Epiphany - A: Being drawn to Christ while others are being repelled

 Friends

Peace be with you. 

I had a couple of friends when I was a college student with whom I would go to church. They were my residents, in fact, when I was a Resident Assistant taking care of one of the floors at Loras College. I got them involved in music ministry and did what I could to make them feel welcomed and a part of the church. I graduated before them but tried to remain in contact with them. They both moved to the suburbs of Chicago after graduation and got good, high-paying jobs. One day, I was talking to one of them and asked what church they went to, assuming that, since they lived close to each other, they still supported each other’s church-going habit. The one with whom I was speaking paused and admitted to me that they had become like much of their generation, more spiritual than religious. I asked about his prayer life and he admitted it wasn’t where he wanted it to be. So, I said, you’re more spiritual than religious but you also rarely, if ever pray. How’s that working out for you? He admitted it wasn’t where he wanted to be and told me that he would try to get to church more often. We hung up on good terms but, after I hung up, I started asking myself what I was doing. At that point, I was in the seminary preparing to become a priest for a generation of Catholics who are no longer attending Mass. 

And, it’s getting worse. They think that in the 1950s, seventy percent of American Catholics would attend Mass weekly. In the 2010’s, 50% of Catholics over 50 years old attended Mass and only 25 percent of Catholics in their 20’s attended Mass. I would guess probably half of that attend after the pandemic, don’t you think? I know we tend to think of the scandals and theological controversies as one of the major reasons Catholics aren’t attending Mass but I honestly wonder how much of it is simply because a person’s peer group stopped going to Mass and there’s greater peer pressure not to go than to go. Let’s face it, not only do most people not attend a church on the weekend, they think there is something wrong with those of us who do. We hate science or we’re socially awkward or we're prudish or we’re evil hiding behind the cloak of the church. They may not come right out and say that a person shouldn’t go to church but chances are they may think twice about inviting you to hang out or they may seem to press your moral boundaries when you do. 

In our Gospel for today, you have pagan priests known as the magi who are guided by the star to search out the newborn King of the Jews. These men were Persian priests who advised their king and interpreted dreams. Apparently, they also looked into the stars for guidance because they were able to not only recognize a star guiding them but knew to bring gifts because of the star guiding them to the newborn king of the Jews. They came prepared and they got what they wanted. Let’s contrast that with Herod, the person that considers himself the King of the Jews, who not only doesn’t search for the child, but he sends the Magi to be his private investigators. Why isn’t Herod himself searching instead of just sending the Magi? That’s one of the ironies of this story, the pagan magi are searching and finding while Herod, the sort of Jew, isn’t even searching for his king. 

Back in 2009, when he was still a Cardinal, Pope Benedict XVI gave this often cited quote, 

“It will be hard-going for the Church, for the process of crystallization and clarification will cost her much valuable energy. It will make her poor and cause her to become the Church of the meek . . . The process will be long and wearisome as was the road from the false progressivism on the eve of the French Revolution — when a bishop might be thought smart if he made fun of dogmas and even insinuated that the existence of God was by no means certain . . . But when the trial of this sifting is past, a great power will flow from a more spiritualized and simplified Church. Men in a totally planned world will find themselves unspeakably lonely. If they have completely lost sight of God, they will feel the whole horror of their poverty. Then they will discover the little flock of believers as something wholly new. They will discover it as a hope that is meant for them, an answer for which they have always been searching in secret.”

I think there’s a seed of truth to these thoughts by our recently deceased pope-emeritus, but it’s too easy to say that this is inevitably what is going to happen. We may, indeed, be a generation that watches the church get smaller but I think Pope Benedict would be the first to say that doesn’t mean we are any less responsible for living out the Gospel and calling people to conversion. We saw it tragically on Monday when Damar Hamlin collapsed and almost died playing football. What did his teammates do on that field? They stopped and prayed. What happened in the wake of September 11, 2001, when our world was grappling with the idea of airplanes being used as bombs? People went into church and prayed. When the world doesn’t operate as we want, people often ask the Lord to intervene, they’re drawn back to church. They need us to be here to welcome them back. They may not know it but they need us to be here, like the Magi, adoring the Lord and loving them. Can we be faithful for the people who are pressuring us not to be?