St. Joseph Church Homilies

For the last three weeks, we’ve been reflecting on stories. Regardless of if it’s for books or streaming services, we’re willing to pay lots for stories because we love them. Stories help us understand the world and the people in it. They inspire us and offer a great distraction. Even the stories we heard as children contain lessons we continue to live by. We like stories because, really, each of our lives is a story. How you’ve chosen to live your life will one day be a story you’ll tell your children or grandchildren or maybe others will tell it about you.

Now, when watching a movie or reading a book, we usually have an advantage over the characters, a perspective of the larger story; we know more than the characters do. Unfortunately, that’s often exactly what we don’t have when it comes to our own life stories. So often we make decisions without understanding how they connect to our past or future or the stories of others.

When the wine ran out at the wedding of Cana, many feared embarrassment. But Mary saw the bigger picture. Knowing God was there, she referred to Jesus, urging the people to, “…Do whatever he tells you.”[1] Our life story is important, but not because of us. When we recognize God as the central and most important figure in our stories, the unexpected and challenging moments of life, welcome or otherwise, become opportunities to realize a much larger story, a story of salvation that’s for us.

Sometimes our stories contain parts that we just don’t like; maybe they seem irredeemably embarrassing or tragic or just incredibly far from the goodness and love of God. We all have regret; no one gets it right all the time. But that’s not where our story stops. Just as the exiled people rebuilt the city of Jerusalem from the ruins of past mistakes, God can take our regrets and rebuild. The best part of any story, after all, is the ending and we look forward to an awesome ending shaped by God himself.

Through the example of the prophet Jeremiah, we reflected on the call of God. I believe God, the divine author, is always calling out to shape our story. But plenty holds us back from truly listening for him. When we’re too busy or forget to pray, when we allow worry to fill our minds, forget about our call to serve or allow habits that are incompatible with God’s love to consume our time or thoughts, our capacity to listen for God is crippled. Excuses too, often prevents us from accepting God’s plan for our story. So, with the help of the Holy Spirit, we work to overcome those obstacles.

Sometimes, God’s larger story seems so big that it’s tempting to just ignore it altogether. After all, if we don’t see the bigger picture, if we’re unaware of this great ongoing story God is forming, how can we ever hope to participate in it? Perhaps this very same question crossed the mind of Peter. In the Gospel this weekend, we heard about the moment when Peter was invited to play a role in God’s larger story. Up to this point, Peter had been living out his own life story as best as he could as a fisherman. Maybe he was doing a fine job at it.

But then he encountered Jesus who invited Peter into God’s larger story through three requests. First, Jesus asked Peter to row him a little way into the lake so he could safely address a large crowd. Had he stuck to living out his own story, the tired fisherman could have turned down the request. But Peter agreed to take part in God’s larger story of salvation and heard the Good News of Jesus from a front row seat.

Next, Jesus asked Peter to row into a deeper part of the lake and let down his nets for a catch. Had he focused on his own life story, the experienced fisherman, who knew the best time to fish was during the co...

I hear that Netflix is raising prices for their service over the next month. But most will just continue to pay whatever they ask. We pay either from our wallets or by watching ads because we love stories. Stories help us understand the world and the people in it. They inspire us and can offer a great distraction when needed. Even the silly stories we heard as children contain lessons we continue to live by into adulthood. We like stories because, really, each of our lives is a story. The decisions you make and how you’ve chosen to live your life will one day be a story you’ll tell your children or grandchildren or maybe others will tell it about you. We often praise God at the death of a loved one by retelling their story.

Now, when watching a movie or reading a book, we often have an advantage over the characters in the story. We usually have a perspective of the larger story and know more than the characters do. Unfortunately, that’s often exactly what we don’t have when it comes to our own life stories. So often we make decisions without understanding how they connect to our past, what they might mean for the future or how our life story intersects with the stories of others. I think, this weekend, we’re witnessing this very thing through the debates raised at the so-called ‘freedom convoy’.

Your life story is important, but probably not in the way you think. When the wine ran out at the wedding of Cana and many feared embarrassment, Mary could see the bigger picture. She knew God was there and, referring to Jesus, urged the people to, “…Do whatever he tells you.”[1] Our life story isn’t important because of us; we’re not even the central figure in our life stories. When we recognize that God is the central and most important figure in our stories, the unexpected and challenging moments of life, welcome or otherwise, become opportunities to realize a much larger story, a story of salvation that’s for us.

Last weekend, we reflected on those parts of our life story that we just don’t like; maybe they seem irredeemably embarrassing or tragic or just incredibly far from the goodness and love of God. This is something everyone faces because no one gets it right all the time. We all have regret. But that’s not where our story stops. Just as the exiled people rebuilt the city of Jerusalem from the ruins of past mistakes, God can take our regrets and rebuild. The best part of any story, after all, is the ending and we look forward to an awesome ending shaped by God himself.

Indeed, God works to help shape the outcome of each of our life stories. But we must also acknowledge the impact our story can have on others too. In the first reading today, we hear about the prophet Jeremiah, though he wasn’t always a prophet. Jeremiah shares about the moment when he accepted the call to be a prophet. He starts, “…the word of the Lord came to me…”[2]. There’s nothing to indicate that Jeremiah was looking for a call or that he was discerning God’s plan. But he must have been listening for God at least in that one moment.

Our seminarians, those young men wondering if they are called to serve as priests, spend many years working to earn a master’s level degree from the University of Toronto. When I served as vocation director, one young man came forward with a question: could he not just go to the university and earn the same degree on his own and then be ordained? He would take the same classes and receive the same degree, after all. The man thought he may have been called to be a priest but didn’t really want to be subject to the schedule of the seminary or to live in community with others. The short answer was, ‘no’. That wasn’t an option.

A central part of our worship at every Mass is stories. Stories make up a large part of the scriptures we reflect on and without them, most of what we do here loses meaning. We all love stories. We love them so much that we’re willing to hand over a good portion of our paycheques to Netflix and Disney. Who could even begin to calculate how much time we’ve each spent watching advertisements, though we’re happy to do so with the promise of a good story. The silly stories we heard as children contained valuable lessons we continue to live by into adulthood. However, stories best left untold can tempt us to gossip.

We like stories because really, each of our lives is a story. The decisions you make and how you’ve chosen to live your life will one day be a story you’ll tell your children or grandchildren or maybe others will tell it about you. At the death of a loved one, praise is often given to God for the life of the deceased through the retelling of their story.

When watching a movie or reading a book, we often know more than the characters in the story do; we have a perspective of the larger story. Unfortunately, that’s often exactly what we don’t have when it comes to our own life stories. So often we make decisions without understanding how they connect to our past, what they might mean for the future or how our life story intersects with the stories of others.

Last week, we reflected on how the story of your life is important, but probably not in the way you think. When the wine ran out at the wedding of Cana, many feared embarrassment. Mary however, could see the bigger picture. She knew God was there and, referring to Jesus, urged the people to, “…Do whatever he tells you.”[1] Our life story isn’t important because of us; we’re not even the central figure in our life stories. No, our stories are important because of God. When we recognize this, the unexpected and challenging moments of life, welcome or otherwise, become opportunities to realize a much larger story, a story of salvation that’s for us.

Now, sometimes there are parts of our life story that we just don’t like, maybe because they’re embarrassing or tragic or just incredibly far from the goodness and love of God. The natural inclination is to hide those parts of our stories away, to put them out of mind and even pretend they don’t exist. We fear these parts of our story to be irredeemable and even the thought of having to face these parts can keep us up at night.

In the first reading this weekend, we’re introduced to Nehemiah and Ezra, two Jewish men who had been living in exile in Persia along with many others. The people hadn’t kept up their part of the covenant with God, effectively separating themselves from the source of life and love. As a result, Judah was overrun, Jerusalem and the temple were destroyed and the people were exiled, forced to live under the rule of the Babylonians and Persians.

During the exile, Nehemiah had a pretty good job as one of the king’s advisors. But, despite enjoying the luxuries of the Persian palace, Nehemiah just couldn’t find happiness, knowing the state of things in his homeland. So one day, he took a big risk and asked the king if he could have a leave of absence to go to Jerusalem and begin a rebuilding effort. Oh, and he also asked if the king would pay for the whole endeavour. Unexpectedly, the king said yes and appointed Nehemiah governor of Judah. After only a few months, Nehemiah inspired the people of Jerusalem, overcame all kinds of obstacles and rebuilt the city.

At the end of the project, as an act of thanksgiving, the people gathered for a celebration, which began with a worship service. At this celebration,

I’m sure you’ve noticed: as the Christmas season has ended, our Christmas decorations have been put away. I have to give lots of thanks to those who contributed to our Christmas decorations this year. I think of the team who came in just before Christmas, an especially busy time for many, to beautifully decorate this space. I think of the donation of the huge tree we enjoyed for a few weeks. I think also of those who financially contributed too, so we could afford all those poinsettias. Sadly, most of those plants haven’t survived. I don’t think they’re made for our climate or long winter nights. Especially to those who contributed to our Christmas decorations, feel free to take any of the remaining poinsettias home with you after Mass.

But on reflecting back on Christmas, on the hard work of decorating and cleaning up, on all the planning, preparation and even on all the people who came to join us for that celebration, it seems to me that a large part of the motivation to celebrate Christmas is the story. At Christmas, we hear a stories about a manger and stable, about stars in the sky, a birth and the risky escape of a family from a ruthless king.

We all love stories and will spend lots of our hard-earned money on stories. Where would the Disney empire be without stories? Who would bother watching two fifteen second advertisements on YouTube without the promise of a good story? “Have I a story to tell you…”. A captivating sin for many: gossip is usually formed around stories best left untold. Silly children’s stories never forgotten have taught us to build houses of bricks, avoid grandma if she suddenly develops sharp teeth and if you come across a house of candy, just keep walking.

The reason we like good stories is simple. We like stories because, really, our lives are a story. Each of us is a living story. The decisions you’re making right now will one day be a story. One day, this time of your life and how you have chosen to live it will be a story you tell your children or grandchildren or maybe others will tell it about you. One of the reason why a wake is typically part of the Catholic Funeral Rites is because that’s where the stories of a loved one passed away begin to transform into fables.

Now, when watching a movie and witnessing characters making decisions, we have an advantage, a perspective of the larger story; we often know things the characters in the story do not. I’m not asking anyone here to publicly admit to such a thing, but are there any here who shout out at the characters in a movie? Do any here maybe try telling the unfortunate in the horror movie not to go down into the basement or try telling the girl in a romance movie to dump him because he’s clearly playing? If you’re one of those people, please don’t invite me over for a movie. Of course, we know the people on our screens can’t hear us, but those watching a movie often understand the bigger picture of the story, we have greater insight into how a character should act or decide because we are more aware of what’s going on than the characters are.

Unfortunately, that’s often exactly what we don’t have when it comes to our own stories. So often we make decisions without an understanding of how it connects to our past or what it might mean for the future. We can fall into the same dumb choices and decisions simply because we have never slowed down to examine the bigger picture.

In the Gospel today, we heard about an unfortunate situation a newlywed couple found themselves in. For whatever reason, the wine ran out at their wedding reception: very embarrassing. The presence of an abundance of wine at any banquet was traditionally a symbol of God’s blessings; it’s not something the people of the time would want to start rationing out. Even if the wine was just a symbol,

“Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God.” These words from Isaiah, certainly express something we all desire, especially as we endure another round of Covid lockdowns. At the time of the first reading, most of the people of Jerusalem had been exiled from their land for approximately 60 years by the Babylonians. Isaiah was bringing them good news from God. Their penance would soon be over, and the glory of the Lord would be revealed to all the people. Isaiah told them, there would be a sign, a voice crying out in the wilderness, but they must first, lift up their voices with prayers to God. We hear it often said in the Bible and non-believers say it today, “Where is your God?” Through Isaiah, God is telling the people, “Here is your God”, he is coming with might, and his reward is with him. The forgiveness of our sins, and eternal life.The last time I spoke to you, we talked about John the Baptist preparing the way of the Lord through repentance and forgiveness. Today, we hear that Christ himself was baptized by John the Baptist. The remarkable thing about today’s Gospel and the obvious question is, “Why would Jesus want to be baptized?” Jesus Christ was without sin, so there was no need for repentance or forgiveness. We know at that time, the Israelites were a people whose relationship with God had turned cold. John the Baptist, through his preaching, had become well known throughout the country, and more and more people were coming to him. John, had instilled a large movement back towards God. Now was the perfect time, for Jesus to join the people in this movement that would lead them to the Father. By being baptized, Jesus was again leading by example, showing his human nature, and would now be-one of them. Also, by allowing John to baptize him, Jesus affirmed John’s ministry and identity to the people. After Jesus was baptised, he prayed, and what happened next is truly one of the highlights of the Bible. Heaven was opened, The Holy Spirit descended upon him and the Father spoke to him. This is a very special time, as I believe, this is the first time when the Holy Trinity, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit appeared together. Christ’s baptism, shows us why it makes perfect sense to use the words, “I baptize you in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” as they were all together at Christ’s baptism.

The Father said to Jesus, “You are my son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” The Father is telling Jesus, yes my Son, this is the beginning of your journey and mission, and I am pleased that you have accepted it. This is a joyous time but also a sorrowful time, as Jesus and the Father both know, that this journey–is leading to the cross.Christs’ baptism- was the beginning of His mission and ministry to the people. He now has the approval of the Father to begin his journey, and he was filled with the Holy Spirit, who then leads him to the temptation in the dessert.Our Baptism makes us Christians as we are united with Christ. It frees us from all sin. It makes us adopted brothers and sisters of Christ, and provides us with eternal life and union in the resurrection with Christ to the Father.There is also one thing that really stands out about Christs’ Baptism. When Jesus came to be baptized, he didn’t go to the front of the line. He waited for everyone else to be baptized and then he came to John. So what does this show us? It show us Christ’s humility. He certainly didn’t have to be baptized or let everyone else go before him, but he did. We actually see another act of Humility through John the Baptist himself. When John is asked if he is the Messiah, he replies that he is unworthy to untie the thongs of Christs’ sandals. In those days it was beneath even a slave- to untie their masters’ sandals. John is really putting himself at the bottom of the social structure and showing great respect for his cousin Jesus.Sometimes,

While putting things away after a Mass one day, during my first year as a priest, I noticed an excited group of people in one of the isles of the church. Curious, I started walking towards the group. As I got closer, I noticed that attention was being given to something on the floor. It wasn’t uncommon to find bats hanging around in that old church; so that’s what I first though had captivated the group, but then I overheard an older woman explain how she saw an image of the Sacred Heart in the carpet.

I was eventually able to see for myself the source of excitement and, sure enough, there was a red patch of light on the carpet that was vaguely heart shaped. Now, I instantly knew the cause of the red light, but before I was able to say anything a man explained to the group how the bright red patch was simply caused by sunlight passing through the right piece of glass in a nearby stained-glass window. Of course he was right, most of the group concurred and dispersed; and as the sun moved slightly across the sky, the red patch faded away moments later. The woman who first noticed the red light looked disappointed and gave the impression that she had long hoped to witness a true miracle.

I was about to silently walk away as well, but another woman, who probably also noticed the older woman’s disappointment, offered some words that I later wished I had thought of. She said, “it may not have been a spectacular miracle, but sometimes the Holy Spirit helps us to notice these kinds of things and they become reminders to us of God’s loving presence.” This explanation far surpassed the previous one; it accepted the practical while also respecting the hopes of the older woman and acknowledging our faith that all of creation bears the mark of the creator.

You see, sometimes it’s too easy to stop at the practical: this was the limit of the first explanation for the red light on the floor that day. The practical ignored the whole series of events that led up to the discovery of the older woman. Although they would never know it in this life, the engineers and architects who chose the location of the building, the direction it would face and the placement of the windows, the artisans who arranged the hundreds of pieces of stained glass in each of the windows, the landscapers who chose which tree limbs to remove to ensure that sunlight reached the windows and even the priest who first determined the best time for the daily Mass all contributed to the appearance of a red patch of light on the floor of the church for just a couple of minutes on a few days each year when the sun was at just the right angle. The result was an observance of a small patch of red light by an older woman at just the right moment and the development of a conversation about how God can make use of such things to direct our thoughts to him. Maybe it was all just a huge coincidence or maybe God does use complex events and convergences to reveal himself to us.

Roughly two thousand years ago, a similar thing happened. A group of men, after watching the movements of stars and planets across the sky and considering the cosmic observations made by those who came before them, recognized a message. Of course, the laws of physics describe to us how and why things move, they describe the orbits of planets and explain why, in the sky, we see what we see. But the wise men saw something more than physics.

In the movement of the stars and planets, the wise men saw not just coincidence and patterns, but the delivery of a message to them and to us that began at the moment of creation. For the wise men, the patterns observed in the sky were a complex series of movements that pointed to something much larger: the arrival of a great king, the prince of peace himself. The wise men were not simply practicing a form of astrology,

I’m sure Mary would have preferred to give birth to her son at home. I bet Joseph had used his skills as a carpenter to build the perfect crib for Jesus too, but the parents of Our Lord had to settle for a manger, the animals’ feeding trough, to lay their newborn child. Really, most anywhere would have been a more suitable place to give birth. Just take a look at our nativity scene here, or maybe you have one at home. These scenes look beautiful, but a barn is no place to give birth and certainly falls short of giving Jesus the honour he deserved. In Bethlehem, away from their home and the help of loved ones, Joseph and Mary found themselves in conditions that were far from ideal.

This Christmas, I think of the events that led Mary and Joseph to that place and into that situation. Our Gospel today tells us how the emperor at the time decreed that the people of the Roman Empire be registered. For this, all were required to make a trip to their ancestral home. Some maybe didn’t have to travel far, but for others, like Mary and Joseph, the trip was much longer. There was no choice. To varying degrees, the lives of all were affected by an outside power, the command of the emperor.

Today, I think of how we have all been affected by an outside power too: a pandemic that continues to make all kinds of demands on all. Masks and vaccine mandates, capacity restrictions and social distancing, lockdowns, inflation and fear afflicts us all, creating conditions and situations that are far from ideal. In this time, the limits of optimism are certainly being tested.

Optimism does have limits after-all. Optimism declares that the world will be better if the right leader is elected. It promises happiness with the right job or a padded bank account. Optimism claims that with the right technological developments, legal backing or skillset, the peace we all long for can be attained under our own power. Indeed, we should be optimistic. Optimism has fueled lots of creativity and invention and so much of what we enjoy exists thanks to optimism.

But there are limits to optimism. When our leaders let us down and fail to keep promises, when someone in the hospital fails to heal or a loved one dies, when the new job is cut, prices go up in the grocery store or a tiny virus disrupts almost every part of life, the limits of optimism are tested and sometimes found. Yes, we should be optimistic. But it’s not optimism that gathers us here. Today, we gather in hope.

While hope and optimism share many similarities, there is one big difference: optimism claims that tomorrow will be better thanks to our own power. Hope, on the other hand, says that tomorrow will be better thanks to God’s power. Optimism depends on our success and falls apart . Hope relies completely on the power and love of God.

I think of those shepherds who were first to visit Jesus. Before the angels proclaimed the Good News to the shepherds, things may have looked fairly bleak. They had the worst job possible, a job usually reserved for the lowest member of the family. The pay was poor, working conditions unacceptable and the shepherds probably stank too. There was no union to back them up, so the shepherds were truly at the mercy of many powers. Under their own power, the shepherds had little reason to be optimistic.

But then something new and unexpected happened: something the shepherds would never have imagined or expected. A choir of angels appeared to deliver a message of Good News: God had entered the world to save his people. Their status in the world may have given them little reason to be optimistic, but God gave them every reason to be hopeful.

Hope makes a difference in our world. Inspired by hope, we’re told that the shepherds went with haste to the stable to...

“Rejoice! Rejoice!” This third Sunday of Advent is called Gaudete Sunday, which is Latin for “rejoice.” This is why today we light the rose coloured candle as rose or pink represents Joy. We rejoice in the fact that we are more than halfway through advent, to celebrate Christ’s birth. 

Today’s first reading from the prophet Zephaniah tells us that God is also rejoicing. Godtells the people to “Sing aloud”, because the judgments against Judah and Jerusalem have been turned aside. The Lord is again with them. Zephaniah tells the people the Lord will rejoice over you in gladness as he renews his love for his people. In the last verse, we hear God will be singing loudly as on a day of festival. These words invoke an image of the joy in the hearts of parents as they see the smiling faces of their children at the many Santa Claus parades. The Christmas parties with friends and families, and concerts filled with singing of Christmas carols celebrating Christ’s birth, inspire in us, such great feelings of happiness and togetherness. God truly is celebrating with us the coming of his Son.

In the Gospel, we have John the Baptist speaking to the people who had come to be baptized. Just before this Gospel, John’s message to them was not good news but news that would terrorize most of us. He had just told them, “Every tree that does not bear good fruit will be thrown into the fire.” The people were not sure who John really was, with some wondering if he might be the Messiah. Being fearful, naturally they are concerned and asked, “What are we to do?” John’s answer is twofold. First of all, obey the second greatest commandant, “love your neighbour.” Share with each other, if one has more then they need, share your surplus with someone who is in need. The second was, “Do your job as it should be done.” God has given us the graces to do our job, so there is no need for stealing, bribery, jealousy, or violence, in order to satisfy our desire for more. John was telling us nowhere can we better serve God than in our day’s work. It is our work that provides for our families wellbeing. John tells us not only are our fellow workers watching us, but also God. 

As many of you know I am a Chaplain at a Federal prison. Going back to the original question of the people about what should we do, I would like to tell you about an experience form my ministry work at the prison. Approximately a year ago, I received a request to meet with an inmate, let’s call him Jason. Jason is thirty-eight years old, and has been incarcerated about four years. He is six feet tall, and weighs about two hundred and fifty pounds. It was obvious he liked to work out with weights and you can’t help but notice he has tattoos from head to toe. He pretty much fits the image most people have of a prisoner and not the person you want to meet alone at night. He said to me, “I would like to find out how to become a Catholic.” 

The first thing I asked is “Why, do you want to become a Catholic”. He told me that another inmate who was a catholic, we will call him Dave, has had a big effect on him and that he wanted to be more like this person. This shows us how much our actions can have an impact on other people and how often actions speak louder then words, but I will leave that for another homily. When I asked him to tell me about his life and family, it was typical of many men I have met. He didn’t really know his father, he had been physically and sexually abused, and at age seven his mother decided to give him to his grandparents to raise. Jason admitted, he had become a very angry, violent, nasty individual that he himself really didn’t like. Eventually drugs became a big part of his life and things just got worse.  As I sat with him,