Lamp Lighting Time in Dark Days

A Jewish Menorah
Lamp-lighting Time in Dark Days

To the churched and unchurched[1]
gathered in a church not built by human hands[2]

November 29, 2009: First Sunday of Advent
Jeremiah 33:14-16 I Thessalonians 3:12-4:2 Luke 21:25-28, 34-36


First reading from the prophet Jeremiah

The days are coming, says the LORD, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the people of Israel and Judah. At that time, I will choose as king a righteous descendant of David. That king will do what is right and just in the land. The people of Judah and Jerusalem will be rescued and live in safety. The city will be called ‘The Lord Our Salvation.’”

The word of the Lord
Thanks be to God

Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to Luke
Glory to you, Lord.

Lk 21, vs. 25-28: Jesus said to His disciples: “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 people will see `the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven[3]’ with power and great glory. When these signs begin to happen, stand erect and raise your heads because your redemption is at hand.”

Lk 21, vs. 34-36: Then Jesus said to His disciples: “Be watchful! Don’t let your spirits become bloated with indulgence and drunkenness and worldly cares. That great day will suddenly close in on you like trap. It will come upon all who dwell on the face of the earth. So be watchful 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 Gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

-----------------------------
Introduction
Advent & Hanukkah 2009

Today November 29 is New Years Day in the church; today we exit Ordinary Time and enter into the Extraordinary Time of Advent in preparation for Christmas 2009. Today we also go from liturgical cycle B to cycle C for the scripture readings for 2009. The evangelist for cycle B was Mark; for cycle C it will be Luke (that great evangelist who records the very best of Jesus’ parables -- like the Good Samaritan, the Prodigal Son and the Rich Man and Lazarus. Those immortal parables are to be found only in evangelist Luke.

Today we also exchange the liturgical color green for penitential purple. That’s a leftover from pre-Vatican II days when Advent, like Lent, was considered a strictly penitential season which frowned on all partying, gift-giving and decorating before the 24th of December. Now Advent is considered to be more a season of joyful expectation instead of penance, and in some places the color purple has been exchanged for blue in honor of mother Mary and baby-boy Jesus.

This Sunday also we light the first of the four candles of the Advent wreath, as a kind of fourfold genuflection to Christmas - our feast of lights. And at this time of the year we remember also our Jewish brethren who at sundown on Friday, December 11 will light the first candle on their eight branch menorah (candelabra)[4], as they begin to celebrate Hanukkah 2009 – their feast of lights.

The apocalypse genre

The gospel reading today contains an apocalypse. That’s a literary genre foretelling supernatural cataclysmic events that will transpire at the end of time. The genre is a product of a Judeo-Christian tradition which appeared two centuries before and three centuries after Christ. An apocalypse is characterized by a narrative form with esoteric language, it expresses a deeply pessimistic view of the present and it foretells an imminent crisis and a universal judgment. But it also promises a supernatural resolution to a pessimistic and apparently insoluble state of affairs. The most famous and influential of the early Jewish apocalypses is to be found in the last part of the biblical Book of Daniel (chapters 7–12).

Contrary to popular belief, apocalypses were meant more to encourage people than to frighten them. They were written because the times were terribly tough, and the writer believed that only a cataclysmic intervention of God and His Messiah could fix matters. The apocalyptic strokes themselves were not to be taken literally, as some preachers like to do. It was the happy resolution to a pessimistic and insoluble situation that was the heart of the genre.
In today’s gospel Luke puts the apocalypse genre into the mouth of Jesus. [5] He has Him speaking about a cataclysmic event:

Then 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 there is a happy resolution to a humanly insoluble situation:
And then people will see “the Son of Man coming in a cloud” with power and great glory. When these signs begin to happen, stand erect and raise your heads because your redemption is at hand.

An apocalypse for Advent 2009

A painful recession has just now peaked at 10.2 percent unemployment. An endless and testy national debate about healthcare is now raging, and it is divided mostly along party lines; one side does its best to misrepresent the other. An unpopular war which began way back in October 2001 in Afghanistan rages on, with no end in sight. A war which numbers 4,682 casualties as of November 13, 2009 disheartens a war-weary nation. And if that were not enough, a horrific massacre in Fort Hood, Texas, killed 13 and wounded 29, as an Islamic extremist cried out “Allahu Akbar!” (“Allah is great!”) That has sent the nation into a state of collective grief and has many of us wondering what to do with angry Islam and political correctness.

The times are really tough this Advent of 2009; it seems that only some cataclysmic event at the end of time will put things right and do for us what we humans never seem able to do for ourselves.

He who came still comes

The apocalypse genre sees “the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory” only at the end of time. Christian theology joyfully claims that He, who came to us in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the King (Lk 2:1), still continues to come. “Be sure of this,” Jesus tells Hs disciples after His resurrection, “I am with you always, even to the end of time.” (Mt 28:20) He comes not just at the end of time, He comes now. He who came to us in Bethlehem of Judea continues today to come to us in “a great cloud of witnesses[6]” like Fr. Mychal Judge of New York City, Mother Theresa of Calcutta, Archbishop Hunthausen of Seattle, Bishop Untener of Saginaw, Auxiliary Bishop Gumbleton of Detroit, Sr. Joan Chittister and a whole host of smaller folk whom you and I know.

A Jew who saved Christmas

In that “great cloud of witnesses” is Aaron Feuerstein, a Jew who saved Christmas. Feuerstein was CEO and owner of Malden Mills, a fabric factory in Methuen, Massachusetts. He was also a devout Jew who read Shakespeare and the Talmud.[7] On the night of December 11, 1995 (six days before the beginning of Hanukah on the 17th that year, and also the very day Hanukkah begins this year of 2009), a surprise party was held for his seventieth birthday. During the party a boiler exploded and a devastating fire broke out which demolished a good part of his factory.

Feuerstein didn’t grab the insurance money and run as a sharp man of business would do. Instead the morning after the fire he assured all his 2400 employees that with God's help they would all get through that tragedy together. Then he gave them their pay-checks plus a $275 Christmas bonus and a $20 food coupon. Three days later on the night of Dec 14th in the gym of the Catholic High School where 1000 of his employees gathered to learn their fate, he made a startling announcement.

For the next 30 days, and it might be more, all our employees will be paid their full salaries. I think you already have been advised that your health insurance has been paid for the next 90 days. But over and above the money, the most important thing Malden Mills can do for our workers is to get you all back to work. By January 2, 1996, we will restart operations, and within 90 days, God willing, we will be 100 percent operational.

There was a moment of stunned disbelief, and then the workers rose to their feet cheering and hugging each other and also weeping. What a bright shining star is CEO Feuerstein in the darkness of corporate greed and a painful recession which is peaking at 10.2 percent unemployment as the curtain comes down on 2009! Time magazine[8] reported that Feuerstein was true to his word; he continued to pay his employees in full, at a cost of one and a half million dollars a week and at an average wage of twelve and a half dollars an hour. Later that same year, corporate America, stunned by such fiscal insanity and half-hearted capitalism, named him CEO of the Year!

Conclusion
Lamp-lighting time in dark days

Back in 1995 Hanukkah began at sundown on December 17 -- the day the Novena of Christmas began for Catholics. Three days after Aaron’s stunning announcement to his workers on December 14, he started to light the first of the eight candles on his menorah. After all were lit, Aaron’s menorah glowed luminously, particularly because it reflected the bright light that glowed from him. Today we start lighting the first of the four candles on our Advent wreath. And when they’re all lit, may our wreath also glow luminously, particularly because it reflects the bright light that glows from us.

[1]By the “the unchurched” is especially meant not those who have left the church but those whom the church has left!
[2] Acts of the Apostles 17:24
[3] Daniel 7:13
[4] The menorah has eight candles for the eight-day celebration of the feast of Hanukkah ,i.e., feast of Dedication (of the Temple). The center candle of the menorah is used for lighting one of the eight candles each of the eight days of Dedication.
[5] Confer the parallel passages in Mark 13:24-32 & Matthew 24:29-31.
[6] Hebrews 12:1: “tantam nubem testium”
[7] A rich treasury of rabbinical tradition
[8] January 8, 1996

King on the Hill

King-on-the-hill
according to Jesus and John

November 22, 2009, Feast of Christ the King
Daniel 7:13-14 Revelation 1; 5-8 John 18:33-37

To the churched and unchurched[1]
gathered in a temple not built by human hands[2]

First reading from Daniel

As the visions during the night continued, I saw one like a Son of man coming, on the clouds of heaven; when he reached the Ancient One and was presented before him, the one like a Son of man received dominion, glory, and kingship; all peoples, nations, and languages serve him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that shall not be taken away, his kingship shall not be destroyed.

Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to John
Glory to you, Lord.

Pilate said to Jesus, "Are you the King of the Jews?" Jesus answered, "Do you say this on your own or have others told you about Me?" Pilate answered, "I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests handed you over to Me. What have you done?" Jesus answered, "My kingdom does not belong to this world. If my kingdom did belong to this world, my attendants would be fighting to keep Me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not here." So Pilate said to Him, "Then you are a king?" Jesus answered, "You say I am a king. For this I was born and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice." Jn 18:33b-37

The Gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

Introduction
The end of the year

Today marks the end of the church’s liturgical year. After having celebrated all the feasts of Our Lord and His saints through 52 weeks, the church crowns her fast-departing old year with a feast in honor of Christ the King. Next Sunday is New Years Day in the church with the arrival of the first Sunday of Advent in preparation for Christmas 2009.

A recent feast

The feast of Christ the King was instituted as recently as 1925 by Pope Pius XI.[3] At that time, the pope was battling various kings of this world. He was fighting anticlericalism in Mexico and the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia. In his own backyard, he was fighting the Kingdom of Italy which had confiscated papal territories. With his newly instituted feast the Pope seemed to be saying, “We have a King who is greater than all you kings. He is Jesus of Nazareth -- the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords.” (Rev 19:26)

This late November feast is somewhat superfluous; already in early spring, we have a feast honoring Christ as king. On Palm Sunday, the church cries out, "Hosanna to the Son of David! O King of Israel, hosanna in the highest!" Holy Week is a better context for proclaiming the kingship of Christ. It sets Jesus upon an ass and not upon a throne. It places a palm branch in his hand and not a scepter. It plants a wreath of thorns upon his head and not a tiara. And the Passion read on Palm Sunday sets the records straight for anyone who might be tempted to build an earthly kingdom for Jesus. "My kingdom,” Jesus tells Pilate, “is not of this world." (Jn 18:36)

History’s long list of rogue kings

The human race has a long history of rogue kings. King Herod, leery about Jesus “the new-born king of the Jews,” slew all baby boys two years and younger. (Mt 2:2-16) In the second half of the twentieth century Saddam Hussein (who lived as a king in eight palaces before he ended up hiding in a hole in the ground) dotted the landscape of Iraq with kingly statues of himself, as he filled the dumps with the remains of people who did not want him as king.

However we might feel about kings, Scripture is clear: Jesus is a king. He is a king as He comes into the world, and as He leaves it. At his conception, the angel Gabriel announces to Mary that the Lord God would give her Son the throne of His ancestor David, and of his kingdom there would be no end. (Lk 1:32-33) At his trial, the Roman governor Pontius Pilate asks Jesus, “Are you a king?”He answers, “Yes, for this I was born, and for this I came into the world.” (Jn 18:37) Accordingly, a gang of Roman soldiers wove a crown of thorns and pressed it down on Jesus’ head. (Mt 27:29) Then they forced Him to climb the hill of Calvary and nailed Him to a cross upon which Pilate hung a notice written in Hebrew, Latin and Greek: Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews. (Jn 19:19)

No salvation outside the Church

Before the days when kids had a lot of money to buy hi-tech toys, we had to invent our own games. We invented `hop-scotch;’ that required only some chalk to write on the sidewalk. We invented `kick-the-can;’ that required only an empty tin can. We invented `king-on-the-hill;’ that required only some kind of a height (like a raft or roof or a mound) upon which to stand and drive off anyone trying to get to the top and unseat us. The one who managed to unseat the one on top proclaimed himself king.

Not only kids but adult, too, like to play king-on-the-hill. For ages theologians and churchmen quoted a dictum of St. Cyprian, a church father of the third century, that “outside the Church there is no salvation”( “extra Ecclesiam nulla salus“). Perhaps the dictum was not much more than a comment made off the top of Cyprian’s head, but it stuck. It eventually deteriorated into a mumbled and half-examined belief that only Christians (or worse yet, only Catholics) made it to the top of the hill in the kingdom of heaven. If there were others besides Christians on that lofty height, it was because they had snuck in through some kind of a “backdoor,” like a “baptism of desire.”

See what Jesus does every time Christian extremists play king-on-the-hill in His name and try to make Him king: after the multiplication of the loaves and fishes, the fervent crowds wanted to seize Him and make Him king. Scripture says, “Jesus fled from them and hid Himself up in the mountains.” (Jn 6: 15)

No salvation outside the Mosque

Not only extreme Christians but extreme Muslims also like to play king-on-the-hill. For them, too, there is no room on the top for any other way or culture than the Islamic way and culture: all men should wear beards, all women should hide their existence under berkas, and all believers should fall to their knees in prayer five times a day. If you don’t follow that way or culture, you’re an infidel -- damned and lost, for “outside the Mosque there is no salvation.”
On Thursday, November 5, 2009 Major Nidal Malik Hasan, a Muslim, opened fire at Fort Hood, Texas, killing 13 and wounding 29, as he cried out, “Allahu Akbar!” “God is great!” Months before, Hasan had contacts with Anwar al-Awlaki, an imam,[4] whose sermons were attended by three of the nineteen 9/11 hijackers, and whose personal website was used to encourage Muslims across the world to kill U.S. troops in Iraq. Al-Awlaki was quick to praise the actions of Hasan in the Fort Hood shooting. That connection with the imam and that praise coming from him strongly suggest that the massacre had a strong religious dimension to it. We remind ourselves that the apocalyptic event of 9/11, 2001 (in which two 747s brought down the Twin Towers in Lower Manhattan and three thousand innocent human beings) was more a religious than a political statement; at the end of the day it was a stout proclamation that “Outside the Mosque there is no salvation!”

See what Allah does when Islamic extremists play king-on-the-hill in His name: He flees from them and with Jesus hides Himself up in the mountains.

Salvation outside the Synagogue!

It is noteworthy that Judaism does not claim that outside the Synagogue there is no salvation. The Talmud, for example, says that all righteous people of any religion, who observe the basic laws of morality, are saved. That’s a relativist approach to religion; it says, “I have my faith, you have your faith, and others have their faith.” On the other hand, there is the triumphalist approach to religion. That’s the approach of Christianity claiming outside the Church there is no salvation. That’s also the approach of Islam claiming outside the Mosque there is no salvation. Bernard Lewis, British-American historian, Orientalist, and political commentator, in his book What Went Wrong? writes that the triumphalist approach has Christianity and Islam shouting at each other: “I’m right, you’re wrong, go to hell!” The triumphalist approach, however, is increasingly under attack in Christendom and is rejected now by many Christian clergymen. But there is very little sign that anything like that is happening in Islam.

The birthday of a great man

Next Tuesday, November 25, is the birthday of a great man who was born poor like Jesus, 128 years ago in 1881. Many of us very senior citizens were fortunate enough to be his contemporaries, and we remember him with deep affection. His name was Angelo Giuseppe Roncalli. He was born in a little Italian village called Bergamo Sotto il Monte (Bergamo at the Foot of the Mountain). Though born at the foot of the hill, he made it to the top. On October 28, 1958, Cardinal Roncalli was elected pope and took the name of John XXIII. On November 4, the day of his coronation, a crown was placed upon his head. In his homily that day the new pope said that he had in mind the example of the Good Shepherd who came not to be served as kings are served but to serve.

The day after his coronation, John sped off through elaborate Vatican gates to put his money where his mouth was. He visited aging brother priests in nursing homes. He visited inmates in the nearby Regina Coeli Prison along the Tiber. “I come to you,” he told them, “because you couldn’t come to me.” When he celebrated his first Holy Thursday as pope, he revived an ancient custom of the church; like Jesus John girded himself with a towel and bent down to wash the feet of 13 young priests. (That foot-washing rite had fallen into disuse for many centuries, and the disuse itself was symptomatic of a prevailing institutional attitude.)

Pope John’s example emanating from the lofty height of the Petrine throne drew the whole church and world. It drew Morris West, an Australian writer (1916-1999) famous especially for his books The Devil’s Advocate and The Shoes of the Fisherman. In A View from the Ridge he writes, “I believe I can say with certainty that I remained in communion with the Church even when the Church itself excluded me[5], and I remain there still, principally because of the presence of John XXIII, the Good Pastor, whom I never met, though I did meet his predecessor (Pius XII) and his successor (John Paul II). Goodness went out from this man to me. I acknowledged it then. I acknowledge it again.”

Conclusion
The game according to Jesus and John

When Angelo Giuseppe Roncalli, born in Bergamo at the Foot of the Mountain, made it to the top of the hill as John XXIII, he, like Jesus, played a completely new game of King-on-the-Hill. In the old game, when you got to the top, you drove everyone down. In the new game when Jesus got to the top -- when He was lifted up on the Hill of Calvary -- He drew everyone up to Himself. (Jn 12:32) Like Jesus, when John got to the top he, too, played the game in an entirely new way. From the lofty height of the Petrine throne he showed the church and all of us how much more blessed it is to draw people up than to drive them down.

[1] By the “the unchurched” is especially meant not those who have left the church but those whom the church has left!
[2] Acts of the Apostles 17:24
[3] In his encyclical Quas Primas (December 11, 1925)
[4] an Islamic clergyman
[5] Though West was and always remained a Catholic, his various writings contain a good deal of criticism about the church, and the church was not always pleased with him.

A Widow’s Mighty Mite

November 8, 2009, Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time
Hebrews 9:24-28 1 Kings 17:10-16 Mark 12:38-44

To the churched and unchurched[1]
gathered in a church not built by human hands[2]

Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to Mark
Glory to you, Lord.

In the course of his teaching Jesus said to the crowds, "Beware of the scribes! They like to prance around in long robes and receive greetings in the marketplaces. They look for the front seats in the synagogue and the best places at dinner-parties! They grow fat on widows’ property, and then cover up their evil machinations with lengthy prayers in public. They will receive a very severe condemnation."

Jesus sat down opposite the temple treasury and observed the crowd dropping their donations into the collection-boxes. Many people, obviously well-off, put in large sums. A poor widow also came and dropped in two small coins worth but a few cents. Calling over to his disciples, Jesus said, "Come here and feast your eyes on this poor widow! I tell you she put more into the collection box than all the others put together. For they gave a little of their extra fat, but she gave all she had to live on."

The Gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

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Introduction
The temple’s collection boxes

The inner area of the temple in Jerusalem contained three courts. One was the Court of the Women, and it contained the temple treasury where people donated their money. Against the wall in the treasury were thirteen horn-shaped collection-boxes (called shofaroth --horns) made of metal. Into them worshipers could conveniently drop their offerings as they came and went. The boxes were carefully marked: nine were for the required temple tax, and the other four were for strictly voluntary gifts.

A gem of a story

The story of the widow’s tiny offering is not a parable; it is an account of an event in the life of Jesus. One day He seated Himself near the temple treasury where He had a good view of people coming and going. He saw some drop sizeable donations into the metal boxes. He could, in fact, “hear the size” of their donations, as they landed audibly into the boxes. But what really caught His eye was the sight of a poor widow who dropped in two small coins. Mites, they were, which made no sound at all, as they landed into the metal box. Jesus immediately called over to his disciples; they had their eyes focused on the wealthy tossing in big donations, and missed the widow’s mighty mite."Come here,” He said to them, “and feast your eyes on this poor widow. I tell you, she put more into the collection-box than all the others put together. For they gave a little of their extra fat, but she gave all she had to live on." (Mk 12: 41-44)

That story has gone down in history as the “Widow’s Mighty Mite.” Down through the ages, that story has sung the praises of the widow’s little donation given from a big heart. (Big donations need no touting; it’s the little ones that do.) The story is a little gem and a kind of mite in itself: with only four short biblical verses it quickly rises to a climax, and then comes to a rapid denouement.

The widow’s mite living on

I have a personal fondness for the story of the widow’s mite; it reminds me of another mite. Years ago, at the daily community meal at St. Benedict the Moor Church on State Street, Milwaukee (a meal free for anyone hungry), we always passed a tin cup to all the hungry guests (for there is no meal that’s really free; someone along the line has to pay for it). One day a hungry guest tossed a strange tiny coin into the tin cup. It bore the Greek inscription Tiberiou Kaisarou—Of Tiberius Caesar! The old coin department at the Boston Store identified it: “It is an ancient Roman coin called the `Widow’s Mite.’” Perhaps the coin was `lifted’ from somebody’s coin collection, and the widow’s mite was now living on and doing duty on State Street, Milwaukee.

A shortened reading of the gospel

Immediately before the story of the widow’s offering in the temple, we read Jesus’ vitriolic words against the widow’s religious leaders—the scribes: “Beware of the scribes! They like to prance around in long robes and receive greetings in the marketplaces. They look for the front seats in the synagogue and the best places at dinner-parties! They grow fat on widows’ property, and then cover up their evil machinations with lengthy prayers in public.”(Mk 12:38-40) That’s strong stuff!

The missalette for this Sunday allows for a shortened reading of today’s gospel by bracketing off the account of Jesus’ vitriolic attack on the scribes from the account of the widow and her modest offering. Why shorten a gospel which is already short – only six verses? More importantly the two accounts shouldn’t be separated; they belong together. As a unit they pronounce an indictment against religion used as a cover for selfishly taking instead as a stimulus for generously giving.

The keen eye of Jesus

Down through the ages, the widow has always been praised for her utterly generous offering of two small coins worth but a few pennies -- all that she had to live on. Perhaps the poor dear had been misguided by the scribes (her religious superiors) who duped her into thinking it was her religious duty to give to those fat cats even the very little she had to live on. In such case, we don’t praise the poor dear; we simply feel sorry for her, for not being savvy enough to keep at least one of the coins for herself. The hero, then, in this story is not the poor widow but Jesus whose keen eye and right heart saw that the widow “had given more than all the others put together," and who wanted to make sure his disciples got the message.(Mk 12:43)

The keen eye of a cabbie

A cabbie relates a remarkable story about an event in his life. Twenty years ago he drove a cab for a living. It was a cowboy’s life for someone who didn’t want a boss. What he didn’t realize was that it was also a ministry -- a service to others. Because he drove the night-shift, his cab became a moving confessional. Passengers climbed in, sat behind him in total anonymity, and told him about their lives. He encountered people whose lives amazed him, ennobled him, made him laugh and weep. But none touched him more than a woman he picked up late one August night.

About 3:30 one morning, he was responding to a call. When he arrived the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away. But he had seen too many poor people who depended on a taxi as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, he always went to the door.

An old widowed lady answered. She had a small suitcase in hand. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensil on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

When she got into the cab, she gave the cabbie an address, then asked, “Could you drive through downtown?” “It’s not the shortest way,” He answered quickly. “Oh, I don’t mind,” she responded. “I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.” The cabbie looked into the rear mirror. Her eyes were glistening. “I don’t have any family left,” she continued. “The doctor says I don’t have very long.” He quickly reached over and shut the meter off. For the next two hours, the two of them drove through the city visiting the spots that contained all her past memories.
As the first hint of sun was illuminating the horizon, she suddenly said, “I’m tired. Let’s go now.” They drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as they pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. The cabbie opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

“How much do I owe you?” she asked. “Nothing,” he said. “Oh, you have to make a living,” she answered. “There are other passengers,” he responded. Almost without thinking, he bent down and gave her a big hug. She held on to him tightly. “You gave an old lady a little moment of joy.” She said, “Thank you.” He squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind him a door shut. It was the sound of a life that was closing. The cabbie didn’t pick up anymore passengers that shift. He drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day, he could hardly talk. He could only ponder: What if the woman had gotten an angry driver? What if he had refused to take the run, or had honked just once, then driven away? “As I look back now,” he exclaimed, ”I don’t think I’ve I have done anything greater or more important in my entire life!”

The hero in the story

The hero in the story is not the dying widow headed for a hospice; she is simply a poor dear, and we feel for her. The hero is the cowboy cabbie who had the keen eye and the right heart to see that the moment before him required that he turn off his meter and give himself wholeheartedly to the little lady before him, travelling the last lap of her journey. The hero in the story is a cabbie who felt he had done “nothing greater or more important” in his entire life than what he had just now done.

Conclusion
The Lord God in a tiny whisper

One day the Lord God commanded the prophet Elijah to go outside and stand on the mountain, and there he would experience the Lord God passing by. A howling wind came up, but the Lord God was not in the wind. A thundering earthquake shattered the silence, but the Lord God was not in the earthquake. Then a roaring fire swept through the place, but the Lord God was not in the fire. Finally a tiny whisper could be heard, and the Lord God was in the whisper, and Elijah hid his face. (1 Kings 19:9,11-13)

That day in the temple near the treasury the Lord God was not in a howling wind, or thundering earthquake, or roaring fire (or in the loud clanging of money). He was in a tiny whisper, and the whisper was a little widow tossing in two noiseless coins. And the day the cabbie was responding to a call 3:30 in the morning, the Lord was not in anything loud or noisy or showy but in a tiny whisper, and the whisper was a little lady headed for a hospice.

Like the cabbie, know when it is time to turn off your meter and give yourself to the moment at hand, lest you rush right by what could be the most important and meaningful thing you’ve ever done in your entire life.

[1] By the “the unchurched” is especially meant not those who have left the church but those whom the church has left!

[2] Acts of the Apostles 17:24

“A Great Multitude Which No One Could Count”
(Revelation 7:9)

November 1, 2009, Feast of All Saints
Revelation 7:2-4, 9-14 1 John 3:1-3 Matthew 5:1-12

To the churched and unchurched[1]
gathered in a church not built by human hands[2]

First reading from Revelation

I, John, saw another angel come up from the East, holding the seal of the living God. He cried out in a loud voice to the four angels who were given power to damage the land and the sea, “Do not damage the land or the sea or the trees until we put the seal on the foreheads of the servants of our God.” I heard the number of those who had been marked with the seal, one hundred and forty-four thousand marked from every tribe of the children of Israel.

After this I had a vision of a great multitude, which no one could count, from every nation, race, people, and tongue. They stood before the throne and before the Lamb, wearing white robes and holding palm branches in their hands. They cried out in a loud voice: “Salvation comes from our God, who is seated on the throne, and from the Lamb.” All the angels stood around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures. They prostrated themselves before the throne, worshiped God, and exclaimed: “Amen. Blessing and glory, wisdom and thanksgiving, honor, power, and might be to our God forever and ever. Amen.”

The word of the Lord
Thanks be to God

Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to Matthew
Glory to you, Lord.

When Jesus saw the crowds, He went up a hill, where He sat down. His disciples gathered around Him, and He began to teach them:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven

.Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted.

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the land.

Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be satisfied.

Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.

Blessed are the clean of heart, for they will see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you falsely because of me.Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven.”

The Gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
Introduction
Halloween & All Saints

The Celts, who lived 2,000 years ago, celebrated their new year on November 1. For them that date marked the end of summer and harvest, and the beginning of cold and darkness. It also was the day when the souls of the dead appeared in the form of ghosts, witches, goblins, and elves, whom the Celts invoked to inflict harm upon their enemies. Perhaps it was in competition with this superstitious belief of the Celts that Pope Gregory III (731-741) on November 1 consecrated a chapel to all the saints in the original Basilica of St. Peter. Then Pope Gregory IV (827-844) established November 1 as the Feast of All Saints for the entire Church. So the night of October 31 came to be called Hallows’ Eve (Halloween). That also explains why Halloween, the eve of All Saints, came to be haunted with ghosts, witches, goblins and elves.

Today, Nov. 1, 2009, we switch back from man-made time to God’s time. In many places, an honest-to-God frost has dealt a deadly blow to geraniums hanging on for dear life. The crispness in the air these days invites us to take energetic walks into the glorious but fast-fading fall, and it puts us in a cozy mood to watch a super-momentous game, when the Packers will face a beloved and legendary quarterback. The first dustings of snow evoke the emotions that go with the great feasts that lie ahead; soon it will be over the river and through the woods to grandma’s house we go to give thanks, and after that, we'll all be ”dreaming of a white Christmas.”

A harvest feast

All Saints is a harvest feast. In the fall harvest we have gathered into bins all the apples, potatoes and pumpkins. In today’s feast we now gather in all the saints. Throughout the liturgical year we celebrate a list of Catholic saints like St. Agnes, St. Lucy, St. Benedict, St. Bernard, St. Francis, St. Clare, St Theresa, etc. Today we celebrate a catholic list of saints, that is to say, a universal list that includes "all the holy men and women of every time and place” (from the prayer of the day).
Such a feast in honor of all the saints was inevitable, for we’ve always suspected that the church’s official list of saints hadn't canonized all the saints -- hadn't even canonized the best of the saints. We’ve always suspected that the church’s official list is not God's list – that God’s list is, indeed, much more inclusive than ours.

When we want to make sure that we’re honoring all the fallen soldiers of every time and place (not neglecting a single one of them), we erect a tomb to the Unknown Soldier. In Paul's day, when the Greeks wanted to make sure they were honoring all the jealous gods of every time and place (not neglecting a single one of them), they erected an altar to an Unknown God. (Acts 17:22) Likewise, when we want to make sure we’re honoring all the holy men and women of every time and place (not neglecting a single one of them), we erect a feast honoring all the saints, especially all the unknown and unsung saints, who are, indeed, a multitude.

A great multitude

The first reading today from Revelation speaks of “a great multitude, which no one could count, from every nation, race, people and tongue….” (Rev. 7:9) Before Vatican II, the Mass for All Saints fleshed out that great multitude with a lengthier quote from Revelation: it spoke of 12,000 from each of the twelve tribes of Israel: 12,000 from the tribe of Judah; 12,000 the tribe of Ruben; 12,000 from the tribe of Gad; 12,000 from the tribe of Asher; 12,000 from the tribe of Naphtali.... Etc." (Rev 7:1-8) I miss that old reading with its impressive litany of 12,000 from each of the 12 tribes, adding up to a grand total of 144,000 people who had God’s seal upon their foreheads.

That great multitude which no one could count is fleshed out also in the Gospel reading for All Saints with its litany of nine beatitudes: "Blessed are the poor in spirit… Blessed are they who mourn…. Blessed are the meek…Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness…. Blessed are the merciful…. Etc.”(Mt 5:1-12) Add up all those blessed ones, and that gives us 144,000 plus people who have God’s seal upon their foreheads.

An unseemly saint

That great multitude, however, “which no one could count” is not the neat, orderly and nice-looking tribe depicted in the graphic above. That great multitude is a motley crowd of people; it includes some very unseemly saints.

November 25, 1973 was an ordinary Sunday, and the 10 AM Mass at St. Benedict the Moor Church in central-city Milwaukee was running along in an ordinary sort of way, but not for long. Fr. Peter Quareschi, a priest from Brazil, was the celebrant. Up in the front pew sat Andrew Torres. It was, indeed, a surprise for many to see State-Street-notorious Andy Torres in church, all dressed up and sober! As Fr. Peter was making the customary introductions of newcomers to the Sunday assembly before the homily, Andy motioned to him, saying, "Tell the people that I'm the biggest wino on State Street." Father Peter did just that. "Tell them also that this is the first time in 17 years that I've been in church." That, too, Fr. Peter announced, to the great applause of the entire assembly. At Communion, Andy received the Host, held it aloft, looked Fr. Peter straight in the eye, and then announced, "This is my first holy Communion!" The meaningful words of an Anglican clergyman come to mind: “The only requirement to take Communion is that you be hungry!”

After Mass one big question lingered on in Andy’s mind. He cornered me and asked, "When I die, am I going to hell?" I answered: “Andy, I don’t believe that all your suffering is going to be topped off with an eternal hell besides. Andy, I don’t believe that all your suffering is for naught.” That very night Andy died in jail across the street! The newspaper carried the cold facts: "Andrew Torres -- 32 years of age - an endless record of 124 drunk-arrests - address unknown."

Indignant rightists

A week later, the whole story got into the Milwaukee Journal, and some religious rightists expressed deep indignation at the thought of consoling Andy with the “so-called redemptive value of his suffering.” Nobody’s suffering, except the suffering of Jesus, they insisted, is redemptive. His suffering and His alone, they insisted, redeems. Anything else, they insisted, is heresy. I recalled immediately the `heretical’ words of St. Paul who wrote, "I make up in my own body what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ." (Col 1:24)

I also recalled the words of the drunkard in Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. More trusting in God’s mercy than Andy Torres, he says, "Then we (drunkards) are going to line up, and Christ, our Judge, will say to us, `Come, enter into the kingdom.' And some standing near shall say to the Master, `How come you receive such people -- how come you receive such people?' And the Judge will say, `I receive them -- I receive them, because not one of them considers himself worthy to be received!`”

And so in that neat, orderly and nice-looking tribe depicted in the graphic above stands also messy Andy Torres who thoroughly unseats our idea of `saint,’ and who will never be officially canonized.

Conclusion
Personal saints of our own

That great multitude which no one can count is a motley crowd. It includes clean-cut saints like Mother Teresa and Padre Pio. It also includes messy saints like Andy Torres. It also and especially includes personal saints of our own – people we dearly loved but who will never be enrolled in the church’s official list of saints but who, we know without any doubt, belong there. On that list, I know for sure, belongs Francesca Luzi, an Italian immigrant Mama, destined to weep for twenty long years in a foreign land. We all have such personal saints of our own, to whom (not for whom) we fervently pray on the Feast of All Saints.

[1] By the “the unchurched” is especially meant not those who have left the church but those whom the church has left!

[2] Acts of the Apostles 17:24