Born in Littleness and Vulnerability: Jesus, God-With-Us

Celebrations of Christmas this year have been bittersweet, both in the larger conflict-fraught world, and here at Stillsong. Many parishioners at St P's have been searching for ways to participate, to worship and celebrate liturgies, and hear homilies that are truly life-giving. Some have gone to other parishes, and others attend Mass some Sundays at a nearby college. All but a few of our small daily Mass community have ceased coming as pre-Vatican II sensibilities replace a vibrant faith life  -- a response that is both completely understandable and very sad. Many have simply given up on the Church as unresponsive and geared toward clericalist retrenchment. The pain of loss is palpable and the hunger for genuine community and a liturgy that can be prayed is a hunger that today is only occasionally met at St P's. 

To be able to come together then Christmas morning for Mass at a nearby chapel was wonderful. We were a small group. That brought resonances of the early church and its house churches for me. There was no choir except ourselves, which was wonderful because everyone sang their hearts out! (Because we were so few, Father asked if we felt up to singing and there was a unanimous "Yes!!") And so we celebrated the feast, a small community of faith gathered around a creche and God's altar.  It is Christmas and God comes to dwell with us in littleness and vulnerability --- both His and our own!! We came together to pray in our own pain, loss, and hopefulness; and today --- we also came together in our joy at God's presence amongst us and the way it draws us together and then sends us out to proclaim the Gospel in our own weakness and vulnerability.

For months now I have been reflecting on the name Emmanuel and the idea that ours is a God who wills to dwell with us. He wills this as his own deepest yearning and destiny. I have written that Emmanuel describes all of this and that it is also a good way to describe our own vocations to authentic humanity. We too are meant to be those with whom God dwells. To be Emmanuel, that is our nature and destiny, God-With-Us. As the reading from Hebrews reminds us, God has been revealed (made known and real in space and time) in partial and fragmentary ways, and now in Jesus, he will be revealed in fullness. Once again we have a chance to recommit to and continue this vocational task ourselves. From the perspective of Jesus' nativity, as brothers and sisters in Christ, we will also grow in grace and stature as God comes to dwell within us more and more fully. With and in Christ we allow ourselves to become more and more transparent to his presence and to authentic humanity, more and more Emmanuel ourselves.

Peace to all of you who read here. I wish you a wonderful Christmas season!! 

Sister Laurel O'Neal, Er Dio

Diocese of Oakland

A Lullabye for the Infant Jesus

 I spoke with a Franciscan friend this afternoon about Christmas plans. She shared that, partly to mark the 800th anniversary of St Francis and the Creche, her house was using the above carol (and the same version) to conclude their evening prayer. Susan believes that trumpets are more suited to Easter; for Christmas we need lullabies!! I love the Celtic sound and the minimalist accompaniment done by Yo Yo Ma who supplements the drone of bagpipes. All good wishes for this Christmas Feast. May it truly be a time of nativity, new birth and new creation for us all. 

Wexford Carol

Good people all, this Christmas time,

Consider well and bear in mind

What our good God for us has done

In sending his beloved son

With Mary holy we should pray,

To God with love this Christmas Day

In Bethlehem upon that morn,

There was a blessed Messiah born.

The night before that happy tide,

The noble Virgin and her guide

Were long time seeking up and down

To find a lodging in the town.

But mark how all things came to pass

From every door repelled, alas,

As was foretold, their refuge all

Was but a humble ox’s stall.

Near Bethlehem did shepherds keep

Their flocks of lambs and feeding sheep

To whom God’s angels did appear

Which put the shepherds in great fear

Prepare and go, the angels said

To Bethlehem, be not afraid

For there you’ll find, this happy morn

A princely babe, sweet Jesus, born.

With thankful heart and joyful mind

The shepherds went the babe to find

And as God’s angel had foretold

They did our Saviour Christ behold

Within a manger he was laid

And by his side the virgin maid

Attending on the Lord of Life

Who came on earth to end all strife.

There were three wise men from afar

Directed by a glorious star

And on they wandered night and day

Until they came where Jesus lay

And when they came unto that place

Where our beloved Messiah lay

They humbly cast them at his feet

With gifts of gold and incense sweet.

Irish Version 

(Carúl Loch Garman).

Ó, tagaig’ uile is adhraigí

An leanbh cneasta sa chró ‘na luí

Is cuimhnígí ar ghrá an Rí

A thug dár saoradh anocht an Naí.

’S a Mhuire Mháthair i bParrthas Dé,

Ar chlann bhocht Éabha guigh ‘nois go caomh,

Is doras an chró ná dún go deo

Go n-adhram’ feasta Mac Mhuire Ógh.

I mBeithil thoir i lár na hoích’

Ba chlos an deascéala d’aoirí,

Go follas don saol ón spéir go binn

Bhí aingle ‘canadh ó rinn go rinn.

“Gluaisig’ go beo,” dúirt Aingeal Dé,

“Go Beithil sall is gheobhaidh sibh É

‘Na luí go séimh i mainséar féir,

Siúd É an Meisias a ghráigh an saol.”

Gaudete Sunday and the Sacrament of Anointing (Revised)

 Each year on this Sunday we celebrate the Anointing of the Sick; we did NOT do so this morning. I missed it for I am always really moved as we each come forward and stand in a semi-circle in front of the whole assembly while facing the altar as the priest moves to each of us, lays on hands, prays, and then comes to each of us again anointing us on forehead and hands. I ordinarily come forward because I live with chronic illness and because I want to remain open to God bringing good out of whatever suffering is involved --- including whatever deep healing (God) will accomplish within me.

In the past I have felt keenly my need for healing, but too, my compassion for all those who stood in front of our brothers and sisters in Christ and implicitly proclaimed our vulnerability and need for one another and the prayers of each and all. We each have our own story of personal suffering, brokenness, illness, and neediness --- and we also have our significant stories of the Christ who comforts and strengthens us in every difficulty. I don't know the details of all of these stories -- though yes, I know a few; in every case, however, I know how moving it is to witness to the Gospel in weakness and brokenness and how inspiring to stand silently with others who, though tacit about what the details of their vulnerability involve,  say clearly with their presence that they trust in God, trust in the Sacraments, trust in the support of the ecclesia and cannot, in fact must not, do otherwise.

We each come to this Sacrament looking for God to work miracles -- "acts of power" as the NT puts it ---  whether or not there is physical healing. We come as supplicants looking for God to transform our weakness into a complex canvas at once flawed and sacred, a Divine work of art, Magnificats proclaiming the One who is sovereign and victorious over the powers of sin and death even as (he) embraces and transforms them with his love and presence. It is especially significant that we do this on the day proclaiming the greatness of JnBap who is the greatest of "those born of women" and who prepared the way of the Lord who, [[Strengthen(s) the feeble hands, (and) make(s) firm the knees that are weak, say(s) to those whose hearts are frightened: Be strong, fear not! Here is your God, he comes with vindication; with divine recompense he comes to save you. Then will the eyes of the blind be opened, the ears of the deaf be cleared; then will the lame leap like a stag, then the tongue of the mute will sing.]] (Isaiah, today's first reading.)

Through the years I have written of a vocation to chronic illness -- a vocation to be ill within the Church, to bear our illness in Christ and (thanks to James Empereur, sj) of the sacrament of anointing as a prophetic sacrament of commissioning and call. This is what we have celebrated at St P's on this Gaudete Sunday: brothers and sisters in Christ who came forth together in their vulnerability and need in order to be strengthened in our witness to Christ and help inspire the faith and prayer of the entire assembly. Physical healing is not necessary for the effectiveness of this sacrament (though we certainly open ourselves to it) but the increasing ability to bear our illness in Christ --- the ability to trust in and witness to the God whose power is perfected in weakness and who puts an end to fear and deep insecurity is the real vocation here. 

All of this becomes especially meaningful in light of Gaudete Sunday with its strong notes of hope and joy. It is also critically important because the sacrament of anointing (or of the sick) is a vocational sacrament. As I noted last week, Paul's theology recognizes such a vocation to suffering precisely because as Christians, we are not preparing to escape to heaven, but rather are called to be those who allow God in Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit to be Emmanuel here and now. The God of Jesus Christ has determined he will be God-with-us as he recreates heaven and earth so that ultimately he might be all in all. Today we celebrate the joy we know because of this divine will and the hopefulness we trustingly hold despite our suffering. As Isaiah reminds us, such trust can lead to strong hands capable of touching others with compassion and gentleness; likewise, it can result in "knees" that support us as we try to stand tall in our own truth --- glorifying God and singing our lives with a joy that comes when we truly know and entrust ourselves to his creative love.

Second Sunday of Advent: Waiting Upon God in Hope

During the past month, I have been reading NT Wright's, Into the Heart of Romans in preparation for Bible study on the book of Romans. Wright's work is an intense "deep dive" into the 8th chapter of the letter, the heart of the book and perhaps the most sublime piece of all Paul's writing. I am anticipating this study being full of surprises and challenges for our class, especially in two areas: first, the ultimate promise of Jesus' death and resurrection and the sending of the Spirit is NOT a disembodied eternal life in heaven, but the eventual coming of a new heaven and a new earth in which God, in the language of Revelations, is all in all. NT Wright has rather famously said, [[the goal of our lives is not life after death, but life after life after death]]. 

This leads to a theology where the goal of life is not "getting to heaven" but instead to an ongoing commitment to a world where the creator and covenant God dwells with and through us as he did in and through Jesus. The second related area of surprise and challenge is a shift in our theologies of suffering. Ordinarily, we think of suffering as the result of estrangement from God; intimacy with God is marked by peace and the absence of suffering. However, in this theology where we are on the way to a new heaven and new earth, we suffer with and in Christ in the power of the Spirit as we live in love and hope so that we might demonstrate the full content of the Gospel to others. These two shifts have repercussions for our faith all along the line, not least in terms of ethics, character development, our commitment to God's good creation, the way we approach life in this world, the idea of vocation, any suffering that comes our way, etc. The climax of Romans 8 is expressed in two statements, 1) Therefore there is no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus, and 2) Nothing at all can separate us from the love of God. We are called to live our lives in light of these related affirmations.

During the rest of Advent, I will try to write a bit more about Wright's reading of Paul's theology and some of the implications. For now, I want to focus on the fact that Paul has reworked his Jewish faith in terms of the God of creation and covenant who is fully revealed in Jesus as Emmanuel. We believe in a God whose greatest desire is to dwell with us and who, in Christ's life, death, and resurrection, has begun the complete recreation of heaven and earth. This means that the human vocation is to live a covenantal life with God so that in and with us in the power of the Spirit God may be glorified in his creation --- the WHOLE of God's creation. 

At a time when Christians often treat reverence for creation as something far down any list of priorities because their sights are set on heaven (some even suggest destroying this world to initiate the end times and get them to heaven more quickly!), Paul's vision of God's will and intentions may be a shock. Those embracing a dualistic spirituality where heaven and a disembodied existence leaving material bodies behind forever will be similarly astounded when this vision is revealed to be contrary to both God's will for his creation and humanity's ultimate destiny. For those who suffer in various ways and who tend to associate suffering only in conjunction with personal sin and a lack of intimacy with God, or who may believe that because one suffers one must not pray well enough or must have a deficient spirituality, this alternate vision will also be a surprise. After all, it means we are invited to understand our present suffering as part of an inestimable vocation to be images of God's presence in our world in, with, and through God's Christ and the power of the Spirit. 

Today's readings focus on images related to these "new" theological ideas. Even so, I was struck as I listened to them just how infrequently homilists take them seriously or preach on them. For instance: [[According to his promise we await new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness (God's justice-making presence, especially when embraced by human beings) dwells.]] (2 Peter 3:8-14) God is doing something new and is doing it in our midst.  Importantly, God depends upon our cooperation for the fruits of the new creation begun in Jesus' death and resurrection to be fully realized. God desires that new heaven and earth where, through Jesus' death and resurrection, God dwells with, in, and through us as Emmanuel.

Waiting is rarely easy and Advent puts a significant accent on waiting. But we are not called merely to wait passively; instead, we are called to wait upon, and even more specifically, to wait upon God. Of course, we wait for God's will to be completely accomplished in our world, yet we do this by waiting upon God in the sense of serving him and his will until the "final" day. We are those who do the will of God in this world as we anticipate the coming of the new heaven and new earth. This means our waiting is active and full. In waiting we act to let God make us the people God calls us to be. This means we act to steward our world in the way the Creator God wills and always did will us to steward it.  It means we commit freshly to allow God to be Emmanuel, and to make us more and more into those who are Imago Dei for one another and for the sake of the whole of God's creation. 

Already, because of Christ's death and resurrection, our world is not the same as it was before the Christ Event. And now, we are asked to claim our vocation to work with God freshly -- as he brings that changed world to an unimaginable completion. It is not a medieval disembodied heaven we are working and living towards. It is a new heaven and a new earth. We are called to participate in that recreation and completion NOW by glorifying the God of creation and covenant in this world. Reclaiming that vocation by stewarding his creation and suffering with and in Christ is something we embrace in hope remembering that in light of Jesus' death and resurrection, there is no condemnation, and too, that nothing at all can separate us from the love of God. 

First Sunday of Advent (Reprise)

All good wishes on this first Sunday of Advent! "Adventus" is a season where we prepare to see the surprising ways God works in our lives, where we are especially cognizant of the choices that allow God to be active deep within our own hearts and within our larger world; it is where we learn to look more closely and attentively at everything within and around so that we are prepared to respond as fully as possible to this God of newness and surprises.

For many of us there is a paring down to the essentials to make all this possible. We also take greater care and time with our own self-inventory, our own inner work --- especially as that allows the life of God to move through and fill us. And of course, we make sure there is sufficient silence to truly hear the movements of our own hearts and the God who would be Emmanuel by taking up complete residence there. These are the really essential "preparations for Christmas" which put shopping and other things we also must do in their proper place.

I find it awesome to consider that the God who would "tent" among us has chosen my own heart and soul, my own mind and body --- with all of their flaws and weaknesses --- to reveal the fullness and perfection of Divine love made manifest in Christ. But through the past months I have watched the greening of new life nascent within me; I have seen it where I thought it could never be and sometimes where I thought it had been quenched forever. Ours is a God of newness and life and we are called to allow these to spring up within us wherever they will. He is faithful beyond telling and does not disappoint. So I am reminded that the season begins with a single candle in the darkness. It will end with a blaze of light and warmth -- and especially that of the light of Christ within us --- if only we allow it.

 May these weeks of preparation see the kindling of new life and light even when it begins with a small and sometimes stuttering flame in the midst of great darkness. Especially, may we all come to know more intimately the surprising God of newness who takes up residence and "tents" within and among us in Christ; He is the God who treasures our poverty and weakness and transforms and transfigures these into the mangers and lamps of his life and love.

O Come, O Come, Emmanuel!