Hard to believe that the Christmas Season is now winding down. Things went very well; we had a full house for our Christmas Masses and Holy Family Sunday for the night Mass I had was a little more quiet. It was good to see the higher crowds though on Christmas, and I try to make people feel welcome and remind them they are always welcome at our parish or in any Catholic Church and do what I can to plant mustard seeds.
That being said, the Christmas homily is a tough one to write. People know the story, and people are also looking forward to dinner or Santa, and with the large and mixed group, it’s your one chance to talk to people you might not see every week. I wasn’t sure where to go so I did some reading before I settled on the story of a priest who had a long road to ordination coming from China but did remarkable things with his life and also never gave up, much as God never gives up on us and brought love to the world, just as this man did. I think it went pretty well, and I didn’t see anyone passed out in the pew so that’s good. But you always do see the yawns 
).
I actually thought the Holy Family Sunday homily went well too…I feel so strongly on family issues I wish I could have focused on the family to a larger group, but I think it’s so important to build the family up, especially when so many are trying to keep up with jobs, school, practices, appointments and everything else in between. It seems we text more than we actually talk these days (and while I’m only 33, texting is just too much work for me, so just e-mail me or give me a call please!). I thought I’d share both homilies here. I also hope to do more blogging in 2011 and veer off on other topics such as sharing photos, or talking about sports, food, TV or other favorite topics such as doughnuts (well, I suppose that’s food…), bowling, or anything related to the 1980s.
Have a very blessed New Year!
-Fr. Paul
Christmas Homily:
Martyrdom and suffering for the faith has a long history in Christianity. It was in the early centuries that countless people lost their lives because of living out their faith and refusing to reject it, but that all changed when Constantine tolerated Christianity starting in the year 311. From that moment on, Christianity began to spread throughout Europe, and it continues to be the dominant religion in the West to this day. As far as persecution, that might seem like something that was done many years ago, but the sad reality is that it continues in many parts of the world today, including places that are supposedly enlightened, such as China.
After the Second World War, the Communists rose to power in China, and ever since, there has been incredible difficulty for those wanting to practice the faith there. Take the story of Father Guant-Zhong Gu.
It was a warm September morning in September, 1955, when he was in the third year of studies at a seminary, that unfamiliar voices started barking at him to come out. Lights flashed overhead; and he heard the sound of guns clicking and fists pounding at the door. He was rounded up along with other Jesuit priests and teachers, and about 150 in all that day, men, women, laity and clergy were arrested for being Roman Catholic. Herded into a truck, he was taken to a police station where he was in a cell for six months with no court or judge or trial. After six months, he is charged with being a counter-revolutionary, for being part of a counter-revolutionary organization, the Legion of Mary, and for supporting his bishop. The Legion of Mary was a Catholic organization that started in the late 40s in China, when an Irish priest started it as a Catholic youth organization. And so, as a fourth-generation Catholic, Gu naturally joined up as a high school student. This was despite his father, who, while Catholic, was quite fearful of what might happen to his son. As he put it, “Communists don’t like Catholicism.” This was because the Communists supported atheism, and while they might allow for some religion, they do not tolerate dissenting opinions. The State is all-powerful, and as such, to their way of thinking, you cannot also support a pope or bishop, even if their concern is matters of religion and the Kingdom of God. His dad was proven right. Initially there were threats and pressure from the Communists, but Gu remained faithful. The Legion of Mary was declared counter-revolutionary, and the priest who founded it, Fr. McGrath, was arrested. The bishop urged Gu and the others to hold fast, and to be strong and not comply with the Communists. Gu simply said: “I will never surrender.”
To fight the Catholics, Communist officials would selectively target groups, randomly selecting people for arrest who practiced their faith, and Gu was one of the unlucky ones. As a teen, he was arrested once and kept overnight, but this time they would keep him much longer. He went from detention center to detention center, and it was the same routine. One guard screamed that he no longer had a name; another spat on him for praying. His food was placed on the floor, and he had to eat with his hands tied. Eventually he gets sent to Tilanqiao, the Chinese equivalent of Alcatraz, where the worst offenders are kept. Only while at Alcatraz you had a cell, here you were crammed with several men. He was given his sentence while in the cell, not even given a trial. It was five years in prison. Shortly after this he gets placed in a cattle car with other prisoners. They travel for several days, and are sent to a remote prison near the Siberian border, where he worked as brick worker for six months. After this he get sent back to Shanghai, where he finds out someone paid for a lawyer. But he tells the attorney that he doesn’t need one, because all he has to do to get out of prison is to do the same thing the early Christian martyrs did: renounce the faith and surrender. But he refuses to do that. On the day of his trial, he walks into court, makes the sign of the Cross, and refuses to surrender. This leads him to an urban labor camp, where with other Catholics he prays despite the illegality of it. They use stockings and weave the threads together, knotting the silk for a rosary. A letter he was found with at this prison, from another Catholic inmate, stating that they needed to be loyal to the pope and God, and more hardships would follow: he’d be sent to another prison, be put in solitary, and get 7 years added onto his sentence. A typical day was 16 hours of breaking rocks in a steel factory or shoveling a field. Due to a famine that hit the country, because of the government forcing peasants off the fields and into factories leaving no one to harvest or tend to crops, his diet was so poor he was down to 81 pounds.
By 1965, his sentence was finished, but he forever would be considered a post-prisoner; meaning he would have to work at the same places for hardly any money, though every once in a while he could go back home. And on one of those visits, he learned of the underground Church in China.
The government set up a so-called Patriotic Catholic Church, independent of Rome where bishops were appointed by the state, and this still exists. But there was the underground Church, loyal to Rome, and when he learned of it, he came into contact with a priest, who got him in contact with another visiting priest from the Pontifical Institute for Foreign Missionaries. This priest urged him to come to Hong Kong, as Gu still wanted to become a priest and finish his schooling. When Gu told the priest that he was still in labor camp, the priest gave him his address and sewed it into an opening on the inside of his sleeve so that it wouldn’t be found by any officials at the labor camp. Eventually it happened one day that a truck was parked at the front gate. Dressed as a teacher, as he spoke English and taught at the camp, he approached the truck with confidence and asked to be taken to a long-distance bus station. He took with him a battered leather suitcase and a rolled up quilt, all his possessions for 19 years of labor. He’s able to get to a place where he can teach English during the day and study theology at night, using two books given to him by a bishop, and in February of 1988, he was ordained a priest. His brother had made it to the US in 1985, and he sent the address that was pinned inside his coat to his brother in the US to help things get set up. Finally making it to the American consulate, where he shared his story, Gu was allowed to move to Los Angeles after 29 years of suffering for the faith.
I wish his story were isolated, or I could say that things have changed since 1955 when he was first arrested. But recently Newsweek did an article on the situation of Christians in China. They can have some worship, but there is still a lot that must be done in secret. Tucked away in apartments one will find seminaries and house churches, and this happens in a place where the Communist party still only allows atheists in its ranks. Others face harassment; in June of 2003 a group of Christians who showed up to register were told to come for the final steps of the process, came with notarized paperwork that was all finished, and were promptly arrested and sent to re-education camps.
And yet, through all of this, the Church moves on. There are 6 million Catholics in China, 45 million Christians in all. It’s estimated that in the last 20 years, the Church has grown in China more quickly than anywhere else in the world.
I think Fr. Gu’s story, and at a larger level the story of Christianity in China, illustrates in so many ways what Christmas is all about, which is the light dispelling the darkness, no matter how intense it may seem. The reminder we are given each Christmas is that no matter how dark the night may seem, the light of Christ is there. And the challenge we are given is to use what we are given, and to help the world to see the precious gift that is there for the taking: not the historical Infant who was, but who that Infant is: God and His love made manifest in a human being who came to dwell among us and show us how to live.
We are lucky in that we do not have to fear being arrested for professing a faith in the Catholic Church, but fear can be so strong at times. To a point, fear is healthy – for instance in a snowstorm, we fear a slippery road so do the prudent thing and stay home. But fear can also paralyze, and prevent us from taking a needed step. Or sometimes we can fear the unknown, or perhaps fear something about ourselves. What do Adam and Eve do when they become aware of what they’ve done? They hide in shame, and do not want God to know what they have done, out of fear. The Christmas event though helps us to break the cycle of fear.
In the Gospel, we find shepherds in the darkness of the night, and what strikes me when I read this Gospel are the words “they were struck with great fear.” They are accustomed to working and living in the dark; to being on the outskirts of society and probably looked down upon by others. They aren’t used to seeing light, let alone an angel. And fear grips them. But then the angel says to them “Do not be afraid, for behold I proclaim to you good news of great joy.” The angel’s message is worth listening to. “For today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Christ and Lord.” The question for us in 2010, is what does that mean? We’ve heard Linus tell the story on the Charlie Brown special year after year. We’re familiar with the nativity scenes, and the placing of Baby Jesus year after year. The temptation might be to think “gee, that’s a nice story, glad to hear it again, let’s get onto the presents and the turkey.” But there’s a reason we need to celebrate this feast year after year, because ultimately what it comes down to is God’s love dispelling the fear.
Like I said, there might not be much to fear for practicing our faith from the State, but just like those shepherds at first, fear can paralyze us. Perhaps we may fear something being found out about our past. Perhaps we might fear that the smiling family on the Christmas card isn’t as great as it seems and others might know about it. Perhaps we fear not making it in college after a rough semester. For some, Christmas is a time to forget about problems, rack up credit card bills, and hide from reality for a little while. For the Christian, Christmas can’t be that. Rather, it needs to be the new reality: the feast that boldly reminds us of how much we are loved, and that God’s love, made manifest, is the key to break the chains of fear.
My hope is that as you celebrate this feast, you let that happen. This feast does not celebrate the Christ who was; rather it celebrates the Christ who is. This might come as a surprise, but I don’t have super-powers as a priest that enable me to see who is someone going to Mass every day or once or twice a year, but no matter what your story is, I hope you know how happy I am you here on this holy night, because the Holy Spirit tugged on your heart and got you to come here. And as you hear these readings told once more, and as you come up to receive Jesus in the Eucharist, know that God loves you for who you are: not just the smiling person on the Christmas card or the person who makes the perfect dinner, but the person who sometimes does things they aren’t proud of, who looks back on 2010 and sees some things they’d like to do differently, or the person who’s been battling that same habitual sin for years. God loves you unconditionally for who you are, and who you aren’t. We can fear sometimes people knowing the whole truth about who we are, but with God, there is no need to pretend. God loves the whole package. This little infant will grow up and eat with sinners and tax collectors; stand by a woman caught in adultery, and forgive everyone who causes Him to be led to his suffering and death. His love is an incredible gift, and we receive it here at Mass, in the Eucharist. Know that Saint Hubert’s and any other Catholic Church is a place where you should feel welcome and at peace, not just at Christmas but any day of the year.
And finally, once the light of Christ’s love fills our hearts and souls, that’s what we do to the world. For Fr. Gu, nothing was going to stand in the way of His love for Christ, and because of the love in his heart and in the hearts of so many, Christianity has continued to spread throughout China. When fear gets in the way, it can be a shade over that love. But when fear gives way to love, something incredible can happen. That is what I’ve seen in my life, particularly over the past two months. As most of you know I’ve been here at the parish for a year and a half, and am starting my fourth year of being a priest. In that time I’ve been through difficult circumstances at times, but was a little unprepared for what unfolded in early November when there was a change here at the parish with the pastor leaving. I went into that situation with, admittedly, some fear and concern about what would happen – how would the people react to what I had to say, and how would the parish respond? There was a little bit of fear there, but what shone show much more brilliantly was love. The people were and have been so supportive of the parish. People came together and prayed, and more than one person stepped up to the plate, from our great staff to the people who fill the pews. The reason that happened was because people at Saint Hubert’s have a love in their heart for God, that is so strong that, just like the love shared between the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, flows outwardly to others. People care about one another here, which is why we thrive as a parish. One life touches so many others. We hear in Isaiah, “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shone. You have brought them abundant joy and great rejoicing.” For people to see the light, it needs to be shone to them. Fr. Gu had other Catholics there to support him and pray with him and remind him he wasn’t alone, and today, we need to be the light to one another. As I said a couple of weeks ago, the greatest gifts we give aren’t to be found under the tree, but are the presence we give to one another; we are the light that can dispel the darkness. From the kids who worked so hard to sing at Christmas Mass to make the liturgy more beautiful, to the parents who are there for their kids through the sports practices and the homework, to the adult children who check in and assist an aging parent, life gives us so many chances to deliver on the promises that we make when we sign “love” to a Christmas card. The challenge for us is to make sure that love is something we live out not just one day, but 365 days out of the year.
We obviously don’t know the exact date of Christ’s birth, but the reason we celebrate it each December 25th is because it coincides with the winter solstice, the shortest and darkest day of the year. These days, especially this winter, the cold and the darkness never seem to end. But the truth is longer days and the strength of the sun going higher in the sky each day means that the white and barren landscape outside will spring to life again – it just takes time. Sometimes a soul can also be a dark place, but the truth of it is in each human being, because they are created by God, is the potential for greatness. It just takes His light to help show us how. Despite the forces of Communism that have tried to destroy hope and faith, or the other forces of evil in the world, Christianity still emerges in China because no force can quell the Holy Spirit. But for a gift to be received, it has to be opened. God has given us His love, but He has also given us free will. And so as we celebrate this feast once again, and go home to the dinners, the family traditions, and await the arrival of Santa, hopefully we never forget the true meaning of this feast: the light dispelling the darkness, and use the rest of our lives to let that light shine on our hearts, and use the rest of our lives to help it shine in one another.
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Holy Family Sunday Homily:
Terry Martin’s family from Edmonton, Alberta, had a hard time figuring out what to give one another for Christmas this year. That’s because they really have all they need, which is one another.
It’s been quite a year for the Martin family. Jacquie, Terry’s wife, was diagnosed with a brain tumor, just before his daughter, Natasha, was injured in a car crash and needed emergency surgery. As if this isn’t enough, his son, Jesse, a 22-year old senior who plays hockey for the University of Denver Pioneers, was hurt in an October 30th game against the University of North Dakota Fighting Sioux, and carried off the ice on a stretcher with a spinal cord injury. Just three days after getting home from visiting Jesse, who had come down to Minnesota for treatment, Terry himself had a heart attack.
In looking at their year, Terry said that they were all having some problems buying Christmas gifts. In his words, “I mean, really, what material things could we give or receive that could provide greater happiness than what we are experiencing by simply being together?” What they’ve found is the gift of family is what matters most. Jesse, who’s recovering, points out that “Like every family, we have had our ups and downs, but the common thread has been that we never forget that we are there for each other no matter what, and we are always able to lean on each other for support. And this support goes beyond the immediate family.
Natasha stayed in Edmonton to help care for her grandmother while Jesse was in Minnesota. And then there has been the hockey family, who have done what they can to help out the family. Jesse says that he has always loved Christmas, “but now you don’t take it for granted – you cherish the time with your friends and family that much more.” And what they’ve seen is through the tragedies that hit them in 2010, each of the four members of that family did what they needed to do. “Somehow, and really without being aware of it, we all seem to offer or derive inspiration when it really matters, each of us sort of taking turns being ‘the rock’ for the family,” says Terry. And because of that, they were able to celebrate Christmas and get through the difficulties, celebrating the gift that they have learned really matters most, which is each other.
Families are an incredible gift, and admittedly they can sometimes drive us up the wall. We fight with one another when we are growing up and then when we grow up. We use passive-aggressive behavior at times, or hold grudges. We argue about the silliest of things, and then are the best of friends again later in the day. But the family is where we learn so much, about life and faith – and that’s why it’s so important to celebrate.
Yesterday, we celebrated the birth of our Lord, and today our Christmas celebration continues as we celebrate the family in which our Lord grew up. And while some might lament commercialization of Christmas, the truth of the matter is I think deep down, most of us are still like the Martins. This fall the Pew Research Center did a survey and found majorities of the population across age segments agreed that family was the most important part of their lives. Seventy-four percent of men and 77 percent of women agreed with that statement. Among 18-29 year olds, most of whom have yet to marry or have kids, 71 said family was the most important to them, and that number jumped to 80% for those between 30-49, and stayed high across each age group. And another recent survey found 75% respond to Christmas not being about presents, but about “good times and family friends.”
But the family has so many challenges, because as people, sometimes we get things quite messed up. Take King Herod, who made a series of decisions to hurt others. This week we have the feast of the Holy Innocents that our Gospel this week alludes to, remembering those little ones whose lives were lost because of him, and he even took the lives of his own family. His actions destroyed not only his own family, but also scores of other families. And there are many Herods in our own day and age; all you have to do is read a newspaper or watch the nightly news and frequently you’ll see someone treating a loved one abhorrently. But the sad truth is the family can be destroyed by many things that don’t make the news. If I could fix them all I’d get my own talk show, but to me there are a few things that seem to really stand out that I think we need to be aware of so we can help our families get to where they need to be, namely making time for one another and living out all that the word “love” means.
I think one of the best ways that can happen is by constantly reminding one another where our priorities need to be, and this is actually one of the things that concerns me the most as a priest. Caren Gerszberg is a writer for the New York Times, and earlier this year she wrote about how she wishes so much that her daughter were less stressed. Her 16-year old daughter has had less and less leisure time. She says that her moods, like many of her peers, have vacillated between solemn and giddy, hysterically sad and uncontrollably happy, and gone from hostile to friendly. Caren was in a high school meeting with other parents, and when talking about problems their kids face, most of the time the conversation went back to the same key words: stress, burden, work and pressure. Caren wrote about how she’s seen juniors replace sports and leisure time with test prep and too much homework, along with college visits and extra curricular activities and other commitments, giving no time for a good nights sleep or something as simple as watching TV. One parent in the group said her kid couldn’t even find time to research schools, so she had to do it. As a priest, this is something I’ve observed too, and I find it distressing. Fr. Tim, the priest I was with at Holy Name, pointed out how Wednesday nights used to be kind of kept free by area schools for church events, as many Protestant and Catholic churches have events Wednesday nights; but that’s gone. So are Sundays free of organized sports; it’s not uncommon to see people come up to communion in a soccer uniform. Now I’m not saying there is anything sinful at all about playing soccer on a Sunday or getting involved in sports, but as I’ve said more than once in a homily to teens, your self worth should not be determined by the sports trophies. No one is going to remember what you did on the baseball diamond next week; people have short memories of yesterday’s heroes. But people are going to remember how you were there for them when you needed them, or an act of kindness you may have shown. I think as a society we put way too much pressure on people at all ages; sometimes a Little Leaguer has the stereotypical sports parent yelling at the coach from the side, and sometimes a teen feels like she needs to be involved in every extracurricular activity under the sun to get into college. In fact, the American Psychological Association in 2009 for the first time asked children as well as adults about their stress levels, and the results found that a carefree childhood isn’t so carefree: 30% of Tweens and 42% of teens get headaches, 39% of Tweens and 49% of teens have a hard time sleeping and 27% of Tweens and 39% of teens say they eat too much or too little. But parents are also stressed out: According to the study: 47 percent of all adults report that they have lain awake at night; 45 percent report irritability or anger; 43 percent report fatigue; 40 percent report lack of interest, motivation or energy; 34 percent report headaches; 34 percent report feeling depressed or sad; 32 percent report feeling as though they could cry; and 27 percent report upset stomach or indigestion as a result of stress. In a house, such behavior is going to be learned. So many mean well and want to get ahead, but we’ve got this constant need to feel busy. I’ve heard more than once in the confessional someone confessing to being lazy, and whenever I hear that I need to do some digging. It could be they need to volunteer or do more, or it could be they are too hard on themselves. Even God took a day off, and we have weekends and vacations. I think one of the best things we can do to support the family is make time for one another. One family I met here at the parish invited me over for family game night, and it was fantastic and uplifting, because this family just had a night set aside for a dinner followed by relaxing games together. I wish that were the case for every family, because it’s so important to remember one can’t give what they can’t have. If someone is swamped with homework and a full calendar, there won’t be any time left for what matter most, and that’s the people in the home. By making time for one another, we can do so much to help one another realize the mission in life isn’t to get the most ribbons, trophies or pieces of paper to hang on a wall, but to get to the kingdom of heaven.
And another big piece of the puzzle in that is forgiveness. I often talk about love at length when I am witnessing a marriage, because we have a bit of a hard time I think differentiating it between other words, such as “like.” A married couple has, obviously, attraction to one another, but there will be days when one person may not be all that attractive to the other. True love will show itself when someone has the guts to say “I’m sorry”, when a spouse takes care of another who is seriously ill or might not even know their name anymore, and in those other moments where love is really put to the test. And the same is true within a family. Some of us have had relatives for a few days over the Christmas holidays, and my hunch is that in more than one house across the country, tensions may be running a bit high. This time of year can put a real strain on families, as people can get on one another’s nerves. Other times, someone may have been uncharitable in their choice of words, and anger and resentment can simmer below the surface for a number of years. We have the image of a peaceful scene in Bethlehem, but I think it would be rather naive to think the Holy Family did not have problems. Certainly everything was not always rosy, but through it all, they remained united in love.
Finally, it might sound crazy, but sometimes we might not realize how much we are loved. Harriet Brown is a journalism teacher at Syracuse University, and reflected on her fear at being an expectant mother for the first time as the fear of whether or not she was capable of loving another human being. It might sound crazy, but it was something she says she learned growing up. Her mom would point to a picture of her and her sister when they were 2 and 5, and Harriet had a scowl on her face, leaning away from her sister, and remarked how she was “always like that.” She reflects, “Maybe all parents say things like this to their children, meaning to describe rather than to harm. But I came to believe it. I grew up thinking of myself as ungracious, selfish and cold, emotionally withholding not just to the younger sister who adored me but to my mother as well. I believed there was something wrong with me; I was missing some crucial element that other people had. I felt like the Tin Man in “The Wizard of Oz,” except no ticking clock could take the place of the heart I seemed to lack. She would hide in her room when her parents would argue, and while her mom hugged her, she says she had a hard time feeling anything. This continued on as she grew up; she’d go in and out of relationships, until her future husband, whom she said she didn’t want anything more than friendship with, was different. He brought out the best in her by simply being at her side. They would go on long walks, share the same food together, and she found that she liked who she was with him. All the while, she would tell herself she was too selfish to love anyone, but his response was “I know who you are. And I know you are a good and loving person.” She says she ended up marrying him because she hoped he was right and hoped there was something inside of her that she couldn’t see. The birth of her first daughter also helped her to see what she had been missing. When she saw her, she says that “for the first time in my life I wasn’t thinking about myself. I wasn’t worrying about what kind of person I was, whether I was good or bad, lovable or not.” She says that “What I felt for my daughter bypassed the language center of my brain altogether. It was a jolt, an electric sizzle that connected my head to my heart. It wasn’t hearts and flowers; in fact, much of the time it felt nearly unbearable, like blood starting to flow into a frozen extremity. My feelings for my daughter constricted my chest and kept me up nights, worrying about whether she was getting enough to eat, to drink, whether she was happy. Whether she was still breathing… this connection we had, this bond — this was a whole new experience. For weeks I did not, could not name it. And then one day the word slid out of my mouth as my daughter cried on the changing table. “I love you, yes I do,” I said, patting her dry, fastening the Velcro strips on the diaper cover. And for the first time in my life, I believed it.” Now in her early 20’s and her other daughter a teen, “love” is a word they use all the time. Harriet comes to think of herself as capable of giving and receiving love, and that’s transformed how she’s looked at her life. She even looks at that old picture of her as a 5-year old, and looking at it more closely realizes it might not be a scowl at all, but her squinting her eyes from the sun that day, and her leaning away from her sister may have been her leaning towards her grandma who was outside of the frame. I don’t think her story is all that atypical. If you think about how often we say the word “love” to people, from signing it in high school yearbooks to Christmas cards, and how often we deliver on it, that can be tough. Again, liking and loving aren’t the same – we might not like someone’s actions, but love sees it through difficult times. We don’t just love when we forgive, we love when we spontaneously do something kind for someone; when we get involved in one another’s lives and read beyond the line “nothing happened at school today” or figure out that a loved one might have a whole lot of stress at work or school. Love can never be implied; it has to be shown day in and day out, and given and received, and figuring out how to do it right takes a lifetime. Sometimes we have a hard time remembering how much we matter to other people and of how we are unique in all of creation. We need to do all we can to help one another remember that important fact that God loves us in a unique and special way by the simple actions that we do day in and day out that bring God’s love into their life and say to someone “I love you for who you are, not for what you do.”
For my Christmas cards this year I wanted to do something a little different, so I took my camera and found out where I could find some Christmas scenes in stained glass at area Catholic Churches. I talked to a priest friend, Fr. John Paul Erickson who I knew in seminary, and he recommended the parish he serves at, Saint Agnes. And so when I went there, I saw a number of beautiful images in glass that filled the sanctuary with sunlight, but one of my favorites was an image I hadn’t seen before. It was of the Holy Family not on Christmas night or in any specific Biblical scene, but about 10 to 12 years after Bethlehem. Joseph is working as a carpenter, a young Jesus in His tweens is helping him out, and behind is Mary making some clothing, looking at her husband and Son with love. I love that window, because it’s a reminder to just how important family is. Family life can become so stressful in running around from appointments to school events to practices, but at it’s core, a family shapes us into the people we become. Mary picked up her young son and taught Him how to live His life, as did Joseph. When you think about the many unrecorded years of Jesus’ life, how much He must have learned from His parents: how to be there for one another and to be a person of your word; how to make sacrifices for people, and how to give of your time to help one another out. Much like the Martin family, I think the Holy Family was most grateful for the gift of one another. Sometimes those around us will truly drive us the most crazy, but at the end of the day it’s those people we call family that can do so much to either open our eyes or close our eyes into seeing the true meaning of love, the heart of the Christian message. Life on earth is so short, and in the blink of an eye, kids grow up and move away, and when we least expect it we might lose someone we care about. We might not see it clearly all the time, but the family is such a precious gift that is meant to be united together in love. Hopefully we help make that happen not just at Christmas or ars when things are going well, but over every day of our lives.
