Inspiration for a Catholic Life

Nothing transforms a life more than the birth of a baby. A woman becomes a mom, a man a dad, a boy or girl becomes a brother or sister. Their lives are never the same. No one has transformed history more than the one conceived by the Holy Spirit in the womb of the Blessed Virgin Mary. […]

Good news indeed! She’s pregnant! His birthday is right around the corner! Get the baby’s room — our hearts — ready! Life will never be the same.

We all knew the marbles were coming. And yesterday, as the new translation of the Mass went “live” across the country, the Church plopped them right in our mouths. Let’s consider the marble taken from today’s Gospel, which literally comes straight out of the mouth of a Roman centurion. Just before communion, we now pray: “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.” With the exception of the word “soul” (instead of “servant”), this prayer is identical to what the centurion says to Jesus. Which means we are that much closer to the event of Jesus’ miraculous cure of the centurion’s suffering servant. Matthew’s words take on more flesh, more immediacy for us - our memories are jogged and suddenly we remember Jesus’ mind-boggling reaction: “He was amazed and said… ‘in no one in Israel have I found such faith’” (Mt 8:10, see also Lk 7:9). This is the only scene in the Gospels where Jesus expressed joyful amazement, as if the Lord had just witnessed a miracle. No wonder that the Church had immortalized the centurion’s words in her liturgy. Why? So that we too might become walking and talking miracles. For what better words to place on our lips before receiving a Miracle on our tongue than this faith-filled pagan prayer.

Loving Father, you’ve given us new words to pray at Mass. As we gradually get the feel for them, fill us with your Son’s amazement to help us receive them as miraculous marbles in our mouths.

Loving Father, increase my longing and my watchfulness for Jesus Christ your Son, so that Christmas may find me wholeheartedly rejoicing in the gift of His presence.

Awaiting a baby’s birth means looking forward to seeing the face of a new son or daughter. Parents are eager to love and nurture their child. Advent is different. Advent turns everything on its head. For in awaiting the birth of Jesus, Mary and Joseph were somehow looking forward to seeing the face of the Father, to be nurtured by their child. At Advent, we are called to be one the watch for this love of the Father, expressed perfectly in the incarnation of Jesus. Our hope is in the faithful love of our Father whose love is fulfilled in giving us His Son. And we trust that in asking us to hope, in asking us to wait and to watch, our Father is Himself watching out for our good. The waiting that the Father requires of us is not a deprivation, but rather, in his Fatherly wisdom, he is generating us through the very patience that he demands. He is creating us anew through the hope that he nurtures in us. As we prepare for the coming of Christ, the Father is preparing us, so that our hearts will be enlarged by hope and opened wide enough to experience the fulness of joy that Christ brings. As we keep watch for Jesus, the Father keeps watch for us.