ALL ARE WELCOME

 

The Epiphany of the Lord Sr. Barbara E. Reid President Emerita Carroll Stuhlmueller, C.P. Distinguished ​Professor of New Testament Studies Readings: Isaiah 60:1-6 Psalm 72:1-2, 7-8, 10-11, 12-13. Ephesians 3:2-3a, 5-6 Matthew 2:1-12   On this joyous feast, all the readings underscore the welcome extended to all in God’s embrace. Isaiah speaks of how peoples from every nation will stream toward the renewed Jerusalem, all bearing their gifts and proclaiming God’s praises. The responsorial psalm likewise sings of how every nation on earth will adore God’s Anointed One. The letter to the Ephesians emphasizes that “the Gentiles are coheirs, members of the same body, and copartners in the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel” (3:6). There are no second-class members and no privileges for those who had priority in the faith. All are equal comembers. The gospel recounts that exotic visitors from the East were the first to do homage to the newborn Jesus. The term “magi” originally referred to a caste of Persian priests. They were not kings themselves but served their king with skills such as interpreting dreams. In the gospel they also appear to be adept at interpreting the movement of the stars. Following the star, they are the first Gentiles to seek and recognize Jesus, offering their precious gifts to him. In so doing, they foreshadow the way Gentiles will flock to the Christian communities, bearing gifts for mission. The strong insistence in the letter to the Ephesians on the equal status of Gentiles, backed up with the assertion that this has now been revealed to the apostles and prophets by the Spirit, shows how the early Christian communities struggled to make this equality a reality. The difficulties in welcoming Gentiles have long ago been overcome, but other struggles to create egalitarian communities still face us today. On December 3, President Trump declared that if you hail from Afghanistan, Myanmar, Chad, the Republic of Congo, Equatorial Guinea, Eritrea, Haiti, Iran, Libya, Somalia, Sudan or Yemen you are not welcome in the United States. And if your home country is Burundi, Cuba, Laos, Sierra Leone, Togo, Turkmenistan or Venezuela, you are welcome only if you undergo additional scrutiny. Efforts to exclude transgender persons from sports, the military, and more, are in full swing. People from Somalia were told explicitly by the President that he does not want them in this country. More than 605,000 immigrants have been deported from the U.S. this year, some of whom have been peaceful, contributing citizens for decades. Almost 2 million more left voluntarily this year, knowing they were unwelcome and fearing deportation. And yet, there are individuals and communities that are working tirelessly in private and public ways to ensure that all are welcome. Chicago residents have blown whistles to alert vulnerable neighbors to the presence of ICE agents. Some have protested at the detention facility in Broadview. Some are doing grocery shopping and laundry for neighbors too afraid to leave their homes. Some are escorting children of frightened parents to school and home again. In Evanston, people with disabilities were invited to a barrier-free Christmas orchestral concert the Sunday before Christmas. In ordinary concert settings, these people are not welcome because of the way the music moves them to vocalize and move around in ways that others find distracting. In Adrian, Michigan, college students from Burkina Foso, one of the countries under a travel ban to the U.S., are being “adopted” by families who are helping them navigate through multiple challenges. On this Epiphany Sunday, our Scriptures and the inclusive practices of Jesus give us a guiding star to follow in our efforts to be inclusive and welcoming to all. Prejudices, racism, and discrimination run deep. Facing our own prejudices and working to dismantle them is a most difficult task. It can take a lifetime, but it is possible to do with the help of the Spirit, who continues to reveal that all have equal dignity and are welcome. Barbara E. Reid, O.P. President Emerita Carroll Stuhlmueller, C.P. Distinguished ​Professor of New Testament Studies https://learn.ctu.edu/category/sunday-scripture-reflection/

God's Revelation . . .

 

The Epiphany of the Lord 2026 

January 4, 2026

www.johnpredmoresj.com | predmore.blogspot.com

  

Isaiah 60:1-6; Psalm 72; Ephesians 3:2-6; Matthew 2:1-12

The Christmas picture is complete as the magi from the East come to the crib to pay homage to the Christ child. The Christmas creches have all the pieces in place with these three final figures and their camels. The story is crucial for the Christian faith because it is the moment when all the spiritual seekers of the world are welcomed into God’s realm. Humankind pauses to humbly honor God and to acknowledge God’s sovereignty over existence. For those who are searching, it is a meaningful moment to gaze upon the infant and to know they are with God. 

 

Christians think of Epiphany as the event in which all the nations of the world meet the God of Israel. The magi are depicted as wise men, perhaps astronomers, who show wisdom by seeing through the deception of Herod and choosing not to associate with the man. They do not make a scene. They do not give any power to Herod. They simply disregard Herod and make their own way home. 

 

The story is about us and about all who seek God. We really do want to know if God knows us and remembers us. We all want that God moment when our hearts are overjoyed just as the wise men were when they saw the star. We want to know that God touches our lives, and through this story, we are given a clue. God’s presence is almost undetectable. It is gentle, soft, tender, and is experienced through our senses. God’s voice is spoken through invitations, whispers, nudges, and memories, and when we experience it, our hearts and senses brighten with joy. God came to us through a vulnerable child who needed our love to sustain him and nourish his life. Our lives depend upon this love exchange. 

 

Very many people seek God but might not have the religious language. Those who are weary of religion remain spiritual seekers and they want the same experience that we want and often get. Religion would be more attractive if it paid less attention to rules and teachings and spent more time teaching people who to pray, how to notice God’s presence in one’s life, or how to discern the spirits that guide us through life. People want to know the meaning of life. They want to know that they matter. They want to know that they belong. How can we let people know they matter and that we like them and want to care for them? 

 

          Imagine the good we could do for the world if we recognized that each person we pass by fundamentally wants to know God. People take different paths throughout life and sometimes they are not ready, but our disposition towards them can help them realize they belong. Everyone wants to belong and feel accepted. This is one of the reasons we return home to our families for holidays because they, act like God, even in their dysfunctional state, they will take you in and accept you just because you are one of them, one of us. No one deserves to feel lonely. No one needs to feel alone or on the outside. Epiphany is the moment in which God reveals to us that you matter, you belong, and God becomes very vulnerable to you, and wants your acceptance. God asks, “Will you pick up the child and hold him, please?” By doing this, God wants to hold you and embrace you in all your vulnerabilities. 

 

          Epiphany says to us: God is here. God is here for you. God embraces you as you reach back to God. This is the moment in which thin space that separates humans from the divine is penetrated and blessed with a kiss. Go forth, with your vulnerabilities, and know that the world is full of seekers and that is a place of privilege. When we seek God, we often find God right by our side. 

 

God is Gift for all!

 

Among the four Gospels, Matthew’s
account is the only one that includes the story of the Magi. From the outset, this narrative unfolds with all the elements of a compelling drama—it features long and arduous journeys, mysterious astrologers, the appearance of a guiding star that may have originated from a supernova, and the ever-present shadow of danger. Political intrigue weaves through the plot, alongside divine messages delivered through dreams and holy whisperings, all centering around a vulnerable newborn child.

Matthw emphasizes the universal scope of Jesus’ mission, showing that his message is not limited to any single group. Over centuries, Christian imagination, legend, and tradition have embellished Matthew’s story. The original text does not specify that the Magi were wise, that they were men, or kings, nor does it indicate that there were three of them, that they came from the Orient, or what their mode of travel was. Matthew’s narrative also omits their names. Ultimately, it is not the details that hold the greatest importance, but rather the deeper meaning Matthew intended to convey.

 

Matthew wrote this story to reveal a profound mystery: God is now made known to all nations. The revelation of God in Christ is for the transformation of all humanity—across every nation and throughout all of history.

 The Magi were Gentiles, originating from the Persian priestly class in the East—regions corresponding to present-day Iraq and Iran. Renowned as star-gazers, they closely studied the movements of the planets and stars. These individuals were recognized as wisdom figures, adept at interpreting dreams, and skilled in areas such as medicine, natural science, and astrology. 

In the ancient world, it was widely believed that the Magi possessed the ability to predict the future through their observations of the stars, and that a person’s destiny was determined by the star uner which they were born. While scholars are uncertain which star the Magi saw, it was clear to them that this celestial sign indicated the arrival of a king into the world.

The Magi have come to represent the entire Gentile world. According to medieval legends, they were named Melchior, Balthazar, and Gaspar. Each figure was said to come from a distinct culture: Melchior from Asia, Balthazar from Persia, and Gaspar from Ethiopia, together symbolizing the three races known to the ancient world.

Author John Shea recounts a legend in which the Magi were of different ages: Gaspar was young, Balthazar was in his middle years, and Melchior was elderly. As they arrived at the cave in Bethlehem, each entered one at a time. Melchior encountered an old man like himself, and they spoke of memory and gratitude. Balthazar, entering next, met a teacher of his own age, and they discussed leadership and responsibility. When Gaspar entered, he was greeted by a young prophet, and together they spoke of reform and promise.

When the three met outside the cave, they realized that although each had gone in to see a newborn child, each had met someone corresponding to his own age. Gathering their gifts, they entered together a second time. There, in the manger on a bed of straw, they found a child twelve days old.

The underlying message is that God  addresses every stage of life. The young hear the call to identity and intimacy; those in middle age are called to generativity and responsibility; and elders are invited to seek integrity and wisdom. In seeking Christ at every stage of our lives, we are also gifted with the opportunity to find our truest selves.

 

This journey is not a one-time event; it is an ongoing invitation. The mystery of Epiphany is that “God is perfectly hidden and perfectly revealed.” Each time we seek and encounter the divine, we are both challenged and transformed.

After experiencing the face of God in the fragile, tender child, the Magi gain a new and profound awareness that all are welcomed, accepted, and loved by this newborn King. Their encounter with Jesus changes them deeply, inspiring them to live their lives in a new way.

God speaks to the Magi in their dreams, warning them of the danger awaiting if they return to Herod. Having been in God’s presence, they understand that they must abandon their old, familiar paths and embark on new journeys, ready to follow new stars.

The Magi leave with a renewed sense of inner knowledge, filled with joy and awe. They cherish the meaning and mystery of their personal encounter with the one who is beyond all galaxies—the Prince of Peace!

The feast celebrated today powerfully reminds us that, in the eyes of God, there are no foreigners, strangers, aliens, or outsiders. Regardless of our outward physical or cultural differences, each of us is welcomed and belongs to God. Our religious beliefs or personal lifestyles do not separate us from God’s love and acceptance. God is inclusive, unpredictable, imaginative, compassionate, forgiving, and creative, embracing everyone without exception.

This feast also calls us to become “epiphany people.” Once we have encountered this message, there is no going back; instead, we are invited to continually “shine forth” with courage, compassion, vision, and hope. We are encouraged to live with a courageous hearts, remaining deeply engaged with humanity and responding to the call to make a difference in our own unique ways.

Let us welcome the graces offered through these readings and this celebration, recognizing that it is in the liturgy—through sharing the Word and breaking the bread together—that we, too, become “epiphany people.” In this sacred space, we encounter God, the Holy Mystery, and are transformed. We are invited to reflect on the seasons of our own lives, remembering the times when God has been revealed to us and called us to set out on new journeys, guided by a new star.

 Finally let us pray in a poet’s words- Macrina Wiederkehr:

Creator of the Stars; God of Epiphanies

You are the Great Star; You have marked our paths with light

You have filled our sky with stars naming each star

Guiding it until it shines into our hearts

Awakening us to deeper seeing                                

New revelations

And brighter epiphanies!

Rev. 2025

A New Year's pondering . . .

 

NEW YEAR'S BLESSING PRAYER

 FOR CLOCKS AND CALENDARS

 God, Holy One, You who live outside of time,

and reside in the imperishable moment,

we ask Your blessing this New Year's Day (Eve)

upon Your gift to us of time.

Bless our clocks and watches,

You who kindly direct us

to observe the passing of minutes and hours.

May they make us aware of the miracle

of each second of life we experience.

May these our ticking servants

help us not to miss that which is important,

while You keep us from machine-like routine.

May we ever be free from being clock watchers

and instead become time lovers.

 

Bless our calendars,

these ordered lists of days, weeks and months, of holidays, holydays,

fasts and feasts ­all our special days of remembering.

May these servants, our calendars,

once reserved for the royal few,

for magi and pyramid priests,

now grace our homes and our lives.

May they remind us of birthdays and other gift-days,

as they teach us the secret

that all life

is meant for celebration

and contemplation.

Bless, O God, this New Year,

each of its 365 days and nights.

Bless us with new moons and full moons.

Bless us with happy seasons and a long life.

Grant to us, O Holy One,

the new year's gift

of a year of love.

 

Amen+

Author: Ed Hays

 

 

Invited to be God's presence . . .

 I am certain that many homilies today are in support of refugees, displaced persons, and immigrants, and rightly so. Our care for our brothers and sisters is of paramount importance, and they comprise our holy family, which is the reason for today’s feast. I want to first comment of the underlying systems that cause displacement. We first must start with Herod, the man whose kingship felt threatened by the birth on a child, and I ask this question: What could love have done if we had loved in time? 

Herod grew into an insecure man who consolidated his tenuous power, and because of his self-doubt, killed thousands of innocent children in the hopes of eradicating all enemies and sent many into exile. In his childhood development, what happened? Did he not receive the proper love to settle his anxious ambition? I think of the inseparable relationship between love, power, and justice. Without love, power becomes tyranny; justice is rule for the strong. Without power, love is reduced to sentimentality. Without justice, love is an odd dance of domination. 

The question stands: What could have happened to Herod if he had been sufficiently loved to settle his anger? And today, who are the Herods in our lives that we need to love so fully to calm one’s rage or insecurity? Love is the only power in this world to halt the progress of evil in its tracks. This is hard work to do, especially when those Herods enrage us. The lives of many people hang in the balance.

The church asks us to see one another as brother and sister, especially the poor and those in great need, like immigrants. This is the holy family. Our Christian love, truly lived, breaks down every barrier, unites strangers, reconciles enemies, and brings close those who were distant. This is awesome. Our love has the power to convert the hearts of the Herods of our time, even if it seems impossible. We need our love to be without limits. We are the church, and the Church that sets no limits to love produces miracles.

God’s gift to us at Christmas is God’s very presence: Emmanuel. God is with us. No one is excluded from that love. Not a soul. God does not divide people into categories. It is time for us to break down our divisions, move away from rigidity and idealism, and find our common humanity in one another. There is not a person who is not saved already. Christ already saved us when he accepted the Cross. There is nothing we can do to change the course of salvation history. God’s consciousness is much bigger than you can ever imagine. You are in God’s heart, mind, and memory – forever – and ever – and ever. I hope you can fully receive that felt knowledge of God’s personal love for you – the one that beholds you with joy, that admires you for all the good you have done, that honors you for touching the lives of so many people. Because we belong to God, we belong to one another – as gifts to be cherished and honored and shared – with great dignity. 

We must be God’s love in action. We must be the love that reconciles, the invites, that affirms and even converts the hearts of our Herods. We must bring love to places where love has been absent. We must bring love to places where love once existed and now is no more – in broken relationships. We must be the love that leaves the church walls and sanctuaries to encounter those who hunger – those who do not have faith, those who have left because of disappointment, those whose hearts are heavy or damaged, those who are blinded by power. I must examine my consciousness to see if I have sufficiently received the love of God and the love of others. I don’t want to be a Herod. Is there a place in my life where I need to transform anger and judgment and replace it with love? Do I have the courage to give love a chance? It may indeed save lives; it will certainly save souls. 

We are invited to be God’s presence to those who seek greater meaning. We are to harness the power of God’s love and set this world on fire, and we shall know, with deep assurances, that God is truly with us. We shall know that God more than sufficiently loves us. 

https://www.johnpredmoresj.com/

https://predmore.blogspot.com/

Fr. Enzo Del Brocco, CP - Christmas 2025 Message

Merry Christmas-ing!

The Work of Christmas by Howard Thurman

When the song of the angels is stilled,

When the star in the sky is gone,

When the kings and the princes are home,

When the shepherds are back with their flocks,

The work of Christmas begins:

To find the lost,

To heal the broken in spirit,

To feed the hungry,

To release the prisoner,

To rebuild the nations,

To bring peace among all peoples, and

To make a little music with the heart.

       

Silent Night, Holy Night

A Christmas Eve reflection  based on Luke 2:1-14

Recently I had to have the battery in my watch replaced. So I went to my favorite jewelers, and while I was waiting, the saleswoman asked if she could share with me the story of her seven-year-old son. It seems that their church had just selected the cast of characters for its annual Christmas play, and her son had been chosen to be Joseph, an obvious honor for this young boy. Then, imitating her son’s enthusiastic reaction upon hearing this wonderful news, she placed her hands upon her heart, and smiling, shared his precious exclamation: “Oh, thank you.  I have waited all my life for this!”

God, too, had waited not just a lifetime, but for all eternity to become flesh within Mary’s womb and enter into the world of humanity. Tonight, as we gather, we are invited to share in Luke’s account of the nativity—a narrative deeply woven with social, religious, and political significance. Luke writes especially for his Gentile and Christian audience, highlighting that this divine child comes from humble beginnings, without any signs of royalty or grandeur at his birth. Jesus is born during a journey, and the first to celebrate his arrival are shepherds—marginalized figures whose presence at the manger underscores that this child is meant for all people, across all nations.

The Gospel paints a vivid scene: Mary and Joseph are transients, much like the homeless found on city streets today. Mary, a young woman living within a patriarchal society and under the rule of an occupying power, brings her child into the world as so many disadvantaged people do—without the safety and security of a home. Jesus’ birth, taking place under such conditions, invites us to reflect on the profound humility and vulnerability at the heart of the nativity story.

When Mary and Joseph finally arrived, they found Bethlehem teeming with others who had also come to be registered. The expectant parents searched for a place to stay, but every door was closed to them. At last, they were shown to a place used as a shelter for animals, where they found refuge among the village livestock. It was here, in these humble surroundings, that Mary gave birth to her child. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes—a traditional Palestinian practice for newborns—and laid him in a manger.

The first to receive the message of this miraculous yet humble birth were shepherds keeping watch over their flocks in the fields. These laborers, who occupied a low rung on the economic and social ladder, hurried to Bethlehem after hearing the angels’ announcement. They found everything just as the angels had described, Mary, Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. Within that simple cave, the presence of the displaced couple, the manger, and the shepherds together revealed a profound truth: God chooses to enter into the world through the poor, the marginalized, the powerless, and the oppressed.

However, if we listen between the lines of Luke’s account, we will hear a foreshadowing of who this divine child will be as told through the images, intimations, and figurative language in this sacred story.

This child, too, will one day ride a donkey into a crowded city, seeking an inn with an upper room to celebrate the Passover. There will be no straw-filled manger, but his whole life will be a sacred table of welcoming and mercy, and he will name himself as bread, wine, the Way, the Life, and a shepherd who is good.

Raised as a carpenter, he will be familiar with the feel of the wood beneath his beaten body, remembering the smell of Joseph’s small shop. He will be laid in the arms of his loving and faith-filled mother once again, as he is removed from his cross. He will be wrapped in a linen cloth, much like his swaddling clothes from his moments of birth; but now, they will embrace him in his death.  He will be laid in a cave-like tomb, not warm with the breath of animals nor shielded by the loving protection of Joseph as he was in the stable at Bethlehem.

Then, with an inconceivable and unfathomable mysterious movement, God will bring forth a cosmic energy that will move away stones and break through boundaries and fears, and God will raise Jesus as the Christ born again in every heart of humanity.

Yes, even angels will gather once again upon his rising from death to new life and will sing of his glory as Messiah, Savior, Emmanuel, Wonder-Counselor, and Prince of Peace. Jesus will have waited for this all his life!

This night’s story is familiar throughout the world, cherished and re-enacted in countless countries. Children everywhere dress up as shepherds, wise ones, Mary and Joseph, angels and innkeepers, sheep and camels. Yet, we are left to consider: what does this story mean for all of us?

Each of us tonight is invited to reflect on our own nativity story—recalling the images, details, visitors, and celebrations that have shaped our journey. We are entrusted with carrying forward the dreams, vision, and mission of our God. Our faith is not solely founded on the emptiness of the tomb or the humility of the stable. Our hope does not depend on angelic choirs or cosmic wonders in the sky.

But let it be known, “that the mystery of the nativity is that love is made incarnate every time it deepens in us.” As we grow in love individually, as a community, and as a people of God, we make love more present in the world. “As Christmas is born again in each of us, it comes forth again into the world.” No matter where we live, work, play, grieve, or celebrate, the message and mystery of the Incarnation cannot be brought out only once a year like the nativity set decorations under our tree.

It is our daily challenge to accept the call to continue God’s dream and vision for all humanity. And in the words of Pope Francis . . . We are “to go forth and preach the Gospel to all: to all places, on all occasions, without hesitation, reluctance or fear. The joy of the Gospel is for all people: no one can be excluded.... That is what the angel proclaimed to the shepherds in Bethlehem: ‘Be not afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of a great joy which will come to all the people.”

Finally, since this is the season and night of story, let us become people of the story—stories of faith, hope, resilience, and love. As we continue to share in the Word, the breaking of the Bread, the cup of Wine, and the sign of peace, we prepare to return to our homes, guided by the light of the stars. For God has waited an eternity for us this night.

And so we pray . . .

“Light looked down and saw darkness.  “I will go there,” said light.

Peace looked down and saw war.  “I will go there,” said peace.

Love looked down and saw hatred.  “I will go there,” said love.

So the God of Light, The Prince of Peace,

The King of Love, came down and crept in beside us.” 

 (Rev. John Bell)

 

Jean Hinderer, CSA

Merry Christmas!

 

 

Dreams - God whispers . . .

And God said:

I myself will dream a dream

within you.

Good dreams come from me

you know.

 

My dreams seem impossible,

Not too practical,

Not for the cautious    

woman or man,

A little risky sometimes,

A trifle brash perhaps.

 

Some of my friends prefer

To rest more comfortably,

In sounder sleep,

With visionless eyes.

 

But for those who share my dreams,

I ask a little patience,

A little humor,

 

Some small courage,

And a listening heart.

I will do the rest.

 

Then they will risk,

And wonder at their daring

Run, and marvel at their speed;

Build, and stand in awe at the beauty

of their building.

 

You will meet me often as you work:

In your companions,

who share your risk;

In your friends, who believe in you enough to lend their own dreams,

Their own hands,  

Their own hearts,

To your building;

 

In the people who will find

your doorway,

Stay awhile, and walk away

Knowing they, too, can find a dream . . .

 

There will be sun-filled days,

And sometimes it will rain.

A little variety!

Both come from me.

 

So come now,

Be content.

It is my dream you dream:

My house you build;

My caring you witness;

My love you share;

And this is

the heart of the matter.  

Sister Charity, RGS - 1981

Advent Sit Meditation | Sunday, December 21 | Center for Action and Cont...

Breath Of Heaven (Mary's Song)

Winter woods ' whispers . . .

 

STOPPING BY WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING

 

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village, though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

 

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

 

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound’s the sweep

Of easy wind and down flake.

 

The woods are lovely, ark, and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

 

Robert Frost