“This is the Name They Give Him,” December 18, 2019

Fr. Roger J. Landry
Visitation Mission of the Sisters of Life, Manhattan
December 18 Mass
December 18, 2019
Jer 23:5-8, Ps 72, Mt 1:18-25

To listen to an audio recording of today’s homily, please click below: 

The following points were attempted in the homily: 

• “This is the name they give him,” the Prophet Jeremiah says today. A name is essential for us to enter into interpersonal dialogue. Today we encounter five different names, names we give to God, names God gives to himself. Each of them helps us to relate to God more deeply as the names complement and deepen our understanding of God, how he wishes us to interact with him and how he wishes to have us grow in his image and likeness.
• The first two names come from today’s O Antiphon, which influences how we’re supposed to live this day of Advent longing and how we’re supposed to hear and receive the Word of God announced to us in Mass. The Latin is O Adonai et Dux domus Israel, qui Moysi in igne flammae rubi apparuisti, et ei in Sina legem dedisti: veni ad redimendum nos in brachio extento, which is literally translated, “O Lord and Leader of the House of Israel, who appeared to Moses in the burning bush and gave him the law on Sinai: come to redeem us with outstretched arm!” We refer to God today as both  “leader of the house of Israel” and “Adonai” (Lord), means not just of Israel but of everyone, pointing to how Jesus came to redeem not merely the Jews but all nations. We remember how this God revealed himself as Lord of all to Moses in the burning bush, identifying himself as “I am who am” (Yahweh in Hebrew), the one gives existence to every creature. This name was so holy that only the high priest would utter it, once a year, in the Holy of Holies. The Jews would substitute “Adonai” for it, “Lord,” but use it to refer to the same reality as Creator and life-giver. But he was also the leader of the house of Israel, who specially blessed the Jews with the Covenant on Mt. Sinai featuring the commandments. Therefore, we both Jews and non-Jews, turn to him and ask him to redeem us with his outstretched arm. The image is of someone saving us from falling off a cliff, or reaching in to the water to pull us up as we’re drowning. And the three-fold way the antiphon implies he will save us is through prayer (dialogue with God as seen in the burning bush), the moral life (shown in the commandments which train us to love), and ultimately the Cross (when Jesus stretched forth his arms to save us).
• These thoughts help us to approach the real drama contained in the readings where we find the other three titles. In the Gospel, we get both “Emmanuel” and Jesus.” Emmanuel means “God-with-us” and Jesus means, “Yahweh saves.” The Lord and leader of the House of Israel comes to be with us in the incarnation precisely in order to save us. We see this salvation depicted in the first reading. The prophet Jeremiah describes how, in the days of the  “righteous shoot” to David,  “Judah will be saved.” Just as God redeemed Israel from slavery in Egypt, so he would redeem Israel again from the “lands of the north,” which refers not only to Assyria and Babylon to which many of the Jews were forcibly brought after conquering Israel, but much more broadly to those in other lands, since with the exception of Egypt, most of the other known inhabitants were located north of the Holy Land. The Lord would save them from them all. In the Gospel, when the Angel reveals what St. Joseph is to call Mary’s son, he says that the child will be called “Jesus,” “God saves,” precisely because “he will save his people from their sins.” Jesus was coming to rescue us at the last second with outstretched arms, as if we were hanging for dear life off the roof of a tall building. This point about salvation is really important. To relate to Jesus means to relate to him as Savior, savior from our sins and what they lead to, death. Whenever we call upon his name, we’re remembering our need for salvation.
• The fifth title, the one that is given after Jeremiah says, “This is the name they give him,” is “Justice.” The Jews will say, “The Lord our Justice.” The Messiah would be the “righteous shoot” from the stump of Jesse and he would come to make us right with God, to help us ad-just to him and his holy will. Today in the Gospel we also have the chance to ponder St. Joseph, also of the house and lineage of David, and how he would be righteous as well. St. Matthew, inspired by the Holy Spirit, calls him in the Gospel, “just.” We know that as soon as Mary had received the appearance of the Archangel Gabriel saying that she would become the mother of the Son of God, she “went with haste” to visit her cousin Elizabeth and care for her at least for three months through the end of her pregnancy and likely for a few months afterward. Despite much Christian art to the contrary, it’s highly unlikely that St. Joseph accompanied her, because that would mean he would give up his carpentry work at the very time he was supposed to be working to provide a home for both of them so that they could begin to live together. (In Jewish matrimonial customs, a couple was first engaged, then they expressed consent before a rabbi or priest and were married, but they wouldn’t live together for at least another year or so until the husband had earned enough money for their cohabitation and for their eight-day wedding reception. The Angel Gabriel appeared to Mary during this time between the marriage (betrothal in the ancient sense) and their “living together.”  So Mary almost certainly didn’t travel with Joseph, but likely traveled with others from her village who were making the 60 mile trek to Jerusalem, since Ein Karim, where Zechariah and Elizabeth lived was only a couple of miles beyond that down hill. When she returned three to six months later, Joseph would have been shocked to see that Mary was very pregnant with child. We can only imagine the sense of betrayal he would have initially felt as he would have thought she must have become pregnant while she was away. Doubtless they talked about it. Joseph naturally would have been as slow to believe the story that his wife was actually still a virgin — that she was not impregnated by a man at all, but that God had sent an angel to announce that the Holy Spirit would impregnate her — as you would be if a young person you know told you the same reason for why she was now pregnant. St. Matthew tells us that St. Joseph was a “righteous man,” he was a man who lived by the law, but he was at the same time unwilling to expose her to shame or the penalty for adultery, which would be death by stoning. So he decided to divorce her quietly, which was a response of justice and mercy. That’s when an angel appeared to him in a dream and confirmed for him that what Mary had told him was true.
• We can ask the important question: why did God wait to reveal his plans to Joseph? Why didn’t the angel simply come to him after he had gone to Mary’s house to clue him in on the plans? Why didn’t he appear to him at least right before Mary’s return or with him? Why did the Lord allow him to experience the depth of the agony of what appeared to be Mary’s betrayal of her covenant with God and with him? It’s precisely so that we can learn from Joseph’s response. We see his justice even and especially in agony. We also see his obedience to the Lord in a dream, something even before Freud could have easily been deconstructed and disobeyed, yet he did obey. He wasn’t mellowing in self-pity, but always still open to God, such that when the angel appeared in a dream, he acted as soon as he awoke. We learn a great deal from this. When the long awaited Adonai and Leader of the House of Israel, God-with-us, the Just One, came into our world to save us, he didn’t make everything tranquil. He disturbed. He made things terribly inconvenient for Mary and for Joseph. What he asked of them made them suffer. Salvation wasn’t easy. It was going to involve their sacrifices, their misunderstandings and being misunderstood, their leaving their homes, their escaping to Egypt, their having their own hearts pierced with spiritual swords and so much more. And that’s a truth that all of us have to grasp. When Mary’s Son eventually grew up and began preaching — even though he was the Prince of Peace, even though the angels at his birth had proclaimed “peace on earth to people on whom his favor rests” — he said that he had come not to bring peace but the sword and from now on houses and families would be divided, three against two and two against three (Lk 12:52). He was going to bring difficulty. Salvation is messy and the Savior was going to involve us, like he involved Mary and Joseph, in his messy messianic work. So as we get ready to celebrate Christmas, and more generally focus on the Christian life, we shouldn’t anticipate that we’re in for an easy ride. We may have lots of interruptions, distractions, illnesses, pains and many other daily contradictions. But we need to be ready, as we’re saved with outstretched arms, to stretch out our arms in love toward God and toward others.
• In a few minutes, as soon God-with-us-to-save-us-from-our-sins appears on this altar, we will proclaim the mystery of faith. We will turn to him and say, “Save us, Savior of the world!” The redemption we long for and pray for is actually fulfilled here at every Mass. Today as we proclaim that great mystery, let us recommit ourselves to our prayer, to our living the covenant by keeping his commandments of love, and by stretching out our hands to him who stretches his out to us and through us to a world very much still in need of redemption! This is the Lord our Justice, our Lord, the leader of the house of Israel, the one who spoke in the burning bush, the one who gives us the commandments and the new commandment, God-with-us and now God-within-us!

The readings for today’s Mass were: