For me, the joy of the third Sunday of Advent started a week early. Last weekend, Greg and I spent the weekend with my family on Long Island, my sisters and brother, my niece and her five-year-old, Tommy. Tommy is in kindergarten at Holy Family in our hometown of Hicksville. He’s very proud of his school and parish and was eager to take us to Mass with him on Sunday. Over the weekend, he had been singing an Advent prayer he learned at school. Imagine these words to the tune of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star: “Advent is a time to wait; not yet time to celebrate.” When we got to Holy Family on Sunday, I noticed the Nativity set up near the main entrance. Tommy and I went over to take a look and I asked why he thought Jesus wasn’t in the manger yet. Expecting him to break into, “Advent is a time to wait; not yet time to celebrate…” I was surprised when he got all distressed and blurted out, “They must still be working on it!” He was clearly miffed, thinking someone had forgotten the baby Jesus.

It’s easy to say the words that we go forth from Mass to love God and love neighbor but what are the most challenging parts of that for each of us as we live out our faith in real time? Like the disciples of Jesus’ day, we might reflect on what Jesus’ inclusiveness means in our times. Do I love people who do not look or act or think like me? Do I love the co-worker who requires extra patience and understanding? Do I love the family member who’s an expert at pushing my buttons? Do I love people who vote for the other party? Do I love the kid who bullies my child at school? Do I love people who commit heinous acts of violence

As a priest for 50 years and being in seminary formation for 12 years prior to ordination in 1968, I am deeply ashamed of this criminal violation of the sacred trust given to priests to proclaim the love and care of Jesus to our young parishioners. We need to move heaven and earth to uncover whatever horrors of sexual abuse remain secret and do everything in our power to prevent this from ever happening again.