Dear Family,
“COMING TO.” Today we begin the Liturgical year 2023, with the season of Advent. Ad Venio is the Latin for “I come to...”. To What? Obviously, we begin with the time that immediately precedes Christmas.

Yes, Christmas is coming, but I think we are talking about much more. We begin coming to another tour through the saving events of Christ’s life.

This year, as you know, St. Matthew will be our tour guide. His gospel is written for the Jewish Christian community, so we will find more references to the Hebrew scriptures, aka Old Testament. We heard a mention of Noah today.

When I talk about a “coming,” I’m thinking about the whole package, another journey through times and events in the life of Jesus that we heard about in the past, and yet because God’s word is ever-new, we have the chance to hear the stories differently. The difference is the circumstances of our own lives that are always changing.

Dear Family,
Today is the FEAST OF JESUS CHRIST, KING OF THE UNIVERSE.

This feast ends our liturgical year, the cycle of Sundays and holidays that celebrate the Good News of our Salvation. We have walked with the evangelist, Luke. Next Sunday, the first Sunday of Advent, we begin a new year with Matthew.

Risking the cliché chasm, we hear that the Word of God is ‘living and active.’ (Hebrews 4:12). For me it means that no matter how many times I may have heard this or that Scripture passage, it always has the possibility of new insights. This year it’s Matthew’s turn to offer us new discoveries and rediscoveries.

As the saying goes, “Man proposes, God disposes.” With Hurricane Nicole aiming at us last week, I ‘proposed’ closing up for two days, only to wake up and find that God had ‘disposed’ of Nicole in another venue. The sun was shining on our closed sanctuary. And of course, at that point, there was no way to say we’ll have Mass after all.

Moving on, Thursday we celebrate Thanksgiving. Our civil holiday has always been rooted in an attitude of thanks that ultimately finds its way to God.

Dear Family,
Today is the second to the last Sunday in the liturgical year 2022. This year we heard the story of Jesus with St. Luke as our narrator. Next Sunday is the feast of Christ the King, with great upbeat scriptures, a great way to end.

Today is the last Sunday when we hear of “end-time” scenarios, another of these “judgement” passages. Jesus speaks to his disciples:

“You will even be handed over by parents,
brothers, relatives, and friends,
and they will put some of you to death.
You will be hated by all because of my name,
but not a hair on your head will be destroyed.”

When I read that passage from today’s gospel, my first reaction was, “Huh?” How can you be put to death but not a hair will be destroyed? (I’m a little touchy about hair.)

Dear Family,
What I’m about to write probably comes under the heading of dumb, but as I write, it is early in the week and no one won the Powerball last night (Halloween.) Perhaps Wednesday is someone’s “lucky” day.

The ‘dumb heading’ part is a question: Can I get as excited about going to heaven as I can about winning the Powerball? Part of the issue is that Powerball is a here-and-now thing whereas our heavenly anticipations are a part of our lives all the time.

To be honest, I really am not that excited about Powerball, but it did get me thinking about just how excited I am about heaven. After all, isn’t anticipation half the fun?

I was talking with someone last week about the idea of going to heaven. I wondered if when we were growing up, subconsciously we picked up the idea that saying you were going to heaven was really presumptuous.

At 81, I find the question has a shade more urgency, although I have told many I’m going to be here at least until 2029. My recently renewed driver’s license is good until then and I don’t want to give back to Florida any of that time.