January 2, 2005: New Year's, 2005

The Epiphany



When I was a college student in New York, one of my friends earned some extra money by driving a taxicab. He always had interesting stories about the colorful characters he drove around, and the odd things that happened in a New York cab.

Once in a while, one of his fares would accidentally leave something behind. He’d sometimes find a briefcase, an umbrella, a hat… one time, someone even left a snake in a cage! Now that’s weird!

I remember one time, my friend told me that he picked up a beautiful girl with a debutante look at the Plaza Hotel, on Fifth Avenue at Central Park—a very swanky neighborhood. Apparently this young woman was in a frantic hurry to make her appointment at a beauty shop. Well, in her haste, she left in the cab a little silk-and-pearl-covered diary. My friend didn’t find the book until the end of his shift. Then he opened up the little perfumed book to see if there was a name and address inside. Out of curiosity, he read through the entries for the previous week:

Monday, 2 p.m., hairdresser; 3 p.m., Van Cleef & Arpels to try on new cocktail ring; 6 p.m., meet Nikki at Russian Tea Room for cocktails. Tuesday, 10 a.m., fitting at dressmaker; 12:30, lunch with Robert, Waldorf Hotel; 3 p.m., golf. Wednesday, 11 a.m., the Biddles are coming to lunch with us; 3 p.m., take Toodles to vet; poor thing acts strange. Thursday, 10 a.m., paid a few bills; 11 a.m., did some shopping; 3 p.m., country club. Friday, 10 a.m. breakfast at the club, 2 p.m., back to dressmaker—I changed the design because I looked frumpy!; 3:30, tennis; 7 p.m., Robert picked me up for the theatre and dinner afterwards at Chez Louis in the Village; Saturday, 12 noon, lunch at Jane’s; 5 p.m., dinner with Robert and his yucky cousin from Wellesley; dumped her and we went to the ballet.

The entries may not be entirely accurate—it was a few years ago!—but that was the gist of this poor girl’s life that week. My college friend and I shared a laugh over how shallow her life seemed to be. We made some remarks like, “It must be nice that Daddy is so rich.”

It’s funny. I hadn’t thought of that for a long time. Now, as I look back, I also realize that the mystery girl with the diary let seven days go by without a single mention of God! Seven days without one date with the Almighty. Seven days with twenty-four hours in each day—and not one hour set apart for the soul. Appointments with the dressmaker, the beauty shop, the stores, the country club… but not one mention of church, or of the confessional, or of going to Holy Communion. In all justice, we might call that a wasted week!

Now look into your own diary. Oh, yes, every one of you is keeping a diary. Maybe you don’t have a bound book with pages and lines and days and hours where you write all your appointments—but every one of you still keeps a diary: a record of every moment and how you spend it. Go over that record for the past week—every day since Christmas. Better still, go over it for the past year. What do you find there? How many appointments have you had with God? How many hours have you spent uselessly, as far as your soul is concerned? Talk to your little record book: Dear Diary, what do you have to tell me about 2004?

I repeat, whether or not you write in a book every day, you are keeping a diary. We are all keeping diaries. The chronicle, the story, the minute-by-minute account of our life is being written in the book of life—God’s diary. What did you write last year? Suppose the journal of 2004 were read out loud. What would we hear about you? Would it be all empty and fluffy days, like the young lady with the silk-and-pearl diary? Would the story of your life in 2004 be the story of empty, worldly, selfish, wasteful hours and days and weeks? Is yours perhaps worse still—a log book of sins and omissions and failures? How many hours have you given to God? Count them up. Do you think God is satisfied?

Answer that question yourself. Look into your diary for 2004. Study it, learn from it, and you’ll be a lot better at keeping your diary for 2005. What are the things you’d like to change? What dates, what days, would you like to erase from 2004? What would you like to scratch out or tear out from the chapter of your life that ended on New Year’s Eve at midnight? What would you like to have written there? Today a new diary is handed to you, fresh and inviting. What are you going to write in it? Let me make some suggestions.

Mark down for 2005—right now—the hour of Sunday Mass, an appointment you will keep faithfully and punctually, not five or ten minutes late, or even later, but on time. Courtesy demands that. Do the same for the Holy Days of Obligation.

Mark down when you will receive the sacrament of confession and especially when you intend to receive Holy Communion. These are all-important dates with God.

With frequent regularity—make it very definite as to day and hour—jot down in your diary for 2005 the time that you will give to reading things that are Catholic: The Catholic Post, The Catechism of the Catholic Church, the Holy Bible, the stories of the saints, the documents of the Pope and the Church… Oh, there are so many possibilities!

Don’t forget in this New Year also to set aside some time to visit the sick. How many minutes did you spend last year calling on friends or relatives who were shut-in, homebound, in the hospital, in one of the nursing homes? Doing that during this New Year will make it a really happy year. At the very least, set aside some time every day to pray for the sick, the dying, and those who have left this world and gone to God.

Finally, in your 2005 diary, set aside the first and last moments of the day, every day, for a thought of God. Thank Him and bless Him for the gift of another day—for another chance to grow in holiness.

I pray that our diary for 2005 won’t be as empty as the one belonging to that young lady who left her prayerless, churchless, Godless day book in the taxi. Instead, may 2005 be filled with daily appointments with God, who today gives you a brand new diary, a brand new year with 365 days, each day having 24 hours, and each hour with its 60 minutes. This very hour, resolve—sanely and sensibly, yet decisively—that 2005 will have plenty of appointments with God.

And that, I assure you, will make it a positively happy New Year. May the blessings of Jesus Christ, God the Father, and God the Holy Spirit be with you always. Amen.




Today’s Readings:
Isaiah 60, 1–6
Psalm 72
Ephesians 3, 2–6
Matthew 2, 1–12