The Greek language has two words to describe “time.” Chronos measures time according to a clock. There are 31,536,000 seconds in one year. You can use this interesting factoid to appear intelligent at parties. The other word is Kairos, which describes time as events that are so important, they can change your whole life. An example of Kairos time would be the birth of a child. Every Kairos is an opportunity to reveal something good. The Epiphany is a Kairos moment when God reveals He has entered the chaos of human life. Chaos is moments in life that are messed up and make no sense. One of the most predictable things about human life is that life is unpredictable. Things seem to be going great and then, “bam,” the doctor says “You have cancer” or your son says, “Dad, I wrecked the car.” Every New Year will have trials, tribulations, difficulties, and “crosses” that you have no control over. But God does! Every cross is a Kairos moment that God uses as an opportunity to reveal His presence, His care; His love. When God says He is with us always, He means it. God is not offering empty words. As the Epiphany Star shown most brightly in the darkness of night, expect God to shine most brightly in the dark moments of your life. It is in darkness where God will reveal His presence the most. Your cross is where He will bless you. I share with you a Kairos moment when God used chaos to teach me an important life lesson. For many years, I was a Chaplain at the old Providence Hospital on Glenmore Avenue. I would put my car keys in the top drawer of the desk in the back office. The door was never locked because nothing of value was there. One day, I noticed a young man coming out of that office. I asked him if he needed help, but he just quickly walked away. Nothing seemed to be out of place or stolen. After the four o’clock Mass ended, I opened the top desk drawer to get my keys. They were gone. That dude stole my keys! I ran outside to see if my grey Ford Focus was still in the parking lot. He stole my car! He used the fob to find my car and steal it. I panicked. I had to go up north to perform a wedding. And my phone was inside the car! A man and woman who were at the Mass saw my distress. I told them someone stole my car and I have to get to Kenwood for a wedding. The man replied, “Don’t worry. My wife and I will get you there and take you home.” “But I live all the way in Batavia!” He laughed, “If it’s located in the United States, we can make it.” While taking me to the wedding, God used this couple to teach me a spiritual lesson that I have carried ever since. At first, I got on the “pity pot,” bemoaning the theft of my car. I expressed feelings of anger and violation. “Who would want to steal a Ford Focus?” After I calmed down, the man spoke. “Father Mike, you have to put things in perspective. Do you remember the Beverley Hills Supper Club Fire in 1977?” I responded, “Yes, I do. My sister and brother-in-law were supposed to attend, but canceled at the last minute. They were going to celebrate Memorial Day there. Thank God they didn’t go because that fire killed over 160 people.” The man said, “My sister, her husband and my niece did go. They all died celebrating my sister’s birthday.” Upon hearing that, I couldn’t speak. I felt so small, so embarrassed, belly-aching about my stupid car when this man’s loss was so much greater and devastating than mine. He then explained what it means to put suffering in perspective. “To this day, I still don’t understand why God let this happen. I probably never will in this life. But I do believe that somewhere in this tragedy there was a blessing. Their death saved my marriage. It brought my wife and I closer together. It brought us both closer to God. I’m not saying God willed this tragedy to help me and my wife, but I’m saying that God can be seen through the tears. I do believe I’ll see my family again.” This wise man taught me that even when our sky is at its darkest, there is a star called faith that leads us to the Christ. Keep the faith.

– Fr. Mike

(A postscript. My car was found three days later, abandoned on a street in North College Hill. Before ditching it, the robber helped himself to the in-dash radio as well. I was at peace.)