Fr. Frank Majka, SJ – The Bridge

Looking and Finding

“Everything we knew brought us there, but nothing could prepare us for what we found.” So might the wise men have said when they reflected back on their journey to Bethlehem.

They knew they would find a king because their knowledge of the heavens told them that when a king was born, a star would appear, and all they had to do was follow that star. But they thought kings were found only in palaces seated on thrones. They didn’t expect to find one in a common dwelling sitting on his mother’s lap with no servants or courtiers in attendance.

We can relate to their experience if we have set out to find Christ in churches or the beauties of nature or when good things happen to us, but find him also in unexpected places and circumstances. Mother Teresa said she found Christ “in the dreadful disguise of the poor,” parents of disabled or mentally challenged children may find him in their child’s smile or spontaneous display of love, and homeless people, ignored by all those who pass them by, may find him when others treat them with respect.

St. Paul wrote that we should seek the Lord; but, like the wise men, when we find him it may come as a surprise. Have you found yourself looking for Christ lately? If you’ve found him, was he what or where you expected?

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January 10, 2012; 50 degrees —- Isn’t there supposed to be some white stuff on the ground?

Naming God

In the Old Testament, God revealed his name to Moses: “I-Am-Who-Am”. It was a sacred, mysterious name and the practice grew up of never pronouncing it aloud. God’s name and the way it was treated suggested the distance between him and us.

But in the New Testament, God reveals himself in Jesus in a human way, and Jesus’ name is far from mysterious. “Joshua” (the original version of ”Jesus”) was a common name, thus suggesting not mystery and distance but closeness and familiarity.

I think many of us default to being formal when relating with Jesus or the Father; we may think that it’s bad manners to be too casual with them since they are so high above us. But isn’t that the point of Jesus’ name being so common, namely, that it’s an attempt to show he wants us to relate to him as we would a partner, dear friend, or companion? And didn’t Jesus himself tell his disciples to call the Father “papa” when they prayed?

If we believe all this is so, then our relationship with Jesus and his Father may become much warmer and more natural than we had imagined proper or possible.

The Two Weeks of Christmas

If you say, “Merry Christmas!” to someone after December 25, you’ll probably get a puzzled look, for in our society, once the 25th has come and gone, Christmas is over. But for centuries, Christmas Day was really the beginning of a two-week period of celebration that went on until January 6 — two weeks when the events and meaning of Christmas could sink in and be celebrated.

What if this year we tried spending two weeks soaking in the reality and meaning of Christmas? What might we think about? If we cared to, we might spend two weeks thinking about all the changes that happened with the coming of Christ: a virgin became a mother, angels spoke to ordinary people, a dark winter sky suddenly filled with light and the sound of singing, practical-minded shepherds testified to amazing things they’d heard and seen, learned men set out from distant lands to follow a star, and, sadly, a small-minded tyrant became jealous and afraid of a little baby. And how has the coming of Christ changed us? Are we different because he was born?

No, Christmas isn’t over. It’s just begun. And we don’t need to pay attention to our overly busy culture’s telling us that it’s time to move on after a day. Christmas has too much for us to think and pray about for it to be over in 24 hours. Let’s take our time with it so that it can take its time with us.

Fiats

This is not a reflection about Italian cars. It’s about the word “fiat,” one of the most important in the Latin translation of the Bible, full of the power to create wonderful and amazing things. It’s almost a magic word, but it isn’t magic; it’s grace. It was first spoken when, the Scriptures tell us in the book of Genesis, God said, “Fiat lux!/Let there be light,” and there was light; and all the other stages of creation followed.

Untold ages later, a young girl in Judea said to an angel, “Fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum!/Let it be done to me according to your word!” Because of Mary’s acceptance God’s invitation to her — her “fiat” — the Son of God became human and God, who lives in unapproachable light, became a person we could see with our eyes, hear with our ears, and touch with our hands.

We say our own “fiats,” too. When couples vow to be husband and wife, in saying “I do” they’re really saying, “Fiat/Let there be” a new relationship between us and new life through us. And each time we say in the Lord’s prayer “Your will be done/Fiat voluntas tua” we pray that God establish his Kingdom here on earth.

As we begin this last week of Advent, we might think of the “fiat”s we have said and what, with God’s grace, has happened because of them.

Rejoice!

The clarion call for the third week of Advent is the simple command “Rejoice!”

Rejoicing is easy to do when things are going well, but not so easy if they aren’t, and in this life we encounter some things easy to bear but others almost impossible to carry. Yet even in these latter circumstances, the call is still “Rejoice!”

To raise the bar even more, the followers of Jesus are also expected to be touched by the joy and pain of others. The Second Vatican Council, in its document “The Church in the Modern World,” taught that “the joys and the hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of people, especially those who are poor or in any way afflicted, are the joys and hopes, the griefs and anxieties of the followers of Christ.”

Still, whether it’s a matter of one’s own or others’ joys, hopes, griefs and anxieties, Christian rejoicing takes root in the conviction that Christ has made his home with us and won’t ever leave our sides. And that’s clearly a reason to be joyful.