“Love Is Repaid by Love”

 

Readings 122125 

Blessed be God.
Praise be to Jesus Christ, now and forever. Amen.

Come, Holy Spirit.
Fill us with joy.
Set our hearts ablaze with Your presence.

My friends, we stand on the edge of Christmas.
Just a few days now.
And the Church gives us this final Sunday of Advent to prepare our hearts—
not our houses, not our shopping lists—our hearts.
Because the Word of God is about to show Himself to the world.
Love made flesh.
Love that comes looking for us.

And this theme of love matters today more than ever.
Because, frankly, the world has forgotten what love really is.
We divide ourselves by politics.
We divide ourselves by labels.
We divide ourselves by identities we’ve built by our own hands.

And in all that that constant, deafening noise, we forget the one identity that gives every other part of life its meaning:
we belong to God.
We are His.
We are loved.
And love is repaid by love.

Isaiah gives us the first reminder.
He tells King Ahaz to ask for a sign—
as high as the sky, as deep as the netherworld.
But Ahaz refuses.
Not out of humility…
but because his heart is closed.
He doesn’t want a sign because he doesn’t want to change.

A closed heart cannot receive love.
A proud heart cannot be filled with God.
So God gives the sign anyway:
A virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and His name shall be Emmanuel—God with us.

God with us.(Think about that!)
Not God far away.
Not God waiting for us to get our act together.
God with us—
in our confusion,
in our divided world,
in our messy families,
in our tired hearts.

And Paul tells us why this matters.
We are “called to belong to Jesus Christ.”
Called to holiness.
Called to a different kind of life.
A life where love is not just a feeling…
but a response.
A repayment.
A giving back to the One who has given everything to us.

Then the Gospel brings us to Joseph.
Quiet Joseph.  Steady Joseph.
A man who loved God more than his own pride.

 A man who listened.
A man who made room.
He had every reason to walk away.
Every reason to protect his reputation.
But love asked something of him.
And Joseph repaid love with love.
He took Mary into his home.
He took the Child into his life.
And because he did, the world received its Savior.

So here is the question for us on this Fourth Sunday of Advent:
How much room is there in my heart for Christ?
How much space is left after pride…
after self-love…
after fear…
after the noise of the world?

Love wants to fill the valleys of our hearts.
Love wants to be faithful in great things and in small.
Love is always looking for a way to repay God’s infinite love.

But for that to happen, something in us must shift.
Something in us must surrender.
Something in us must echo the words of John the Baptist:
He must increase, and I must decrease.

My friends, Christmas is not about sentiment.
It is not about nostalgia.
It is about a God who comes close—
so close that He asks to live inside us.
And the only gift He wants…
is room.

So in these last days before Christmas, let us pray for the grace of Joseph:
a listening heart,
a humble heart,
a heart that makes space,
a heart that repays love with love.

Because Emmanuel is coming.
God is with us.
And love—true love—always deserves a response.

And remember this:
the world does not need louder Christians.
The world needs holier Christians.
Kinder Christians.
Christians whose lives make people wonder,
“Where does that peace come from?
Where does that mercy come from?
Where does that love come from?”

It comes from Emmanuel.
God with us.
God in us.
God shining through us.

So as Christmas draws near, let us ask for the grace to be like Joseph—
steady, humble, faithful.
Let us ask for the courage to be good.
The desire to be holy.
And the joy to preach the Good News of Jesus Christ
by the way we live our lives
and the way we love one another. 

Praise be to Jesus Christ, forever and ever. Amen.

Prayer Before Christmas: Room for Emmanuel
Blessed be God.
Praise be to Jesus Christ, now and forever. Amen.

Come, Holy Spirit.
Make room in our hearts.
Sweep away pride, fear, and noise.
Fill the empty places with Your light.

Teach us to listen like Joseph.
To welcome like Mary.
To love like Christ.

Emmanuel, You are God-with-us.
Come into our homes, our families, our lives.
Be born again in us.
And let our love repay Your love.

Amen.

“According to Your Word”

 

Readings 122025

When I was young,
I wanted success.
I wanted the world to bend
to my plans,
my timing,
my will.

And every time I chased my own way,
life grew heavier.
Doors stuck.
Peace slipped through my fingers.

But when I finally noticed
that God had been beside me all along—
quiet, patient, steady—
and I began to walk His way,
life didn’t suddenly get easier…
but it became fuller.
Richer.
More real.
Because I could finally see Him
moving in my days.

Now I stand again at a crossroads.
Discerning.
Listening.
Asking the old question:
Is this my will
or God’s?
Is He shifting my circumstances,
or am I simply tugging the reins again?

The saints remind us:
union with God
is not found only in sweet prayer,
but in embracing His holy will—
in work,
in family,
in the ordinary hours of the day.
Wherever we stand,
His will can be done.
And where His will is embraced,
there is no danger of drifting from Him.

Ahaz refused a sign,
but God gave one anyway—
a virgin with a child,
Emmanuel,
God‑with‑us.

And Mary,
troubled yet open,
heard the angel say,
“The Lord is with you…
Do not be afraid.”

She asked her question,
then surrendered her life:
Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord.
May it be done to me according to your word.

My life is busy.
My days are full.
But my soul knows the one thing necessary:
to stand with Mary,
to breathe with Mary,
to say with Mary—
today,
in this moment—
Lord, let Your will be done in me.

Prayer

Lord,
You know how easily
my heart runs after my own will.

Bend me back to You.
Steady my steps.
Quiet my fears.

Teach me the freedom
of surrender,
the peace
of trusting Your hand,
the joy
of walking in Your will.

With Mary I pray:
Here I am, Lord.
Let it be done in me
according to Your word.

Amen.