My dear brothers and sisters, one absolutely unique doctrine of our Catholic faith is the incarnation. The incarnation is the doctrine that God, in order to redeem the fallen world, became man. Jesus Christ is, as we profess every week in the Creed, true man, and also true God.
He is the son of Mary, and also the eternal Son of God. Before that amazing day two thousand years ago when the Archangel Gabriel visited the Blessed Virgin Mary and she conceived of the Holy Spirit, God was far away. He governed the universe and watched over the human family, but he did it from a distance, so to speak.
Certainly, he sent prophets to Israel and provided special guidance to his Chosen People of the Old Testament. But when the Second Person of the Holy Trinity became man in the womb of the Virgin Mary, a whole new era began. That's why we date human history according to two different standards: BC and AD. BC was before Christ; AD is "anno Domini," from the year of Our Lord, the year in which God came to dwell among us. God became actively present inside his own creation.
Even the old myths about gods interacting with men never conceived of the possibility that the one true God, Creator of all things, would love us so much that he would actually become incarnate, become one of us. That God would take a deaf-mute by the hand, lead him away from the crowds, touch him on the tongue and ears, and - in such a human, physical way - cure him, thus fulfilling the wonderful prophecies that we heard in the First Reading. That God himself would get dirty in order to make us clean: this is Christianity; this is a uniquely and marvellously Catholic view of God.
The Flowing Testimony of St. Januarius
The lives of the saints are full of similar signs, remarkable events that remind us of God's active, personal presence in the world and his active, personal interest in our lives. Later this month, we will celebrate the memorial of St Januarius, whose history gives a double reinforcement to this beautiful truth of our faith.
He was a bishop in southern Italy, in a city called Benevento, and was martyred along with seven companions in the year 302. The holy bishop risked his life to visit and encourage his fellow Christians who had been imprisoned for their faith at the start of the Emperor Diocletian's vast and violent persecution.
He was spotted, reported, and apprehended. He was interrogated, tortured, humiliated, and then thrown in prison with the rest. They were all condemned as enemies of the state (they wouldn't worship the Roman gods) and sentenced to be torn to pieces by wild beasts.
They accepted their sentence and stayed firm in their faith. When the animals were let into the arena, much to the shock and disappointment of the crowd who had gathered to enjoy the spectacle, the beasts sat calmly on their haunches, entirely uninterested in the free lunch. The guards were unable to stimulate their appetite; finally, the governor had to have the saints beheaded.
It seems that some of the bishop's blood was preserved as a relic by the local Christians. That very blood, still preserved in a coagulated state in a transparent reliquary, liquefies each year on his feast day. It has done so at least for the last 500 years (the recorded history of the miracle).
Januarius's faithfulness under fire was the first sign that God was with him, and the yearly liquefaction is, as it were, is an annual reminder of the supernatural source of his courage. It's as if God is determined not to let us forget about his tireless action in the world.
Renewing Our Hope
This is why we can be certain that discouragement never comes from the Holy Spirit: for the Catholic, hope is not a dream, but a reality. This is relevant to our lives especially in two ways. First, in regard to our own interior struggles.
Often, we seem to be stuck in our spiritual lives, unable to advance, incapable of overcoming certain defects or - sinful habits. Sometimes we allow this difficulty to morph into discouragement. That's exactly what the devil wants, because discouragement leads us to slack off in our efforts to follow Christ, to practice self-discipline, and to live a vibrant life of prayer.
That's when the devil can make a bold move on us, luring us into a sinful relationship or activity that actually obstructs the flow of God's grace in and through our lives. That's why when we hear discouragement knocking at the door, or when we seem to have reached a spiritual plateau, we need to let Christ take us "off by ourselves away from the crowd" to renew our interior hearing. This can mean going on retreat, or simply taking some extra -quiet time to be with the Lord.
Second, God's active and determined presence in the world gives us unbounded hope for others. No soul is too hardened to be transformed by Christ's love and forgiveness. The greatest sinners often make the greatest saints. Though someone appears deaf to the Word of Life and unable to respond to the invitations of the Holy Spirit, our confidence must never be shaken, for Jesus "makes the deaf hear and the dumb speak."
As we continue with this Mass, let's renew our confidence in this incarnate God who is so active in the world, letting him touch our wounded hearts, and praying for those who no longer pray for themselves.