistic sort, that makes us feel wary of the demands placed on us by the Lord, or does it wish to emphasize the Lord's bounty?

The Parable of the Talents: Is it an exhortation to use our abilities better, or is it something different?

We are inclined to interpret the parable of the talents as being an exhortation to use one's own talents to the full. As we read the parable, we tend to feel a sense of obligation to use our own abilities better, and we feel guilty that we have used them so badly up to now. But if we read the parable carefully, we see that Jesus actually intends to speak about a different matter entirely. We are presented with three servants, one of whom has a wrong relationship with his master. Jesus wants to challenge us to reflect on the behaviour of this third servant and use it to reflect on our own relationship with God.

Do the talents refer to our own personal capacities, or to the spiritual goods that have been gifted to us?

The talents spoken of by this parable are often understood to symbolize human qualities, like intelligence or artistic ability. But there can be no doubt that Jesus actually intends them to refer to something else. A man leaves on a journey and entrusts his own property to the three servants. Therefore the story is not referring to the something that belongs to the servants, but to something that belongs to the master. This distinction is important if we wish to understand the relevance of this parable to the Christian life. What are the goods that we as Christians have received? The sacraments, the Word of God, the gift of the church community with which we share the faith, the gift of the Magisterium of the Church and leaders of the faith like the Holy Father, the possibility of receiving forgiveness for our sins, and - the greatest gift of all - the Holy Spirit that has been poured into our hearts. Once we reflect on the goods that have been entrusted to us, the parable begins to lose its moralistic air and instead becomes a meditation on the wonderful bounty of the Lord, and the joy that comes from receiving it well.

What is the problem with the relationship of the third servant to his master?

The problem with the third servant can be intuited from the things he says to his master. "Lord, I know you are a hard man, reaping where you do not sow and gathering where you have not scattered. I was afraid, and I hid your talent under the ground. You gave it to me and now I restore it to you. I did not take possession of that which you gave me. In fact, I don't think well of you at all. As far as I'm concerned, you are trying to entrap me and use me for your purposes. You want to make me do things that I don't want to do, so I keep your gifts at a distance from me, buried underground".

            The reason why many people do not progress in the faith is because they place themselves before God with the same identical attitude as this third servant. They feel that God is someone to be feared, someone to be kept at a distance. Their image of God is of someone demanding, someone who places excessive burdens on us. All of us share something of this third servant's attitude towards God. We feel that God is someone who basically wants something from us. But if we reflect on the behaviour of the master towards the first two servants, we see that this is not the correct way to view God at all. He gives them everything! Those servants used his property well and now he gives it to them to keep forever! He invites them to partake, not only of his possessions, but of his own joy and happiness.

A talent is not a demand placed on us, but an entrustment with something positive and beautiful

The talent that the Lord gives us, therefore, must not be viewed as a demand or burden placed by God on us, but as an entrustment with something positive and beautiful. We must open our eyes and appreciate this fact clearly! We must stop fearing that God might be asking something of us, and instead consider the paternal trust that the Lord is showing towards us. He is giving us the things that belong to him. He is placing life-giving trust in us. We did not ask for the gift of life but it was given to us, and it is God's great act of entrustment towards us. We can use it well or not.

            If life can be understood as a talent, then the faith is also a talent. There is no snare hidden within it with which the Lord wishes to entrap us. The suspicion that we have towards the Lord that he wishes to exploit us, that he wishes to use us as instruments for his own purposes, is completely mistaken. The Lord is not trying to ensnare us with his demands, but is entrusting us with his joyful bounty.

            What does it mean to be the parent of a child? It means to be entrusted by God with something positive and beautiful. Often people are fearful of becoming parents because they see it as a burden that will take away from their lives. But in reality it is something that will give even more life to them. To be a minister of the Church is to be entrusted by God with a special gift. Often ministers need to reflect on the fact that what they have been given is God's trust, not a wearisome task, and they need to live out that trust in the joyful awareness that God is with them.

The parable of the talents should not make us wary of the "excessive" demands of the Lord, but instead make us reflect on his enormous bounty

In short, we should not think that the Lord is making demands on us and that if we don't fulfil these demands we will get a slap on the wrist. Instead we need to see that the Lord is giving us his gifts and that the correct use of these gifts will lead to incredible joy. It is wonderful to live our faith; it is a wonderful thing to preach the Gospel; it is wonderful to bring the new generation up in the faith; it is great to forgive each other; it is marvellous to live according to the ways of the Lord. Let us leave behind this accursed attitude of suspicion towards the Lord! The words of this parable are indeed terrible towards the third servant, but these words must be interpreted in the light of what the servant lost as a result of his failure to accept and possess the gifts of the Lord. A talent in biblical times represented thirty-three kilos of gold. Therefore it represented riches on an immense scale, and points to an enormous generosity and trust on the part of the master that we would do well to make the most of.

Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time (November 6^th 2011)   

Matthew 25:1-13

Translated from a homily by Don Fabio Rosini, broadcast on Vatican Radio

Questions raised by this passage from the Gospel

1. If we are all invited to the wedding banquet of salvation, then why are the five foolish bridesmaids refused admittance?

2. What do the flasks of oil in the parable symbolize?

3. How can we keep our flasks of oil full?

4. Why is it impossible to share my flask of oil with someone else?

Redemption is likened to a nuptial banquet

This passage in Chapter Twenty-Five of the Gospel of Matthew comes on the heels of the so-called "eschatological" discourse of the previous chapter, which discusses the end times and the destruction of Jerusalem. The parable that appears in this Sunday's Gospel is one of three that present us with apparent judgement-day situations. A wedding feast is about to begin and the bridesmaids must get ready to meet the bridegroom. The symbol of the wedding feast occurs often in Scripture and can represent salvation or the Eucharist. The book of the Apocalypse speaks of the wedding feast of the Lamb. Redemption in this parable is likened to a nuptial banquet. We are called to be part of the banquet and one does not enter the feast by default. One must accept the invitation by availing of an opportunity that presents itself to us. First one has to wait until the opportune time arrives, and then, when that moment arrives, one must be equipped in the appropriate way in order to gain admittance.

The period of waiting before the banquet begins

First, there is the period of waiting. Periods of waiting often involve a vigil of some sort during which one must remain awake. In the parable, however, all ten of the bridesmaids fall asleep! This fragility of our nature is something that all of us must confront regularly during our lives. Weakness is something that can be overcome when the opportunity arises, but in order to overcome it we must have the reserve of oil that the parable speaks of.

The flasks of oil possessed by the wise bridesmaids

The image of the oil in small flasks represents the occasions of life in which one builds up a certain fuel. On these occasions we store up our own light, our own luminosity. Just what are these flasks of oil in the life of the Christian? All of us have multiple and continual opportunities in which we can replenish our store of oil. In the Old Testament oil is a symbol of consecration and holiness, but it is also referred to in relation to the seven lamps that were kept burning in front of the Holy of Holies in the Temple of Jerusalem, the place that represented the presence of God in the world. These had to be kept perpetually alight. Oil, therefore, is connected to a world of sanctity and the presence of God.  Where can these flasks of life be found in the life of the Christian? Where can we obtain the resources of fuel to set ourselves alight and overcome our own weakness in the moment when we must meet the Bridegroom? These resources are to be found in the everyday occasions that form the life of the Christian. Our lives are made of simple acts of conformity to the will of God. Daily prayer in the morning and the evening, fidelity to the Sunday Eucharist, acts of charity towards others, sobriety, fasting - small things in which we manifest our fidelity to God. One should never think that the Christian life is composed of great or extraordinary events. Married life, for example, is made up of a series of small acts that maintains the relationship and forms the basis of the stability of the family. The real substance of marriage is not to be found in great declarations of love, or great feelings of enthusiasm, but in daily fidelity to small things. The religious life, similarly, is made up of the same attention to mundane matters. We may or may not have the opportunity to do world-shattering things during the course of our lives, but we will certainly have the opportunity to be faithful in small daily matters, and these must be our priority. We must always take care to keep these small flasks of oil full to overflowing.

Who are the five bridesmaids that have no oil?

The five bridesmaids that have no oil are people who possess everything but do not have this reserve that is based on fidelity in ordinary things. They are people who probably thought that, when the moment came, they would be able to measure up to the situation. They weren't concerned with conformity to the will of God in mundane matters, but felt that when the great occasions arrived they would be able to rouse themselves and do whatever was needful. This is a common but misguided conception. If we neglect to be faithful to God in small matters, then each neglected opportunity places a burden upon our ability to be obedient to God in future situations. Many Christians live disorderly lives of just this sort in which they do not bother to conform themselves to the will of God in small daily matters. When the Bridegroom comes, such people are distracted, doing something else, and they fail to encounter him.

           

Why do the wise bridesmaids refuse to share their oil?

It is natural to feel a bit aggrieved at the behaviour of the five wise bridesmaids in the parable. When the Bridegroom eventually arrives, they refuse to share their oil with the five who had none. How could they be so selfish, we think indignantly! This refusal, however, reflects a necessary fact of life. I cannot give my oil to anyone else because I cannot live someone else's life for them. I can pray for a person, and I can wish them well, but I cannot say their "Yes" to God for them.

            The five wise bridesmaids tell the others that they cannot share their oil because, if they did so, there would not be enough to go around for everyone. What does this saying symbolize? Sometimes people who are close to us are living disorderly lives. At moments, we might be inclined to think that the best way of showing solidarity with them is to neglect our own spiritual lives temporarily and immerse ourselves in their lives and practices. But our main concern in life should always be, in the first place, to conform our own personal lives to the will of God. This is not to promote an individualistic approach to spirituality. There is a correct order of things in spiritual matters. I must have my own house in order before I can assist anyone else. The oil represents my own personal intimate relationship with God and it cannot be compromised or played around with. In that sense, it cannot be "given" to others. We cannot put our own opportunities for fidelity to God in second place out of a misguided wish to exercise solidarity with others. To have a reserve of the sacred oil that represents our own obedience to God in mundane matters must always be our prime concern.