A Fresh Beginning

 

In most years by the time we get to Advent, we’re ready to leave the “ordinary” time of the year and embrace Advent with all of its promises.  But 2020 has been especially challenging for so many – illness and death, isolation, financial concerns, and the list could go on.  Many of us long for peace and serenity, for a sense of security and order, for something predictable.  The prophecies from Isaiah foretelling the rise of a new Davidic king should give us much hope and optimism (Isaiah 11:1-10).  This year the promise of Advent and everything new is more important than ever.  As I wrote about what we long for, I realized that’s exactly what we are promised – predictability – of a Child who will redeem us.  Isaiah creates a picture of peace and serenity –animals who live as enemies in nature are now able to co-exist in peace without threat to each other: “Then the wolf shall be a guest of the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; The calf and the young lion shall browse together, with a little child to guide them.”  (Isaiah 11:6).  Our chaotic world offers pitifully little of this these days.  How can we learn from these animals to look beyond our comfort zones and allow that little child to guide us?

Advent reminds us of a fresh beginning – an opportunity to welcome the new and out with the old.  All the feelings of being worn out from this horrendous year and wondering when isolation will come to an end fade when we realize that the very symbol of hope and everything good is coming.  The beginning of the Church year gives us a chance to begin anew and not only leave 2020 behind but also all the stress and uncertainty.  It reminds us that this earth and all of its challenges are just transitory – this is not our forever.  The journey here is not the final goal.  Sometimes, we let this fragile life direct our thoughts and attitude and drag us into unimportant details.  We forget to look at the bigger picture and the eternal life that should be our priority.

The season of Advent is just what this world needs right now to raise our spirits and direct us to the indisputably important aspects of life and preparation for our eternal life.  Advent reminds us to open our hearts as we anticipate and prepare for our greatest Gift.  It’s our Faith and hope of what’s to come that will support us and allow us to see beyond our troubles and this chaos called life.  Most importantly, Advent reveals what Jesus says to the disciples: “Blessed are the eyes that see what you see.  For I say to you, many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, but did not see it, and to hear what you hear, but did not hear it.”  (Luke 10:21-24)

Just put one foot in front of the other

 

It’s funny, the way that a few Scripture passages can lead us on a reflection about the most ordinary, yet profound things.  For example, our feet.  They enable us to stand and not fall over.  They make it possible for us to dance, play football, or kick the can.

There are footmen, foot soldiers, and footnotes.  Some people stand in the footlights, get a foothold, or are just footloose.  Sometimes we put our best foot forward, put our foot in our mouth, foot the bill, or live in the foothills.

They’re amazing things, our feet. The most amazing thing about our feet, whether they’re small or big, dainty, or calloused, is that they can be the feet of Christ.

Saint Teresa of Avila said it well when she said, “Christ has no body but yours.  Yours are the feet with which He walks to do good, yours are the hands with which He blesses all the world.”

In his letter to the Romans (Romans 10:9-18), Saint Paul quotes the prophet, Isaiah, “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good tidings.” (Isaiah 52:7).   Paul is proclaiming how beautiful are the feet of those who decide to follow the Lord. 

In Matthew’s gospel Jesus was simply “walking by the Sea of Galilee” and saw two brothers working hard at their occupation (Matthew 4:18-22).  Jesus called them, and Peter and Andrew decided to follow Him.  Their feet took to them into Jesus’ company where they walked with Him, talked with Him, and watched Him preach the Gospel.  Isaiah’s statement would certainly identify Jesus’ feet as beautiful.  Eventually Peter and Andrew would be sent out to preach the gospel, making their feet become beautiful, too.

When we make any kind of decision, our feet are usually involved.  We decide to get out of bed in the morning and our feet hit the floor.  When we decide to go to somewhere, our feet have to take us there. 

When we choose to walk the way of truth, justice and peace, our feet are beautiful.  When we decide to walk with refugees, the poor, hungry or abandoned, our feet are beautiful.  When we decide to walk beside a person who just needs a listening ear, our feet are beautiful. 

Each day the Lord calls us to follow Him more closely.  Let’s just say, “Yes,” and put our best foot forward.  We can’t go wrong.

Hope and expectation

God, the Divine Potter, has created us as unique masterpieces (Isaiah 63:16-19; 64:2–7).  We’re the work of His hands throughout our lives.  Through God’s gentle hands, most commonly by placing others in our lives to teach and guide us, He molds and shapes us into the person that we’re supposed to become.

On November 29, 1953 (2 weeks after I was born), I was baptized.  Like today, it was the first Sunday of Advent.  On this date every year, I reflect a little on the supernatural graces that are bestowed through Baptism.  There are six that I can think of off-hand!

The first among them is the removal of the guilt of both Original Sin (the sin imparted to all mankind by the Fall of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden) and personal sin (the sins that we’ve committed ourselves).  If only we could remain this way!

Second, the remission of all punishment that we owe because of sin, both temporal (in this world and in Purgatory) and eternal (the punishment that we would suffer in hell). 

Third, the infusion of grace in the form of sanctifying grace (“the life of God within us”); the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit (wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude (or courage), knowledge, piety, and fear of the Lord) and the three theological virtues of faith, hope, and charity (or love).

Fourth, we become a part of Christ.

Fifth, we become a part of the Church, which is the Mystical Body of Christ on earth.

And lastly, it enables us to participate in all of the other six sacraments, the priesthood of all believers, and the growth in grace.

Through our baptism we receive the graces we need to be able to ask, “What does my neighbor (mother, father, spouse, son, daughter, friend, co-worker, stranger) need from me today?” and “How can I accommodate that need?” Our “job” as baptized Christians is to become the face of Christ to others.

I thank God for giving me the Spirit of Christ in baptism and I ask God to help me be open to the Spirit so I might truly be Christ’s presence for others.

So, as we begin a new Church year today, with the coming of the First Sunday of Advent, we await with hope and expectation the coming of the Lord within us in a new way.  The experiences of the past year have molded and shaped us into the person we are today.  We’re not the same as we were last year at this time.  Many have lost loved ones and jobs.  Some have experienced more stress than usual whether it be at work or at home.  So much of the manner in which we’re used to living and working has changed over the past ten months due to the pandemic.  We’re ready for something to be different.  We wait in hope and expectation that there’s a vaccine soon.  We wait in hope and expectation that the numbers will be lower so that we can do some of the things we enjoy.  We wait in hope and expectation that as we begin the new year, we can continue to be clay.  To be molded by God into the person that we were created to be with expectation that God will fill us with faith, hope, and love as we move forward towards the coming of Jesus Christ in our hearts once more. 

The "new normal". A "change of seasons"?

 

It seems that generally this time of year there’s much more focus on the amount of dollars and effort spent on Black Friday shopping rather than how we can be preparing our hearts for the season of Advent.  Jesus warns to not let our hearts become drowsy (Luke 21:34-36).  The sources of anxiety are plentiful as we collectively worry about health, finances, identity, safety, and quality of life.  While these worries are very real and important, they distract us from trusting in God.

The Gospel reminds us of how easy it is to become lazy in our life of faith.  It reminds us that our hearts can become drowsy from “carousing and drunkenness and the anxieties of daily life.”  During my reflection, I broke both of these causes down.

First, we’re warned against carousing and drunkenness.  This certainly applies on a literal level, meaning, we should obviously avoid abusing drugs and alcohol.  But it also applies to numerous other ways that we’re made “drowsy” through a lack of temperance.  Abuse of alcohol is only one way of escaping from the burdens of life, but there are many ways we can do this.  Any time we give in to an excess of one sort or another, we begin to let our hearts become drowsy on a spiritual level.  Whenever we seek momentary escapes from life without turning to God, we allow ourselves to become spiritually drowsy. 

Second, “the anxieties of daily life” is identified as a source of becoming drowsy.  So often we do face anxiety in life.  We can feel overwhelmed and overly burdened by one thing or another.  When we feel burdened by life, we tend to look for a way out.  And far too often, the “way out” is something that makes us spiritually drowsy. 

As I prayed with and reflected on Luke’s Gospel today, I felt a sense of calm come over me.  Although I’ve allowed myself to be distracted by the anxieties of daily life, I’m invited by Jesus to shift my attention away from anxious thoughts and feelings.  This is the time to create a new normal.  The COVID pandemic has provided an opportunity to appreciate what’s important in life, how we can connect with one another in more meaningful ways and what attractions, habits, and behaviors we should turn away from.

The year 2020 has been a year with events that few of us have experienced in our lifetimes.  This reminder from Jesus to be vigilant at all times helps frame my hopes for Advent and for the future.  I pray that we may all stay centered through prayer.  I ask for God to help us quiet our minds when our thoughts are swirling with daily frustrations and worries.  I pray that everyone will look for simple ways to be present to others.  Embracing a quiet, peaceful, prayerful Advent will be a wonderful new normal—a “change of seasons” (Ecclesiastes 3)

A call to vigilance

The beautiful Gospel I reflected on today is the parable of the fig tree (Luke 21:23-29).  Even though winter has not “officially” begun yet, our world is in desperate need of the buds of spring.  We yearn for that second chance for the opportunity to bear fruit when we falter.  We need the words of Jesus in St. Luke’s Gospel to remind us that His ageless values, the Heavenly vision of beautiful budding trees and butterflies and whatever else is in the vision of your Heavenly garden, emanate from one loving and gracious God.

As we enter into the end of our church year and the beginning of Advent, we’re reminded that we should want and we do need to belong to the kingdom that Jesus has prepared for us, and to dedicate our lives in preparation of being in His presence.  Are we able to see, through the eyes of God, what is truly valuable in today’s world and what is fleeting?

The word of God will never pass away!  We need to be ready and waiting, in joyful anticipation, for the coming of our precious Lord!

A day set apart for Thanksgiving

Today is a day we set aside to take a good look around us and be thankful.  We probably should make every day Thanksgiving Day, but still it’s good to set this day apart to be more consciously thankful.

For many of us who no longer live close to the land or measure time by when we plant and harvest, Thanksgiving has all but been removed from its agricultural roots.  Kids in school retell the stories of early European settlers surviving difficult times.  Images of the bountiful harvest certainly convey the beauty and richness of the earth.  But more important, a plentiful harvest meant the community could survive the harsh winter ahead.  They would have enough to eat and not starve.

Our context may not be the plentiful harvest, but we can certainly say on this day that it’s been a long, hard journey through this Covid-19 pandemic.   And yet through it all, we’re here.  We’re going to make it, even as we mourn hundreds of thousands of lost lives.  Even as we experience how we claw at each other and demonize one another and listen to all sorts of false prophets, we have hope that we’ll come through this.  Maybe we can be more grateful for one another instead of critical.

We’ve been given so much and have learned so much in these challenging times.  How can we not be grateful?  Setting aside today as a Day of Thanksgiving is good, even if with fewer family members around the table but no less thankful.  Consider praying Psalm 100, either with those gathered in your home or quietly by yourself.  God is good, and faithful to all generations.

As we move closer to Advent we turn our eyes to the last and glorious things to come.  Specifically, the glorious return of Jesus “coming in a cloud with power and great glory.”  (Luke 21:20-28).  What’s most interesting and helpful in this particular Gospel is the call we’re given to enter into His glorious return with our heads raised with much hope and confidence.  

This is an important image to ponder.  Try to imagine Jesus returning in all His splendor and glory.  Try to imagine Him coming in the most awe-inspiring and magnificent of ways.  The entire sky would be transformed as the angels of Heaven surround our Lord.  All earthly powers would suddenly be taken over by Jesus.  Every eye would be turned to Christ and everyone, whether they want to or not, would bow down before the glorious presence of the King of all Kings!

This reality will take place.  It’s just a matter of time.  Jesus will, indeed, return and all will be made new.  The question is this:  Will we be ready?  Will this day take us by surprise?  If it were to happen today, what would our reaction be?  Would we be fearful and suddenly realize we should have repented of certain sins?  Would we immediately have certain regrets as we realize it’s now too late to change our life in the way our Lord desires?  Or will we be one of those who stands erect with our head raised as we joyfully and confidently rejoice in the glorious return of our Lord?

The grace of our faith

 In light of the tumult, uncertainty and suffering in the world and our lives today, we might feel not so far removed from John who sees in heaven “seven angels with the seven last plagues.”  (Revelation 15:1-4)

We’re in the midst of Covid, with deaths rising once again. Our country feels more divided than ever. Inequalities in housing, wealth, healthcare, and employment are in sharp relief. We see the disastrous results of climate change daily, most recently the devastation of Hurricane Iota leaving tens of thousands homeless in Central America.

Yet we’re called to sing of God’s “great and wonderful” works, to trust in God’s “wondrous deeds,” to join the mountains in shouting for joy.  (Psalm 98)

This is the grace of our faith, knowing that simultaneously with the tumult exists God’s victory, timeless and ever-present.  And we are necessary co-creators. Every time we take a step in solidarity with the crucified today–whether they be migrants, Covid patients, those in homeless shelters and prisons, or victims of racial injustice–we live into God’s wondrous works.

Jesus tells us, “By your perseverance you will secure your lives.”  (Luke 21:12-19).  May we together persevere in co-creating a new song, joyfully singing into being the Kingdom, where God “will rule the world with justice and the peoples with equity.” (Psalm 98:9)

Hope for the journey

 

Holidays have the tendency to lose their connectedness to their origins.  I suppose it’s inevitable.  None of us were there at the first Christmas, Easter, or to a much less profound degree, Thanksgiving, to really understand the profound moment it was.  Even the very word "holiday" is rarely connected to its origin, "holy day."

We feel called to mark special experiences with a moment of pause and reflection.  Anniversaries recognize the faithful endurance of highs and lows in a relationship.  Civic holidays mark moments of national achievement, like our Independence Day on July 4.  And our religious holy days remind us that the journey we travel now is possible only through the light and grace of God.

It’s the journey that gives meaning to the holiday.  And that journey, as we hear in the Gospels (Luke 21:12-19), is not always easy.  If the journey were easy, there’d be no need to celebrate holidays. Disappointments and failures, hardships, hurt and sadness – even betrayal, as Jesus says – are woven into the story of our lives.  In a couple of days we celebrate Thanksgiving, which traditionally marks the bringing in of the harvest after months of punishing toil on the raw, tough and at times unforgiving land.  The harvest was not only a celebration of a successful growing season but the promise of making it through a long, cold winter ahead.  It only became a national holiday when President Lincoln called the nation to a moment of prayer and thanksgiving in 1863 in the middle of the long, grueling experience of the Civil War.  2020 has given many of us a fresh meaning to the holiday, as our national struggles this year are just as extreme as they were in 1863, even if we weren’t also dealing with a pandemic!

Jesus doesn’t promise a road easily travelled.  He promises that He will be our companion along the way.  He’s not going to take away the hardships or hurt or sadness, but He will accompany us through these to new life.  He can guide us and encourage us, urging us not to give up.  And in the end, like the Pilgrims 400 years ago or a young married couple celebrating a first anniversary, we can sit together in awe and say to one another, "I don’t know how we did it, but here we are.  Thanks be to God!"

And He noticed

When Jesus looked up he saw some wealthy people putting their offerings into the treasury and he noticed a poor widow putting in two small coins.  He said, “I tell you truly, this poor widow put in more than all the rest; for those others have all made offerings from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has offered her whole livelihood.” (Luke 21:1-4)

I’ve listened to many homilies and sermons on this passage from Luke’s gospel.  Most of them end up with the moral of the story “give till it hurts!”  I agree that we need to give from the heart.  We should give in a way that demonstrates true generosity, especially when we’re giving to those less fortunate or for a deserving cause.  Yet today I feel myself drawn to another phrase Luke includes in his story of Jesus and the “widow’s mite.”

“And he noticed.”  I have to think Jesus was the exception in this story.  The other people were probably preoccupied with how much they were giving, and the disciples were probably wondering what Jesus might do or say next.  How often do we in our world of iPhones, consumer obsessions and political mayhem notice and acknowledge a simple act of kindness, generosity, or compassion?

St. Paul tells us to give "not with sadness, nor necessity for God loves a cheerful giver." (2 Corinthians 9:7) Indeed, "God loves a cheerful giver."   True joy only comes through a life of giving.   Joy is the sign of the presence of God.   Godlike cheerfulness comes to us when the needs of another become as important to us as our own.

When we give it shouldn’t be forced on us by the government or by public pressure to make us look good, but with a joyful heart.   We should be happy to give because it makes us like Jesus "who loved us and gave himself up for us” (Ephesians 5:2).  Besides, by being generous to others, we’ll be richly rewarded.   “Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you." (Matthew 6:38)

My thought for today is that Jesus “noticed.”  Let’s pray for the grace to live in the present moment and to acknowledge compassion when we see it.  Let’s wrap our arms around the next compassionate moment like it’s the center of the universe.  Let’s be what we aspire to be, the Kingdom of God on earth! 

Jesus Christ, King of the Universe

 

When we say Jesus is the King of the Universe, we mean a few things.  First, He’s our Shepherd.  As our Shepherd He desires to lead us personally as a loving father would.  He wants to enter our lives personally, intimately, and carefully, never imposing Himself but always offering Himself as our guide.  The difficulty with this is that it’s all too easy for us to reject this kind of kingship.  As King, Jesus desires to lead every aspect of our lives and lead us in all things.  He desires to become the absolute ruler and monarch of our souls.  He wants us to come to Him for everything and to become dependent upon Him always.  But He won’t impose this sort of kingship upon us.  We must accept it freely and without reservation.  Jesus will only govern our lives if we freely surrender ourselves over.  When that happens, though, His Kingdom begins to become established within us!  And through us in the world.

Additionally, Jesus does wish for His Kingdom to begin to be established in our world.  First and foremost this takes place when we become His sheep and thus become His instruments to help convert the world. However, as King, He also calls us to establish His Kingship by seeing to it that His truth and law is respected within civil society.  It’s Christ’s authority as King that gives us the authority and duty as Christians to do all we can to fight civil injustices and bring about a respect for every human person.  All civil law ultimately gains its authority from Christ alone since He’s the one and only Universal King.

“I was hungry and you gave me to eat.

I was thirsty you gave me drink…”  (Matthew 25:31-46)

At this moment in time, everyone is suffering.   In historic numbers worldwide, layoffs continue for those least able to stay afloat financially, breeding anxiety, domestic violence, and suicidal behaviors.  Even two-career families blessed with jobs working from home, are still struggling, trying to care for and educate their children.   With many schools still offered only virtually, there’s the attendant loss of free breakfasts and lunch which were the only guaranteed daily nutrition for many young families.  This has led to dramatically heightened incidents of childhood psychological and physical illnesses in just the past several months of the pandemic. 

The elderly among us and those who are prone to chronic illnesses are severely at risk from the virus and in protecting themselves, or being protected by others, must be isolated more than ever before.  Programs and charities to attend to them are stretched beyond their capabilities or even the vision planning for that assistance which occurred in normal times without envisioning the need for the scope of a whole wide, or community wide need for food and companionship.  Meals on Wheels, which typically delivers 200 million meals a year to American seniors, finds itself overwhelmed not only by the surge of need but also by seventy-five percent decline of corporate volunteers as businesses shut down or reduced employee hours.  Many of the average volunteers are over age sixty-five themselves.  They must think first of themselves and their immediate family, leading to an immense drain on the source of help from those wonderful, giving people. 

All these are hungry for sustenance and human comfort, are thirsty for knowledge and guidance, are alone, depressed and have lost hope.  I can’t deny that I have seen them, know them, or know of them.  “What you did not do for the least of these, you did not do for Me”. 

If today you hear His voice, do not harden your hearts.  (Hebrews 3:15)    

Is this all there is?

In the Gospel I reflected on today, Jesus debated with some Sadducees who denied that there’s a resurrection (Luke 20:27-40).  After refuting their hypothetical situation of a woman marrying seven brothers, Jesus pointed to the encounter between Moses and God at the burning bush (Exodus 3).  He reminded them that God identified Himself as the "God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob," and therefore "he is not God of the dead, but of the living, for to him all are alive."

Toward the end of the Sixties, Peggy Lee recorded the hit song, “Is that all there is?”  

In these days of COVID and political unrest and hatred some of us may be challenged by the same question; “Is this all there is”?   We’ve hoped for something better and it didn’t happen.  We want a brighter future, and we can’t see it.  We long for a life without pain or suffering, but instead we find a life that includes hurts and disappointment.  We ask, “Is this all there is?”

The fact that’s extremely important for us to remember is that to God, "all are alive."  Much too often, people can see each other not in terms of life, but of death.  It’s all too apparent in our world today how individuals or groups of people can be full of hatred toward others.  They want to see the other group dead!  At other times, it’s not so much a matter of open hostility than it is complete indifference.  Here, the fate of the person is of no consequence to the other.

How do we respond to these attitudes of death, or what Saint Pope John Paul II called “the culture of death”?   We need to develop the same attitude that Jesus attributes to God: we must be able to see all as alive.  We can’t seek to condemn others to death, and we can’t be indifferent to the plight of others.  We’re called to share life!  We’re called to share the hope we have in Jesus Christ!  We need to witness to our trust in God who doesn’t give up on life and doesn’t give up on us! 

Sweet 'n Sour

 

“You must once again prophesy for many peoples, nations, languages, and rulers.” (Revelation 10:11)

We’re still going through another seemingly endless presidential election season.  Whether on the national or on a local level, much rhetoric has been and is still being bandied about, supporting this or that candidate, cause, or issue.  Whether it’s a national or local figure, or any citizen, most people are speaking with passion regarding her or his stance.  To what extent are those words spoken with the authority of a prophet?  With experience as a foundation?  Is it about righting a wrong, like promoting the cause of the marginalized and seeking justice, or is it self-serving; seeking to have power over others, and to gain more for “our” side?

In the Book of Revelation, John eats the scroll with God’s word.  It tastes wonderful, but later it turns his stomach (Revelation 10:8-11).  How often have we learned through experience and/or heard something, even said it aloud, and then discovered that there’s a churning within us?  What’s going on?  Why do we feel almost ill?  Perhaps it was because we haven’t fully digested what we heard/learned before we spoke it.

Or maybe we did spend time inviting our God into our reflection, and we’re aware that NOW it’s time to speak up.  However, in the speaking, the tumult increases.  And we wonder what it is, that’s upsetting us.

Jesus spoke words in the temple that we can be sure caused some indigestion (Luke 19:45-48).  As He commanded the moneychangers out of the temple, and called it a "den of thieves," He knew that this wouldn’t exactly be popular.  But He was willing to do it; and He was full of emotion.  I’ll bet the adrenaline was rushing (even “just anger” may have an impact on our bodies, our psyches).  And He had reason to perhaps have an upset stomach; the scribes and pharisees were eager to destroy Him.  However, at this point in time, the populace was listening to Jesus, and "hanging on his every word."

In these months and years following our elections will we simply gloat or bemoan the present results of the election?  Regardless of whether our candidates, and/or our issues, and/or our concerns "won" or "lost," how will we live and speak - NOT giving up on our principles, yet willing to work with others for change?

Will our words (and deeds) taste like honey in our mouth, but cause us indigestion?  Will we be able to work and speak in ways that build bridges with those whom we don’t see “eye to eye”?  Where do we reconcile?  And where do we push forward with our message, hoping to "prophesy"; to continue to raise the social consciousness, regardless of who or what has been voted in by the people?

How will our words and deeds reflect God’s presence in our lives, and how will we prophesy for many peoples, nations, languages, and rulers?

Bless those who weep

 

As Jesus drew near Jerusalem, he saw the city and wept over it. (Luke 19:41)

Jesus wept. (John 11:35)

Tears, like smiles, are truly a window into our inner self, brought about the high and low points of life, by those looks of love or those stares of hate.

In the Gospel (Luke 19:41-44), Jesus wept bitter tears over a city that He dearly loved.  Jesus wasn’t unaccustomed to weeping, weeping as an individual or weeping with people He loved and who seemed inconsolable.  In the four Gospels, there are 26 references to weeping: fathers weeping for ailing daughters, widow mothers burying their only sons, a sinful woman weeping at the foot of Jesus and a contrite Peter weeping bitterly for denying Jesus with curses.  Jesus blesses those who weep, for they will be consoled (Luke 6:21).  Jesus comforts the weeping Martha and Mary by raising their brother Lazarus to life (John 11:1–44).  And Jesus turns Mary Magdalene’s tears into joy as He meets her at the empty tomb, as the Risen Jesus (John 20:11-18).  Tears are part of the Gospel accounts and tears are also part of our own lives and our human condition. If we haven’t wept, it may be because we’ve deliberately denied our human reality and our human condition.

I used to cry every week while watching “Extreme Makeover—Home Edition” on TV.  I cried at the tragic events that befell the families.  It was a deep, profound sorrow that reached down to the depths of my heart.  I felt as though their troubles were my own.  I don’t know these people personally, but my grief for them was as sincere as if they were my own family.  And at the end of each show, I cried with tears of real joy as they (often) praised God for the intervention of the designers and builders as they were put back on a path of fruitful existence.

For me, this Gospel invites me to think about the reasons we weep.  Do we cry for ourselves, the wrongs that we’ve suffered and the failures we’ve endured?  Or do we cry for those who have been crushed by life and injustice, by unavoidable tragedies by being in the wrong place at the wrong time?  Do other people’s tears lead us to compassion?  Do they move us to cry with them, to identify with their pain and their suffering, and do we take the time to console them as Jesus did to those women who were weeping for Him as He made his way to Calvary and His death on the Cross?

When Jesus came upon the city of Jerusalem, He wept.  He wept because He’d done all He could to bring them to His loving Father, with the Spirit of Love everlasting, and felt completely rejected, willfully rebuffed by the religious leaders, the elders of the people, the learned and the wise.  Oh, how He wished that they would embrace him as the Son of God!  Nevertheless, He didn’t abandon His beloved city.  He embraced the Hour before Him, the Cross of Crucifixion, and the Resurrection from the Dead, so great is His Love for us!

No matter how many times Jesus has wept for us, His Love is Everlasting!

A sound investment

 

“Invest this until I get back.”

So much of who we are and what we’re called to do is contained in this brief line in the parable of the talents (Luke 19:11-28).  We all are called and gifted.  All that we have – all that we are – we have as “gift,” given to us for a uniquely special purpose.

The contrast Jesus uses is amazingly contemporary and is insightfully helpful for our everyday lives.  Jesus doesn’t want us to take what we’ve been given and simply preserve it – to protect the gifts, out of some fear, in a risk-free way.  Jesus wants us to “invest” our gifts – to take some risks, in order to grow the value of His investment in us.

In many ways, the message of Jesus is very counter-cultural.  We resist, even though we know the truth of what Jesus says, from so many examples in life; muscles grow when we use them, and they atrophy when we don’t use them.  In our self-absorption culture, we’re often discouraged from taking personal risks.  We’re often told – in hundreds of direct and subliminal ways – that we should always choose what will keep us “healthy.”  Personal sacrifice, even for a greater good, isn’t always seen as good for me and is therefore to be avoided.  Being “stretched,” denying myself, serving the needs of others before my own, suffering greatly to stay faithful to a commitment, giving myself away in love, are all viewed with suspicion in a culture adverse to self-risk.

Jesus frees us.  The One Who has given us the gifts we have will give us even more.  However, even in the spiritual life, the “rate of return” is directly related to “the amount of risk” we take.  Jesus stimulates our desires with this parable, stirring in us a confident desire to make better use of the gifts He’s given us, by risking more and more to invest them for a higher rate of return.

Each of us today can go through our day, asking if we’re being “overly cautious” with the gifts that have been given us.  We can ask how much energy we’re expending on avoiding risk, and how “tired” we are, from protecting ourselves.  Or, we can imagine ways to take a gift we have and use it to love more, listen more deeply, do something more self-sacrificing, offer forgiveness, and/or spend some time for others we’d otherwise use on ourselves.  And, at the end of the day, feeling some of the fatigue that comes from being stretched, we can look at the summary of our investments for the day, and give thanks.

So, as we go about our daily chores and our daily activities, we need to think about how we can use the gift of cooking, or cleaning, or writing, or listening, or whatever we may be blessed with and to consider carefully how we might best offer it back to God through loving our neighbor.

Each of us must become an “MVP”—that is, a person who Meditates on the Word of God and puts it into action, one who is Vigilant in matters of faith and finally one who Prays without ceasing.

Don't be afraid to open the door

 

I like to say that I am a “practicing” Catholic.  To be a Christian is to be a work in progress.  In one sense, of course, we’re loved exactly as we are; we don’t have to be perfect in order to be cherished by God.

But that doesn’t mean we have a "pass" to be complacent of heart or self-satisfied in the ease of our own lives.  We’re continually being called to renew ourselves in the Holy Spirit, to reach out where there is suffering, to be humbled by the goodness of God.  It must have been difficult in the early Church, just as it is in today’s environment, to keep the spiritual fires burning as the actual event of Jesus’ presence on earth receded farther into the past.  Clearly the members of the Church in Sardis and Laodicea had either strayed into sinfulness or were content to merely look like they were doing all the right spiritual things (Revelation 3:1-22).  But the reality was that something was going terribly wrong.  Not unlike the Pharisees of an earlier day, perhaps, they had drifted from the heart of their spiritual call and were at risk of becoming dead inside.

And then there’s the almost comical picture of Zacchaeus bounding up into the tree to see the face of Jesus, giving away his riches to the poor, joyfully welcoming Jesus into his home (Luke 19:1-10).  He’s the essence of generosity itself; and we see the promise of salvation given to the "sinner”, the one who is not perfect but who’s changing toward the good because he’s met the Savior and allowed the Holy Spirit to breathe new life into him.

“Today salvation has come to this house.”  Those words from Luke’s gospel could very well be the most important we’ll ever hear.  But when Jesus comes to our house, how will we respond?  Will we eagerly and joyfully welcome him in or are we afraid to even open the door?

A divine moment of grace

I can think of so many times in my own life when I’ve wandered about, metaphorically blind.  I couldn’t—or didn’t—want to see what was right in front of me.  I wanted to fix a problem myself, ignore an important issue, or blame others for causing a situation that was affecting me.  I was truly without sight.

I am reminded of this after reading the beautiful passage in the Gospel of Luke today about a man without sight who cried out in the darkness to Jesus for healing.  His call was heard, and he was healed (Luke 18:35-43).

He had only to ask Jesus for healing and it was given.  In one sense, sometimes the exact thing we ask God for doesn’t seem to appear as obviously as the blind man’s sight was restored.  And yet if we only surrender to God and to His loving goodness then healing is possible – the healing that only God knows is ours to receive.

But the humble cry for mercy is really a divine moment of grace in which we acknowledge that we can’t restore sight, or insight, to ourselves; we can’t right the wrong, modify the course of events, change other people on our own.  In our own human woundedness, we just need pity from our loving God.

It’s often in the most difficult and cluttered situations that we can sense the presence of God.  We have to stand our ground and cry out, “Son of David” have pity on me” when we’re told to be quiet, God has more important things to worry about; that there are others who are more deserving of the “pity and compassion” of God.  The gospel assures us our cries and needs are heard by a listening God.  We just have to have courage, faith, and persistence.

It’s striking that what the man with blindness asked for was not eyesight.  He asked for mercy.  He asked for compassion and then asked to be healed.  Perhaps we can be humble enough to cry out, "Lord, help me."  Then, like the one leper in ten that Jesus healed earlier in the Gospel (Luke 17:11-19), we mustn’t forget to return to our Lord in thanksgiving. 

The focus for all our tomorrows

 

From time to time, each of us encounters our human limitations.  As I age, I become frustrated at what sometimes takes me twice the time or longer to accomplish half of what I might have done as a younger person.  I remember one time when I went to work at 5AM on my day off (my day usually started at 7AM) with one task in mind—to clean some storage rooms that one of the General Managers had been having trouble getting done due to personnel budgetary concerns, and had asked me to help.  There were 13 rooms to clean and in my prime I could clean a room and get it ‘customer ready’ in about 20 minutes—tops!  That would let me get done by nine o’clock in the morning, and I would have the rest of the day at home.

Things didn’t go as planned! In fact, several times I thought about giving up my efforts—it was my day off, after all.  First, my body wasn’t used to physical labor at the earlier hour and it told me so by giving me a terrific headache accompanied by sore muscles before the first hour was up.  Second, it was the wintertime, and therefore too cold and dark at 5AM to be effective at a chore that required that I work by daylight.  Third, a long-time customer had recently moved out of one of the larger units after 8 years, so it needed a lot more work than I anticipated.  It took me seven hours to clean that one unit, so I went to lunch at noon feeling pretty frustrated.  

After lunch I apologized to the manager for not accomplishing as much as I set out to do.  His reaction was great though, and very understanding.  He said he appreciated my offer of helping on my day off, and that getting that one room “out of his hair” was a huge help!  He used the expression, “Thank God you were here today!”  He made me feel that my efforts had been noticed and appreciated; but it was his ‘thanksgiving’ to God for my presence that gave me a real sense of worth, and made me want to do more for him (which I did).

When I’m at the ‘top of my game’, feeling great and full of energy, I can easily become convinced of my own power and 'talents', and perhaps forget to step back to recognize that it’s the gifts of God’s spirit within me, through me and, at times, in spite of myself that allows others to truly know God’s presence in our world.

It’s easy to resonate with St. Paul as he speaks of carrying the treasure of God’s message in earthen vessels, “…afflicted in every way, but not crushed, full of doubts, but never despairing…struck down, but never destroyed….So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.” (2 Corinthians 4:7-15)

The focus for all our tomorrows is found in the Parable of the Talents (Matthew 25:14-30).  While we may not know for certain whether we should identify with the person to whom the master gave five talents, or two talents, or one talent, we probably can make a good guess.  It really doesn't matter, because the master's expectations for each of his servants were the same: make the best use of whatever talents I have given you.  Just don't bury them (or, in my own example above, give up)!  By thinking and praying and asking for advice, you'll come up with some good ideas on how to invest them.  Every day is a day to labor for the truth, to give loving service to the poor, and to praise the Lord—through the Mass and Divine Office, through private prayer and private reflection, or perhaps with a friend.

The current COVID crisis has many of us thinking that this may be the only day left for us to reconcile with someone whom we have offended, or who has offended us, to atone for some wrong, to go visit an elderly cousin, to play with our grandchildren.  How precious are the talents and the time given us to use them!  If we consider this day as perhaps our last day, then our talents will be used, and the benefits for us and others multiplied beyond belief.  And it's all because we’ve developed the habit of making each day as precious.  “This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it” (Psalm 118:24).  With joy in the opportunities of today, we need never fear the final Day of the Lord.

Be persistent in prayer

I can’t read the parable about the widow who persisted in her pursuit of justice with a crooked judge (Luke 18:1-8) without thinking of my mom and my grandmother.  They definitely knew how to persist in prayer.  The widow in the parable, like my mom, was one tough widow and she eventually wore down the worldly judge who rendered a just decision.  Luke connects this parable with the theme of perseverance in prayer: “pray always without becoming weary.”  But the parable is also clearly about the pursuit of justice.  We often pray for justice, but how often do we see our pursuit of justice as prayer?

When we’re whole-heartedly convinced that injustice must be addressed, no matter the odds, then we’ll persist in our pursuit of justice.  And this conviction comes from God.  As Christians, God calls each of us to work for justice, to hear the cry of the poor and to love the most vulnerable in our society.  This may manifest itself differently in each person and we each need to discern how and where God is calling us.  Only then does our work for justice become a prayer as we discover our calling.  God’s calling ignites a fire within our hearts, deepening our calling so we “pray always without becoming weary.”  God gives us the energy to pursue justice with persistence like the widow.

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

Think about this.  In the time of Jesus, a widow was essentially powerless.  This widow went directly to the judge for a decision…and she didn’t stop until she received a verdict.  I can only imagine her frustration, but she persisted.  This probably even came with some risk.

I, like many others, have a severe case of COVID fatigue.  I’m very weary of the constant chaos, bickering and unrest all over our world.  Too many people live in a constant state of fear worry and anxiety.

Is this any way to live?  I say no.  What can we do about it?  We must be patient, help each other and pray fervently.  When it doesn’t seem like our prayers are being answered, keep praying.  When hope is running out, keep praying.  When we don’t know what else to do, …keep praying.  Pray fervently and remember that Jesus walks beside us always.  His presence is persistent. Let us be persistent in our prayer. 

Trust and surrender

 

As I read the Scriptures for today to prepare for my daily meditation, I admit they added to the anxiety I’ve already been feeling about many things going on in the world today: confusion, the pandemic, rivalry and distrust, and uncertainty about the future.

But upon further reflection I saw the simplicity of John’s letter to the new Christians (2 John 1:4-9), urging them to focus on loving one another and not being swayed by the Gnostics, who denied that Jesus was fully human as well as fully God.  I saw how God’s will does prevail, because what once was a great threat to the Church (Gnosticism) was overcome and vanquished.  And that bolstered my faith, alleviating some of my current anxieties.

“Whoever seeks to preserve his life will lose it, but whoever loses it will save it.”  (Luke 17:33)

Jesus never fails to say things that cause us to stop and think.  This phrase from the Gospel is one of those things.  He presents us with an apparent paradox.  Trying to save our life will be the cause of our losing it but losing our life will be the way we save it.  What does this mean?

This statement especially goes to the heart of trust and surrender.  Basically, if we try to direct our lives and our future by our own effort, things won’t work out.  By calling us to “lose” our life, Jesus is telling us that we must abandon ourselves to Him.  We must allow Him to be the one who directs all things and guides us into His most holy will.  This is the only way to save our life.  We save it by letting go of our own will and letting God take over.

This level of trust and surrender is frustratingly difficult at first.  It’s difficult to come to the level of complete trust in God.  But if we can do just that, we’ll be amazed at the fact that God’s ways and plan for our life is far better than we could ever come up with on our own.  His wisdom is beyond compare and His solution to all our concerns and problems is perfect.

Jesus warns us not to be totally consumed with the daily preoccupations we all have.  Eating, drinking, marrying, buying, selling, planting, building—these are the “stuff of life”, and they’re not wrong.  But there’s more, much more, beyond those activities.  And on that Truth, the truth that Jesus came in the flesh to lead all souls to heaven, we should reflect and be centered upon each and every day.