Freedom from want

Freedom from want is a theme for the Scriptures I reflected on today.  The Lord in Isaiah will provide us a rich feast (Isaiah 25:6-10); in the Psalms the Lord is a shepherd that shields us from want (Psalm 23:1- 6); Jesus both heals the hurting and feeds the hungry (Matthew 15:29-37).   And although the theme is expressed in terms of easing hunger, it also resonates with satisfying our spiritual needs – Isaiah says the Lord will destroy death forever, and the psalm indicates we’ll live in the house of the Lord all the days of our lives.  This promise of freedom from want is for a time yet to come, since we know that all of us are still in some need in our world, and that the gifts of freedom from physical and spiritual want fall unevenly, with many of us more fortunate in receiving material well-being far beyond our needs.

How ought we, the fortunate, respond to this largesse from the Lord?  We could simply take and enjoy our good fortune.  But another response is to model the actions of the Lord by giving to others. 

How do we model the Lord’s actions?  The Prayer of St. Francis is a great guide:

Where there’s hatred, we sow love.

Where there’s injury, we pardon.

Where there’s doubt, we deepen faith.

Where there’s despair, we offer hope.

Where there’s darkness, we offer light.

Where there’s sadness, we generate joy.

Where there’s hunger, we feed.

Where there’s sickness, we treat.

Where there is material want, we clothe and shelter.

We can easily be insensitive to the many opportunities to make these responses, paralyzed by the sheer magnitude of the want that exists in our world today.  A world free of Covid, starving people, poverty of spirit, racism, and other wants abound in our local and international communities.  But I think it is important to remember the words of Dr. Jonas Salk when he said, “The greatest reward for doing is the opportunity to do more.”  Positive responses result in more positive responses.  Saying yes makes it easier to say yes to the next request.  Taking satisfaction in doing rather than receiving keeps us focused on the other, not self.

As we deepen our awareness of our personal freedom from want that comes from God, our gratitude will grow.  The deeper our gratitude, the greater will be our joy of being one with the Lord.  And from this joy will spring a deep and abiding love for the God who frees us from all our wants.

And so my prayer today is for the strength to say yes more times than no and to be sensitive to where I can share God’s great gift of freedom from want with my sisters and brothers who are in need. 

Faith Comes from What is Heard

On this, the Feast of St. Andrew, the words of St. Paul focus our attention on the simple truth that, whether for apostles in the first century of the Church’s life, or today, “faith comes from what is heard” (Romans 10:9-18).  Although for many of us, the moment of our baptism may be regarded as the beginning of our journey of faith, the growth in that faith comes from the experience of people speaking about the One whom they know and love.

St. Paul’s Letter to the Romans surrounds that truth with the wonderful words of the prophet Isaiah: “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!” (Isaiah 52:7).  These words move us to celebrate the journeys and labor of Andrew and the other apostles.  Yet, the words are also an invitation to cherish those who have spoken to us about “the One whom they know and love.”

Today has been a great day for me as I did some serious prayer and reflection on the concrete individuals who have been “apostles” for me, those sent by the Lord to give witness by word and deed to the Lord Himself. 

I’m thinking of my mom, of course.  Without her lifelong example of steadfast faith, I’m not sure my own faith would be as strong as it is today.  The same goes for my grandparents, who never failed to be open about the Good News of Jesus Christ in everything they said and did.  I can’t forget my granddaughter Lily, with whom I’ve had many conversations of faith and who has strengthened my trust and confidence by her simple and uncomplicated faith.  Another big influence in my faith life has been the many priests and deacons I’ve encountered, who through their homilies have given me hope in the risen Christ. 

It was a good reflection, full of both joy and sorrow.  I recommend it for everybody!  In addition to marveling at the individuals who have most immediately brought us to deeper faith, we might pause to consider the long line of others who passed on the faith to them.  Perhaps we might even dare to imagine who in this long line of our individual faith lives was the first to hear the name “Jesus” and to put faith in Him.

At every turn, back through decades and even centuries, the reality is the same:  faith comes from what is heard.  We should give thanks for all that we’ve received and ask for the grace to be instruments to awaken faith in others in our own day.

Be a candle in the darkness

 

“Walking in the Light of the Lord” (Isaiah 2:1-5) demands reflection, admitting weakness, turning ourselves around…with the grace of God.

It did my heart good to read the words of Isaiah today. The world doesn’t seem like a peaceful place very often.  Thanks(?) to the internet, we’ve all seen places where the lives of children break our hearts. We’ve met young people whose lives are scarred by war and violence.  My spirit is sometimes devastated at the cruelty of people toward other human beings.  But the world doesn’t have to be that way.

We all need to try to bring peace to the world, and we can start in our own little corners.  We can try to walk in the paths of the God of Jacob.  We can all try to turn whatever our own weapon is into plowshares.  Instead of cutting people with words and deeds, let’s sow love and understanding.  Instead of using a spear to deflate someone else, let’s turn that spear into a pruning hook and help someone grow and develop.  Let me turn that sharp retort, a raised voice into something reasonable.  Let me take a deep breath and practice patience when the grandchildren start throwing tantrums, or when I’m interrupted for the umpteenth time.  Let me realize that sarcasm and laughing at others can hurt or injure someone.  When my day becomes crowded and busy, let me make time for someone who just needs a kind word or a friendly smile.

War and violence are not just in war zones between soldiers.  Violence can erupt anywhere, fueled by resentment and hate.  Turning swords into plowshares is something we can all do, where we are.  As we begin the season of Advent, let each of us be a candle in the darkness and try to live out that familiar song: “Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me.”

Advent--Hope and reassurance

 

It’s Advent!  For too many years, my first response this realization was to make a list of what needed to be done in the weeks ahead to prepare for Christmas.  It’s easy to feel anxiety about “getting it all done.”  Or we can pause and reflect on entering into Advent this year as a season with meaning.  I know it will be a better season if I can re-adjust my expectations in a way that will bring me to Christmas Day with a closer relationship with God and a deeper connection to the nativity.

I begin my Scripture reflections on this First Sunday of Advent with a hope and a reassurance: “The days are coming when I will fulfill the promise I made….” (Jeremiah 33:14-16)

This passage from Jeremiah was originally meant to encourage a people who were devastated by war, whose country was overrun and whose leaders had been taken away by the enemy.  The Israelites were unsure of who they were and what they would become as a people.  Jeremiah compares them to a forest that has been cut down, leaving no safety, no resources.

And to those people, God promises that out of that barren land, a tiny shoot, a small sign of life will appear on a lifeless stump: “I will raise up for David a just shoot; he shall do what is right and just in the land.”  God goes on to promise them not only that Judah would one day be safe, but that Jerusalem would be secure.  To those living back then, the promise would have seemed outsized and almost impossible, yet offering hope.

God’s promise of safety, security and love is for us, too.  Advent is the perfect time to ponder the life we have today.  How can I live that life?  Am I wandering in my own desert aimless and confused?  Or do I really believe in my heart that God is here in my everyday life with me, helping me to be safe and secure?

In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus, in His deep familiarity with the “end time” readings of the Old Testament, offers a vision of a world out of order.  The sun and moon are no longer in alignment and the roar of the sea and waves terrify people (Luke 21:25-36).  These readings don’t frighten me, but they do grab my attention, as if God is begging me not to be overwhelmed with what is out of order, but to pay attention to the promise, here and now.

Jesus talks about the anxieties of daily life and cautions us to “not become drowsy” from them.  I know I’ve experienced anxiety in life over family, health and work.  We can fret about everything from a world-wide pandemic to systemic racism to our “To Do” list.  But Jesus offers us hope, consolation and His endless love.  He tells us to pay attention at all times and to pray for strength.  What He really wants is for us to know how very deeply each one of us is loved and cherished by Him.  I find this very consoling.

Relying on that love releases my fierce grip on control of my life.  We can stop each morning, set aside our “To Do” list and pray.  We can ask God to help us feel how deeply we are loved and to help us let go of things that really don’t matter.

I am moved to turn to the words from Saint Paul’s First Letter to the Thessalonians, “May the Lord make you increase and abound in love for one another … so as to strengthen your hearts…”  (1 Thessalonians 3:12-4:2).  It’s Advent!

Is everybody happy?

Everyone wants to be happy in life.  We can’t not work to achieve this innate desire.  No one intentionally chooses to be unhappy.  However, many people regularly choose things in life that do lead to unhappiness and discontentment.  But they do so with the false conviction that this or that action will satisfy.  And though there are many things that provide temporary or superficial “happiness,” the truth is that there’s only one thing and one thing alone that provides the happiness and fulfillment we desire. That one thing is the presence of God alive within our souls.

Imagine yourself constantly being next to Jesus. Everything you did, He would be there.  Everywhere you went, He would be beside you.  Wherever you drove, He would be in the front seat.  Would you do things differently?  Would you, possibly, not go to some of the places that bring you pleasure if you knew Jesus was there?  Well, guess what – He certainly is!  The good we do on earth, we do for the Father in Heaven (Matthew 7:11).  If we know He’s always present, we certainly would do things differently! 

I believe that God wants us to enjoy this life and all the gifts that He’s given us with it.  We should make the most of those gifts and enjoy them, but make sure we use them for good, especially for the good of others!  When our day comes to stand before the Son of Man, I want all of us to be there! 

Every day should be Thanksgiving

During our Thanksgiving dinner today, one of topics I overheard being discussed was “What are your plans for the rest of the weekend?”  My niece said that she was probably going to take advantage of a few “Black Friday” sales.  I thought it would be a good topic for my reflection today.

Many of us don’t waste much time moving from Thanksgiving to Black Friday.  Stores open their doors late on Thursday before the leftovers are put away, the tables are cleared, the dishes are washed and dried, and guests are out the door.  It sometimes seems as though we need to rush past the moment of gratitude for what we’ve been given to focus on accumulating more.

For me, Thanksgiving should be a comforting celebration.  It doesn’t have the complications of Christmas.  It focuses on gathering around a table of plenty—almost Eucharistic, in a way.  We gather in twos, threes, tens or twenties knowing we’re imperfect, yet we gather, nonetheless.  At our best we reflect on what little we’ve done to deserve such graciousness, yet here it is before us.  Blessed indeed.

First, though, we need to see what is before us. Gratitude wells up in us only when we recognize the gift.  It might be the birth of child or grandchild.  It might be that finally we can come together safely and vaccinated to share space and a meal.  It might be one of us has returned to health or maybe we acknowledge and celebrate a life well lived.

Thanksgiving should be a daily celebration. The extravagant feast is not repeated each day, but a moment to notice what is given to us each day can be repeated every day.  But like today’s Black Friday, as long as we’re focused on what we don’t have, we’ll find it hard to relish all that we already have—which is simply this: “You are my beloved. In you, I am well pleased.” (Mark 1:11, Matthew 3:17, Luke 3:22)

Thanksgiving

 

Though Thanksgiving Day is not specifically a Church holy day, gratitude is certainly central to our Christian faith, as is illustrated by the Gospel in which ten lepers were healed by Jesus (Luke 17:11-19).  And their communal reaction is something of which to take note.  Nine of them were healed and went about their business, not returning to the source of their healing to thank Him.  But one did.  This one leper, who was suddenly no longer a leper, returned to Jesus, glorified Him, fell at His feet and thanked Him.  This one leper was a foreigner, a Samaritan, but he manifested a faith that we should all strive to imitate.  The faith of this Samaritan was evident by the fact that he knew he needed to not only be grateful for the grace of healing but that he also needed to express it.

As we celebrate Thanksgiving Day, we’re reminded that of all the things for which we must be grateful, nothing is more important than our gratitude to God for the immeasurable graces He has given us.  But as the story goes, it’s clearly very easy to overlook the importance of our response to God’s blessings.  Only ten percent of the lepers responded with such an expression.  Therefore, it might be helpful today to examine the many reasons we should be thankful and should work to express that gratitude to God.

First, God created us out of love.  This is no small gift.  It’s the first gift He has given us and one we often take for granted. God didn’t need to create us.  He didn’t need to create you.  But He did. And the gift of life, the gift of an immortal soul, is something that we must never overlook and always rejoice in.

Second, God entered our fallen state through the Incarnation within the womb of the Blessed Virgin Mary.  Doing so elevated our fallen human nature to a height never known before.  Humanity and divinity were united in the Person of the Incarnate Son of God and Son of Man, and we must be grateful for this unmerited and awe-inspiring gift.

Third, we know the rest of the story.  God, in the Person of the Incarnate Son, suffered, died and rose again.  In so doing, He made it possible for every sin of ours to be wiped away.  As we die with Him, we’re invited to rise with Him.  And as we rise with Him, we’re invited to share in His glory in Heaven.

Lastly, in each and every life, there are countless graces given to us every day.  But as spoiled children, we often overlook these blessings and take them for granted.  Examples here don’t suffice.  It’s essential that if you want to have a grateful heart that you learn to see these blessings in your own life. 

Too often we focus on our struggles and pain. But the blessings are abundant, and the more we turn to our Lord in total surrender, the more the blessings flow.

God's Providence

 

Earlier today, as I was researching early Thanksgiving celebrations in the U.S., I found an interesting story that led me to reflect on the protective presence of God in our scary moments.  The story I read said that it was a custom in one of the tribes of Native Americans that a young man had to go through a testing to prove his manhood.  In the dead of night, he was led by his father into the depths of the forest blindfolded.  The young man was tied still blindfolded to a tree.  He was left alone all night vulnerable to animal attacks.  The boy thought he was all alone and was expected to show bravery.  Unknown to him his father was close by to protect him if danger approached.

God’s Providence means that God’s loving care surrounds us at every moment of our lives.  We might sometimes feel that “God hides His face” in our troubles.  With the Psalms we pray, “Do not hide your face from me, do not turn your servant away in anger; you have been my helper. Do not reject me or forsake me, God my Savior” (Psalm 27:9).  Praise to His mercy He doesn’t abandon us in our troubles!

We must trust in this caring presence of God.  At times, He only seems to abandon us, to hide His face. He is close and only seems to be away.  He’s only encouraging us to trust in His deep love for us!  In our deepest anxious moments, He gives us the biggest opportunity to make our greatest act of loving confidence.  Like the young man tied and blind in the story we grow into a beautiful reckless bravery of trust.   Love can’t really grow without challenging scary problems.  “By your endurance you will gain your lives.” (Luke 21:12-19)

The moment of truth

Sadly, there are many who don't believe that God exists.  Or if He does, He has no right to judge us, nor do we, to praise Him.  Instead, they think that all the wonders we enjoy are our own creation.  We’re the great and awesome ones.  And what is good and right is relative to our individual leanings and has nothing to do with the sovereignty of the Lord.

Someday, whether we believe it or not, there will be a moment of truth for every one of us and we'll see without a doubt who is truly great - truly awesome.

The Prophet Daniel was a young man when he was captured in Jerusalem, and taken to Babylon, by the invading soldiers of King Nebuchadnazzar.  He soon became known at the King’s court for his wisdom and ability to interpret dreams.  One of the King’s dreams featured a statue made of many precious and non-precious components.  Daniel was not intimidated by the fact that he was a captive when he confronted a man so powerful that he was known as the King of Kings, conqueror of Judah, and destroyer of the first temple.  Daniel told the King the meaning of each element of the dream statue.  The most unwelcome part of Daniel’s message for the King was the portion that meant that every earthly kingdom, no matter what its strength, composition, or worth, easily can be ended by the hand of God.  The great power and majesty of God, like the stone in the King’s dream, will fill the earth (Daniel 2:31-45).

Jesus spoke in similar terms to the people of the impending destruction of the second temple in Jerusalem; “there will not be left a stone upon another stone…”.   Those who listened to Jesus knew well that the temple could be destroyed, and that they could be taken, as their ancestors had, as captives.  Jesus couldn’t have chosen a more dire prediction to capture their attention.  The most important phrase that Jesus used in that warning was, “many will come in my name, saying ‘I am he’ and ‘the time has come.”  He implied by this that He, in fact, is the chosen one.  The time had come.  God would, and did, replace the temporal powers, and continues to fill the world with His power and majesty (Luke 21:5-11).

We all have witnessed, if not in person, in the news media, the end of nations, the pandemic, wars, famine, and earthquakes.  We’re reminded daily of our own weakness and impermanence.  Should we be terrified?  

As for me, I'll bet on the Lord, the "great and awesome God," who doesn’t "deal with us according to our sins," but whose mercy is forever (Daniel 9:4).  When I do get scared “to death”, I try to remember Revelation 2:10: “Remain faithful until death, and I will give you the crown of life.”

From my livelihood

 

In a few more days we’ll be celebrating Thanksgiving.  In a blend of traditions pre- and post-Covid, family and friends will be gathering for meals and fellowship either in person, virtually, or a combination of both.  In our secular culture, the Thanksgiving holiday is linked with the gift giving focus of the Christmas season.  Advertisements, coupons and catalogs have been arriving in legions.  The focus on gift giving can shift from joyous generosity to anxiety about what to give, which persons should receive gifts, confusion about what gifts would be appropriate and what resources should be spent.

In Luke’s gospel, Jesus commends the offering made by the poor widow.  He says: “I tell you truly, this poor widow put in more than all the rest; for those others have all made offerings from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has offered her whole livelihood.”  (Luke 21:1-4)

This profound and challenging teaching from Jesus can help us explore how we want to express both our gratitude during this Thanksgiving week and our love during the Christmas season.  I pray for the grace to understand how can I give not from “my surplus but from my livelihood”?

Jesus honoring the widow from offering her whole livelihood can feel overwhelming.  As I pray today with His words, I hear Jesus asking me to center my life to Him.  He’s not asking me to give away all of my worldly possession, but He does ask me to question how I use my privilege responsibly.  Jesus is extending a call to action, not a reprimand.  Feeling guilt or shame for what we have can be sinful, as the focus on self prevents us from being in service to others.

This Thanksgiving as I enjoy the usual Thanksgiving feast with my family, I pray to hear what else my loved ones need.  “From my livelihood” can I give my family members my time and attention in the form that meets their desire?  Can I let go of my expectations of how they engage in family time?  How can I be available to someone who is very challenging to me?  As I develop my Christmas gift-giving list, can my eyes be opened to who needs to be on the list in a special way?  Can I aspire to be like the widow and share the resources that are my livelihood: my time, autonomy, power, knowledge, health, compassion, creativity, and spirituality?  Digging deep to truly give can feel scary but I rely on my faith in God.  What a wonderful focus for giving thanks to Him!

To tell the truth

 

In John’s Gospel, Jesus responds to Pilate who was questioning Him about whether or not He was the King of the Jews (John 18:33-37).  Jesus is clear that He is a King, but that His Kingdom does not belong to this world.  So where is His Kingdom?

We can look at Jesus’ statement from two points of view.  First of all, if Jesus would have claimed that He were an earthly king, one with civil authority, then Pilate would have judged Him to be guilty of trying to overthrow the Roman authority.  This would be unlawful and would be punishable by death.  In that case, Jesus could have been found legally guilty of violating civil law.

But Jesus was purely innocent.  He was morally perfect in every way, and that included His obedience to all legitimate civil law.  But Jesus is a King.  He is The King of all Kings!  Therefore, so as to exercise His Kingship, He declared that His Kingdom is not of this world.  In other words, it isn’t a Kingdom that was in competition with the Roman authorities or any other civil authority.  To that truth, Pilate didn’t know how to respond.

I read somewhere that, according to studies, the average American lies 11 times a week.  Of course, this assumes the people they polled were telling the truth during the survey.

I think many of us lie because telling the truth can put us in awkward, uncomfortable situations, the type we as humans are wired to try and avoid.  And then there’s the group of us who lie to look good.  What’s wrong with telling a few white lies?  In the study I read, researchers claimed “social lying” is often about appearances, looking good not only to our friends, but also to ourselves. By being untruthful, we’re all too often willing to hide our failures and shortcomings or nod in agreement with opinions to which we don’t subscribe.

So, why did Jesus respond to Pilate’s inquiry the way He did and emphasize the importance of honesty?  If we think about it, being truthful goes hand in hand with Jesus’ message of love; first, to love your God above all others, and then, to love your neighbor (Luke 10:27-28).  Truth is the very cornerstone upon which love is built, and without truth, no relationship, here on earth or in heaven, can survive.

God knows all and sees all, so our untruthfulness is only for our own presumed benefit. 

So today, in our conversations with God, let’s focus on being truthful in assessing how we’re trying to live our faith-filled lives.  Let’s not exaggerate our good deeds, omit our failings, or worry about being liked by others, but rather, learn to “testify to the truth” and in so doing, be more open and accepting of God’s unconditional love.

Over time, the added benefit of being truthful with God in all our daily conversations and prayers may be our increased comfort to “testify to the truth” with those we love and with whom we share our lives; to openly share with them our candid thoughts and feelings; and to welcome theirs as well.  By practicing truthfulness and honesty in our prayer life and then with our loved ones, we may gain the confidence to rewrite our own personal mission statement and vow to “testify to the truth” to all we meet.

It's why they were sad, you see?

 

We can miss the power of the familiar gospel when Jesus was confronted by the Sadducees, if we’re not completely honest with ourselves.  As usual, the religious leaders were trying to discredit Jesus and His mission.  This time, it wasn’t the usual suspects, the Pharisees.  These were the Sadducees “who deny there is a resurrection.”  Their ploy was to show that the very notion of a resurrection would lead to some very odd results.  The wife whom 7 brothers married, trying to produce offspring for their deceased brother, would find herself in the afterlife with 8 husbands (Luke 20:27-40).

The challenge for me, if I’m honest enough, is that I too often live my daily life not thinking about the afterlife much.  The temptation is to live for today.  The battles, struggles, dreams and rewards can keep me pretty occupied.

I’ve been to lots of funerals.  In the American culture, there is often a wake service the night before a funeral during which family members give testimonials about the one who died.  The language of many of those talks sometimes reveals little evidence in a belief in an afterlife.  At times, a poem is read or lyrics from a song are used on the program, speaking about the consolation we have that our loved one “remains with us in our memories,” or “they survive in the good deeds they have done.”  Only rarely, is there mention of the person being “in a better place.”

Jesus tells us the afterlife will be like a wedding banquet – a great celebration (Matthew 22:1-14).  He said He goes ahead of us to prepare a place for us (John 14:1-6).  Saint Paul encourages us to live in this world with our hearts set on the world to come (Philippians 3:20-21).

I’m not suggesting we don’t live in this life or enjoy it.  I’m just reminded by this gospel not to forget that we await new life, everlasting life.  The victory over sin and death has been won.  This world and its anxieties, struggles, and deaths isn’t all there is.  There’s a merciful God who is also just.  That’s such good news for those who will never have justice in this world.  It can be bad news for those who live this life in total disregard for the poor and marginalized (Jesus’ parable about the rich man and the poor man, Lazarus [Luke 16:19-31]).  For us who might be dealing with the limits of this life – in real poverty, with diminishment, with sickness, with the critical or chronic illness of a loved one, even grieving death itself – we have real good news to look forward to.  We can imagine it however we like.  It’s going to be so much better than we can imagine.  That thought is quite a grace to lift my spirits today.

Cleaning house

 

As we look forward to celebrating Thanksgiving and Christmas, many of us will have to do lots of cleaning to prepare our houses as places of celebration.  It’s not that our guests wouldn’t come or wouldn’t enjoy themselves if the house was dirty, but we clean as a mark of respect and welcome.

There were two house-cleaning stories in the Scriptures I read today.  In the time of the Maccabees, after the temple had been defiled by pagan idol worship, it needed rebuilding, cleaning, and re-consecration to make it a fit place for worship of the one God (1 Maccabees 4:36-59).  It’s not that God can’t be worshipped anywhere, even in the foulest setting, but they expressed their praise and gratitude to God by making beautiful the place of prayer, of intimate union with God.

In the time of Jesus, after the temple had become a place of commerce, it needed the cleansing of Jesus' presence to make it a fit place for him to teach the good news (Luke 19:45-48).  It’s not that the good news can’t be proclaimed in the midst of commerce, but that the competition and calculation we need to conduct commerce are not the attitudes of a good hearer of the Word.  In commerce we calculate what is the least we can give up and still get the most of what we want.  In hearing the Word we’re invited to surrender our whole selves to receive more than we could possibly ask or imagine.

We’re invited to be vigilant in keeping our temples—i.e., our whole selves—prepared for the presence of our God (Romans 12).  God indeed can and does find us in our messiness, but that doesn’t mean we should keep things as messy as possible.  Just as blood flows better when the arteries aren’t clogged and oxygen when the lungs aren’t full of smoke, so our relationship with God flows better when we remove as many obstacles as we can.  Keeping our temples ‘clean,’ like cleaning our houses, is a way of saying to God “you are always here.”

Peace is elusive

 

A couple of years back, I read a story on the internet that dealt with the police finding a young boy who had been kidnapped by some drug dealers who were in the country illegally.  As with all “news” articles these days, there were plenty of comments by readers to the story.  One of the comments—certainly not the only one to worry me, and certainly not the vilest, brought home to me just how insidious the Evil One is.  The pure evil and ignorance that it embodied created a dread in me that I felt to the bottom of my soul, primarily because the author’s stated objective was to achieve “peace” through violence.  It read:

“I don't care how much I'll end up paying for tomatoes or turnips, every illegal alien needs to be rounded up, branded (for ID purposes) and booted back across the Rio Grande.  Those that return should be shot on sight.  Their bodies can be fed to livestock in the area.  Anyone that hires an illegal alien should be hung from the nearest strong tree.  Yes, these measures may seem a little harsh to some, but they are necessary lest we lose our country and our peaceful way of life.” 

As Jesus drew near Jerusalem, he saw the city and wept over it, saying, “If this day you only knew what makes for peace– but now it is hidden from your eyes.” (Luke 19:41-44)

Peace is elusive. It’s especially elusive when peoples and movements believe deep in their hearts that peace can only be attained by the taking of human life.

Hatred begets war and war begets hatred.  Some, like the author of the comment above, believe the illusion that peace is attained by the taking of human life and destroying homes, communities, cities and countries. This illusion is easily believed.  For many, it’s based upon the law of common sense: if you eliminate the person who is trying to kill you, then you believe that you can live in peace.  When we begin to act upon these beliefs, then the temptation becomes to strike before “they” strike, whoever “they” are.  The enemy is no longer considered human beings, no longer our brothers and sisters, no longer God’s children.  They can be disposed of with any destructive measures at our disposal.

Rather than peace, this way of life is lived in fear.

There are plenty of stories in Scripture that are filled with images of violence, death and destruction.  The Book of Maccabees tells the story of the occupation of Israel by the rulers of the Hellenistic Empire established by Alexander the Great.  After he had conquered Israel by the sword, he then began to conquer them by abolishing their identity: destroying the Temple and what it stood for, forcing public acceptance to a pagan power and pagan gods and stripping them of their cultural heritage.  When push came to shove, some of the Hebrews became “zealous for the law and for those who stand by the covenant.”  No matter how powerful the opposition was, how big their armies and how numerous their political leaders, the Hebrew people’s desire to live the covenant faithfully, was not dealt a deathblow (1 Maccabees 2:15-29).

The reaction of Mattathias to seeing the covenant violated is very similar to the reaction of Moses to seeing his Hebrew kinsmen being beaten—striking out in anger with the sword.  Afterwards, both fled to the mountains, to escape the wrath of the oppressors (Exodus 2:11-22).

Fidelity to God and God’s love will always conquer the destructive ways of human beings. That’s the contradiction, the contradiction of the Cross.  At the middle of the Prayer of Consecration at Mass we proclaim the “Mystery of Faith”: “Dying you destroyed our death, rising, you restored our life, Come Lord Jesus!”

Love is stronger than hate.  Love will always bring new life.  Faith is the lens by which we understand our relationship with our God, and the values of peace and forgiveness, preached by God’s Son, Jesus.  Hope is the virtue that allows us to walk into a deadly situation, confident that God is there before us.

Jesus wept when He saw the people of His day believing that they had discovered the formula for staying alive, built upon the abandonment of their relationship with God.  Little do we realize that this formula of an eye for two eyes, a death for five deaths is not a winning formula.  Every nation that has made this formula their foundation stone has witnessed the destruction of their temples, not leaving one stone upon another.

The New Testament invites us to cast our lot with Jesus, the Prince of Peace!  May the Peace of Our Lord Jesus Christ be always in our hearts!

Who's in charge here?

 

Jesus tells a parable about “a nobleman who went off to a distant country to obtain the kingship for himself and then to return.”  Yet a number of the people who would be his subjects resisted his authority and power and contested his right to be their leader; at the end of Jesus’ parable, the man who had indeed become king simply and highhandedly had those people killed (Luke 19:11-28). 

In 2^nd Maccabees, the story is told of a mother and her seven sons who chose to remain faithful to the eternal king, God Himself, at great cost to themselves, not only the loss of their lives but also the great pain which they suffered (2 Maccabees 7:20-31).

Both of these stories lead me to reflect on the question of where we place our allegiance and loyalty.  Who or what is ultimately in charge of our lives?  Who or what do we depend on for our life and direction?

We have two possible choices: we can completely turn our backs on God and reject who He is and what He asks of us.  We can deny that Jesus has any power over us, that He has a word to say about who we are, and we can even deny that He exists.  We can live in total independence of Him and live more or less comfortably on the level of things and the satisfaction that they give us.  This self-centered isolation is what we call "sin," and Jesus will let us live that way, eternally, if that’s what we want.

Or we can be enthusiastic, can truly embrace our King and devote ourselves to Him, letting Him change our lives.

Now we might also try to get by in a passive manner, just going with the crowd and getting along, but Jesus says of people such as this that "I shall spit you out because you are neither hot nor cold" (Revelation 3:16).

Am I really satisfied with a life limited to consumer goods, the media, and corporal satisfactions?  Is "passive" and "getting by" enough for me?  Or do I want to consciously choose my life and my loves and be responsible for who I am?  Will I take my life into my own hands—and put it firmly into the hands of our King, our God's hands?

Deep down joy!

 

When I was a kid, there were times when I didn’t want to do something new, or eat a new food, or go someplace new.  My father’s method for getting me to change my view was to say, “You don’t know what you’re missing!”  I could give the same advice to some of my Protestant friends and relatives after my reflection today on the 2^nd Book of Maccabees.

There are several stories in the Catholic bible that were omitted from the Protestant version during the Reformation.  One of them is Eleazar’s speech on the way to his death; it rivals accounts of Christian martyrs for its beauty and depth of faith.  Even in the face of torture and certain death, he professed his desire to remain faithful to God’s commands.  In the course of his bold profession of faith, he revealed the mystery at work in the heart of every martyr: “I am not only enduring terrible pain in my body . . . but also suffering it with joy in my soul because of my devotion to him.” (2 Maccabees 6:18-31)

Pain in the body, but joy in the soul.  It’s the mystery of the human heart that both can be felt at the same time.  Two different, even contrasting felt experiences at one and the same time.  Without a doubt, however, it’s the joy that is deeper, it’s the joy that “governs” and takes the lead.  Without that joy, there would be no martyrdom, no witness to something or, rather, to Someone who makes heroic suffering possible.

Though we may marvel at such witness, we tend to distance ourselves from the experience.  “Those people” who die for their faith seem so far removed from our poor faith.  Yet, in simple ways, we can see this “down deep joy” at work.  Many of us know (or have known) people suffering with serious illness who through relationship with the Lord maintain a genuine joy; here is a “pain in the body, but joy in the soul.”  Others may lack a physical pain, but in the circumstances of their lives they know mental anguish and stress; again, we’ve seen the joy of faith that breaks through the pain.

The story of Eleazar in Maccabees invites us to “go deep,” in search of the One who loves us in the pain and promises to each of us, even with that pain, a “deep down joy.”

Lord, Please let me see!

 

One of the Bible passages I chose to reflect on today portrays a moment in Jewish history that’s far from being characterized as clear and faithful to the religious traditions and beliefs of the Jewish community.  In fact, as we see in the First Book of the Maccabees, with poor leadership and heretical thinking many of the people were abandoning their faith in favor of the Gentiles living among them.

They covered over the mark of their circumcision and abandoned the holy covenant; they allied themselves with the Gentiles and sold themselves to wrongdoing. Then the king wrote to his whole kingdom that all should be one people, each abandoning his particular customs.  All the Gentiles conformed to the command of the king, and many children of Israel were in favor of his religion; they sacrificed to idols and profaned the sabbath (1 Maccabees 1:10-63).

At my first read-through of this passage, I was amazed at how such a faithful people who suffered so greatly for their faith could be swayed so easily as to capitulate to the demands of a king who was clearly not representing God and God’s sacred covenant with His chosen people.  But then, as I reflected a bit further, I can see that in our own lifetime and in our own country, we’re witnesses of many people who are compromising the truth of their faith for fame, control, and popularity.  We’re all only too susceptible to the influences and seduction of our modern world.  We need only think about the reality of “culture wars” in America today to get an idea of how easy it is to be misled, to go astray, all accomplished through the power of misrepresenting the truth and appealing to personal ambitions and even the anger that binds so many together in our struggling society today.

It begs the question: How can we change all of this misdirection and division, all this animosity and separation that is tearing us apart?  It seems to me we have only to go to the Gospel of Luke and meditate long and hard on the words of the blind man who was so privileged to meet Jesus.  With him we have to all cry out humbly and sincerely, “Lord, please, let me see!” (Luke 18:35-43)

Only the Lord can give us the sight and the vision that will lead us to the truth that can make America great once again!  Only the Lord can guide us to that truth that will set us free (John 8:31-47).

Placing our lives in His hands

For more years than I care to think about, a big part of my job was driving—in all types of weather, on all types of roads, and at different times of the day and night.  I can count on one hand the number of times the task was daunting or even scary.  Those times were usually because of the terrain, or the actions of other drivers on dangerous roads.  Night driving never scared me—that experience was new to me last night.

It was a simple task.  Marilyn and I ordered take-out at a restaurant less than a mile from our house, and I went to pick it up.  Because of the recent time change, it was pitch black by six o’clock.  I pulled up to the corner stop sign and turned my head to check for oncoming traffic as I always do.  All I could see was a sea of headlights coming my way.  It both confused and scared me.  I don’t know why.  I start to pray the Rosary.  After a few minutes, I finally got my courage up to continue on.  The strange thing is that I still felt lost.  I’ve made the same trip to the same restaurant maybe thousands of times over the last 45 years that we’ve lived here, yet I was ‘lost’.  Somehow, I got to the restaurant and back home safely, and I told Marilyn that I don’t think it would be good idea for me to drive at night anymore. I realized I wasn’t just scared; I was terrified with a real foreboding of impending danger.  And I thanked God for my safe return.

Then, to prepare for this reflection today, I read the part of Mark's gospel where Jesus was consoling His disciples about the trouble to come for them (Mark 13:24-32).  Of course, this was really important for Mark's disciples because of the troubles they were facing.  And too, it’s really important for us, as we face the troubles of our time.

When Jesus said that no one knows when the end of time would be, He sure was right.  For us today, while we might be deeply concerned about the growing critical condition of our planet, the real issue of our concern is about the end of our lives.  Who among us hasn't had a relative or friend die recently?  I'm most affected by it when the death involves someone who is younger than me - something that happens more and more frequently.

Every other trouble we face is some kind of “mini-death”, which is difficult to face.  The common effect of these experiences is that they can shake us.  They can disturb our confidence and upset our sense of security.  My experience of last night is a good example.

What Jesus wants to do for us today is what He did for His first disciples.  He wants us to not let our hearts be troubled (John 14:1).  Jesus knows He’ll be with us in the midst of everything.  He wants us to have confidence that we’re never alone.  And he wants us to trust that He has won the victory over sin and death - over every sin, over every death.

The way we can let our faith be deepened is to express our gratitude to our Lord many times each day. We can thank Him for being with us - in whatever situation in which we might find ourselves.  And the more we place our trust in the promise of eternal life, the more fearless we can become.  To be without fear is so empowering. It’s so liberating.  It can allow us to face any challenge - even death itself.  Death is just a scarecrow.  It shouldn’t be frightening for us at all.  Therefore, we can be bold.  We can be courageous.  We can face great difficulties, knowing that we’ll fall into the hands of a loving Savior.  This lack of fear, this freedom, makes selfless love so much easier.  I don't have to "calculate" what this or that act of love will "cost" me.  In fact, Jesus has assured us that the secret to happiness is that we will really find ourselves when we lose ourselves in love.

We can practice this faith - really exercise it and strengthen it, perhaps like a muscle we haven't used much - by simply practicing surrender.  Not being so cautious becomes less scary and helps us to be more confident in loving.  We can say, "Lord, I know that nothing can separate me from your care for me.  Help me love this person with your own type of love, thinking less of myself, and more for the other person.  Let me be bold and free."

Let’s be confident before the trials and tribulations of our day, placing our lives in His hands. 

Knock, Knock, Knockin' on Heaven's door

Jesus wants His disciples (us) to be in continual dialogue with His Father, just as He was.  And Jesus exhorts His disciples to intensify this dialogue during times of stress, just as He did.  The dialogue is, of course, prayer.

One of the parables Jesus chose to illustrate His point of praying always, especially in need, was the parable of the corrupt judge (Luke 18:1-8).  The judge ultimately granted the widow's petition not because the petition was just but because he didn’t want to be disturbed: "While it is true that I neither fear God nor respect any human being, because this widow keeps bothering me I shall deliver a just decision for her lest she finally come and strike me."

The point of the parable is clear; just as the widow continually presented her petition to the judge so must we continually present our needs to God—and the Lord will eventually respond!

Another of Jesus’ parables earlier in the same Gospel involves two friends.  One friend in the middle of the night comes to borrow three loaves of bread.  After persistent knocking, his friend finally gets out of bed and takes care of the friend's need—not because of friendship but because of the friend's persistence—and so he can finally get some sleep (Luke 11:5-13)!

Jesus adds a comforting reflection to this parable; "For whoever asks, receives; whoever seeks, finds; whoever knocks, is admitted."  But then unexpectedly He concludes the parable with a comparison between us and God as givers.  If we humans, sinful though we are, know how to give our children good things, "how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him."  The best gift God can give is often not what we explicitly seek but God's own self, the Holy Spirit!

Often we misunderstand the purpose of seeking God's help in prayer.  We see prayer primarily as a means of controlling God for material advantages for ourselves or others; we don’t see prayer as a way of acknowledging the most fundamental relationship of our life, our relationship as creature to our Creator-Father.  But through persistent prayer we have the occasion to become more aware that as creatures we’re not self-sufficient but are dependent beings, like children to loving parents.  And through persistent prayer we slowly come to realize that our Father-Creator does respond to every prayer.  The response is often the best gift God can give—God’s own presence through the Holy Spirit.  With this presence we have the guidance and strength to handle life's stress and problems.