In Epiphania Domini, 2020

Hello friend,

Merry Christmas. The new year is a great opportunity to reflect. It allows me to re-examine my fundamental values and beliefs. In practical terms, this led me to service. How can I love my community in concrete ways? Much of that answer hides in the ordinariness of life. Christ spent the majority of His life hidden (cf. CCC 351 -34). In the family, He ‘grew in holiness.’ So it goes with me. The dishwasher isn’t the worst path to heaven. Then there is the chance to support the parish. That includes classes to help English learners. These students blow my mind. The class starts at 6pm, around dinner time. That means these men and women finished work. Then they decided to conjugate verbs. It’s heroic virtue if I ever saw it.

This next year will bring more opportunities like that. Particularly, I have a chance at catechesis. That’s the topic of a podcast episode I made. It was a joy to be able to complete this project. The idea started about the same time of this blog. What is the catechism? How do you talk about it? Do different faith levels understand it? All that and more in the

Rehearsal Hall

.

Thus, the catechism stands as my constant reminder to hope. For many, this is not an easy task. Christmas is a festive season. Yet, again, this world is our ship, not our home. By any measure, this life is imperfect. We know evil and its effects. Advent is the gift that puts joy in perspective. How? Last time, I wrote about the otherness of God. He is ‘otherly other.’ God is so different that He can be intimate with us. To use Augustine:

“You were more inward to me than my most inward part.”

Much of my Advent time focused on my desire for God. Maranatha. Come, Lord Jesus. O Come Emmanuel. Then grace prompted this idea: God longs for us. How much more does God desire me?

Such intimacy leads to our response. Our previous discussion on the catechism centered on its form. God does, we respond. The catechism mirrors this structure. The first two parts discuss God’s acts; who is God and what grace He gives in the sacraments. Moreover, He is a singer who sings. We are His song and get to join Him. God teaches us this song. We walk beside God in His divine life. That school of how to be like God is virtue. We learn virtue through the commandments. It may be that you’re familiar with music. So, it seems natural this metaphorical progression. It’s easy to see the commandments as sheet music. God the singer dictates to us. He tells us what to do and not do. That’s what’s in the commandments. This makes sense. It’s how many of us understand the commandments. Yet, the catechism paints a different picture (if you’ll excuse the dissonant metaphors). The primary concern of revelation is not about directives. The church reminds us that God wants our happiness. This is the only way to understand the commandments. They’re God’s gift to show us how be like Him.

It is for freedom that God set you free.

Gal 5:1

Thus, God doesn’t dictate our actions with the commandments. If sheet music doesn’t fit the metaphor, what does? Much more, the commandments act like a tool. They rely on the rest of the Christian life for fulfilment. God gives us enough to join His song. We have the bare bones because we’re free. The commandments purify our creativity. We have a chord book. In contrast to sheet music, chord books convey little. Another example might be a song book. Such tools are only useful for the initiated. If you don’t know the song, a chord book is useless. But to those who know, they encourage improvisation. In the same way, the commandments call us to freedom. God calls us to His happiness.

There is one last piece to this song. Revelation gives us God’s song and instrument. He also teaches us to use those instruments. The last metaphor borders on obvious. It’s easy to forget. Any song can devolve into chaos quick. This happens in a couple of ways; pitch and rhythm. If someone is off beat or off tune; the whole song is off. Musicians understand the vital role of a metronome and tuner fork. Once everyone follows this universal standard, they play on. It’s this relationship to the standard the catechism calls prayer. What’s great about this metaphor is its truth in science. 60 beats per minute will always be 60 bpm. And it always has been 60 bpm. Likewise, 440 hertz always was and always will be. God’s happiness is always our standard. His otherly-ness prompts Him to draw closer to us. It’s through this lens we look at the Jesus’s birth. Advent and Christmas recount this dramatic tale of desire.

Christ comes to meet every human being. It is he who first seeks us and asks us for a drink. Jesus thirsts; his asking arises from the depths of god’s desire for us. Whether we realize it or not prayer is the encounter of god’s thirst with ours. God thirsts that we may thirst for him.

CCC 2560

In what do we hope? This time of year is call to remember. It’s also a time expect newness. Resolutions always make me defensive. That’s the perfectionism in my pride. Yet, revelation can purify even that. Such hesitation offers me the opportunity to turn to prayer. Like all muscles, the habit of trust takes practice. In other words, it’s a call to adventure.

For nothing will be impossible with God.

Lk 1:37