A Recipe for Readiness – Homily for the First Sunday of Advent

Blog11-28As the Advent season begins, we are immediately drawn into its principle theme of preparation and readiness for the coming of the Lord. The first coming of the Lord has already been fulfilled at Bethlehem. And while we should prepare spiritually for the coming Christmas Feast, these first weeks of Advent bid us to focus even more on the Second Coming of the Lord in glory.

Thus, as the curtains draw back on the opening scenes of Advent, we are warned by the Lord that He will come on the clouds with great power and glory and that we must be prepared. He says, Be vigilant at all times and pray that you have the strength to escape the tribulations that are imminent and to stand before the Son of Man.

Today’s gospel is taken from the Mt. Olivet discourse. As we saw two weeks ago, the historical context in which the Lord was speaking was not that of the end of the world, but of the destruction of the Temple and of Jerusalem. For those ancient Jews, however, it was the end of the world as they knew it. The destruction of Ancient Jerusalem is also symbolic of the end of the world. The world will end for us either by our own death or by His coming to us in the Second Coming. Whatever the personal context will be for us, the message is the same: be ready!

Let’s study this gospel in two stages, and then heed its message.

I. DOUBLE VISION – The gospel opens with a description of tribulations that are about to come on the land. But in that description there is a twofold reaction that is described. Note first the tribulation that is described and then the first of two reactions that are intertwined with it:

There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on earth nations will be in dismay, perplexed by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will die of fright in anticipation of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. And then they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory.

The political powers will be confused and in dismay. Fixed points in this world such as the sun, moon, stars, sea, and land will be shaken. This will cause many to be frightened, shocked, and bewildered. And thus is described the reaction of one group of human beings.

But not all human beings react in this way. There is a second reaction that is prescribed and described:

But when these signs begin to happen, stand erect and raise your heads because your redemption is at hand.

Yes, this a very different reaction: one of expectant joy and serene confidence. And so we see here a kind of double vision.

  1. Some cry out with fear and say “He is wrathful!” Others with faith say, “He is wonderful!”
  2. To some He is frightening, to others He is fabulous.
  3. To some these events are awful, to others they are awe-inspiring.
  4. Some shout, “Horror on every side!” Others sing, “Hallelujah to the King of Kings!”

Thus, there is the dread of the defeated and the delight of the delivered.

Of those who experience dread, other Scriptures say,

  1. Behold, he is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see him, every one who pierced him; and all tribes of the earth will wail on account of him. Even so. Amen (Rev 1:7).
  2. Then the kings of the earth, the princes, the generals, the rich, the mighty, and every slave and every free man hid in caves and among the rocks of the mountains. They called to the mountains and the rocks, “Fall on us and hide us from the face of him who sits on the throne and from the wrath of the Lamb! For the great day of their wrath has come, and who can stand?” (Rev 6:15-17)

Of those who experience delight, other Scriptures say,

  1. He who testifies to these things says, “Surely I am coming soon.” Amen. Come, Lord Jesus! (Rev 22:20)
  2. Come, O Lord! (1 Cor 16:22)
  3. Behold, I am coming soon! Blessed is he who keeps the words of the prophecy in this book (Rev 22:7).
  4. He who is coming will come and will not delay. My righteous will live by faith….we are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who believe and are saved (Hebrews 10:37, 39).
  5. In all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us (Rom 8:37).
  6. Surely the day is coming; it will burn like a furnace. All the arrogant and every evildoer will be stubble, and that day that is coming will set them on fire,” says the Lord Almighty. “Not a root or a branch will be left to them. But for you who revere my name, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings. And you will go out and leap like calves released from the stall (Malachi 4:1-2).

Yes, it is a kind of double vision: two very different experiences of the same reality. The difference, as we shall see, is that between sin and grace, and with which “army” we have allied ourselves.

As an example of this “double vision,” consider the Civil War. As with any war, the issues leading up to it were complex, but it is simply not possible to remove from the mix the egregious injustice and sin of slavery. As the Northern troops swept (often ruthlessly) through the South there were some who saw only destruction and conquest. But there were others who saw something very different. An old spiritual from the time said,

Oh the slave folk say, “Ho! Ho!
And the master says, “Oh No!”
And it must be now that the kingdom’s coming
In the year of Jubilo!

So for some, it was the definitive end to power and the South they knew. To others, it meant vindication and freedom.

In order for us to celebrate on that day when the Lord comes, there are prerequisites that must first be met. And that leads us to the next stage of today’s gospel.

II. DIRECTIVES – The Lord continues on, instructing us in how to be ready for the great and terrible day of the Lord:

Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy from carousing and drunkenness and the anxieties of daily life, and that day catch you by surprise like a trap. For that day will assault everyone who lives on the face of the earth. Be vigilant at all times and pray that you have the strength to escape the tribulations that are imminent and to stand before the Son of Man.

And herein the Lord gives us five basic directives of things to avoid and practices to adopt in order that we be ready and able to greet Him in all His glory. Notice that the Lord announces the effect (drowsiness) and then the causes. This is typical of ancient practice. In modern times, however, it is more common to speak of the causes and then describe the effects. Hence, we will proceed with our study in a slightly different order than that in which it was presented.

1. DEBAUCHERY – In the text, the Lord warns of the problem of “carousing.” The Greek word used is κραιπάλῃ (kraipale), which refers to the giddiness and headache caused by drinking wine to excess. More generally it means the excessive indulgence of all of our passions, or of living life to excess. Other translators render this word as “dissipation,” referring to the general squandering of resources that results from overindulgence.

We, of course, live in times in which our every need is (over)supplied. There is much opportunity for excess. At the market there is not merely bread, there are fifty different types of bread. Our oversupply and overindulgence are literally reflected in our bodies: obesity, diabetes, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, and heart disease plague us.

And it is not just food that is excessive; it is everything. We are excessively busy with the nonessentials of life. There are innumerable ways to occupy our minds. Our minds are so overstimulated that we cannot hear that “still, small voice.” Most people have a very short attention span due to this overstimulation. All day long the noise from the radio, mp3 player, TV, DVD player, CD, PC, iPad, and/or cell phone vies for our attention. It jams our mind and breaks our union with Christ and even with our very self. And then there are the 24-hour news channels generating hype about even ordinary events: “Breaking news!” Our e-mail is flooded with junk mail and spam, offering false hopes, and products and services we don’t really need. There are endless money-making schemes, lotteries, and sweepstakes. And oh, the sales: Black Friday, Cyber Monday, pre-holiday, post-holiday! It makes me think of the carnival hucksters calling, “Step right up!” But it is worse than that because it seems since we cannot get away from it.

We spend, spend, spend and then borrow, borrow, borrow to support our spending. We need two incomes and a 60-hour work week so that we can afford our lifestyle. And once we have acquired “the goods,” we’re never there to enjoy them. We sacrifice family on the altar of pleasure. We have an excess of everything except children, because they cost money and thus impede our ability to consume.

Even our recreation is excessive. Our weekends and vacations often leave us exhausted, disquieted, and unprepared for the coming week. A simple, quiet weekend, reflecting on God’s wonders, or spending time at home with family? No way! It’s off to watch the myriad activities of our overscheduled children. The weekends meant for rest instead feature distinctly unrestful activities such as shopping, dancing in loud bars, watching football games, and drinking.

Yes, it’s all excess. It weighs us down, wearies us, costs a lot of time and money, and isn’t really all that satisfying anyway. It is dissipation. In the end, we are left with something like that headache and hung over feeling of which the Greek word kraipale speaks. But up goes the cry anyway: “More! One more round!” Excess, dissipation, surfeiting, carousing; more, more, more!

2. DIVISIONS – The Lord warns of the “anxieties” of daily life. The Greek word used is μερίμναις (merimnais) meaning more literally “a part separated from the whole,” “that which divides and fractures a person into parts.” And thus we see the human person, overwhelmed with excess, incapable of distinguishing the urgent from the important, the merely pleasurable from the productive. On account of our overstimulation, our excess, we are pulled in many different directions. We can’t decide; our loyalties are divided and conflicting. We are endlessly distracted by a thousand contrary drives and concerns.

Anxiety is the condition of being overwhelmed and divided by many and contrary drives, demands, and priorities. Anxiety freezes and perplexes us. There is too much at stake and no central governing principle to direct our decisions. All of this overwhelms us and clouds our mind and heart. We are anxious about many things and cannot determine the “one thing necessary” that will order all of the details (cf Luke 10:42). This is anxiety and the Lord enumerates it as among those things that destroy our readiness to stand before Him with joy.

3. DRUNKENNESS – Here the Greek word use is very straightforward: μέθῃ (methe), meaning drunk on wine. But why do we drink? Frankly we drink to medicate our anxiety. Overwhelmed by the excess that leads to anxiety (inner division and conflict) we drink to medicate our sense of being overwhelmed. We need something to soothe us. And instead of slowing down and seeking God, we drink. We anesthetize our mind. And it is not only alcohol that we use. We use things, people, power, sex, entertainment, diversions, and distractions; all to soothe our tense, anxious mind.

This of course only deepens the central problem. For all these things only add to the very problem that has disturbed us in the first place: the kraipale that is excess and dissipation. The solution is to get clear about our priorities, to seek God and allow Him to order our life. But instead of seeking a clear mind, we do the opposite and tune out. A little wine is a gift from God (cf Psalm 104:15) to cheer our hearts. But with excess, we go beyond cheer to dull our mind.

To be sober is to have a clear mind, one that knows and is in touch with reality and final ends. To be sober is to be alert, honest, and reasonable; to act in a way that bespeaks thoughtful and deliberate movement toward a rational and worthy goal. The sober person acts consciously and with purpose toward a unifying goal: being with God. St. Paul says, But this one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus (Phil 3:13-14).

Lacking the one unifying thing, torn apart within, and anxious on account of our excesses, we dull our mind with alcohol. The Lord calls us to clarity but we retreat into insobriety. We are, in effect, “hung over” from indulging in the excesses of this world and then “medicating” the resulting inner divisions. Our minds go dull and we tune out.

4. DROWSINESS – The Lord says, Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy. The Greek word used here is βαρηθῶσιν (barethosin), meaning “burdened, heavily laden, overcome, or weighted down.” And thus we see that the effect that all of the above things have is to weigh us down, to burden our heart. Laden with excess, divided by contrary demands, and medicating the stress with insobriety, our heart becomes tired and burdened. Our heart is no longer inflamed and animated with love. It has become weary, distracted, bored, and tired of holy things and of the Lord. Instead of being watchful in prayer, our heart sleeps on, weighed down in sin, excess, division, and insobriety. It no longer keeps watch for the Lord, whom it is called to love.

Yes, the world and our sinful preoccupation with it weighs our heart down. It captures our love and attention and we become drowsy toward spiritual things.

In the garden, the Lord asked the Apostles to pray. But they had spent their energy that evening arguing with Jesus and debating among themselves about who was greatest. Divided within, they wanted Jesus, but they also wanted the world and its fame and power. Struck by the conflict and tension that Jesus’ words about suffering and dying brought, they were divided and anxious. And so they medicated it all and tuned out. They likely had more than a few drinks of wine that night. Weighed down and exhausted by worldly preoccupations and priorities, their burdened hearts were too drowsy to pray; so they slept. (But Satan did not sleep that night.)

Consider the words of Jesus to the Church at Ephesus: You have forsaken your first love. Remember the height from which you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first. If you do not repent, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place (Rev 2:5-6). Jesus also warns, Because of the increase of wickedness, the love of most will grow cold (Mat 24:12). Yes, sinful indulgence divides and stresses us. Since it is too much we tune out and dull our mind, and thus our heart grows cold, burdened, and heavy with sin. Heavy and weary, our heart goes to sleep and we lose our first love. Jesus described the pattern: Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy from carousing and drunkenness and the anxieties of daily life, and that day catch you by surprise like a trap. This is the cycle.

What are we to do about this awful cycle?

5. DUE DILIGENCE – The Lord says, Be vigilant at all times and pray that you have the strength to escape the tribulations that are imminent and to stand before the Son of Man.

The Lord does not describe this terrible cycle of debauchery (excess), division (anxiety), drunkenness (self-medication), and drowsiness (heavy hearts) merely to define the problem. Having diagnosed our condition, He prescribes the remedy of prayerful vigilance.

To be vigilantly prayerful is to be in living, conscious contact with God. It is to have our heart and mind focused on the one thing necessary (cf Lk 10:42), and thus to have our life ordered. With this order properly established, our excesses fall away, and the many associated anxieties and divisions depart. Once they are gone, we no longer need to medicate and soothe our anxious mind. This lightens our heart; its heaviness goes away.

Once we have set our sights on God through vigilant prayer, everything else in our life becomes ordered. And then when Christ comes, He will not disrupt our world, but confirm what we are already used to: Jesus Christ as the center and meaning of our life.

Through prayerful vigilance we can stand erect and raise [our] head because [our] redemption is at hand. Why? Because we are used to seeing Him and experiencing His authority. He thus comes not to destroy and usurp our disordered life, but to confirm and fulfill what has always been true for us: that Jesus is the center of our life.

The Truer Gift at Christmas – As Seen in a Commercial

Blog11-27There is an old saying that the greatest things in life aren’t things. Our greatest gifts are those we love, beginning with God and extending to one another.

One of the great dangers at Christmastime (and with life in general) is that we maximize the minimum and minimize the maximum, or, as Jesus puts it, we strain out gnats and swallow camels (Matt 23:24).  He said this about the religiously observant of His day, who meticulously followed small, technical rules about cleanliness and ritual purity, but neglected the weightier provisions of the law: justice and mercy and faithfulness (Matt 23:22).

In other words, at Christmas we can focus so much on buying things and arranging various events that we neglect or even harm those who are our greatest gift.

Consider the sad situation that many now largely set aside the once-sacred Thanksgiving holiday when people could spend time with family and enjoy their company. And why is this? So that stores can be open for people to leave the people they love in order to run out and buy things for them. The gift eclipses both the giver and the recipient. And on top of that, we potentially sin against charity by creating a climate that requires the poor and those of the lower-wage working class to work on Thanksgiving Day.

Add to this the short tempers at the shopping malls (often caused by heavy traffic, long lines, and out-of-stock items) and the impression is created that things are more important than people. Not everyone suffers from this, but it is a problem.

The video below provides a touching reminder that the truer purpose of a gift is the well-being of another and the love we can show at Christmas.

The basic scene is that two snowmen are built, a kind of husband-and-wife, snowman family. But one has, and the other has not. Seeing his wife’s need, the husband snowman sets out, enduring great hardship and overcoming many obstacles, in order to get for his wife what she needs. The greatest gifts are those that show care for another.

Through the window, the “creator” of the snowman watches this act of love unfold. At the touching end of the video, the creator is very pleased.

And so, too, our Creator and Lord is watching from the window of Heaven, and He is pleased with our acts of mercy as well.

The greatest things in life aren’t things; they are those we love. And the greater gift this Christmas is not so much the things we give, as it is the care and love we extend through those gifts, and the shared gift of our very selves.

Love of the World Fuels the Fear of Death – A Meditation on a Teaching of St. Cyprian

Blog11-26As November winds down and Advent approaches, the traditional meditation we make on the four last things (death, judgment, Heaven, and Hell) is still operative. A classic writing by St. Cyprian comes to mind. It is a meditation on the fundamental human struggle to be free of undue attachment to this world and to have God (and the things awaiting us in Heaven) as our highest priority.

In writing this meditation, St. Cyprian had in mind the Book of James and the Epistle of St. John. Yes, surely these dramatic texts were present in his mind as he wrote. Hence, before pondering St. Cyprian’s writing, it may be good to reference these forceful and uncompromising texts:

You adulterous people, don’t you know that friendship with the world is hatred toward God? Anyone who chooses to be a friend of the world becomes an enemy of God … Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded (James 4:4, 8).

Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For everything in the world–the cravings of sinful man, the lust of his eyes and the boasting of what he has and does–comes not from the Father but from the world. The world and its desires pass away, but the man who does the will of God lives forever (1 John 2:15-17).

And remember the words of the Lord Jesus:

No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money (Matt 6:24).

Nothing is perhaps more difficult to imagine, especially for us moderns, than being wholly free of the enticements of the world. These texts, so adamant and uncompromising, shock us with their sweeping condemnation of “the world.” For who can really say that he has no love for the world?

We may, however, be able to find temporary refuge in making a distinction. The adulterous love of attachment and the preference for the world over its creator is certainly to be condemned. Yet surely the love for what is good, true, and beautiful in the world is proper. St. Paul speaks of those things “which God created to be received with thanksgiving by those who believe and who know the truth. For everything God created is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving, because it is consecrated by the word of God and prayer” (1 Tim 4:3-5).

This distinction, though proper, cannot provide most of us with full cover, since we also know that the adulterous love of this world is still aplenty in our soul, however much noble love we also have. And the lust of the world is more than willing to sacrifice the good, the true, and the beautiful (not to mention God Himself) for baser pleasures.

Only God can free us. And while some are gifted to achieve remarkable poverty of spirit before departing this life, most of us are not ultimately freed from the lust of this world until God uses the dying process itself to free us. Slowly, we die to this world as we see our appearance, skills, and strengths begin to fade with age. As old age sets in we say farewell to friends, perhaps our spouse, and maybe our home as well. Our eyesight, hearing, and general health begin to suffer many and lasting assaults; complications begin to set in.

For those who are faithful (and I have made this journey with many an older parishioner as well as some of my family members), it begins to become clear that what matters most is not here in this world, that our true treasure is in Heaven with God. A gentle longing for what is above grows. For those who are faithful, the lust of this world slowly dies as we let God do His work.

Yet too many, even among those who believe, resist this work of God’s. While a natural fear of death is to be expected, too many live in open denial of and resistance to what is inevitable. Our many medicines and creature comforts help maintain the illusion that we can hold on to this world, and some people try to tighten their grip on it. A natural fear of death is supplanted by a grasping, clinging fear, rooted in a lack of faith and desire for God.

And this is where we pick up with St. Cyprian:

How unreasonable it is to pray that God’s will be done, and then not promptly obey it when he calls us from this world!

Instead we struggle and resist [death] like self-willed slaves and are brought into the Lord’s presence with sorrow and lamentation, not freely consenting to our departure, but constrained by necessity.

And yet we expect to be rewarded with heavenly honors by him to whom we come against our will! Why then do we pray for the kingdom of heaven to come if this earthly bondage pleases us? What is the point of praying so often for its early arrival if we should rather serve the devil here, than reign with Christ?

The world hates Christians, so why give your love to it instead of following Christ, who loves you and has redeemed you?

John is most urgent in his epistle when he tells us not to love the world by yielding to sensual desires. Never give your love to the world, he warns, or to anything in it. A man cannot love the Father and love the world at the same time. All that the world offers is the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and earthly ambition. The world and its allurements will pass away, but the man who has done the will of God shall live forever.

Our part, my dear brothers, is to be single-minded, firm in faith, and steadfast in courage, ready for God’s will, whatever it may be.

Banish the fear of death and think of the eternal life that follows. That will show people that we really live our faith.

We ought never to forget, beloved, that we have renounced the world. We are living here now as aliens and only for a time. When the day of our homecoming puts an end to our exile, frees us from the bonds of the world, and restores us to paradise and to a kingdom, we should welcome it.

What man, stationed in a foreign land, would not want to return to his own country as soon as possible? Well, we look upon paradise as our country, and a great crowd of our loved ones awaits us there, a countless throng of parents, brothers and children longs for us to join them. Assured though they are of their own salvation, they are still concerned about ours. What joy both for them and for us to see one another and embrace! O the delight of that heavenly kingdom where there is no fear of death! O the supreme and endless bliss of everlasting life!

There is the glorious band of apostles, there, the exultant assembly of prophets, there, the innumerable host of martyrs, crowned for their glorious victory in combat and in death. There, in triumph, are the virgins who subdued their passions by the strength of continence. There the merciful are rewarded, those who fulfilled the demands of justice by providing for the poor. In obedience to the Lord’s command, they turned their earthly patrimony into heavenly treasure.

My dear brothers, let all our longing be to join them as soon as we may. May God see our desire, may Christ see this resolve that springs from faith, for he will give the rewards of his love more abundantly to those who have longed for him more fervently (Treatise on Mortality: Cap 18:24, 26: CSEL 3, 308, 312-314).

Amen.

As November ends and Advent begins, remember the four last things: death, judgment, Heaven, and Hell. Prepare to meet God eagerly. Run toward Him with joy and confidence, calling on Him who made you for Himself. Death will surely come. Why not let it find you joyful, victorious, and confident—eager to meet God?

Some Thoughts to Help Deepen Gratitude

Thanksgiving_11-25True gratitude is a grace, or gift, from God. It proceeds from a humble and transformed heart. In such a case we do not render thanks merely because it is polite or expected, or because God commands it, but because it naturally flows from a profound experience of gratitude. The “command” of Scripture to give thanks is not a moralism, but a truth and a description of what flows from a transformed heart.

Thus, an anointing to seek from God is the powerful transformation of our intellect and our heart so that we become deeply aware of the remarkable gift that is everything we have. As this awareness deepens so does our gratitude and joy at the “magnificent munificence” of our God. Everything—literally everything—is a gift from God.

Permit me a few thoughts on the basis for a deepening awareness of gratitude. Ultimately, gratitude is a grace, but having a deeper awareness of its intellectual basis can help to open us more fully to this gift.

  1. We are contingent beings who depend on God for our very existence. He holds together every fiber of our being: every cell and every part of every cell, every molecule and every part of every molecule, every atom and every part of every atom. God facilitates every function of our body: every beat of our heart, the functioning of every organ, and the movement of our body. God sustains every intricate detail of the world in which we live: the perfectly designed orbit of our planet so that we neither boil nor freeze; the magnetic shield that protects Earth from harmful aspects of solar radiation; and every intricate process of our planet, solar system, galaxy, and universe. All of this, including us, is sustained by God and provided for by Him. The depth, height, length, and width of what God does is simply astonishing. And He does it all free of charge. As we ponder such goodness and providence we are helped to be more grateful. All is gift.
  2. Every good thing you or I do is a gift from God. St. Paul says, What have you that you have not received? And if you have received, why do you glory as though you had achieved? (1 Cor 4:7). Elsewhere he writes, For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do (Eph 2:8-10). Hence even our good works are not our gift to God; they are His gift to us. On Judgment Day we cannot say to God, “Look what I’ve done, you owe me Heaven.” All we can say is “Thank you! All is gift!”
  3. Gifts sometimes come in strange packages. There are some gifts of God that don’t seem like gifts at all. There are sudden losses, tragedies, and natural disasters. In such moments it is easy to feel forsaken by God, and gratitude is probably the last thing on our mind. But here, too, Scripture bids us to look more closely: And we know that all things work together for the good of those who love God and who have been called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28). We don’t always know how, but even in difficult moments God is making a way unto something good. He is paving a path unto glory, perhaps through the cross, but unto glory. Jesus has said to us, But I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy. On that day you will have no more questions to ask me (Jn 16:22-23). Yes, even in our difficulties we are more than conquerors (Rm 8:37) because the Lord can write straight with crooked lines and make a way out of no way. All is gift!
  4. Yes, all is gift. Absolutely everything is a gift. If we are in Christ, then even our failures are a gift, for we can learn from them and they can teach us humility. For what shall we give thanks? For everything! All is gift!
  5. There is an old saying, Justice is when you get what you deserve. Mercy is when you don’t get what you deserve. Grace is when you get what you don’t deserve. Like you, I get asked a dozen times a day, “How are you?” I have trained myself to answer, “More blessed than I deserve.” Yes, all is gift.
  6. Finally, the word “thanks” in English is unfortunately abstract. In Latin and the romance languages, the word for “thanks” is far more closely tied to the notions of grace and gifts. In Latin one says, “Thank you” by saying, Gratias ago tibi,” or simply, Gratias.” Although gratias is translated as “thanks,” it is really the same word that is translated as “grace” or “gift” (gratia). Hence when one receives a gift one exclaims, “Grace!” or “Gift!” It is the similar with the Spanish Gracias and Italian Grazie. Thank you in French is Merci, which comes from the Latin merces, meaning something that has been paid for or given freely. All these languages display the giftedness underlying everything for which we are grateful. The English word “thanks” does not quite make the connection. About the closest we get are the related words gratitude and grateful. All of these words (gratias, gracias, grazie, merci, and gratitude) teach us that everything is a gift!

Ultimately, gratitude is a gift to be received from God. We ought to ask for it humbly. We can dispose ourselves to it by reflecting on things such as those discussed above, but ultimately gratitude comes from a humble, contrite, and transformed heart. Saying “thank you” is not a moralism. True gratitude is a grace, a gift that comes from a heart deeply moved, astonished, and aware of the fact that all is gift.

The Not-so-Nice Origins and Meanings of the Word “Nice”

Blog11-24Words can change meaning over time—sometimes dramatically. For example, “manufactured” originally meant “handmade” (manu (hand) + facere (make)). The word “decimate” used to mean “to reduce by a tenth” (decem = ten); now people usually use it mean “to wipe out completely.” The list of examples could go on and on. Yes, words do change meaning over time.

One word that has changed meaning dramatically over time is “nice.” Today it is an overused word that usually means pleasant, kind, or easygoing. In our culture there is often a standing admonition that we should be nice, as in “Stop fighting and be nice now!”

But the adjective “nice” once meant anything but nice in the modern sense. Rather, it was a derogatory word used to describe a person as something of a fool.

The word “nice” comes from the Latin nescius, meaning “ignorant, unaware” (ne (not) + scire (know)). The Old French word “nice” (12th century) also came from this Latin root and meant “careless, clumsy, weak, simple, foolish, or stupid.”

In the 13th century, “nice” meant “foolish, stupid, or senseless.” In the 14th century, the word started to morph into meaning “fussy, fastidious.” In the 15th century it meant “dainty, delicate.” In the 1500s it was used to mean “precise, careful.” By the 18th century it shifted to meaning “agreeable, delightful.” And by the 19th century it had acquired its current connotation of “kind and thoughtful.”

The word “nice” has certainly had a tortured history!

Given its older meaning of “ignorant, stupid, or foolish,” it is not surprising that the word “nice” is used only twice in the Douay-Rheims Bible, and in both cases pejoratively.

Today the word can have a meaning that is properly praiseworthy and is basically a synonym for “good.” For example, one might comment, “That was a nice distinction you made.” Or, observing a sporting event, one might say, “That was a nice move!”

However, I am also convinced that the word “nice” is beginning to return to its less noble meanings. This takes place when it is used in a reductionist manner that seeks to simplify the entire moral life to being “nice.” Here, nice is used in the sense of being pleasant and agreeable. To the modern world, in which “pseudo-tolerance” is one of the only “virtues” left, being nice is about the only commandment left. It seems that much will be forgiven a person just so long as he is “nice.” And little will be accepted from a person who is not thought of as “nice.”

I suppose niceness has its place, but being nice is too akin to being harmless, to being someone who introduces no tension and is most often agreeable. As such, a nice person is not so far away from being a pushover, one who is easily manipulated, silenced, and pressured into tacit approval. And thus “nice” begins to move backward into its older meanings: dainty, agreeable, weak, simple, and even further back into weak, simple, unaware, and ignorant.

The pressure to “be nice” easily translates into pressure to put a dumb grin on your face and pretend that things are great even when they’re not. And to the degree that we succumb to this pressure, we allow those who seek to shame us if we aren’t nice get to watch with glee as we walk around with s dumb grin. And they get to think of us, “What an ignorant fool. What a useful idiot.” And thus “nice” takes up its original meaning.

We follow a Lord who was anything but a harmless hippie, or a kind pushover. He introduced tension, was a sign of contradiction, and was opposed by many because he didn’t always say and do pleasant things. Not everything he said was “nice.” He often used strong words: hypocrites, brood of vipers, whitewashed tombs, murderers of the prophets, and evildoers. He warned of judgment and Hell. He spoke in parables about burning cities, doom, destruction, wailing and grinding of teeth, and of seeing enemies slain. These are not kind words, but they are loving words, because they seek to shock us unto conversion. They speak to us of our true state if we remain rebels. Jesus certainly didn’t end up nailed to cross by being nice in any sense of the word.

In the end, “nice” is a weird word. Its meaning has shifted so many times as to be practically without a stable meaning. Today it has further degraded and increasingly returned to its original meaning. Those who insist on the importance of being “nice” usually mean it for you, but not for themselves. They want to have you walk around with a silly grin on your face, being foolishly pleasant, while they laugh behind your back.

To be sure, being “nice” in its best modern sense has its place. We surely should not go around acting like a grouch all day. But just as being nice has its place, so does being insistent, bold, and uncompromising.

Whence Comes the Special Resistance to Christ? A Meditation on a Teaching from Joseph Sobran

Blog11-23I have started reading through a recently published book called Subtracting Christianity: Essays on American Culture and Society. It is an anthology of the writings of Joseph Sobran (1946-2010), long-time editor at National Review and a keen observer of culture and its intersection with faith. I recommend it highly, for its penetrating observations and its sober portrait of what happens when we remove Christianity from our culture, the same Christianity that was fundamental in our making.

I’d like to present just a short passage from the first article in the book, and then add some feeble comments of my own. I’m sure that as I read through the articles I will post more reflections, but for today, I offer just this brief meditation.

Sobran writes beautifully of the strange resistance that the world has for Christ:

Great as Shakespeare is, I never lose sleep over anything he said … By the same token nobody ever feels guilty about anything Plato or Aristotle said … We aren’t tempted to resist them as we are tempted to resist Christ (Subtracting Christianity pp. 1-2).

I have often pondered the world’s special hatred for and resistance to Christ and His Body, the Church; it is unparalleled. Few of the Protestant denominations experience this hatred. The Buddhists don’t seem to be subject to it, nor do the Muslims even despite all the recent terrorism.

There is almost a knee-jerk, visceral reaction to Jesus Christ and His Catholic Church that is so over the top, so irrational, that one has to marvel at it. The world doth protest too much. Why?

Is it fear? Perhaps. But the Church is not powerful enough to “force our views” on everyone, as some who hate us say we do.

There is no rational explanation for the intense fear and hatred of the world for Christ and Catholicism except to echo the words of Christ Himself:

If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you. If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you. Remember the word that I said to you: ‘A servant is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you. If they kept my word, they will also keep yours. But all these things they will do to you on account of my name, because they do not know him who sent me. If I had not come and spoken to them, they would not have been guilty of sin, but now they have no excuse for their sin. Whoever hates me hates my Father also. If I had not done among them the works that no one else did, they would not be guilty of sin, but now they have seen and hated both me and my Father. But the word that is written in their Law must be fulfilled: ‘They hated me without cause’ (Jn 15:18-25).

Yes, they hated Him without cause—at least any rational cause. For indeed, there must be a cause. But it is so irrational and hateful that I surmise it must be that Satan himself is interacting with our flesh. Satan hates Christ in a way that he doesn’t hate Mohammed, or Luther, or Deepak Chopra. Christ is a true threat, so Satan rages. And the world and flesh draw from this rage and fear.

Think I’m exaggerating? Try to get excerpts from the Quran studied in public school and the reaction is almost non-existent. But try to get a gospel studied and the lawsuits and public outrage are nearly instantaneous. Why do the “Christmas wars” target not only nativity sets and Santa (who, by the way, is a secular remake of St. Nicholas), but now even the colors red and green? Talk about excessive and over-the-top; the rage and fear is out of control!

Sobran says it well: Christ makes people lose sleep in ways that others do not. His words and teachings touch a core that others never do. That the world bristles is a compliment. Jesus Christ has to be taken seriously. You may be mad, or sad, or glad, but no one goes away from Jesus Christ unchanged or merely “informed.” His words have an authority that demand a response. And the world seems to know this and thus bristles at Jesus. Some love Him, some hate Him, but few are neutral to Him.

Ask yourself, “Why is this so?” Could it be that Christ really is who He says He is: Lord and God? Could it be that it is His voice echoing in your conscience? Call this the argument from irrational hatred and fear. Rank it up there with the argument from motion or the argument from design. This strange, irrational, and excessive fear; this anger toward and even hatred of Christ attests to the truth of His claims to be the One whom we will either love or hate. We cannot serve two masters (cf Mat 6:24).

Shakespeare doesn’t make you lose sleep, neither does Plato or Aristotle. Why is that?

To every secularist and atheist, I direct these questions: Why do you protest Christ and His Church so much? Why do you exaggerate our power? If we really are irrelevant, if our “day is over” and we are laughably outdated, then why the fear, anger, and protest? Do our “myths” scare you? But if they are mere myths, then why the fear and protest? Why don’t you direct the same wrath at Buddha? Is it that still, small voice in your conscience?

What is it? Why your sleepless wrath?

Sobran observes the odd spectacle of greater intensity for Christ from his opponents than his friends in these words:

Sometimes I think the anti-Christian forces take Christ more seriously than most nominal Christians do…[Indeed] Such a strong and unique personality [as Christ had] could only meet strong and unique resistance. That is why Christians shouldn’t resent the resistance of those who refuse to celebrate his birth [and protest us doing so]. In their way, these people are his witnesses too. (Ibid pp 7-8)

Advent Is a Drama of Light and Darkness – Pondering a Season Soon to Come Upon Us

blog11-22The Feast of Christ the King (celebrated yesterday) signals the end of the liturgical year. This coming Sunday marks the beginning of Advent and a new liturgical year. Perhaps then we do well to prepare by taking a look ahead just past Thanksgiving.

Many people think of Advent merely as being “pre-Christmas” time: office parties, shopping, decorating, and baking. But in the Church, Advent is more a penitential period, a time of preparation for both the Christmas Feast and the Second Coming of the Lord. The purple vestments signal penance. The faithful are encouraged to go to Confession, and the liturgical texts and readings emphasize readying for the coming of the Lord.

The theme of preparation (and much of the season itself) is couched in the dramatic struggle between light and darkness. This makes sense (at least in the northern hemisphere, where the darkness deepens and the days grow shorter). In these darkest days of the year, we light candles and sing hymns that speak of the light that will come: Jesus the true Light of the World. Let’s take a look at Advent in three ways.

I. The Symbols of Darkness and Light Outside, there is a great drama of light and darkness unfolding before us. The light is giving way to darkness. Here in the northern hemisphere, the days are getting very short, and they’re going to get even shorter. Here in Washington, D.C. it is dark by 5:00 PM. On cloudy days, it is nearly dark by 4:00 PM. My brothers both live farther north: one in St. Paul and the other in Seattle. It gets dark even earlier there. There’s even a famous quote in this vein (probably by Yogi Berra), “It’s getting late very early out there.”

For us who live in modern times, the drama is less obvious. It is little more than an annoyance, as we must switch on the lights earlier. But think of those who lived not long before us in an age before electric lighting. Perhaps it was possible to huddle near a candle, oil lamp, or fire, but the darkness put a real stop to most things. Neither work, nor reading, nor most forms of recreation could take place. Darkness was a significant impediment.

Some years ago, during a widespread power outage, I was struck at just how incredibly dark it was outside at night without the streetlights and the lights emanating from homes. Frankly, it was hard to venture out. I lost my bearings quickly and stumbled over some simple things like a curb and a fencepost. We moderns just aren’t used to this. Once, I toured Luray Caverns in the nearby Shenandoah Mountains. At the bottom of the caverns, hundreds of feet down, the tour guide gathered us near the center of a large cave and shut off the lights. The darkness was overwhelming. It was an almost physical feeling. I felt a slight wave of panic sweep over me and was relieved when the lights came back on. I wondered, “Is this what it’s like to be blind?” Yes, light is very precious.

And so here in a “deep and dark December,” the light continues to recede. The spiritual impact of this drama of light is brought into the Church. Our hymns turn to images of light. The darker it gets, the more candles we light on the Advent wreath. In the darkest days of December, our Advent wreath is at its brightest. As Scripture says, The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it … The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world (John 1:5, 9). An old prayer says, Within our darkest night you kindle a fire that never dies away.

As the drama of light and darkness outside continues, we arrive at December 21st and 22nd—the shortest, darkest days of the year. By December 23rd, the ancients could detect a slight return of the light; the morning star began to herald something new, something brighter.

People, look East. The time is near
Of the crowning of the year …
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the guest, is on the way.

And then, on December 24th, in the middle of one of the longest nights of the year, the liturgy of Christmas begins: Christ is born and on December 25th a new light shines. From then on, the days get longer.

Yes, a great drama of light is unfolding before us; it is Advent. It is a time to recognize our need for the light and just how precious is Jesus, the Light of the World. In these darkest days, ponder the beauty of the light. There are so many Advent hymns that set forth the dramatic images of light, darkness, and expectancy. They are too numerous to list here, but here are some samples: Advent hymns that speak to the Light.

Of course, this external drama of light and darkness in nature is but a symbol of the great struggle between light and darkness in our world, our culture, our own hearts, and the hearts of all whom we love. It is the greatest drama of each of our lives. Will we choose to walk in the light or will we prefer the darkness? Our choice will determine our destiny. Judgment day is coming and we must be prepared by embracing the light of God’s truth and Jesus Himself, who is the Light of the World.

Thus, in Advent, we are summoned to understand how bad the darkness of sin really is, and we are warned to prepare for the coming judgment. Almost all the readings of the first two weeks of Advent speak to this theme of warning and readiness. The Dies Irae, which most associate with the Latin Requiem Mass, was actually written as a hymn for the Second Sunday of Advent.

Now, of course, some may protest such “negative” themes for Advent. But remember, if we aren’t aware of the bad news, then the good news is no news. Hence, this Advent reflection on the seriousness of the dark reality of sin is to prepare us for even greater joy at the birth of a Savior, who is the Light of the World and can lead us out of the dark tomb of sin into the wonderful light of grace.

Hence, the symbols of light and darkness point to a real drama and remind us to be sober and serious about the trouble we’re in, why we really need a savior, and how good it is to greet the Light of the World … IF we are prepared.

II. Our Stance to the Light and Darkness – Ultimately we are either facing the light and welcoming Him, or facing and in the darkness. These are the only two stances possible. There is no third way. Are you walking in the light or are you standing in the darkness?

This is Our Moral Stance. Scripture warns in many places about the two ways of light and darkness, and admonishes us to stand and walk in the light. Here are just a few:

  1. Besides this you know what hour it is, how it is full time now for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed; the night is far gone, the day is at hand. Let us then cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light; let us conduct ourselves becomingly as in the day, not in reveling and drunkenness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, not in quarreling and jealousy. But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires (Ro 13:11–14).
  2. But as to the times and the seasons, brethren, you have no need to have anything written to you. For you yourselves know well that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night. When people say, “There is peace and security,” then sudden destruction will come upon them as travail comes upon a woman with child, and there will be no escape. But you are not in darkness, brethren, for that day to surprise you like a thief. For you are all sons of light and sons of the day; we are not of the night or of darkness. So then let us not sleep, as others do, but let us keep awake and be sober. For those who sleep, sleep at night, and those who get drunk are drunk at night. But, since we belong to the day, let us be sober, and put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation. For God has not destined us for wrath, but to obtain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, 10 who died for us so that whether we wake or sleep we might live with him. Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing (1 Th 5:1–11).
  3. The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is sound, your whole body will be full of light; but if your eye is not sound, your whole body will be full of darkness.  If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness! (Mt 6:22-24)
  4. And we have the prophetic word made more sure. You will do well to pay attention to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts (2 Pe 1:19).

Thus, we are warned what time it is, that judgment draws ever closer, and that we must walk and stand in the light and not be like those in darkness. The Advent season acknowledges the reality of deepening darkness, and reminds us that we must all the more run to the coming light, Jesus. We must walk in the light of His truth as set forth in His Word, in the teachings of the Church, and in creation. We must seek the enlightenment of the Sacraments and live in honesty, integrity, and mutual fellowship with the Lord’s Body, the Church. This is to be our moral stance: toward the light and away from the darkness.

This is Our Liturgical Stance. – Since we are discussing the season of Advent, we might also do well to mention something of our liturgical stance as well. Over the past few decades, our liturgical stance has become muddled and, I would argue, somewhat incoherent. What used to be the clear stance of a community facing East has become an increasingly closed circle, a community closed in on itself, too often singing of itself and referring to itself in song and self-congratulatory applause. We have discussed these problems often here on this blog. Until about 1965, the almost-universal liturgical stance was of a community all facing one direction (liturgical East, symbolized by the crucifix more than by the compass), and being led there by a celebrant who could see where he was going. The celebrant, as alter Christus, represented Christ leading His people to the Father in adoration and thanksgiving. The priest, as a man, stood at the head of the community looking for Christ to come again. Scripture quite frequently attests that God will come “from the East.” (Again “East” is less a matter of the compass than of the entire community looking toward the liturgical East, the Cross.)

Looking to the East for God to come is not the arbitrary notion of a primitive religion. It is well-documented in Scripture and makes sense based on the fact that the East is where the light comes from. Physical light is a symbol of the True Light, who is our Lord and God, Jesus Christ. Here are just a few references from Scripture:

  1. For as the lightning comes from the east and shines as far as the west, so will be the coming of the Son of man (Mt 24:27–28).
  2. Look toward the east, O Jerusalem, and see the joy that is coming to you from God! (Bar 4:36)
  3. Afterward he brought me to the gate, the gate facing east. And behold, the glory of the God of Israel came from the east; and the sound of his coming was like the sound of many waters; and the earth shone with his glory. And the vision I saw was like the vision which I had seen when he came to destroy the city, and like the vision which I had seen by the river Chebar; and I fell upon my face. As the glory of the LORD entered the temple by the gate facing east, the Spirit lifted me up, and brought me into the inner court; and behold, the glory of the LORD filled the temple (Eze 43:1–5).
  4. Sing to God, ye kingdoms of the earth: sing ye to the Lord: Sing to God, who mounts above the heaven of heavens, to the east. Behold he will give to his voice the voice of power: give ye glory to God for Israel, his magnificence, and his power is in the clouds! (Psalm 68:32-34)

This is not intended to be a full-length treatment of the “Ad orientem” question regarding the stance of the priest and the people. Reasonable people differ on this matter in terms of what to do today. I only wish to note that in many ways our liturgical stance has become muddled. If it is true that our stance should be toward the Light, then why are we facing all sorts of different and “opposing” directions in the liturgy? Why do we not all face East together for the great Eucharistic Prayer, as we did for over 19 centuries?

While it is fitting that the Liturgy of the Word be celebrated toward the people, it seems that the Eucharistic Prayer is more suitably proclaimed with the whole community (priests included) facing to the East—toward God. For it is to God that the prayer is directed and it is to God that the people are led in admiration, thanksgiving, and pilgrimage.

The Advent hymn says it well: “People look East, the time is near!”

III. The Summons to the Light Having laid out the great drama of light and darkness and heard that we should take a stand for and toward the light, we note that Advent also proclaims, through a series of biblical texts and prayers, a warning to those who either reject the light outright or just fail to prepare for it. Here are just a few biblical texts:

  1. Therefore I have hewn them by the prophets, I have slain them by the words of my mouth, and my judgment goes forth as the light (Ho 6:5).
  2. Behold, the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.’ Then all those maidens rose and trimmed their lamps. And the foolish maidens said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ But the wise replied, ‘Perhaps there will not be enough for us and for you; go rather to the dealers and buy for yourselves.’ And while they went to buy, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went in with him to the marriage feast; and the door was shut. Afterward the other maidens came also, saying, ‘Lord, lord, open to us.’ But he replied, ‘Truly, I say to you, I do not know you.’ Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour (Mt 25:6–11).
  3. For behold, the day comes, burning like an oven, when all the arrogant and all evildoers will be stubble; the day that comes shall burn them up, says the LORD of hosts, so that it will leave them neither root nor branch. 2 But for you who fear my name the sun of righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings (Mal 4:1–2).
  4. For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.  For God sent the Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him. He who believes in him is not condemned; he who does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God. 19 And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil.  For every one who does evil hates the light, and does not come to the light, lest his deeds should be exposed. But he who does what is true comes to the light, that it may be clearly seen that his deeds have been wrought in God (Jn 3:16–21).

There is not sufficient time in this post to comment on each of the texts above except to say that they summon us to the light in a spirit of readiness, having first prepared ourselves by becoming accustomed to the light and the fire of God’s love. If we are not ready, the light will seem blinding and the fiery love unbearable, and we will recoil in wrath, rather than rejoice in wonder.

Pay attention to these Advent themes. It’s getting late very early these days. Consider this a warning from the natural world (the Book of Creation), which the Church picks up in her liturgy. Prepare the way of the Lord! Repent! The Kingdom of God is at hand. Walk in the light! If we do, then light, all glorious and unending, will be ours.

There shall no more be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it, and his servants shall worship him; 4 they shall see his face, and his name shall be on their foreheads.  And night shall be no more; they need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they shall reign for ever and ever (Re 22:3–5).

This is our future, if we are faithful and allow the Lord to enlighten us now so that we can love the future light of ten thousand megawatts. Walk in the Light!

A blessed Advent to all, beginning Sunday!

Is Christ Really Your King? A Homily for the Feast of Christ the King

blog-11-21On the feast of Christ the King, we are called to acknowledge that Jesus is in fact our King. It is one thing to say that He is our King because the song in Church says that, or the preacher says that, or the Bible says that (yes, faith does come by hearing). But it is quite another for us to personally say that Jesus is our King. There comes a time when we must personally affirm what the Church has always announced: “Jesus is Lord, and He is King. He is my king. He has authority in my life.” This must become more than just lip service. It must become a daily, increasing reality in our life.

Kings take care of us, but they also have the authority to command us. Can Christ command you or me? Or are we more like the typical modern person who doesn’t like to be told what to do? Or perhaps we suffer from the more mild form of this attitude in which we reduce Jesus to being a “harmless hippie” who just says pleasant things about peace and flowers but would never rebuke us or command us to repent.

And so, again, here is the question: “Is Jesus Christ your King?”

That brings us to today’s Gospel. Now the Gospels are not theater; we aren’t in the audience watching a story unfold that took place 2000 years ago. No, we are in the story. We are not just supposed to sit back and observe what Peter, or Pontius Pilate, or James, or Mary Magdalene does. They are we and we are they.

This means that when Jesus asks one of them a question, we cannot merely wait to see how he or she will answer. No, we have to answer the question.

In today’s Gospel the spotlight moves to Pontius Pilate. The Lord asks the critical question of him (i.e., of us). We cannot simply wait to see how Pilate answers. We have to answer. Let’s consider this Gospel in three stages.

I. INDECISION In a remarkable display of literary artistry, John and the Holy Spirit vividly depict the vacillation of Pontius Pilate. For in this Gospel passage of the trial of Jesus, Pilate goes in and out of the praetorium (the governor’s palace) more than a bellhop through the revolving door of a hotel! Indeed he goes in and out seven times. Here is the text, with the portions describing his motions highlighted in bold:

29So Pilate went out to them and said, “What accusation do you bring against this man?” …..33Pilate [re]entered the praetorium and called Jesus…..” 39After he had said this, he went out to the Jews again, and told them, “I find no crime in him…..1Then Pilate took Jesus [back into the praetorium] and scourged him…… 4Pilate went out again, and said to them, “See, I am bringing him out to you, that you may know that I find no crime in him….8When Pilate heard these words, he was the more afraid; 9he re-entered the praetorium and [spoke] to Jesus….12Upon this Pilate [went back out] and sought to release him, but the Jews cried out, “If you release this man, you are not Caesar’s friend…When Pilate heard these words, he brought Jesus out and he sat down on the judgment seat (John 18-19 selected verses).

Did you count them? Seven times, Pilate goes into or out of the praetorium! Such a picture of indecision and vacillation! He’s trying to please the crowds. He’s trying to please his wife (who had warned him to have nothing to do with that innocent man (Mat 27:19)). He’s trying to help Jesus. But he can’t decide, so in and out he goes!

Pilate is just like us. We say that we love God, but we also love the world. We want to please others and we want to please God, but we cannot do both. We have to decide. But instead we vacillate; we are Pilate. We are often locked in indecision, trying to please the world and God.

Is Pilate really so different from many of us? Faced with a crucial decision, he weighs the consequences that choosing Jesus will have on his career, his family, his loyalty to country and Caesar, and his access to power. And while we may rightfully criticize Pilate for his choice, is it not easy for us to make compromises with the world for the sake of similar things? How often does Jesus our King take a back seat to career, politics, convenience, and so forth? So easily do we stay rooted in vacillation, compromise, and indecision.

II. INQUIRY – And now, in the midst of all this indecision, comes the question.

Pilate begins with his own question: “Are you the King of the Jews?” (John 18:33) But Jesus, who is on trial, turns the tables on Pilate. Jesus effectively puts Pilate on trial by asking him the crucial question:

Are you saying this on your own or have others been telling you about me?” (John 18:34)

It’s a remarkable question! And guess what … You have to answer it. I have to answer it. Do not wait for Pilate; he already gave his answer and faced judgment long ago. How do we answer it?

Notice what the Lord is getting at with his question. He is asking you if you call him a King merely because you’ve heard others say it or because you personally know him to be a King. Is he really your King, or this just a slogan you’ve heard in church before? Do you believe that He is King or do you merely parrot what you’ve heard others say?

There is an old gospel song that says, “Yes, I know Jesus for myself.” But is that really the case with us? Too many of us are satisfied with a kind of inferential faith. Inferential faith is based merely on what others have said: I think or suppose (that is, I infer) that Jesus is Lord because my mother said so, or my pastor said so. This is a good beginning, for after all, faith comes by hearing (Rom 10:17).

But there comes a moment when you have to say so. It is not enough that your pastor says so or your mother says so. And thus Jesus is asking you and me right now, Are you saying [I am King] on your own or merely because others have said so?

Answer him! It’s a crucial question, isn’t it? The faith of the Church is essential, normative, and determinative. But at some point you have to step up and say that you personally affirm that the faith of the Church is true and is yours, and then declare, “Jesus is Lord and King.”

What does it mean that Jesus is King? A king has authority, doesn’t he? Does Jesus have authority in my life? Do I have the obedience of faith (Rom 1:5) and base my life upon His will?

A king also takes care of his people and protects them. Do I allow the Lord to feed me with the Holy Eucharist? Do I allow Him to protect me from the poison of sin by the Sacrament of Confession and the medicine of His Holy Word? Am I willing to live within the protection of the walled city of His Church?

Is the Lord really my King? How do I answer? Is it just a slogan or is His Kingship real? Let the Lord ask one more time,

Are you saying [I am King] on your own or have others been telling you about me?

III. IMPLICATION – You have to answer. To refuse to answer is to answer.

A fascinating and wondrous literary device is employed by John and the Holy Spirit in this Gospel passage. We have already seen how Jesus, who was Himself on trial, has turned the tables and effectively put Pilate on trial. Pilate, who has the duty to question Jesus, is now being questioned by Him. It is Pilate who must now make a decision, not so much about Jesus, but about himself. He has been asked a question that he cannot ultimately avoid, and now it is time to answer. Here is where the ingenious literary device comes into play. Look carefully at this passage from John’s Gospel and see if you notice anything strange about it.

Upon this [the shouting of Crucify him!] Pilate sought to release him, but the Jews cried out, “If you release this man, you are not Caesar’s friend; every one who makes himself a king sets himself against Caesar.” When Pilate heard these words, he brought Jesus out, and he sat down on the judgment seat at a place called The Pavement, and in Hebrew, Gabbatha (John 19:12-13).

So what is strange here? Well, notice that when Pilate has Jesus brought out, it says that “he” sat down on the judgment seat. Who exactly is sitting on the judgment seat? You might say, “Pilate, of course!” And historically, that might be true. But the text is ambiguous as to exactly who “he” is. Most Scripture scholars argue that the line is supposed to be ambiguous.

From the standpoint of historical facts it was likely Pilate who took that seat. But from the standpoint of divine justice it is Jesus who takes it.

Jesus has turned the tables on Pilate. Pilate is now on trial and the verdict is about to be revealed. Pilate seals his own fate when he hands Jesus over to be crucified; his vacillation is over. Pilate has made his choice; he has answered the question.

In this context it is Jesus who sits silently upon the judgment seat. The verdict is in. In deciding to hand Jesus over, in deciding to favor himself and the crowds over Jesus, Pilate has brought judgment on himself.

Too many of us have cartoonish notions about our final judgment: a benign Jesus giving us a great big hug, or an angry one gleefully passing judgment on His “enemies.” Perhaps there is also some notion of a review of our deeds, both good and bad, and then the pronouncing of some sort of verdict while we cringe and wait. But Jesus is not a King who imposes His Kingdom. He invites us to enter into His Kingdom. Ultimately, judgment is about our choice, not His.

Judgment is finally this: The Lord, who suffered for us, quietly and respectfully sits on the judgment seat and accepts our final choice, a choice that is the cumulative sum of all the choices we made in life, a choice that is now and forever fixed. Isn’t that what really happens?

The Lord has asked the question of Pilate, as he does of us. The choice is for Pilate to make and the judgement is one he brings on himself. His choice is either to accept the Lord’s kingship or to reject it and watch Jesus led away while he (Pilate himself) stands alone, the judgment having been rendered by virtue of his own choice.

Yes, there are implications to whether we accept the Lord as our King or not. Today, the Lord asks us all if we will let Him be our King. And to those of us who say yes, the Lord has this further question: “Are you saying this on your own or have others been telling you about me?” Is He really our King? Think hard about it. There are implications.

The question that we must answer has now been answered by Pilate. What is your answer? What is mine?