Everything in proper order

 

“After entering a boat, Jesus made the crossing, and came into his own town.  And there, people brought to him a paralytic lying on a stretcher. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, ‘Courage, child, your sins are forgiven.’” (Matthew 9:1–8)

I love this story.  These people bring Jesus a man who can't move.  In their faith, they’re sure that Jesus will know what to do.  Jesus is touched by their faith.  He tells the man to have courage and He tells him his sins are forgiven. 

One of the most important parts of this passage is that Jesus didn’t simply say “Yes” to the physical healing of the paralytic and leave it at that.  Instead, His response to the paralytic was to first forgive his sins.  I think that there’s an important lesson to be learned from this which can help us know how best to pray.

Oftentimes when we pray, we pray for this or that favor from our Lord.  We pray for what we want Jesus to grant us.  But the story of the paralytic shows us that what Jesus wants for us is different.  First, He wants to grant us forgiveness for our sins.  This is His priority, and it should also be ours.  Once the forgiveness of sins takes place with this paralytic, Jesus also heals, as proof of His power to forgive sins.  This story should help us to order our priorities in prayer according to Jesus’ priorities.  If we make sorrow for sin our first priority, we can be certain that Jesus will answer us.  From there, Jesus knows all of our needs.  We can present them to Him but only when we’re reconciled within our own heart with Him.

That’s why it’s important to make a daily examination of our sins.  This must become the first and most important part of our daily prayer.  Though many people don’t like to look at sin, it’s much easier to do when the focus is not so much the sin as it is a focus upon the mercy of forgiveness and spiritual healing we need.  The more aware we become of our daily sin, the more mercy we’ll receive.  And the more mercy for the forgiveness of our sins we receive, the more our Lord will be able to bless us abundantly in other ways.  We should always start with the mercy of our Lord and our own need for that mercy every day, and all else will be taken care of by our Lord.

Lessons both numerous and humorous

 

The Scripture readings I reflected on today are somewhat diverse.  The lessons are numerous, and some are humorous.  In Genesis, the first lesson is a reminder that God has a sense of humor.  I have a picture in my mind of God dropping the newborn Isaac in Abraham’s hundred-year-old lap and sitting back and chuckling.  At times, I’ve viewed children as both God’s gift to and joke on us.  God gives us these little bundles that will drain us emotionally, physically and financially and the moment they’re in our arms, we fall in love with them.  Like most new fathers, Abraham was probably overjoyed and overwhelmed at the same time.  The second lesson of this account is that one wife is plenty.  Already overwhelmed with a newborn, Abraham faced squabbling wives delivering ultimatums.  A great argument for a monogamous marriage.  And lastly, God always keeps His promises.  God promised Abraham that He would take care of Ishmael, Abraham trusted God and God delivered.  It’s a simple lesson that we can carry with us every day of our lives (Genesis 21:5-20). 

Psalm 34:11 states it simply: “Those who seek the Lord lack no good thing”. (Psalms 34:7-13)

We’ve all heard some stories that don’t end the way we expect them to.  Or someone reacts just the opposite of how we would expect them to react.  One of the stories in Matthew’s Gospel is like that (Matthew 8:28-34).  Christ comes upon two men possessed by demons.  He casts the demons out.  The demons go into a herd of swine and the pigs rush into the sea and drown.  Witnesses run into town and report what has happened.  The whole town comes out and when they see Jesus, they plead with him to leave.  What?!?  The Son of God showed up, performed a great miracle and they’re concerned about some pigs?  What the heck was wrong with these people? 

Saint Jerome said that it’s possible that the people were actually acting in humility, in that they didn’t consider themselves worthy to be in the presence of someone as great as Jesus.  Like Saint Peter who fell at the feet of Jesus and cried out, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord” (Luke 5:8), these townspeople may have been in such awe at what Jesus did for them that they didn’t see themselves as being worthy of His presence.  However, other Church Fathers point out that it’s more likely that these townspeople signify those who are stuck in their life of sin and don’t want to come face-to-face with the Gospel or with the Person of Jesus.  They prefer to close their ears to the truth and to remain in their life of ignorance and sin.

It might also be helpful to reflect upon the relationship between the townspeople and the two demoniacs.  Ideally, when the townspeople saw the two men completely freed of the demons who tormented them, they would have rejoiced in a way similar to the way the father of the Prodigal Son rejoiced when his son returned to him (Luke 15:11-32).  Sadly, in this case, there seemed to be a tremendous lack of excitement by their fellow townsmen over the freedom the two demoniacs experienced.  This shows a clear lack of love for the two men within the town.  Perhaps many of the townspeople took a weird form of pleasure in their mockery of these two men over the years, and they enjoyed telling stories about how crazy they were.  Now, they were faced with these two men who were completely changed, and they may have found it difficult to speak well of them because of their pride.

The negative example set by the townspeople gives us an opportunity to reflect upon how we think about and treat those who have changed their ways and have turned from evil to good.  Perhaps it’s a family member who’s sincerely tried to change.  Or perhaps someone at work, a neighbor or some other acquaintance has gone from a life of sin to a life seeking virtue.  The real question to ponder is whether we rejoice over the goodness of others, over their ongoing conversion and pursuit of holiness, or whether we struggle with truly expressing joy as we see people we know change for the good.  It’s often easy to criticize but much more difficult to rejoice in the holy transformation of another.  I would hope that I’d be more open to God’s guidance than the townspeople in the story, but I wonder. 

I remember a time when a friend asked me if I feared death.  I gave the standard “No, I’m a Christian, I believe in the resurrection” answer and then became frustrated when he questioned further.  In retrospect, I feel God opened a door for me about as wide as He could, but my own doubts and fears kept me from stepping through.  My hope is that I didn’t close the door completely on my friend and another opportunity will be presented.  My prayer today would be that I will be open to God’s guidance and that I trust in God’s promises enough to step through the doors that He opens.

From ordinary to extraordinary

 

“Oh, God!” is one movie (1977) I could see 1000 times and still be laughing.  John Denver and George Burns were marvelous together.  The movie was about God coming to earth to give the message that He gave us the world and what is in it and that it’s up to us to make it work (with His grace through faith, hope, and love).  When God (Burns) appears to assistant grocery store manager Jerry Landers (Denver) as a good-natured old man, the Almighty selects him as His messenger for the modern world.  As I imagine any ordinary man would react, Landers is overwhelmed to the edge of panic when he realizes he is, in fact meeting God and having to spread His message.  God suggests to Landers that he shave while they talk to calm himself down by doing something ordinary.  In that action, Landers is no longer afraid of God or His mission, and his courage becomes almost unshakable from that point on, as he takes on all sorts of skeptics and persecutions.  It’s one of my favorite scenes from the movie, and the one I remember most for it’s simplicity.

This movie (and this particular shaving scene) came to my thoughts as I contemplated two real-life ordinary men, one a fisherman and the other a Pharisee and a tentmaker.  Two ordinary men who recognized that God had called them to be something greater than they thought themselves to be.  Two ordinary men who had courage to speak the truth that was spoken to them through Christ.  They endured many hardships and trials for their words and actions and yet they kept on believing in the truth that dwelt in their hearts.

How could ordinary men come to do extraordinary things?

“The angel said to Peter, ‘Put on your belt and your sandals’.  He did so. Then he said to him, ‘Put on your cloak and follow me.’”  (Acts 12: 1-11) 

Even in prison Saint Peter didn’t give up hope in Jesus Christ.  He listened and followed the angel out of the prison.  The angel had to awaken him from his sleep.  If Peter was asleep he certainly wasn’t afraid of the trial that was to take place the next day.  The passion that he felt in his heart, about who he had spent three years following and all that he had seen Jesus Christ do for others, must have been a source of his hope and courage.  He was open to the possibility that Jesus was the Messiah and confirmed it when Jesus asked him “Who do you say that I am?” (Matthew 16: 13 -19).  

Saint Paul was also in prison and didn’t fear death.  He knew that he had completed what Christ had called him to do for the proclamation of the Kingdom.  He wrote, “I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith.” (2 Timothy 4: 6-18)

Paul was passionate about his faith to the point of persecuting the first Christians.  Then Jesus caught his attention with a flash of light and a bit of a humbling fall to the ground.  A “snap out of it” moment.  He would carry the message of Christ to the Gentiles beyond Jerusalem to the end of the world, at that time the Roman world.  Again, his passion came from the truth that dwelt in his heart and he wasn’t afraid to recognize it and act upon it.

Just like Jerry Landers, Saint Peter, and Saint Paul, each of us are called to become something greater than what we think we are.  This can only occur through faith, prayer, hope, discernment, and trust in Christ.  

For the sake of the few....

 

One of my responsibilities as a retail manager was the hiring and the firing of employees.  I took both aspects of this responsibility seriously; I always hired who I thought was the most qualified and I was quite thorough in my training methods to ensure I had a strong team.  Occasionally, my team would under-perform, and I would have to figure out who the ‘weak link’ was.  If I couldn’t identify any particular individual, there were times that I would be strongly advised by my superiors to “fire the whole team” and start over, rather than retrain my existing, loyal team.  But because I was a ‘hands-on’ type of manager, I grew quite close to each of my team members and felt obligated to do or say what I had to in order to save my team from unemployment, as if they were my own family.  I remember two specific times that I was given the choice of firing my whole team or getting fired myself.  Even though I was frustrated by the actions of some on my team, I was able to present strong arguments against this action both times, and my teams went on to prove my belief in them, after they were spared termination.  These memories came flooding back to me as I read the Genesis account of Abraham bargaining with God over His decision to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah (Genesis 18:16-33).

In the account, we have Abraham, our forefather in faith who loves us so much that he’s willing to plead our case before God, even at the risk of making God angry!  We have an even greater blessing in being created and loved into being by a God who is kind and merciful.  I can imagine Abraham being very frustrated with the people of Sodom and Gomorrah!  They were clearly messing up and Abraham was sure that even though he believed God loved those people, they clearly needed to be taught a lesson!  God on the other hand, knew of Abraham’s faithfulness and love for his people and didn’t want Abraham to be put in the middle of any of this messiness.

Isn’t this just like our God who loves us unconditionally, especially during those times we’ve really messed up!  We can only hope that the people of Sodom and Gomorrah appreciated their saved lives were a result of Abraham’s intercession and God’s love for his faithful servant.

This story also reminds me of how important and necessary it is for us to LISTEN!  Just as it was important and life-changing for Abraham and God to listen and really hear what the real message and concerns were, so it is with us.  COVID mandated listening above all else.  We couldn’t do anything else except to listen to those we lived with, to the programs and advice we tuned into on social media, as well as the scientists and medical profession who tried their best to keep us healthy.

“If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts” (Psalm 95:8). This psalm keeps me grounded in listening and hearing God’s plan for my life.  I’ve found whether it’s pre-covid, post-covid or no covid times, God’s voice always comes through loud and clear!  I’ll admit it isn’t always something I want to hear at the time or even understand it at other times, but through grace I’m eventually able to get the message!

Summer is here in full force!  Gardens in bloom, families gathering, parish churches throwing wide their doors, sunsets, boating, picnics, swimming, are all in full swing.  It’s not a time to harden our hearts; rather, stay tuned to God’s voice to be heard and God’s presence seen all around and within us! 

The ultimate poverty

 

As the title of my blog should confirm, one of my favorite passages of Scripture is the account of the travelers on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13-35).  There is so much to learn in the account!  Perhaps the most overlooked sentence is verse 27: “Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them what referred to him in all the scriptures.” 

What that means for us is that the New Testament is the fulfillment of the Old Testament.  If one reflects deeply and meaningfully enough, certain passages in the New reflect the Old.  My reflection today was an example of this.

The Book of Wisdom reminds us that God did not make death.  Nor does God rejoice in death. Our God is a god of life, not death.  Further, God created us to be imperishable. Only those who join the company of the devil experience death.  So, when we choose God, we choose eternal life. When we turn away from God, we turn towards death (Wisdom 1:13-15; 2:23-24).

This theme of life and death continues in the Gospel where Jesus raises a twelve-year-old girl from the dead.  In doing so, Jesus establishes His identity as the son of God.  Like God (indeed, He is God), Jesus has power over death (Mark 5:21-43).

Though not explicitly mentioning death, St. Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians focuses on poverty and on being poor: “for your sake [Jesus] became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich.” (2 Corinthians 8:7-15)

Yet is poverty so different from death?  Isn’t death the ultimate form of poverty?  Death strips us not only of our material possessions, but also of our relationships and of our own lives.  In death, we leave behind not just our money and favorite foods, but also our friends and family.

St. Paul reminds us that Jesus became poor.  In becoming human, Jesus became vulnerable to death. Jesus embraces the ultimate form of poverty.  And Jesus’ action has ramifications for us.  Jesus became poor so that we may become rich.  St. Paul reminds us that we should imitate Jesus’ generosity by sharing our material goods with others.  We should give from our abundance to provide for the needs of others.

Death may be the ultimate form of poverty, but so many people live in poverty.  I remember a quote I once heard: “There is something about poverty that smells like death.”  Death and poverty are linked. None of us can raise the dead, but we can share our resources and talents with those in need.  In this way, we can share in Jesus’ power over death.

Nothing is too wonderful for the Lord to do

I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary as far as physical activity today, but I am feeling my age.  For weeks now, I’ve been thinking about how much less I’m able to do physically than when I was younger.  So for inspiration, I found myself meditating today on Genesis 18:1-15, one of the most powerful and intriguing stories in all the Bible.

Abraham and Sarah, the great Patriarch and Matriarch of Israel, were camped at Mamre.  Sitting in the entrance to his tent on a hot day, Abraham saw three men approaching and, in the tradition of desert hospitality, invited them to join him, offering to have their feet washed and take some rest, while a meal was prepared for them.  Right from the start, Abraham seemed to sense that these were not the usual kind of travelers but mysteriously represented the divine presence.

He urged his wife Sarah to prepare a fine meal of meat and bread and milk and served it to his visitors while they enjoyed the shade of the great Terebinth tree next to his tent.  When they finished their meal, one of the visitors astounded Abraham by promising that upon the visitors’ return the next year at the same time, Sarah would have given birth to a son!  Remember, both Abraham and Sarah were very old at this time.  Sarah, listening to this conversation behind the tent flap, laughed out loud: “Now that I am so withered and my husband is so old, am I still to have sexual pleasure?”

A scene very similar to this had taken place in the preceding chapter of Genesis, but this time it was Abraham who laughed, burying his face in the crook of his elbow and laughing when God promised him that he would bear a child with Sarah: “Can a child be born to a man who is a hundred years old?  Can Sarah, who is ninety years old, bear a child?“ (Genesis 17:17).  In each case the prospect of new life in such old bodies seemed preposterous.

But the mysterious visitor at Mamre heard Sarah laugh and now the Bible explicitly says it is the Lord who responds: “Why did Sarah laugh?” 

Fearful, Sarah tried to deny it, “I did not laugh.’  But the visitor didn’t relent: “Oh yes, you did laugh!”  And then the story’s great conclusion is driven home: “Is anything too wonderful for the Lord?”  These will be the very words the Angel Gabriel says to Mary when she wonders how she a virgin could bear a child: “Nothing is impossible with God.” (Lk 1:37).

The lessons of this story are beautiful.  First of all, Abraham’s hospitality is rewarded with the marvel of God’s presence.  I think of the words in Hebrews which reminds us of the need for hospitality: “Let mutual love continue.  Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.” (Hebrews 13:1-2).  But beyond this, the story of Abraham and Sarah and their mysterious visitors reminds us that God brings life where we think that no life can appear.  

One of the great fears of the biblical people as a traditional culture was that of barrenness—the shame of not being able to engender life.  But the God of the Scriptures—the God revealed by Jesus—is a God of life and love, one who can bring life and joy into situations we believe are empty and barren.  

Even in our moments of suffering and loneliness, God’s presence can be felt and renew us.  Here is where the reminder to be hospitable and the bringing of new life can meet: offering kindness and respect even to strangers can bring a sense of hope to them and make us an instrument of God’s love.

Trust is in short supply

Trust is in short supply in modern life.  We’ve replaced trust with security systems and an atmosphere of constant vigilance, which saps our energies from more productive endeavors.  When trust is low, we erect more barriers around us.  Ironically, pursuing security in this way often causes us to lose our peace; even love becomes a challenge.   

Trust can also be eroded in our relationship with God.  All of us have felt abandoned or lost at some time.  None of us have immunity from hurt and disappointment.  Some keep wandering (and wondering) until they find their way again, keeping an openness to the possibility that God is working even through the hurts.  Sometimes trust even grows from that journey, particularly as we experience unexpected goodness.  But some decide to stop, erect barriers, and to draw their sustenance from what they think they can secure.  They can only sense the hurt, and they don’t want to go back there again.  But not going back may also block the way forward.  

All of us sometimes adopt the barrier approach, particularly with difficult relationships.  And sometimes we get into a difficult patch in our spiritual life, which may cause us to wall ourselves off from the Church.  In my own experience, that usually doesn’t last long.  I don’t have that much confidence in my own barriers.  Moreover, those barriers are likely more effective at keeping out the healing medicine we need, rather than giving genuine protection.

But I will readily admit that I sometimes behave like Abraham, laughing inside and wondering how this relationship with God will really turn out after all Genesis (17:1-22).  But Abraham also provides a useful path forward when we feel crosswise in our spiritual life.  Along with his doubts and uncertainties, he also prostrated himself, choosing to honor God with his behavior.  Outward behavior often leads our interior disposition, which is sometimes the last guest to arrive at the party.  This is required and expected of us in many social contexts, when we must behave better than we feel.  It shouldn’t surprise us that sometimes we need to do this in our relationship with God.  Of course, He’s always aware of our interior disposition; we’re not fooling Him.  But He’s also aware that we’re trying to do right, and perhaps grace comes to us as we take even small steps in the right direction.

The leper in Matthew’s gospel (Matthew 8:1-4) did something similar:  After approaching Jesus, the leper first “did him homage”, following customary behavior to show honor within his culture.   The leper then said something astonishing.  “Lord, if you wish, you can make me clean.”  He obviously wanted to be extracted from the ostracism and pain associated with leprosy, but he seemed to leave this outcome to the Lord's discretion.  He didn’t seek to impose his will upon Jesus, but instead he seemed to affirm Jesus’ authority and to honor His will above his own.  

I find myself in awe of the leper’s trust in Jesus.  When things don’t go well for me, I tend to ruminate and stew in my own hurts and needs.  My interior motivation is not oriented toward doing homage, but instead to ask God why he has put me in such a state!  And of course, I usually have a prescription to offer as well!   But I’m not the Great Physician.  My prescription might even make me worse off.  Following the leper’s example would be an improvement, if I’m honest with myself.

We should all pray for the kind of trust the leper had.  Thanks be to God.   

Behold the Lamb of God

St. Paul summed up the work of John the Baptist with the word repentance (Acts 13:22-26).  I think this means one has to think of God in a much bigger and exciting way.  We must change dramatically our thoughts about the wonder of His love.  What God is going to do for us hasn’t even entered into the mind and heart of man in His wildest dreams (Romans 8)!  Biblical “repentance” means not so much that we look to our wayward sins, but to God’s startling love for us.  We’re challenged with God’s amazing ways to call us into the wonderful love life of the Trinity. 

Jesus says the most astonishing things about this sharing of intimacy with God!  “Just as the Father has loved Me, I have also loved you; abide in My love” (John 15:9).  I think these are some of the most astounding words spoken by Jesus.  So strong is Jesus’ love for us it’s like the Father’s love for His “Only Begotten”.  How could Jesus say it more strongly than that?  When John the Baptist said: “Behold the Lamb of God” that must have been the most wonderful sight in the world to those present along the Jordan River!  Pope Benedict XVI beautifully said, “Everything depends on the intimate friendship with Jesus!”

Several years ago (when she was three years old), my granddaughter Lily was showing off a crucifix I had given her.  She held it up and said, "This is Jesus my brother, Oompah gave Him to me.  He is asleep but He can hear me. He is magic. I will leave Him here asleep."  Then she put it down on her dresser, where it is still prominently displayed to this day.  What a simple but profound faith she has!  As I think back on the episode, it occurs to me that maybe her words summed up the main wonderful point of John the Baptist. “Behold the Lamb of God!”

Praying for good fruits

 

A couple of years ago, while driving to our family cabin my wife and I noticed that some of the trees and other flora were encroaching onto the roadside, creating a potential hazard to the cars driving by.  As we were discussing the problem, one of us said that they should be cut back away from the roadside.  Our granddaughter, who was in the backseat, started to cry and asked us why we would want to “hurt” the beautiful trees just because they were too far out in the road.  She never fails to amaze me with her grasp of faith and compassion for all living things.

Even though she was only ten years old or so, her arguments for leaving them alone were pretty solid.  Surely, they still possessed beauty.  Little boys and girls could climb on them, and birds could nest in them.  They provided shade and comfort from the hot summer sun.  Their leaves and needles could be mulch or compost.  Aren’t those also fruits that bear valuing? 

They were valuable and insightful arguments.  I explained to her that proper pruning didn’t necessarily hurt the trees. And even if we did need to cut them, wouldn’t their wood be useful for warmth in our cabin or to build new homes?

Her strong feelings that day about the well-being of the trees and our discussion of other “fruits” that they can provide and the gospel I reflected on today (Matthew 7:15-20) led me to ponder how our Creator must feel about us and our good fruits and bad fruits.  How difficult is it for our Loving Parent to prune us, or allow us to be thrown into the fire?  Isn’t the covenant with Abram (Genesis 15:1-18) really a statement that our Lord will be there for us, across countless generations and innumerable descendants, a constant source of love and support (forever as Psalm 105:1-9 says) as we live our lives?

We have such a powerful example of bearing good fruit in the life of Jesus and the holy women and men who have put His teachings into action; we call them saints.  We have the examples of other holy men and women who are of different faith traditions (or even no professed faith tradition) who live powerful lives bearing good fruit; they will be called saints.

Seeing these examples of loving lives well-lived, and knowing that God’s love is so deep, how can we consciously bear bad fruit?  How can we harm others, or be selfish, or blindly squander our beautiful world, or fail to consider what evils our actions can cause?  If we are aware, won’t our bad fruits be lessened in number and impacts?  Won’t we say thank you to our Lord for the gift of life itself by avoiding bad fruits as we live out our one precious gift?

And so, my prayer today is for the grace to be mindful that my actions are my fruits, and can be good or not, and that being aware of my love for my Nurturer will help me bear good fruit.  

Healthy fear vs unhealthy fear

 

For the past few weeks, I’ve had a feeling of dread.  I can’t explain it in any other word than that.  The worst thing about it is that when I’ve been asked what I’m afraid of, I couldn’t put my finger on it.  I’m tired of feeling this way.  So I thought what better way to get past it than to confront it!  There are several Scripture references to “fear” that have enlightened me and given me comfort today.

Fear has a couple of different forms.  First, there’s a form of fear that’s contrary to faith.  It’s a fear that leads us to doubt and even despair.  It’s a fear that results from the attack of the evil one and others who may sin against us.  This form of fear is unhealthy and must be overcome through a faith that turns to our Lord with the utmost confidence and hope.  Unfortunately, it’s also the form most of us think of most often, and I think, the form I’ve been afflicted with these last couple of weeks.

But there’s also a ‘holy fear’ that’s most useful and one of the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit (Isaiah 11:1-2).  Recall the Proverb that says, “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom…” (Proverbs 9:10).  At a minimal level, this holy fear makes us aware of our sins and the consequences of those sins, especially serious sin.  And this holy fear leads us to fear the punishment that results from sin, leading us to avoid serious sin.  But the ideal form of “fear of the Lord” we must strive for is “filial fear,” which is the holy fear of a son or daughter of God.  This fear is one that’s grounded in a profound love of God and leaves us so filled with a wonder and awe of the glory, goodness and majesty of God that we’re filled with a desire to please Him and give Him great glory with our life.  Thus, this “fear” leads us to a desire to avoid even the smallest of sin, because, in our love of God, we not only want to avoid offending Him, but we also want to honor Him to the greatest extent possible.

Matthew 7:15-20 should lead us to, at a minimum, a fear of not entering the gate to the “road that leads to life.”  It’s useful to consider Jesus’ teaching in a very straightforward way.  Jesus essentially says that it is quite easy to walk through the gate that is “wide” and down the road that is “broad” in this life.  In other words, it’s exceptionally easy to embrace a life of sin and head toward “destruction.”  Jesus further says that those who walk through this wide gate and down this broad road are “many.” This fact should be the cause of our honest daily examination.  If this broad road is so easy, then we should honestly admit that we can easily find ourselves walking it.

The “narrow gate” and the “constricted” road are found and walked by only a “few,” according to Jesus’ words.  Again, we should take notice of this and take it seriously.  Jesus wouldn’t say this if it were not true.  Therefore, if the gift of the fear of the Lord is alive in our life, and if we truly are a son or daughter of God, then we’ll daily strive to be one of those “few” who find this narrow way to holiness.  And, ideally, we’ll do so out of our love for God and our desire to give Him the greatest glory we can.

Let’s strive to enter the narrow gate and the constricted road and don’t turn back.  Though this requires much determination, sacrifice and love, the goal and end of the road are worth it (1 Corinthians 2:9).

Look inward, don't judge

If you’ve ever been on a plane, the pre-flight announcements advise passengers to secure their own masks before assisting a neighbor with his or her oxygen mask as a best practice procedure. This instruction ties in perfectly Matthew’s gospel (Matthew 7:1-5).  We’re reminded that removing the “beam” from our own eye first is essential and precedes our inclination to point or attend to our neighbors “beam.”

In the gospel Jesus says, “You hypocrite, remove the wooden beam from your eye first; then you will see clearly to remove the splinter from your brother’s eye.”  We’re so quick to judge others or react to the person across from us.  Why is it so hard for us to look at ourselves?  Is it because we want to avoid the tough questions?  Is it because if we were really honest with ourselves, we would see that we need a lot of work and don’t want to commit to make a change?  Even if our heart is in the right place and we’re honestly wanting to help someone, we often find ways to avoid looking at our own shortcomings.

Jesus wants us to look inward. If we’re going to follow and obey Him, we have to be willing to look objectively at our lives and see where we’re falling short; not to shame us and make us feel guilty, but to grow us closer into relationship with Him.

If we want to give others our best, we have to be our best.  When I became a parent, and then a grandparent, I developed a new appreciation for this concept of self-care and self-love.  I find that if I’m happy, de-stressed, calm, and in overall harmony with God, my relationship with my daughters and granddaughters benefits.  When I’m tired, overwhelmed, or empty, my relationship with them suffers.  In no way do I consider this an easy feat.  Self-reflection takes practice and discipline, but the reward of an everlasting relationship with Jesus makes it worth the effort.  Remember, “….and the measure with which you measure will be measured out to you.”

Taking fatherhood seriously

 

Father’s Day honors the man in the family bearing resemblance to God the Father, “from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named” (Ephesians 3:15).  This places dads in good company, because they do many good things for the rest of us, as I realized when I contemplated my own dad in the light of the Scriptures today.

Like a lot of traditional dads, my dad was the ‘maintenance man’ of our family, while Mom was the ‘indoors keeper’ of the family—more or less.  Dad did the lawncare, tree trimming, gutter-cleaning, building maintenance, car repairs, etc.  I think this fits in with a passage from Job, who presents his own understanding of God as Father, engaged in more or less similar kinds of activities, like setting boundaries for the sea, deploying clouds as frills (decorations) around the seas edges, and darkness suggesting the depths beneath, keeping it land-locked so as to prevent it invading areas where it doesn’t belong.  This is God the Father’s job-description in His version of being a maintenance man: keeping things running smoothly and in good order (Job 38:1-11).

Like His human counterparts, God the Father wants His (human) family to be off to a good start.  This is St. Paul’s take on God the Father (2 Corinthians 5:14-17).  He leaves His imprint on the human family He has gotten underway, sending us Someone in His own image and likeness: Jesus.  Every father takes pride in the family He leads, seeing traces of his own image in the children swelling the family ranks.  His name (and ours, if we’re faithful Christians) is as good as gold in certifying the trustworthiness of family transactions: accounts, purchases, taxes.  The family should be reflective the father’s value system, and this becomes evident everywhere: in the neighborhood, the school, in recreational venues and workplaces.  Jesus recognized this in predicting: “By this shall all men know you are my followers, by your love for one another” (John 13:35).  As St. Paul says, family members operate on a different level, their own unique traits and characteristics: whoever is in Christ is a new creation: old ways of identifying the family may have to pass away and be replaced by new things that do it better.  The father is the major influence in setting the family tone, just like God the Father and the Christian family.

And let’s not forget the fear factor that insinuates itself into everyone’s life.  Fathers are made to offset such fears.  This is how Jesus His Son, His own image and likeness, saw it in proceeding in Mark’s gospel by going to sleep in the boat struggling to hold its own against a fierce storm on the Sea of Galilee (Mark 4: 35-41).  Jesus’ trust in His Father’s oversight and loving care and presence was more than equal to the storm’s fury threatening His band of followers.   And dads carry on that same protective concern against taunts, bullying, put-downs for the clothes children wear, or the kind of food they eat, or the entertainment they enjoy.  Dads also offset the dangers of a flat tire, or a broken scooter or malfunctioning skates, or a threatening dog: all potential threats needing someone to take charge and calm fears down.  And that’s the father of the family.  With God the Father’s care always close at hand, the father of the family has an image at hand to be the take-charge guy, assuring that all is well.  That’s how I remember my dad (and my father-in-law, too!).

The sense of fatherhood provides the security of management and control, of identity, of protective care.   It embodies a pathway for coming to know God as Father.  And it identifies a major help in appreciating the man of the house as someone standing in for the comforting and protective assurance that help is always nearby, especially when we remember to pray: Our Father, who art in heaven…

Carpe diem

 

Jesus tells us that we can’t love God and “mammon” (money), that we can’t “serve two masters”.   “Mammon” must be understood as a love that becomes an unhealthy attachment and desire.  Money is such that we can “love” it by allowing our desires for it to become disordered and, thus, exclude the will of God from that “love.”  Money isn’t evil when it’s used solely in accord with the will of God.  In that case, the money we use will give God great glory.  But when money, or any other object of our desire, begins to take on a life of its own, so to speak, then that desire will be at odds with our love of God.  To love God and God alone means we love God and all that He wills us to love in life.

When we consider the command we’ve been given from God to love, it’s true that we must love not only God, but also many other things in life.  We must love family, friends, neighbors, and even our enemies.  Hopefully, we also love other aspects of our lives, such as our vocation, our job, our home, a certain pastime, etc.  So how do we love God with singular devotion when we also have many other things we must love?

The love of God is such that when we make God the singular object of our love and devotion, the love we have for God will supernaturally overflow.  This is the nature of the love of God.  As we love God, we’ll find that God calls us to love Him by loving other people, and even various aspects of our lives.  As we love what God wills us to love and as we express our love for all that’s contained in the will of God, we’re still loving God with all our heart, mind, soul and strength.

In today's world, it’s increasingly more and more difficult to have time to do the things we want to do.  Managing work and household responsibilities can become tremendously tedious and time consuming.  Yet the Scriptures I reflected on today (2 Corinthians 12:1-10, Matthew 6:24-34) aren’t about responsibility, at least not in the worldly sense.  St. Paul and Jesus beckon us to live a little, to “Seize the Day” (Carpe diem).  That sounds great but making it practical with all the other responsibilities we carry can be quite difficult.  Here are three suggestions:

1. Pat yourself on the back.  You deserve it.  Live simply in today.  Give your concerns to God and let Him take over.  Then, don’t worry.

2. Offer it Up.  The next burden you have, be it large or small, try offering it up again as a cross you must bear.  For instance, I remember an incident that happened at work many years ago.  I was responsible for several different areas of my company’s operations.  To cope, I had to schedule certain tasks for certain days, and any variation would put me and my company in a bind.  One day, I was directed by my boss to “take a few minutes” out of my day to complete an unscheduled task that was ordinarily just that; “a few minutes.”   A “few minutes” turned into several hours because of a minor screwup by the last person to attempt the task.  You would have thought that the greatest injustice known to humanity had occurred if you were in earshot of the scene (in this case a few blocks).  I then realized that other frustrations--family, work stress--were affecting my ability to cope with the situation.  I then settled down and let go of my frustrations by offering them to God.  That was all it took, for the rest of the task went smoothly and I was in peace.  As this story demonstrates, offering our burdens to God helps us bear them.  Paul reminds us that when we take on burdens, or when we are weak, we are strong.

 

3. Visit Nature.  Don't make special plans to get out of town or go to the park for a picnic.  If you have the time, great--do those things.  But if you're like most people and have little realistic free time, all you have to do is look out the nearest window to be reminded of God's grandeur.  You could be riding a bus to work and all you see is a barren parking lot.  Look closer and you might see a shoot of grass or a dandelion in full bloom shooting up bravely through a crack in the asphalt.  God is there as God is everywhere around us.  Take a brief moment--just 15 seconds--and you might be surprised at what you discover.  It's easy to see the greatness of God in the simple things found in Nature.

Perhaps all it takes sometimes is a reminder of how to be in relation with God.  Peace be with you on your journeys.

Getting to the heart of the matter

 

St. Paul reminds us in his letter to the church in Corinth that we’re called to focus on the one reality that most matters: our relationship with God.  (2 Corinthians 11:18-30).

Paul’s “boast” was made up of the many ways that he had suffered for Christ in his ministry to the churches he founded.  He’d been imprisoned, beaten, endured all kinds of hardships, traveled extensively around the world of his time.  He endured all these negative experiences for the sake of Christ and the churches he led to the Gospel of Christ.

Paul’s letter is a wonderful, if stark, account of the hardships surrounding the preaching of the gospel.  He calls on the Corinthians (and us) to stay firm in his preaching to them.  They (we) are to avoid the contradictions brought about by those who seek to turn the people away from the faith received by Paul.

Where Paul encourages the church to stick to the essentials and hold them strongly, the gospel asks us to determine what is our “treasure.”  To discover our treasure is to find out where our heart is: with God or (selfishly) only with ourselves.  Sometimes we consider the treasure only from a negative perspective – what do we treasure?  Things that draw us away from God’s love and Jesus’ life of joy and peace.  Definitely needed, but there is another side also to consider.

“…do not store up for yourselves…where your treasure is, there also will be your heart…the lamp of the body is the eye” (Matthew 6:19-23)

We’ve all experienced great treasures in this past year and several months.  There have been so many examples recently of those whose treasure has been exhibited in profound service to those who contracted the dreaded Covid19.

Think of all those who, despite the pandemic, heroically gave themselves over to deep healing of those hobbled even to death by Covid.  We’ve all seen video of doctors, nurses and medical staffs beaten down by impossible shifts and extraordinary demands on their skills and energy.  Facing crushing odds and seemingly defeated, they stayed on task despite the patients who died by the thousands.   Think, too, of the wives, husbands and other loved ones completely separated from the ill; not able to visit and wipe the burning brows and hold the hands of their dear ones.

My reflection today also brought me to consider how ‘things’ can control our life!  Things we ‘need’, things we ‘want’, things to ‘make life easier’, things to prove ‘status’, ‘wealth’, ‘happiness’, ‘achievement’.  Things to fill our time, our homes, our workplaces.  Things to obsess over, worry about, and sometimes hoard!  I sometimes think ‘things’ are the American way!

In the gospel, Jesus shows us another way, the way of God, the way to open us to the ‘treasure’ of living in God’s kingdom.  Be careful, he says, pay attention – pay attention to your behaviors, to your longings and to true awareness.

He warns against pleasures that will ‘wear out’ or can be ‘eroded away’…don’t collect, gather or hoard that which can be ‘stolen away’.  These kinds of treasures will only lead to disappointment – things like that can’t last forever!

Jesus reminds us that while ‘things’ are not unimportant, they do need to be kept in perspective!  Some questions may be ‘do I need this…or do I want this’?  How can I share this?  How does this change me – does it feed my ego or open my heart? 

If the eye is the window that lets in the light – what smudges do I need to wipe away to see more clearly what is being taken in?  The smudges of prejudice, bias, jealousy, self-centeredness can prevent us from seeing clearly, just as ‘things’ can isolate us from the truth and reality that envelops us. We’re called to live in harmony with ourselves, others and God.  What ‘things’ or ‘smudges’ might be preventing this harmony within you?  Today’s a good day to spend some time with the Lord – what might he be saying to you or trying to point out to you?  “Where your treasure is, there also will be your heart…”

A declaration of hope

 

Take a moment to think about something you’re passionate about.  It may be your life's work or calling.  It may be your desire to raise your kids with solid values, "make a difference" in the culture of your workplace, or to recognize and speak out against social injustice.  When our efforts are misunderstood, when we’re unappreciated, when we’re the target of complaints and accusations or face other roadblocks in attempts to be true to our values, principles and commitments, we get defensive.  We try harder to prove that our mission should be everyone's mission.

I’m reminded of St. Paul, who was clearly feeling quite misunderstood in his mission of preaching the good news, frustrated in his attempts to invite women and men into a personal relationship with Christ, and through Christ, to God, the source of all life and love (2 Corinthians 11:1-11). 

Like Paul, we too can start getting defensive—even sarcastic in our dealings with others.  Jesus taught us a better way.  Rather than a lot of anxious words, Jesus told us to keep it simple.  He said to His disciples: "In praying, do not babble like the pagans." (Matthew 6:7)

It’s good to reflect upon the prayer Jesus taught us, so that we'll be less likely to "babble on" this Sunday when we recite His prayer together, in common.  Even powerful words can become so automatic, that they can lose quite a bit of their power.  For example, we should say, "I love you" to everyone we love, every day.  But we have to say those three simple words knowing what they mean and letting that meaning come from our heart to the people we love.

During the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus taught His disciples, the crowd that assembled that day, and now us what has aptly become known as “the Lord’s prayer.” (Matthew 6:9-15).  Why did Jesus teach us to pray in precisely this way?  Maybe because this prayer offers the most truthful account of who we are and how we should live.

“Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name.”  There is a God who absolutely surpasses us, a God to whom we are bound and accountable; but a God who as Father also draws near, watches over us, endlessly cares for us and seeks our good.  This God who is holy is perfectly good, perfectly just, and perfectly loving, and thus deserves our adoration and praise.

“Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”  God’s kingdom is the community where love, goodness, justice, and peace abound.  It’s the exultant joy that comes when every person’s dignity is affirmed and where every creature flourishes.  Heaven is the everlasting bliss that results when God’s will is flawlessly followed; and points the way for what we should strive for in our world now.

“Give us this day our daily bread.”  God wants to fill the deepest hungers of our lives.  For some it will be a prayer for food, shelter, clothing, and safety.  Others will pray for healing and hope.  Many today pray that loneliness will be vanquished by the assurance that somebody knows and cares.  And, sadly, for countless others their “daily bread” will be the courage needed to endure suffering, tragedy, and seemingly inconsolable loss.

“And forgive us the wrong we have done as we forgive those who wrong us.”  We live only by the forgiveness and mercy of God and, in gratitude, are to share that same mercy and forgiveness with others.  Forgiveness is always a path to life because it’s what makes us most like God.

“And do not subject us to the final test, but deliver us from the evil one.”  This is traditionally said, “And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil”.  It’s a bit of a bad translation.  God can’t lead us into temptation; He wants to protect us from all the traps that are out there for us every day –the ones that surprise us, but also the familiar ones we fall into because they've become a part of our patterns.  We need only to ask Him for deliverance and freedom.

And so it is that to say “Amen” to the Lord’s prayer is always an unassailable declaration of hope and confidence.

Striving to become a cheerful giver

 

“God loves a cheerful giver” (2 Corinthians 9:6-11).  I love this phrase from Corinthians, not just in its meaning for alms and good works.  God doesn’t just mean that we smile when we write out a check or grin when we drop off clothes at Goodwill (thought I think that’s a good idea too.)  When I reflect on what “God loves a cheerful giver” means, it reminds me of finding God in all things, in our day-to-day lives—not only when we’re in church or praying or performing service.  I want to be a cheerful giver among my co-workers, my neighbors, the woman at the checkout line at the grocery store.

I can give of my time and my smile.  I can be patient and kind, even when I don’t feel overly patient or kind.  I can take a deep breath before becoming annoyed.  It’s those seemingly small times in life, when we give of ourselves that I believe we’re truly becoming a cheerful giver.  It’s when we truly pay attention to our family members, instead of just nodding because we’ve heard that story before.  We can be cheerful givers when we put away or turn off the TV or the cell phone and pay attention to those around us.

In Matthew’s gospel (Matthew 6:1-18), Jesus speaks about some ways to pray that aren’t really prayer, in the traditional sense.  For myself, I believe that the traditional description is the best: prayer is raising your mind and your heart to God.

I think that as far as most of our prayer is concerned, we act as babies do; we signal our dependence with a wail for milk or, as we grow older, with a succession of "gimme" demands that don't always have a "please" or a "thank you" attached to them.  We spend much of our time asking God for things we think that we need, even good things that He wishes to give us, and pitifully little time in thanking Him, in asking what we can do for Him, in asking that He enlighten us about Himself and His desires, or even simply surrendering ourselves to Him in complete gratitude and trust.  We’re very much aware of what we want and where we get it from, but we think only of the getting and not of the Giver.

I think that the best prayer is more about our lifting our whole minds and hearts to God, directing our entire attention and all our faculties to Him, and simply being present to an Almighty Father who already knows what we need.  More than only asking, such prayer is opening ourselves to let Him reveal His Self to us and to receive whatever it is that He wants us to know and to have.  Such prayer leaves God free to be God.

God also reveals us to ourselves, letting us see who we are and understand our relationship to him, showing us how we are loved and where we need to grow.  There’s an incredible number of ways in which He can do this, as each of us is individual and each day we respond to Him differently and grow towards Him in a new way.  But a great deal of such prayer is the Holy Spirit addressing us on our deepest levels, speaking in ways far beyond our words or understanding and in ways that will bear visible fruit in us only later, at the proper moment.

We can and should respond to Christ's call by simply going to a place of silence and gently opening our hearts to the One who loves us more than we do ourselves.

The words of Matthew’s gospel also serve as a reminder that what we do in service, in prayer, or in fasting should come so naturally to us that it’s a seamless part of our lives. The giving and the praying aren’t exceptions but the rule.  I pray that God helps me become a cheerful giver.