​Dear People of St. Blase, All Sisters and Brothers in Christ Jesus,
 
For the Third and Fourth Sundays of Lent, we provided a prayer service via social media.  Adhering to the stay-at-home order means being unable to do the same for the Fifth Sunday of Lent.  It is imperative, for everyone’s health and safety, that we comply with that order.  So, we will be attempting something a little different. We are preparing a “Facebook live” prayer on Sunday morning at 11:00. (So watch our Facebook page!) From three different locations we will bring together a prayerful reflection for this coming Sunday.  This allows everyone to remain safely in their homes, while providing us with an opportunity to pray together in spirit as a community.  Hopefully, technology will cooperate.  I encourage to join us in song, prayer and reflection and invite others to do the same.
 
We are all, by no choice of our own, fasting from the Eucharist at this time.  I join you in the heartfelt and disturbing absence of receiving the Body and Blood of Christ.  Archbishop Vigneron has reminded us of our Catholic practice of making a “spiritual reception” of Holy Communion.  In his own words, “It has long been a Catholic understanding that when circumstances prevent one from receiving Holy Communion, it is possible to make an Act of Spiritual Communion which is a source of grace.  Spiritual Communion means uniting one’s self in prayer with Christ’s sacrifice and worshipping him in his Body and Blood. The most common reason for making an Act of Spiritual Communion is when a person cannot attend Mass. Acts of Spiritual Communion increase our desire to receive sacramental Communion and help us avoid the sins that would make us unable to receive Holy Communion worthily.” So, to make a spiritual communion we enter into prayer mindful of meal, memorial and sacrifice of the mass, and open ourselves to receiving Christ in spirit.
 
A prayer for Spiritual Communion
 
My Jesus, I believe that you are present in the Most Holy Sacrament. I love you above all things and I desire to receive you in my soul. Since I cannot at this moment receive you sacramentally, Come at least spiritually into my heart. I embrace you as if you were already there and unite myself wholly to you. Never permit me to be separated from you. Amen.
 
In addition, I encourage you to embrace the presence of Christ who comes to us in the Sacred Scriptures, the Word of God. The same Holy Spirit, who transforms bread and wine into the Body and Blood of Christ, also transforms us so that, as we pray and ponder the Word of God we encounter the risen Lord who is present to us.  We ourselves are the Body of Christ.  I urge you to continue being that body through reaching out to one another, by remembering the sick, first responders and those who are facing this pandemic with far less resources and far more vulnerabilities than are we.  Lastly, as signs of spring are emerging, welcome the Lord of creation whose temple is the earth itself.  In the midst of uncertainty and fear, observe and honor the presence of holiness which envelopes us and upholds us.  Ours is truly a world of grace.
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Fr. Randy Phillips

You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world. 

 I find this passage in Matthew's gospel rather challenging preach. In the Gospels of Mark and Luke, Jesus speaks the same words but he uses them in a very particular context, which readily allows us to comprehend how he is using them. Matthew gives us no such context. Jesus is preaching The Sermon on the Mount and simply seems to throw out this expression that we are salt for the Earth, Light of the World. is it just kind of sits there. And yet, it is a phrase and image which has attached itself into our Collective memory. You know these words. We know this expression. And I cannot help but wonder as I think of Matthew and his own context, knowing that Matthew is the only one of the four gospels really rooted in Judaism, if perhaps Matthew is being very stylistically Jewish in this case. That is, using two different images to re-enforce one meaning. We find that all over the pages in the Old Testament. It is simply a traditional way of Jewish expression. For example, the psalmist sings, “If I forget you, Jerusalem, let my right hand wither and my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth.” Now, the psalmist is not literally hoping for two physical handicaps. The point the song is making is that if I forget Jerusalem, I forget who I am. I lose my identity. Two images, one point. And it occurred to me that perhaps Matthew is doing the same here.

 In Jesus's day, as in our own, salt has a variety of uses. Including being used as fuel. Even today, if you travel to the Holy Land, and take the road north from Jerusalem, you'll notice that many of the homes on the side of the road have these brick ovens outside next to them. Those brick ovens are part of a custom that is ancient. In fact, in Jesus' day, each village had their own common oven. And the fuel for that oven was something more plentiful and easy to obtain rather than would, because wood is not plentiful in the Middle East. So what was used is camel or donkey dung. And, yes, one of the duties of every young girl as she grew up was to learn to go out and collect the camel or donkey dung, mix it with salt, and form patties that would dry out in the sun. 

That still takes place in many developing countries today. Dung mixed with salt is their fuel. A slab of salt is placed at the base of these clay ovens, The patty was laid on it. And the salt block would act as a catalyst, helping the dung patties to burn. Eventually, over time, the block of salt would lose its catalytic effect. And, as Jesus said, “it's good for nothing but to be tossed out and trampled under foot.” So to be salt for the Earth, is to start fires. To be a catalyst for fire. To make things burn. And if Jesus' disciples do this, igniting a flame, then we are also the light of the world. The two images come together. With one meaning. 

Last Sunday, as you left church, you were given a blessed candle. On that candle was the inscription, “go forth and set the world on fire.” Those candles call us to prayer. They also remind us that Jesus calls us to be salt for the Earth, light for the world. And Isaiah tells us what it means to be that Salt and Light, what it means to set the world on fire in our first reading as he speaks about removing oppression from our midst, ending malicious speech, stopping false accusations, sharing our bread with the hungry, welcoming the homeless (which includes the immigrants, the stranger, and the refugee), and clothing the naked. And we do these things not to earn grace, because you can't earn grace. And we do these things not to win people's esteem. And we do these things not to feel good about ourselves. We do them, Saint Paul says, “to Proclaim Christ crucified,” and, as Jesus says, “to give Glory to our Heavenly Father.”  

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This might be a vain attempt to have us think spring but Jimmy Dykes was an All-Star infielder in Major League Baseball. And after his playing days were done, he went on to manage several teams including a two-year stint here in Detroit. And when his entire baseball career was finally completed, he wrote a book, a memoir of sorts, which he entitled, You Can't Steal First Base. 
The gospel of Matthew is the only gospel in which we have this very outward and curious discussion between Jesus and John the Baptist prior to Jesus being baptized. John is clearly very reluctant to baptize Jesus. But Jesus insists, telling him, “just allow it for now.” 
New Testament Scholars contend that Matthew is using this dialogue to address what had become a theological embarrassment, a theological difficulty for the early church; namely, why would Jesus, our sinless Messiah, submit to the baptism of John, which was a baptism for the repentance from sins? And one answer to that question comes from this time of Christmas itself. Jesus as God incarnate, as fully human completely identifies with Humanity, and so submits to being baptized. Others see this baptism as a reflection of the church's first understanding of baptism, that baptism is our sharing in Christ's death and Resurrection. And, so, in a way, Jesus being baptized by John is a foreshadowing in anticipation of Jesus's own death and Resurrection. Still others point out Jesus's solidarity with sinners in those who are ostracized and read his baptism in that light.
This is an easy multiple choice question, because all of the above are fine answers. We don't have to choose one or the other. But in addition to all of those responses, I would suggest another: just as you can't steal first base, you also cannot baptize yourself. You can't baptize yourself. Even if you are the Son of God, the savior of humanity, and the second person of the Blessed Trinity, you don't get to baptize yourself. And I think this is something that our loved ones who are spiritual but not religious and those who see no need for community to worship God fail to work fail to appreciate. By submitting to be being baptized by John, Jesus is reminding us of a fundamental truth about our spiritual journey, and the spiritual journey of every human being. Jesus recognizes that he is part of a history his own family history, the story of his own Jewish people. He is part of that history he is giving us a reminder that we all came from someone and that we are carry forward by the dreams and longings of others. 
Our relationship to God is never separate from the Community of Christ. And, yet, being part of the community, being identified with the community, does bring about its own crosses, its struggles, it's embarrassments, and its challenges. On the other hand it also provides support and encouragement and inspiration, and an awareness of being a part of something larger than ourselves and much greater than just the present moment. Baptism ties us to the Eternal communion of saints, something we get a taste of each and every Sunday as we gather around this table. The baptism of Jesus reminds us in a very clear way that we were fashioned for this life together. ​

It is not difficult at all to contrast King Herod and the Magi. Herod is fundamentally closed,  protective, seeking to hold on and preserve what has been. When he hears that there is a newborn ‘king of the Jews’ he is, frankly, disturbed. Because that is who he is. That's his title. He is the king of the Jews. Herod’s behavior follows a very familiar script: that of the frightened tyrant. He seeks advice from the priest and the scribes, but does so without telling them why he's asking for the information he needs. Next, he meets with the Magi but does so in secret. And he asked them to do his work for him, “You go in search and find the newborn king.” Harod pretends that he wants to also go and do him homage. 
But Herod's plans are thwarted when the Magi don't listen to him. Herod, the master deceiver, has, himself, been deceived. And, so predictably, consulting no one, he gives into his anger and his insecurities and orders that every child 2 years old and younger in Bethlehem should be put to death. 
The Magi on the other hand prove themselves to be fundamentally open; willing to adjust, change, and to grow. The mere fact that they are willing to leave their own country and go on a difficult journey to recognize and give homage to the newborn king, a foreign king to them, is itself rather remarkable. Following proper protocol, they present themselves to King Herod despite his reputation for duplicity and a reputation that has already reached Rome. So we can assume that the Magi must have been aware of it. They proceeded to Bethlehem and they literally open their coffers and present Mary and the Child Jesus with their gifts. And then, again, they are willing to adjust and change by returning to their country by a different way.
No wonder the story of the Epiphany is so enduring! In this brief story Matthew presents this question; it’s a question that sits before his own community and that really will sit before the church for it's next two thousand years; and it’s a question that each disciple has to face: does the Gospel of Jesus Christ call us to hold on, to protect, to control? Or does the Gospel of Jesus Christ challenge us to be open, to trust, be vulnerable? We hear the story and we see this contrast and we raise these questions in this time of Christmas, a time of God becoming human.  we see and celebrate the very example God has placed before us in God's very self. And it is not difficult at all to grasp the direction to which the Gospel summons us. 

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