Fulfilling the right order

 

The feast of the baptism of our Lord brings the Christmas season that we've been celebrating to a conclusion. In the Scriptures assigned to today’s feast, we're reminded of the extraordinary truth that God, the God who is transcended above and beyond all of creation, this God who is the source of all being, has become one like us, fully human, in every way except sin. [Isaiah 42:1-7, Psalms 104:1-30, Acts 10:34-38, Luke 3:15-22]

Why would Jesus be baptized?  After all, John was preaching a baptism of repentance, a baptism for the forgiveness of sin.  In fact, if you look in Matthew's Gospel at the account of the baptism, John himself seems confused.  Jesus arrived from Galilee and came to John at the Jordan to be baptized by him, but John tried to prevent Him.  He said, "How is it that you come to me? I should be baptized by you." [Matthew 3:13-17]

Jesus tells John, "Let it be like that for now so that we may fulfill the right order."  He doesn't fully answer John, but He gives a hint because Jesus, though He is Son of God, wants to follow what He calls the right order.  He wants to be fully identified with us, with humans, with those who are sinners, those who are marginalized, oppressed, pushed aside.  In that crowd that came to follow John and be baptized, there were people of every class, every order, every nationality.

There were Gentiles, there were Jews, there were rich, there were poor, there were soldiers, there were peacekeepers -- everyone -- and Jesus comes to be one with them, and therefore, with all of us.  He is fully human, the Son of God but also the son of Mary.  It's a mystery that is beyond our comprehension. We accept it in faith, that this God is one like us in every way, so He's our brother.  He's our friend.  He's part of our human family.  He's part of our human history.

That's the mystery of Christmas.  But then also Jesus came -- and this is what we learned from the second reading in Acts today -- not for a few, not for the chosen people only. He came for all.  Jesus came to enter into the human family, to bring fullness of life to the whole human family, to everyone. That's why Peter, who at first thought he should preach only to the Jews, the chosen people, thought that Jesus had come for them alone.

Peter, now directed by God, as Luke describes in the passage from the Acts, had been directed by God to go to the house of Cornelius.  Cornelius was ready to hear about Jesus.  Cornelius is a Roman, a Gentile, a non-Jew, and Peter was amazed that God has asked him to do this, but he went.  God showed him the way, and Cornelius and his whole house, everyone is baptized, and the Holy Spirit is poured forth upon them as Luke tells us in this Acts of the Apostles, where he says, "Peter was still speaking when the Holy Spirit came upon all who listened to the word. The believers of Jewish origin who had come with Peter were amazed."

God gives and pours the Holy Spirit on foreigners also.  This is the second thing about Christmas that is important for us to recognize.  Jesus came for all, not for a few.  He came to enter into the human family, to be one with us in every way, and to bring the whole human family into the fullness of God's life. Finally, Jesus came in order to transform the world into the Reign of God. That's what we learn if we listen carefully to the first reading today from that beautiful song of the servant that Isaiah proclaims.

He says, "Here is my servant whom I uphold, my chosen one in whom I delight." Then he goes on to describe the work of this servant. "I put my spirit upon him. He will bring justice to the nations."  He will bring about the Reign of God where everyone has a chance for a full human life, but he does this in a very special way.  He does not cry out loud in the streets.  That would be a call to arms.  The servant of God doesn't do that.  Instead, as Isaiah says, "He does not break the bruised reed. He does not quench the wavering flame."

This is a servant who is nurturing, loving and gentle.  In the baptism of Jesus, as recorded in Luke's Gospel, God says, "Here is my chosen one, my beloved, in whom I am well pleased."  That's the first line of the Servant Song.  Jesus would have known that song by heart.  He knew the scriptures, so He would understand. This is His work, to transform the world, to make it the Reign of God where justice, peace and fullness of life come for all, are available to everyone.

Often a parent or both parents present their child to be baptized with fear and trembling. They are uncomfortable and unfamiliar with the church, a marriage irregularity or no marriage is usual, there is a fear of the unknown – what do we need to do now that we are here?  Will we encounter anger or be yelled at?  It’s so sad that such a beautiful moment is lost.  Or maybe and hopefully it’s a beginning, a life-giving moment, not only for the child baptized, but for parents and godparents and the community. We are commissioned to renew our lives and faith in the mystery of Gods’ grace.  To us is the child’s baptismal candle entrusted so it will be kept burning brightly and this child can go forth in life as a child of light, alive with everlasting life.

Our whole universe will be transformed into the Reign of God.  That's the reason why Jesus came.  We, who are the disciples of Jesus, we now remind ourselves of this full meaning of Christmas.  We first of all give thanks that God has become one of us.  Jesus is our brother, our friend, to be with us in every way whenever we’re in need in any way.  Jesus has come to bring the word of God, the love of God, God's message, to all people everywhere.

We rejoice in that and give thanks for that.  Also, we understand that Jesus comes with a mission, and if we are His followers, His disciples, we accept that mission as our own.  Now it's our task to work with Jesus, to enter into His work to transform our world, to bring justice, peace, love, consolation and joy wherever we can, in whatever part of our life where we can share this love of Jesus.  

Lord, I thank You for Your humble act of baptism by which You opened the Heavens to all who are sinners. May I open my heart to the unfathomable grace of my own baptism each and every day and more fully live with You as a child of the Father, filled with the Holy Spirit.  Jesus, I trust in You.

The most appropriate gift

 

I think everyone has at one time or another, had a song stuck in their head almost to the distraction of everything else in their daily life.  The exercise can be annoying to the point of frustration!  I’ve had that experience every day for the last two weeks since Christmas Mass.  The song I couldn’t get out of head until I started writing this reflection today was the “Gloria”. 

Historically, the Gloria is known as the “Angelic Hymn” because it contains the words sung from the Heavens by the angels on the night of Christ’s birth.  Luke 2:13 reads: “And suddenly there was a multitude of the heavenly host with the angel, praising God and saying: Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

The Gloria is a beautifully ancient prayer that is meant to point our hearts towards a spirit of awe.  It reminds us, gathered in the pews of the church, that we are called to praise and glorify the maker of our hearts and souls.

The irony of my experience was made manifest today, two weeks after the birth of Jesus, when the Church celebrates the Epiphany, and the visit of the three kings to honor Him.  I imagined what the Magi felt when they walked into the stable where Jesus was born.  When “they prostrated themselves and did him homage,” two things they didn’t do for Herod, by the way (Matthew 2:11).  Despite the humble surrounding and humble parents, they recognized the King and presented their most appropriate gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  “Our response to the Father’s offer of salvation must be that of the Magi: To proclaim Christ’s Kingship, to adore his Godhead, and to acknowledge his mortality” (Saint Odilo of Cluny).  Despite the humble surrounding and humble parents, they recognized the king and presented their most appropriate gifts.

When I read the Gospel for today, I realized the reason I’ve been singing the Gloria so much!  It has been my own appropriate ‘gift’ to the baby Jesus.  We sing the Gloria because it is a song of absolute joy and praise to God – what better way to start and end each day than to glorify Him!

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to people of good will.

We praise You, we bless You, we adore You, we glorify You.  We give you thanks for Your great glory, Lord God, heavenly King, O God, almighty Father.

Lord Jesus Christ, Only Begotten Son, Lord God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father, You take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us; You take away the sins of the world, receive our prayer; You are seated at the right hand of the Father, have mercy on us.

For You alone are the Holy One, You alone are the Lord, You alone are the Most High, Jesus Christ, with the Holy Spirit, in the glory of God the Father. Amen.

A command of love

“His mother said to the servers, 'Do whatever he tells you.'”  [John 2:5]

It’s a command of love, spoken by our Blessed Mother to the servants at the wedding feast in Cana.  And though her words were initially spoken to those servants so as to bring forth the first miracle and sign of Jesus’ divinity, we can be certain that our Blessed Mother also speaks them to each one of us.

Mary has appeared as apparitions under many titles to many diverse peoples in different periods of history.  The more popular devotions are her appearances in Lourdes (France), Fatima (Portugal), Guadalupe (Mexico), and Knock (Ireland).  She suffered a sword piercing her heart as she watched her son's Passion and Death, and she is constantly alert to even our smallest sufferings.  Our Blessed Mother comes to us when we need her most, with a message and guidance specific to the problems and suffering at hand.  Her message is always one that leads us to her Son.

“Do whatever he tells you.”  What a beautiful command of love!  When we hear these words spoken to us, we must hear them as our Blessed Mother’s perfect and ongoing guidance.  So often in life we do what we want to do.  We’re drawn here or there by our passions and disordered desires.  We struggle with being selfish and often make poor choices for our lives.  This is the simple reality of sin that we struggle with every day.  But if we can heed the Blessed Mother’s words, hearing them as words spoken from her heart to ours, then we will have a new direction in life.

Doing the will of God first requires that we listen to the voice of God.  We must listen to our Lord speak to us.  Our minds are often flooded with many thoughts, and we’re easily influenced by many things.  Not only do our disordered passions, feelings and emotions confuse us at times, but there are so many varied and confusing voices within our world itself.  We’re influenced by those we encounter every day for good or ill, by the mass media, by the things we read or watch, and even by the evil one himself as he tempts us day in and day out.

If we can daily strive to eliminate the many misleading voices within our lives and tune in to the simple, clear and profound voice of God, then we’ve taken a good first step.  But from there, we need to “do” that which God asks of us.  Hearing God speak can be difficult but doing what we hear from God can be even more difficult.  It’s been said that the road to hell is paved with good intentions.  Good intentions are not enough.  Doing God’s will with all our might is the answer.

“Do whatever he tells you.”

Dearest Mother, please speak these words to me every day. As you do, please pray for me that I may listen to all that your Son asks of me and obey His voice with my whole heart. Thank you for your perfect “Yes” and your obedience to God in all things. May I learn to imitate you every day more fully.  Mother Mary, pray for us.  Jesus, I trust in You.

It's not just a list of unpronounceable names...it's a plan

 

“When Jesus began his ministry he was about thirty years of age. He was the son, as was thought, of Joseph, the son of Heli, the son of Melea…”  [Luke 3:32–24]

Both Luke’s and Matthew’s Gospels share the genealogy of Jesus according to Saint Luke.  Matthew’s version might be more familiar since it comes at the very beginning of his Gospel.  Though the two genealogies differ significantly for various reasons, they both have the goal of tracing Jesus’ lineage.  Luke inserts the genealogy of Jesus in Chapter Three of his Gospel, after Jesus is baptized and just before His public ministry. He presents the genealogy in ascending order, starting with Jesus and ending with Adam, identifying seventy-seven generations.  Matthew presents the genealogy in descending order, beginning with Abraham and concluding with Jesus, identifying forty-one generations.

The Farnsworth family held a reunion in the eighties (I think it must have been ’82 or ’83, because Sarah was very young—my memory is that she was still an infant) and my sister Florence had printed out and distributed a paper with our genealogy going all the way back to Adam.  I give a lot of credit to the Mormon sensibilities regarding genealogy, but not a lot of credibility.  There were several kings and Old Testament prophets in the lineage she presented to us.  There’s a lot of folklore and ego involved in the searches made by the Mormon Church…I’m just sayin’.   It’s just a list.  We aren’t meant to read any meaning into it.  In fact, for me, I get more chuckles out of the Farnsworth list than any spiritual meanings.

But the two genealogies in the Gospels have been commented on by much more scholarly folk over the centuries, adding to their authenticity.  Saint Augustine, in commenting upon Luke’s genealogy, points out that Luke identifies seventy-seven generations because Jesus states that we must forgive seventy-seven times [Matthew 18:21–22].  Furthermore, since Jesus had just entered the waters of baptism, Augustine sees this as a way of saying that the Sacrament of Baptism offers all people of all times the unlimited gift of the forgiveness of sins.

Perhaps one of the most important reflections we can take from either of Jesus’ genealogies is the fact that He came to give us the gift of new life as the new Adam.  His gift of baptism is a way of starting over with fallen humanity.  From the time of our creation, we sinned.  Adam and Eve sinned.  And all generations to follow have sinned.  Thus, in Christ, through Baptism, we are able to begin again, to be born again, and to be transformed from the natural fallen order to the supernatural order of grace.

Over the next week or so, we will celebrate the Epiphany and the Feast of the Baptism of our Lord.  After that, we enter into the beginning of Ordinary Time when we ponder the public ministry of Jesus.  As we do so, we must regularly remind ourselves of the reason Jesus came.  He did not come simply to inspire us or to teach us His wisdom.  Rather, He came to save fallen humanity in accord with the perfect plan of the Father.  The Father’s plan began at the beginning of time when humanity fell from grace.  From there, the Father prepared the world for the coming of His divine Son through generation after generation of prophets, priests and kings.  Slowly, He revealed His plan of salvation until it came to fruition and perfection in the Person of His Beloved Son.

Jesus, my Savior, I do thank You for the unfathomable gift You have given me. You took on our fallen human nature and transformed it by this unity of Your divinity and humanity. You died for my sins and the sins of all who turn to You, and You opened the doors to Heaven. May I always grow more deeply in gratitude for all You have done for us. Jesus, I trust in You.

Putting aside preconceptions and fears

 

But Nathanael said to him, “Can anything good come from Nazareth?”  [John 1:46]

I remember being extremely proud of a project I completed for work years ago that I was sure everyone was going to appreciate.  The immediate response to the project from those it was intended for was quite underwhelming.  Because of the lack of enthusiasm my project was met with, the air was let out of my sails, so to speak.  Then, a few weeks later, I started getting positive feedback from some of the employees for whom my project was targeted.  Our sales and profits grew in part because some of the more open-minded team members gave my ideas a chance.  That, in turn, gave me strength to keep coming up with more fresh ideas!

Have you ever gotten really excited about something, so excited that you couldn’t wait to share it with your friends or family?  You might even set up a special time to meet with them just to tell them about it.  Maybe it’s a book you’ve read, or a TV series that you fell in love with.  But, when you do share it with them, they respond in an indifferent manner.  Maybe they even dismiss it as being of no value at all, “I don’t read historical books,” or “Science Fiction has never interested me.” The feeling of letdown can be disappointing, even devastating.

Or perhaps you have been the dismissive one when someone shared something with you. I wonder sometimes if that is how God feels when he sees me turn away from His plan. Not that any of us know God’s plan in any detail, but with a well-formed conscious, you can usually tell when you’re slipping. God offers us a world where we can find love, by loving others. Where we can find compassion by being compassionate. Where we can find peace by sharing His peace. And yet we turn away to build up our own ego.

This brings me to my opening quote, taken from John’s account of the calling of the first disciples.  Nathaniel was dismissive of Jesus at first, but Philip gently prodded him, “Come and see.”  And, to his credit, Nathanael did not let his preconceived notions get in his way of following his friend’s request.  He followed Philip and met Jesus and he himself was amazed at what he found.

My prayer for myself and you today is that we will always be willing to put aside our preconceived notions of how the world should be, or the way that it is, and listen to God’s invitation us to help Him build His kingdom here on earth.

Come, and you will see.

 

“They said to him, “Rabbi” (which translated means Teacher), “where are you staying?”  He said to them, “Come, and you will see.”  So they went and saw where he was staying, and they stayed with him that day.”  [John 1:38–39]

Jesus’ invitation was unique: “Come, and you will see.”  With that invitation, these two disciples (Andrew and John) went and remained with Jesus that day.  But that’s not all that happened.  It’s clear that by spending the day with Jesus, these two disciples came to faith in Who Jesus was.  Later in the passage, Andrew goes to his brother Peter to tell him, “We have found the Messiah.”  What was it about their day with Jesus that convinced them of Who He was?

Though the details of their stay with Jesus are not included in the Gospel, it seems clear that simply being in Jesus’ presence is all that these disciples needed.  Consider, again, Jesus’ twofold invitation: “Come…” followed by “and you will see.”

When our Lord speaks to each of us, His invitation is quite similar.  First, He will invite us to come with Him.  We are to come to the place where Jesus is staying.  Where is that?  For us, it’s not necessarily a physical place; rather, it is first and foremost a place of prayer.  We must hear Jesus invite us to come to Him through the interior journey of personal prayer.  It is there, within the depths of our soul, that we will rest with our Lord.  He invites us to simply be there in His divine presence.

When we come to Him and rest with Him in His presence, another thing will happen: “and you will see.” We will see Him, come to know Him, be enlightened by Him and come to faith in Him.  At first, this happens by His spoken Word.  Ultimately, this takes place through an interior revelation that we can only receive in prayer.

Hearing God Speak

 

“John testified further, saying, “I saw the Spirit come down like a dove from the sky and remain upon him. I did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water told me, ‘On whomever you see the Spirit come down and remain, he is the one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit.’  Now I have seen and testified that he is the Son of God.” [John 1:32–34]

It’s interesting to me that in the Gospel of John, Saint John the Baptist never baptized Jesus, as is depicted in the Gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke.  Instead, in the Gospel of John, John the Baptist simply witnessed the descent of the Holy Spirit from a distance, and then spoke the quoted line above. The next day, the Baptist pointed to Jesus as the “Lamb of God,” and two of his own disciples left the Baptist to follow Jesus.

As I reflect on this passage in John’s Gospel, I think it’s clear that the Baptist was given a unique spiritual knowledge by the Father that Jesus was the “Lamb of God.”  In this Gospel, the revelation of Who Jesus was did not take place in a way that everyone present heard and saw.   Rather, John’s Gospel focuses upon the interior realization that John the Baptist received from the One Who sent him.  And the One Who sent him was the Father in Heaven.

One spiritual truth worth pondering from the account of the Gospel of John I read today is that the conviction and certainty given to the Baptist about Jesus’ identity was so certain that he knew Who Jesus was beyond any shadow of a doubt.  This personal revelation given to the Baptist changed his life.  From that moment on, all he did was point people to Jesus.

In Exodus Chapter 33:19-23 there’s a wonderful passage that I think has a similar message.  Moses asks to see God’s glory, but God says He will pass by and Moses is to see only God’s back.  There are several interpretations of this passage, but I like to think of it as we know God by what He has done – hence all creation speaks to us of Him, and all living beings echo that love song of God.  So the God of infinite love and mercy is there for all to see, and we shall see Him as He is.

May we all find God in all things and all events, and know that there is Love, there is Mercy.

Greatness is achieved through humility

 

Do you want to be great?  Deep down we all do.  This desire goes hand in hand with our innate desire for happiness.  We want our lives to have meaning and purpose, and we want to make a difference. The question is “How?”  How do you do this?  How do you achieve true greatness?

From a worldly perspective, greatness can often become synonymous with success, riches, power, admiration from others, etc.  But from a divine perspective, greatness is achieved by humbly giving God the greatest glory we can with our lives.

Giving God all the glory has a double effect upon our lives.  First, doing so allows us to live in accord with the truth of life.  The truth is that God and God alone deserves all our praise and glory.  All good things come from God and God alone.  Second, humbly giving God all the glory and pointing to the fact that we’re unworthy of Him has the reciprocal effect of God reaching down and elevating us to share in His life and His glory.

Never shy away from humbling yourself before the greatness and glory of God.  Doing so will not demean you or hamper your greatness.  Rather, only in the deepest humility before the glory of God is God able to draw you into the greatness of His very life and mission.

It's simple---or is it?

 

There’s a little story of a bishop who, when officiating at a Confirmation, asked the young people to explain the Trinity.  The class clown stood up and mumbled something quietly.  The bishop remarked, “I didn’t understand that.”  The kid spoke up louder, “You’re not supposed to, it’s a mystery.”  While the bishop and the rest of the congregation in attendance chuckled, the fact is that the Church has wrestled with all manner of ways to understand a “Three-Person” God.  It's a mystery that takes more faith than words to explain.  For most of my life, and I’ll bet for most people, “It’s a mystery” was enough.  That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to understand the Holy Trinity on a deeper level because it is, as the Catechism states, “the central mystery of Christian faith and life.  It is the mystery of God in himself.”

We’ll never be able to grasp the reality of the Trinity – one God, three persons of Father, Son and Holy Spirit – until we experience the fullness of God’s love in our eternal life.  This hasn’t stopped us, though, from trying to get our heads around this idea of the Trinity.  Church history is filled with attempts to tie down its meaning, all of them coming up short and many of them earning heresy status.

If we’ve failed to tie down the mystery of the Trinity through theological concepts, we moved to analogy and art.  Just a few examples include the equilateral triangle; three intersecting circles; circle within a triangle; St. Patrick’s shamrock; and the famous icon by Andrei Rublev depicting three identical persons around one altar. Again, each comes up short.

But this shouldn’t surprise us.  Imagine trying to perfectly represent love.  Imagine being asked to define in words or a picture a relationship that grips us at the very core of our life.  The love of a parent for a child, the bond of husband and wife, or the friendship with the one who knows us best are beyond words, beyond art, beyond poetry, beautiful as they might be.  They always come up short.

Father, Son and Holy Spirit is the most real and profound relationship that exists.  The gospels tell the story of the Son of God sent by the Father to reveal the depth of God’s love for us, and how, through the Spirit, we’re sent – in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit – to love as we have been loved [Matthew 28:19, John 13:34].

We enter the mystery of this Trinitarian relationship just as we do in any other relationship.  We begin with a personal relationship, by coming to know the other and allowing the other to know us.  We begin by spending time with Jesus and opening ourselves up to Him.  When this happens, all our other relationships begin to reflect – even if imperfectly – the perfect relationship of love of Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  It all begins with the mystery of falling in love and allowing ourselves to be loved in return.

But...Do you love Me?

 

I consider myself somewhat a romantic.  As a result, I’m a sucker for a good musical (they’re best if performed live, but a good movie will suffice) and ‘Fiddler on the Roof’ has always been one of my favorites.  In this show two of the principal characters, Tevye and Golde, sing a duet.  The song is “Do you Love me.”  Tevye, who is married to Golde asks her, after these many years of marriage, “do you love me?”.  At first, she resists even answering; but he keeps asking and she then answers that for 25 years she has looked after him, cared for the family and done so many things, but she doesn’t use the words he longs to hear.  So, he asks again, and she replies, ‘I’m your wife’ and goes on to speak about the many aspects of their relationship – still stressing the actions she does for him – like being with him, sharing intimacy together etc.  Finally, after he persists, she says the word ‘love’.

In the end they both sing that saying they love each other may not change the way they’re together nor affect the many actions they do for each other, but it is ‘nice to know’.

Jesus and Peter might be said to have a similar dialogue in John’s Gospel [John 21:15-19].  Jesus wishes to reassure Peter that he’s close to Him, that He and Peter will share a bond of no less than love itself and that Peter for his part only need to assent to this.  Because we read this text translated to English, the word ‘love’ seems to be used equally by Jesus and Peter.  But in fact, Jesus and Peter are using different words for ‘love’.  It seems Peter can’t bring himself to use the same deep and intimate word for ‘love’ that Jesus is using, preferring instead to use a ‘softer’ word.  Finally, it’s Jesus who changes His terminology and uses Peter’s language so as to reach a point of unity and communion between them.

And the ‘assent’ that Jesus is seeking is one of the heart – not just an assent of mind and will.  This is so that Peter may be a true leader for the people; because leadership in the vision of Jesus requires not just competence, or energy and availability, true as they are, but it requires relational commitment to the people.  For Jesus to be a leader is to be a person with a heartfelt love for others and someone who lives only to serve.  This often also entails a sacrifice of self for others.

What’s more, Peter is being asked to now care for a flock that has become more sedentary and settled.  That is, we see it reflects the life of a Christian community that has lived in the light of the resurrection for many generations already and who are at home with the Spirit’s influence in their lives. The church in the Johannine vision is more established and requiring more attention to its internal needs.  Peter is being asked to exercise a ‘pastoral’ role and not only a missionary one (more suited to the evangelizing mission of the early church).  Thus, we see in the scene the movement from fishing (missionary work) to a commitment of ongoing pastoral care (and thus the symbolic image of the church as a flock needing care and nourishment i.e., ‘feed my sheep’).

This balance of the church missionary, and the church pastoral is one we live to this day.  Whether we serve the Lord in missionary outreach or in pastoral care of the community itself, let our actions always be a response to his call ‘Do you love me?”.  Let’s take consolation too in the reality that all our service will find its nourishment in the Eucharist – as does Peter in his meal on the beach with Jesus.

Slow down, listen, and discern

 

Early on in my management career I learned to set daily goals and create my “to do” lists.  On most days I was single-minded about getting those goals and tasks accomplished.  But I also found myself being frustrated when things went wrong or when stuff happened to prevent or limit my accomplishments.  Does this sound familiar to you?

“They traveled through the Phrygian and Galatian territory because they had been prevented by the Holy Spirit from preaching the message in the province of Asia.” [Acts 16: 1-10]

The early Church was most focused on preaching and teaching the gospel message resulting in the people growing in faith and increasing in numbers.  I find it most interesting that when things went wrong or didn’t go the way they thought it should, the early Christians saw this as a sign of the Spirit leading or preventing them from proceeding.  Usually, when things don’t go my way, I sometimes get frustrated or angry rather than discern that God’s Spirit is speaking to me and providing guidance.

I remember learning a prayer when I was very young that the CCD teacher told us would be a great morning “offering”: “O Jesus, through the Immaculate Heart of Mary, I offer you my prayers, works, joys, and sufferings of this day for all the intentions of your Sacred Heart.”

What if each of us begin each day offering our day and our “to do” lists to God and ask for attunement to the Spirit speaking to us.  Lord, help me to slow down, to listen and discern Your guiding and leading me this day.  Amen.

Belief and Trust

 

The overriding theme in my reflection on Scriptures today seems to be, our belief and trust in God.  A reading from Acts [Acts 13:26-33] made me stop and consider, “When in my life have I failed to recognize God or failed to see that an event was a blessing from God.”  It  also reminded me of my need to truly find God in all things and to stay prayerful in my journey, living life according to the example of Jesus and to follow God’s hopes and desires for me.

“Serve the Lord with fear and rejoice before him; with trembling rejoice.”  When I read this line in Psalms [Psalm 2:6-11] I got a feeling of overwhelming thankfulness for all that God has blessed me with, including a rich relationship and belief in the power of God.  I’m thankful for my past and current blessings and am thankful for blessings I know that I’ll receive in the future.

I love the stories about the relationship between Thomas and Jesus.  Early in my life I remember thinking, ”I wonder why Thomas had difficulty believing when he actually lived at the time of Jesus.”  For me, Thomas is that part of me which questions, “Is this my will or is this God’s will”.  “How do I know this is God’s will for me?” “Master, we do not know where you are going; how can we know the way?”  I have to remind myself about the power of quiet prayer.  I want to trust and go in “a way” that, if it’s God’s will for me, life will unfold according to His plan. “Do not let your hearts be troubled, you have faith in God; have faith also in me.” [John 14:1-6]

Exhortation

Paul offered a word of exhortation at the synagogue at Antioch after the readings of the law and the prophets [Acts13-13-25].  As I imagine what the setting might have been like, it seems to me that Paul was probably the guest preacher who gave a short sermon.  He was asked to present it in the form of an exhortation, a style of speaking that must have been a tradition for the church at Antioch.  An exhortation is an urgent appeal in language that’s intended to incite or encourage. It can also give warning or advice.  I tend to like sermons of this type that strongly urge me to listen to some important advice.  But not all pastors or priests use this sermon style.  Some, however, like Paul, are gifted at exhortation.  In fact, many of the rest of us also have the spiritual gift of exhortation.  If we’ve worked with children or youth, we’ve probably used it, but we don’t often use it with our peers.  But we should.  The gift of exhortation allows God to speak through us to call others to important action.

Paul exhorted the people of Antioch to make the connections between the promises God made to his people in the Old Testament and the Gospel message of Christ.  In the Gospel of John, Jesus exhorts His disciples to recognize the fulfillment of the Scriptures through Him.  He then encourages them to receive the Holy Spirit on behalf of God the Father through Him [John 13:16-20].  Where are we in all of this?  We’re like the people in Antioch and the disciples.  We’re exhorted to acts of repentance and faith.  We’re also exhorted to let God and the Holy Spirit work through us with humility, just as Jesus demonstrated humility when He washed His disciples’ feet.  Today I pray for those among us who have the gift of exhortation, to let God work through them that they may encourage and give warnings or advice to others.  I pray that we’re all exhorted to greater faith, repentance, and mission.

Spread the Word

 

After I started college, I was occasionally approached by Evangelicals who gave testimony and were in my face about whether I had been born again, accepted Jesus, and so on.  Back then, like a great many Catholics (I assume), I was a bit uncomfortable wearing my religion on my sleeve.  

The first time I heard people publicly confessing their sins and telling how they had found the Lord, I felt like I was watching them undress.  When they would demand to know the state of my soul before I could converse with them further, I had to strongly resist the urge to say MYOB.  It’s just the way I was raised, I guess. 

Today, when I read from Acts about how Barnabas and Saul “proclaimed the word of God in the Jewish synagogues” I wondered how I would have responded to them [Acts 12:24-13:5].  Probably a lot like I reacted to the Evangelicals giving testimony on my campus.  Most likely, I would have walked away, embarrassed for these nut cases.

Yet I believe as strongly as any Evangelical that Jesus was sent here to be our light and to light our way out of darkness [John 12:44-50].  Before Jesus it was all darkness, but Jesus is the manifestation of God’s word to save us.  He’s a beacon, illuminating the path, lighting the right way.  He’s our guide, our leader. Here to save us from the darkness, not to condemn us.  Before we were trapped in the darkness, but now there’s light, a way out.  Believing in Jesus is believing in God who sent Jesus.  And not believing keeps us trapped in the darkness of ignorance and despair.

Jesus comes, sent by the Father, on the authority of the Father, speaking the words of the Father.  He’s our savior—if we recognize who He is and where He comes from.  He will save us if we let Him, but if we’re condemned it’s by our own actions – our refusal to see the light and our determination to stay in darkness.  Jesus speaks God’s words of eternal life and shows us that light.  We choose light or darkness.

I think all of us who share this belief have an obligation to help spread it.  

There are many ways we can participate in that effort, most importantly by living the Gospel in our daily lives in countless small ways.  As a Christian, I have to make an effort to forgive those who have hurt me and to seek forgiveness from those I have injured.  I have to try to reach out to others in the ways that Jesus suggested through the spiritual and corporal works of mercy.

I’ll never be completely comfortable aggressively proclaiming my Christianity or trying to push it onto others.  But surely Jesus will understand if I try to overcome my many weaknesses and live as someone who takes His teachings seriously.

Imaginary letter "found"

 

Several times throughout the year, most commonly around Christmas and Easter, stories of “new” discoveries in the Holy Land surface on the internet, claiming to debunk some aspect of the life of Christ or another key tenet of Christianity.  With this in mind, and after reading some of John’s Gospel today [John 10:22-30], I thought it might be fun to write an imaginary letter that might have been sent from one of the apostles to a respected rabbi around the year 30 in Jerusalem (if in fact it had been written):

Dear Rabbi ­

I have heard you are a man of great learning, well-versed in the Torah and wise beyond telling.  My name is Thomas.  I’m part of a group of like-minded people who follow and listen to Jesus of Nazareth.  We’ve seen him perform wondrous things—healing the sick, curing long-time afflictions, changing water to wine, even raising the dead—all in the name of God.  We believe him to be a great man, one who is clearly blessed by and sent from God.  But many of us still aren’t sure who this Jesus is exactly.  Is He the Messiah?  A great prophet?  Some say He is divine, but that seems so blasphemous as to be beyond belief.

Today in the temple, some of the priests pressed Jesus with this question.  Practical men, they asked Jesus to simply say if He is in fact the Messiah.  I’ve been with Him for a while, and I sometimes wonder the same thing.  He doesn't always speak clearly, but teaches us in parables and examples, and doesn't always tell us what the lesson is.  So we argue and try to put our thoughts together, but we still don't always agree.  And many times, what He says He came to do doesn't sound a lot like what we think the Messiah is supposed to do.  Many of us want the Romans out of our land and for a resurgence of Israel, but He doesn't even talk of raising armies or seizing political power.

His answer today was more direct than normal.  He said He has told us in the past, and that His works testify to who He is.  I don't recall Him saying specifically in the past that He is the Messiah (although He has said things that imply He is the Chosen One), but then not all of us are with Him at all times.  I can testify that the people who come to hear Him and be touched by Him are in awe of His power to soothe their suffering, no matter what form it takes.  His works truly do make a difference in the lives of so many of the people in our land, Jew and gentile alike. He’s the best man I’ve ever known or heard of.

I understand what He means when He speaks of being a shepherd and that we are His sheep who follow Him.  But I need to understand more what He means when He says, "The Father and I are one."  So I’m still not sure who this Jesus is, but I know that I must keep following Him to learn more.  Perhaps you can help me in my doubts—who do you think He is?

Sincerely,

Thomas (Didymus)

Athirst for the living God

 

“As the hind longs for running waters, so my soul longs for you oh God.  Athirst is my soul for God the living God.” [Psalms 42:2-3; 43:3-4]

Have you ever noticed how readily people are drawn to sit near fountains in our parks and malls?  The sound and sight of running water is an image that naturally draws our attention and refreshes us.

Fountains, for me, help create an atmosphere that can bridge natural beauty with a sense of God’s supernatural beauty and life amid city noise and business.  God is at work in all creation laboring to refresh us.  The sound and sight of a fountain's running waters can assist us by inviting us to listen within for those streams of living waters, that can quench our deepest thirsts.

Jesus’ Spirit always desires to refresh us as that interior wellspring, that interior fountain that flows with satiating love for us.

A clear way to identify and receive this refreshment is to pay attention to our hearts deepest yearnings.  These desires reach out thirsting for true love.  So often we settle for less and foolishly try to quench our thirsts with material things, through overwork, or with ways of human relating that are at best utilitarian.

As we grow in wisdom and grace we begin to learn the ultimate paradox.  Our deepest yearnings, our thirsts that reach out to be satisfied are best satisfied whenever we freely choose to remain empty.  Instead of allowing our yearnings to be focused primarily on the passing satisfactions that come with acquisitions or achievements, we learn to remain empty, turning with our thirsts to receive from Jesus’ Spirit.  He’s the One who is thirsting for each of us with a love that truly satiates our hearts.

As creator, Jesus’ Spirit instilled living fountain-like streams that flow within our hearts.  These streams are flowing with divine love amid all of our interior noise and busyness.  May we always be “athirst for God, the living God.”  Amid the dryness of our desolations, Jesus’ Spirit desires to console us.  The reality is that the context of our lives is a house of spiritual formation!

Even though yesterday was Mother's Day, I couldn't help but think of mothers and their children when I reflected on today's gospel reading [John 10:1-10].

Today's story revisits the truth of Jesus as gatekeeper, the one true way, and His relationship with those He leads.  The sheep respond to the shepherd, not the stranger (thieves and marauders).  They follow the shepherd in and out of the safety of the sheepfold.

Sheep aren't particularly bright animals, so why do they give loyalty to one person rather than another?  Why don't they follow the stranger?  Because they don't recognize the stranger's voice.  And why do they recognize the voice of the shepherd?  I think it’s because they’re responding to the shepherd's unconditional love.

The shepherd is with them in good times and bad, fair weather and foul, times of peace and times of terror.  The shepherd protects the sheep with his own life against the perils that beset them.  The sheep sense this concern, this deep and unconditional love for their well-being, and they respond with unquestioning faith.

When I was a young boy, my love for and faith in my mother was like the sheep to the shepherd.  She was the life-giver, my solace, the source of all love in my life, the comforter, the healer, even at times the redeemer.  Of course I felt my father's love, but my mother was always the place of first, last and best tranquility.  I knew that she always loved me, no matter what I had done nor how I had trampled on her feelings.  Yet as I grew older, I realized she couldn’t solve all the problems, prevent all the hurts, keep at bay all the wolves of my life.

Jesus reminds us that He alone can provide the ultimate solace as we face the wolves and thieves and marauders in our lives.  He is the shepherd, and if we walk in His shadow we’ll be safe.

And so my prayer for today is that I can re-feel my young love for my mother and hers for me, that I can sense the faith of the sheep toward the shepherd, and that I then can lose myself in the unconditional love of Jesus and not be distracted by the temptations to doubt my safety in His care.

Trusted voices

 When I was very young, I remember hearing for the first time that everyone dies at some point.  It frightened me a lot.  I remember crying to my mom and asking, “Does everybody die?”  She told me the truth—that is everybody dies, but nobody knows when, except God, so I didn’t need to worry about it, other than to be a good boy.  Then she taught me how to pray the Rosary.  The last line of the Hail Mary prayer is "Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death."   Of course, to my naive mind, this meant two things:  I had been a bad kid and death was imminent.  But as I have “advanced in wisdom and age” [Luke 2:52], I now know and love our Blessed Mother and the prayer she gave us as much, I think, as my own mother did.  On that day those many years ago, Mom answered my most troubling question in the most comforting way.  Her simple assurance has helped me through countless times of worry and grief.

There’s nothing like the sound of the voice of someone we know and trust.  A familiar voice assures us of a familiar presence, someone who’s within reach and who can share in our joy or console us in our sorrow.  Writing about the mystery of our Lord’s descent into hell and His victory over death, Pope Benedict XVI once drew a comparison to the common experience of being afraid of the dark: “If a child had to venture out alone through the woods on a dark night, he would be afraid even if he were to be shown a hundred times that there was nothing to fear. He is not afraid of anything specific, to which he could put a name, but in the dark, he feels insecure, an orphan, he feels the sinister character of inner existence. Only a human voice could console him; only the hand of a person he loves could banish the anguish, like a bad dream.” [Remarks during the Angelus Prayer, June 22, 2008]

How appropriate it is that Mother’s Day this year falls on Good Shepherd Sunday!  Jesus compares Himself to a shepherd, guiding and protecting us.  He promises the sheep of His flock that He will forever hold them securely in His hand [John 10: 27-30].  How fortunate we are who have had mothers who have guided us, protected us, loved us, and held us, who have treated us with the tender loving care of the Good Shepherd!  Christ’s own passage through death frees us from the fear that we will be abandoned in death.

During the Easter season we rejoice in the certainty that Christ’s voice reaches the dead, calling them to life. “The hour is coming and is now here when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who hear will live” [John 5:25-28].  On this Good Shepherd Sunday, we take heart and are encouraged by our Lord’s words.  When we feel lonely or far from God, we can turn to Him in confidence; He will never abandon us. “My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow.” [John 10:27]

Losing sight of the big picture

 

As I read from the Acts of the Apostles today, I encountered a story of healing and resurrection [Acts 9:31-42].  The characters were the paralyzed, bedridden Aeneas, the deceased Tabitha, and her friends, the "saints and widows".  Only weeks removed from Christ’s own death and resurrection, I can’t help but be pulled back to the crucifixion scene with the women, including Christ’s widowed mother, standing at the foot of the cross.  My mind naturally played on to the following morning when again it was the women who were the first to come to the tomb.

I’ve been thinking of late that we’ve come to departmentalize things.  We call them issues.  We have the gender issue, the race issue, the capital punishment issue, the abortion and assisted death issues.  Not to forget the international issues.   The list is endless.  In trying to cope with all these issues, I think we may be reading into scripture what may not be there.  When we encounter scripture in fragments, we tend to lose focus of the big picture.  Christ’s message, His dream, and that of the apostles was the issue of inclusion; one family, one community, love, compassion, and mercy—for one and all.

For me this makes the "issues" of the present day at once more of a mental challenge, but at the same time somehow easier to hold in my heart.  It’s extremely difficult to exclude anyone when love and mercy is the ultimate goal.

"I walk before the Lord in the Land of the living."  (Psalm 116)

Knocked off my high horse!

 

Well, I’m back.  I think.  Not having had so much as a sniffle for over 2 years made me cocky, so when I caught a cold last Friday night, it came on fast and severe.  And I thought I really was going to some dark places during the first 3 days (providential?) of my illness.  Fortunately—unlike in years past when I usually had to suffer alone and on the road—Marilyn, Alicia, and Lily were here to keep me from going completely insane.

The first couple of days I was in and out of sleep.  What was unusual is that I barely looked at my phone to check social media, and I probably turned the TV on once for an hour.  Mostly, I slept.  And dreamt.  What was strange about it was that for those 2 days, I had one long, continuous dream. If I woke up for a while, I would just sit in my chair with my eyes closed until I fell asleep, and the dream picked up where I left it.   It was like, as they say, my life was flashing before my eyes.  I don’t want to be overly dramatic, but it truly felt that way.  I was seeing not only my entire family from both my mother’s and my father’s side, but anyone I had ever met from my wife’s family as well!  I even “reconnected” with many friends (and foes), some of whom I’m sorry to say I had forgotten, or at the very least filed away in the deepest recesses of my memory!  I think the strangest thing about the dream was that it had a “This is Your Life” vibe to it.  I was presented with all of these different individuals and shown how my relationship with them changed my life for the better—even those I have called “foes”, no matter how insignificant our relationship may have been at the time. 

As I got better, the dream finally ended, but for the last couple of days I’ve been trying to make sense of what the purpose of my deep self-reflection was.  I find it somewhat comforting that, although I didn’t feel much like doing anything else, I did feel a strong desire to continue praying my Rosary each day, meditating on the life of Christ—and my own spiritual life; and how very, very far I am from perfect, as Jesus tells us we must be to enter the Kingdom of Heaven [Matthew 5:48]. 

In our minds, often in the deep recesses, we each carry concepts of what we long for our lives. These are our plans, our hopes, our ideals, everything that gives us direction and meaning.  They shape our daily commitments, our lives’ work and worth.

They include school and career plans, designs for a life partner and a family, hopes for financial security and possessions to ease life’s pains and chaos, respect of our families, friends and communities, enough power over life’s variables to call our own shots and keep threats at bay.

These concepts are endorsed by our cultures, our societies, blessing our efforts with acceptance and applause for achieving certain goals.  Our lifestyles, in a sense, become “idols”.

Then, out of nowhere, the unexpected happens.  A spouse is unfaithful, a child overdoses, the diagnosis is cancer, the rejection letter comes from the ideal university, a toddler is diagnosed with autism, the company sends a pink slip, the mentor dies of a heart attack, a loved one is murdered or permanently disabled by a drunk driver, or—an example each of us can relate to—a pandemic comes out to nowhere.

The trauma, unplanned and disruptive, derails any loyalty contract we have with our dreams, our ideal life, our carefully mapped out path to happiness.  Our idol is knocked off its pedestal.

Such disruption, such discontinuity, can lead some to retreat, to seek comfort in what will never give comfort…drugs, alcohol, gambling, addiction to sex, dominating others, craving more status or possessions, all to fill the hole left by the disappointment, the “failure” experienced when life as we plan it is shattered.

One thing that helped me interpret my illness-induced dream is the story of a focused, goal-oriented man whose life’s work was assured to be the work of God.  He won praise and status among his peers for stamping out the new group of followers of Jesus.

Then, out of the blue, he was literally knocked off his high horse.

Dazed and confused, he retreated to sort out the meaning of the trauma.

In time, by the slow workings of the Spirit, this fanatic of Jewish righteousness grew in his awareness of his new identity to become the man God wanted him to become.

He surrendered, giving his entire self to a whole new set of loyalties.  The rest is history…Christianity crossed the barrier of being a Jewish sect to extend its reach to all Gentiles, to become radically all-inclusive [Acts 9:1-20].

The extraordinary experience of Saul of Tarsus was not unique to him.  Sooner or later each of us will experience our own tumbles from our high horses.  These moments are Providential.  Rather than retreat into depression or a superficial distraction, they’re occasions to awaken to a deeper, richer relationship with Christ.  We learn, as Paul learned, that God’s love and grace is all we need when we surrender to the new reality God gives us [Ephesians 2:8-9].

Our fullness of life is found in our connection to the Body and Blood of Christ.  This nourishment gives us life when all is bleak, dark and deadening [John 6:52-59].

The setback, the giving up what we made too important, our idol, becomes a gift to strengthen our dependence on God, to help us see the path God intends for us, to provide what we need to live solely to do God’s will, God’s plan and God’s goals for us.  This transformation is painful.  It really hurts. And it demands total self-giving, total humility.  As I said, I’ve a long way to go.

We learn the meaning of our new reality when we pray in silence—and maybe with a little suffering attached—which is the language of God.