Time belongs to God

Time. It’s kind of like breath, or air, or water. We consume them as we do all commodities, thinking we have all we need, all the time in the world.

Until suddenly, we don’t.

Probably because of serious illness as a small child, I think about my death frequently. Hence my ‘alive time’ has always felt like something that needed to be spent thoughtfully and never wasted. Even before my conversion to Catholic Christianity, I worried whether I’d used– not squandered– the gifts I’d received. To me then, Pope John Paul’s title phrase, “Time Belongs to God,” aptly characterizes the length of human life. Lives that aren’t extinguished by abortion or suicide, that is.

The ancient Stoics practically counseled their followers, “Momento Mori.”

And we Benectine Oblates, like the monks, are advised “day by day, remind yourself that you are going to die.”

If these ruminations seem uncomfortably dark and desolate for these joyous high holidays of Jesus’ birth, let’s consider a few truths of our faith. And review the liturgy for Christmas week:

• Unlike every human baby ever born, Jesus was not born to live but to die.
• Is it likely or even possible that the Lord of the Universe left the details, the manner, people and place of His birth up to chance?
• That Emperor Augustus just happened to declare the need for a census requiring Joseph and Mary to travel from Nazareth to Bethlehem?
• Or that the too-small inns were happenstance?
• Could St. Joseph have genuinely believed that Mary had lain with another man?

The twofold generation of Christ is admirable; the first, His birth of a Father without a mother, is eternal; the second, His birth of a Mother without a father, happened in time. Eternal Himself, He was born of His eternal Father.

Why do you wonder? He is God. Consider His divinity, and all cause for wonder will cease. Let amazement pass away; let praise ascend; let faith be present; believe what has happened.

Has not God humiliated Himself enough for you? He who was God became Man. The inn was too small; wrapped in swaddling clothes, He was placed in a manger. Who does not marvel? He who fills the world found no room in an inn. Placed in a manger, He became our food. 

Saint Augustine Sermon 89

Feast of Saint Stephen

The very day after Christmas, the liturgical churches celebrate the feast of the first Christian martyr, Saint Stephen. We hear in the Book of Acts that,

Stephen, filled with grace and power,
was working great wonders and signs among the people.
Certain members of the so-called Synagogue of Freedmen,
Cyrenians, and Alexandrians,
and people from Cilicia and Asia,
came forward and debated with Stephen,
but they could not withstand the wisdom and the spirit with which he spoke.

When they heard this, they were infuriated,
and they ground their teeth at him But he, filled with the Holy Spirit,
looked up intently to heaven
and saw the glory of God and Jesus standing at the right hand of God,
and he said,
“Behold, I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man
standing at the right hand of God.”
But they cried out in a loud voice, covered their ears,
and rushed upon him together.
They threw him out of the city, and began to stone him.
The witnesses laid down their cloaks
at the feet of a young man named Saul.
As they were stoning Stephen, he called out
“Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.”

“…at the feet of a young man named Saul.” The prophet of the Gentiles was bathed in the blood of Stephen, remarks the EWTN homilist. “What must Saul have seen?” asks Franciscan friar, Father John Paul, in his excellent homily for the feast of Saint Stephen.

The feast of the holy martyrs

Is it possible on Saturday’s memorial of the holy martyrs not to think of the holy innocents being dismembered by chemicals or instruments while in the womb? The horrific daily slaughter of 70,000 souls? And not to beg forgiveness for their mothers and abortionists?

On the fourth day after celebrating Christmas, we ponder precisely what Saul saw: Truth in all its explosive and bloody power.

“When truth is proclaimed,” declares Father John Paul, “there are only two choices, submission or denial.” King Herod, like Stephen’s executioners chose denial. “…Could not withstand the wisdom and spirit…covering their ears.”

The homilist reminds us that the process of believing begins with the ears. The hearing of the message of salvation, once heard, descends into our hearts. Then, if we submit, into our intellect and will.

But we’re weak, fearful and incapable of anything worthwhile!

Indeed we are. Father Peter Cameron invites us to embrace our helplessness and flaws and pray before the creche:

“May I never fear my weakness, my inadequacy, or my imperfection. Rather, as I gaze with faith, hope, and love upon your incarnate littleness, may I love my own littleness, for God is with us. Endow my life with a holy wonder that leads me ever more deeply into the Mystery of Redemption and the meaning of my vocation and destiny.”

Sisters and brothers, this is the Jubilee. This is the season of hope in which we are invited to rediscover the joy of meeting the Lord. The Jubilee calls us to spiritual renewal and commits us to the transformation of our world, so that this year may truly become a time of jubilation. A jubilee for our mother Earth, disfigured by profiteering; a time of jubilee for the poorer countries burdened beneath unfair debts; a time of jubilee for all those who are in bondage to forms of slavery old and new…
As we contemplate the manger, as we gaze upon it and see God’s tender love in the face of the Child Jesus, let us ask ourselves: “Are our hearts full of expectation? Does this hope find a place there? … As we contemplate the loving kindness of God who overcomes our doubts and fears, let us also contemplate the grandeur of the hope that awaits us. … May this vision of hope illumine our path each day” (c. m. martini, Christmas Homily, 1980).
Dear sister, dear brother, on this night the “holy door” of God’s heart lies open before you. Jesus, God-with-us, is born for you, for me, for us, for every man and woman. And remember that with him, joy flourishes; with him, life changes; with him, hope does not disappoint.

Homily of the Holy Father