Third Sunday of Advent @ Ss. Francis and Clare Parish, Birch Run

Third Sunday of Advent: The Long Game of Belief

The Crooked Sign

In the hit series Ted Lasso, an upbeat American football coach is hired to manage a British soccer team, a sport he knows nothing about. He enters a locker room filled with cynicism. The players are defeated; the ownership is hostile; the fans are angry. Ted doesn't give a grand speech about winning the championship. He walks into his office, takes a piece of yellow paper, writes the word 

BELIEVE 

on it in black marker, and tapes it—crookedly—above the door.

Ted’s method of transformation is not the "quantum leap." He doesn't fix the team overnight. He fixes the team through relentless, small, easy interactions. He brings the owner a small box of biscuits every morning. He learns the name of the towel boy. He acknowledges the players' feelings. He makes the act of being a team easy by removing the friction of ego and unkindness. Slowly, through these tiny atomic actions, the culture shifts.

The Doubt in the Darkness

Today is Gaudete Sunday—Joy Sunday. We light the rose candle. But the Gospel reading (Matthew 11:2-11) begins in a place that feels very far from joy.

John the Baptist, the fiery prophet we met last week, is now in prison. The wide-open sky of the Jordan River has been replaced by the damp stone of a cell. And in that darkness, John begins to doubt. He sends his disciples to Jesus with a heartbreaking question: 

“Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?”

John expected the Messiah to be a revolutionary. He expected the axe to fall now. He expected the Romans to be driven out and the Kingdom established in power. Instead, he hears reports of a carpenter from Nazareth who is wandering around preaching about lilies and sparrows. Jesus isn't fixing the world the way John thought He would. It’s too slow. It’s too small.

Jesus sends a message back to John. But He doesn't send a theological thesis. He points to the data: “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed... and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them.”

Jesus is validating the "long game." He is saying, "John, look at the fruit. The Kingdom isn't coming with an explosion; it is coming like a sunrise. It is coming through individual acts of healing and mercy. The desert is blooming, one flower at a time."

Atomic Action: Make it Easy

This brings us to the third law of Atomic Habits: 

Make it Easy.

We live in a culture that is obsessed with the "big win." We want to lose 30 pounds in a month. We want to become a saint in a weekend. When we set these massive, difficult goals, we almost always fail. Why? Because the "friction" is too high. It requires too much willpower to sustain.

James Clear argues that to build a lasting habit, you must reduce the friction. You must make the good behavior so easy that you can’t say no. He calls it the Two-Minute Rule: "When you start a new habit, it should take less than two minutes to do."

If you want to read the Bible, don't commit to an hour. Commit to one verse. If you want to pray, don't commit to the whole Rosary. Commit to one Hail Mary while you brush your teeth.

Application: The Farmer's Patience

The Church gives us St. James in the Second Reading (5:7-10) to reinforce this truth. James writes: 

“See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth,
being patient with it until it receives the early and late rains.”

A farmer cannot force a seed to grow. He cannot scream at the crop to make it faster. He can only do the small, repetitive, easy things: Water. Weed. Wait. The "early and late rains" refer to the specific climate of Palestine—the farmer is dependent on God’s timing. James tells us: 

“You too must be patient. Make your hearts firm.”

Isaiah, in the First Reading (35:1-6a, 10), uses similar imagery. He speaks of the desert bursting into bloom. But notice his advice to the people: 

“Strengthen the hands that are feeble, make firm the knees that are weak.” 

He doesn't say "run a marathon." He says "stand up." Strengthen the knees. Do the basic, easy thing.

This Gaudete Sunday, our joy comes from realizing we don't have to fix the whole world, or even our whole lives, by Christmas. 

We just have to take the next small step.

1. Lower the Bar for Prayer:
We often feel guilty because our prayer life isn't "monastic" enough. Make it easy. Put a prayer card on your dashboard. When you hit a red light, read it. That’s it. You have turned a frustration into a prayer. You removed the friction.

2. The Highway of Holiness:
Isaiah speaks of a “highway... called the holy way.” A highway is designed to make travel easy and direct. Look at your life: what makes charity hard? Is it that you never have cash? Put a $10 bill in your pocket specifically to give away this week. Make the act of generosity frictionless.

3. The "Believe" Sign:
Like Ted Lasso, we need to believe that these small actions matter. When you smile at a cashier, when you hold your tongue in an argument, when you say one "Our Father"—these are the raindrops that water the crop.

Jesus comforted John by showing him the small miracles. We comfort ourselves by doing the small acts of love. Don't look for the thunderbolt. Look for the bloom in the desert. Make it easy to love, and the joy will follow.

The Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception @ Ss. Francis and Clare, Birch Run

The Flawless Prototype

In the world of serious collecting, whether it’s vinyl records or comic books, there is one status that guarantees peak value and perfect condition: Mint in Box (MIB). 

This means the item is factory sealed, never opened, and utterly free from wear, creases, or damage. It is a piece of unblemished perfection, showing the object exactly as its producer intended it, before time or careless hands could intervene.

Today on the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception, we celebrate a reality far more profound than any collectible, but one that points to this same idea of Original Perfection. We celebrate the singular, extraordinary grace given to the Blessed Virgin Mary, by which she was preserved free from all stain of Original Sin from the very first moment of her conception. 

Mary was God’s "Mint in Box" masterpiece—the one human being whose inner architecture remained perfectly sealed against the corruption of the world.

The Broken Seal and the Eternal Blueprint

To grasp the necessity of this grace, we look first to Genesis (3:9-15, 20), to the tragedy of the Broken Seal. Adam and Eve commit the original sin, introducing a fundamental defect into human nature. There is shame, there is blame, and there is a wound of estrangement from God that every descendant inherits.

Yet, immediately, God promises a fix—the protoevangelium. He tells the serpent, 

“I will put enmity between you and the woman,
and between your offspring and hers;
he will crush your head.” 

God promised a New Eve, a woman whose Son would crush the serpent’s power. To stand in perfect, uncompromising enmity against the Evil One, this woman needed to be untouched by his influence.

This intervention wasn't a last-minute decision; it was the execution of God's eternal plan, revealed in our second reading from Ephesians (1:3-6, 11-12). St. Paul writes that God 

"chose us in him,
before the foundation of the world,
to be holy and blameless before him in love."

This was the blueprint: God’s original intention for humanity. Mary's Immaculate Conception is simply the perfect fulfillment of this plan. It is God applying the grace of Christ’s one sacrifice in advance, preserving her soul so that one human being could perfectly meet the standard: 

holy and blameless. 

Mary is that Flawless Prototype.

The Fullness of Grace and the Fiat

This perfect preparation is why the angel Gabriel greets Mary in the Gospel of Luke (1:26-38) not by her name, but by her state of being. He addresses her as: "Hail, Full of Grace!"

The Greek word here is Kécharitoménē, means "she who has been, and continues to be, perfected in grace." 

Mary is defined by grace. 

The Immaculate Conception is the only explanation for why she is already "Full of Grace" before she even accepts the mission. God had already filled her soul to the brim, preparing her to be a suitable dwelling place for His Son.

Because she was untouched by the disordered human tendency to doubt or fear—the effects of original sin—she was able to give the most beautiful and perfect fiat (Latin for "let it be done") in history: 

“Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord.
May it be done to me according to your word.”

 Her “Fiat,” her “Yes," was absolute.

A Call to Unbox Your Own Grace

For ourselves, we are not immaculately conceived. We are not Mary. We did inherit the consequences of the Fall. We have inherited Original Sin.

But through the one sacrifice of Christ, and the overwhelming grace poured out on us in Baptism, we have been thoroughly cleansed. We are, in Christ, declared holy and blameless, fulfilling that same eternal dream St. Paul spoke of. The original defect has been corrected by the perfect grace of the Redeemer.

Today, as we celebrate Mary’s perfection, we are called to recognize the grace God already given to us and to imitate her in her perfect response to God’s grace. Though we may feel scratched and dinged by sin and life, God constantly works to restore us to holiness.

Therefore, here is our challenge for the week:

1. Acknowledge Your Dignity:
   Thank God daily for the grace of your Baptism. Recognize that you are meant to be a holy and blameless dwelling place for Christ. Stop listening to anyone that tells you you are not.
2. Restore the Seal:
   Make a sincere Confession this Advent season. The Sacrament of Penance is God’s direct way of repairing the damage caused by personal sin, restoring your soul to its fullest potential for grace and strengthening your enmity with evil.
3. Say Your Daily Fiat:
   Identify one practical area in your life—in your home, at work, or in your prayer life—where you have been holding back your full "Yes" to God. In that moment of struggle or hesitation, make Mary's words your own: “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.”

Let the Immaculate One inspire us to be the people God created us to be—a holy and blameless family.

“O Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee.”

Second Sunday of Advent @ Ss. Francis and Clare Parish, Birch Run

Second Sunday of Advent: The Demolition Expert

The Joy of Demo Day

For several years, Chip and Joanna Gaines captivated the nation with their show Fixer Upper. The premise was simple but addictive. A couple would buy a house that was falling apart—rotting wood, bad plumbing, terrible layouts. It was a disaster. But Joanna would show them a sketch, a vision of what it could be.

And then came the part everyone loved: 

Demo Day

Chip Gaines, often wearing safety goggles and a grin, would take a sledgehammer and smash through a wall. He would rip up the nasty carpet. He would tear down the cabinets.

To an outsider who didn't know the plan, it looked like vandalism. It was violent, dusty, and destructive. But the audience watched with delight because we knew the secret: 

You cannot build the dream kitchen until you tear out the rot.

The demolition wasn't a punishment for the house; it was the necessary preparation for the beauty that was coming.

The Prophet with the Sledgehammer

On this Second Sunday of Advent, the Church introduces us to God’s demolition expert: John the Baptist.

In the Gospel of Matthew (3:1-12), John explodes onto the scene. He is not a polished real estate agent. He wears camel’s hair. He eats locusts. He stands in the Judean wilderness and shouts, 

“Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!”

John is the foreman of the project. He looks at the "house" of Israel—and the house of our own hearts—and he says, “This structure is unsound.” To the Pharisees and Sadducees, who were proud of their spiritual façade, he says, 

“You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath?” He warns that “the axe lies at the root of the trees.”

This is intense imagery. It sounds like punishment. And for many of us, the word "Repentance" feels exactly like that—a heavy, shameful chore. We hear John’s voice and we want to run away. We think of repentance as losing something we like, or admitting we are failures. It is unattractive.

Atomic Desire: Making it Attractive

This brings us to the second law of Atomic Habits by James Clear: 

Make it Attractive.

James Clear explains that human beings are motivated by the anticipation of reward. We do things because we crave the result. If a habit feels like pure drudgery, we won't stick with it. To build a new habit, we need to associate it with a positive feeling. This is often called "temptation bundling"—pairing something you need to do with something you want to do.

But in the spiritual life, we have to go deeper than just rewarding ourselves with a treat after Mass. We have to fundamentally reframe how we view the hard work of repentance. We have to see the "After" photo. We have to make the result of repentance so attractive that we crave the demolition.

This is exactly what the Prophet Isaiah does in the First Reading (11:1-10). Before John ever picks up the axe, Isaiah unrolls the blueprints.

Isaiah describes the world that the Messiah will bring. It is a world where: 

“The wolf shall be a guest of the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; the calf and the young lion shall browse together, with a little child to guide them.”

This is not just a nature documentary gone wrong; this is a picture of a soul at peace. Imagine your own heart for a moment. Imagine the "wolf" of your anxiety lying down next to the "lamb" of your trust. Imagine the "leopard" of your anger lying down next to the "kid" of your patience. Imagine the "lion" of your pride being led by the "little child" of your humility.

Isaiah describes a life where 

“there shall be no harm or ruin on all my holy mountain.” 

That is the vision! That is the dream house! When you see that possibility—a life free from the exhausting conflict of sin—suddenly, the sledgehammer of John the Baptist doesn't look so scary. Suddenly, repentance becomes attractive. We want to clear out the debris of our addictions and our selfishness because we want to make room for that kind of peace.

Application: The Vision of Hope

St. Paul, in the Second Reading (Romans 15:4-9), reinforces this. He says, 

“Whatever was written previously was written for our instruction, that by endurance and by the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.”

The demolition is for the sake of hope. Here is how we make repentance attractive this week:

1. Rename Your Confession:

Do not look at Confession as "the place where I tell the priest I'm bad." That is unattractive. Look at Confession as "Demo Day." You are taking the trash out to the dumpster so God can install the marble countertops of grace. You are removing the load bearing wall of pride so the light can get in. Focus on the feeling of lightness you have when you walk out of the confessional. Crave that feeling.

2. Focus on the Fruit:

John the Baptist warns against trees that don't bear good fruit. James Clear suggests we focus on identity. Who do you want to be? Do you want to be the person who is trusted by your family? Then the "axe" to your lying is attractive. Do you want to be the person who has energy and joy? Then the "axe" to your late-night doom-scrolling is attractive. Write down the vision of the person you want to be by Christmas. Keep that vision visible.

3. The Welcome:

Paul exhorts us to “welcome one another, then, as Christ welcomed you.” Renovation is hard work to do alone. We need a crew. Find a spiritual partner this Advent—a spouse, a friend—and remind each other of the vision. When one is tired of the construction, the other holds up the blueprint.

John the Baptist is loud, yes. He is intense, yes. But he is clearing the way for the Prince of Peace. Let us not be afraid of the dust. Let us pick up the axe, clear the way, and prepare our hearts for the masterpiece God wants to build.

First Sunday of Advent @ Ss. Francis and Clare Parish, Birch Run

First Sunday of Advent: The Splinter in Your Mind

The Red Pill Moment

In the 1999 science fiction classic The Matrix, there is a defining moment that has permeated our culture. The protagonist, Neo, sits across from Morpheus in a rainy, decaying room. Morpheus explains to Neo that he has been living in a dream world, a computer-generated simulation designed to keep him docile. He says, “You know something. What you know you can't explain, but you feel it. You've felt it your entire life, that there's something wrong with the world. You don't know what it is, but it's there, like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad. ”

Morpheus then offers the famous choice. The blue pill: you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. The red pill: you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes. The blue pill is the comfort of sleep; the red pill is the harsh, demanding, but liberating shock of reality. 

Today, on the First Sunday of Advent, the Church presents us with the Red Pill. The liturgical color changes to violet. The music shifts. The readings become stark. We are being asked to wake up from the simulation—the simulation of a world that tells us life is only about buying, selling, eating, and entertainment—and to confront the "splinter in our mind" that tells us we were made for God. 

The Sleep of the Good-Enough

The Gospel today from St. Matthew (24:37-44) is chilling, not because it depicts evil, but because it depicts apathy. Jesus compares the coming of the Son of Man to the days of Noah. We tend to imagine the people of Noah’s time as wicked monsters, but Jesus describes them quite differently. He says they were “eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage. ”

Think about that list. Eating. Drinking. Getting married. These are not sins! These are the fundamental goods of human life. They are necessary for survival and society. The tragedy of the people in Noah’s day wasn't that they were doing evil things; it was that they were so consumed by the good things that they became blind to the ultimate thing. They were so busy maintaining their daily routines that they didn't notice the storm clouds gathering. They were sleepwalking through life, right up until the flood came and carried them away. 

Jesus warns us: “So too, you also must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come. ” The danger for us in 2025 is the exact same. We are not necessarily fighting against paganism; we are fighting against the anesthetic of busyness. We are fighting the blue pill of comfort that tells us we have plenty of time. 

St. Paul, in the Second Reading from Romans (13:11-14), identifies this spiritual lethargy perfectly. He writes with the urgency of a man shaking a sleeping friend by the shoulders: “You know the time; it is the hour now for you to awake from sleep. ”

Paul contrasts the "works of darkness" with the "armor of light. " Interestingly, he lists "rivalry and jealousy" alongside "drunkenness and promiscuity. " Why? because rivalry and jealousy are the byproducts of a mind that is asleep to God. When we forget that our true citizenship is in heaven, we start fighting over the scraps here on earth. We need to wake up. 

Atomic Faith: Making it Obvious

So, how do we wake up? How do we take the red pill and stay awake when the entire world around us is screaming for us to go back to sleep, to buy more, to scroll more, to care less?

We can turn to a principle from James Clear’s book, Atomic Habits. The first law of behavior change is: 

Make it Obvious

Clear argues that our behaviors are largely responses to the cues in our environment. If you want to eat healthier, but you leave a jar of cookies on the counter, you will eat the cookies. The visual cue triggers the habit. Conversely, if you want to practice the guitar, but it’s hidden in the closet, you will never play it. To change the habit, you must change the environment to make the cue unavoidable. 

In the spiritual life, we often rely on willpower. We say, "I will just try harder to remember Jesus this December. " That is a strategy for failure. Instead, we must Make it Obvious. We must design our environment so that the reality of God is the first thing we see. 

The Prophet Isaiah gives us the ultimate visual cue in the First Reading (2:1-5). He describes a physical restructuring of the world: “The mountain of the LORD’s house shall be established as the highest of mountains. ” He describes a world where “swords are beaten into plowshares. ” These are tangible, visible changes. When the sword becomes a plow, you can’t miss it. The environment dictates a new way of living—one of peace rather than war. 

The Challenge: Redesigning Your Advent

This Advent, I challenge you to redesign your environment to make the "Red Pill" of faith obvious. 

1. The Visual Interrupt: In The Matrix, "glitches" were signs that reality was breaking through. Create holy glitches in your home. Do not just put the Advent wreath on the table as a centerpiece; put it in a place where it interrupts your flow. Place your Bible open on the coffee table, not closed on a shelf. Put a Rosary on top of your phone charger. Make it so that you literally cannot go through your day without bumping into a cue that says: Wake Up.   

2. The Digital Cue: We live on our screens. St. Paul tells us to “put on the Lord Jesus Christ.” In the modern world, this means we must curate what we see. Change your phone background to an image of the Nativity or a verse from today’s Gospel. Unfollow accounts that make you feel jealous or inadequate (the "rivalry" Paul warns against) and follow accounts that prompt you to pray. 

3. The Morning Anchor: The people in Noah’s day were swept away because they started their day with "eating and drinking. " Start your day with the light. Before you check the news, before you check the weather, light a candle. Say one prayer. Make the presence of God the most obvious thing in your morning routine.  

The world wants you to stay asleep. It wants you to be a consumer, a passive observer of the holiday season. But the Lord says, “Stay awake!” He is coming. The Mountain of the Lord is calling. Let us beat our swords into plowshares, our distractions into devotion, and walk in the light of the Lord.