Homily
4th Sunday of Advent B
St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center at the University of Kansas
18 December 2011
Daily Readings
I have four brothers. They are all pretty good hunters. I am not. I decided a few years ago, after about four hours of conversation about hunting, during which I had nothing to add, that if I was going to be an active member of this family, that I needed my own hunting stories, that I had better at least go buy a shotgun and some camouflage. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. And I've enjoyed the last couple of years hunting with my dad and brothers and extended family. I don't get to hunt very often, but the times I have, have been great. In a way, it is remembering where I came from. I grew up on the plains of western Kansas. That's an important thing to know about me, and an important thing for me to remember about myself. It's important no matter where you're from. I'm 37 years old now, and I've traveled all around the world, but the one question that remains the same, no matter how old I get or how many people I meet, is the question - where are you from?
This question, if we care to look at it, is of greater value than just being a conversation starter. It can be that, and it can be fun to see how small the world really is, by comparing people that you know and places you've been. It's a good way to meet people, talking about where you're from. Yet the question holds a deeper value, a spiritual value you might say. Knowing where you're from is important to knowing who you are. Forgetting where you're from is the equivalent of saying that you don't know who you are.
Enter the story of David, who after his many heroic accomplishments enjoyed a great amount of wealth and security, and a nice cedar house to dwell in, yet felt guilty that the ark of the covenent dwelt in a tent. For a moment, David felt more secure than the Lord. Boy was he wrong. For a moment David thought that he was in a position to do something for the Lord, and forgot until corrected by the prophet Nathan that the Lord still stood ready to do something for David. The Lord reminded David of where he came from and who he was, Jesse's smallest and least significant shepherd boy. The Lord reminded David of all that he had done through David, with David and in David, and promised again what yet was to be accomplished, if David would only stand at the ready, and not pity the Lord. The Lord reminded David that not all that much had changed. He was still the Lord, and David was still David, that poor shepherd boy, if only David would remember who he was and where he came from. David needed reminding that it was the Lord who chose David, not vice versa.
Enter Mary, who as we hear in today's Gospel, inherits the great promise made to David and his posterity, who while still a little helpless girl not unlike the insignificant shepherd boy David when he was first chosen, is made greater than any good king like David or any imperfect king like Caesar ever was or ever will be. Mary is great because she remained poor, vulnerable and dependent. When the angel greeted her, Mary was as poor, vulnerable and dependent as the day she was born. Mary had not great worldly victories that we know of. She was a nobody. She was no great religious figure. She was young in a culture that valued age and a woman in a culture that offered women little security apart from men. Yet because she remained poor, vulnerable and dependent as the world sees, Mary was always aware of the most important thing: she knew who loved her the most and who she loved the most. That is what we learn from Mary. For those of us called to communion, not isolation, for those of who who have love as our origin, the reason we are here instead of not here, who have love as our constant calling, the reason we keep going instead of quitting, for those of us who have love as our perfection in heaven, where the deepest desires of the heart promise to be filled, we need to learn from Mary how to stay centered on this one question we can't afford to get wrong. Who loves me the most and who do I love the most? This question is best answered when we are poor, vulnerable and dependent - it is in these circumstances only that we have the chance to learn the most important thing we have to learn. It is in these circumstances only - poor, vulnerable and dependent, that we learn where we are from and who we really are. Nobody remained in these circumstances more perfectly than Mary.
David was disappointed that the Lord dwelt in an unworthy tent. Mary remembered what David forgot, that she was most unworthy, and had nothing to offer the Lord, which is why she welcomed the Lord under her roof more perfectly than David. David, for all his greatness and accomplishments, still saw the Lord as dwelling over there, under the tent. Mary surpasses David in listening to the angel declare - the Lord is with you. He is under your tent. She received the Christ child, then, not as the world receives him, not as you and I receive him, with fear or indifference, but with joy and expectation.
Thank God, then, that Mary is the first member of our Church! Thank God that she is with us. For we are not poor, nor vulnerable, nor dependent. When we look at the Christ child we rarely see ourselves, and even more rarely remember who we are or where we are from. But Mary is with us! She is on our team! She is the last and greatest Advent prophet, and she will prepare room in Her Church for the coming of the Lord. We are not ready for Christmas, but she is. So let us be with her, and pray that her Fiat might find an echo in us. Amen.
4th Sunday of Advent B
St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center at the University of Kansas
18 December 2011
Daily Readings
I have four brothers. They are all pretty good hunters. I am not. I decided a few years ago, after about four hours of conversation about hunting, during which I had nothing to add, that if I was going to be an active member of this family, that I needed my own hunting stories, that I had better at least go buy a shotgun and some camouflage. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. And I've enjoyed the last couple of years hunting with my dad and brothers and extended family. I don't get to hunt very often, but the times I have, have been great. In a way, it is remembering where I came from. I grew up on the plains of western Kansas. That's an important thing to know about me, and an important thing for me to remember about myself. It's important no matter where you're from. I'm 37 years old now, and I've traveled all around the world, but the one question that remains the same, no matter how old I get or how many people I meet, is the question - where are you from?
This question, if we care to look at it, is of greater value than just being a conversation starter. It can be that, and it can be fun to see how small the world really is, by comparing people that you know and places you've been. It's a good way to meet people, talking about where you're from. Yet the question holds a deeper value, a spiritual value you might say. Knowing where you're from is important to knowing who you are. Forgetting where you're from is the equivalent of saying that you don't know who you are.
Enter the story of David, who after his many heroic accomplishments enjoyed a great amount of wealth and security, and a nice cedar house to dwell in, yet felt guilty that the ark of the covenent dwelt in a tent. For a moment, David felt more secure than the Lord. Boy was he wrong. For a moment David thought that he was in a position to do something for the Lord, and forgot until corrected by the prophet Nathan that the Lord still stood ready to do something for David. The Lord reminded David of where he came from and who he was, Jesse's smallest and least significant shepherd boy. The Lord reminded David of all that he had done through David, with David and in David, and promised again what yet was to be accomplished, if David would only stand at the ready, and not pity the Lord. The Lord reminded David that not all that much had changed. He was still the Lord, and David was still David, that poor shepherd boy, if only David would remember who he was and where he came from. David needed reminding that it was the Lord who chose David, not vice versa.
Enter Mary, who as we hear in today's Gospel, inherits the great promise made to David and his posterity, who while still a little helpless girl not unlike the insignificant shepherd boy David when he was first chosen, is made greater than any good king like David or any imperfect king like Caesar ever was or ever will be. Mary is great because she remained poor, vulnerable and dependent. When the angel greeted her, Mary was as poor, vulnerable and dependent as the day she was born. Mary had not great worldly victories that we know of. She was a nobody. She was no great religious figure. She was young in a culture that valued age and a woman in a culture that offered women little security apart from men. Yet because she remained poor, vulnerable and dependent as the world sees, Mary was always aware of the most important thing: she knew who loved her the most and who she loved the most. That is what we learn from Mary. For those of us called to communion, not isolation, for those of who who have love as our origin, the reason we are here instead of not here, who have love as our constant calling, the reason we keep going instead of quitting, for those of us who have love as our perfection in heaven, where the deepest desires of the heart promise to be filled, we need to learn from Mary how to stay centered on this one question we can't afford to get wrong. Who loves me the most and who do I love the most? This question is best answered when we are poor, vulnerable and dependent - it is in these circumstances only that we have the chance to learn the most important thing we have to learn. It is in these circumstances only - poor, vulnerable and dependent, that we learn where we are from and who we really are. Nobody remained in these circumstances more perfectly than Mary.
David was disappointed that the Lord dwelt in an unworthy tent. Mary remembered what David forgot, that she was most unworthy, and had nothing to offer the Lord, which is why she welcomed the Lord under her roof more perfectly than David. David, for all his greatness and accomplishments, still saw the Lord as dwelling over there, under the tent. Mary surpasses David in listening to the angel declare - the Lord is with you. He is under your tent. She received the Christ child, then, not as the world receives him, not as you and I receive him, with fear or indifference, but with joy and expectation.
Thank God, then, that Mary is the first member of our Church! Thank God that she is with us. For we are not poor, nor vulnerable, nor dependent. When we look at the Christ child we rarely see ourselves, and even more rarely remember who we are or where we are from. But Mary is with us! She is on our team! She is the last and greatest Advent prophet, and she will prepare room in Her Church for the coming of the Lord. We are not ready for Christmas, but she is. So let us be with her, and pray that her Fiat might find an echo in us. Amen.
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