Welcoming Matthew

 

In 1977, the television mini-series “Jesus of Nazareth”, directed by Franco Zeffirelli was aired over a two-week period.  It is one of my all-time favorites for one scene that brought me to tears.  Jesus was invited to the house of Levi (Matthew) to dine.  Simon (not Peter, yet), uncertain about Jesus mingling with tax collectors and sinners, stands just outside the entrance to Matthew’s home listening to Jesus speak to the crowd inside.  Simon, played by James Farentino, weeps at his own failure to grasp Jesus’ mission.  It was a very moving scene.  

Jesus didn’t reserve His love for the likable or the “deserving.”  Where others saw fishermen, He saw leaders.  Where others saw sinners, He saw sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, and new friends.  Where others saw a tax collector, Jesus saw Matthew, the person.  Jesus did not ignore or condemn Matthew; He called him.  Defying the cultural norms of His time, Jesus did not hesitate to share a meal with Matthew’s friends—people labeled as sinners, outsiders, and the unwanted.  The religious leaders were outraged, and the self-righteous were scandalized. Yet Jesus reminded them—and reminds us—that His purpose is to meet us in our brokenness: “I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.”  Mercy is placed above judgment, just as God proclaimed through Isaiah.  So, who are the Matthews in our lives?   Where does suspicion or self-righteousness still keep us from extending God’s love?

Despite our best intentions as children of God, many of us have an unconscious tendency towards selective compassion.  Often, we divide the world into categories: “us” and “them,” “righteous” and “sinner,” “deserving” and “undeserving.”  We might not name these divisions out loud, but our actions often speak for us —through whom we help, whom we welcome, or whom we avoid.  It’s comforting to believe that the table of God’s love is wide, and that all we need to do is come hungry, recognizing that it’s not just the “other” who needs this radical inclusivity—we need it too.

By dining with tax collectors and sinners, Jesus redefined the boundaries of belonging.  He sought out the excluded, the despised, and the forgotten.  His compassion shattered social and cultural barriers, making space for everyone in His circle.  Jesus acted not out of convenience, but with unwavering commitment to loving all people equally.  Jesus believed in people’s potential to become more than they were, and more than people say they are.  To love as God loves means extending grace to those who have hurt us, choosing kindness when we are tempted to judge, and making room for those who challenge our worldview.  Today, Jesus reminds us of the radical inclusivity of God’s love and demonstrates the power of restorative action, which begins when we stop trying to earn righteousness and instead participate in God’s mission to restore human hearts and broken systems in our world.  This path is uncomfortable, often disruptive, yet profoundly liberating for all.

Are we willing to sit at the table with those we deem unworthy of our time, love, or friendship?  Are we prepared to set aside self-preservation to lift the “yoke” of oppression, paving the way for reconciliation and communal flourishing?  Are we open to stretching our hearts, inviting people into a radical relationship of grace and belonging?  Just as Matthew left his tax booth to follow Jesus, so must we leave behind our excuses, comforts, and fears.  In today’s polarized culture, this challenge is perhaps greater—and more necessary—than ever.

Fasting is not always about food

 

Clothe the naked.  Feed the hungry.  Shelter the homeless.  Care for your family.  Free the unjustly imprisoned.  The Lord says, "This is the fasting that I wish."  (Isaiah 58:5).  Lent is far more than mere observances on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday.  It’s healing the "wound" of our sinfulness by living our faith of love, compassion and respect.  Only then will our light shine, will we be vindicated and will our Lord answer resoundingly, "Here I am!"

In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus admonishes those who question His disciples’ failure to fast, saying "The attendants of the bridegroom cannot mourn as long as the bridegroom is with them, can they?"  The disciples don’t fast because God is in their midst.  The time for fasting will come when "the bridegroom is taken away."  With these few words, Jesus reveals the true intention of such ritual offerings-searching and longing to be closer to God. (Matthew 9:14-15)

Fasting is undertaken for the sake of right relationships and solidarity with those who suffer unjustly in this world.  Fasting can easily lend itself to hypocrisy.  When hypocrisy becomes a way of life, then no amount of fasting will wash away our guilt.

Pope Leo IV, in his first Lenten message urged us to take up a practical form of self-denial: “I would like to invite you to a very practical and unappreciated form of abstinence: that of refraining from words that offend and hurt our neighbor.  Let us begin by disarming our language, avoiding harsh words and rash judgement, refraining from slander and speaking ill of those who are not present and cannot defend themselves.  Instead, let us strive to measure our words and cultivate kindness and respect in our families, among our friends, at work, on social media, and in political debates . . . In this way, words of hatred will give way to words of hope and peace.”

We can all benefit from this form of fasting!

Am I happy?

 

Was Jesus happy in this life?  Certainly, His earthly existence was marked by hardship.  He was born in a cave, escaped Herod’s attempt on His life as an infant, and likely lost Saint Joseph at a young age.  He endured 40 days of intense temptation by Satan, was rejected by His own people in Nazareth, and, though loved by many, was hated by others.  Ultimately, He was betrayed, unjustly condemned, beaten, and crucified.

Is that happiness?  Not in a worldly sense.  But Jesus’ happiness was in doing the will of His Father.  This obedience, this perfect fulfillment of His divine mission, brought a happiness beyond our human comprehension—a deep, abiding joy rooted in perfect love and surrender to God’s plan.

As we begin Lent, a good question to ask ourselves might be: “Am I happy?”  Many people struggle with this question.  Like our Lord, we endure trials, suffering, and disappointment.  Jesus wasn’t exempt from these; He faced the full range of human experience.  He likely faced rejection as a boy because He was different.  He knew the sorrow of losing loved ones and faced the daily demands of work to help support His family.

In the mystery of the Incarnation—God becoming man—the Son of God intimately shares in every human suffering.  He understands our struggles and sorrows firsthand.  This is why Jesus can look at us with compassion and say, “I understand.”  He is not only divine and transcendent, He is also intimately close, having lived through the very trials we face.

It’s this reality that makes His words so powerful: “Take up your cross daily and follow me.”  The Cross is the roadmap to true happiness.  Our human nature might seek to avoid suffering, but Jesus invites us to embrace it with grace, uniting it with His own suffering.  Through the Cross, we find victory and fulfillment in ways that our natural reasoning could never grasp.

Take the challenge

 The crowds were pressing in on Jesus to listen to Him, and He escaped to a nearby fishing boat on the Lake of Gennesaret — at first to better teach the eager, receptive, and large crowd.  The scene in the boat changed when Jesus directed Peter to put out into the deep waters and lower the fishing nets for a catch…  Peter protested, as his crew had been fishing all night and had caught nothing.

Even though we might not be fisherfolk ourselves, we can sympathize with Peter – the professional fisherman.  He knew the waters of the lake, the best times and places for fishing; it was critical for his livelihood.  Along comes Jesus the Carpenter, who tells him to go fishing in the deep water at the wrong time of the day.  Peter’s initial protest, “…we’ve worked hard all night long and have caught nothing…” was immediately followed by his profession of faith in Jesus: “…if you say so, at your command I’ll lower the nets.”  The result:  a boatload of fish — and the call of Jesus to leave everything and follow Him as a disciple.  (Luke 5:1-11)

If we want to take up the challenge Jesus gave to Simon, the best place to start might be to deepen our own prayer life; seek the help of the Holy Spirit to feel comfortable sharing the good news; and pray that those with whom we interact will find a place in their hearts for God.

With the Holy Spirit at our side, some of us might share the good news when we encourage others to attend services, invite friends to participate in a Bible study group, or simply share stories of our faith.

Maybe just as important as overt actions intended to encourage others to know the Good News, is the need to focus on living our lives in a way that reflects God’s constant love for us. To demonstrate our faith through our deeds means actively serving others, forgiving those who have wronged us, and being a friend who will encourage and support others when in need.

By living our faith, we, too, can show others the endless joy we share because God is first and foremost in our lives.

No exceptions

 

It’s simple. Love your God with all your heart, all your soul and all your mind. Love your neighbor as yourself (Matthew 22:34-40).  But we never make it simple.  We want control.  We want exceptions.  I can love that nice neighbor.  I have some reservations about those other neighbors.  We want to draw lines: It would be inconvenient for me to spend five minutes to chat with a lonely neighbor.  I’m too busy to reach out to my friend who may be going through a hard time.  That clerk at the coffee place took sooo long to get my order; she deserved my big sighs and eye-rolling.

There aren’t exceptions.  If we are to find God in all things, we have to reach inside of ourselves and be that better person we can be all the time.  Not just when it’s convenient or easy or makes me feel good or lets other people see what a good person I am.  Does this mean I’ll never be impatient or short with someone?  Probably not.  But this commandment does mean that I should think every day about ways that I can love my God with all my heart and all my soul and all my mind by living out that second rule.  No exceptions.  No whining.  No it’s-not-my-turn thoughts.

My prayer is to let me be aware of these moments every day where I love my neighbor, where I can send ripples of love and care out into the world.  No exceptions.

Who doesn't love a wedding?

 

It’s so consoling to think of heaven as a wedding feast. I think that Jesus must have loved wedding feasts and found them to be the closest analogy He could find to give us a peek into what God has prepared for us. “The Kingdom of heaven may be likened to a king who gave a wedding feast for his son." (Matthew 22:1-14)

The drama builds when the people first invited simply don't respond.  The king's response to them in the story replays the whole history of God's working with the Chosen People and Jesus' listeners knew it immediately.  Now comes the really good news: "Go out, therefore, into the main roads and invite to the feast whomever you find."  All along it was God's plan to offer salvation and the joys of the Kingdom of heaven, not only to a chosen few, but to everyone!  The victory Jesus will win over sin and death is universal.  It’s for all people.

Then, like most great parables, the story takes a surprising twist.  One of the invited guests doesn't have a wedding garment.  (It seems apparent that the person is without a wedding garment out of ingratitude and lack of serious respect for the king.  It’s not that the guest couldn't afford one.)  While the invitation is universal; that is, it’s free and unmerited, there’s also a universal call to holiness.  We’re called to receive the gifted invitation by living our lives as grateful guests.  We’re invited to be with Jesus by being like Him.  We’re called to come to the banquet ready to celebrate because we’ve been ready and open to giving our lives in imitation of the one who invited us.

How often it seems that we who have been invited to be part of the kingdom of heaven, simply take it for granted, as if all this gifted relationship with Jesus is about is our salvation.  We seem quite satisfied to know that we’re saved.  We can unconsciously act as though, "Well if I don't do anything seriously wrong, I'm in.  What more do I need to worry about?"

I think this parable makes it clear that our holiness has to "surpass that of the scribes and pharisees." (Matthew 5:20)   Jesus wants us to know that “it is mercy that I desire, not sacrifice." (Matthew 9:13) One of His final parables will tell us that our judgement—the decision about whether we ultimately will enter the Kingdom of heaven—depends upon whether we care for the "least of my brothers and sisters"—feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, caring for the sick and the imprisoned. (Matthew 25)

In our prayers, we should ask for the grace to receive the invitation worthily, then respond more and more fully to Jesus' invitation to love as we have been loved.  Let’s see, feel, and act upon the invitation to eternal life by dying to ourselves a bit more every day, particularly in each of our relationships.  Let's forget about our own wounds and become healers of others' wounds.  Let’s open our hearts to hear the cries of all those who are poor and on the margins of our societies.  Let’s ask ourselves how we can respond, what role we can take, and how we can make a difference.  Let's put on a wedding garment, committing ourselves, and witnessing to everyone, that we’re definitely ready for the banquet of heaven.

A perfect love

 

My reflection today is about the wealthy landowner who at the end of the day paid everyone the same daily wage, even though some only spent an hour laboring. (Matthew 20:1-16) Perhaps we can better understand the point Jesus is making if we think of it in terms of parenthood. A loving parent cares about each of his and her children equally.  Although each gives more attention to those who need it more, they love the last born no less than the first born, even if they have a large household.

God the Father is like a vineyard owner who gives equally to all, regardless of how long anyone has worked in his service. Since we can’t earn our way into heaven, equal benefits are not an injustice to those who labored for His kingdom all of their lives.

Rather, God’s been giving us complete and perfect love since the moment of our conception in our mother’s womb.  Although we’ve become aware of His goodness a lot sooner than those who only discover a relationship with Him at the last minute (and this is a benefit we enjoy, but they lack), He's been loving them since the moment of their conception, too. He can do no less.

Early in life, we learned that we we'd probably get more approval from Mom or Dad if we got more A’s on the report card or more trophies in sports than our siblings. Such competition affects us after we grow up. When God blesses us, we think: “I earned it!”

And when we feel unblessed because bad things happen to us, we think: “I’m not sure God loves me as much as He loves others.  Why?  Because I have to earn God’s approval and no matter how hard I try, I’m just not good enough.” Or: “My prayer hasn’t been answered yet because I haven’t said enough Rosaries.”

But none of that is necessary with God.  God is so generous in His love that we don’t have to do anything to receive blessings from Him. Well, actually, there is one thing we do have to do: We have to approach the vineyard owner with our hands open.

In God’s vineyard, the last is put first, because the one who is last is the one who’s not competing with others to earn first position.  This is the person who knows that God’s love is always available simply because God is love. We don’t have to climb any ladder of heavenly success; we’re instantly on the top rung the moment we discover that God already loves us fully.  The only reason we serve Him and work hard for Him, giving Him our best, unwilling to be mediocre, is simply because we love Him so very much.

 

What happens next is so awesome; it’s saintly. We lose the selfishness that has kept us from putting others first. We find joy in helping our brothers and sisters receive the Father’s assistance ahead of us, happily praying for them more than we pray for ourselves. And we get excited when the “lazy bums” in the family, the ones who’ve been rebelling against God all their lives, finally join the Christian workforce and benefit from God’s love as much as we do.

 

The Gospel at Mass today is one of my favorites (Luke 2:22-40).  The account of Jesus’ Presentation to God in the Temple reminds me of encounters I’ve had with “Simeons” and “Annas” in my own faith life during daily Masses, back when I was in the habit of attending them (pre-retirement).  

There is at least one—or sometimes both—in every parish, it seems.

At Saint Anne’s in Lodi, he’s there every night for the 5:30p.m. Mass.  He’s the guy you go out of your way to cross the street to avoid; unshaven, always the same wrinkled clothes, and cheap sandals on his feet.  But he slips into the chapel every night at about 5:29 to listen to the Word of God and share in the Eucharist.  He never kneels, never sits.  He only stands with his hands folded and his eyes on the crucifix.  He is always the last in line to receive Our Lord, both the Host and the Precious Blood.  When Mass is over, he feels obligated to open the door for everyone to leave and to give them a smile.

At Saint Helen’s church in Fresno, she’s the elderly Filipino lady who knows the words to every hymn, but obviously not the notes.  She wears a head covering and the rosary beads in her hands keep count as she says her Hail Marys under her breath throughout the Mass and her face glows when she receives the Eucharist.  She is always last in line to receive both the Host and the Precious Blood.

At St. Mary’s of the Ascension in Downtown Stockton, it’s the 3 ladies who arrive at 11am for the noon Mass to pray the Divine Mercy Chaplet and a Rosary beforehand.  Quite often it’s just the 3 of them.  But they still lug out the microphone and pass it between them as they lead the different parts of the prayers.  Since Confessions are heard from 11:30 until noon, it sometimes makes it hard to listen to the priest as I’m confessing my sins.  Still, I can’t complain.  They could very well be praying for me!

In Bakersfield, he's there at Saint Joseph’s, the old Mexican man with his harmonica, his arthritis-gnarled hands, and his hunched back.  His quirks are a little different from a lot of other people, but they’re servitude in nature.  He will grab a bunch of bulletins, or missalettes, or whatever else is in the church to read then tap everyone on the shoulder and offer it to whoever wants it.  During Mass, he's the unofficial "music minister".  He knows about 5 tunes on his harmonica; "Holy God, We Praise Your Name", "The Battle Hymn of the Republic", "Taps" and "The Halls of Montezuma".  Unfortunately, they all sound eerily similar.  He yawns loudly, though involuntarily, throughout the Mass except during the prayer of Consecration and when he receives the Eucharist; always the last in line to receive the Host and the Precious Blood, even though he sits in the front pew, center.

At the Cathedral in Stockton, he’s the guy who sits in the very last pew during daily Mass when there are only about 20 people in total in attendance.  But you hear him respond when he's supposed to, in that booming, unmistakable voice.  Again, he's the last to receive, and under both Species.

And then there was my mother who, after becoming so infirm she couldn’t leave the house to attend Mass, arranged to have the Eucharist brought to her as often as possible.  For a couple of years, this was my privilege.  She, like Anna, also prayed persistently not only for her needs, but for the needs of others.

All of these people remind me of the parable of the persistent woman of prayer in Luke 18.  At the conclusion of the parable, Jesus asks His disciples, “But when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?" (Luke 18:8)

I have confidence that He will.  I strive to be like the "one in every parish" one day in a simple, fervent, and humble faith.

Keeping Advent

 

After spending Thanksgiving weekend with the family up at the cabin, I find myself battling a cold that I must have picked up from my middle grandchild.  It’s a mystery to me how I caught it because ever since Covid hit in 2020, I’ve been very careful (some might say compulsive) about the basic preventions to illness, i.e., washing my hands frequently, social distancing when necessary, and watching out for others who may have something to spread.  It’s been relatively hard to keep my focus on these things, to be honest.  And, in turn, when I get a cold, it’s hard to reflect on Advent as much as I like.

For others, the temptations to “lose” Advent can come in a lot of different ways:  planning holiday parties, doing holiday shopping, and so forth. 

It may be hard to "keep" Advent, but if we make the effort, the Lord will bless us.  In the midst of what can be a hectic season, why not set aside a time of quiet just for Jesus and you?  It will take some effort but take whatever time you can manage - even 15 minutes - and it will help you to center your heart on the real "reason for the season."  That "reason," of course, is Jesus!

Spend some time with Him! Come to Him in a simple, childlike way, and He will reveal to you the mysteries of heaven.  As Jesus prays to His Father in Luke’s gospel, "Although you have hidden these things from the wise and learned you have revealed them to the childlike." (Luke 10:21-24)

Patient Endurance

 

As a rule, the patience of virtue is not one of the strong points of people in today’s world.  We want things to be done quickly and efficiently.  Promises and appointments should be kept as accurately as they were made; otherwise an outburst of impatience may follow.  We have all experienced the impatient and impulsive driver in front of or behind us who takes unreasonable chances and causes disaster quite often.  Patients in a hospital or nursing home obviously must practice the virtue of patience.  They have to wait for recovery patiently and when they’re old or sick for a long time they often have to wait for company or friends with even more patience.

A classic example of impatience is that of the Jews at Mount Sinai.  In waiting for Moses’ return from the mountain, they lost patience and constructed the golden calf.  They said to Aaron, “Come, make us a god who will be our leader” (Exodus 32:1).

Advent is a time of waiting for the coming of Christ.  Promises have been made to us about a way out of our distress.  Salvation will come, but when?  We pray, but does God listen?  Jeremiah (33:14-16), St. Paul in his first letter to the Thessalonians (3:12-4:2), and Jesus (Luke 21:25-38) deal with this problem.  Waiting for somebody to come, i.e., Jesus Christ, supposes patience.  We must accept the human condition of “not yet” with the patient hope for better things to come.

Just the beginning

 

I’ll bet we’ve all seen pictures of hooded and robed people walking with signs that warn, “Repent, the end is near!”  Or, how about, “The world is going to end soon”?  Well, while their timing may be off, they’re not entirely wrong, as a matter of fact.  Several passages in the Bible remind us of something that we almost never pay attention to that, one day, the world as we know and experience it will one day cease to exist.  There’s an end time awaiting us all in one way or another, and the question is, are we ready for it?  Are we prepared to face this second coming of Jesus, whether that be in the world itself or even in our own lives?

In Luke’s Gospel (Luke 17:26-37), Jesus is sitting with His disciples and talking with them about what is called “the end times,” i.e. the end of the world and the second coming of Jesus as the victorious and risen Lord.  It will be a time not only of vindication and the revelation of the glory of the Lord, but it will also be a time of judgment and accounting.  Jesus shares this truth with His disciples, there’s no question about it.  He will come again and there will be a reckoning of how we, His disciples, have served the Lord and lived out His Gospel mandate.  In addition, we know neither the day nor the hour when this will take place.  But there is little doubt to be sure, it will happen!  And what matters is that we’re ready for the moment and are not found wanting.

There are other stories similar to the one we find in Luke.  For example, Matthew, chapter 25, uses the image of a bridegroom returning home and the warning that we must be ready for his return and not be caught foolishly without enough oil for our lamps to greet him.  These are reminders that we’re all called to be prepared to meet the Lord and to give an account of ourselves and how we’ve lived out the teaching of Jesus.  How do we do this?  Clearly, we’re called to pay attention to the Lord and not to the foolish distractions of the world.  But there’s a gift in all of this, and that gift is that, if we choose day by day, to live as Jesus has taught us, to love our neighbor, to love everyone in fact, and to love God above all else, then we’ll be prepared for whatever is to come and need not live in doubt, worry, or fear.  I find great assurance that all will be well and that there’s nothing to fear.  This is truly good news for us today, isn’t it?  We’re all called to live in the joy of the Lord and not in fear of what’s certainly to come. 

Remember

 

"All Souls Day."  It’s a day to celebrate, reverence and remember those who have gone before us.  We remember our loved ones – family, friends, colleagues, co-workers, neighbors and significant strangers.  We remember those alive in our hearts, and those forgotten in history.  We remember all who have gone before.

For me, it’s a day to sit in silence and prayerfully reflect on my family.  I reflect on my ancestors as far back as I can go, and when I do, I experience a deep sense of connectedness.  I experience a rich fullness. I delight in the stories of my adventurous great and grand fathers who left home and family to sail the high seas, or travel across the country in search of,,, what?  I’m amazed at the courage of my great and grand mothers who with children left their families and accompanied their husbands across oceans, fields and the Great Plains.  I am fascinated by the unknown circumstances that drew them on and dictated when they would arrive.  What kept them going in the face of overwhelming hardships?  I’m inspired by the rich diversity of religions, faith traditions and beliefs that color my story.  I’m in awe of the accomplishments, of the endless giving, and selflessness of friends, of family, and of significant strangers.  I embrace those whose lives were filled with pain, anger, tragedy and apparent failure. I’m filled with gratitude for this ever-expanding community of blessed and redeemed humanity, the community of saints.  And I’m equally grateful for the gift of the pain, suffering, and vulnerability they have shared and passed down via stories, diaries and letters.

We are created with an intrinsic emptiness, an unquenchable thirst, a driving hunger, a holy longing which only God can satisfy.  This ineffable holy longing speaks to my innermost being and draws me to God.  The path may be slippery, rocky and convoluted, but the attraction is more than of tidal proportion.  The path of my vocation, of my gospel story, like that of all who have gone before, is embedded in the holy yearning within.  It is the will of the Father that I, we, none of us be lost.  It is His Will that I have eternal life.  This holy longing, holy yearning for “Something” connects us and keeps us moving singly, in family and in community toward the source of our longing – God.

The Good News is that it is the desire of the Father that I, and that all souls, rest in the eternal peace of the Father in the community of All Souls.

Lord, help me to see

 

There is much symbolism connected with sight, and the encounter between Jesus and Bartimaeus (Mark 10:46-52) has so much to teach us. To state the obvious, Bartimaeus can’t help but know he’s physically blind.  But he has faith enough to see that Jesus can help him.  And what he is yearning for is to see.

When it comes to the commandment to love God and to love our neighbor, are we humble enough to recognize that we may be blind with respect to other persons or groups of people, or even to the rest of creation?  When I get in my car, I have enough sense and humility to know that I can have blind spots when I’m driving.  The car has a rearview mirror, and side mirrors, and in some of the newer cars, a system that has a light that blinks when there’s another vehicle coming up on one side of me or the other.  I also have the sense to follow the training I received in Driver’s Ed and look to the side and a little behind when I want to change lanes. But can I have enough humility to recognize that I may have a blind spot when it comes to certain people or groups of people?  And am I willing to ask God to let me see?

When we have trouble seeing others as God sees them: as those beloveds of God, there is blindness there.  It can be comfortable to stay in our blindness.  We may be more apt to jump to conclusions than to be like Bartimaeus and jump up to be healed of our blindness.

Does this mean we should turn a blind eye, so to speak, to evil and injustice?  No, we have an obligation to speak up for what is right and just.  We are to work for justice and peace and the common good as our way of helping build up the kingdom and following the commandment to love.  But does that have to involve being blind to the humanity of the “other?”  Does it mean we try to take God’s place in condemning others?  I think not.

Bartimaeus reminds us to ask for God’s grace to see clearly; to see others and all of creation as we are meant to see them.

Help and Certainty and the power of prayer

Every month for the last 20 years I was working I had to attend a “manager’s meeting.”  A key phrase the CEO made sure we heard and learned each month was “Our families are looking to us for help and certainty”. He was reminding us that we had to be confident in our ability to deliver on what we promised—clean, safe, well-maintained equipment and peripheral services at a cost our neighbors and loved ones could afford. And to convey that confidence to the families who were depending on us to help improve their lives.  

Those two words; “help” and “certainty” have been rattling around in my brain the last few days for a couple of reasons.  The first was a story I came across on the internet that I had never heard of before, and the second was Sunday’s Gospel reading at Mass.

At 3:00 am on January 15, 1978, notorious serial killer Ted Bundy entered the Chi Omega sorority house at Florida State University and murdered two girls before heading off to search for more victims. When he entered a third girl’s room with a bat for a weapon, he saw a rosary clutched in her hand, dropped the bat and fled.

Later the girl told authorities that before she left for college, she had promised her grandmother that she would pray the rosary every night for protection, even if she fell asleep in the process. This is what she had done that night, and she was still holding the rosary when the murderer entered her room. She refused to speak to anyone but a priest. 

A monsignor was summoned, and she recounted her promise to him. Bundy later confessed to over thirty murders.  Years later, as Bundy awaited execution on death row, he requested to speak to a priest. By a twist of fate, the same monsignor who had comforted the young woman visited Bundy. During their conversation, Bundy confessed his bewilderment about that night. He described how an unseen force had overpowered him, preventing him from committing another murder.

In Mark’s Gospel (Mark 4:35-41), Jesus is with His disciples in a boat.  A “violent squall” comes up, and the waves are crashing over the boat, filling it up. While this is going on, Jesus is asleep. The disciples, afraid for their lives, come to wake Jesus up, saying, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” Then Jesus says to the wind and the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then everything is calm. But Jesus is not done. He says to the disciples, “Why are you terrified? Do you not have faith?”

There have been times when I’ve felt the same as the disciples felt. We may be going through a crisis, or we may feel overwhelmed by what is going on in our world, and God doesn’t seem to be found. God hasn’t seen fit to intervene. And in our lament, we may ask, “God, don’t you care about what’s happening?”

One of the benefits of being closer to the end of my life rather than the beginning is that through many personal experiences, I believe that God does care, even though we may not feel anything.  For me, the miracle Jesus was trying to do was not so much calming the storm, but also calming the fears of His disciples. I can imagine Him saying, “Why are you terrified? Don’t you know I am with you?  Do you not have faith in me?”

Can we put our trust in Jesus, even when storms are raging, and chaos seems to reign?  It’s seldom easy to have that kind of trust. But we are called to trust in the love of God in Jesus Christ.  And in the midst of storms and chaos, we are called to share that love with others.

St. Paul, in his second letter to the Corinthians (2 Corinthians 5:14-17), writes: “The love of Christ impels us, once we have come to the conviction that one died for all.”  The word “impels” in this case means something like being in the grips of; being caught up in, something.  Maybe another way to put it is, “The love of Christ consumes us.”

If we can let the love of Christ overtake us, we can let go of fear, and not only fear, but despair and bitterness and prejudice and, on the other end of the spectrum, so to speak, greed and apathy and indifference. There are implications from this in regard to how we treat others. St. Paul writes, “Consequently, from now on we regard no one according to the flesh.” For me, that means we regard no one according to appearances or prejudice or conventional wisdom. Following the ways of the world, we’re tempted to either see others as enemies, or as things to be exploited for our benefit.  Jesus calls us to something different.  He calls us to see others as He sees them: as beloved of God.

May we let the love of Jesus for us calm our fears and impel us to love and serve each other and the world.

A solid mission statement/business plan

Any business consultant will advise having a mission behind a company, a vision for where you’re going, and strategies to help make that happen.  When you create that vision, mission, and strategic plan, you aren’t there yet.   But you believe with all your heart that it’s possible and you’re dedicated to acting in whatever ways you can to get there, keeping your eyes on the end result and adjusting what you do along the way as you work toward it.  A good mission statement should remind you of why your business exists and why it’s important to society.  I am a proud retiree of one of the most successful companies of the last eighty years…U-Haul.  U-Haul’s mission statement is actually a “Management Bulletin” that I often heard referred to as “the U-Haul Bible”, because it is that important to their success.   One of the objectives stated in the very first paragraph is “to improve human lives.”   That one single objective was the reason I was able to stay focused on providing the best customer service I could for over 25 years, despite the many aggravations and obstacles—sometimes self-imposed—that popped up during my career.  Every time I felt discouraged or tempted to quit, I would go back and read MB197 and be reminded that we existed to “improve human lives.”  

As I reflect on Jesus’ recitation of the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:1-12), it sounds like a business statement, but one that seems totally unrealistic in today’s world.  The meek are inheriting the land?  Those who hunger and thirst for righteousness are satisfied?  The merciful are shown mercy?  Peacemakers are called children of God?  And on it goes.  Sometimes people interpret the entirety of the beatitudes as referring to our “great reward” in heaven.  Yet didn’t Jesus tell us that the reign of God is among us right now (Matthew 4:17)?  Don’t we pray that God’s will be done on earth as it is in heaven (Matthew 6:5-15)?  So what’s the deal?

Just as with business, perhaps this is a case of “already but not yet”.  Jesus does indeed paint an ideal picture.  But it isn’t simply an explanation of what heaven will be like.  Instead, it’s our mission and vision statement, and we are to follow in the footsteps of Jesus, who dedicated His life to doing everything possible to enact it in this world.

So just as in business, we have to pause often and see how we’re doing.  In what ways do I fall short of God’s vision and mission for me and for this world?  When do I fail to notice and uphold the meek ones who can fade into the background otherwise?  When do I allow myself to become so disheartened and discouraged in my thirst for righteousness that I give up or sink into apathy?  When do I fail to show mercy to others?  In what ways do I feed divisions and animosity or cling to my own position instead of truly listening to another in a quest to find common ground, compromise, and go forward for the good of all?  And on it goes.

Make no mistake about it: This is a demanding vision, and it involves real costs.  For Jesus, it cost Him His life.  Our call is not to water it down or interpret it as merely God’s ultimate reward to us in heaven after we die.  Working individually and together as disciples of Christ, what steps can each of us take today or this week to bring God’s vision to fruition?  

We are an Easter people, full of hope!

Something I like to do, especially around Palm Sunday through Pentecost, is to read the accounts of the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Jesus in all four Gospels.  They are all exactly the same in the final message—the message of hope—but different details are emphasized by the different writers because they were speaking to different audiences.

After my brother Tom passed away, I found a couple of journals he was writing to help him (in his own words) improve the long-term and short-term memory loss he sustained because of the length of time he was under anesthesia during his transplant surgery.  To help cope with my sadness at losing my ‘little’ brother, I used his journals as the inspiration to write a short (80 pages!) book about the special relationship we had and the memories we shared.  I’ve mentioned the book in this blog before and excerpted parts of it, in particular the titular entry that Tom wrote with no title, but that I named “The Man in the Boat”.

When I was through writing the account, I passed out copies to all of our remaining siblings and asked them for their opinions.  Like the four different gospels, each of my brothers shared their memories of the same stories, but with different little details.  Of course, each brother was quick to point out that while my tribute to Tom was spot on, I was dead wrong on some of the smaller details.  I don’t think so.  I just remembered them differently.

In the resurrection account described by John, Mary only needed to hear Jesus call her by name and she recognized that He was standing in front of her (John 20:11-18).  How is Jesus calling out to us? The answer requires us to look beyond ourselves.

When I put myself into the sandals of Mary Magdalene, the woman at Jesus’ tomb in John’s Gospel, I can relate to how she feels.  I too have wept because I couldn’t find Jesus at various times in my life; after my brother Tom passed away, when I lost jobs, when I lost friends, when I got worried about all of the violence and hatred in the world.  At those times I would question, “Where are You, Jesus?”  To which He would often reply to me in my meditations, “Where are you, Steve?”   

While ‘we are an Easter people’ (Pope Saint John Paul II), we are also a post-Pentecost people, which means that Jesus is calling all of us to continue the ministry He began.  Only after we recognize His call to ministry are we able to see what Jesus has been doing right there in front of us.  We’re healed of our pain, misery and loneliness not by sitting on our couches and complaining, but by doing something with our pain that helps others heal. (This seems to be a secret that too few people know, but it should be a normal part of Christian living.)

In Matthew’s account (Matthew 28:1-10), the women were fearful until an angel said, “Don’t be afraid!” and Jesus repeated the message.  Fear keeps us from seeing Jesus and from realizing the plan of redemption that God’s trying to reveal to us.  Like He did for Jesus, the Father wants to redeem our crosses and destructions by transforming them into new lives that will reveal Jesus to others.

In Luke’s account (Luke 24:1-8), angels said to the women, “Why do you seek the living one among the dead?”   We fail to see Jesus whenever we focus on what’s going wrong.  Only when we stop clinging to our limited and self-centered perceptions can we notice that God is leading us into a victorious future.

Listen! Jesus is calling your name. Your resurrection has already begun!

It's impossible!

 

Every now and then, when reflecting on the Gospels, I try to put myself in the scene.  I like to think that I’m a pretty faithful person who believes in his heart, mind, and soul that Jesus is God. Even though I hear the story every year at this time, I still find myself not that much different from the “OG” followers.  I know intellectually and historically about the Resurrection, but there’s something that still surprises me.

On that “first day of the week” two thousand years ago, there was a lot of scurrying around and excitement and hearing reports of some amazing news that no one yet understood.  Even though Jesus had given them advance notice that He would rise again after being put to death, God’s plans took them by surprise.  They didn’t expect a resurrection. They didn’t understand that it was a necessary part of the Messiah’s mission. (John 20:1-9)

God’s plans often take us by surprise.  In so many situations of our lives, we don’t understand that hard times are going to produce wonderful victories.  We fail to realize that the empty tombs in our lives (the losses that we grieve) are beginnings of important new growth.  We can’t imagine how Jesus is going to redeem bad times into great blessings.

We suffer through the hardships, just trying to cope, waiting for an opportunity to finally walk away from our crosses.  Meanwhile, Jesus wants to give us an Easter morning because of the crosses.

Talk about rough!  How can we recognize the glory of God when we’re depressed?  How can we realize our own resurrections when we’re cursing our crosses?  It’s impossible!

To be the Easter people that we’re supposed to be, we have to learn how to see the hope of resurrection in the pain of the cross.  We have to trust that Jesus is always there, working a plan to redeem bad into good.  We have to allow ourselves to be surprised by God.

Christ is Risen!  He is risen, indeed!

Happy Easter!

Mary found favor with God...

 

There are several resources available online that inform us of the “Saint of the Day”.  These are short biographies of canonized (“sainted”) and beatified (“blessed”) men and women who are recognized by the Church to have lived their lives in ‘heroic virtue’, and whose lives we would do well to imitate.  These are called ‘Feast Days’.  Often when I feel down or caught in discouragement, I like to read the lives of the saints, because every one of them can be considered “God’s messengers.”

Sometimes the Feast days honor significant events in the life of Christ, His mother, or the Church.  For instance, today, March 25, is the Feast of the Annunciation, when the Archangel Gabriel announces to Mary, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.”  (Luke 1:26-38)  As I prayed with this gospel account today, I reflected on what it means to ‘find favor with God’.

The favor of God can be described as “tangible evidence that a person has the approval of the Lord.”  When we favor someone, we want to be with him or her.  We delight in him.  We connect with her in a way we don’t connect with everyone.  We usually favor people who also favor us.  In the same way, God shows favor to the ones who delight in, connect with, and give honor to Him.  Isaiah 66:2 says, “These are the ones I look on with favor: those who are humble and contrite in spirit, and who tremble at my word.”  Second Chronicles 16:9 says, “For the eyes of the LORD run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to show himself strong on behalf of them whose heart is perfect toward him.”  To be “perfect” toward Him means we seek His favor more than we seek the favor of anyone else, even ourselves.

Favor is closely related to grace in the Bible.  Those who have received Jesus as their Savior are saved by grace through faith (Ephesians 2:8–9).  They know the favor of God.  Without faith, it is impossible to please God (Hebrews 11:6), but those who have saving faith in God’s Son are declared righteous (Romans 4:5; Philippians 3:9) and live in God’s favor.  The most basic answer to “how can I get God’s favor” is “believe in the Lord Jesus.”

God seeks out those who love Him and love His commands so that He can bless, guide, and protect them (Psalm 37:23; Proverbs 3:5–6). This doesn’t mean that everyone who is prosperous or healthy has found favor with God (Jeremiah 12:1; Psalm 37:7; 73:16). Nor does it mean that those whom the Lord favors will never suffer difficulties. Many people in the Bible had the Lord’s favor but also suffered hardship (2 Corinthians 6:4; Acts 14:22; 20:23; 1 Peter 2:19).

Abel found favor with God, and his brother killed him (Genesis 4:9).

Abraham found favor with God, and was told by God to sacrifice his son (Genesis 22:2).

Hebrew children found favor with God, and wandered for 40 years in loneliness and thirst (Numbers 21:5).

Moses found favor with God, listened to the daily complaints of his people, and never saw the promised land  (Numbers 20:12).

David found favor with God, and suffered bitterly the death of his son (2 Samuel 19:1).

Job found favor with God, and lost fortune, family, wealth & health  (Job 1:13).

Elijah found favor with God, and waited under a juniper tree, pondering suicide (1 Kings:19).

Joseph found favor with God, and he was sold by his bothers into slavery  (Genesis 37:36).

Daniel found favor with God, and ended up in a lion’s den  (Daniel 6:10).

Jeremiah found favor with God, and felt the quiver of God’s arrows in his flesh (Jeremiah 5:16).

John the Baptist found favor with God, and he was violently decapitated  (Matthew 14:10).

Stephen found favor with God, and he was stoned (Acts 7:59).

Paul found favor with God, and was shipwrecked, starved and in prison (Acts).

Jesus found favor with God, and was beaten, spat upon, crucified.

Noah found favor with God, and was subjected to a great flood (Genesis 6:8).

Those who are favored of God know that God is with them and that nothing can happen to them apart from His good purpose (Romans 8:28).  They have His ear as they walk through dark valleys (Psalm 34:15) and know that their struggle to remain true to Him won’t go unrewarded (Matthew 10:42; Revelation 2:10).  In addition to outward evidence, God’s favor can be felt in the spirit.  When we have the favor of the Lord, we rest in quiet confidence that our sins are forgiven (Romans 4:7), we are within the plan of God (Psalm 86:11), and that He’s there for us at all times (Isaiah 41:10; Matthew 28:20).  We walk with God as with our closest friend.  We begin to see and appreciate the little blessings that God provides for our enjoyment—blessings that we once took for granted.

The Lord invites us to seek His favor (Psalm 119:58, 135; 2 Kings 13:4; Jeremiah 26:19; Zephaniah 2:3).  When we seek His favor, we humble our hearts before Him (2 Kings 22:19); seek Him for Himself, not just for the blessings He gives (Jeremiah 29:13); and arrange our lives around loving Him with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength (Mark 12:30; Luke 10:27).  We seek first His kingdom and righteousness (Matthew 6:33).

One way to obtain favor from the Lord is to seek wisdom.  Proverbs 8:35 says, “For those who find me [wisdom] find life and receive favor from the LORD.”  Psalm 5:12 says, “Surely, LORD, you bless the righteous; you surround them with your favor as with a shield.”  Finding favor with the Lord keeps our lives and thoughts pure because we desire to please Him more than we desire to please ourselves.  Hebrews 11:25 says of Moses, “He chose to be mistreated along with the people of God rather than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin.”  When the same can be said of us, we’ll know we’ve found favor with God.  His delight in us will be demonstrated.

Two choices: worry or trust God

 

The word righteous today commonly carries with it a negative connotation, because we often tacitly attach the word “self” to it.  The self-righteous person considers himself to be the measure of what is good and holy.  He’s the Pharisee who looks at the penitent tax collector and thinks he is blessed not to be like him.  Jesus tells us that such a man will not be justified. (Luke 18:9-14)

On this beautiful Solemnity of St. Joseph, the Church calls us to ponder the powerful witness of the foster father of Christ and spouse of Mary. He is a man we don’t know by his words but rather by his actions.  However, Scripture does supply us with one word to describe him…righteous.  This is a word that is also used by St. Paul to describe Abraham (Romans 4:13-22).

One who is truly righteous understands that only God can judge a person’s soul, even one’s own soul.  Thus, a righteous heart is also a humble and merciful heart.  Even the complete name of today’s Solemnity underscores this; “The Solemnity of St. Joseph, husband of Mary”.  Joseph appears to get “top billing”, but does he?   When righteous, one also acknowledges the right order of reality where God is the both the source of all things and our ultimate goal.  Jesus has promised that those who hunger and thirst for this understanding will be satisfied. (Matthew 5:6) Abraham’s righteousness was satisfied through many sons.  Joseph’s was satisfied through one, the Son of God.

In a couple of Gospel readings, we see Joseph growing in his ability to trust God. How difficult it must have been to believe Mary’s story!  So, since he didn’t trust her version of the story about her pregnancy, God sent him an angel in a dream (Matthew 1:16-24).

Now, Joseph had to trust that his dream wasn’t a product of his own imagination.  Wouldn’t it have been more convincing if the angel had appeared to him in person, the way Mary had been visited by an angel (Luke 1:26-38)?

And yet, something about the dream triggered Joseph’s faith.  He believed what he heard in his sleep.  I suspect, though, that a new doubt flooded him as soon as he believed the message of the dream.  He might have wondered: “Who am I to raise the Messiah! I can’t do this! I’m not worthy of this responsibility, and I will make mistakes!”

Maybe the questions lingered only a second, or maybe he had to get down on his knees and go deep into prayer before he could feel God’s assurance.  Either way, he chose to trust God, which gave him the freedom to feel assured that God would help him take care of Mary and the child.

Years later, when Jesus was twelve years old, Joseph’s trust was again stretched.  He lost the child for three days!  He had to choose repeatedly, moment by moment, to trust God no matter how long the boy was missing (Luke 2:41-51).  You and I have to trust God the same way.  We can either look at the evidence that says how bad things are — and live in worry — or we can look at God and remember that he cares with infinite love and is worthy of our trust.

David chose to trust that God would protect his throne forever (2 Samuel 7:4-16).  Paul reminds us that Abraham “hoped against hope” (which is the meaning of trust) that although he and his wife were well past their child-bearing years, he would become the father of a great nation as promised.

And Jesus had to trust that His death upon the cross — and all of its excruciating pain and the tortures before it — would lead to the glory of resurrection and the redemption of the world.

To journey through the cross to resurrection, to move from pain to glory, trust is necessary.  In each problem you face today — especially the long-standing ones — stop and think about the choice you have: You can worry and be afraid or you can trust God.  Ask St. Joseph to help you!

Trust God. Your resurrection glory has already been planned.

St. Joseph, pray for us.

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It occurs to me that today is the last of my meditations on The Highs and Lows and Ups and Downs of the Most Holy Rosary.  How fitting that the fifth and final Glorious mystery has us pondering Jesus’ mother, as she is crowned Queen of Heaven and Earth.

The Glorious Mysteries

V.  The Coronation of the Blessed Virgin Mary as Queen of Heaven and Earth

Brief meditation:

The Coronation of Mary as the Queen of All Creation is something to celebrate—a joyous event. Mary shows us that, through the grace of God, all things are possible.  Mary could rest on her accomplishment.  She could rejoice in the presence of God for the rest of eternity.  But she is our mother, and she understands God’s will for us. He doesn’t want any one of us to be left behind.  So, Mary like the perfect mother she is, accepts her position in heaven humbly, but immediately sets out once again to serve God in shepherding us to Him.  Like the Visitation, Mary comes to us to help us; to lead us to God through Christ.  She won’t rest as Queen of Creation until all of God’s children are with Him in heaven.

Scriptural meditations:

1.  Who is this that comes forth like the dawn, as beautiful as the moon, as resplendent as the sun?  (Song of Solomon 6:10)- Hail Mary…

2.  Like the rainbow appearing in the cloudy sky; like the blossoms on the branches in springtime. (Sirach 50:8-9)- Hail Mary…

3.  I am the mother of fair love, and of fear, and of knowledge, and of holy hope. (Sirach 24:24)- Hail Mary…

4.  In me is all grace of the way and of truth, in me is all hope of life and of virtue. (Sirach 24:25)- Hail Mary…

5.  Come to me, all you that yearn for me, and be filled with my fruits.  (Sirach 24:26)- Hail Mary…

6.  You will remember me as sweeter than honey, better to have than the honeycomb. (Sirach 24:27)- Hail Mary…

7.  So now, children, listen to me; instruction and wisdom do not reject!  (Proverbs 8:32-33)- Hail Mary…

8.  Happy are those who keep my ways, watching daily at my gates.  (Proverbs 8:33-34)- Hail Mary…

9.  For he who finds me.....wins favor from the Lord.  (Proverbs 8:35)- Hail Mary…

10.  Hail, O Queen of Mercy, protect us from the enemy, and receive us at the hour of death. (Queenship of the B.V.M., Gradual)- Glory Be…