You Don't Understand the Incarnation

 When Jesus was conceived in Mary, He took on human flesh.  That includes all of humanity.  He acted human.  I can think of three times when He acted like something I would do.  One is in Luke 2: 41-52. The family left Jerusalem without Jesus.  He was old enough to hang out with His friends, or travel with His cousins, etc.  So, Mary and Joseph weren't initially aware that He stayed behind.

In thinking back, I can recall many times I didn't tell my parents where I was, when I should have been in another place.  Skipping school, or church, or hanging out with kids I knew my mother wouldn't approve.

Another time, Jesus must have been tired, worn out, and had little patience, and he snapped at a woman and called her a "dog."  Matt 15: 21-28 and Mark 7: 24-30.  Anyone who has hung around me, especially when I haven't had enough sleep, knows that I have little patience.  To this day, I recall snapping at a student that had a little crush on me.  I pray for her.  She even came to my wedding and sat in the back.  I still feel remorse.

Lastly, Jesus cries out, in the Garden of Gethsemane, "Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me." Haven't you found yourself in a situation where you prayed to get out of it?  Why did I ever volunteer to Lector, fund raise, chaperone, etc.  Right now, at age 80, I pray to die before my children and husband.  But like Jesus, I add, "Not my will but Yours, Lord."

Jesus had two natures and His human nature was like ours.  If you don't think so, then you don't understand the Incarnation.

The Deacon's Homily

 Today, Deacon Ron Gerwatowski, gave the homily to Luke 2: 41-52.  He talked about losing his daughter, on a Fourth of July. This tied in nicely with the Gospel about finding Jesus in the temple.  

A parent losing a child is a nightmare.  Fortunately, I have never had the experience.  My children were always hanging on me.  But I can relate to the feeling of a child losing their mother.

Back in the 1950's, my family didn't have a car. We walked to a corner store and shopped.  It was a small store, like 7-Eleven, Cumberland Farms, etc.  The aisles were small compared to Big Y, Stop & Shop, etc.  

I was around five years old and still remember that feeling of looking up and not seeing my mother.  She was only around the corner--less than 10 steps away.  

Now back to the Deacon's homily.  He spoke of how parents take care of their children and then twenty plus years, those same children are taking care of their parents.  

It struck me that no priest could have given a better homily.  They don't know that feeling of fear, of losing a child, nor will they ever experience their child taking care of them.  Priests aren't parents.