It's the little things

Today is the feast day of St. Thérèse of the Child Jesus, also known as St. Thérèse of Lisieux or St. Thérèse “the little flower.”  We associate St. Thérèse with the spirituality of the ‘little way’ – living out God’s call for us, practicing our love for God in the everyday, mundane, seemingly insignificant, parts of our lives.  At the end of every Mass, we’re told to “go in peace to love and serve the Lord”.  When I think of this directive, what comes to mind immediately is loving my friends and family, using the resources of time, talent, and treasure I have to serve the needs of my community, and to advocate for justice.  What St. Thérèse might invite us in response to this end of Mass instruction might be more challenging.

This raises a couple of questions we might ourselves:  How might we practice love when responding to an annoying email at work?  Can dishwashing (my least favorite chore) be a task done in love?  Can washing our face or brushing our teeth be a time to praise God?

According to St. Thérèse, the answer is yes, and up to us to make it so.  Dishwashing is one of my least favorite chores, but if I use that time to offer gratitude for the food that nourished me and pray for all the people who had a hand in that food being a part of my meal then this mundane task becomes prayer and a response to God’s love.  You might be familiar with those annoying emails, but what difference would it make if we took a moment to breathe, to ask for the grace we need in the moment, and to respond to the email with more patience?  I can tell you from experience it makes a noticeable difference!

Years ago, the chore I absolutely hated was mowing the lawn.  We had a dog then, too, so I would have to start by getting out the shovel and cleaning up after him.  I hated stepping in his mess, or worse yet, tracking it into the house.  Then I would trim around the house, and edge the lawn, all of this while the dog would try (unsuccessfully) to play with me.  Every week, it was the same routine—clean up after the dog, trim, and edge.  But for some reason, as soon as I brought the lawn mower out of the garage, my thoughts would often turn to God.  Maybe because I mowed the lawns on Sundays, my only day off.  Or maybe it was because when I was a child my mother taught me to offer my suffering up to God whenever I was doing something I didn’t like to do.  Whatever the reason, I used this time alone to pray my rosary.  It made the task more palatable—even, in a way, more meaningful for me.  Even so, I was ecstatic the day we hired a gardener to take over the chore!

Back when I had to drive hundreds (sometimes thousands) of miles each week for work, that simple task could become very mundane very quickly.  It became the perfect time for prayer.  In fact, sometimes I even tried singing my rosary, just for variety.  I know that God understands that saying the rosary by rote can get to be boring and tedious, so I hoped that He didn’t mind if I “jazzed” it up a little bit now and then.  Again, praying and offering up even my boredom and exhaustion somehow ‘elevated’ my spirit and made my prayers seem more worthwhile, which in turn made my interactions with others more loving when I reached my destination. 

Imagine the people Jesus sent out in the Gospel (Luke 10:13-16).  They were to make way for Jesus and to not only set the place but prepare the people for Jesus’ arrival.  I imagine that they too considered the little ways, along with the big tasks, that they were called to do in a way of living out God’s love.

“Today, may there be peace within.

May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be. 

May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.

May you use those gifts that you have received and pass on the love that has been given to you.

May you be content knowing that you are a child of God.

Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love.

It is there for each and every one of us.”  –St. Thérèse of Lisieux 

Sweeter than honey

 

I may be one of the only people to read passages in the Bible and come away with a theme of the importance of enjoying food!

For example, Nehemiah goes into great detail about an address by Ezra to the people assembled. Following Ezra’s reading of the book of the law of Moses, and the somber, serious mood that created, he tells the people to "Go, eat rich foods and drink sweet drinks, and allot portions to those who had nothing prepared; for today is holy to our LORD. Do not be saddened this day, for rejoicing in the LORD must be your strength!" (Nehemiah 8:1-12)

The story goes on to say that the people did indeed “eat and drink, to distribute portions, and to celebrate with great joy, for they understood the words that had been expounded to them.”

Psalm 19, which instructs that “the precepts of the Lord give joy to the heart,” also mentions a delicacy, saying that the Lord’s precepts, and the joy they should bring us, are “sweeter than syrup or honey from the comb.”  (Psalms 19:8- 11)

And in the Gospel, Jesus instructs His 72 disciples on many things, equipping them for their ministry and mission of taking the good news out to others.  In one instruction, He says to “eat and drink what is offered to you.” (Luke 10:1-12)

Perhaps God wants to make sure we understand that we have permission to enjoy food and drink, to celebrate with it, to not feel guilty about indulging when there is a good reason.  Dining is of such importance that Jesus even feels it’s necessary to tell His disciples to be polite and enjoy the hospitality that’s offered them.

The key is, however, to use the food and drink as a means to celebrate the truly important things in life, which are God’s love for us, God’s care for us and God’s precepts for our lives.  That’s where the real joy is, as the psalmist says, but, as humans, one way we have of showing that joy is celebrating with our friends, families and neighbors with delicious food and drink.  And that’s a good thing, pleasing to the Lord.

Message received

 

As Marilyn and I near our 47^th wedding anniversary in a couple of weeks, I find myself wondering how in the world we’ve been able to not only to maintain, but to grow in love each day.  I think a lot of it is simply because we know each other so well, and we communicate our love for one another often.  We may not always use words, but as in any communication process, it isn’t enough to hear what the other says, but to understand what the person is trying to say.  True, loving communication is based on the couple truly being present to and with one another, open to giving and receiving what and who each other is.

After reading Scriptures celebrating the feast of the Archangels Michael, Raphael and Gabriel, I reflected on how we understand angels in our Judeo-Christian tradition.  In the scriptures, angels are seen as attending to God (Daniel 7:9-14; John 1:47-51), protectors and guardians (Revelation 12:7-12), and messengers/communicators between God and humans (Genesis 28; Tobit 3-12; Luke 1:26-38; Matthew 28:5-7).

Though my imagination as a child was more engaged with the idea of angels as guardians and protectors, my adult understanding centers more in angels as messengers/ communicators of God.

Today, we might not be visited by an angel as in Mary’s annunciation or the announcement of Jesus’ resurrection, but God continues to communicate with us in special ways.  The question is, how open are we to God’s attempts to speak to us?

The old television series, “Touched By An Angel”, attempted to show God’s presence in the world today through the actions of others.  A search of the web, or any religious bookstores, will turn up lots of angel statues, images, etc. that can remind us of the people who bless us with their loving presence in our lives.

However, it isn’t enough for a message to be sent.  There must be a ‘receiver’, open to the message and ready to attempt to understand and respond in order for the communication to really take place.

For me, making time for reflection and prayer is essential to opening myself to God’s communication/ presence in my life.  It is then that I realize how often I’m touched by God in my life through others…in their care, concern, acts of kindness, words of challenge, and unconditional love.  And – it’s a reminder that I’m called to also be God’s presence – to communicate/make God ‘real’ in my actions and words to others.

Jesus is calling us to move on

 

As Jesus and His disciples entered a Samaritan village on their way to Jerusalem, they weren’t welcomed.  James and John were immediately on the defense and wanted to retaliate!  “Lord, do you want us to call down fire from heaven to consume them?” (Luke 9:51-56)

We’re all so very human and like James and John; we want to even the score when we feel we’ve been wronged, or some injustice has been wrought upon those we love.  We’ve become a people quick to anger and slow to forgive!  Our world is filled with violence and unrest!  It’s become the norm to call for someone’s job, throw the first punch, or—God forbid—pick up a gun which ultimately ends in tragedy.  When did we become a people who favor revenge over reconciliation?!

The first step to peace and reconciliation is to remember that God is with us!  God is love!  God sees all people and creation with the eyes of love and as the love children we are, we’re called to see the love of God in others, especially those we don’t even like! 

“Let us go with you, for we have heard that God is with you.” (Zechariah 8:20-23).  God is with us, no matter our nationality, creed or color, whether vaccinated or unvaccinated, young or old.  If we truly believe this, then what is stopping us from taking back our neighborhoods, churches, schools, families, cities, towns and country.  It’s way past time to promote reconciliation rather than revenge, to live in love rather than anger.

It’s time to recognize and appreciate the goodness of God found in the beauty of family, friends, nature, moral and just leaders.  Jesus rebuked His disciples and journeyed on to another village.  It’s time for us to do the same.  Let’s begin in small ways, maybe making that phone call to someone we haven’t spoken to in a long time, get reconnected, be willing to say I’m sorry, let’s begin again!  Let’s be willing to sit at the same table with those we totally disagree with the goal of working together to find a common ground.  Let’s move on.

The greatest

 

I have amazing grandchildren.  They surprise me every time I see them – they’re so smart and funny, and they have the sweetest little hearts.  But I often think about how simple their little minds are at this age, not just my grandchildren, but all children.  It makes me realize that, as I grew up, how that innocence and simplicity seems to be a fleeting memory as I reached adulthood.  There’s an innocence to a child’s thoughts and actions; a simplicity that we may have long ago forgotten.

So, when Jesus brings a child to him to sit at his right side, what an honorable place for this little innocent, humble soul (Luke 9:46-50)!  “The least among you is the greatest.”  With a child, there’s no pride-fulness, no vanity or self-aggrandizement.  Their hearts are pure, and we should empty ourselves of all those things that prevent us from having that pure and simply beautiful relationship with Christ.

We should cleanse ourselves of those things that prevent us from having a heart that is pure; to honor our God with our humility and serve Him as Jesus did.

Love is inclusive, not exclusive

 

I found so many contemporary themes and threads that poignantly challenge us in our own day weaving their way through the scripture passages I reflected on today, that I’m not sure where to start. 

First, Eldad and Medad began to prophesy when they weren’t in the tent when the Spirit descended on the other seventy (Numbers 11:25-29).  This really upset some of the people who complained to Moses, “Moses, my lord, stop them.”  But Moses answered, “Would that all the people of the Lord were prophets! Would that the Lord might bestow God’s spirit on them all!” I wonder who we would complain about “not being in the tent when the spirit was giving out the gift of prophesy?”

Then in the Book of James (James 5:1-6) we read this: “The wages you withheld from the workers who harvested your fields are crying aloud; and the cries of the harvesters have reached the ears of the Lord of hosts. You have lived on earth in luxury and pleasure; you have fattened your hearts for the day of slaughter.”  We profess our faith in Jesus yet mistreat or tolerate the abuse of others and say, “Thanks be to the Lord that we are not like them.” (Luke 18:11)

And from the Gospel of Mark, Jesus chastised His ‘beloved’ favorite disciple, John, who complained that others not of the inner circle were preaching in Jesus’ name.  More of the same…WE are the chosen, not them.  Jesus didn’t go for it (Mark 9:38-48).

We spend so much useless energy these days debating who’s in and who’s out.  Who’s one of us and who’s not, who looks like us and who doesn’t, or who speaks our language or not.  We spend so much useless time demonizing others and not seeing our own insecurities and hurts that we cover over with riches or privilege.  We’re all children of God called to be welcoming and generous with all we encounter.  To be a believer in Jesus and the Gospel is to include not exclude.

Demolition, rebuilding, remodeling

 

Hi! My name is Steve, and I’m an HGTV junkie.  There are days that I actually stream entire seasons of home renovation shows in one sitting.  From the Property Brothers to Holmes and Holmes to Help! I wrecked my house!, and four or five other shows, I’m addicted to all of them! So when I sat down with the Bible today to reflect, I had to chuckle at first.  The selections I read were, in effect, all about demolition, rebuilding, and remodeling.

The story of Zechariah, at least the first part, is set in the context of the Jews returning from the Babylonian exile and the subsequent rebuilding of Jerusalem and the temple.  In my Old Testament reading today, Zechariah saw a man who was about to measure Jerusalem in order to have a starting point, I suppose, with which to begin rebuilding.  But, before he could begin his measuring, an angel tells Zechariah to speak to the guy, declaring that the Lord already had the plan and vision for the rebuilding (Zechariah 2:5-15).

The gospel also is set in the context of Jesus beginning to foretell the destruction of the temple of His body, and Its rebuilding in three days (John 2:19).  The Lord already had the plan and vision for the destruction and rebuilding that was quite beyond the grasp of the disciples (Luke 9:43-45).

So, as I think about rebuilding and remodeling, and all of the times that God has had a vision and plan for the rebuilding and remodeling of my life that went beyond my wildest dreams, I can liken it to any rebuilding of a physical space—the comparisons aren’t so far off.  When one is looking over the piles of dust and dry wall and knee-deep debris that are necessarily present during any reconstructive effort, maybe we can relate.  Maybe we can hear the gospel being spoken in the midst of the mess we stand in.

I think I know how it hurts to be torn up.  I have sometimes choked on the litter left by my own remodeling.  I know what it's like to settle into the fear and hopelessness of believing that I’m wasted space.  I have felt the blows of heavy hammers that nailed me to a sense of uselessness.  Some pretty careless workers who came to the task of making me without any real skill or vision have shaped me, at times.  I know the pain of wanting to be changed and yet being distrustful of changes, of wanting to be worked on, but being suspicious of the intentions of the worker.  But, however messy it is now, however confusing and scary it appears, however endless the task may seem, we will someday be complete and renewed.  There is much tearing out to do—a lot to give up.  As Mike Holmes (of the aforementioned Holmes and Holmes) has said many times on his program, “Make it right!”  Imperfections must be torn out and corrected, not covered up.  Perfection, solidity, art—these take time.  But we’re not wasted space, we’re temples of a Being greater than ourselves, temples being built to be inhabited and brought to life.  Though we may not understand the process and plan, our Rebuilder does.  We are God's and the place where He lives.  We are being made by a Master Carpenter.

A wall of fire that will not burn us but will protect us, guide us, and be the glory while the building is going on, also encircles us, as the Holy Spirit did for the Israelites as they escaped from Egypt (Exodus 13:21-22).  And thankfully, we only have to deliver ourselves into the hands of God in order to be rebuilt.

The most important question

 

The gospel I reflected on this evening today is one that, for me, proves the adage, “The Gospel is ever new.”  The “newness” isn’t that the words we read or hear were never there before (and thus new).  Rather, the “newness” is that I have changed, and the gospel passage is being heard, in a sense, by a new me.

For instance, when today I read, “Once when Jesus was praying in solitude, and the disciples were with him, he asked them, “Who do the crowds say that I am?” (Luke 9:18)

I think it’s interesting that Jesus was both “praying in solitude” and that “the disciples were with him.”  I drove for hours at a time for many years in my career; when I retired, I made the decision that I didn’t want to do a whole lot of driving anymore.  So on longer car rides with my family, I am usually a passenger in the back seat.  I often take this time, with my family around me, to ‘pray in solitude’ while enjoying the countryside, as they converse back and forth.  Prayer gives me a feeling of happiness and fulfillment.

Throughout our lives, we’re constantly looking for fulfillment in one form or another.  We want to be happy.  We want enjoyment in life.  We have a natural desire for happiness that we’re constantly seeking to fulfill.  To me, the greatest happiness comes by sharing in the deep human prayer of the Son to the Father.  Prayer, true prayer, is the answer to our deepest desire.

Getting back to the gospel (Luke 9:18-22), Jesus first asks His disciples a factual question, “Who do the crowds say that I am?”  The people who have been listening to Jesus consider Him a prophetic presence like John the Baptist, Elijah, or one of the ancient prophets.  They see Jesus as a man of God and thus special like the prophets were.

Then Jesus asks the disciples a much more difficult question, “who do YOU say that I am?”  Peter articulates the truth about Jesus: “the Christ of God.”  In Matthew’s version of this story (Matthew 16:13-17), Jesus is amazed at Peter’s answer and acknowledges that Peter’s insight into Jesus (that He is the Christ, the Messiah) doesn’t come from his own thinking.  Jesus recognizes that Peter’s insight comes from God.

Jesus’ questions come to us as well as to the disciples.  We can say fairly clearly what the scholars, for example, say about Jesus – who He is, what He did, when He lived, what were His accomplishments, joys, sorrows – but the real question is who I, like Peter, say that Jesus is.

The answer to that question is found in the ongoing and deepening way that I understand and express who Jesus is for me as I am right now.  The question and the answer are both part of the ongoing relationship that I have with Jesus.  And since it’s part of that most important relationship in my life, it’s constantly revealing more and more of the wonders of who Jesus is for me.

This is why the encounter with Jesus is always new.  The encounter with Him reveals to me who I am in relationship to Him.  I need to hear and answer that question (Who do YOU say that I am?) not just once or twice, but constantly.

The “Who do YOU say that I am” question challenges us again and again.

We need to be as bold as Peter in answering Jesus’ identity question.  We need to open ourselves to God’s own teaching our hearts who Jesus is for us.  Then we can be impelled to live our lives out of the truth of the answer.  It’s the most important question we’re called on to answer because it defines our ongoing relationship with Christ.

Renovations

Over the past 18 months the pandemic kept many of us “sheltering in place” and spending more time at home.

And, if you’re like my wife and I, the more time we spent at home, the more we noticed little projects or even major renovations that needed to be done.

But today I asked myself what attention did I give to our spiritual home; the home that’s the most important for us to be continually updating and renovating?  Are we looking deep inside to see what improvements are needed in our faith life, or are we focused only on the tangible?

For some of us there has been no updating or remodeling of our spiritual home since possibly our eight-grade confirmation.  For others, daily prayer and reflection have made clear the changes that are needed in our spiritual homes, how we live our lives and how we interact with those around us.

As we go about our life today we need to remind ourselves of the words of the prophet Haggai and focus our attention not on our material needs, or as so aptly stated, our “own paneled houses,” but rather “to work to build up the house of the Lord through our thoughts, words and deeds” (Haggai 1:1-8).  And to remember that Jesus is constantly at our side, a guest at our house who, fortunately, will never leave us—one who is always there to help and guide us to do what is right and just.

And if we do look inward each and every day to improve our spiritual home, then we, too, can take comfort in the words of Haggai when he said, “Go up into the hill country; bring timber, and build the house That I may take pleasure in it and receive my glory, says the LORD.

It's enough to just plant the seed, sometimes

As followers of Christ, part of our mission here on earth is to share the Good News and point people to God.  It’s good to take that charge seriously because I believe there are many people, like myself, who are lost without Jesus and whose lives can be dramatically altered for the better by knowing Him. However, I think there can come a point where that valuable time spent building into someone can become wasted time.

Over several years, I had spiritual conversations with people I met at work who seemed interested in hearing more about Christ.  Whether it was a one-time conversation or going so far as to ‘sponsor’ them in structured RCIA classes (Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults) I would find myself overly excited to share with them my personal faith story and how they, too could experience a peace that surpasses all understanding, anxious about the prospect of them making the choice to follow Christ.  More often than not, I found myself waiting, hoping, and praying for them only to have them lose interest. What did I do wrong?  Did my persistence and excitement have the opposite affect and drive them off?  Perhaps it’s as Jesus says in the Gospel of Luke, “And for those who do not welcome you, when you leave that town, shake the dust form your feet….” (Luke 9:1-6)

I’ve realized through these experiences that sometimes we’re just called to sow the seed.  God will water it and grow it on His own time.  We didn’t fail; we did our job by loving that person and planting with them the good news.  If we let Him, God will use us to change other lives.  And who knows?  That person we were building into may return to the memory of our sharing with them, praying for them, or leading them to Christ later when they’re in the lows of life.  We pray not that God would use us to change one life, but that He would use us to impact many. 

Homework

 

As one of my grade-school teachers explained to me a long time ago, homework is important because it’s supposed to get us to dig deeper into a particular subject and gain some confidence in our knowledge and understanding.  The image of homework came to me in my reflection on the scripture readings for the Feast of St. Matthew.  Jesus, the Great Teacher, was assigning the Pharisees some homework when He said to them, “Go and learn the meaning of these words, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice’” (Matthew 9:9-13).

This assignment for the Pharisees is our assignment today, as well.  How do we react to this message?  Personally, I feel more comfortable thinking about sacrifice.  Sacrifice is concrete doing; doing something that we know to do.  Mercy seems fuzzy.

Jesus knew that the Pharisees knew the origin of the words.  The words come from Hosea 6:6; God told the people in Hosea that they were getting it all wrong by focusing on animal sacrifice and ritual instead of taking care of people.  Hosea went on to remind the people of how many times they had gone off track.

We can see in our own lives the ways we often go off track and how much we need mercy.  Thankfully we have a God of mercy.  We need mercy from one another too.  Praise God for all those who show us mercy.  When we show mercy to others in healthy ways we feel healing too.  Consider how Jesus stresses this message in His teachings.  The parable of the debtor and the king (Matthew 18:21-35) and the way He taught the disciples to pray (Luke 11:1-13) are just two examples of teachings that stress a message of forgiveness and mercy.

St. Paul’s Letter to the Ephesians provides a picture of what living our calling as Christians means.  He explains how important mercy is to live in this way: bearing with one another, having gentleness and patience, and striving for unity (Ephesians 4:1-13).   

As we honor Saint Matthew today it’s fitting that we see how mercy plays out in his calling.  The details are sparse, but Jesus appears to invite him with little notice and Matthew appears to accept the invitation and the mercy joyfully.  So joyfully, in fact, that he wants to share this calling and this Jesus with his friends.  He doesn’t insist that his friends “clean up their act” first, just as Jesus didn’t appear to require that of Matthew before his calling.  Yet, Matthew does walk away from the position that allowed him to take advantage of others and the gospel of Matthew emphasizes teachings of Jesus that set very high standards for caring for others and serving those who are disadvantaged.

There are times that I can be like the Pharisees.  I’m easily pulled into being skeptical of mercy.  I can miss the awesome and ironic power of mercy to help people (including me) live up to a higher standard. This is particularly the case when the standard that matters most is authentic love.   Receiving mercy helps us get back up again and helps us to do what is required to love others well, not out of a sense of righteousness and powerfulness, but with humility and compassion.  Isn’t love with humility and compassion what we so often see in Jesus?  Isn’t that what St. Paul, in his letter emphasizes in terms of living up to our calling?

May Jesus open our eyes today to the mercy He desires and the mercy He so graciously shows us through His Word, His Eucharist, and those around us.

Authentic Christianity

 

It may just be my own personal perception, but in today’s world it seems harder and harder to be a vocal Christian.  To be quite honest, I’m fearful sometimes that voicing my beliefs will offend others and get me into some kind of trouble.  I find myself purposefully avoiding commenting on Facebook, engaging in heated debates with ‘friends’ or inserting my opinion on delicate topics, all because I fear the retribution and attack of others.  This has stifled my eagerness to share the Gospel message, which is obviously not what I want, given that I write a daily blog post of my reflections on Scripture.

The Gospel according to Luke reiterates Jesus’ message to us that we need to put our lamp on a lampstand and be seen, not concealed (Luke 8:16-18).  If I’m an authentic, genuine Christian, my devotion to God will show through my love for others and my heart to serve.  I won’t have to say anything at all!  Not that I should keep quiet, either; I think we have to delicately balance when to be quiet and when to speak, and then ask God to guide our speech when appropriate.  But this is a good reminder to me that as Christians, it’s our love that separates us from others.  I don’t have to engage in aggressive discussions or disagreements with others to get my point across.  All I have to do is love.

What's our measure?

 

Do you ever feel like you’re being battered by all the people, issues, or ideas that are demanding your attention?  Whether it’s family activities, work obligations, social expectations, religious and personal values, economic and political pressures, there can be no doubt that all of us are under great pressure to give our attention and commitment to a wide variety of people and issues.  It takes a great deal of stamina and wisdom to evaluate and balance all the demands that are placed upon us.

So, what’s our measure?  How do we decide, among all the clamoring demands, which is worthy of our attention, which will bring life?

James tells us that, "the wisdom from above is first of all pure, then peaceable, gentle, compliant, full of mercy and good fruits, without inconstancy or insincerity.  And the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace for those who cultivate peace." (James 3:16-4:3)

In the book of Wisdom, we’re told that the "wicked" cynically seek to destroy the "just one" (Wisdom 2:12-20).  And in Mark’s gospel, Jesus chides His disciples about their poor choice in pursuing the "first place," reminding them that giving themselves for the sake of others is the best choice (Mark 9:30-37).

Sometimes the beliefs we cherish and the things we pursue fill us with anger and judgment about others.  We become cynical and untrusting of others.  We become hardened to the concerns of others and unwilling to acknowledge their sincerity.  If we find ourselves locked into these feelings, it’s time to reassess our attitudes and commitments.  James reminds us that the wisdom that comes from the Holy Spirit nourishes peace and gentleness within us, mercy toward others, and self-gift so others can thrive.  May the wisdom of that comes from the Holy Spirit guide us all.

Radical changes

 

It’s good for us to often take a rest from our busy schedules and to reflect on our life, to take stock of what we did during the past weeks, months and years, to assess the directions we’ve been going, and to compare our past, the current directions, and our anticipated future with the values of the Gospel and with our calling as Christians.  

Saint Paul presents powerful images of change his first letter to the Corinthians (1 Corinthians 15:35-49).  First he reminds us that life, as it is, is not the ultimate destination and our goal shouldn’t be to primarily focus on the world and what is important for us today.  He compares our life to a kernel of wheat, which was created to change, which has the potential to grow into something magnificent, that we can’t even imagine, bearing plentiful fruit.  So we shouldn’t hold on to what we treasure and enjoy today but to let go, or, to say it in Paul’s words, to “die”.  This enables us to reach our full potential as individuals, families and church.  Only then will the “corruptible” become “incorruptible,” the “dishonorable” become “glorious,” the “weak” become “strong,” and the “natural” become “spiritual.”

Because these words are abstract, it’s necessary to contemplate what this means for us in concrete terms.  For example, we may be quite content with our work and relationships and other aspects of our life.  St. Paul challenges us to evaluate these aspects and to come up with more appropriate and new ways for our lives that are bringing us a step closer to what we and our life ought to be.  Or maybe our faith communities may be pleased with their liturgies and service ministries.  These may have become dear traditions to us but may be quite imperfect and not addressing important aspects of Christian life and service.  By reflecting over our worship and involvement with the wider community we may identify imperfections and gaps and be able to address these, thus, getting a step closer to reaching our potential.

And such reflection and the resulting steps should be inspired by the Gospel.  Christ uses the parable of the Sower (Luke 8:4-15).  The seed is the Word of God, and we are the more or less receptive ground, the ones who more or less receive and live the Word of God.  Our faith may be weak, without roots, may be choked by anxiety and the pleasures of life.  The Word of God isn’t able to inspire and transform us. Or we may be like the ones “who, when they have heard the word, embrace it with a generous and good heart, and bear fruit through perseverance."  The Word of God encourages reflection and motivates action, bringing us closer to reaching our potential as individuals and as church.

We should never be satisfied with our current faith and life as it is.  Likewise, we should never be content with our church as she is today.  We should be inspired by the Word of God and be open for radical change, willing to “die,” and to come up with concrete steps that bring us closer to reaching our Christian potential as individuals, families, and church.

Content with a sufficiency

 

Even though he only had an eighth-grade education, my father was probably the smartest man I’ve ever known.  What he lacked in formal education he more than made up for in common sense and practical advice.  One of the most important lessons I learned from my dad was that “happiness isn’t found so much in what you have as in what you give”.   As I read St. Paul’s first letter to Timothy today, it sounded so much like the advice my dad gave me (1 Timothy 6:2-12).

Through his advice to Timothy, Paul tells us to be “content with a sufficiency” and reminded that if “we have food and clothing we have all that we need.”  Of course, we don’t swallow such advice easily, especially in a culture of consumerism that religiously trains us never to be content but to always want more and more; in a culture of consumerism, to be “content with a sufficiency” seems downright heretical.

It’s so easy to lose our way, to spend hefty portions of our lives sidetracked.  This happens when we let lesser goods (such as wealth and possessions) become more important than greater goods (such as God and other people).  But when we give lesser goods more attention than they deserve we lose all sense of what truly matters, all sense of what is genuinely valuable and good.  Even worse, while we may think money and material things will help us get ahead in life, if we set our hearts on loving them rather than God and our neighbors, we’ll slowly but surely destroy ourselves.  As Saint Paul emphatically reminds us: “Those who want to be rich are falling into temptation, and a trap. They are letting themselves be captured by foolish and harmful desires” which lead not to life and security, but “to ruin and destruction.”

Less is often better than more.  We’re called to embrace the simplicity of life not only because when we do we’re able to apprise the true value of everything, and not only because when some of us live with less the poor and destitute are able to live at all; but also because if we’re willing to be “content with a sufficiency,” we’ll finally discover where true life can be found.  As we’re reminded in the Gospel, it comes in following Jesus, joyfully “proclaiming the good news of the kingdom of God” as we do (Luke 8:1-3).

More than we can repay

 

It’s such a human tendency to rank and compare.  To increase their student bodies, colleges and universities hope for high rankings and publicize their top ratings compared to other schools.  We celebrate high rankings of our sports teams.  Successful businesses use rankings and comparisons and urge competitiveness in motivating their employees for better results.   

The scriptures I reflect on today insert a Jesus-focused perspective on rankings.  St. Paul’s letter to Timothy reminds us not to take a ranking by someone else to heart to our detriment.  Stay vigilant, set a good example, keep teaching and learning.  The letter to Timothy also includes an essential discipline for staying focused and vigilant in trying times – remembering the gifts we’ve been given by our faith community and our loving God.  St. Paul also reminds us that using these gifts and persisting despite how others may rate us, not only saves us, but also saves others around us (1 Timothy 4:12-16).  We inspire one another.  The scriptures repeatedly remind us to encourage one another.  We need encouragement and inspiration from one another.  We need to remind each other of our gifts and of the teaching to love one another and love and serve God above all else.

Then, in Luke’s gospel, Jesus reminds Simon (a “certain Pharisee”, not the Apostle) through a parable that all of us are indebted to God more than we could repay on our own (Luke 7:36-50).  All of us, regardless of how esteemed or how reviled we are by others, have access to mercy.  We all fail—and we all need mercy.  We so easily fall into a pattern of recognizing and commenting on failures – failures of others and our own failures.   I too easily fall into a pattern of continually reciting to myself and to others undone task after undone task.  I rate myself and rate others on completing tasks and bemoan the failures evident in so many undone tasks.  I can get so wrapped up in this focus on these failures that the more important priority of caring for others gets ignored, much like Simon who appears to have ignored basic hospitality care for Jesus.  Worry and focus on failures narrows our vision and our ability to use our gifts to their full effect.

 Jesus calls us to mercy and gratitude that expresses itself in care, teaching, and encouragement.  We’ve all been forgiven more than we can ever repay.  Why then, can’t we be extravagant in our gratitude for mercy, love, and gifts that we’ve experienced?  Why can’t we pour out that gratitude in love and encouragement to one another?

A perfect mother's perfect love

 

Our Blessed Mother, the Mother of the Son of God, loved her Son with a perfect love.  Her love for her Son was a love that was beyond what we could ever imagine.  She conceived Him miraculously, bore Him in her womb, gave birth to Him, nursed Him, raised Him and loved Him throughout His life.  It’s difficult to even imagine the depth and beauty of the love she had for Jesus.  Generally speaking, a mother’s love is powerful, unwavering, deep and filled with tenderness.  Try to imagine the Immaculate Heart of Mother Mary and the amazing depth of love alive in her heart.  I am reminded of a simple, but powerful scene in John’s Gospel: Standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene (John 19:25).

This loving mother stood at the foot of the Cross, gazing upon her crucified Son, continuing to exude every motherly virtue.  And because it’s hard to fathom the depth of her love for her Son, it’s also very hard to imagine the depth of sorrow and interior suffering she endured as she watched the cruelty toward Jesus unfold.  All she could do in that moment was stand by Him and with Him in this moment of extreme agony.  Her love was expressed, in that moment, by her fidelity to Him.

What’s beautiful to know is that love, sorrow, compassion and suffering were united as one within her Immaculate Heart.  Within the beauty of her heart was every human emotion, fueled by God’s grace, enabling her to give to her Son the greatest gift she had: her motherhood.  She was a true mother throughout her life, and, in this moment, as her Son hung on the Cross, her motherhood culminated in a perfect human expression.

We all long to be loved by another. To give and receive love is the greatest gift that we can give and receive.  Love is what we were made for and is the source of our fulfillment in life.  We can be certain that as Mother Mary stood at the foot of the Cross, her human heart experienced the greatest fulfillment ever known.  Her heart was fulfilled because she exercised her motherly love to perfection.

I think the best way to understand her heart of love is through prayerful meditation, asking our Blessed Mother to reveal her heart to us today.  In my opinion, one of the most powerful images of perfect motherly love is the Pieta, a sculpture carved from a single piece of granite by Michelangelo.  I took some time today and sat in silent adoration of this holy image of perfect motherly love.  I came to a couple of conclusions in my reflection.  First, Mother Mary has this same depth of love for each of us, no doubt about it. Her heart burns with compassion as she gazes upon us, even in our sin.  Second, I know that our Blessed Mother’s love must also fill our hearts and overflow into the lives of others.  We all must allow her compassion, concern, fidelity and mercy to flow through our hearts.  We need to ask ourselves, “Who do I need to love with the heart of our Blessed Mother?”  Seek to receive the love in the heart of the Mother of God and seek to give that love.  Receive it in and then allow it to flow forth.  There is truly nothing in this world more beautiful and awe inspiring than the holy image of this love.

Worn out? Look to the Cross!

As I read Scripture today, I came across a familiar story of human frailty.  “With their patience worn out by the journey, the people complained….” (Numbers 21: 4-9).  Often we set out on our daily adventures filled with expectations and hope, only to find barriers have been erected to spoil our plans.  Life is hard sometimes.  Humans are pretty good at adapting and working around these problems that inevitably come our way.  But sometimes we lose our nobility and blow a gasket.  That can happen more easily when we’re tired and hungry.  Our bodies can let us down, and many times perhaps all we need is a little nap and some food and drink to bring us back to our senses.  And if we can just have a friend to encourage us along the way, it’s much easier to be patient and bear up under adversity on the journey.   In this way, we’re really not that different from our young children.

Covid-19 seems to be lingering for what feels like forever.  Hurricanes, earthquakes, floods in most of the country and fires in the West has left a lot of us feeling a little “worn out” from the experience.  It should make us realize that we’re not masters of our destiny.  We do indeed depend on God for our very existence.  Over time, our patience can wear thin, and we wonder if He’s listening to our prayers.  Our elders reassure us, as they know these things happen and they don’t last forever.  But it still wears us out to wait, and we still seek assurance that God knows our needs.

When human undertakings are involved, we may add to our inquiries: “Who’s in charge here?” and “What in the world is going on?”!   That also seemed to be the case with the Israelites.  They began to doubt Moses’ leadership.  Instead of encouraging one another toward hope, they seemed to be encouraging despair and dissension.  They grumbled instead of pursuing something more constructive.  And of course, this wasn’t the first time.  They had been through this behavioral pattern before.  Slow learners, those Israelites.  Unfortunately, that pretty much describes me, too.

We can see the experience as an object lesson, in which the chastening of the Israelites was followed by salvation.  By following God’s command to raise up an instrument which symbolized something they feared (the saraphs), they were restored.   Many years later, that restoration would come in a more lasting and significant way through the wood of the cross.  Jesus, in John’s Gospel, connects up that story for us (John 3:13-17).  The cross of suffering, death, and shame becomes something we must behold if we’re to be restored.

May God help us to get the rest and food we need, and to have friends to encourage us along the way so that we may persevere instead of grumbling.   And may He also open our eyes to see and rejoice in the salvation He has brought for us.  

In all humility

 

“Lord, do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof.  Therefore, I did not consider myself worthy to come to you; but say the word and let my servant be healed.” (Luke 7:1-10)

As I reflect on this gospel today, what I find interesting is that these humble words, spoken by a Roman centurion, weren’t actually spoken by the centurion to Jesus.  This is because the centurion didn’t believe he was even worthy of going to Jesus himself.  Therefore, he sent some of his friends to speak these words to Jesus on his behalf.  In a real way, the friends of this centurion acted as intercessors before Jesus.  Jesus’ response was to express amazement at the centurion’s faith.  Jesus said to the crowd who was with Him, “I tell you, not even in Israel have I found such faith.”  And at that point, the servant was healed by Jesus from a distance.

Most of the time, if we have an important request to make of another, we do so in person.  We go to the person and speak face-to-face.  And though we certainly can go to our Lord in prayer, face-to-face, person to Person, there’s something very humble about bringing our needs to our Lord through the intercession of another.  Specifically, there’s something very humble about asking for the intercession of the saints. 

Seeking the intercession of the saints before our Lord isn’t done because we’re afraid of our Lord or because He would be offended by us going directly to Him.  It’s ideally done as an act of the utmost humility.  By entrusting our prayer to those who are in Heaven, gazing upon the face of God, we do entrust our prayer to God.  But relying upon the intercession of the saints is also a way of acknowledging that we are not worthy, by our own merits, to stand before the Lord and bring Him our request.  This humility can be difficult to understand at times, but it’s important to try.

What is it that you need to pray for in your life right now?  As you call that to mind, pick a saint to act as your friend and intercessor before God.  Turn to that saint in humility and say a prayer to that saint, admitting that you are not worthy of going to our Lord on your own. Then entrust your petition to that saint and ask him or her to present that prayer to our Lord on your behalf.  This is something my mother taught me from a very early age.  My “go to” Saints are Stephen and Gerard (whom I am named after), Saint James (I chose him as a special intercessor at my Confirmation when I was 14 years old), and Saint Joseph (because he is the patron saint of fatherhood) to pray with and for me to God.  And of course, Our Blessed Mother as I pray the Rosary every day. 

Praying to our Lord, through the intercession of a saint, is a way of also saying that we know Jesus’ response to us is pure mercy on His part.  And the good news is that Jesus deeply desires to shower His mercy when we humble ourselves before Him, especially by coming to Him through the mediation of the saints.

It’s a good practice to reflect upon the humility of the well-respected Roman centurion and to try to understand the power of his humble approach by which he sent his friends to Jesus on his behalf.  We can pick a saint or two or three in Heaven and ask them to go to our Lord on our behalf and request that our Lord grant us the same humility and faith as the centurion.  Doing so will likely lead our Lord to be “amazed” at our faith and humility also.

I just know

I don’t have a memory of the day I was told that God exists.  I’m not even sure anyone did tell me.  In my heart, I just know that He’s always been with me.  The human heart, a person’s deepest self, is where God has written his covenant (Jeremiah 31:31-34).  How else do we know, seemingly by instinct, that there is a God?  And why do we turn to our Creator in times of distress or sadness?  

It's because God has written His names (Father, Son, Holy Spirit) on our hearts since before we were born (Jeremiah 1:5).  Consider a newborn baby.  He (or she) isn’t "taught" to look for his mother's breast when he's hungry.  He just knows that’s the source of his nourishment.  Or how does she know which woman is her mother in a crowd of mothers?  By the special "scent" that is a bond between mother and child.  If you think about these things, you just know they’re true.

It’s the same with knowing that Jesus is the Son of God, and that He’s truly present in each of us.  Even atheist have to make a choice to ignore this instinctive knowledge.  When Jesus was with the Apostles and asked them, "Who do people say that I am?", they replied that some thought He was John the Baptist, others Elijah, still others thought He was one of the other prophets.  But when He asked his friends, who knew Him best, "Who do YOU say that I am?", Peter blurted out "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God!"  This was revealed to Peter by God, according to Jesus. (Luke 9, 18-24).  And it was.  But it’s also been revealed to each of us through Scripture and Tradition.  Even without Scripture and Tradition, as in my own personal experience, if one really searches their heart they know this to be true.  

Do we know Jesus as the Christ?  Do we think Jesus is human?  Divine?  A symbol?  An example?  Might I suggest we all take a moment and imagine that Jesus is asking us, “Who do you say that I am?”

My answer to the question of who Jesus is has been evolving the past few years.  Today, I would say that, primarily, I am in relationship with the Christ within, calling me to transformation and union.  I am being invited to let go of my false self and move to a place of functioning out of my True Self.  Another way to so say this is to turn my whole self toward God, the Christ within.  

Once we can name who we think Jesus is, we can then begin to consider what that means for our lives.  What difference will knowing Jesus make in our life?  Jesus suggested to Peter that it was going to get hard, the journey was going to have moments and times of great suffering.  Peter balked at this (Mark 8:27-35).  How do we balk at times of suffering in our lives?  As we travel our spiritual journey toward the Christ within, it will get hard sometimes.  Our friends and family won’t necessarily be encouraging us to embrace change.  Change itself is difficult.  The world wants us to be of the world and live out of our egos accumulating more money, more things, more friends, more status.  The Christ within calls us to simplicity, less, dependence and union with god, a life of living with and for others.  Will we balk or will we surrender?

Jesus encourages us to persevere, to surrender.  “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.  For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and that of the gospel will save it.”   He’s asking us to let go of our egotistic desires and to live out of the place of the Christ within, not out of the world.