Homily For Christmas Mass With CAS Staff

HOMILY FOR CHRISTMAS MASS WITH CAS STAFF
St. Mary’s Cathedral Crypt

The composer Arnold Schoenberg, notorious for his atonal music, once famously said that ‘my music is not lovely’. In my opinion, he was right. But he insisted that there can be a beauty in music comes from the development of an unlovely theme. As the theme is repeated but extended or compressed, modulated or otherwise changed while remaining an identifiable thread running through the piece, it gives the music form and meaning. We might think of the way the first two lines of God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman are almost exactly the same, but differ just enough to give the song momentum to carry it forward. Thus, for Schoenberg, the power of music – or at least his kind of music – is its ability to blend repetition and innovation, until it culminates in a final powerful restatement of the theme in a new form.

Which makes God a composer after the heart of Schoenberg – even if He also has great melodies! For one of the ways He makes the music of salvation history is to repeat calls and themes, but with variations. In our readings today (Jgs 13:2-7, 24-25; Lk 1:5-25) we meet two infertile wives. An angel of the Lord appears to Manoah’s wife, as to Zechariah. Manoah’s wife and son Samson are told to renounce alcohol as a dedication to God (cf. Num ch. 6); Zechariah’s son is to do the same. Manoah’s boy is grow his hair and beard long; when the Baptist appears, he too will dress in animal fur and plenty of his own. Samson is to rescue Israel from the Philistines, while John to call Israel to repentance from their sins. The boy Samson grows and is blessed and spirit-driven; so, too, the boy John.
The echoes are many. But there is not just parallel, there is progress. Manoah’s wife is not identified; Elizabeth is named and celebrated. Manoah’s angel is unnamed; Zechariah’s is known and befriended as Gabriel. Manaoh’s wife is told Samson “will begin to rescue Israel” – the completion of that rescue is yet to come…

I said that Schoenberg’s musical themes are repeated not just twice but multiple times; so there are many accounts in the Scriptures of a barren wife, an angelic messenger, a miraculous conception, a wonderous birth, a child of great promise. We think of Isaac born to infertile Abraham and Sarah; of the twins Esau and Jacob born to barren Rebekah and Isaac; and of Samuel born to childless Elkanah and Hannah (Gen 18:1-21:1-7; 25:21-6; 1Sam ch.1). But the climax to this recurrent theme is, of course, the births of John and Jesus.

The parallels are again many. We have two annunciations, one to Zechariah, which we heard today (Lk 1:5-25), another to Mary, which we’ll hear tomorrow. Both respond with fear at first. Miraculous conceptions follow. Troubles surround the pregnancies. Then there are more miracles.

There are clear echoes, then, but progress also. Elizabeth is getting on in years and so represents the Old Israel; Mary is a teenager and represents the New. Mary believesand Joseph cooperates, where Zechariah did not. The story so often told and retold in the lives of the faithful winds to its apogee in the birth of Jesus-Emmanuel, God-made-boy.

But first, today, Zechariah is struck dumb: the Priest who speaks to God and for God speaks no more. His last words made him the anti-Mary: where she asked “How can this be done?” and the accepted the angelic explanation, he says “How can I be sure?” and put God to the test. Give me proof, give me a sign, he demands. But as a priest he should have known, better than anyone: he knew the stories of Isaac, Jacob, Samson and Samuel.

So God shuts him up. This might seem a rather heavy-handed punishment by an irritated God, but it’s a gift. If you went to the Christmas Concert at St. Mary’s Cathedral last Friday, and instead of letting the musical themes make their way through your head and heart you spent the whole time daydreaming about your undone Christmas shopping or what you’d have for dinner, or angsting about the awfulness going on in Church and society right now, or texting or updating your Facebook  – then you were missing out on the beauty right in front of you. Zechariah can’t hear the theme of God’s symphony being played out before him, because he’s too busy talking over it.

So God kindly shuts him up. Long enough to force him to listen up for a bit. Zechariah’s physical quiet manifests a hard-won interior attentiveness. Where he’s a natural speaker, Mary is a natural listener: she ponders things in her heart. Zechariah learns the hard way that receptiveness which we’ll see tomorrow comes so naturally and supernaturally to Mary.

My collaborators and friends, in your service to the Church you have all helped to echo and develop and perform the theme of salvation and its many variations this year past. Unlike Zechariah, making his demands of God, you’ve been like Mary receiving, trusting, pondering, repeating. God keeps playing His music in your ear and you in turn play it for the world through the many works of leadership and service that you perform.

But amidst all the busyness of our attempts to get it all done before the summer break, our Gospel today challenges us to take some time to imitate the silence of Zechariah and the receptiveness of Mary, to hear the melody of love, peace, hope and joy the Father sings to you in this season through His angels. Recharge your spiritual batteries, and know that I could not be prouder nor more grateful to have such a team, especially in these very difficult times for our Church. Thank you to you all. May God bless you and your loved ones in the holy season ahead.