Homily

I must confess that yesterday I experienced a little bit of anxiety because of the weather, and I have been thinking about why that happened, and wondering why it is. I suppose there are a number of elements to it. The ice and snow make travel difficult so that cuts into my freedom to just get up and go and do whatever it is that I want to do, when I want to do it. It limits my freedom, so I don’t like it. Then I am thinking about how it will affect people coming to Liturgy this morning and wondering how many will come, or perhaps better to say how many will be able to come. How many Communions will I need to prepare for, what about the coffee social and who will take care of that? And then there are the safety issues of people trying to drive or walk on the icy roads and the frozen sidewalks. And then I am supposed to be at the airport early tomorrow, so will this weathery mess be finished by then nor not?

There is nothing necessarily sinful about feeling anxious, or nervous. These are emotions, reactions to people and events and situations or to things that might happen. So, there is not necessarily any sin in being nervous or uneasy, or even sometimes a little afraid, or even very much afraid of what the future might bring. As emotional responses to life we may not have a great deal of control over such emotions, even though, at the same time, we should do our best to try and keep them under control and never allow them to overrule our rational mind, our decisions and our choices. Yet I believe they can teach us something about ourselves.

So I was thinking yesterday: what is it? Why am I feeling a little bit anxious? It called to mind the situation of the people mentioned in today’s Gospel, the pagan people living in Galilee. “The people sitting in darkness” because they have no light about the truth of God or the truth of their lives in this world. They live, for better or for worse, according to how they see fit, without any reliable guidance to know what is definitely good and what is definitely bad. They have their consciences to guide them, but without the full truth that comes from on high, conscience can only help us to a limited degree. Without Christ they cannot see the full revelation of the God Who Is and His desire for them, and for us, to live good and holy lives, not only in this world but in the life after this world.

With the coming of Jesus this revelation of God in the Flesh will bring the light of salvation to the Gentiles of Galilee, just as it brings the same light to us who were baptized into Christ. The darkness they were sitting in will be cast out by the light of Christ, if they accept His words and are willing to believe and follow.

I have been called out of darkness too. I have been called to live in faith and accept the words of the Gospel and be nourished by the grace of Christ. But when I experience a little anxiety, or fearfulness, or uneasiness I think it should make me pause and think—think about the truth that I still have a long way to go in faithfulness and trusting in God. When the normal routine is disturbed by things like ice and snow and the expected, normal course of events turns into a time of some uncertainty, how comfortable can I be with that? How accepting can I be with this undesirable situation? Shouldn’t my faith remind me that God is in charge of all things and even in charge of me if I am willing to put myself into His hands.

How to do that? By following the message of Jesus: “Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is near.” Repent: re-think, reflect, turn around, re-commit, look again, re-choose and see your life the way the Lord wants to see you live. He never desires our downfall but only that we grow and thrive in His love, which love we then share with one another. So even after so many years there is still a reluctance on my part to embrace a deeper faith and turn more closely to the Lord. I apologize to all of you that you had to suffer this weather so that I could reflect on my weakness of faith. Thanks for putting up with me.

It's easy to think I’m doing a good job as a follower of Christ, and even as a priest, and not feeling an urgency to take stock when the days pass with the normal routines as they are supposed to. Yet it seems that even a little ice and snow can be helpful as guides to a deeper thinking about a deeper faith.