Christmas in Chihuahua

I just returned from an amazing Christmas holiday in Chihuahua, Mexico that coincided with a long overdue family reunion. I am so blessed to have such a wonderful family and was thrilled to have the opportunity to spend time with everyone (and to let my wife and boys do the same). I already miss them all and only wish we could have spent more time together. I'll just count myself blessed for the opportunity, however limited.

On the morning of Christmas Eve, a number of us spent some time helping to hand out clothes and food to the poor living in the Chihuahuan suburbs. The scope of the poverty was overwhelming and the needs of the poor seemed limitless. Nonetheless, it was gratifying to be able to give a few hours to help even if only in a small way. In addition to providing some relief to others, spending time on Christmas weekend in service to others helped to serve as a reminder about how carried away we can get by the commercial spirit of Christmas. We get so wrapped up - no pun intended - in all the presents that we give and receive that it is easy to forget what we really are supposed to be celebrating on Christmas. The birth of Christ marks the moment that God chose to become man in order that he might die to save us. Even when we celebrate Christ's birth at Mass, it is easy to forget that His birth was just the first step in a journey that would result in His crucifixion. I am not suggesting that we don't celebrate his birth with joy and hope; rather, I am suggesting that we work harder to keep our perspective and to remember the obligations that come with accepting the real gift of Christmas.

To my relatives in Chihuahua, thanks for the reminder and muchas gracias por todo!

Imagine ...

On the anniversary of the murder of her husband, John Lennon, Yoko Ono asks us to honor his memory by taking a message of hope and forgiveness out of the tragedy of his death. Yoko wrote:

"To the people who have also lost loved ones without cause:
forgive us for having been unable to stop the tragedy. We pray for the wounds to heal.

To the soldiers of all countries and of all centuries, who were maimed for life, or who lost their lives:
forgive us for our misjudgments and what happened as a result of them.

To the civilians who were maimed, or killed, or who lost their family members: forgive us for having been unable to prevent it.

To the people who have been abused and tortured: forgive us for having allowed it to happen.Know that your loss is our loss.Know that the physical and mental abuse you have endured will have a lingering effect on our society, and the world.Know that the burden is ours.

As the widow of one who was killed by an act of violence, I don't know if I am ready yet to forgive the one who pulled the trigger. I am sure all victims of violent crimes feel as I do. But healing is what is urgently needed now in the world.Let's heal the wounds together.

Every year, let's make December 8th the day to ask for forgiveness from those who suffered the insufferable."

We could all hope to rise to this challenge.

A Lesson from the Amish

As youth minister, I am often challenged to demonstrate to skeptical teens how faith can have everyday relevance. Our dollar driven culture claims greater relevance, vying for the attention of teens and professions of their “faith” while making hollow promises of fulfillment. Christianity promises more but also asks for more - among other things, humility and selflessness. It is easy to see how the sirens of modern culture have grabbed an edge in the marketing battle.

When tragedy struck in Lancaster County, I couldn’t fathom the devastation visited upon that quiet Amish community when a gunman entered their schoolhouse. More profound than their loss, however, was how their community found their voice to forgive the killer and the compassion to embrace the killer’s family. They were visited by an unimaginable tragedy and responded with love and forgiveness.

Their faith is not a separate part of their lives to which they tend on Sabbath or merely a crutch to lean on in crisis. It has been woven so deeply into their person that it is who they are. And it is beautiful to behold.

They experienced a foundation shaking tragedy, yet their foundation proved unshakable. Could there be anything more relevant?

So Be It ...

Teresa of Avila left us with this beautiful prayer:

Christ has no body but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are his body.
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours.

Every time that we receive the Eucharist, we accept Christ into our bodies. Accepting the challenge of St Teresa’s words is difficult. And as we are bombarded with messages every day reminding us to live for ourselves instead of others, it is easy to lose sight of this call. Maybe we can remind ourselves, every time we accept Christ in the Eucharist, that we are not only receiving a wonderful gift – this wonderful promise of salvation - but we also accept a responsibility to let Christ live through us, to act through us, to love, and forgive, and heal, and comfort – through us. I don’t think we can ask for the promise of salvation without trying to keep this promise ourselves.

When we receive the Eucharist, a Eucharistic minister will hold Christ out to you and announce, “The Body of Christ”. We extend our hands to receive him and say “Amen”. While the word amen has many subtle meanings, when uttered at the end of a prayer, it means “so be it”. So Christ is presented to us, and we say “so be it”. Let that be a reminder of our promise -- the promise that we make to “be it” -- to be the hands, the feet, the mouth, the eyes – the body of Christ.

The very last thing Christ said personally to his disciples was this, “in the world you shall have tribulation, but be of good cheer, for I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

It may often be a challenge to let Christ truly live in us, to be his hands and feet and body, and it will require our faith, humility and courage. But remember Christ’s last words – even at your most difficult moment, be of good cheer, for he has overcome the world. Accept him in the sacrament of the Eucharist and strive to let him live through and in you.

Amen.
So be it.

Christ Has No Hands But Yours

This World of ours is in trouble. When you look around and pay even a little bit of attention, it is impossible not to see it.

War, violence, hate, suffering, poverty, death, intolerance, apathy, indifference. The list could go on and on. It takes little imagination to anticipate Christ's reaction if he were to walk among us today. When he did walk on this earth, his presence was so powerful that a person could be healed without so much as touching if only they believed in his power. And when he would lay his hands upon someone, friend or foe, that person could not help but be healed.

While he remains physically absent, he does not walk as one of us and reach out his hand to embrace or comfort or to reassure. But we do. He gave his body, his life that we might be saved, that we might transcend the limitation of our own physical being and be with him. We are called then to do the same -- to give our bodies that we might be saved, that in using our hands and feet to do his work we might transcend the limitations of our flesh. Christ asks us to be his hands and feet in this world -- to give him a physical presence by doing his will. Whether we open our hands in prayer, extend our hands in assisting others, offer our time in service - we are called to be vessels for Christ.