Fourth Sunday in Advent 2012
Verbum Domini
If the Word of the one true God, Jesus Christ our Lord, refused to disclose the day and hour of the end of the world, how is it that so many were convinced that an obscure Mayan rune, from a civilization long ago destroyed, could have accurately predicted it? In language Chesterton would have appreciated, our modern culture has refused to believe in God, so it will swallow any fable as long as it appears in the New York Times. I like to say instead: if you cut baloney thick enough, some people will think it’s steak.
Modern thinkers have tried to deconstruct everything except the Black Legend–the myth that everything that’s wrong with the world, and every evil in human history, has been the fault of the Catholic Church. In their thinking, all truth is relative, especially moral truth. “Every culture,” they say, “has its own system of morality, and no system is better than another as long as it works for them.” By that rationalization, even murderers can be good people. Try telling that to the grieving parents of Newtown, Connecticut.
Getting a PhD is no guarantee that one can distinguish between fact and fable. Michael J. Rust, interviewed recently about his work on how organisms re-establish a circadian rhythm after being exposed to altered day-night cycles, said this: “Evolution was trying to make the rate constant be a particular value rather than trying to just make it be fast.” Excuse me? Isn’t evolution just “blind chance”? He makes it look like something with the ability to plan and make decisions. Another materialist scientist claims that “mother Nature makes complex materials that are also functional, hierarchical, self-assembled.” These people would be all over me as a chemist if I made “God” the subject of those sentences, but at least my statement would have a rational basis, whereas theirs are utterly absurd.
By way of contrast, the absolutely true Word of God gets almost no press coverage, even though it is the best news in the history of the world. God loved the world so much that He gave us His only Son. We, for millennia, refused to do God’s will, even though that will was our only good. We rebelled over and over again, and continue to do so today. But Jesus took a human body and mind and will in the womb of the Blessed Virgin Mary and told His Father, “behold, I have come to do Thy Will.” And in doing so, in his conception, birth, childhood, teaching, suffering, death and resurrection, he restored all creation to the will of the Father. He earned the right to send on us His Holy Spirit so that we might be remade in the image of Jesus, and act in our day as Jesus and Mary acted in their day.
Dorothy Day in The Duty of Delight tells us more of what that means. It sounds much like the Blessed Virgin, whose mission of mercy to her relative, Elizabeth, is recounted in today’s Gospel: We recognize the dignity and glory of our adopted status as sons and daughters of God, and what that entails, and what abilities it confers. We expect everything of ourselves, with God’s grace, and refuse to judge others. We measure ourselves by the standard of God’s expectation of us, and by what talents he has given us to use. We do not compare ourselves to others. We don’t excuse our failure to do good by telling ourselves that nobody else is doing it. We are so far from dominating others that we decline to condemn them. This is folly by the world’s standards. Jesus could have judged the whole world and condemned it as He stood dying on the cross, yet he refused to do so. His prayer for us–and it’s valid every day–is “forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” And, one more thing, in Day’s words, “to serve all men, to obey all men, to wash the feet of all men, in love, recognizing our common humanity. . .to love our brothers because Christ is our brother. Because we are all children of Mary, Mother of God.” We look at our fellow humans as the Father did in the great story of the Prodigal. No judgement. “Only the madness of love, deep, profound, as profligate in its way as the son’s tawdry loves had been profligate.”
Elizabeth says to Mary, “Blessed is she who believed that the Lord’s Word would be fulfilled in her.” Do we believe that this same Word will be fulfilled in us? Do we have the faith, in particular, to see our role in the new evangelization? Do we love our fallen brothers and sisters enough to be ready to share with them the love of God in Word and Sacrament?
I recently got a followup call from a major retailer, asking me about their service. The final question was, “On a scale of 1 to 5, how likely is it that you will recommend our company to your friends?” That’s an evangelization question, isn’t it? I’ll tell you the chance that I will walk up to you and recommend any company to you. It’s not on a scale of 1 to 5. It’s zero unless you ask me! But attaining heaven and avoiding eternal separation from God is a lot more important than whom you call on to service your fridge. So I’ll ask you all, “On a scale of 1 to 5, how likely is it that you will recommend the Catholic Church and Jesus Christ to your friends?”
Only if they ask, you say. Well, let’s talk about how to increase the chances they might ask you. When people pass in the hall, one will say, “How are you?” And the other says “Fine” most of the time. That’s code for: I don’t want to be rude, but I have no time for you now and I bet you have no time for me. A few months ago I heard something on Catholic radio that I have adopted. When someone asks how I am, I say one word, “grateful.” That’s a conversation starter, and often it has started a deeper encounter. Do that for a few months with another word or two that is not a brush-off, that is a hopeful or encouraging word, and you’ll have the chance to share your faith, hope and love.
But do one more thing. Put together an elevator speech about your faith. You’ve heard of them from marketing people. An elevator speech is the couple of sentences that you’d use in a short elevator ride to market a product or service. In this case, it’s two sentences about your relationship with Christ in the Church that might generate interest in a friend or acquaintance. When asked, I might say, “I have found the what and where of my life search for meaning. The what is a who, Jesus Christ. The where is in the heart of the Catholic Church, with all its beauty and weak and hopeful humans.” As we, as Mary did, prepare for a re-dedication to Christ and the Church this Christmas, let’s put together a short statement of faith to share with friends and relatives, so that they may experience the joy and peace that comes with forgiveness and fellowship in the Church Christ established.
