It is the last day of the year, and the day 54 years ago that my father and mother brought me to the saving waters of baptism at Star of the Sea parish on City Island, New York. Thank you, dear father and mother, for bringing me to Jesus. May I never leave Him! May I never betray your trust in me, your infant son, as you brought me to the waters on the last day of 1961. I keep a copy of my baptismal certificate above my desk to remind myself every day of this gift.
 
On my birthday four weeks ago, I received a lovely card from a dear friend, a mother of many children. Rather than congratulating me, she thanked my parents for bringing me to birth, for baptizing and educating me in the faith, and giving another priest to the Church. It is healthy to think of one’s parents rather than one’s self on a birthday, lest we become discouraged over the insignificance of our lives. Of ourselves, we are indeed insignificant, and we are tempted to ask: Does anyone know or love me? Has my life meant anything to anyone? My parents know and love me, and my life has significance simply because of them.
 
But we are tempted to want more than our parents’ love. They have to love us, after all. We want to earn love. We want to captivate, to purchase, to own love. But as I grow older, I see that no “purchased” love lasts. Only received love lasts, that which we receive from God, and which he imparts to our parents to give to their children. In the end, only the gift remains.
 
Sr. Wendy Beckett, the renowned art critic and spiritual writer, wrote that we all carry a stick and a begging purse. Our life’s project is to throw both away. The begging purse wheedles to be known and loved. I used to plead with kids on the playground, “I’ll be your best friend if you play with me….” The stick aggressively defends us against insignificance. We wave it at those who do not pay attention to us, and even threaten those who do not pay us their love. I used to threaten kids on the playground, “I won’t be your friend anymore if you don’t play with me.”
 
Only a ready knowledge of God’s love, learned over many years, can cast the stick and purse away. This New Year, I desire to know for certain that the world cannot give meaning to my existence. It’s “God or Nothing” (I highly recommend the recent book published under that title). This year, if I can only cast the world aside will I be capable of receiving all.
 
If I am listening, I often hear God speaking to me personally when I pray the breviary. So it was this morning, when he tenderly reminded me of his gift 54 years ago: “In baptism you were not only buried with him but also raised to live with him,” St. Paul wrote in the first reading. “Continue to live in Christ Jesus the Lord, in the spirit in which you received him. Be rooted in him, and built up in him .…”
 
May God grant that I can believe in my baptism this year! Christ alone gives significance to our lives. If we know Him, we know ourselves, and we can cast the stick and purse from us. We can be forever free of this world’s empty promises.

The Holy Family
On the Sunday after Christmas, the Church directs her thoughts to the Family, indeed, the “Holy Family.” With the Bethlehem shepherds, we kneel to gaze upon that most basic, God-given community—the family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. This year I found it very hard to find Christmas cards with Jesus, Mary, and Joseph on them. Snowmen, reindeer, ice-skating Snoopies and penguins with Santa Hats—all sorts of imaginary images but not one of Jesus and his family. Try this: google “Christmas” and click the images tab. How many silly images of Santa Clauses and chorus girls in red tights will you go through before you get an image of Jesus and Mary? But a culture embarrassed about Jesus at Christmas is like a teenager embarrassed to be seen with his mother in public. We love her, and depend on her, but can’t possibly be seen with her.
 
Hannah’s Offering
The first reading for today’s feast is the lovely story of Hannah in the temple, from First Samuel. The beautiful Hannah had been married to Elkanah for many years but God had not given them a child. In the Jewish culture especially, to be childless was a woman’s greatest shame and sorrow. Hannah had made a sort of deal with Yahweh: “if you give me a child, I will dedicate him to your service.” You can imagine a devout Catholic woman promising God her firstborn son she for the priesthood. Well, Hannah has a baby boy and brings him to the temple: “I prayed for this child,” she tells the temple priest Eli, “and the Lord granted my request. Now I, in turn, give him to the Lord.” With those words, she turns and leaves the temple. Can you feel the pathos as she leaves her child behind? God graciously accepted her offer, and the child Samuel grows up to become one of Israel’s greatest prophets.
 
The Finding in the Temple
Hannah leaves her only child in the temple and walks away. Another mother will leave her only child in the temple and walk away—we hear of this in the Gospel today, and every time we pray the fifth mystery of the rosary. The Blessed Mother of Jesus leaves her only son in the temple, or rather, he deliberately separates himself from her. Men and women at the time traveled in separate caravans, and boys could travel with either one. We can understand how Joseph thought Jesus was with the women, and Mary thought he was with the men. An entire day lapses before they learn that Jesus was not with either one. Beyond the horror of losing their only child, they had lost the promised Messiah and failed their entire nation. They rush back to Jerusalem and spend three days searching for the lost child. Mary is understandably upset: Son, why have you done this to us? Do you not know that your father and I have been looking for you for three days? But the boy’s reply is mysterious: “Why were you looking for me? Did you not know I must be in my Father’s house?” He seems to disrespect both parents (“I am not subject to anyone but my Father, and Joseph is not my father”). But isn’t that how God works with us at times, leading us through confusion to a greater faith?
 
The Lord Jesus, even at age 12, leads his own mother into a greater faith. She who is given a child must give that child back to God, as Hannah did, and keep silence before God’s mysteries. She said not another word, and learned that her child is not her own. Everything we have—the home we live in, the car we drive, the body we use—is from God and going back to God. It is our role to send it all back to Him. Dedicating a son for God’s purposes is a woman’s deepest desire, and why so many mothers cry to me that their children are no longer attending Mass. Above all we want our children’s greatest good, which is to know, love and serve God, but God demands that service in a manner and time of His own choosing. It is sometimes very hard to give when He asks, and we sense we have lost our chance if we don’t give our children when and how He demands. But God always gives us another chance to entrust ourselves, and our children, to Him.
 
Still our best hope to reach God
The family is still our best hope of doing that. Simply by having children, we honor God. We honor Him more perfectly by educating these children to know, love, and serve Him in this life, and to be happy with Him in the next. And in honoring God, we honor the entire human family. “How vast and rich,” writes St. John Paul, “is the treasure of Christian truth about the family! It is a necessary good for peoples, an indispensable foundation for society… it is a unique good for children… a school which enables men and women to grow to the full measure of their humanity.” How vast and rich this mystery, before which we kneel today. Let us ask Our Lady to help us honor God in our marriages, in our children, in our families.  

Christmastime in the City. What makes it so beautiful? Last night a few friends and I went to our city Symphony’s Messiah, but we had dinner at Max’s beforehand (everyone has dinner at Max’s before the show). The restaurant was packed with gleeful folks on their way to Christmas concerts, operas, and ballets. Christmas lights, holiday music, and that special spring in everyone’s step, that touch of joy in everyone’s voice, filled San Francisco’s Civic Center. For these few days at least, everyone in the city has agreed that we can regard each other with good cheer.
 
How is it that Christmastime in the City brings about this particular magic within the maddening crowds? Dickens tried to describe it, and unfailingly this cheer returns year after year. I can scarcely believe it is mere mass self-delusion generated by a Christian myth about the Messiah. As the choir rang out Handle’s words last night from the Prophet Isaiah, “For unto us a Son is given….,” a truth overwhelmed the entire city. There is more good than bad in the world, and we can order our lives together peacefully.
 
Handel’s Messiah is always more than a concert; the Hallelujah Chorus brings even the most jaded atheists to their feet as the words “King of Kings and Lord of Lords” rings through the night. Why does Christmastime in the City sparkle? I think because the sheer concentration of people in a city is a concentration of goodness and beauty. For these few days, by the grace of the Son who is given us, the vast majority of humanity in any city chooses to be good and beautiful. Even if it is only once a year, for a few weeks, Christmastime is a glimpse into what could be, what will be, and what in fact is. People are intrinsically good, true, and beautiful.

Mother of Mercy
We began the Jubilee Year of Mercy on Tuesday of last week, with the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception. Pope Francis chose the great feast of Our Lady because she is the Mother of Mercy, the Mater Misericordiae, as we say in the Hail Holy Queen prayer at the end of the rosary. “Hail, Holy Queen, Mother of Mercy, our Life, our sweetness, and our hope….” And on Saturday we celebrated Our Lady of Guadalupe, who appeared to Juan Diego in the traditional image of the Immaculate Conception. Our current Pope is dedicated to the mercy of God, because he is dedicated to the Mother of God. In fact, the first public act he did after becoming Pope was to pray at Our Lady’s Church in Rome, St. Mary Major.
 
Gaudete
This Sunday, which follows such beautiful feasts of Our Lady, is called Gaudete, from the first words of the Introit: Gaudete in Domino, “rejoice in the Lord….” So our 3rd Sunday in Advent, called Gaudete Sunday, focuses on Christian joy. Pope Francis began his letter establishing our Year of Mercy with these words: “We need constantly to contemplate the mystery of mercy. It is a wellspring of joy….” A man who is kind and merciful, who is patient and understanding, is filled with joy. He realizes what God has given him overflows with zeal to share that joy. Confessing God’s mercy, and practicing kindness in our turn, is the “wellspring” of all true joy. We are witnesses to joy; we insist that, despite what the evening news tells us night after night, we live under friendly skies. We are in God’s hands, and he is a loving father.
 
The Prophet commands us in the first reading, “shout for joy, O Daughter Zion; sing joyfully, O Israel.” How can the most persecuted of nations be expected to sing joyfully, and yet they do. Have you ever heard an Israeli folk song, such as Advent hymn The King of Glory Comes, the Nation rejoices? Singing a Jewish folksong sets your toes tapping—see with what joy Jewish people dance! It is because they are witnessing to God’s mercy as the Chosen People. “Fear not, Jerusalem, the Lord your God is in your midst….” How much more joy for us Christians, who know the fullness of Emmanuel, who have the Church and the Sacraments and the plenitude of God’s word! One of the first Christians, St. Paul, also commands us to be joyful in the second reading: “Brethren, rejoice in the Lord always. I shall say it again: rejoice!” Did you know that Paul wrote those words to the Philippians from prison? He goes on: “your kindness should be known to all.” And I say, this is what brings true joy: mercy, kindness, thoughtfulness, self-giving brings joy. Giving brings joy, which is why the season of giving, Christmas, is the most joyful time of the year.
 
John the Baptist: Basic Mercy
John the Baptist in the Gospel commands the people to make straight the path for Jesus. And they ask him what they must do. He says: be kind. Practice basic mercy. Government officials should not abuse their power. Even soldiers be kind to those who are weaker than them. Whoever has two cloaks should share one with the needy. A few months ago a homeless man came to the rectory door, asking for food and clothing. He needed a coat, and at first I was just going to give him some money. But then I thought: I have six or seven coats in my closet. I like them all, but why not give him something of my own? So I did, and what joy it brought to both of us. That’s all St. John is asking us to do. Nothing too heroic, but simply basic mercy.
 
Mother of Mercy
Which brings us back to Our Lady. From whom can we learn kindness more than from her? From whom can we learn thoughtfulness more than from her who noticed the wedding party had run out of wine? From whom can we learn forgiveness more than from her who did not blame those who crucified her son? From whom can we learn generosity more than from her who gave her son to the magi and the shepherds?
 
Our Holy Mother of Guadalupe said these words to Juan Diego in 1531: "Listen, and keep in your heart, my youngest son, that there is nothing for you to fear. Let not your face nor your heart be worried. Am I not here, I who am your mother? Am I not the fountain of your joy? Are you not in the fold of my mantle, in the crossing of my arms?” And so she showed Juan Diego, and his entire nation, all the loving kindness within her power. She is the Cause of our Joy, and so we go to Jesus with her to learn true mercy and true joy.

The Day of Judgment
Advent is composed of two stages, from Dec 1-16, in which we prepare for Jesus’ Second Coming and his Final Judgment, and Dec 18-24, the novena for Christmas. Today’s readings and prayers speak rather of that Judgement: justice will be meted out to the wicked and mercy to the righteous. The prayer over the gifts: “O Lord, since we have no merits to plead our cause, come, we pray, to our rescue…” And the Preface: “We watch for that day to inherit the great promise in which we now dare to hope.” The first reading: “Not by appearance shall he judge: he shall strike the ruthless with the rod of his mouth and slay the wicked.” And the Gospel: “Repent, …you brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Even now the ax lies at the root.” Trees that bear no fruit will be cut down and thrown into fire.
 
Certainly everyone fears judgment. Even in our “enlightened” and “liberated” society, or perhaps especially among people that ignore the existence of a Divine Authority, people sense that man’s injustice cannot go on forever. But if God is not my judge, then no one is my judge? So people avoid judgment in cases of obvious wrongdoing—they hire lawyers to contest simple traffic tickets and insist on their innocence in cases of even grave crime. You just need the right lawyer—remember the many corporate fraud cases such as Enron and Worldcom. You will hear people say “I left the Church because it is so judgmental.” “No one can impose their morality on me.” We all pretend that somehow we will escape judgment, and many go so far as to pretend that God and natural law do not even exist. But as one of my seminary professors said, “you can’t break the natural law; you can only break against the natural law.”
 
The Winnowing Fan
Advent, like Lent, is a season to prepare for the coming of Christ by confessing, and submitting to, his divine judgment. That judgment is fearsome, for it submits itself to no human appeal. That judgment is also our only hope, for it decisively corrects human error. There will come a day, the last of human history, when God will right this tilting ship. There will come a time when the wolf will be the guest of the lamb, and the child will play by the cobra’s den—when children will play next to buildings that were once abortion clinics.  There will come a day when “the earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the Lord, as the water covers the sea.” That day will surely come, for God has promised it, and his promises are sure. But it will come only after the judgment, because divine mercy comes to us only through divine justice. Is Jesus a meek and mild baby in the lap of his maiden mother Mary, or is Jesus a terrifying Judge coming on the clouds with fearsome power? He is both: for the faithful, Christ’s judgment is mercy; for the unfaithful, his judgment is swift and terrible justice.
 
We will all be threshed
“All Judea and the whole region” were rushing to John the Baptist by the River as they “acknowledged their sins.” God’s judgment is a threshing, a separation: he will separate wheat from chaff. The chaff he will burn and the wheat he will gather to himself, into his barn (heaven). John asserts that “His winnowing fan is in his hand….” A winnowing fan was a pitchfork that a farmer used to toss the mixture of wheat and chaff into the air, so that the wind could blow away the chaff while the heavier grain would fall to earth. It is said that a friend is one who separates wheat from chaff in the one he loves. And yet this separation, while a necessary dynamic of friendship painfully shakes us up.
 
God threshes every man, shaking out our sins like a man shakes out a dirty rug. He is doing that already, for purgatory begins now, in this life. Let God thresh and winnow you. “Take what he gives, and give what he takes, with a big smile,” in the words of Mother Teresa. A saint is simply one who submits herself to the threshing judgment of God, who does not resist when she is tossed about by divine providence, who allows herself to be purified of her chaff. Trust the Lord’s threshing of your life, for He knows what he is about.
 
The Immaculate Conception 
Tuesday is the patronal feast of our Nation, the Immaculate Conception, although we will celebrate it tomorrow so as not to displace a Sunday. Our Lady is the only daughter of men that did not need to be threshed, because she had no sin. And yet God did thresh her: he led her through trial, sorrow, confusion, and darkness. Like Jesus, she experienced the full weight of sin’s consequences, even though herself without sin. If even she patiently underwent this threshing, cannot we also patiently accept God’s disciplines in our lives? With her, we gladly offer difficulties, aches and pains, perplexities, weaknesses, and darkness. We allow God to winnow us, so that we may gathered into his heaven with the Immaculata and all the saints, for he is the judge, the just judge, living and reigning forever and ever. Amen.

If any of you, my dear readers, are within driving distance of San Francisco, I invite you to all or part of our Parish Advent Mission beginning tomorrow, December 7th.
 
Fr. Joseph Fessio, SJ, the founding editor of Ignatius Press, will speak Dec 7, 8, and 9 at 7:30pm each evening at Star of the Sea (4420 Geary Blvd., San Francisco) on The Sacred Liturgy, Source of All Mercy. There is no charge to the mission, of course, and we will serve refreshments after the Tuesday talk, in honor of Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception. And don’t forget to go to Mass that day! We will have a Latin sung Mass at 6:30pm on Dec 8, just before Fr. Fessio’s presentation at 7:30.