Ordinary Time 3
January 25, 2026
Remnant from the Rubble
When the
atomic bomb hit Hiroshima in 1945, the entire town was leveled, except for one
building: the Catholic Church, which stood tall despite being in the epicenter
of the blast – and the eight priests who were having breakfast in the rectory
next door were not only unharmed, but never once suffered the effects of
radiation poisoning.
Or who
can forget the iconic image of the fallen World Trade Center, where above the
rubble stood an iron cross standing tall, a symbol of God’s triumph over death?
Or consider the certain types of pinecone, which can only open when there’s a
forest fire – after the forest has become a bed of ash, the sprouts of new life
are rejoicing in the sunlight.
Throughout
human history, God has brought about great deeds amidst devastating tragedies.
We see it in our scriptures today, in the course of the last century, and in
our own lives. Let’s unpack those three loci of God’s saving work.
First,
in the Scriptures. Both the First Reading and Gospel speak about the land of
Zebulun and Napthali “walking in darkness and gloom.” Why is that? Zebulun and
Napthali were two of the twelve tribes of Israel. Their land was in the far
north, bordering pagan territory – which was a dangerous place to be when the
surrounding nations were hungry for conquest. In 722 BC, the Assyrians
devastated the land and murdered or captured these two Israelite tribes. For
two centuries they were scattered to the ends of the earth, wondering if God
had forgotten them. Finally, the small remnant that remained were allowed to
return home, but they had to live shoulder-to-shoulder with the pagan peoples
who had moved in during the interim. So during Jesus’ day, this region of
Galilee was filled with an oppressed people, still questioning God’s protection
and love, every day having to pass by pagan temples and neighbors who
worshipped false idols. It was a sad and sorry state – but it is precisely
here that Jesus makes the hub of His ministry! Do you think God is trying
to send a message – that He is raising up something new in the midst of a
devastated land?
All
throughout human history, God has moved powerfully in times of greatest
distress. The Fall of the Roman Empire was a tragedy, but it gave a space for
Christendom to flourish (“Christendom” refers to a widespread Christian culture
and nations, which we certainly saw throughout the Middle Ages down through the
modern time). The Protestant Reformation rocked the Catholic Church, but it
gave us an opportunity to make some much-needed reforms so that the Church
became stronger and holier. We can only see it by hindsight, but we can trace
the actions of God’s Providence raising up new, surprising things in the wake
of a devastation.
So, let’s
apply that to our modern world. I have frequently asked some of our more senior
parishioners if life is better in the 2020s then when they were growing up in
the 1940s and ‘50s, and every single one has told me that life was better “back
then”. I don’t want to romanticize the past, because there were many flaws in
our country and culture, but it is safe to say that we are seeing the decline
of Western Civilization. We no longer live in a Christian culture. We’ve lost
the tight-knit communities we once had. We can’t assume that most people have
faith in God, or that our laws will respect the Christian view of the human
person, marriage, or other basic fundamental realities.
So we
can despair of what was lost…or we can find out what God is doing now to bring
forth new life after destruction. In the waning days of the Roman Empire, a
young man traveled to Rome to begin his studies – and was disgusted by the
vice, intrigue, and licentiousness he encountered. But he knew the rot within
the Empire was too far gone to save, so he instead fled to the mountains and
gathered other men around him, where they would live a life of prayer, manual
labor, and study. This man was St. Benedict, who founded the first monasteries in
Western Europe. When the illiterate Barbarians sacked Rome, it was only the
monks who kept books and learning and schools alive – we owe them gratitude for
preserving faith and knowledge during some very dark years!
And
perhaps we are called to do that too. We won’t bring back Christendom. Barring
some miracle, I don’t expect God to return to the public square, or for
Christianity to make a huge rebound (although we see hints of a revival in our
parish of St. Jude!). But God is raising up other things that are exciting and
counter-cultural. For example, there is a movement afoot to start classical
Catholic schools – schools that are serious about their Catholic identity. I
teach at one in Stamford, and a new one called Chesterton Academy is opening in
New Haven in the fall. We see a resurgence in interest in Eucharistic
Adoration, as most parishes in our diocese have some hours of Adoration weekly
(we have 12 hours every week) while at five places, including St. Theresa’s in
Trumbull, there is Adoration 24/7. Just two weeks ago a man in our parish told
me he’s gathering a group of other men to do a Bible Study together. Brilliant!
The possibilities are endless – and God is putting these desires on hearts, to
raise up movements for the Kingdom. John Paul II put it best when he said,
“[There will be a] new springtime of Christian life if Christians are docile to
the action of the Holy Spirit.”
As true
as this is on a macro scale in our culture, it’s equally true on a micro scale
in our lives – God often does something surprising and new when our personal
lives are in shambles, too. That which appears to be a disaster is often our
saving grace.
In the
1100s, Ireland was a constant battleground between tribes and clans. Two tribes
were at war with one another, when, in a horrible act of vengeance, a chief
captured the 10-year-old son of the other chief. This poor boy was put in
prison for two years as a hostage, basically starved, until a local Catholic
monk heard about the boy’s poor treatment and demanded that he be released. The
chief agreed and released the boy to the monk’s care, and the boy in his
gratitude began to learn about the monk’s Catholic faith. When his war-loving
father came to pick him up to return home, 12-year-old Lawrence decided to stay
with the peaceful monk and study for the priesthood. He was later ordained a
priest, then the abbot of the monastery, and eventually the Archbishop of
Dublin. We now know him as St. Lawrence O’Toole – the result of God bringing
immense good out of a truly tragic situation.
And when
you look back over your own life, do you not see the same? It’s often said that
God can make a test into a testimony and a mess into a message. Those things
that hurt us so badly – it was then that we found strength in our faith. Having
to deal with that difficult person forged us in the virtue of charity and
patience. Dealing with addictions has brought us to a humble trust in God’s mercy.
That loss of a job led us to find God’s will in a new way.
My
friends, this is one element of what Jesus means when He says that the Kingdom
of God is at hand. God is ultimately King of the earth and King of our lives,
and He is orchestrating all things for His glory. All we are called to do is
trust Him, and follow Him with wholehearted faith like Peter and Andrew, James
and John…for God is on the move!
