Beloved

(Baptism of the Lord: Isaiah 40:1-11; Titus 2:11 to 3:7; Luke 3:15-22) 

The first Ecumenical Council, held in 325 A.D., stated emphatically that Jesus was the Son of God, “God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God.” The Bishops who gathered at that Council summed up in that way the teaching they had received from their predecessors, based in turn on the preaching of the Apostles and the whole New Testament.

They reflected on texts such as we find in today’s Gospel. The voice from heaven says, “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.” This is only one of many passages that indicate the relation of Jesus to God as his Father.

The Mother of Jesus can therefore be called, according to another Council in 430 A.D., “Mother of God.”

At La Salette she directs our attention to her Son. Even before speaking a word, she shows him to us in the large, dazzlingly bright crucifix she wears on her breast. It bears repeating here that Mélanie and Maximin said that all the light that made up the Apparition seemed to flow from that crucifix. (One could almost say that, in this sense, the Beautiful Lady, too, was “light from Light.”)

But she speaks of her Son as well. “I shall be forced to let go the arm of my Son… Those who drive the carts cannot swear without throwing in my Son’s name.” All together, “my Son” occurs six times in her discourse. She doesn’t say “beloved,” but who could doubt it?

“My people” occurs three times. Again, “beloved” is not used, but who could doubt it?

A striking difference between the Gospel scene and the Apparition, is that the Father is “well pleased” with his beloved Son, whereas Mary came to tell us that her Divine Son was not well pleased with her people. She gave specific examples of things that “make the arm of my Son so heavy,” and described past and future consequences of such behavior.

But at the same time she offered simple, very basic means of remedying the situation. She did not wish to deprive us of hope.

She knew that our sinfulness does not mean we are not beloved. Why else would she have come?

Unveiling the Obvious

(Feast of the Epiphany: Isaiah 60:1-6; Ephesians 3:2-6; Matthew 2:1-12) 

It sometimes happens that we don’t see what is in plain sight, or that we don’t notice what we see every day. It takes another person or some event to make us see it. La Salette is such an event, the Beautiful Lady is such a person.

It’s a bit like the scholars consulted by Herod to find out where the Messiah was to be born. They were experts. You would think they would already know, but they seem to have found the relevant passages quickly enough. But apparently nothing had been farther from their minds than to ask this question. It took the arrival of Magi to point them in that direction. Only then was the veil removed from God’s word, “hidden” in Micah 5:1 and 2 Samuel 5:2.

The Mother of God came to La Salette to reveal, i.e., to “un-veil” what her people should have been seeing all along, namely God’s place in their lives, God’s will for their lives, God’s care for their lives—we might even say, God’s stake in their lives.

Today’s Gospel, and the reading from St. Paul as well, show God extending his salvation beyond the Chosen People, universally. La Salette shows us that, in that process, God never forgets or ignores the “local scene.” Recall the story of the boy Maximin and his father seeing the blighted wheat at the field of Coin, and then sharing bread on their way back home, a scene of no special significance but remembered by Mary just the same.

I often like to say that Our Lady’s concern about wheat and potatoes and bread shows us that what matters to us matters to God. At the same time she calls us to respond in a way that shows that what matters to God matters to us.

“Nations shall walk by your light,” says Isaiah to his people. We, too, individually and collectively, are God’s people, and we can be a light, a star, if you will, by which others can see to find their way to (or back to) God.

Thus, Isaiah’s prophecy, “Then you shall be radiant at what you see, your heart shall throb and overflow,” will continue to be fulfilled. With Mary, we can be part of the unveiling of God’s loving presence, which has been there all along!

La Salette Family

(Feast of the Holy Family: 1 Samuel 1:20-28; 1 John 3:1-2, 21-24; Luke 2:41-52)

Hannah had made a deal with the Lord. If he gave her a son, she would give her son back to the Lord. And so she did. He would minister in the Lord’s house. In becoming a member of Eli’s household, he entered what we might call the Temple family.

In the Scriptures, house and family and similar words are often used and translated interchangeably. Today I would like to reflect on the La Salette family. 

Unlike natural human families, we have not grown up together. On the contrary, we live in different worlds: country, language, culture. There are many things that divide us. What unites us, however, first and foremost, is our love for a Beautiful Lady. We take her words to heart, we try to live by them, we do our part to make them known.

Then there is a ‘La Salette culture,’ which is filtered through our local cultures. For many, it is summed up as Reconciliation; for others, the Weeping Mother, or the invitation to ‘come closer,’ or the challenge to recompense the pains she has taken for us.

Everywhere events, political and otherwise, raise concerns that touch the La Salette heart. For example, who of us can fail to be aware of famine and the death of children, of which Mary spoke, and which is still a reality in many parts of the world. Such things evoke a La Salette response in us, tears first, perhaps, but also a desire to reach out to those who suffer.

Here we can read again the words of St. John: “We should believe in the name of God’s Son, Jesus Christ, and love one another just as he commanded us.” Mary at La Salette leads us to a renewed faith, which in turn, especially through the sacraments, nourishes our love of neighbor.

At the end of the Gospel, we are told that Mary “kept all these things in her heart.” Her coming to La Salette was, precisely, a matter of the heart. Without love, her presence and her message make no sense.

The boy Jesus said, “I must be in my Father’s house.” Members of the La Salette Family who go to the Holy Mountain for the first time, often have the experience of being home. Why not? After all, they are in their Mother’s house.

The Visit

(4^thSunday of Advent: Micah 5:1-4; Hebrews 10:5-10; Luke 1:39-45)

Mary had received great news, two things. First that she was to be the mother of the Messiah. Second, that Elizabeth, an elderly relative, was six months pregnant! Her response was to go, indeed, to hurry to Elizabeth’s home to help her. She who had called herself the handmaid of the Lord, eager to do his will, placed herself also at the service of her kinswoman.

When Mary arrived, her greeting was great news to Elizabeth’s ears, literally a revelation, as she suddenly understood Mary’s place in God’s plan and called her “mother of my Lord.”

At the birth of Elizabeth’s son John, his father Zechariah rejoices that God has “visited” his people, a typically poetic biblical expression to say that God has intervened in his people’s life and history.

Angels visited shepherds with “good news of great joy,” the shepherds visited the Holy Family in the stable, later the Magi, guided by Micah’s prophecy, also found him. 

Through missionaries especially, the Church “visits” many peoples, bringing the great news that we call the Good News of Jesus Christ.

Our Lady of La Salette is often called a “heavenly Visitor.” She “visited her people,” bringing what she called “great news.” The news was not just for the two children to whom she appeared, since she told them—twice—to make this known to all her people.

The children did indeed make it known. Then, in 1852, just six years after the Apparition, the Bishop of Grenoble founded the Missionaries of Our Lady of La Salette for the same purpose, and in 1855 his successor stated clearly that the Church had taken up the mission originally entrusted to the children.

“The Church” means both the Bishops who have the first responsibility to see that the authentic Good News is passed on from one generation to the next, and the Christian faithful who share how both the Gospel and, in the case of the Beautiful Lady, the great news of La Salette, have touched their lives with peace.

Micah says of the Messiah: “He shall be peace.”  Our world sorely needs that Visitor still.

Unafraid

(3rd Sunday of Advent: Zephaniah 3:14-18; Philippians 4:4-7; Luke 3:10-18)

In some respects, the most important words spoken by the Beautiful Lady of La Salette were the first: “Come closer, children, don’t be afraid.” Without these, the rest of her message would never have been heard.

We love such assurances, because we need them. They abound in today’s Scriptures. Zephaniah: “Fear not... be not discouraged.” St. Paul: “Have no anxiety at all.” And our responsorial psalm, which is not from the Book of Psalms but from Isaiah 12: “I am confident and unafraid.”

In the Gospel John the Baptist encourages his listeners to be generous in sharing, to avoid greed, to be honest, to be satisfied with what they have. These are excellent ways to reduce stress and anxiety in life.

But then comes the shock. The Baptist adopts a more ominous tone in preaching about the one who is to come after him. “His winnowing fan is in his hand to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his barn, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

Luke then concludes, “Exhorting them in many other ways, he [John] preached good news to the people.” The Good News is not always pleasant news.

Any public speaker knows that you need to find diverse ways to reach people. The more diverse the audience—adults, teens and children, various cultures or levels of education, etc.—the more difficult that task is. There needs to be something for everyone.

The Blessed Virgin understood this. First she had to establish that she is on our side (“Don’t be afraid... How long a time I have suffered for you...”), and then she was free to say other things her people needed to hear. Some would respond more to her warnings, others to her promises, others again to her tears, or her concern for their well-being.

We often point out that Mary’s “great news” is like the “Good News,” not only in its content but even its style. Both can be demanding, even harsh to certain ears. Both confront us with choices.

None of this means we need to live in fear. Whether the call comes to us from the Scriptures or from La Salette, we can be confident and unafraid.

Remembered by God

(2nd Sunday of Advent: Baruch 5:1-9; Philippians 1:4-11; Luke 3:1-6)

At the end of her Apparition, Our Lady of La Salette rose above the children, as Maximin tried to seize one of the roses around her feet. She seemed to look at the only point on the horizon where one could see beyond the surrounding mountains. 

What made me think of this is a sentence in our first reading: “Stand upon the heights; look to the east and see your children gathered from the east and the west at the word of the Holy One, rejoicing that they are remembered by God.”

I will not claim that Mary was thinking precisely of this text from Baruch but, still, the match is nearly perfect. It was surely just such a vision and hope that inspired her to grace us with her presence.

And there is more. Devoted as we are to the Beautiful Lady, our hearts are attuned to the themes of mourning, glory, peace, worship, mercy and justice, all of which are found in the same reading.

What moves me most powerfully is the image of Jerusalem’s children returning to her, “rejoicing that they are remembered by God.” A similar thought is expressed in Psalm 136:23, “The Lord remembered us in our low estate, for his mercy endures forever.”

A very famous passage from Isaiah 49 says the same, but from a negative perspective. “But Zion said, ‘The Lord has forsaken me; my Lord has forgotten me.’ Can a mother forget her infant, be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you.”

St. Paul writes to the Philippians, “God is my witness, how I long for all of you with the affection of Christ Jesus.” He not only longs to be with them, but he desires every spiritual good for them. The encounter with God is the goal. 

John the Baptist was the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy, sent to prepare God’s people for just such an encounter. Mary at La Salette carries on the same tradition. 

To facilitate the encounter, we need to remove any obstacle that might prevent or even delay it. If we can rejoice that God has remembered us, perhaps then we will never forget him.

Be Vigilant at All Times

(1st Sunday of Advent: Jeremiah 33:14-16; 1 Thess. 3:12-4:2; Luke 21:25-36)

Vigilance is like attention or observation but adds an element of persistence and urgency. When we are vigilant, we are careful not to allow something to escape our notice. We are anxious to see what is coming, whether bad, so as to avoid it, or good, so as to embrace it. 

Beginning twenty verses before today’s text, Jesus predicts various dire events, emphasizing the hardships they will cause. After all that he adds: “When these signs begin to happen, stand erect and raise your heads because your redemption is at hand.”

This turns our expectation on its head. Can the bad be the harbinger of good? Can famine and the other troubles mentioned by Mary at La Salette, for example, actually lead to hope? The answer is yes, if we are vigilant enough to see not only the events, but their meaning.

The people around La Salette were vigilant, to be sure, but the signs they observed concerned the weather and its effects on their agriculture. They knew that famine was coming. But Our Lady points out that they had failed to understand the ‘warning,’ a year earlier, in a blight on the potatoes. “Instead, when you found the potatoes spoiled, you swore, and threw in my Son's name.”

The Day of the Lord can inspire hope or fear, depending on our attitude. In our reading from Jeremiah (a prophet of doom if ever there was one) we find “those days” to be all hope and joy. In 1 Thessalonians, St. Paul comments at length on it: “You yourselves know very well that the day of the Lord will come like a thief at night... Therefore, let us not sleep as the rest do, but let us stay alert and sober” (1 Thess. 5:2,6). 

In our second reading, St. Paul exhorts the Thessalonians, who are conducting themselves to please God, to “do so even more.” 

This too is a form of vigilance. The more intense our relationship with the Lord is, the more we will see what he intends. La Salette points us in that direction. So does the Church in this Advent season. We cannot fail to recognize Christmas when it comes, but we must not miss its deepest meaning.

A Holy House

(Feast of Christ the King: Daniel 7:13-14; Revelation 1:5-8; John 18:33-37)

“Holiness befits your house, O Lord, for length of days,” declares the psalmist. This statement of fact is also a commitment to preserve the holiness of God’s house, especially if we take ‘house’ in the sense of ‘household.’

This calls for integrity, the striving to be what we know we are meant to be as Christians. In Revelation Jesus is called “the faithful witness,” and that is how we see him before Pilate. He declares: “For this I was born and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth.” A true disciple of Christ does the same.

When Our Lady told Mélanie and Maximin to make her message known to “all my people,” they became faithful witnesses. No one was excluded; the children went, as it were, to many nooks and crannies, and spoke to all who would listen.

The truth to which they witnessed was specific, limited to what they had seen and heard in the hills above the village of La Salette: ruined crops, the people’s infidelity, lack of respect for the things of God, as well as the all-important fact that conversion is always possible. The light of faith can enter through the tiniest opening of the heart or mind.

In Daniel’s vision, “The one like a Son of man received dominion, glory, and kingship; all peoples, nations, and languages serve him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion.” 

Mary uses the image of the Arm of her Son as an expression of his dominion, but other parts of her message echo Revelation’s words about Jesus, “who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood, who has made us into a kingdom, priests for his God and Father.” He is Alpha and Omega, beginning and end, seeking out in every time and place those who belong to the truth and hear his voice.

Accepting his dominion is an act of submission—not groveling, but in genuine humility, seeking the remedy to the ills we have brought upon ourselves. He is eager to bless us with peace and make us holy. 

The Beautiful Lady seeks to draw us more completely into the household of God, so that her people can become ever more truly God’s holy People. For holiness befits his house for length of days.

Like the Stars

(33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time: Daniel 12:1-3; Heb. 10:11-18; Mark 13:24-32)

Would you like to be a star? The prophet Daniel tells us how: “Those who lead the many to justice shall be like the stars forever.”

Of course, if we are to lead others to justice, we need to be on that path ourselves. Can we find it on our own? No. The act of trust expressed in the responsorial psalm is our hope, too: “You will show me the path to life.”

This reminds me of the Consecration to Our Lady of La Salette. The prayer concludes by asking her “to enlighten my understanding, to direct my steps, to console me by your maternal protection, so that exempt from all error, sheltered from every danger of sin, strengthened against my enemies, I may, with ardor and invincible courage, walk in the paths traced out for me by you and your Son.” 

Mary’s purpose in coming to La Salette is beautifully summed up in this prayer. Many pilgrims to the Holy Mountain express the same thought through the symbolic gesture of literally following the path taken by the Beautiful Lady from where the children first saw her to where she stood and spoke to them, and then to where she wound her way up the steep hillside to the spot where she rose in the air and disappeared from sight.

Like drinking the water of the miraculous fountain, this prayerful physical movement is a commitment to living by the light of La Salette, which simply reflects light of the Gospel.

Looking at today’s Gospel, one might be inclined to compare the apocalyptic description of the end time to the prophetic warnings of Our Lady of La Salette. That is not incorrect, but we must extend the comparison further. The hope Mary offers—not only of future abundance but also of her watchful care—is in keeping with Jesus’ promise that he will “send out the angels and gather his elect from the four winds.”

Being his elect does not mean we are perfect. If we ever are perfect it will be the Lord’s doing, “for by one offering he has made perfect forever those who are being consecrated.”

The same God who made the stars in the heavens, can make stars on earth. We call them saints.

Sacrifice

(32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time: 1 Kings 17:10-16; Heb. 9:24-28; Mark 12:38-44)

The life of a widow was hard. 1 Timothy 5 offers a series of precepts for the care of widows; Exodus 22:21 reads, “You shall not wrong any widow or orphan.”

The poor widow of today’s Gospel, like many people of her day, was probably paid daily for whatever work she could find. But, instead of putting aside what little she could, she chose on this occasion to put all she had, a pittance compared to what others gave, into the temple treasury.

If she had not done so, her contribution would never have been missed. And yet it is famous, because it was noticed, praised by Jesus himself. He did not draw a moral, and so we are free to draw our own. At the very least it means that whatever we do out of a generous faith has meaning for God.

In our second reading we read that Jesus, by his sacrifice, took away the sins of many. Had it not been for the resurrection, his sacrifice on the cross might have gone unnoticed by history. Unfortunately, over time, in many parts of the Christian world, its importance came to be taken for granted, if not forgotten.

In 1846, she who had stood at the foot of the cross came to a mountain in France. Two innocent children were given a message to remind their people—her people—how far they had strayed, how little they understood the worth of what was accomplished for them by her Son, who was “offered once to take away the sins of many, [and] will appear a second time, not to take away sin but to bring salvation to those who eagerly await him.”

Recently I read one of the great Christian classics, John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress. A pilgrim named Christiana, on learning of Jesus’ sacrifice and the forgiveness it brings, exclaims: “Methinks it makes my heart bleed to think that he should bleed for me. O thou loving One! O thou blessed One! Thou deservest to have me; Thou hast bought me. Thou deservest to have me all; Thou hast paid for me ten thousand times more than I am worth.”

Indeed, we can never truly repay the price paid for us. Our first response may be regret, but then comes gratitude, and then the desire to give what we can in return, no matter how great, no matter how small.