“What, then, will this child be?”

Solemnity of the Nativity of John the Baptist

“What, then, will this child be?”  Mark records the very question that every parent has asked since the dawn of time.  The question, “How will my kid turn out?” has the ability to cause feelings of wonder and hope or shock and dismay.  If it were possible to add up the total number of hours of sleep lost as a result of pondering this question, we as parents, would be both impressed and frightened.  As we read the recorded words of John the Baptist’s relatives we may take some small comfort in knowing that the mystery, wonder, and worry associated with parenting transcends race, culture, and time.

There is no such thing as “winning” at parenting.  You cannot win at being a parent.  There are no prizes.  There are no trophies.  There are no ribbons.  There are no participation medals.  In spite of what you may think, read, or have been told your children’s successes, or failures, are completely and entirely their sole responsibility.

I recognize that may sound a little harsh.  In fact, when I shared this viewpoint with a group of dads earlier this week most of them, initially balked at its bluntness.  As parents we like to think that we what we do matters…and though it does, it does so in a way that has more to do with our ability to parent rather than our children’s ability to be successful.

Many years ago, as I was eagerly anticipating the birth of my first child, a co-worker pulled me aside and told me in a very crude and direct manner what to expect at the birth. He said, “Of all the things you get when your baby is born there are two things they don’t give you; 1) an owner’s manual, and 2) a receipt.”  In his unique and brusque manner he gave me the best parenting advice ever; a reminder that children don’t come with instructions and they can’t be returned.

Proverbs 22:6 states, “train the young in the way they should go; even when old they will not swerve from it.”  As a parent I hold tightly to that proverb.  It brings me comfort and hope and I pass that proverb on to you in the hope that you too will find comfort and hope in the promise of God.  However, even in this proverb we find the reality that as parents we do our best in the hope that our best is good enough.

Believe it or not my hope today is to encourage you.  I wish to encourage you as parents, both current and future, by reminding you of your sacred duty to raise your children in love and with hope.  As today’s Gospel reminds us, the birth of a child is a wellspring of hope.  As the relatives and neighbors of John the Baptist exclaimed, “What, then, will this child be?” so too we find hope and promise in our children, not only in their birth but also as they grow and develop.

The supreme example of parenting is, of course, God the Father.  As reveled to us in his Word, in his creation, and in his Son, Jesus Christ, we know that God the Father is love and his mercy is the source of our hope.  As parents we should strive in all that we do and say to emulate God’s love for our children.  Through and with love, we communicate hope, and through that hope we provide encouragement as we inspire, motivate, and disciple our children.

Parenting out of love requires us too consciously, and with effort, to remove fear from our words and actions.  Fear seeks validation through success and when success is not achieved the fruits produced are feelings of rejection and unworthiness.  Fear communicates to our children that their worthiness is conditional, based on outcomes and performance, and denies our children the opportunity to experience the joy and stability produced from love without conditions.

Parents are charged with communicating God’s love to their children, for, ultimately, they are his.  We communicate love in everything we do; when we hold and squeeze our babies, when we establish and enforce boundaries for our teenagers, when we allow natural consequences, both positive and negative, to run their course, and when we provide instruction, advice, and encouragement.  In all these things, and many more, we must communicate love.

God, in his infinite wisdom and by his immeasurable love, created us, humankind, with the ability to choose. The ability to choose to accept or reject him.  It is with that example of God’s love, through which we have been called, by which we must parent.  Exposing our children to choice, exposes them to risk.  As parents we manage risk, the best we can, by managing choice.  We communicate love to our children when we allow and provide opportunities for appropriate risk, and when combined with our acceptance that failure and success are equally viable outcomes, we allow hope, an unfathomable wellspring, to encourage, inspire, and heal our children.

Today’s Gospel is a message of hope.  Hope in God and his promise to save all of humankind through the salvation made available to us through his son, Jesus Christ.  I ask you this day, as you come to the altar of God, to ask for his mercy and grace, through which all fear is vanquished, so that we, the family of God, may parent, in all its facets and forms, with the unconditional love of God.  A love that in turn brings hope…hope to all, each and every one of us.

Following my senior year of high school

10th Sunday Ordinary Time
Gospel of Mark 3:20-35

Following my senior year of high school, at the conclusion of that summer, I set out upon the first real adventure of my young life. I stuffed my car full with clothes and stereo components (because in the 80’s stereos didn’t fit in pockets) and left the tiny town of Buffalo, Wyoming. I left that day with the goal of accomplishing 2 things; 1) to eventually arrive in the city of Bartlesville, Oklahoma where I was enrolled for college, and 2) get away from Buffalo, Wyoming as quickly as possible.

Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t hate my home town, nor was I trying to escape or leave my family, but at that moment in my life I felt like I had to get out of there. It was almost a need. As if I needed to be somewhere else, anywhere else, other than there.

And so, on that hot summer August day in 1988, while Yellowstone burned, I left Buffalo, Wyoming in my stuffed to the roof, 1981, Midnight Blue, Ford Mustang and set upon an adventure.

As I look back on that time in my life I have come to the conclusion that what I lacked in wisdom, prudence, patience, and common sense I made up for in sheer stupidity. However, and I sincerely mean this, there is not one moment, not one minute, that I would exchange or trade. Now, that doesn’t mean I sometimes think about what could have happened if I had done some things differently, but I wouldn’t exchange a one of them.

Today’s Gospel reading in Mark caused me to recall a moment that occurred early on in my young adult life. To be honest it is a rather benign moment, neither good nor bad, and frankly I am surprised I recall it all, yet, I find a truth in that moment that I believe has some relevance to today’s Gospel.

After having been gone from my childhood home for a while I returned for a visit. As is the norm my mother prepared the meal, set the table, and called us to dinner. I entered the dining room only to discover that my brother was sitting in my usual spot. I will admit that for a moment, and not too brief of a moment mind you, I experienced a feeling of annoyance, combined with a touch of irritation, and I seriously considered saying something about my brother’s apparent lack of respect for the unwritten rules of the house. I chose to keep my mouth shut and, instead, took the next available seat.

The unwritten rules of a family. All families have them. In today’s Gospel, Mark, in his succinct and direct manner, provides us with an insight to one of the unwritten rules of Jesus’s family.

Marks tells us this, “Jesus came home with his disciples. Again the crowd gathered making it impossible for them to even eat. When his relatives heard of this they set out to seize him, for they said, ‘He is out of his mind.’” First of all, tell me that isn’t funny. Second, and to my point, even Jesus’s family had unwritten rules.

Imagine with me, if you will, just for a moment, what that day must have been like for Jesus’s family. Their 30-some year old family member returns home after having been away. He brings a “gang” he calls disciples. He has no job. He has no home, and apparently, no aspiration to obtain either. He keeps saying absolutely crazy stuff like; “Love your neighbor as yourself”, “pray for your enemies”, and “be like the birds of the air and the lilies of the field.” And, I believe this is the one that really put them over the top, “Not everyone who calls me Lord, Lord shall enter the Kingdom of Heaven, but he does the will of my Father.”

Jesus’s family were so frustrated that, according to Mark, they set out to seize him. They fully intended to lay hands on him, restrict him, and prevent him from continuing on in this absolutely crazy adventure. They were so desperate to stop Jesus they even invented theories about him being possessed by the devil. They wanted Jesus to stop. They had had enough.

Yet, we know that Jesus didn’t stop. He continued to preach, teach, and draw people to him. He continued to heal the sick, feed the hungry, and call people to repentance. Jesus was so revolutionary that even his own family did not understand him, and yet it was because of him, and his revolutionary love, that the world found its salvation.

There are times, I propose, that we forget, or diminish, the humanity of Jesus. How he grew up in a family, in a home, in a community and how hurt he must have been by their confusion and lack of understanding. We forget that he too experienced the hurt caused by family and friends who doubted his claims and ignored his love. Do not doubt for a minute that Jesus Christ, the Savior of you, me, and the entire world, did not know the hurt of living this life.

It has been a tough week for us, our church family, and I believe that the difficulties and struggles have not yet subsided. However, my brother’s and sister’s in Christ, do not lose hope for the wondrous grace and mercy of God is present in his Church, in his Body and Blood, and in each other. We boldly and confidently accept the opportunity presented to us to serve one another in the revolutionary love of Jesus, and, through the unfathomable well of his mercy, which is being poured out for us, we take confidence in the power of the Holy Spirt, knowing what Christ accomplishes in us and through us will change our lives and the lives of the people around us.

I challenge you this week and in the weeks to come to answer the call…the call to love revolutionary. Take initiative and visit the sick, the homebound, and the imprisoned. Schedule time for prayer, especially prayer in front of the Blessed Sacrament, and allow God to call you to and prepare you for his service. Reach out to your neighbor in love and in charity. Live in peace with one another. Make right a wrong, correct an error, and repair what is broken. Live your life revolutionary…through the revolutionary love of Jesus.