Don't just listen---RESPOND!

For me, telling others my New Year’s resolutions are usually the kiss of death to them.  I hope it’s not going to happen this year because I’m going to share one of mine with you.  I let myself get lax this past year in daily Mass attendance, so I resolved I am going to go to Mass every day that I am able to and if there is a Mass offered.  So far, it’s going well.  I haven’t gone on Saturday’s because I have either been working or traveling for work, but I have been able to go every other day.

 

I love the Mass.  It doesn’t matter which language it’s being celebrated in—it is so comforting to pray with a community, and then to participate in the Holy Sacrifice that prepares us to receive Jesus’ body, blood, soul and divinity.   The Liturgy of the Eucharist is my favorite part of the Mass.

My second favorite part of the Mass is the Liturgy of the Word.  The reasons it takes second place to the Eucharist are two-fold:  First, how can anything compare to a physical union with God?  Secondly—and I hate to admit this—is that I sometimes find some of the readings either confusing or vague.  The days those readings are chosen are when I hope the priest is a good homilist who can tie everything together for me.

With all of that being said, this week’s readings are beautifully tied together by Mother Church and most of the homilies write themselves, so even a poor preacher can make sense of them!

 

The unifying message I see in this week’s readings is that we need to listen and to respond to God’s promptings in our lives. Sometimes they are direct messages from God and sometimes they come through other people (1 Samuel 3:1-10, 19-20, Psalm 40:2-5, 7-8, 8-9, 10 and Mark 1:29-39). But just listening isn’t enough, although it is an important first step.

Lily is at the age (5-years-old) when she has to be asked over and over again, “Did you hear what I said?” Her usual reply is, “I hear you,” to which we have to say, “I need you to listen AND respond.” It’s almost a mantra around our house.

Samuel was listening and he was trying to respond, but he wasn’t listening closely enough to realize it was the Lord speaking to him. He needed Eli to counsel him. That’s OK…we all need the wisdom of elders and those more spiritually in touch than ourselves. Once he learned that God was truly speaking to him, he responded appropriately and developed a deep relationship with the Lord.

The responsorial psalm echoes Samuel’s sentiments: “Here am I, Lord, I come to do your will.” There is special mention of having “ears open” and then acting.

In Mark’s gospel, Jesus listens to His friends’ entreaty to help Simon’s mother-in-law, even if they may have not made a direct request. Just telling Jesus about her plight was enough for Him to immediately respond, reaching out and healing her instantly.

The next day, after a full evening of dealing with crowds gathered at the door and curing as many as possible, He rose early and “went off to a deserted place” to pray. I can just imagine the prayers He offered, probably discussing with His Father the fatigue He may have felt, concerns for others, His hopes for the future, and quietly listening as He absorbed strength from the Holy Spirit.

When His friends found him, He had a response ready for them. He wanted to go to nearby villages and preach, saying, “For this purpose have I come.” Through listening to God’s call through prayer, He was able to focus in on what He was to do. He shows us the way to discover what we are to do: listen to God’s whispers in our hearts and then act on them. We may not always have the extreme clarity to say, “For this purpose have I come,” but sometimes we will, and other times we will know at least what direction we should go and what direction we should avoid.

That’s why I resolved this year to go to Mass as often as I can.  I want to hear the Lord’s voice and respond to His call as best I can.

Can you imagine?

Imagine Jesus leading you down the bank and into the Jordan River to be baptized with Him.  Then picture yourself coming up from the water to hear God’s voice, “This is my beloved son [daughter], with whom I am well pleased.”

What a powerful, yet simple message:  I am good.  The truth is that we all are, whether we believe it or not.  We are good people who sometimes make bad decisions, but we are good nonetheless.  As sons and daughters of God, we can all meet Jesus on the bank of the Jordan river, we can all sink deeply into those life-giving waters, shed our failures, and re-emerge knowing we are good, we are loved, and we are God’s.

Most importantly we re-emerge, made new and ready again to pursue the mission God has laid before us.  Just as Jesus began His ministry after His baptism, we too are called to share the Gospel message of love and hope with everyone we meet from the moment we are baptized to every relief-filled moment after we leave the confessional.  But the Baptism of the Lord goes beyond these Catholic sacraments: It is a message of rebirth and re-missioning for all Christians and every person, whether they know it or not, because we are all deeply loved by God.

You're here, I'm here, there's water. Why not?

In the Gospel of John (John 3:22-30), what initially caught my attention was the phrase describing why (the ‘other’) John was baptizing.  …“because there was an abundance of water there and the people came to be baptized…”.  That struck me as funny.  “Hey! I’m here, you’re here.  There’s a lot of water.  Let’s do this!”

 

Seriously though, St. John [the Baptist] summarizes the role he has had in regard to Christ.  He clarifies that he himself is not the Messiah, but that "he was sent before Him."  He speaks of the joy that this role has given him and that He must increase, and I must decrease.

Our role as baptized Christians has some of the characteristics of St. John the Baptist in that we also are to prepare the way for Christ, not only in our own lives, but in that of others. We do this by the example of how we live our own lives and by teaching informally when the occasion arises.

If we are doing this, we can ask ourselves, "Does this role bring us joy as it did St. John the Baptist? Is this joy evident to others?" Joy prepares a path for Christ. When we step back and decrease, as did St. John the Baptist, we too are making room for Christ as opposed to taking on the glory for ourselves. We prepare the way, but Christ does the rest!

No! Really! I've got something in my eye!

I related a couple of weeks ago that I cried during Mass when, during the annual Christmas children’s play, the “baby Jesus” (usually portrayed by a newborn baby of the parish) is placed in the arms of the girl playing the part of Mary.  I felt as though I was there in that stable those many, many years ago witnessing the humanity of Jesus.

 

This morning at Mass I cried again!  (I hope this isn’t going to be a pattern—I have an image to uphold, you know).  As the Gospel was being read, I placed myself in the synagogue as Jesus was reading the scroll with the passage from Isaiah.  I was as rapt as His audience was then and amazed at His knowledge and teaching.  When He said “Today, in your hearing this Scripture is fulfilled”, I lost it.  My eyes filled with tears and I felt so unworthy to be in His presence, witnessing the divinity of Jesus.

It’s not the first time I’ve realized it, but these last two incidents brought home to me that I really, really believe in Jesus Christ and His Good News!  I felt so blessed!  I was elated when the Holy Spirit reinforced what that can mean for me (and anyone else who believes) in 1John 5:5-13.

To paraphrase John (I hope I got it right!):

  

Faith is our best measure of success. The successful person is the one who believes in Jesus. Jesus was actually born. He is our Savior by blood through His birth in human form and by His death.  Jesus is fully human, born as a baby from a human woman, and fully God. Those who acknowledge His humanity and His divinity are the winners and their prize is eternal life.  Those who believe in God and Jesus and praise Him are blessed, and their children are blessed, and they are blessed with life everlasting.   When we believe in God, when we believe in Jesus, we win.  And our prize is the blessing of our faith, healing, and life everlasting.

Lighten up!

The priest at Mass this morning opened his homily with the following joke.  I’ve been chuckling about it all day.  I couldn’t remember the exact words of the joke, so I googled it for accuracy.  I found it on another person’s blog and copied it.  Before I did though, I also perused the comments in the blog about the post.  First, here’s the joke:

A little girl asked her father, "How did the human race appear?"  The father answered, "God made Adam and Eve and they had children and so was all mankind made.”

Two days later the girl asked her mother the same question. The mother answered, "Many years ago there were monkeys from which the human race evolved."

The confused girl returned to her father and said, "Dad, how is it possible that you told me the human race was created by God, and Mama said they developed from monkeys?"

The father answered, "Well, dear, it is very simple. I told you about my side of the family and your Mama told you about hers."

A couple of the comments took the joke for what it is—humor.  But the “atheism at any cost” types were vehement in denouncing any theory about the creation of the human race other than simply the science of evolution.  When will they realize that seemingly opposing viewpoints in regard to science and faith are almost never “either/or”, but most often they are “both/and”?  

To get the real explanation of what the Catholic Church teaches about the beginning of the human race, read the Catechism of the Catholic Church Paragraphs 282-289.

 

In the meantime, lighten up.

The wondrous deeds of God

The wondrous deeds of God are known to anyone who takes the time to look for them and to reflect on what they see, or hear, or sense in any way.   Who doesn’t appreciate a beautiful sunrise or sunset?   Who isn’t impressed by the sight of untarnished natural surroundings?  My cousin Amy frequently posts on Facebook photos she has taken.  She always gives the credit to God for the wonders she sees.  

How can anyone who has witnessed the birth of a child not be overwhelmed with gratitude to God by the miracle of life?

What about the technological advances of the last 100 years or so?  Although some may argue that these are the works of men, I counter that without our God-given intellect, we would not have these wonders.  

These are all given to us by a generous God.  How can one be aware of and respond to these wonders without singing joyfully to the Lord?! (Psalm 67:4)

This time of year we are reminded of the wonders of people caring for each other.  While people are homeless and hungry and ill-clothed throughout the year, something about Advent and Christmas reminds us that this is a special time to care for our sisters and brothers.  Toy drives, food collections, fuel subsidies, and other programs unite givers and receivers during this time of year more than any other.  We mirror God’s wondrous generosity with our own.

And yet, it’s so easy to take all this for granted, to demand and expect wonders because they have become part of our lives and so mundane.  These wonders become ingrained in our short memory horizons, and so we expect that we will always be comfortable in our needs, that “someone” will certainly develop a new something to fix this or that problem.  It’s amazing that the marvel of new things has a short life of public interest because something new is coming soon.  If we stop to think we might appreciate the wondrous things about us, but too often we are lulled by complacency.  We forget that what we know today is the culmination of all our prior human understanding of the mysteries that God has created.

One of the most wondrous things that God has done is to give us children and grandchildren, because as they grow they remind us by their exuberance to truly appreciate the wonders we encounter.  Since their memories are short, children see with the new eyes of one who is not jaded.  Lily, who just turned 5 years old a couple of weeks ago, greets me with a great big hug and “OOMPAH, you’re home!” every time I walk in the door after a few days absence as if it has been years since we last saw each other.  It melts my heart every time.  It doesn’t matter what kind of a day or week I’ve been having.  Once I feel that unconditional love nothing else matters.

 

And so my prayer today as I start this new year—and  my wish for you—is for the grace to be like a child, discovering with joy every minute of every day the wonders the Lord has done, and for the freedom to break into songs of praise for the God who loves us.