Time to cull

A homily for the First Sunday of Advent, Dec. 2, 2018

Every house has one.

Maybe it’s a drawer in the kitchen, or a cabinet or cubby.

Perhaps it’s a shed or a garage or an entire basement.

But no matter what form it takes, every house has one, at least one.

It’s where we stash our stuff.

Sometimes we call our stuff “junk,” as in, “Check the Junk Drawer.”

Junk or stuff, everything we’ve stashed is valuable, critically needed, can’t do without it.

Or, at least, it was when we first got it.

How many times have you gone to The Home Depot to get a refrigerator bulb and had to buy two, because that item came only in a multi-pack?

The fridge only needed one, so what did you do with the other one?

Junk Drawer.

And we all know that anything that goes into the Junk Drawer hides when we need to fish it out. That bulb? I swear it was in there. Oh well, I’ll go buy another.

This time, of course, the multi-pack is a three-fer, not a two-fer, so even more can get lost in the Bermuda Triangle.

Sometimes we find that bulb after we’ve replaced the refrigerator, and the new one doesn’t take that size.

But do we throw it out? Nooooo, because it’s a perfectly good bulb and we might find a use for it and anyway that would be wasteful.

We never clean out junk drawers or basements or garages. It takes an act of God or an oil spill to get us to excavate.

Junk or stuff, everything we’ve stashed is valuable, critically needed, can’t do without it, remember?

This rule also applies to faded, threadbare T-shirts from concerts in 1978, varsity jackets from 1975, air and oil filters for a 1998 Escort wagon, and dozens of 1157-A taillight bulbs.

We cling to these things the way Andy clung to Woody in the “Toy Story” movies.

St. Paul had some thoughts on this.

In the 13th chapter of his first letter to the Corinthians – the scripture we know best for its “love is patient, love is kind” wisdom – St. Paul talks about maturing:

When I was a child, I used to talk as a child, think as a child, reason as a child; when I became a man, I put aside childish things.

When we put aside childish things of this world, material things like toys and clothes and stuff, where are we putting them? Are we giving them to someone who needs them, if they’re still useful? Are we tossing them in the trash if they’re not? Are we putting them in a scrapbook or hope chest to preserve them as souvenirs?

Or are we stashing them in the Junk Drawer in hopes we can use them again?

Hmmm.

Do our lives have spiritual Junk Drawers?

Because, you know, when we speak of childish things the way Paul did, we’re not talking about Mr. Potato Head.

First and foremost, we’re talking about habits, things we do almost without thinking or actively choosing. We’re looking at the way we interact with the divine, with how we follow God’s Law of Love: because, when we were children, somebody told us to do this and not that. Rote memorization of the Catechism. Blind obedience of the Commandments.

A good start. But only a start.

When we put aside childish things, we begin to examine the current state of our relationship with our living, loving God.

We ask if we’ve matured in our personal covenant with our Creator. Or if this “Being a Catholic” thing is a habit Sister Fleurette or our CCD teacher drilled into us.

If it’s merely a habit, if we’re sleepwalking and not actively, intellectually and emotionally embracing the faith, then Paul has some advice.

As we use this Advent season to prepare to sing “Glory to the Newborn King,” here are some questions we should ask ourselves. Depending on how we answer, we should be able to figure out the “what’s next.”

Do we pray? How often? How?

Do we treat God as a lifeline, as a utility belt, as a tool we carry around in our pocket in case we need him but one we forget about when we don’t?

Do we dedicate our activities – work, play, leisure – to God, who gave us the life, the abilities, the opportunities we have?

(Here’s some homework, and there will be a test: If you don’t already know, please look up AMDG and let me know what it means and how it applies to Advent and every day.)

Do we see Christ in the least among us: those in obvious need of life’s necessities such as food, shelter and clothing as the weather turns cold, as well as those with subtler needs, those marginalized because of race, country of origin, different abilities, who they love?

Will we be counted among the sheep or the goats when Jesus judges the multitudes?

Do we want to clean out the Junk Drawer filled with our spiritually childish things, and now and forever have a mature relationship with the Trinity?

God, who is Love, has open arms.