Faith, fidelity, and commitment

 

Every so often, I find myself reflecting on some pretty unpleasant readings from the Old and New Testaments.  From the book of Judges there’s the story about how Jephthah killed his own daughter, his only child, as a “burnt offering” to God (Judges 11:29-39).  In Matthew’s Gospel is the parable of how guests invited to a prince’s wedding feast actually “laid hold of [the king’s] servants, mistreated them and killed them.”  Next, as might be expected, the king “was enraged…destroyed those murderers and burnt their city.” Finally, this harsh king rejected a guest who was wearing the wrong clothes – in fact, he told his servants to “Bind his hands and feet and cast him into the darkness outside.”  And this difficult Gospel ends, “Many are invited, but few are chosen.”  I don’t like to think that!  I didn’t like the grief, violence, judgment and punishment in these two passages; I struggled to see what all these terrible lines mean to me in my life today.

I think I found one possible answer in a refrain from Psalm 40: “Here I am, Lord, I come to do your will”.  Right after I read Jephthah’s sad story, the Psalm quietly put me back in a better frame of mind.  “Sacrifice or oblation you wished not…Burnt offerings or sin-offerings you sought not.” Instead, “To do your will, O my God, is my delight.” (Psalm 40:5-10)

So I turned my reflection towards how I tend to take God’s love for granted.  Don’t most of us tend to think that nothing more can be asked of us beyond what we’re already doing quite comfortably?  We have smug and ready excuses for not feeding the hungry, tending the sick, clothing the naked, etc. (Matthew 25) – in other words, for not truly living the Christian faith: “I do enough already,” or “I can’t be expected to be more than I am.”   

My meditation hauled me back – not to the ancient practice of human sacrifice or to an obsessive concern with proper attire, but to faith, fidelity and commitment.  Jephthah was no ordinary man but a mighty warrior, a figure to represent power and success.  The daughter was no ordinary child bouncing out the front door to greet Daddy, but rather a princess giving a ceremonial welcome, signifying, again, power and success.  Together, father and daughter represent something greater still—about not taking the Lord for granted, and about sacrifice beyond human reason, for love.  To accept her role in fulfilling her father’s vow, the daughter must have loved God, and her father, very much!  I see parallels in Jephthah’s story with the “Binding of Isaac” by Abraham (Genesis 22:1-19) and even with the sacrifice of the Son of God on the Cross (John 3:16).

Also, the man “not dressed in a wedding garment” in the Gospel parable reminds us that the Kingdom of Heaven is not to be taken for granted.  When the king noticed him, the lazy guest “was reduced to silence.”  So it’s not like he didn’t have or couldn’t get the proper clothing.  The other last-minute invitees managed to dress appropriately.  This guest complacently preferred the comfort of his old jeans and t-shirt (or the first-century equivalent) instead of sacrificing a bit of convenience to do the right thing for his particular situation.

I think this parable has (at least temporarily) shaken me out of my slothful self-satisfaction, reminding me to not take God for granted!  I pray that I love God enough to sacrifice any convenience and comfort in order to say honestly, “To do your will, O my God, is my delight.”  

Called to gratitude, not envy

 

My reflection today was on the parable of the landowner who went to the appointed place to hire people to work in his fields (Matthew 20:1-16).  He went out early in the morning and formally contracted with some workers for a day's wage.  They agreed and came to work in the man's fields.

He repeated the action of finding workers at several points along the day and finally at the "eleventh hour" he hired even more.  The only difference in his interaction with the workers in getting them to his fields was that he said nothing about wages to the later employees, even the ones who would only work for an hour.

The whole parable points to and culminates with the dramatic statement of Jesus, "the last shall be first and the first shall be last."  This pronouncement of Jesus and the content of the story is a little confusing for me; what's it all about?  It sure seems as though the story isn’t about violations of social justice—the landowner contracted with the workers for their day's wages, and they were paid that amount at the end of the day; so all seems to be on the square.  But what about those hired later and especially the "eleventh hour" workers?  They got the exact amount for their labor that the ones who bore the brunt of the day got!  This may not seem fair to us but who are we to second-guess the generous heart of the landowner?

Some people who know Scripture much better than I do say that the parable is applied to the Jews as the early workers laboring all day and the latter-day employees as Christians.  But that doesn't seem to line up well with how Jesus wants to point the story.

I think the key to understanding the story is the audience to whom the story is proclaimed in Matthew's gospel, "Jesus told his disciples this parable:"

The words ‘his disciples’ makes the whole difference, I believe.  He's saying to His close friends, the ones He called into service with Him, those who left everything to follow Him: ‘be careful; don't take things for granted; watch out that you put too much emphasis on yourselves and miss the most important part: the graciousness of God’.

In other words it's not up to the amount of work that’s done or how much "heat of the day" is endured, or even how well the work is done.  It all depends on God's call and invitation.  That's where we (disciples) need to focus ourselves, and not on grumbling against those we think don't deserve the wages for which we contracted. 

Again, in my opinion the parable isn’t about social justice or about labor relations.  It's point is God's generosity in giving freely to ones who don't deserve what they’re graciously given (not by “earning” God's love). and as always the response to such liberality is gratitude. 

That applies to all of us, the latter-day disciples laboring alongside of Jesus in His Kingdom.  We’re the "eleventh hour" people who receive the benefits of God' graciousness.  We’re the ones who are constantly being confounded by God's wondrous generosity.  We’re the ones called into gratitude for His Goodness.

With God's help, go with the strength you have

 

The Old Testament story of Gideon is my story; probably all of us can relate to this one (Judges 6:11-24).   I love the words of the angel of the Lord to Gideon while he was hard at work grinding wheat one day.  “The Lord is with you, O champion!”  I can imagine this happening to me.  My response would be similar to Gideon’s response.  “What do you mean, “Champion?”  I’m just stuck here at work that never makes a difference, except to keep me and my family fed.  There must be more to life if I’m supposed to be a champion.” 

The Lord has done wonderful things for me, that’s true, but now what?  I’m just not one of the movers and shakers in the world.  But the Lord has an answer to our doubts just as with Gideon’s doubts.  The Lord says, “Go with the strength you have [and do what needs to be done], because I am sending you.”  And we like Gideon say, “I don’t have much strength, I’m really pretty insignificant.”  And the Lord says, “I’ll be with you.”  And we say, again like Gideon, “OK, but give me a sign.”  And the Lord does.

My reflections today are about the signs that the Lord is with us.  We’ll see them if we trust in God.  What’s important here is that God is with us, not that we get stronger.  It’s about God’s strength and not ours.  We don’t get very far if we ask for strength to go it alone to do what we want to do.  We all know that.  But we’re “champions” if we go with God where God needs us to go.  When we hear what God wants us to do, miracles will happen.  We will see the signs.  We will be champions!  Accompanying our faithfulness and hopefulness will be truth and justice, springing out of the earth and down from heaven.  It’s all there if we look for it (Psalm 85:9-14).

There’s more!  We can inherit eternal life.  But we can’t do that by ourselves either.  Jesus reminds us that it’s impossible on our own, only with God (Matthew 19:23-30).  Still, I can’t help but think that trusting in God to deliver is only half of the human story.  It’s what we want God to deliver that is the problem.  Most of us want something other than what God promises to provide us.  We want earthly riches, power, and recognition of it all more than we want peace and justice and eternal life.  We really think we can enjoy wealth and power more than we can peace and justice.  Jesus understood that.

So the other half of the human story is about our desiring to follow Jesus.  But that too isn’t all up to us; Jesus reminds us that it’s impossible for our desires to be made perfect without God.  For the sake of the name of Jesus we do our best, but we must rely on God to be with us to stay on track.  So today, and every day, we can stop to pray at work in gratitude for the Lord’s presence.  Just listen for the angel saying, “The Lord is with you, O champion!”  Then we can get our priorities straight and get back to work; that is, God’s work.         

In case of fire.....

 

While I wouldn’t consider myself “rich” by any means, my wife and I are blessed to live a comfortable life.  We have funds to spend on Starbucks iced coffee when we need a little pick-me-up, money for take-out at least once a week, and when we feel the need for a home improvement repair or we want to help the kids out with their finances, we know it won’t break the bank to splurge every once in a while.

That being said, I still think it would be difficult to live without the comforts of my daily life, that wouldn’t have been afforded to me if it weren’t for my prosperity.  The gospel I reflected on today was one of those faith-testing moments where you have to look at your life and determine where your priorities are—God is asking us if He is ours (Matthew 19:16-22).

Or put another way: If there was a fire, what would you grab as you got out of the house?  

My list of items has changed over my life; it used to be a laundry list of 25 different things.  Now, it’s down to one thing: my family.  Everything else is just ‘fluff’.  I think this is Jesus’ point–at the end of days, it’s not the things we have that matter but how we treated one another.

The commandments Jesus listed out for the young man are all about relationships with the people around us, and in expanding upon them at the end, Jesus reminds us that ultimately we’re created to love and care for others.  He calls the young man to give up what gets in his way of loving and caring for his neighbors which, by the looks of it for this young man, is attachment to his possessions.

As I reflected today on this Gospel, I asked myself the following questions:

What gets in the way of my caring for and loving my neighbor?

What grace might I ask of God to let go of those attachments?

How might I give more to the relationships in my life?

At the end of the day, I realized that what I care the most about are the relationships in my life–my wife, my children, my grandchildren, and most importantly, Jesus.  In responding to the goodness of God’s deep and generous love for us, we turn to our neighbor in striving to have good, right, and life-giving relationship, relationships that ultimately bring us closer to God.

Jesus invites us daily to know Him more.  When we spend time with Him reading the word, in quiet reflection, or in daily prayer, we’re deepening our relationship with the Creator.  We’re allowing Him into our lives and letting Him fill the God-shaped hole in our hearts that only He can seal.  And when we know Him, giving up iPhones, video games, money, comforts, etc. won’t feel like a burden.  We’ll find a willing heart, eager to follow God all the days of our lives.

I need Mary! We all do!

 

“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my Savior for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant.  From this day all generations will call me blessed: the Almighty has done great things for me and holy is his Name” (Luke 1:46-49).

I have the tendency to look at my life and my accomplishments and to pat myself on the back for what a great job I’ve done!  Like many other Americans I validate my life by pointing to achievements.  This validation leads to self-affirmation and often to boastfulness and pride.

And this tendency isn’t bad as far as it goes.  But it doesn’t go far enough.  Influenced by American secularism and individualism, I often tend to view my existence as independent from God. My tendency is to ignore God’s role and to see myself as a self-actualizing individual and to put myself -- not God -- at the center of the universe.  And then I become self-inflated -- and sadly am tempted to denigrate those I deem less successful.

Influenced by an ever more dominant secular culture, I’m tempted to ignore God’s role in my life. I ignore the God who knits me together in my mother’s womb, who gives me my talents, who sustains me in existence, and who showers me with the Holy Spirit enabling me to actualize these talents (Psalm 139).

But then I look at Mary, the Mother of Jesus.  This is Mary whom God blessed above all other human beings -- whom God chose to be at the center of salvation history and who was faithful to Jesus from Bethlehem to Calvary.

This is Mary who realized that the source of her blessings was the Almighty and not herself and whose blessings made her not proud but humble and grateful.

On this Feast of the Assumption of Mary, I pray for Mary’s intercession that I may become more acutely aware of the source of all my blessings and may join her in her humility, praise and gratitude to our God: “The Almighty has done great things for me and holy is his Name.”

I need Mary!

Welcome the children

 

There’s a short gospel passage (Matthew 19:13-15) about Jesus welcoming the children.  He scolded the disciples that tried to hinder the children.  Something characteristic about children made Jesus exclaim, “The kingdom of God belongs to such as these.”   My first thought was that Jesus was highlighting the dependence that children have on their parents as the way we should go to God.  As I reflected on the passage, I began to ask myself many questions like, “What knowledge or behavior do adults miss about the kingdom of God that children seem to possess?”  It dawned on me during my analysis that I was stuck in an adult mode.  I was analyzing, critiquing and searching for the right answer.  In my adult analysis I lost the freedom and spontaneity that children possess, and Jesus was welcoming.

A child-like dependence on God is a valuable spiritual characteristic, but freedom and spontaneity are equally important to me.  My grandchildren continually teach me to relax, have fun and play. 

Do you recall when you last felt joy and delight?  In a world where we’re bombarded with life and all of its details, I think joy might escape sometimes, unheeded in our rush to finish our to-do list.  We do have to get those things done.  We have responsibilities to our families, to our jobs, to society.

For adults, the moments of pure joy can be few and far between.  And we probably take so much time trying to figure out if that moment actually was joy that we miss it.  This makes me think of my granddaughter Lily when she and I would play “Where’s Lily?”.   It was a game we made up similar to “peek-a-boo”.  I would pretend not to see her and “look” for her everywhere calling out “where’s Lily?”.  She would be standing right in front of me, waiting for me to say, “Ooh! There she is!”, and then we’d giggle together.  There were times it could go on for 30 minutes before one or the other of us would simply lose interest or focus.  But for those oh so few minutes, Lily and I were both so completely in the moment, present, full of joy and delighted to be there in one another's company.  I’ve since enjoyed the same game with both Josephine and Paloma, with just as great enthusiasm, joy, and delight.

During these times and in many others the freedom of childhood rushes over me and for a time the important things in life seem to be so clear.  After a time, I fade back into adult mode, and I become less spontaneous or free to embrace the Godliness that’s present all around me.  I’m not advocating for adults to not act responsibly or maturely, but we must also re-learn how to be free and recognize the Godliness around us.  We must allow ourselves to play, be silly and spontaneously embrace the God who is waiting with open arms.

My prayer for today is that we can all take a good length of time with a young child to find our own answers to the reason Jesus states, “The kingdom of God belongs to such as these.”

Remembering God's Blessings

 

Remember Joshua?  He was the leader of Moses’ army, the famed trumpet player at Jericho, and Moses’ successor as leader of Israel.  It was he who led his people into the promised land.  As Joshua was nearing the end of his life and preparing to pass on the torch of leadership to the judges, he called them all together, to offer last words of wisdom.  He offered a litany of the ways in which God had provided for them and their ancestors in the past.  In essence, Joshua charged his successors to remember, one by one, God’s blessings over the many years and generations (Joshua 24:1-13).

In reflection on this chapter of Joshua, I wondered how often do I take time to identify and acknowledge the ways in which God has blessed—and continues to bless—my life?  My answer is not often enough!  Oh, sure, I know I’m blessed.  But how often do I, like Joshua, do an accounting of those blessings?  How often do I take the time to list them out, feel the goodness of those blessings, and acknowledge God’s closeness in all that I do and experience? 

Despite being in retirement, I’m too busy.  My life is fraught with overwhelming busy-ness; mounds of work to be done (not really), challenges to be met (nope), deadlines hovering on the horizon (not anymore), and the list goes on and on and on (in my own mind).  I’m grateful to God; but taking time to think about those blessings? Not very often.  And, frankly, all too often, I attend to the not-so-great happenings in my life.  Like all of us, I have ample instances of those disagreements with others, disappointments, and anger at injustice that it’s all too easy to let those obscure my sight and occupy my few remaining moments.

Yet, in those all-too-few moments when I do stop to think about God’s presence and blessing in my day (most often just before going to sleep), I find a richness of love and relationship that give me a moment’s respite.  I see God in the gentle smile of my wife, the laughter of friends, the growing maturity of my grandchildren, and even the tears of strangers.  God is present and I know that to be true in the depths of my soul. 

Maybe you’re better than I am at taking stock of God’s blessing in the little moments of your day.  If so, you’re blessed in another way too.  If not, then join me in listening to the Spirit’s call to remember and make it a part of our lives, every day, all days. 

Because Jesus says so

 

Peter approached Jesus and asked him “Lord, if my brother sins against me, how often must I forgive him? As many as seven times?”

Jesus answered, “I say to you, not seven times but seventy-seven times.” (Matthew 18:21–19:1)

In other words, without limit.  Why?  Well, because Jesus says so – a pretty good reason even if we just stop there.  But Jesus goes on to spell out the reason in the parable of the man who was forgiven a great debt, but then turned around and refused to forgive his fellow servant.

We must forgive, first, because we’ve been forgiven.  Christian ethics has been well characterized as a “therefore” ethics.  God has done this; therefore we must do likewise (out of sheer gratitude if for no other reason).  Christian ethics is not based in philosophy or abstract concepts; it’s based in an action – God’s saving action.  We can never afford to lose sight of God’s action – God’s prior reaching out to us.

But there’s a second reason for His limitless forgiving.  God’s purpose is to save everyone.  As Christians we explicitly take that mission as our own, and we’re empowered to do so by our baptism.  As St. Paul says, in Baptism we have died with Christ. The new life we live is precisely His life, His spirit, living in us (Romans 6).  The person who has offended us is already forgiven by God.  How, then, can we withhold our own forgiveness?  In other words, how can we do so and call ourselves Christian?  When we forgive, we simply make God’s prior forgiveness concrete here and now.  Probably the offender didn’t expect us to be forgiving.  Perhaps we help the offender experience God’s forgiveness in our own.  Perhaps we call both of us to a change of heart.

When we find it impossible to forgive, the one thing we know will help is God’s grace.  A grace is a specific act of God’s love for us personally.  It’s specified to affect us where we need help, light, guidance, strength, courage, and even the desire to speak or act in real situations where it would be best in God’s eyes and in our own to do so.  Asking for the grace to forgive a particularly deep hurt, where doing so seems impossible, is a perfect case in point.  Nothing is impossible for God (Matthew 19:26), and God wants to be there, in our hearts, helping us when we cannot alone bring ourselves to forgive those who hurt us.

No one can expect to go through life without being hurt by others.  We wish we could.  We wish our children could.  But we’re all vulnerable to being used or abused, neglected or abandoned by others when they become greedy, ambitious or arrogant.  When that happens, we’re all called to be forgivers.  When it’s hard to forgive, we ask for the grace to do so.  As we mature in our Faith, the grace abides.   This in turn enables us to become men and women with the gift, rooted in experience, to help others who have been hurt:  to become apostles of reconciliation.   This is an enormously important mission, given the great need for reconciliation throughout our world, in any and every place the Lord may place us.

Face-to-face

"Since then no prophet has arisen in Israel like Moses, whom the Lord knew face to face." (Deuteronomy 34:10)

This line in the Old Testament got me thinking today about our modern age of social media—which is anything but social at times.  It seems to me that the ability to say things under the protection of anonymity has helped to spread hate and division faster than any other form of communication ever known to man.

The most powerful communications tool is a face-to-face talk, with eye contact.  It seems that we avoid face-to-face communications when absolute honesty is required or when the topic makes us squirm.

Imagine knowing God face-to-face.

Face-to-face with the Lord God almighty, maker of heaven and earth.  Face-to-face with the supreme being.

How might I conduct myself if I knew that every now and then I would have to stand face-to-face with someone who knows everything there is to know about me?

Face-to-face with someone who knows my every thought and deed.  Nothing concealed.  Never even a chance to pretend to be something I’m not or to hide anything that I am.

How much of that could I stand?  Why does the thought of it make me uneasy?  Because I don’t have the courage to be face-to-face with myself?

But why be afraid?

I felt a little less afraid after I read a passage in Matthew from the perspective of the brother who sins.  I put myself in his shoes (Matthew 18:15-20).

I’m not comfortable in his shoes because my experience tells me that people discern my faults, blame me, when they want to exclude me in some way or when they’re ashamed of their own behavior.

But in this passage, the person who confronts me about my sin is acting out of compassion.  How do I respond?

I get three chances—first when I’m confronted by one, second when two or three people sit me down for an honest chat and third when the church becomes involved.  What’s their motive?  It’s not punishment, they want to keep me in the family.  That’s important to repeat: They want to keep me in the family.  Excluding me is the last resort.

Again, how do I respond?  How could the life that God planted in me resist such love?

Cheerful giving

 

As children, we’re all taught to share.  It’s one of the hardest lessons for young kids to learn, especially when they really want to keep the requested item.  For instance, when my granddaughter is asked to share a certain set of toys, she will sometimes offer a totally different (and usually unacceptable) toy that she doesn’t want, so she can keep the desired ones all to herself.  “Mine!” is the cry of the child.

I have to wonder though; have we, as adults, really outgrown that impulse?  So much of the message of Jesus, and indeed of all Scripture, is about generous, big-hearted, selfless giving.  But it’s a challenge! Even as an adult, it’s easy to give or to share when I have more than enough for myself or when I don’t much care about the requested item.  What about when I have to sacrifice something I want in order to give it to someone else?  Too often, my inner toddler comes out and I suggest other alternatives or try to finagle my way into getting to keep what I want.  If I simply must give something up, I’m not the “cheerful giver” that God loves (2 Corinthians 9:6-10); I give with resignation or downright resentment. Then I’m tempted to keep track of who gave what and when, so in the future, I can call in the favor and balance the scales.

On the other hand, despite that difficulty with physical giving, on the emotional side I’ve been known to “over-give”, especially my time and talents.    I wanted to make others happy, or I wanted to be liked or I wanted to uphold my treasured image as a good person, so I sacrificed myself to such a degree that I had nothing left – no energy, no strength, no reserves.  When I got so depleted, I was not a cheerful giver nor an effective one.  It was just as unhealthy and un-Christian as the refusal to give in the first place, although it’s often harder to discern because it seems so virtuous.  It took several good friends to point this out to me, and I will be forever grateful to them.

But I think we can achieve balance on both ends of the spectrum.  We need to adopt the heart of Christ. We need to pray and allow God to transform our hearts into God’s own, to join our will to the will of God.  Jesus didn’t cling to possessions, people, or even life itself (John 12:24-26).  Yet He didn’t over-give either; He took care of Himself as the valued son of God. I’m slowly and sometimes painfully learning to give generously and cheerfully both physically and emotionally, and yet to respect the dignity and value I have as God’s beloved child by also generously and cheerfully tending to my own needs. I still find the latter more difficult, but I’m learning.

"That we may not offend..."

 

Mask mandates and vaccinations.  It seems like common sense to me.  And yet it seems that these two issues continue to dominate peoples’ lives a year and a half into the pandemic.  Why wouldn’t anyone want to err on the side of caution when it comes to respecting the health and welfare of our fellow brothers and sisters in Christ?  Even if one considered it an infringement on personal liberties (it’s not!), or (God forbid!) an inconvenience?  The worst thing about the conflict is the hate, fear, and suspicion between the two camps. 

Sometimes Jesus’ teaching revolves around practical common sense.  In my favorite “fish story” of all time, as the plots against Jesus begin to build, the temple tax collectors ask Peter whether or not Jesus paid the temple tax.  Jesus knew they weren’t as interested in whether or not He paid as in “catching” Him at something.

It’s the kind of situation we all hate to be in, filled with fear and conflict.  But if we watch Jesus, we can see that His response teaches a good lesson.  He’s calm and thoughtful and brings up the thorny issue Himself in front of the accusers who haven’t had the courage to face Him directly.

The accusation of the tax collectors isn’t fair, but Jesus doesn’t fight every injustice He sees.  Rather than rail against the people who question Him, Jesus points out that He shouldn’t have to pay – but then pays it anyway.  He says we’ll pay the tax, “that we may not offend…”  (Matthew 17:22-27)

I suspect Jesus doesn’t care if He offends these tax collectors, but He doesn’t want to get sidetracked by tax squabbles.  So He performs a small and delightful miracle—one that makes me smile every time I hear it.  Jesus tells Peter to catch the first fish that comes out of the sea and in its mouth would be a coin to cover temple tax for both Jesus and Peter.  He’s saying, “Trust in God for the things you can’t control in your life.”

I often get un-centered and self-absorbed by conflict.  Jesus wants us to stay on focus and to trust in God rather than get caught up in unimportant conflicts of life.  He wants to get back to His message of justice for the poor, loving our enemies and trusting in God.  This gospel is an invitation for us to accept the powerlessness we have in so many areas of our lives and embrace it as a way to draw closer to God. He doesn’t want us to surrender our peace to people who will draw us away from God by fretting, worrying and forgetting to surrender our lives to God, not humans who pick away at us.

How are we in relationship with God?

 

As I prayed and reflected on today’s Scripture readings, I felt resistance, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.  It took me a while to realize that my resistance was that I didn’t want to reflect on and share about the bread of life referring to Eucharist, because that would be too easy, and prevent me from entering fully into prayer.  I assumed I knew where my prayer was going to lead.  When I was finally able to let go of this presumption a lot of questions surfaced, including:

How is Jesus offering Himself to us for nourishment?

How is Jesus inviting us to be nourished?

How does God sustain us?

How does the Father draw us to Him?

How do we listen to the Father?

How are we taught by God?

In some sense, all these questions ask the same thing: How are we in relationship with God?  The other thing I noticed was that all the questions speak of God/Jesus initiating the action.  The Divine reaching out to us.

In the Old Testament reading, Elijah, in anguish, is praying for death.  Instead, God reaches out to Elijah through an angel, offers him cake and water and encourages him to eat and live and continue his journey (1 Kings 19:4-8).  I’ve experienced this several times throughout my life.  Sometimes when I’ve felt down, feeling lonely or afraid, I’ve had to stop and take a moment to look outside or take a walk and hear the wind in the trees or notice the beauty of nature, feeling the presence of the Divine “feeding” my spirit, encouraging me, reminding me I’m not alone.   God is reaching out.  We just need to take time to notice.

In the Gospel of John (John 6:41-51), Jesus is telling us “I am the bread of life.”  I will sustain you.  We do experience this with the Eucharist but today, in this reflection, I hear the invitation to notice all the other ways God sustains us.  Angels, companions, trees and water, Scripture, art and music, beauty.  God is always and everywhere reaching out to us, sustaining, nourishing, teaching and drawing us nearer.

The Divine is reaching out to us, nourishing us, companioning us, filling us with Love.  Today, I hear the invitation to pause and notice the many ways this happens.  And then, a last question occurred to me, How will we respond?  This is how our relationship with God grows.

Faith can move mountains--if it's God's Will

 

There are a lot of people who think that the Old Testament is a little scary; lots of fire and brimstone, people being wiped out, people dying horrible deaths, etc.  Then there are also a lot of people who like the “You’re OK, I'm OK, it's all OK”, that they perceive to be the New Testament.  I hope my reflection today can point out how far off base both of these views are, and why God chose to give us both the Old and the New to complement one another.

In Deuteronomy, Moses reminds us that everything is a gift from God.  That our goal in life should be to love and serve God.  We should keep God's commandments on our hearts, and we should teach them to our children every opportunity we get (Deuteronomy 6:4-13).  What wonderful truths and lessons.  And this Scripture was incredibly reaffirming to me.  I’ll bet all of us have at least one rote prayer that we say daily.  It's so automatic that sometimes we don't even remember if we've said it or not?  I have several and sometimes I'm quite critical of myself for them. “Blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda, Amen”.  It seems sometimes that family and work can be all consuming and there isn't time for God.  Maybe that's when God will use a little, rote prayer to get His foot in the door and ask you for some quality time.  Always time well spent.

Psalm 18:2-51 echoes the lesson of Deuteronomy.  "The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer".  Everything comes from God, and He is where we can take our refuge.

Then comes Matthew.  What happened to I'm OK, you're OK?  A father brings a boy to Jesus saying that His disciples couldn’t heal the child.  Jesus explodes, showing anger, frustration and exasperation.  Jesus heals the boy.  Later the disciples approach Christ, I would guess with some timidity, and ask why they couldn't heal the boy.  "Because you have so little faith."  (Matthew 17:14-20)

I can’t help but think back to over 40 years ago and a scene from “Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back” where Luke is studying under the Jedi master Yoda.  Yoda strives to help Luke master the force so he can use it to combat evil.  After a period of time practicing the use of the force – moving objects, anticipating what another will do, analyzing thoughts and motives of others – Yoda challenges Luke to move a spaceship.  Luke is unable to do so, and then Yoda demonstrates he can do it easily.  In awe Luke exclaims “I don’t believe it.”  And Yoda replies “That is why you fail.”  The disciples failed in their quest due to their lack of faith – they didn’t believe they could do what was asked of them.  Jesus reminds them of the power of faith with a visual they could understand – faith the size of a mustard seed can move a mountain.

Are we called to move mountains?  Probably not.  But are we called to believe in the face of difficulties?  Yes, precisely in those times and those difficulties that might seem like mountains.  It is easy to believe when things are going well.  It is easy to be faith-filled when we aren’t challenged.  But when things happen that shake our faith, we have to dig deeper and find a core from which we can draw strength.  For each of us these situations are different – one person’s molehill is another’s mountain.  But for all of us we can take strength from knowing (believing, having faith) that a loving God is there to be with us when times are difficult. 

Peaks and valleys

No matter how ordinary and even dull our faith life may feel on a day-to-day basis, I think that for everyone there have been some peak moments that stand out as summits in our faith experience. One such experience for me was the time when I attended a holy hour and Benediction service with my mom.  A holy hour and Benediction service begins with the exposition of the Blessed Sacrament while a hymn is sung (usually ‘Tantum Ergo’).  Then a couple of readings from the Bible are presented.  On the day I remember so well, Father Joe began reading the Gospel:

"On the evening of that first day of the week, when the doors were locked, where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in their midst and said to them, “Peace be with you.”

When he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side.  The disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.

Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you.  As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”

And when he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit.”  (John 20: 19-31)

As if on cue, I became very aware of a breeze coming through the door and sweeping over me.  I cried as I took a deep breath to “catch” all the graces I could.  It was exhilarating!  I wanted the feeling to last forever!  Because I’m a rational man, I realize it probably wasn’t the Holy Spirit (I won’t rule it out, though!).  It was a semi-breezy day and the doors at either end of the church were opened to keep the church cool, but the breeze put me “in the moment” with the Apostles that “evening of the first day of the week”.  So although I could explain my experience through rational thought, I still believe that the Holy Spirit was present at that moment.  I’ve had many, many other similar experiences of God’s presence in my life, and I often thank God for these “eternal glimpses” of His Love.

The gospel narrative of a similar experience in the discipleship journey of three of the apostles contains some lessons for us.  It’s Mark’s account of the Transfiguration of Jesus (Mark 9:2-10).

One lesson is the recognition of a very human inclination to seize an encouraging experience and attempt to make it permanent, to “build three tents” there.  When we feel spiritually consoled or are given a keen awareness of God's presence with us, we may very much desire that the moment would never end now that we “have arrived”.  That seems to be how Peter felt then.  It’s interesting that the “voice from the cloud” actually interrupts Peter “while he was still speaking”, as if telling him to keep quiet and stop making no sense.  Peaks and valleys are both part of the beauty of life's landscape.  A peak stretched out without boundaries would be as flat and potentially as monotonous as a low lying plain, no matter how high its elevation. It’s the existence of valleys that renders peaks so majestic and awe-inspiring.

Another lesson flows precisely from the very transient and indeed exceptional nature of that experience of transfiguration.  The apostles and disciples encountered and followed a Jesus that didn’t appear to them as ‘transfigured’ at all, and even for the three privileged ones of the gospel reading the experience was a clear exception.  In our own faith experience of Jesus' presence in our lives we often encounter Jesus rather as ‘disfigured’ in the flawed human beings we interact with on a daily basis and even in our own selves.  ‘Disfigured’ in a Church riddled with scandals, in the poor who don’t meet our standards of appearance or manners, in the real limitations of the very people we love and want to love, in the flawed implementation of who we ourselves desire to be.  It’s here that our tents are pitched, not on some exceptional experience of transfiguration.  However recognizing the ‘disfigured’ Lord is not quite spontaneous for us, it’s a gift — a gift God desires to give, but also a gift we need to desire to receive. 

The answer, as always, is Jesus

 

In this journey we call life, it’s good to often ask ourselves “How well do we follow instructions?”  If we’re trying to assemble a bicycle, a toy, some Ikea furniture, or even bake a cake, do we use the instructions or do we go by our own intuition?  I suspect the truth is we're just like the children of Israel who didn’t always follow instructions, which usually produced bad results.

The children of Israel were allowed to wander in the wilderness for 40 years because of their disobedience and unwillingness to follow God’s instructions.  After God had selected Moses and Aaron to lead the children of Israel out of Egypt, they found themselves in the wilderness, with no water, and no vegetation.  The Israelites were complaining against Moses and Aaron for their present condition, so much like people do today.  We attempt to blame everyone else but ourselves.  We never seem to be satisfied. 

God gave clear instructions to Moses: “Take your staff and assemble the community, you and your brother Aaron, and in their presence order the rock to yield its waters.  From the rock you shall bring forth water for the congregation and their livestock to drink.”  But Moses instead hit the rock twice which caused God to not allow Moses or Aaron to lead the Israelites into the Promise land (Numbers 20:1-13).

This is why it’s so important for each one of us to know Jesus for ourselves.  Each one of us is accountable to God for our own deeds.  Jesus asked his disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?”  After much deliberation on the part of the Apostles, Jesus re-phrased the question by asking, “But who do you say that I am?”  (Matthew 16:13-23).  The whole idea of knowing Jesus becomes personal.  No matter how tough life becomes, Jesus is the answer.

Great faith

 

Although Scripture is the Word of God, we must still approach it with intelligence and that sort of suspicion which will help us to seek out the hidden treasure which it contains. 

Take for example the tale of a Canaanite woman—an outsider—who continually shouted at Jesus to take pity on her, because her daughter was “tormented by a devil.”  (Matthew 15:21-28).  Jesus ignored her, but those who were with Him were annoyed at her shouting and asked Jesus to give her what she wanted.  He answered them with a sort of “mission statement”; “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the House of Israel.”  The woman had approached and overheard.  She knelt at His feet and called Him “Lord” and asked again for help.

Jesus remained focused on who He had come to save and to serve: the Jews.  “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the house dogs,” he said.

The woman was unfazed by this act of what today we call political incorrectness.  She was steadfast, and met him point for point: “Yes, but even the house dogs eat the scraps that fall from their master’s table.”  In one fell swoop she had acknowledged the Jews’ disdain for outsiders such as herself (the “dogs”), and honored Jesus by her alluding to Him as the master of the house.  And she made it clear that she wanted Him to include her—or more particularly, her daughter—as a beneficiary of His giftedness.

I wonder if He was motivated by her acknowledgement of His special giftedness as “master of the table”.  Or maybe He was touched by her quick wit, her almost lawyerly extemporaneous speaking skills.  Was he moved by her persistence, her fierce motherly love for her daughter?

As I ponder this gospel, I imagine Jesus’ inner monologue to be something like: “If I’m not here for this woman, I’m here for nobody.  Look at her faith!  Look at her trust!  Look at her concern for her daughter!  Look at her dogged determination to try every last avenue of healing—even to risk humiliation—for her own.   This is the kind of love I experience from Abba Father.  I will give her what she asks.”

Matthew’s gospel has Jesus telling her, “O woman, great is your faith.  Be it done for you as you desire.” 

The encounter seems to be clear and have several levels of meaning:  the priority of Jewish claims on God's beneficence, the value of persistence in prayer, etc.  And we can see that this latter point is supported by what Jesus has to say about the man seeking bread in the middle of the night (Luke 11:5-13) or about the widow and the unjust judge (Luke 18:1-18).

One tool of critical importance in our understanding of a passage like this is our personal experience, because when we confront our own experience of asking God for something and the seeming silence our request is met with we might and often do wonder whether God is listening or even whether the value of persistence in prayer is a hoax.  Which leads us, or at least should lead us, to a personal conversation with God about the problem.

Some possible points to consider in this situation: maybe we’re asking for something that’s not good for us or for others and maybe instead God is taking seriously our petition in the "Our Father" that asks that God's will, not ours, be done.  Or maybe God is willing but the people we’re asking Him to influence are actively turning a deaf ear to His voice.  Or the changes we’re asking for can’t happen in a moment: ocean liners are not as maneuverable as bicycles, and we human beings have a lot of history and momentum to overcome.

Or maybe I'm saying that Scripture is not simply God's word to us but a place where, in the Spirit, we have a privileged place to exchange words with God, a place where we cooperate in His teaching our hearts and His helping us to grow in understanding, wisdom, patience, gratitude, and love.

A lesson "by the Numbers"

 

Years ago I had the great and well-intentioned idea to read the Bible from “cover to cover”.   I quickly learned, by the end of Leviticus, that the Word of God is best read and understood when guided by the Holy Spirit and the “schedule” of daily readings prescribed by the Church.  I’ve heard many very pious and intelligent people say that they also came to the same conclusion.  Reading the “books” in consecutive order can grow quite tedious and—God forgive me for saying this—boring.  Especially the Book of Numbers.  But even Numbers has a few episodes that contain practical lessons that the Lord wanted to teach Moses’ followers and probably us, too.  For instance the lesson I'm learning today, as I reflect on Chapter 12, verses 1-13.

God had put Moses in charge of the operations of the Hebrew people when they were held captive in Egypt.  Face to face God spoke to him.  “Now, Moses himself was by far the meekest man on the earth.”  So in spite of his one-to-one conversations with God, Moses depended upon Aaron and Miriam to do much of the speaking and PR work for him.  As often happens when people are the subordinates in an enterprise, but still have lots of the responsibility and perform much of the behind-the-scenes labor, petty jealousy of the leader often grows because he seems to get all of the credit.

Then the jealousy gives rise to detraction, tearing down the reputation of the leader.  That’s what Miriam and Aaron were doing.  They found fault with Moses on the pretext of the marriage he had contracted with a Cushite woman.

When God saw what was going on, He demanded to meet with the three people involved and to straighten out the situation.  The Lord became angry with the detraction on the part of Miriam and struck her with the disease of leprosy.  The lesson the Lord taught was how repugnant He found people who belittled others out of jealousy.

Moses didn’t retaliate against Miriam for her detraction, but instead pleaded with God to return her to physical wellness instead.  I think that through this episode in Numbers, God is asking us to react like Moses by accepting others in spite of their jealousy and belittling comments.  He wants us to genuinely forgive and even pray for our detractors.  While praying our nightly “Examine of Conscience”, if we become aware of others who might have ignored or ridiculed us during the day, it might be profitable to question ourselves.  How willing are we to respond as Moses did?

"Be thankful for what you have"

 

Whenever my brothers and I would begin grousing that we didn’t like what was being served for dinner, or that there wasn’t enough of a particularly good dinner, we would be met with the response, “Be thankful for what you have!"  I was reminded of this saying while reading my Scriptures today.

The Israelites were roaming around the desert working their way to the Promised Land.  They were learning to be dependent on God.  First they grumbled about water, then they grumbled about food.  They weren't hungry, but they weren't satisfied.  They had full stomachs, but they craved greater variety and "better" food than what the manna provided (Numbers 11:4-15).

I don’t believe the Israelites were intentionally ungrateful, unsatisfied, or unwilling to accept the gift they received for what it was and not what they wanted it to be.  They were just human, reacting on a sensory level instead of on a spiritual level.  They were overly concerned with the immediate and didn’t have enough concern for the bigger picture.  They were so blinded by the desire to have better food that they forgot the price they paid for the food was the loss of their freedom!

I know I have an attitude like the Israelites many times.  I suspect many of us have had this attitude of not being thankful for what we have.  I suppose most of us forget at times that all we have - our homes, and jobs, and families, and wealth, and health, and our very existence - are gifts from God.   And so we complain, or desire, or crave, other "better" things.  And yet, we’ve received from God all we need.  That’s one lesson from the wandering in the desert - God will provide all we need.  We need to accept that truth - we need to be thankful for what we have.  This is a priceless gift, and we should rejoice in its simple power and be conscious of our gratitude. 

Yet so many times we’re ungrateful.  So today, my prayer is that I can be genuinely grateful for what I have, and not grumble about what I don't have, that I can give all back to God and take only what I need - the Creator's love and grace.