Each of the four Sundays of Advent has its own special readings and characteristics: for this First Sunday, the readings look forward to the “End Times” and the coming of the “Day of the Lord;” the Gospel is an excerpt from the Apocalyptic Discourse of Jesus.

​Be watchful! Be alert! You do not know when the time will come.  It is like a man traveling abroad. He leaves home and places his servants in charge, each with his work, and orders the gatekeeper to be on the watch.  Watch, therefore; you do not know when the lord of the house is coming, whether in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or in the morning.  May he not come suddenly and find you sleeping.  What I say to you, I say to all: “Watch” (Mark 13:33-37)!

You do not know when the time will come.
We will never be able to find out when the end of the world will occur.  Its forever outside our knowledge, until its too late to plan for it, when it is upon us already.  Hence the importance of the season of Advent, where we benefit from a dry run for the Second Coming of Christ.  By preparing to celebrate Christ’s first coming, we’re conditioned/trained to do what is necessary to prepare for His Final Coming at the End of Time.

He leaves…his servants in charge, each with his work.
The servants are we Christians in our various roles:

• The laity (that’s us) have the task of keeping watch for the Lord, endeavoring to love and obey Him, and serve others out of love for Him by proclaiming the Good News and caring for the spiritually and physically afflicted;
• Bishops, as successors of the Apostles, are the “door keepers” with the primary responsibility for keeping watch in the Church. They do this by ensuring we hold fast to all Christ revealed to us, celebrate the sacraments, and shepherd us to heaven in order and peace.

Servants could also be the different virtues of a Christian; the gatekeeper stands for the virtue of prudence, which encompasses detachment, sobriety, expectation, and hope.

Watch! (Some translations say, “Stay awake!”)
St. John Henry Newman’s treatise on the Antichrist offers a compelling explanation of this word, “watch” or phrase, “stay awake:”

Such mediations as these may be turned to good account. It will act as a curb upon our self-willed, selfish hearts, to believe that a persecution is in store for the Church, whether or not it comes in our days. Surely, with this prospect before us, we cannot bear to give ourselves up to thoughts of ease and comfort, of making money, settling well, or rising in the world. Surely, with this prospect before us, we cannot but feel that we are…pilgrims, watchers waiting for morning, waiting for the light, eagerly straining our eyes for the dawn of day or looking out for our Lord’s coming, His glorious advent, when He will end the reign of sin and wickedness, accomplish the number of His elect, and perfect those who at present struggle with infirmity, yet in their hearts love and obey Him.

An Advent Hymn for Mediation
See below for: “Wake, O Wake, and Sleep No Longer.”

David J. Conrad

Happy New (Liturgical) Year!  Advent is the beginning of the new liturgical year in our Church, a change in season as we await the birth of our Lord.  We will begin singing all of our new Mass setting and use new musical acclamations. We will light the first candle of the Advent Wreath today; a tiny flame that begins to light up the winter’s longer darkness.

​The Sundays of Advent all have distinctive themes according to the Introduction to the Lectionary for Mass.  This First Sunday of Advent is about the Lord’s coming at the end of time and being prepared⎯which may also be a paradigm for being prepared for the birth of Christ at the end of Advent. We are told in the Gospel of St. Mark to “Be watchful! Be alert!”  We must be ready for God’s kingdom to break into this world; we wait in joy and hope for His coming at Christmas and at the end of time.

Everyone is so busy and will be busier as Christmas approaches: shopping, card-writing, parties, cooking, baking and decorating (I do not turn on my Christmas lights until the last few days just before Christmas). The challenge for us is to reflect on Jesus’ birth and second coming—and not be sooo busy that we miss the point of the reason for this Advent season.

We need to prepare for Christmas, so we must learn to wait and not be drawn into the secular world of Christmas now. An example of waiting for Christmas is like the bride who waits for her wedding, preparing and expectant, but not showing her dress ahead of time. Looking at Christmas’ coming in this way, we may learn to wait for the actual arrival of Christmas, and then we have a whole ‘season’ to celebrate that arrival! (I am always disturbed with 24-7 Christmas music being played on the radio before Halloween!)

​The Responsorial Psalm for this First Sunday of Advent is a petition to God to take tender care of us: “Lord make us turn to you and we shall be saved.” And so, we turn to Him, we await Him with hope and joy, we prepare for His coming, and we are saved. Advent is a time to try to listen carefully, to turn to God. St. Paul reminds us today that we will have everything we need (every spiritual gift) while we wait for the Lord. That is a good thing to remember the next time we feel the frenetic need to have Christmas now. O Come, O Come, Emmanuel! We are waiting, alert and awake as we watch for you.

Keep singing!

Elizabeth Dyc

An acquaintance of mine, Fr. Tim Ferguson, penned this poem about the supremacy of Christ over all state and political actors throughout human history. This weekend, as we celebrate the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, reflect often on this poem and keep in the back of your mind Christ’s consoling words as recounted in John’s Gospel: I have told you this so that you might have peace in me. In the world you will have trouble, but take courage, I have conquered the world (16:33).

​I have seen the crowds hail Caesar, and then call for Caesar’s head.
Praise the great king’s coronation, then drag his family from their bed.
I have watched as empires crumble, and successor states collapse;
Seen petty politicians draw and then redraw the maps.

I have watched as enslaved peoples throw their chains off to be free,
Then themselves become oppressors in their newfound liberty.
The crowds who danced with jubilation, as they victor’s triumph led;
Soon cry out for revolution, for rebellion, or for bread.

Through the centuries, I linger, as the nations rise and fall,
Sometimes favored, sometimes harried, sometimes large, but often small.
My allegiance never wavers, it is Thee, of whom I sing:
Thou alone are my True Master, Christ my Savior, Christ my King.

Praised be Jesus Christ! Now and forever. Amen.

David J. Conrad

The Thirty-Fourth or Last Sunday of the (liturgical) Year⎯Christ the King ⎯is filled with images of God’s care for us as He brings us safely home; His shepherding us to our final rest and judgment.  The second reading from St. Paul to the Corinthians is a reading commonly used for the Resurrection Mass (funerals). We are challenged by The Gospel of St. Matthew today in order to ask ourselves if we are indeed, prepared for final judgment ⎯and whether we will inherit the kingdom.

Mr. Paul Covino of Today’s Liturgy writes that this Feast of Christ the King was established in 1925 to “counter the destructive political forces of the age.  Instead of the promises and ideologies of particular political parties or the lure of consumerism, the king that Christians have pledged to follow is one who identifies with the poor and who will judge followers on what they did for these least ones. The king is described as a shepherd who promises to tend his sheep.” These are wise words of warning in this particular and partisan political climate…

The readings at the end of this liturgical year speak of our preparedness for the end times. We harvest the fruit of our life and labor and we witness the cessation of life in the onset of winter.  We await the return of spring and the rebirth of life⎯we look to the Advent of new beginnings and the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  Always there follows new life after death, thanks to the extraordinary mercy of God. Today we celebrate Christ’s victory over death and his reign now and in the life to come.

Next week we begin the season of Advent.  Several things change with the change of the liturgical season; our acclamations for the season, etc.  We will sing in this season of longer darkness of the coming of the Lord as the Light of the World. Please Save the Date of Sunday, December 10 at 4pm for the Advent Pageant: The Light of the World. This is the St. Aidan Music Ministry Christian Service Project to refill our food pantry for Christmas post the giving of Thanksgiving Baskets for the poor. Come and sing about the Light and help the poor and needy. Please be as generous as you are able. Thank you!

Keep Singing!

​Elizabeth Dyc

As we celebrate Thanksgiving Day with family and friends this week, let us express our gratitude to God for the great gift of freedom He has given us.  It is a gift that calls forth from us “responsibility and commitment to the truth that all [people] have a fundamental dignity before” God.  The best means by which we can express our gratitude to God, then, is “to have concern for every man, woman, and child, so that we may share [His] gifts in loving service.”  May our fellowship and feasting lead to the flowering of charity to all who come into our orbit of influence.

From the Mass offered on Thanksgiving Day, the Church prays after the reception of Holy Communion: “In this celebration, O Lord our God, you have shown us the depths of your love for all your children; help us, we pray, to reach out in love to all your people, so that we may share with them the good things of time and eternity.  Through Christ our Lord.”  May I suggest we incorporate this prayer into our expressions of thanks as we sit down to eat this Thursday.  It will remind us how to properly employ God’s great gift of freedom.

David J. Conrad

It is a biblical principle that if we are unable to handle the responsibility that God has given us, it can be taken away. Today (The Thirty-Third Sunday of Ordinary Time) we hear Jesus tell a parable in the Gospel of St. Matthew about three servants who were given money by their master. They were told to make use of it while their master was away. When he returned, two of them had used their “talents” and one had not. Jesus concluded the parable by saying: “For to everyone who has, more will be given, and he will grow rich; but from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away.”

​So—let’s talk about stewardship: time, talent and treasure. The word ‘stewardship’ comes from Greek and means to manage God’s house, and that we are God’s house. All that we have is a gift from God. The work of ministry boils down to two, powerful, and moving commitments: to serve and to give. Jesus taught this truth, and Jesus demonstrated this truth. As those who gather around the Lord's Table and share in the Communion that makes us one, we also hear the call of the Savior to remember Him by being His bodily presence—His hands, His feet, His voice, His hugs in this world by committing to serve and to give. This responsibility is conferred upon us by Baptism, and today’s scripture reminds us to “use it or lose it.”

Here is a music parable: An orchestra director was having a lot of trouble with one of his percussionists (drummers). He talked and talked and talked with the guy, but the drummer’s performance did not improve. Finally, in front of the whole orchestra, he said, “When a musician just can't handle his instrument and doesn't improve when given help, they take away the instrument, give him two sticks, and make him a drummer.” A whisper was then heard from the percussion section: “And if he can't handle even that, they take away one of his sticks and make him a conductor.”

I know that being human can mean that it is very easy to take what we have been given for granted—and that I need to remind myself that all that I have has been given to me by God to use for His glory. It is an exciting thought to realize that as I use what God has given me, He will bless me with even more opportunities for service in this field of souls. That is what is meant in the scripture today about growing rich: rich in love, rich in joy, rich in relationships. On the other hand, it is a sobering thought to realize that if I fail to make use of what I have been given, I may lose it. So, the question is: what are you doing with what God has given you? St. Paul tells us today that “the day of the Lord will come like a thief at night.” He reminds us to do what we may now. Food for thought.

Keep singing!

Elizabeth Dyc

I think we all recall the results of the 2019 Pew survey that found only 31% of Catholics believed in the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist. A new national survey, whose results were released this September 2023 by the Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate (CARA) at Georgetown University, found that of the 1,000 or so Catholics respondents, 9 out of 10 people who attended Mass at least once a week believe in the Real Presence. Heartening on its face, but that same survey found that only 17% of Catholics attend Mass weekly. It appears there is a direct correspondence between weekly Mass attendance and belief in Christ’s Real Presence in the Eucharist. How, during this time of Eucharistic Revival in our country, do we help so many of our fellow Catholics revivify (or come to believe for the first time) what the Church has received and taught concerning the Eucharist?

​We begin with what we understand the Eucharist to be. Christ is really present in the Eucharist – as present as He was to the disciples in the upper room after the crucifixion on Easter Sunday night (cf. John 20:19). This is admittedly difficult, since what we see with our eyes still looks like bread and wine. That’s why in the early 13th century the Church attempted to clarify what it meant to say by Christ’s “Real Presence:” although the accidents, or appearances, of bread and wine remain, the substance, or reality, is now the body and blood of Christ. Yes, it still looks like bread and wine, but Christ is truly present there.

​This belief in the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist, not merely “spiritually” - but really - has animated the Church from the very beginning - so much so that early pagans accused Christians of cannibalism.

Indeed, the faith of the Church is that Christ is even more intimately present to us than we would be to each other in the same room, since Christ is not only “out here” but “inside” us, with the power to transform us in ways that the presence of a fellow Catholic, although good, never can.

However, affirmation of the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist is based on another affirmation: belief that Christ was really present – present bodily – in the upper room following His Resurrection, as present as He was to the disciples during His earthly life before the Crucifixion.

This is also difficult to conceive of. The Gospel accounts make clear that it was difficult for the disciples as well. The doors and windows were closed and locked, but then He was there. So, naturally, they thought, “It’s a ghost!” But then the Gospels go out of their way to affirm that He wasn’t a ghost. He was there bodily. They touched Him; He asked for something to eat (cf. Luke 24:36-43). But then, all of sudden, He was gone again.

He was there bodily, but with a body that did not suffer the same limitations as ours; His physicality was transformed in the Resurrection. It is admittedly strange - unless, of course, He is truly God incarnate.

So this is our third factor to consider. God, the Creator of All Reality, became incarnate as a true, human person named Jesus at a certain moment in history. To be frank, this Christian affirmation is the most difficult for members of other religions to accept or respect. The transcendent God, they believe, simply can’t bring Himself so low as to become one, single human being who lived in a certain place at a certain moment in history. Something that big can’t become that small, they think. Something that powerful wouldn’t make Himself that weak. If the ancient world knew one thing, it was that gods can’t die. Claiming that your God showed His power by allowing Himself to be crucified is foolishness (cf. 1 Corinthians 1:23). When people looked at Him, what they saw was just another human being.

But Christians believe that God was really present - fully - in Him.

All that we have considered so far is based on what is perhaps the most radical claim of all: the One who is Creator of All Reality loves us, and loves us so much that He gave Himself fully and selflessly to us to restore and renew our sin-damaged humanity.

That, I surmise, is the root of the problem. It is hard enough to believe that there is a God who created the vastness and complexity of the universe, but to believe that He actually knows and cares for us is, for many people, simply too much to wrap their heads around.

There is no argument for the Eucharist here. These statements are simply meant to help clarify our current situation. Is the problem really belief in Christ’s Real pResence in the Eucharist, or do the doubts and difficulties start much earlier and go much deeper? It would make sense if they did.

But once you accept the fact that God loves us so much that He became incarnate as an actual human person with an actual, vulnerable, mortal human body, and died on a cross, then the possibility that He could change bread and wine would into Himself seems to be rather easy to accept. If God creates all of reality out of nothing (cf. Genesis 1); if He changes water into wine (cf. John 2:9), why is it so difficult for Him to change wine into blood (cf. Mark 14:22-24; Luke 22:19-20; Matthew 26:26-28; John 6:53-56)?

Perhaps these are the real questions we’re facing: Is the universe empty? Does anyone care? Is there any meaning in life, especially in the face of death? Let us commit, then, each in our own way within our particular spheres of influence, to give witness to the reality of the love of the Creator-God who became a human person, dying, and rising from the dead, for us. Then a revivification of belief, or belief for the first time, will be had in the Real Presence.

​David J. Conrad

It is now the month of November, the month of Remembrance. We have celebrated the Feast of All Saints and commemorated all the Faithful Departed (All Souls). Winter starts settling in as autumn’s colors fade to duller hues of gray and brown. Hints of winter’s coming chill shock our unsuspecting faces; we get out our winter coats from the back of our closets. We leave for work or school in the slow fade of the night’s darkness and we return home in the early evening’s dark embrace. From the beginning of November until late December, each day brings a longer darkness; each night descends with more haste. We live in this season of longer darkness.

​I personally have a hard time with the winter and dark—I, like many, suffer from SAD: Seasonal Affect Disorder. I feel very affected by the longer dark; I have a special lamp to shine upon me at home and I try to stay busy. Sometimes, though, we people of faith may find ourselves in a spiritual season of longer darkness. A job loss, an unwanted divorce, the death of a loved one, the lingering illness of someone precious, the diminishing reserves of retirement, the bitter loss of the mind’s ability, a grievous wounding by a friend, the spiritual failure of a hero... any of these and many more hurts can leave us in a personal season of longer darkness. In this darkness faith’s fire doesn’t burn as brightly, and its moments of shining don’t last as long. Life is much more a struggle and faith is very much a battle with our will.

So, how do we survive a spiritual season of longer darkness? Where do we find fresh hope to continue what seems like a long and arduous journey of faith? Look to your lamps!  Like the foolish virgins in Matthew's Gospel today, each of us holds a lamp that is going out.  The oil of the parable, this Thirty-Second Sunday of Ordinary Time, symbolizes the virtue and the interior illumination of those who have heard the Word of God and put it into practice. Is our jar filled with oil so that we may replenish it when we need to?  Do we have reserves to help fill the lamps of those around us? Have we filled the jar of our lives with things that will give no light to us or anyone else? We must keep our lamps filled and lit like the wise virgins of today’s Gospel. This will help us to endure the darkness before the dawn. How? We need to remember how God brings us blessings, even in the darkness.

Because life can be a struggle and the spiritual dimensions of our life a battle, we often miss touches of grace, the surprising moments of joy and delight. However, if we look closely we will find them! God joins us in the dimmest parts of our darkness, and holy Wisdom is our guide! In our darkest of our days He carries us and sustains us in so many ways: He sends a friend to help with an encouraging word or a needed rebuke; He supplies us with increased strength to weather our nighttime storms; He prevents an unseen attack from the evil one when we are most vulnerable; He answers hundreds of our prayers even when the one we most want seems to remain unaddressed; He speaks to us through his Spirit—filling our lamps in the songs we sing with other believers, and with words of Scripture when we open ourselves up to his Word. He pours his love into our hearts through his Spirit and strengthens us in ways we cannot know in response to the prayers of others on our behalf. We are not abandoned. No matter what our circumstances suggest, our God is faithful and has promised that the night will pass; we are not forsaken. No matter how long the night may seem, morning will come with its joy! So hold on if you are in this season. And if you, yourself, are not currently in the dark, please help someone else fill their lamps with the oil of salvation. Point them to the Light until their darkness passes.

And Keep Singing!

Elizabeth Dyc

Death - absent Christ - is soul-sucking.  In November, when we pray in an intensified way for those who have died, we find an opportunity to be reminded that death will someday come for us too, and the Christ to Whom we commend our beloved dead can help us find meaning in our eventual death and properly prepare for it.  In fact, because of Christ, death is God’s gift.  Rather than a drop into the abyss of nothingness, death is an exit to communion with God. For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.  If it is to be life in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. Yet which I shall choose I cannot tell.  I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better (Philippians 1:21-23).

​Prayer for a Good Death
O Jesus,  while I remember your dying breath, I beg you to receive mine. Since I do not know whether I shall have command of my senses when I depart from this world, I offer you now my last sufferings and all the sorrows of my passing. I give my soul into your hands for you are the Lover of Humanity my Lord and my Savior. Grant that the last beat of my heart may be an act of perfect love for you. Amen.

A Prayer for Those Who Have Died
In your hands, O Lord, we humbly entrust our brothers and sisters. In this life you embraced them with your tender love; deliver them now from every evil and bid them eternal rest. The old order has passed away: welcome them into paradise, where there will be no sorrow, no weeping or pain, but the fullness of peace and joy with your Son and the Holy Spirit forever and ever. Amen.

​David J. Conrad

Today, in the Gospel of this Thirty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time, we hear Jesus talk about the scribes and Pharisees—about how we should do as they say, not as they do. He instructs the people to do and observe what they say, but do not follow their example because “For they preach but do not practice. They tie up heavy burdens hard to carry and lay them on people’s shoulders, but they will not lift a finger to help them.”

​In the (First) Reading from the Book of the Prophet Malachi, God actually speaks of cursing those Church leaders who do not keep God’s ways: “And now, O Priests, this commandment is for you…” he talks about leadership that causes people to falter; and of not being Godly. Today we have “book-end” readings (First and Gospel) that speak of Church leadership that turns from God’s ways. We can easily point fingers at our own Church leaders, and sometimes we should (look at Boston and Kansas City!)—but, we need to remember that we are the Church! (We should also be reminded about pointing fingers…when we point, there are three fingers pointing back at ourselves…)

St. Paul today gives the paradigm, the example, of what leadership should be. He talks about gentleness, affection, and hard work in order to not be a burden. If our Church leadership does not practice what they preach, then Jesus tells us that we must do as they say, but not as they do.

This past week we celebrated All Saints; and today we will remember the faithful departed (All Souls at 5:00pm). The example of practicing what is preached is given by those famous saints we celebrated on their feast; and on All Souls, we remember those not-so-famous saints—our deceased family members and loved ones who led us in faith and loved us in life.

Jesus reminds us that we need to untie the burdens we lay on others and look to ourselves to be the example of saying and doing; of practicing our faith as preaching. (I always prefer a sermon I can see rather than one I hear…) God of Mercy give us the strength to always be a Reflection of Christ in the world.

Keep singing!

Elizabeth Dyc