Ash Wednesday is the first day of Lent and always falls forty-six days before Easter. Ash Wednesday comes from the ancient Jewish tradition of penance and fasting. The practice includes the wearing of ashes on the head. The ashes symbolize the dust from which God made us.

From Biblical times, sprinkling oneself with ashes has been a mark of sorrow for sin. Several times the Bible mentions people repenting in dust and ashes; for example: Mordecai (Esther 4:1), Job (Job 42:6), the inhabitants of Nineveh (Jonah 3:5-6), and Daniel (Daniel 9:3-4). Following the example of the Ninevites, who did penance in sackcloth and ashes, our foreheads are marked with ashes to humble our hearts and reminds us that life passes away on Earth. Repentance in dust and ashes often was accompanied with fasting during Bible times.

As the priest applies the ashes to a person's forehead, he speaks the words: "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return." Alternatively, the priest may speak the words, "Repent and believe in the Gospel." Ashes also symbolize grief, in this case, grief that we have sinned and caused division from God. Writings from the Second-century Church refer to the wearing of ashes as a sign of penance.

We are reminded that we are creatures and that our lives were given to us. But we are also reminded that our lasting home is in eternity, with God. This is not our lasting home. We are reminded that our call is to turn away from sin and to believe the Good News of our salvation in Jesus. This is a joyful reminder. It challenges us, for sure, but reminds us of why we want to turn from sin.

It is important to remember that Ash Wednesday is a day of penitential prayer and fasting. Church use this service to prepare church members to better appreciate the death and resurrection of Christ through self-examination, repentance, prayer, fasting, and self-denial. Besides showing sorrow for their sins. Ashes are a symbol of penance made sacramental by the blessing of the Church, and they help us develop a spirit of humility and sacrifice.

Finally, we wear our ashes as a sign. It is not a boastful sign through which I say, "Look at me and see how holy I am." No, it is much more like, "I'm willing to wear this sign in the world and say that I've been reminded of where I come from and where I am going. And, I've heard the call to turn away from a life of sin and to give my life to living the Gospel of Jesus." And, occasionally, in this world which is too often caught up in the denial of death, I might be required to answer the question, "What's with the smudge on your forehead?"

Yet even now, says the LORD, return to me with your whole heart, with fasting, and weeping, and mourning; Rend your hearts, not your garments, and return to the LORD, your God. For gracious and merciful is he, slow to anger, rich in kindness, and relenting in punishment. - Joel 2:12-13

Fr. Antonius David Tristianto, O.Carm.

In today's world, we can all use help with our prayer life, and the leper in today's Gospel passage gives it to us. He reminds us of two key elements in a healthy life of prayer: confidence and humility.

The first thing to note is that this leper has no doubt that Christ can cure him. He says to the Lord, "If you wish, you can make me clean." It's hard for us to have so much confidence. Our secular culture is constantly sidelining God.

This tends to make us think that we can solve all our problems ourselves, through science, technology, or hard work. But if we think that, then we don't really have faith in God; if God is irrelevant, he's not much of a God, after all. But the leper didn't live in a secular culture; he lived in a religious culture, one that recognized the reality of sin and evil, and the need of God's grace to overcome them. And so he came out of his isolated and self-destructive bubble of self-sufficiency and exercised his faith.

The second thing to note is that the leper also recognizes that he has no right to demand a cure. He doesn't act like a spoiled child and say, "Cure me!" he says, "If you wish..."

It's as if he were saying, "You know what's best; if curing me will give you glory, please do so, but if not, I will still believe and trust in you." Only the humble heart can tap into the roaring stream of mercy that flows from Christ's Sacred Heart, mercy which not only cured the leprosy, but touched the leper, something no one else had done since the disease began.

If our prayer weaves together confidence and humility, God will be able to do wonders in us as well.

Three Ways to Grow in Confidence and Humility

We cannot have a mature and effective life of prayer without growing in these key areas of confidence in God and humility.

How can we do that?

There is no pill or surgical operation that can finish it once and for all - that's not how spiritual growth happens. Instead, we need to regularly and intelligently exercise whatever humility and confidence we already have (and all of us have some - they both were given to us in baptism).

All virtues grow through exercise, like muscles. And of course, exercise is at least sometimes demanding and uncomfortable. This is why regular exercise requires a decision of the will, an act of self-governance.

Here are three ways to exercise humility and confidence in God; let's each choose one of them to focus on this week.

First, the sacrament of confession.

This is the best exercise, because it was invented by God himself. Confession is a perfect mirror of this leper's transforming encounter with Christ. Think about it: everything the leper did, we do every time we go to confession.

Second, writing a thank-you note to God at the end of every day.

By focusing in on the amazing gifts he gives us every single day - life, opportunities, friendships, grace - we put everything else in proper perspective. Gratitude reminds us of God's unbounded goodness, and of our childlike dependence on him.

Third, by being the first one to say we're sorry.

Interpersonal conflicts are almost always the fault of both people involved, at least a little bit. When we take the first step to make peace, we are following in the footsteps of Christ himself.

Whichever exercise we choose for this week, Jesus will help us with it - that's why he is coming among us again through the sacrifice of this Mass.

This question refers to Jesus' teaching found in the Gospel of St. Matthew, when He said, "Do not call anyone on earth your father. Only one is your father, the One in heaven" (23:9).

Taken literally, we would have to wonder why we do use the title "Father" when Jesus seems to forbid it. First, we must remember the context of the passage. Jesus is addressing the hypocrisy of the scribes and the Pharisees—the learned religious leaders of Judaism. Basically, the scribes and Pharisees had forgotten that they were called to serve the Lord and those entrusted to their care with humility and generous spirit.

Since the earliest times of our Church, we have used the title "Father" for religious leaders. Bishops, who are the shepherds of the local Church community and the authentic teachers of the faith, were given the title "Father." Actually, until about the year 400, a bishop was called "papa" for Father; this title was then restricted solely to addressing the Bishop of Rome, the successor of St. Peter, and in English was rendered "pope."

In an early form of his rule, St. Benedict (d. c. 547) designated the title to spiritual confessors, since they were the guardians of souls. Moreover, the word "abbot," denoting the leader in faith of the monastic community, is derived from the word abba, the Aramaic Hebrew word for father, but in the very familiar sense of "daddy."

Later, in the Middle Ages, the term "father" was used to address the mendicant friars—like the Franciscans and Dominicans—since by their preaching, teaching and charitable works they cared for the spiritual and physical needs of all of God's children. In more modern times, the heads of male religious communities, or even those who participate in ecumenical councils such as Vatican II, are given the title "father." In the English-speaking world, addressing all priests as "Father" has become customary.

We must recognize that on the realm of faith, a relationship between the priest and the faithful is established that allows for the reality of fatherhood to be applied to the priest. The father figure is related to the origin of life, its defense, its protection and the vigilant presence that instills in us confidence. God is our Father and all life comes from him; his providence looks after us and his presence makes us feel safe. Thus, Jesus taught us to call him "Father." God is Father not only because he is the origin of our earthly life, but also because he is the one who gives us eternal and divine life. Every single one of our cells is deeply connected to, and depends on, him.

But God wanted to affiliate his fatherhood with those who share in his Son's priesthood; for the life of grace, the Communion that upholds us in life and the prayer that defends us from evil are all given to us through their ministry. The priest, as father, teaches us the faith, forgives us when we fail and blesses us like a father and like God, our Father. We receive from the priest the apostolic faith, the sacraments, supernatural life. He is not the source, but the channel.

"Father" is one of kindest words in our vocabulary. We use it to refer to God wholeheartedly. We use it with our father wholeheartedly. If you use it for a priest, do so from the faith: God is our Father, but this man represents him in my life and gives me supernatural life, feeds me with the Eucharist and helps me experience God's care.

Fr. Antonius David Tristianto, O.Carm.

Our church is open from 7:00 am to 7:00 PM.

Adoration is from 9:00-10:00 AM on Monday – Saturday; 10:00 AM - 12:00 noon on Sunday.

Administration of Holy Communion: 10:00 AM (Monday - Saturday), 12:00 noon (Sunday):
Administration of Holy Communion to those faithful having prayerfully united themselves to the online Mass, or having read and meditated on the Scripture and liturgical texts, or having adored the Blessed Sacrament, and are properly disposed. 

Parishioners must comply with epidemic prevention measures, including keeping proper social distance.  Please do not gather in our church after having received Holy Communion. 

Simon Peter and the other disciples come to him the morning after a day like none they had ever known before.

Christ's popularity was at a zenith. His preaching was a huge success. He dramatically expelled a demon right in the middle of the synagogue. And he had spent the entire evening of the Sabbath working miraculous cures and amazing exorcisms.

The next morning, his disciples must have been wild with excitement. They may have even thought that Jesus would claim the Messianic kingship right away and gather an army to cast off the despicable Roman occupiers. And so, when they awoke to find him gone from the house, and a growing crowd of towns people clamoring to see him, they were confused.

They frantically organized a search party and scour the area. But when they find him, alone in prayer on the mountaintop, and they tell him that everyone is looking for him, Christ's answer is surprising.

He tells them it's time to move on, that his mission isn't to maximize his popularity, but to preach the gospel to all of Israel - this is what his Father sent him to do, and no opportunity for mere personal glory will distract him from it.

This was the first installment of a lesson that Jesus would teach over and over, by words and actions: he is not a political figure looking to climb the ladder of success; he is a servant and a messenger, a man for others.

In a world that tends to idolize "success" and "achievement," where great souls are withered by the rat race of petty promotions and vaporous rewards, the selfless, transcendent purpose of a man entirely focused on fulfilling someone else's plan (i.e., God's), is like a bright star shining in the darkness.

Letting Christ Love Us

This truth of our faith, this fact of Christ's being a man for others, has a direct impact on our personal relationship with him.

It means that Christ is "for" each one of us. It means that he is always thinking of us, always guiding us, always walking with us, always at our side.

As beautiful as this truth is, it can also be hard for us to accept. Our modern society is built on individualism, the idea that each person is self-sufficient, able to achieve happiness and fulfillment through their own efforts. Because of this, depending on others, is often seen as a sign of weakness.

This individualistic attitude is embedded in our TV shows, movies, music, advertisements - we are surrounded by it. And as a result, it seeps into our relationship with Christ too.

We sometimes think that we should be able to make ourselves perfect and holy, and then we will present ourselves to Christ to earn a reward. But if that were the case, Jesus would never have come to earth in the first place.

He wouldn't have given us the Church and the sacraments. He wouldn't have died on a cross to show us the limitlessness of his love. Christ is a man for others, because he knows that all of us need a Savior. It is not a sign of weakness or failure to let ourselves be loved and guided by God - it is the surest sign of wisdom.

Today, as Jesus gives himself to us again in this holy Mass, let's thank him for wanting to stay so close to us, and let's let him touch even the most hidden corners of our hearts, because they are the ones that need his light the most.

Catholics have a long tradition of using statues in the churches, because thousands of years ago, people were not able to read and write. The average person could not read and understand the stories in the bible for themselves. Therefore, the church used statues, paintings and stained-glass windows to visually portray the stories in the bible and show what people from that time period may have looked like. The stained-glass windows in a church often depicted the stories from Jesus' life visually, so that everyone, including little children, could understand who Jesus was. Visual art and depictions are generally more accessible and more easily understood compared to written texts hence these became effective mediums of instructions.

Catholics use statues, paintings and other artistic creations and artifacts to bring to mind the person or thing that is being represented in them. Some of us like looking at photographs of our mothers to remember her and the different memories we have together. In the same way, it helps us bring to mind the image of Jesus Christ and the saints and their deeds when we look at images that depict them. Jesus, Mary and the saints are no different than any other important public figures in our world today. Catholics have statues of Jesus, Mary and the saints in our churches, to honor them and preserve their memory, just like our nation does with statues of presidents and war heroes.

Statues of Jesus, Mary and the saints are ways that Catholics honor and preserve their memory, through visual means in our everyday life. Remember the expression, "out of sight, out of mind?" As Catholics, we never want Jesus, and Mary, and the example of the saints to be out of sight or out of mind, but be forever enduring in our hearts, and in our everyday lives.

A statue, or any image, can evoke emotions, feelings, and meaning not easily captured in words. This is another way in which sacred art adds a powerful dimension to prayer. Looking at a statue can bring your mind back to your prayer and meditation if your attention wanders. It can keep you engaged and nurture your prayer life, especially if you have a hard time quieting your mind to settle into prayer.

The Catechism provides clear instruction on what we believe when we display and venerate holy statues:

In the Old Testament, God ordained or permitted the making of images that pointed symbolically toward salvation by the incarnate Word: so it was with the bronze serpent, the ark of the covenant, and the cherubim. (The Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2130)

Christian veneration of images is not contrary to the first commandment which proscribes idols. Indeed, "the honor rendered to an image passes to its prototype," and "whoever venerates an image venerates the person portrayed in it." The honor paid to sacred images is a "respectful veneration," not the adoration due to God alone. (The Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2132)

We are physical beings with five senses given to us by God, and we worship with our whole person. Many elements of our Catholic faith reflect that understanding. Ours is a faith in which visible and tangible realities reflect the Divine.

The physical reality of a statue reminds us of the very real mystery it represents. A statue itself is merely a point of reference—one that allows us to meditate on and contemplate the mysteries of God more easily. It is a representation of a heavenly reality, reminding us of the eternal destiny to which we are called.

Fr. Antonius David Tristianto, O.Carm. 

Already in the first chapter of St Mark's Gospel we are witnessing a dramatic encounter between Christ and the devil. The devil makes his appearance through one of his slaves, a demon who has taken possession of a child of God.

When Jesus, the Savior of sinners and conqueror of evil, approaches this possessed man, the demon cries out in panic and desperation. Jesus silences the demonic and frees the possessed man.

The devil is not a fashionable topic for those of us who live in the post-modern world. Yet, the story of Christ's life and ministry simply cannot be told without referring to the devil.

The Apostle John, in his First Letter (4:8), actually sums up Jesus' mission with the following words: "The reason the Son of God appeared was to destroy the works of the devil."

The Gospel writers carefully distinguish between cases of mere physical sickness and cases of a demonic character (both of which Jesus cures). Jesus frequently refers to the devil in his parables and other teachings, and the devil himself tempts Jesus in the desert and returns again later to engineer Judas' betrayal (cf. John 13:2).

This Gospel theme teaches us an undeniable, if uncomfortable lesson: the devil is real, and he is interested in sabotaging the work of grace.

The devil is a fallen angel, an angel who was created good by God but then rebelled against God and took many of his fellow angels with him in that rebellion. And now they try to convince us, human beings, to rebel against God, too.

This basic spiritual truth is a huge comfort. It helps us make sense of all the unpleasant influences at work in and around us - we are not crazy; we are not failures; we are simply engaged in a spiritual battle.

Here's how the Catechism explains it (#414): "Satan or the devil and the other demons are fallen angels who have freely refused to serve God and his plan. Their choice against God is definitive. They try to associate man in their revolt against God."

A beautiful reflection from the Carmelite Nuns of the Diocese of Lafayette on the mystery of St. Joseph in light of this special Year of St. Joseph:

"It seems that the Church and our Diocese have given us new lenses to view this wondrous Mystery of the Word become Flesh by asking us to focus on St. Joseph! What wonders we find when we see St. Joseph as the man from all ages and all generations who would most and best reflect and represent His Father! What must it have been for Him who dwelt in the bosom of His Father to be in the arms of St. Joseph.What divine exchanges when the Infant first opened His eyes and saw the Father's delight shining in the eyes of St. Joseph!

Our Father's First and greatest Commandment to love Him with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength was the very life of St. Joseph. His heart was a total offering to our Father - so much so that he would sacrifice his beloved spouse, our Lady, if that was asked for – in that line of the Faith of Abraham who did not withhold his only son if our Father asked it of him.

With His whole soul, St. Joseph lived in the Presence of the Father, Yahweh, in constant prayer and longing for all the Promises to be fulfilled – never for a moment thinking that he had such an immense role to fulfill in that Plan hidden from all ages but revealed to him in this blessed night when the Promise became Flesh and was placed in His arms by Our Lady.

With his whole mind, St. Joseph recalled the Scripture and lived in the blessed Hope of being a faithful servant, a just and righteous man in our Father's sight so much so that all was ordered to that end. His mind-memory was set solely on obeying the Scriptures which revealed the Father's Will and Plan for each of us.

In Silence and Hope will your strength be and we know that Joseph was Silent and reserved all His strength to serve our Father not with that sound of words but with the silence of actions. All the strength he reserved and preserved were stored up for all he had to do to protect Our Lady and the Divine Child. May our hearts over-flow with love, joy, praise, and thanksgiving to St. Joseph for accepting his role in this greatest and sweetest of Mysteries and for being for us the marvelous reflection of our heavenly Father! Though St. Joseph was silent, let us thank him for giving to the Infant His Name that is above every other Name – Jesus!"

Source  http://bit.ly/3a27KvC

Jesus' first words in Mark's Gospel are mysterious. He tells us: "This is the time of fulfillment." What does this mean? It means that when Jesus Christ came onto the scene, it was a turning point in the history of the world. This is because Jesus ushers in the third age of human history.

The first age was the era of creation. During this period, mankind lived in the fullness of communion with God.

It was when Adam and Eve lived in paradise and in unspoiled friendship with God. This ended with original sin and the subsequent fall from grace: evil entered the world.

Then the second age began, the age of the Promise. God promised Adam and Eve that he would send a Savior to free the human family from domination by the devil (Cf. Genesis 3:15).

In this second age God gradually prepared the world, through the education of his chosen people, Israel, for the arrival of Jesus Christ.

With him, the third age began, the "time of fulfillment," fulfillment of the promise of salvation. In this age, the Christian age, God actually entered into time and space in order to rescue it from sin and destruction.

He did so at first through the Incarnation, and he continues to do so through the activity of the Church, which is gradually expanding into every corner of the globe. At the end of this third age, Christ will come again, ushering in the fourth and final age, the age of glory, when evil, death, and sorrow will be banished from his Kingdom forever.

If we see things from the perspective of these four stages of history, it fills us with wisdom, interior peace, and a sense of purpose, because things make sense. But do we look at things this way?

Renewing Our Friendship with Christ (linked to Gospel)

The most exciting aspect of the Christian view of history is that Christ is constantly inviting us to take part in it.

What happened in today's Gospel passage happens to each one of us throughout our lives. Peter, Andrew, James, and John were all living their normal lives, working to keep food on the table.

By all external signs, they were indistinguishable from any of their contemporaries. But then one day Jesus Christ walked into their midst and called them each by name.

Jesus didn't see them as average people, generic fishermen. Jesus saw each one in the revealing light of God's love. He knew that he had created them for an active role in his plan to redeem the human race and conquer the forces of sin and evil.

And just as he invited each one of them to join his team and share his mission, so he does with us. Some of us he calls to leave behind our nets, boats, and even our families, so that we can serve the Church full time, as special agents, as priests, religious, and missionaries.

Others he calls to be his ambassadors in the middle of our normal family and work life, redeeming the world from within, like leaven in the dough. But either way, he calls each one of us.

Today he will renew his call when he offers himself to us in the Eucharist.

By reminding us today of the true course of human history, he has motivated us to renew our response to that call in our hearts, to let our friendship with him truly become the most important thing for us, more important than our plans, pleasures, hopes, and comfort, because all those things are just part of the "world in its present form," which is "passing away."

The sign of the cross came down to us from very early Christianity with nothing clear as who started it. However, here are some facts regarding its practice among early Christians.

Tertullian, a Carthegenian, was the first Christian author to write in Latin. His surviving works dated from 196 AD to 212. Regarding the sign of the cross, he wrote: "Wherever we go, in getting out or coming in; when we put on our clothes or our shoes; whether we eat or we prepare to go to bed or whatever we do, we sign ourselves with sign of the cross."

St Ephraem who died sometime in 373 AD, was the only Syrian Doctor of the Church. About the sign of the Cross, St Ephraem wrote: "My son, see to it that whatever you do, your work is marked by the life-giving sign of the Cross. Never forget this, whether you eat or drink, or when you go to sleep; whether at home or when you are in a journey. There is no better behavior to compare with this. make this as a protection in all that you do. And teach this to your children that, they too would learn of it." This is fundamental to early Christians.

St Paul wrote to the Galatians: "But God forbid that I should glory save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ". (Gal 6:14) Of course this means Christ's sufferings. But we cross ourselves to remind ourselves of the sufferings of Jesus. There are even some who say that the sign of the cross is hinted in Revelation as "the seal of the living God" (5:2) or "his Father's name written on their forehead" (14:1) or even the mark of salvation in Ezekiel 9:4, as the sign of the Cross is used in baptism, the sacrament of invitation to Christianity.

The sign of the cross, in words and in action, reminds us of the two central realities of our faith: who God is (the Trinity) and what God has done for us (the Cross). These are the core of why Catholics do the sign of the cross.

From the earliest days of the Church, Christians understood that the cross of Christ has great power. Even the sign of the cross is powerful because it is a reminder of the instrument Jesus used to defeat Satan. Tertullian recommended that the faithful mark themselves with the sign of the cross at all times because of its power in bringing Jesus' sacrifice into their daily lives.

St. Cyril of Jerusalem expresses the power of the Cross very well: "Be the Cross our seal made with boldness by our fingers on our brow, and on everything; over the bread we eat, and the cups we drink; in our comings in, and goings out; before our sleep, when we lie down and when we rise up; when we are in the way, and when we are still. … It is the Sign of the faithful, and the dread of devils… for when they see the Cross they are reminded of the Crucified; they are afraid of Him, who bruised the heads of the dragon." (Catechetical Lecture 13)

The sign of the cross is a powerful way of making us mindful of the Trinity and inviting God into our prayer and into our daily lives. It brings the power of Christ's cross to us and can be a powerful help against temptation and an excellent way of reminding us of the great things Jesus has done for us. Pray the sign of the cross often and be mindful of what it means in the life of the Church and in your own life!

Fr. Antonius David Tristianto, O.Carm.

Today's readings teach us that the Lord not only calls us to help him in his mission but also appeals to something greater.

In today's First Reading Samuel, with Eli's help, gradually realizes that the Lord is calling him to be his prophet. Samuel's mother was so grateful for having him after entreating the Lord to bless her with a child that she entrusts him to the Lord in the Temple.

Samuel is precious in the Lord's eyes too, and the Lord starts calling him, but Samuel is too young and inexperienced to understand what is going on.

He turns to the priest Eli and, at first, Eli doesn't understand what is going on either. We can imagine him groggily sending Samuel away the first time, then perplexed when the boy returns a second time. His advice to Samuel on the second occasion is good advice for any situation: listen to the Lord and tell him his (or her) servant is listening.

Today's readings conclude by saying no word of Samuel's was "without effect" for the rest of his life. That was because Samuel became the Lord's prophet. The Word of God has an effect, whether we accept it or not.

Paul in today's Second Reading reminds us that, in Christ, we are already part of something greater, and what we do or don't do influences more than just ourselves:

Through Baptism we are joined with Christ and our fellow believers in a communion of life and love. Our sins not only have repercussions on ourselves but on everyone with whom we are in communion.

They hurt Our Lord, and they hurt our fellow believers. Is serious enough they can even break that communion.

However, on the flip side, the good we do not only helps Our Lord but others as well. We are members of the Mystical Body of Christ, so what we do is for the good or ill of the entire body.

We are also temples of the Holy Spirit. We bear something precious in us that must be cherished and nurtured.

In today's Gospel two disciples of the prophet John the Baptist, at his encouragement, check out a Rabbi (a.k.a. the Lamb of God) and become not only his disciples, but his friends, and must share the good news.

Two disciples of a prophet go looking for a Rabbi and find not only a Rabbi but a friend and much more. Andrew and the "other disciple," whom we presume to be John the Evangelist, don't start grilling Our Lord when they meet him. Rather, they want to hang out with him. They don't address him as the "Lamb of God" as John the Baptist did, just as "Rabbi," an expression of respect and an acknowledgment that he has something to teach them.

He doesn't try to impose and preconceived notions on them in response; he merely says, "come and see." It is not just learning from him, but living with him. Andrew, as the Gospel recalls, "heard John and followed Jesus." If he hadn't listened to John, he would not have found Jesus either.

In following Jesus, Andrew discovers that he has met the Messiah, and that's not something he can keep to himself, so he shares it with his brother, Simon.

The minute Jesus meets Simon he gives him a nickname—Cephas—and from that friendship a great mission would soon be born. Cephas—Peter—would not undertake that mission alone; he would follow Christ and share in his mission. 

Confession is a sacrament instituted by Jesus Christ providing a means for those who fall into sin after Baptism to be restored into God's grace. It involves the admission of one's sins made to a duly approved Priest in order to obtain absolution.

Confession is called the "sacrament of Penance" as:

• the recipient must be truly repentant of his sins,
• be determined to try to avoid this sin in the future, and
• be willing to make reparations as appropriate with any/all injured parties.

Only God can forgive sin. The sacrament of Penance is the way which God has chosen to administer that forgiveness. Jesus exercised the power to forgive sins "that you may know that the Son of man has authority on earth to forgive sins" (Mt 9:6). And Jesus to the Apostles in Jn 20:21-23 reads: "... As the Father has sent Me, so I send you. And when He had said this, He breathed on them and said to them: 'Receive the Holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained." Note that this power bestowed upon the Apostles is different than the power previously given Peter of binding and loosing, which is the broad power in matters of faith and morals; this power is specific to sin. Knowing that the Apostles, mere men, were incapable of handling such a responsibility on their own power, Jesus Christ gave them a special communication with the Holy Spirit (pneuma) for this special work. In all of the Bible, there are only two instances where God breathed on man, the other was when He gave man a living soul in Gen 2:7 - thus emphasizing the importance of the sacrament of Penance. And as this power was bestowed upon the Apostles, it was to be inherited by their successors, continuing His presence throughout time (Mt 28:19-20). Yes, Jesus is the one Mediator, but that does not deny Him from choosing others to assist Him in his work.

The Apostles certainly understood what Jesus Christ had commissioned them to do. Paul, in the name of Jesus, exercised the power of binding and loosing from sin and the effects of sin in the case of the incestuous Corinthian. In 1 Cor 5:3, Paul says: "I have already judged him that hath done so"; and in 2 Cor 2:10, Paul justifies his forgiveness of the repentant man by saying "If I have pardoned anything, I have done it in the person of Christ". Further, in 2 Cor 5:18, Paul writes: "All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation". And in 2 Cor 5:20, Paul confirms "So we are ambassadors for Christ."

One Mediator redeemed us, Jesus Christ. The Catholic Priest, in the sacrament of Penance, does not redeem us; he is but an agent of the one Mediator, assigned and empowered by the one Mediator. Confession is but one way of applying the mediation of Christ to men.

Fr. Antonius David Tristianto, O.Carm.

Jesus already knew that he was the Father's "beloved son" on whom the Father's "favor rests."

The voice from heaven that announced this, therefore, did so for our benefit, not for his.

Few times in the New Testament does God's voice speak from heaven, and each time it does, it says the same thing, it reiterates that Jesus is the chosen one, the beloved, and we are to heed him.

Among the many lessons hidden in those few words is the one that teaches us what pleases God. Up to this point in his earthly life, Jesus had done nothing extraordinary: no miracles, no great speeches, no massive conversions.

He had spent thirty years living in a hut in Nazareth, helping his foster-dad in the carpentry shop and doing chores and errands for his mother. And yet, the Father's favor rests on him, the Father is well pleased with him. Why? Because Jesus has been doing what God asked him to do, and doing it with love.

We don't need to try and impress God with our shocking sacrifices, brilliant personality, and earth-shaking accomplishments. All he desires from us is a heart centered on him, seeking to do his will.

What God wants from us is our friendship; everything else is secondary. And that friendship happens as we know, love, and follow Jesus Christ by doing and accepting all that he asks of us.

God's will: nothing more, nothing less, nothing else - when we make that our motto, just as it was for Christ, we too fulfill our vocation of being "beloved children" of the Father, on whom his "favor rests."

And when we fulfill our vocation, we find the peace, wisdom, and lasting excitement (God's blessings) that make life worth living in the first place.

Drawing Strength from God's Love

God is easy to please, and we really need to feel his pleasure. We were created to love and to be loved, to know that we are loved and appreciated just for who we are.

This is one of the deepest needs of every human heart: to experience unconditional acceptance. But in the fallen world even the most intimate and natural relationships often don't provide that.

And so, sometimes a parent's love is tainted with subconscious, selfish expectations. When we don't achieve what they want us to achieve, they feel disappointed in themselves, and they express it by showing disappointment in us.

And sometimes a spouse stops allowing room for intimacy with their husband or wife. In their own fear of being rejected, they end up subtly rejecting the one they should cherish and seeking satisfaction in less risky substitutes.

But God's grace can fix even those relationships, because God will never reject us; God will never unconsciously make his appreciation for us depend on our achievements; his love strengthens our love.

God is the perfect Father, and the perfect Friend and Companion; he gives without counting the cost.

This is why he tells us in today's First Reading: "All you who are thirsty, come to the water! You who have no money, come, receive grain and eat; come, without paying and without cost, drink wine and milk!"

How do we come to him? By obeying his Church's teaching; By spending time alone with him each day in prayer; By regular use of the sacraments, especially the Eucharist and confession.

Which one of those three can we improve this week?

As Jesus comes to us in this Mass, let's rest in his friendship, and promise that this week we will try to come closer to him. Nothing would please him more.

A manger is a feeding trough for animals. In the stable or cave where Mary and Joseph stay because the inns are filled, the manger serves as a makeshift crib for Mary's baby, the Redeemer. God's propensity for foreshadowing comes into play here. Not only is Jesus, who is our Life-Giver, laid in a feeding place, but his birthplace is Bethlehem, a town whose name means "House of Bread." It is as though God goes out of his way to underline that he is Bread for the world.

Eating is as essential for life as breathing. Daily we refuel ourselves with food. Omitting meals for any length of time leaves us weak and malfunctioning. No wonder we pray in the Our Father, "Give us this day our daily bread." We look to God for life. When Jesus spends his first hours in a manger, he indicates that he is our bread, our sustenance. Without him, we can't survive. As Jesus' journey on Earth began with wood, so did it end—not with the warm, welcoming wood of the manger, but the rough wood of the cross. This wood too is associated with bread. The body of Jesus nailed to the cross made efficacious his words of the preceding evening when he held bread in his hands and declared, "This is my body." The cross is the wood through which he became our source of eternal life.

As a good parent, God has always provided bread for his children. In Old Testament times when the world faced a famine, God raised up the patriarch Joseph to store enough Egyptian grain to feed the chosen people and other nations. Centuries later, as the Israelites trekked through the desert on the way to the Promised Land, again they faced starvation. Yahweh had compassion on them. Daily during their forty-year sojourn to Canaan he rained down bread from heaven called manna.

Then in New Testament times, when Jesus held the crowd's rapt attention for hours and they grew hungry, he was aware of their need and had compassion. He astounded them by multiplying bread in abundance. The Gospels give us no fewer than six accounts of the picnic of bread and fish Jesus provided. And Jesus continues to feed the hungry through his Church. After he ascended into heaven, one of the first decisions his followers made was to appoint seven deacons to oversee the distribution of food. Today Christians serve meals at soup kitchens and bring them to the homebound, work at hunger centers, and donate food for people in need.

In this century, Jesus continues to nourish people with bread. Whenever we share in the Eucharist, we are fortified and energized for our particular journey on Earth. As really as Jesus slept in the manger on Christmas night, as really as he hung on the cross on Good Friday, Jesus, now risen, comes into us when we partake of this sacrament. As food and drink he unites himself with us, and we become like him. But becoming like him means becoming bread for others.

To be bread for others is to have compassion on them in their hungers. When someone hungers for attention, we are there to listen. When someone hungers for affirmation, we are there to encourage and support. When someone hungers for understanding and sympathy, we are there to give solace. When someone hungers for justice, we are there to set things right.

In the words of Caryll Houselander: "The ultimate miracle of Divine Love is this, that the life of the risen Christ is given us to give to one another, through the daily bread of our human love."

Fr. Antonius David Tristianto, O.Carm.

God is a King. The Savior he sends us, Jesus Christ, the Son of God made man, comes not to philosophize, but to rule.

Herod trembled because he knew this. The Wise Men rejoiced because they knew this.

Even before Jesus can talk, he teaches us a precious truth about ourselves. In our hearts there dwell two potential responses to the coming of such a King: Herod's or the Magi's.

Herod had spent his life murdering, extorting, and building a personal kingdom ruled by his whims for his personal glory.

Christ enters the scene - a King with authority from on high. Herod immediately feels the threat. If Christ is not destroyed or discredited, it could spell the end of all his labors.

The Magi, on the other hand, do not fear the demands that this new King will make on their personal lives.

Instead, they rejoice to know that God's Savior is finally coming. Instead of hoarding and protecting their treasures, the fruits of their life's labors, they generously offer them to Christ as gestures of honor, respect, and allegiance.

Whenever Christ enters our lives, which he does every day through the voice of conscience, the teachings of his Church, and the designs of Providence, we must choose in whose steps we will follow, Herod's or the Magi's.

Will we tremble, afraid of what Jesus may demand of us?

Or will we rejoice, glad to have such a glorious Lord to follow?

We have both possibilities in our hearts - we are potential Herods, and we also are potential Magi.

Turn Over All Your Keys

What are we holding onto? Which part of our life is still resisting Christ's Kingship? Which room in our soul is still locked, and we haven't given Jesus the key?

Maybe it's our goals. Maybe we are still thinking that our great achievements will give meaning to our life.

They won't - only Christ will.The only achievement that will last is that of fulfilling his will, following his example, and his teachings.

Today, once and for all, let's lay those achievements, those gold medals we covet so much, at the feet of the baby Jesus, just like the Magi offered the gift of gold.

Maybe it's the affections of our heart. Maybe we still think that the perfect relationship will give meaning to our life. It won't.

There is no such thing as the perfect relationship - at least, not without Christ. In fact, he is the one who gives every relationship its lasting beauty and joy.

We need to strive to please him first, and then he will make our relationships pleasing beyond our wildest dreams.

Today, let's lay the affections of our heart at his feet, just as the Magi offered our Lord the sweet smell of their frankincense.

Maybe it's our sufferings. Maybe we are still angry at God for the hurt we have experienced in life.

But if he has permitted it, it's only because he knows he can transform it. Let's stop rebelling against our King and loving Lord and lay our sufferings at his feet - just as the Magi offered him their myrrh, the spicy ointment used to embalm bodies for burial.

Jesus wants to be our King, so that we can enjoy the adventure of living in and fighting for his Kingdom. Let's let him.

"Joseph with Mary his spouse, went up "to the city of David called Bethlehem" (Lk 2:4).

Bethlehem: the name means house of bread. In this "house", the Lord today wants to encounter all mankind. He knows that we need food to live. Yet he also knows that the nourishments of this world do not satisfy the heart. In Scripture, the original sin of humanity is associated precisely with taking food: "took of the fruit and ate", says the Book of Genesis (cf. 3:6). They took and ate. Mankind became greedy and voracious. In our day, for many people, life's meaning is found in possessing, in having an excess of material objects. An insatiable greed marks all human history, even today, when, paradoxically, a few dine luxuriantly while all too many go without the daily bread needed to survive.

Bethlehem is the turning point that alters the course of history. There God, in the house of bread, is born in a manger. It is as if he wanted to say: "Here I am, as your food". He does not take, but gives us to eat; he does not give us a mere thing, but his very self. In Bethlehem, we discover that God does not take life, but gives it. To us, who from birth are used to taking and eating, Jesus begins to say: "Take and eat. This is my body" (Mt 26:26). The tiny body of the Child of Bethlehem speaks to us of a new way to live our lives: not by devouring and hoarding, but by sharing and giving. God makes himself small so that he can be our food. By feeding on him, the bread of life, we can be reborn in love, and break the spiral of grasping and greed. From the "house of bread", Jesus brings us back home, so that we can become God's family, brothers and sisters to our neighbors. Standing before the manger, we understand that the food of life is not material riches but love, not gluttony but charity, not ostentation but simplicity.

The Lord knows that we need to be fed daily. That is why he offered himself to us every day of his life: from the manger in Bethlehem to the Upper Room in Jerusalem. Today too, on the altar, he becomes bread broken for us; he knocks at our door, to enter and eat with us (cf. Rev 3:20). At Christmas, we on earth receive Jesus, the bread from heaven. It is a bread that never grows stale, but enables us even now to have a foretaste of eternal life.

In Bethlehem, we discover that the life of God can enter into our hearts and dwell there. If we welcome that gift, history changes, starting with each of us. For once Jesus dwells in our heart, the center of life is no longer my ravenous and selfish ego, but the One who is born and lives for love. As we hear the summons to go up to Bethlehem, the house of bread, let us ask ourselves: What is the bread of my life, what is it that I cannot do without? Is it the Lord, or something else? Then, as we enter the stable, sensing in the tender poverty of the newborn Child a new fragrance of life, the odor of simplicity, let us ask ourselves: Do I really need all these material objects and complicated recipes for living? Can I manage without all these unnecessary extras and live a life of greater simplicity? In Bethlehem, beside where Jesus lay, we see people who themselves had made a journey: Mary, Joseph and the shepherds. Jesus is bread for the journey. He does not like long, drawn-out meals, but bids us rise quickly from table in order to serve, like bread broken for others. Let us ask ourselves: At Christmas do I break my bread with those who have none?

Fr. Antonius David Tristianto, O.Carm. 

We hear a lot of talk these days about "human dignity." Some people use that term to promote the idea that everyone should be completely free to do whatever they feel like. But even they don't live like that - if they get kidnapped, they want their kidnappers arrested and put in prison, just as we all do.

Human dignity doesn't mean that everyone should have unlimited freedom. Rather, human dignity means that every single human being has an eternal, everlasting value, just because they exist.

Because of this, we should organize our families, societies, and individual lives in a way that welcomes everyone and gives as many as possible a chance to live their lives to the full. And of course, that means having effective laws that protect the weak, promote justice, and minimize ethical pollution.

But today, in the middle of the Christmas season, as the Church turns our attention to Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, the Holy Family, it is a good time to remind ourselves where this human dignity comes from and what it implies.

Today's First Reading gives us the answer.

Abraham and Sarah were picked by God to be the ancestors of the ancient Israelites, God's Chosen People.

God's action in their life reveals three key insights into human dignity.

Every Person Has a Unique Mission

One of the key insights about human dignity is the most exciting one. Since each one of us has been created directly by God, with the cooperation of our parents, each one of us has a unique mission to accomplish in the world.

In the Bible God is always talking about mission and purpose. When Abram and Sarai received God's promise to be the ancestors of his Chosen People, God actually changed their names to Abraham and Sarah, as a sign of their God-given mission.

In today's Gospel passage, we see the same thing happening. Simeon and Anna have spent their lives serving God, and now they are the only ones who recognize Jesus, and they start spreading the Good News that the Savior has come - this was their unique mission.

Jesus himself, the model for every one of us, has the mission of redeeming the fallen human race. Every single one of us has a God-given mission - it came with being created. And God has given different sets of talents and gifts to equip each of us for our mission.

This mission is our unique way of knowing and loving God - our friendship with him is not generic, but personal, because God made us personal and unique. And if we follow Christ and fulfill this mission, then we will add something to heaven that no one else can add.

Our fulfillment and eternal happiness come from our finding and fulfilling this unique, God-given mission. And when we are baptized, this mission is plugged into Christ's mission - we become his missionaries.

As Pope Paul VI put it: "In God's plan, every man is born to seek self-fulfillment, for every human life is called to some task by God" (Populorum progressio, #15)

The Family - Protector of Human Dignity

And for every one of us, this journey of discovery begins in the family. In the family we gradually learn the truth about who we are, who God is, who we are called to be, and how to use our gifts and talents responsibly.

This is why the Church is always defending the family, just as God designed it from the very beginning of history. God gives us our dignity as human beings, but the family teaches us to live in accordance with that dignity.

And so today, as we contemplate the Holy Family, let's thank the Lord for the great gift of human life and the immeasurable dignity he has bestowed upon it, let's thank him for the wise and beautiful design of the family, in which that life takes shape and grows to maturity, let's thank him for his personal love for each one of us and promise that we will imitate that love in the way we live out our family lives, and let's ask him to show us all how to live our lives to the full and help as many others as possible do the same.

It sounds like a trick question akin to "Who's buried in Grant's tomb?" Of course Jesus' birth is Christmas Day. But did the Incarnate Word arrive on December 25? I'd say there's a 1-in-365 chance.

While births are significant in scripture, birthdays are not at all. Honestly, we don't know what year Jesus was born, much less the date. Sometime between what we call 7 BCE and 4 CE, the Word becomes flesh and dwells among us. John's gospel perceives the incarnation as central to history but the precise date is irrelevant. Details about Jesus' birth, as narrated by Matthew and Luke, are shaped for theological reasons, and they are powerfully significant ones. Their historicity is less certain—and, for these evangelists, utterly beside the point. Mark shows no interest in Jesus until he's a grown man. So anyone looking for the inches and ounces of Jesus' birth will find the gospels unforthcoming.

So why did the church latch onto the 25th of December? That date doesn't become a "thing" until the Roman Emperor Aurelius (270–275) institutes the sol invictus, or festival of the invincible sun. He sets this feast on the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year on the Roman calendar. In the anxiety of waning light, the coming victory over darkness is merrily anticipated.

The sol invictus is so popular, and so light-centered, it becomes a no-brainer for Christian leaders to co-opt and consecrate the celebration on their liturgical calendar. Converts are drawn from the Roman world, after all. The recognition of Jesus as "Light of the world" weds happily with the established festival to remind new Christians that "the dawn from on high will break upon us, to shine on those who sit in darkness and death's shadow" (Luke 1:78–79). By the fourth century Christian calendars include the nativity as a regular feast.

That works well in Rome. In Egypt and Arabia, however, winter solstice occurs on January 6th. A feast proclaiming God manifest among us, Epiphany, dawns for those Christians as well—which they celebrate on their solstice. In this easternmost part of the church, the feast is less about Jesus' arrival and more about how his divinity is revealed: by the testimony of the magi, in his baptism, and through the first miracle at Cana.

Later the West adopts Epiphany, and the East likewise assumes the nativity. With dual origins, Christmas-Epiphany becomes more an extended season with multiple meanings than a single event. For centuries the feast is hardly observed as a birthday party for Jesus, which some parishes throw today complete with cake and balloons. Early Christmas liturgies were pointedly determined to fight heresies. In heavy dogmatic fashion, Christmas honored "the eternal Word made flesh," in contradiction to the suggestion that the human Jesus was a divine mirage.

It would be centuries more before crèches and evergreens lightened the mood and the meaning of Christmas. Yet those strings of lights still remind us that a light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can't touch it.

https://uscatholic.org/articles/201712/was-jesus-born-on-christmas/

Fr. Antonius David Tristianto, O.Carm.

On this last Sunday of Advent, as the solemn celebration of Christ's birth approaches, the Church reminds us of that holy day nine months earlier when Jesus was conceived in his Mother's womb.

There are two great mysteries connected with that day. The first is the mystery of God becoming man - the Incarnation.

God has loved us so much that he became one of us, so that he could save us from sin and the meaninglessness that sin brings, and show us the way to a meaningful life, now and forever.

The second mystery is that God didn't - and doesn't - work out that plan of salvation for us all by himself. Instead, he asks for our cooperation.

In today's Gospel, God invites Mary to become the mother of the Savior. It was possible for Mary to reject this invitation. As in the parable of the many townspeople who decline the king's invitation to attend his son's wedding feast.

Mary could have said, "Thanks for the invitation, Lord, but what you're asking is actually very inconvenient for me. I really wish I could do what you want, but I'm just not there yet."

That's how Adam and Eve had responded to God's invitation to take care of the Garden of Eden.

But Mary didn't insult God with an answer like that. She knew God, and knew that his plans are always wise and wonderful.

So she put her life at his service: "I am the handmaid of the Lord, may it be done unto me according to your word." Mary's "yes" reversed Eve's "no", and made room for Christ's undoing of Adam's fall.

When God disrupts our plans, we should follow Mary's example, making our contribution to God's work of salvation, however small it may be.

Salvation is God's business, but it's a partnership; we have a role to play as well.

Mary's "yes" to God wasn't easy; it involved a total change of her plans. Mary had felt called early on to serve God through consecrated virginity, which meant not having children.

This is the reason behind her comment to the angel: "How can this be, since I have no relations with a man?" That comment would have made no sense if she were planning on leading a normal married life with St Joseph, her fiancée.

Life as a virgin consecrated to God was what she had envisioned for herself and planned for. But then the angel came along and changed those plans.

God often does the same thing with us. Like a good coach, he pushes us out of our comfort zone so that we can reach our full potential as Christians.

There are three ways especially in which God tends to disrupt our plans. First, when we are really busy and don't' want any interruptions he brings us into contact with someone who needs help.

Second, we suddenly discover that certain popular and fashionable behaviors or activities (which we would like to follow) are actually against Church teaching, that they cause damage to us and to others.

Third, when we are really tired, fed up, or angry, our conscience - like the angel Gabriel in today's Gospel passage - sends us a message saying that we really need to keep working, or to do a little extra work, or to be extra patient with someone, or to hold our tongue.

These are three common ways that God disrupts our personal plans in order to invite us to be partners in his plan of salvation.

Today, last Sunday before Christmas, let's ask God for the grace to respond generously to those disruptions, as Mary did, especially during the Christmas season, so that our part in God's plan of salvation is sure to get done.