An outstanding example of holiness

 

On December 8, 2020, Pope Francis announced the beginning of the universal celebration of the “Year of Saint Joseph,” which will conclude on December 8, 2021. He introduced this year with an Apostolic Letter entitled “With a Father’s Heart.”  In the introduction to that letter, the Holy Father said, “Each of us can discover in Joseph—the man who goes unnoticed, a daily, discreet and hidden presence—an intercessor, a support and a guide in times of trouble.”

The Gospel of Matthew points to the fact that Jesus was “the carpenter’s son.” (Matthew 13:54-58).  Joseph was a worker.  He worked with his hands as a carpenter so as to provide for the daily needs of the Blessed Virgin Mary and the Son of God.  He provided them with a home, with food, and with the other daily necessities of life.  Joseph also protected them both by following the various messages of the angel of God who spoke to him in his dreams.  Joseph fulfilled his duties in life in a quiet and hidden way, serving in his role as father, spouse and worker.

Though Joseph is universally recognized and honored today within our Church and even as a prominent historical world figure, during his lifetime he would have been a man who was largely unnoticed.  He would have been seen as an ordinary man doing his ordinary duty.  But in many ways, that’s what makes Saint Joseph an ideal man to imitate and a source of inspiration.  Very few people are called to serve others in the spotlight.  Very few people are publicly praised for their day-to-day duties.  Parents, especially, are often greatly unappreciated.  For that reason, the life of Saint Joseph, this humble and hidden life lived out in Nazareth, provides most people with inspiration for their own daily lives.

If our own life is somewhat monotonous, hidden, unappreciated by the masses, tedious, and even boring at times, we can look to Saint Joseph for inspiration.  Today’s memorial especially honors Joseph as a man who worked.  And his work was quite ordinary.  But holiness is especially found in the ordinary parts of our daily lives.  Choosing to serve, day in and day out, with little or no earthly accolades, is a service of love, an imitation of the life of Saint Joseph, and a source of our own holiness in life.  We must not underestimate the importance of serving in these and other ordinary and hidden ways.

As I reflect today upon the ordinary and “unremarkable” daily life of Saint Joseph, I find that my life is similar to what he would have experienced as a worker, a spouse and a father; I rejoice in that fact! I rejoice in the fact that I’m also called to a life of extraordinary holiness through the ordinary duties of daily life.  I strive to do them well, do them with love, and do them in inspiration of Saint Joseph and his spouse, the Blessed Virgin Mary who would have shared in this ordinary day-to-day life.  

It’s comforting to know that what we do each and every day, when it’s done out of love and service of others, is the surest path to holiness of life for us.

The steps to grace

 

As I read the Scriptures preparing for my reflection today, the juxtaposition of two figures that are well known to Christians shouted out to me:  Paul and Thomas.

It’s probable that Paul never knew Jesus prior to when He was crucified and resurrected but came to know Him when Jesus appeared to Paul on the road to Damascus (Acts 9).  Despite not having known Jesus during Jesus’s earthly ministry, Paul’s heart clearly was on fire.  Twenty centuries later, one can almost hear the power of his voice urgently proclaiming the Good News that Jesus died to atone for our sins (Acts 13:26-33).

And then we have Thomas in the Gospel.  Thomas was apparently the disciple who wanted to make sure that everything was in order before being convinced.  Before being sure that Jesus actually rose, he wanted to touch His hands and sides (John 20:24-29).  Then, even Jesus’s soothing words that the Father’s house has many rooms, and that Jesus would come back to guide the disciples home wasn’t good enough for Thomas; he wanted to know exactly where Jesus was going for fear that Thomas would get left behind (John 14:1-6).

So it’s easy to admire Paul and belittle Thomas, but I know I have a lot of Thomas in me; and I bet I’m not alone.  It seems clear to me that Thomas wasn’t in any way a person lacking in faith.  He was just a bit of a worrier.  He worried about what would happen the next day and about whether Jesus and God would really be there for him.  I imagine he worried about a lot of the things that many of us do.

There aren’t really that many Pauls among us.  Personally, I’d have a hard time running into a place of worship and boldly proclaiming the Resurrection to a bunch of people that I didn’t know.  But that was Paul’s greatest gift.

We all have gifts, and we all fail to use them at various points in our lives.  Maybe that makes us all a little bit like Thomas.  But look how much Jesus loved Thomas, because rather than rebuking him Jesus responded with one of the most loving passages in the Gospels: “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” (John 14:1-6)

Those three words – way, truth, life – reflect who Jesus can be to every one of us.

There’s only one way – Jesus’ way.  Most of us want to live as Jesus would have us live, because we want to go to heaven when we’ve finished our earthly journey.  We want to be Christ to others; we want to turn the other cheek (that’s a hard one) and we have to serve others in whatever capacity the Lord sees fit.  We want to see our Father’s house at the end of this journey.

There’s only one truth – that Jesus Christ is Lord, and He is our one saving grace.  His words and actions should be reflected and shared through us to others.  In trusting in Him, we know that He’ll lead us to His truth, enabling us to see through the mess through which some have blurred the clear vision of truth.

There’s only one life – a life sharing Jesus with others and living in a way that promotes His unending and beautiful love.  And in living this life, we’re reminded of the steps to grace that we can accomplish, enabling ourselves and others the chance of entering the gates of Heaven:

To hear Christ’s words and put them into practice (Matthew 7:24).

To believe in Him and have an everlasting faith; “for God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believes in him will have everlasting life”. (John 3:16)

To repent from our sins. (Luke 5:31-32)

To confess Christ to others. (Matthew 10:32)

To being baptized into Christ’s death, and living and sharing His Passion.  (Mark 16:15-16)

To remember a constant commitment in presenting our bodies as a living sacrifice, holy, and acceptable to God. (Romans 12:1-2)

If Jesus was there for Thomas, we can rest assured that He’s here for us now.

Feet

 

Feet.  Underappreciated, overlooked.  What grounds us, literally, to this earth.  (Yes, I know gravity is the force that actually does this, but I can’t see gravity.  I can feel my feet grounded to the earth.)  In a time when travel was almost exclusively by foot, a sign of respect and reverence, and of hospitality, was to wash the feet of visitors. One of the perks of my retirement is that I try to get a pedicure every 3 months or so.  I enjoy the rejuvenation of my spirit that I feel when I’m having my feet massaged and rubbed with lotion.

As we age our feet show the travails of our lives.  Infants have innocent and almost perfectly formed feet, yet they’re also soft and weak, incapable of holding their weight or transporting them.  Children, teens, and young adults have feet that become progressively stronger, more capable and supportive, more able to move in a willed direction.  But these feet also start to develop signs of age, signs of toughening, of callousing and callousness, to the forces around them.  Think of how calloused the feet of Jesus and His disciples must have been – tough as leather, reflecting the many miles that they had traveled.  Even later in life feet show more of the stress that they’ve received – bunions, and aches, and pains that only increase as they’re used. 

Jesus, by His act of washing the calloused, dirty, tough soles of the disciples’ feet clearly sends the message that, as He reminds them and us, no master is greater than the disciple (John 13:16-20).  I think there are other possible messages here though.  Jesus chose to humble Himself by washing feet, the means by which people move in a willed direction.  And so we can ask ourselves in what direction are we moving, and is it the direction we feel called by God to follow?  Is Jesus reminding us to ask if our feet are moving us closer to God?  And what of our feet themselves?  Are they innocent like the infant’s or calloused and world-weary like the older person?  Doesn’t Jesus rejuvenate our feet, and our spirits, by His washing and refreshing, His message of hope and salvation?  And can we accept His washing, as did the apostles, by surrendering to the act of charity that He provides with a grateful heart?  When we’re aware of Jesus washing our feet, do our eyes shine with the gratitude of an old man whose feet are caressed and rubbed with lotion?

My prayer today is that I can be conscious of Jesus being there to wash my world-weary feet as I journey through life, and that in my consciousness I can be grateful for His sacrifice for me.

Prophets and teachers

In a reading from Acts, Paul (still called Saul at this time) and Barnabas had just returned to Antioch and were speaking among prophets and teachers (Acts 12:24—13:5).  Prophets weren’t fortune tellers, but people sensitive to the presence of God in prayer, worship and daily life.  They helped interpret God’s desires for the Christian community.  Teachers were those gifted in the ability to faithfully pass on the traditions of the Christian community and to instruct others about Scripture.  These two roles are still indispensable to the life of the Church today.

“It was not you who chose me, but I who chose you and appointed you….” (John 15:16)

In mind’s eye, I’m back on the dusty playground of my elementary school while teams were being chosen for just about any sport or game we played at recess or PE those days—volleyball, softball, dodge ball—and desperately hoping to hear my name called before one of the teams had to take either me or the other miserable kid standing forlornly beside me.

As I read the Acts of the Apostles again today, I realize that the Lord of the Universe has chosen even us playground losers for his team.

And what do we have to do to be worthy of this honor? “…to go and bear fruit that will remain.” (John 15:16)

I’ve been pondering what this means since we former team rejects will never cure cancer, compose a hymn that competes with “Ode to Joy” or work in Calcutta’s slums.  Then I think of a man who I’ve written about before, who used to attend the 5:30 PM daily mass at one of the churches in Bakersfield.

I never even knew his name, but whenever I would attend the weekday mass at that chapel, he’d be sitting in the front pew right in front of the altar playing his harmonica in a low tone.

Occasionally, I could figure out what he was playing, but not often.  Sometimes I thought he was composing his own song, since he would play the same notes over and over and over again.  He was an older man who walked with a stoop and had very arthritic fingers.  At weekday masses it’s uncommon for a lot of music to be heard.  But this man would play his harmonica during the offertory rite and again right after communion.

In retrospect, he was one of the “prophets” that the Holy Spirit chose to place in my life.  At first the harmonica playing was a distraction to me and my own ability to be “in the moment” with Christ at Mass.  But the more I heard the old man “witnessing” with his instrument, it became clear his playing was his way of giving his all to God through his meager talent.  Soon, his playing became a portal through which I entered into a more meaningful prayer with God.

So if any of us are overwhelmed with the idea of God actually choosing us for His team (even if we always struck out), we needn’t be intimidated.  Like my ‘harmonica troubadour’, remember that there are about a zillion small things we can do in our ordinary life to “bear fruit that will remain” and justify our place on God’s team.

As we continue to give thanks to God for the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, we might also want to give thanks to the prophets and teachers who have helped us understand Scripture, revealed to us new methods of deeper prayer, encouraged us to be faithful, guided us with their wisdom, showed us effective ways to be sensitive to God’s presence in our life, reminded us of our true vocation as Christians and in times of confusion pointed us in the right direction.  We might not have called them "prophets" or "teachers."  Maybe we called them mother or father, brother or sister, uncle or cousin, friend or co-worker, pastor or associate, author or preacher—even “stranger”.  By whatever name we called them, they were God’s way of reaching out to us.  

Hearing the voice of Jesus

 

In the earliest days of the new Church, the disciples were spreading the good news everywhere. They recognized that Jesus was Christ and wanted to share the news.  They followed Him and knew Him.  They were the first to call themselves Christians because they recognized and followed Christ.  It was a new beginning and a new faith.  But not everyone recognized and not everyone believed.  There was a lot of persecution and not everyone wanted to hear about what had happened and who Jesus was (Acts 11:19-26).

In the gospel, the Jews ask Jesus straight out if He is the Christ.  He says that He’s told them that He is and that He’s shown them in many ways, but still they won’t see and won’t believe.  Jesus says that they’re not His followers because they don’t believe, and because they don’t believe they’re not His followers.  His followers recognize Him and believe Him and believe in Him.  Like sheep recognize their shepherd and follow him, His people recognize Him and follow Him (John 10:22-30).  

It’s hard to imagine that the religious leaders of Jesus’ day wouldn’t easily accept Jesus as the Messiah – His followers knew, just by His words, His actions, His teachings.  They doubted that this man truly was the Son of God!  But how would we react if someone came into our midst, sharing the teachings as Jesus did – would we immediately accept his word that he was the one true King?

We see our doubts flourish as we enter into decisions in our own lives – election choices that will bring our nation to its fullest, choosing the leaders we need to better our own communities and our churches, even personal decisions within our own families.  We’ve seen families and friendships fall away because of political and opinionated discourse.  And it’s a difficult path, at times, to decipher truth from untruth.  But I personally would treasure a chance to hear Jesus preach, feeling the depth of His love in every word, wanting so desperately to see Him rise.  Yet, if we really think about it, that’s the experience we can enjoy every day!  We hear His words every time we open a bible, and He arose in a way that has given strength and hope for us, and for future generations.

There must be prayer with every decision we make, and there must be a trust that the one true leader is Jesus Christ Himself.  He’ll take care of the rest, and through prayerful discernment, we’ll come to a place in this world where fear and doubt will no longer exist but be replaced by an undoubtable trust.

At least that’s my prayer and my confident hope, anyway.

All are welcome

 

The talk of circumcision, as it was discussed in the Acts of the Apostles, probably makes most of us creepily uncomfortable.  However, the struggle of the Apostles to understand who was and who wasn’t included in the Kingdom of God was all tied to who was or who wasn’t circumcised (Acts 11:1-18).  Obviously, the reference only pertained to males.  But that’s not really the point.

What is the point is that Acts is really a story about how the Apostles made sense of what they knew about Jesus and His teaching; how they applied what they knew to new situations as they developed.  Jesus promised them the gift of the Holy Spirit not a roadmap.  They had to figure things out as they went.

In Acts, Peter relayed a revelation about the generosity of God welcoming all—Jews and Gentiles—into the Kingdom of God.  Peter says, “Who was I to be able to hinder God?” And those who doubted then believed.  They understood that all are welcome, circumcised or not.

In our own time, we pretend to be so sure about who’s in and who’s out.  Who’s right and who’s wrong. Who’s included and who’s excluded.  It may not be about circumcision, but it might be about conservative or liberal, gay or straight, Black or White, rural or urban, documented or not, married or divorced.

We say “Well, yes, there’s room for everybody.  But first you have to be this or that, and obey all the rules, and change this or that . . . After all, that’s what God wants . . .”

Are we sure?

Perhaps what’s needed is a little humility here.  In several places the Gospels tell us that Jesus went off by Himself to pray.  Almost certainly that prayer to His Father was “What is Your will in this situation? What do you want me to do?”  We should do no less before deciding we know God’s will.  How many times – and in how many places – has God told us “My ways are not your ways. My thoughts are not your thoughts”? (Isaiah 55:7-11, Mark 7:21-23, Romans 8:6, among others)

When we become alert to this theme of inclusiveness, we find it in many places throughout the New Testament (John 11:52; Acts 10:34–35; 11:17; Romans 10:12; 1 Corinthians 12:13; Colossians 3:11; Ephesians 3:2–6) and even the Old (Isaiah 60:1–7), but most clearly in Paul’s words to the “stupid” Galatians (3:28–29): “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

If that seems somehow wrong to us, well . . . it should.  Paul calls it a “mystery” and says that this insight came not through human sources but by direct revelation from God.  It’s one manifestation of what is meant by the phrase “a new creation”.  God has made something completely new – unprecedented. This understanding could not have had human origins.  Humans reject the other, the stranger.  For humans, it’s “them” and “us”.  But for God it’s just “us” – always “us”.

What gives me hope is that God is gracious and welcoming no matter who we are.  And the Apostles began to realize this.  They lived in a culture that defined itself too often by who was in or who was out, a part of their community or not.  Soon, they began to understand that Jesus was calling them—and us—to include, not exclude.  Let’s welcome, not shun others and rejoice in how the Spirit draws diverse peoples together into community.

First things first

 

On live, national TV, after a lot of sports contests, commentators often thrust a microphone in front of a player who was key to the win and ask them to talk about the crucial play they made. Many athletes compliment their coaches and say they had them well-prepared to play the game; some talk about their teammates and the trust they have for each other to take the potential game-winning “shot”; and some talk not about their coaches or their teammates but rather about themselves, and how they knew they were destined to be a great player.  Then there are a few who don’t talk about their coaches, their team or themselves, but instead deflect all the honor and glory to God.

Maybe one of the most memorable examples of this was by National Football League quarterback Kurt Warner right after winning the Super Bowl in 2000.  Before answering the TV commentator’s questions about the victory, he said, “First things first. I have to give praise and glory to my Lord and Savior up above. Thank You, Jesus.”

In much the same way, the Apostle Peter responded to questions about the miracle he performed with the crippled man at the Beautiful Gate of the Temple who could now walk (Acts 4:8-12).

Peter focused the attention of the assembled leaders and the elders not on the good deed he had done for the man, but rather that it was done in the name of Jesus Christ the Nazorean and that “there is no salvation through anyone else, nor is there any other name under heaven given to the human race by which we are to be saved." Powerful words indeed.

What do we do when someone singles us out and praises us for a job well done?  Do we deflect the honor and recognition to our mentors, to our teammates at work?  Do we take all the credit for ourselves, or do we give the praise and glory to our Lord and Savior?

The best course of action is the latter, to not let pride come between us and God.  We need to humble ourselves and give the praise and glory to God.  Besides being right, it helps reinforce His constant presence in our lives and that His guiding hand is always on our shoulder, and that the good we’re trying to do each and every day in this world is not for our personal gain, but for the greater glory of His kingdom.

Truth be told, we may just be the stones that were rejected by the builders (Psalms 118:1-29); but, by our unselfish actions we can become the cornerstones of God’s church here on earth.

Hard sayings

 

Anyone who has read the New Testament knows that Jesus said some challenging things.  If we were to create a list of sayings most likely to be labeled as “hard,” certainly His teaching on divorce would be at the top of the list (Matthew 19:3−12, Mark 10:2−12, Luke 16:14−18).  Also, right at the top would be His strong statements about forgiveness—as in forgiving those who have wronged us “seventy times seven times.” (Matthew 18:22)

Yet, the words in the gospel of John refer to neither of those top contenders.  Rather, they’re spoken in reference to Jesus’ graphic words:  "Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the Flesh of the Son of Man and drink his Blood, you do not have life within you.” (John 6:53).  For life-long Catholics, the words have a familiar sound.  But for His first century Jewish audience the shocking realism of the words would have been difficult to accept.  So difficult, that many of His followers abandoned Him.

There are generally three common attitudes people have toward the Most Holy Eucharist.  One attitude is that of profound faith. Another is that of indifference.  And a third is what we find in John’s Gospel: disbelief.  Those who walked away from Jesus did so because they said, “This saying is hard; who can accept it?”  What a great statement and question to ponder (John 6:60-69).

It’s true, in a certain way, that the teaching of Jesus on the Most Holy Eucharist is a hard saying. “Hard,” however, isn’t bad.  It’s hard in the sense that belief in the Eucharist is only possible through a faith that comes from a deep interior revelation from God.  In the case of those who walked away from Jesus, they heard His teaching, but their hearts were closed to the gift of faith.  They remained stuck on a purely intellectual level, and, thus, the idea of eating the Flesh and Blood of the Son of God was more than they could comprehend.  So who could accept such a statement?  Only those who listen to our Lord as He speaks to them interiorly.  It’s only that interior conviction that comes from God that can be proof of the truthfulness of the Holy Eucharist.

As Catholics, we believe that when we consume that which appears to be only “bread and wine,” we’re actually consuming Christ Himself.  It’s a hard saying and a difficult teaching, which is why it must be taken very seriously.  For those who don’t flat out reject this teaching, there’s also the temptation to be somewhat indifferent to the teaching.  It can easily be misunderstood to be just symbolism in the way our Lord talks.  But the symbolism is much more than just symbolism.  It’s a profound, challenging, and life-changing teaching of how we share in the divine and eternal life our Lord wishes to bestow upon us.

The source and summit of Christian life

 

Living is growing.  Living is moving, moving freely by choice and action, from being limited – materially, intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually – into self-transcendence, into a horizon that gets bigger with each new step further into life.  It comes down to moving from desires to satisfaction, and the process is what’s thrilling.  Coming to a well of cool water as a long walk is finally ending.  Going to Grandma’s for Thanksgiving, getting there, reveling in her warm, welcoming embrace, and then moving forward to delicious foods, memories, laughs and comfort.  Getting through what seemed our longest years and finally becoming a teenager.  Getting through school and getting a career.  Raising a family.  Becoming a good, magnanimous, loving person.  And living out the pursuit of all these good things in the company and in league with others -- with family, friends, and community.  These all take time:  some of it hard, much of it joyous, all of it necessary.

God portions our lives out into moments, days, weeks, and years.  Along with that, God also gives us the means, the way, and the truth to figure out, decide and act upon on a whole hierarchy of desires which He has placed within us. They make up the fuel moving us to pursue what is lacking—to search for it, go after it, and find it.  Food.  Love.  Intimacy.  New experiences, knowledge, and understanding.  Safety and security.  Companionship and community.

Our bodies and souls, full of desires for these things, testify that we long for fullness of life.  Along the way, we have moments when we taste it, not to the full, but the taste is real, and it satisfies—for the moment.  But we always seem to hunger for more.

Sometimes we seek and go after momentary satisfactions willy-nilly, in no particular order – like a puppy going from his master to his food, to scampering about, then back again to the others.  Sometimes we go after them according to what we think is more fulfilling, and we plan accordingly.  Sometimes we pursue them according to what is more fulfilling, and for these reasons we discern and pray – sometimes in solitude, sometimes with others – and then decide and try to live accordingly. 

Underneath all our desires, mingling with them and undergirding them, is the desire for God.  Life is sorting out and ordering all our other desires to the one that is deepest and most passionate, the one that gives ultimate meaning and relevance to all the rest.  We sometimes know it and are sometimes unaware of it, but what we want ultimately is a loving relationship with God—and through that, a loving relationship with everything and everyone else.

God is the only one who can slake our deepest thirst, feed our deepest hunger, satisfy our desires to the full.  We want God’s company, God’s protection, God’s love.  We want intimacy with the one who gives us our very life, with all its desires.

All too often, we grab for substitutes.  Fast food.  Faster living, faster cars.  More convenience, more comfort, unrestricted sexual fulfillment (without responsibility), and the so-called “right” of complete freedom to do whatever I want whenever I want to.

Jesus offers us the ultimate food and drink:  giving us bread that is His body and drink that is His blood, poured out for us (John 6:52-59).  We need to calm down, become simpler, and receive quietly this Body and Blood of Christ into our own fleshly selves.  Doing so puts us squarely in God’s company, secures us under God’s protection, and engages us in God’s intimate love.  It unites us with the one who is giving us our life, with all its desires.

We can do this at Mass, thanks be to God.  The Eucharistic Prayer makes ready the food we receive at Communion.  At Mass we ponder, choose, and act to fulfill our realest hunger and thirst.  We eat the bread which Christ identifies as “true food,” and we drink the blood which is “true drink.”  In doing this, we enter into the kind of communion Our Lord speaks of in John’s Gospel: “Whoever eats my Flesh and drinks my Blood remains in me and I in him.” 

This communion will nourish the moment-by-moment course of our lives, if we let it.  It will bring order to our desires.  It will lay out the way for us, serve up the truth of things, and move us to the very pulse of life.  It will satisfy our desire to unite our hearts and minds to one another and to God.

We're drawn to the Truth

 

In the Acts of the Apostles, we hear about the journey of a court official, referred to only as an “Ethiopian eunuch,” and his chance (?) encounter with Philip on the way home (Acts 8:26-40).  An unusual trip in that he went to Jerusalem to worship, yet it appears he understood surprisingly little about Jesus and His fulfillment of the prophecies of old.  What was it that drew him to take this journey?  Or to continue to study the scriptures during his return trip?  Who or what might have inspired Philip to take this route, and nudge him to join up with the eunuch’s chariot that he might be instrumental in the eunuch’s conversion and baptism?  In Philip’s case, we’re told it was “the Angel of the Lord”, and a few lines later, the “Spirit”.  I’m convinced the same Holy Spirit orchestrated the eunuch’s choices, as well.

Many circumstances in our lives, either voluntary or involuntary, drive us to seek the comfort of our faith in God’s love.  Jesus speaks about our being drawn by God to a belief in Him (John 6:44-51).  It’s through God’s influences (the Holy Spirit) that we’re able to grasp Truth, which is God. 

These influences can be as subtle as quiet moments of contemplation of the night sky, realizing that there must be something greater than ourselves, an uncreated Creator.  Or an influence might be a circumstance that beats us completely down, like the death of a loved one, a sudden serious illness, or perhaps just the accumulated challenges of daily life, as I imagine we’ve all experienced in this past year or so.  In these moments of reflection or dark times of pain and sorrow, we’re drawn by God to instinctively seek to understand His plan and our place in it.

Jesus tells us that no one can approach God the Father except through Him.  But we’re drawn by God to seek our Redeemer.  Pride can make us believe not only that we don’t need God, but even cause doubt as to His existence.  Mankind has become so sophisticated and knowledgeable that we no longer need the “crutch” of religion, faith, or God. 

Despite the vain blindness caused by intellectualism which shrouds from us our true place in existence, we’re drawn to Truth through all our circumstances called Life.  The longing to know and be reunited with our Creator is part of who we are as a species created in His image and likeness.   We humbly seek our Redeemer and through Him come to know Truth, which is God.

A promise pondered

 

Psalm 66 is one of joy and celebration, proposing vigorous celebration and worship.  No sitting quietly and reverently.  It’s a call for “whooping it up”.  A call for exultation. The psalm is saying that we should be so grateful to God that our worship is heartfelt and exuberant.  “Shout joyfully to God”. 

In the book of Acts, Saul (Paul) was trying to persecute the young Church, dragging men and women from their homes and handing them over for imprisonment.  Philip went to Samaria and proclaimed Christ to them exorcising demons and curing crippled people resulting in great joy.  Instead of cowering in fear Philip boldly proclaimed Christ and healed them (Acts 8:1-8).

The Gospel of John proclaims to us that Jesus “is the bread of life, whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst” (John 6:35-40).

After just a few minutes of reflection on these Scripture readings, I realized that each of them puts emphasis on ideas that could be expressed with words beginning with the letter P –words like "persecution" and "perseverance."  Quite quickly a flood of other "P" words came to mind: patience, and prayer and praise, proclamation and possession and petition.  Even in the phrase from Acts, "crippled people," the letter stands out.

And all of these words are as relevant today as they were two millennia ago.  Around the world (and even here in the USA) there are those who are persecuted as the early Christians were persecuted, because of their race, their religion, their ethnicity, their ideas or poverty.  Our patience is tested by intractable wars, and by violence in our cities and towns, by a pandemic and natural disasters.  On a positive note, the glorious colors, smells and sounds of spring are prompting our praise of the Creator of all the natural wonders.  Whether we suffer or celebrate, we have reasons for prayer.

But the P word that strikes me most right now as I reflect on these passages is "promise."  In the Gospel Jesus promises us eternal life.  Now all of us make promises.  The insincere, whether out of simple greed or lust or egregious malevolence, may make promises they don’t intend to keep.  Most of us try to keep our promises, aware, as in the famous words of Robert Frost's poem, that we "have miles to go" before we sleep.  But every so often even the best of us don’t live up to our promises, breaking them because of forgetfulness, or lack of time or energy, or unexpected and justifiable changes in our priorities.  Whether parents or children, bosses or employees, teachers or students, helpers or those being helped, so often we don’t keep our word.

If we believe, however, in the perfect goodness of Jesus Christ; if we proceed from that starting point of our Faith that is the divinity of Christ and the infinite love that is God, we may surely find that the essence of these passages is the marvelous promise by Jesus the Redeemer.  He offers eternal life, and He won’t withdraw the offer.  As did those persecuted twenty centuries ago, we together acknowledge one who is not only a model but a promise-maker.  He who never sinned will never break His word.  This spring, in the month of Easter, we know He’ll keep his promise.

What are we afraid of?

 

As I reflected today on the story of Stephen, the first deacon and martyr (and my namesake), an image that came to me was of watching cartoons with my grandkids.  We can be watching a Disney classic like Lion King or Aladdin or some other harmless animation film when something appears to scare them!  In particular, I remember watching Beauty and the Beast with Lily a few years back in the theater.  We were enjoying Belle cavorting about the house, and the singing kitchen implements, and Gaston and his cohorts bursting out in rambunctious song.  As the movie went on, the Beast first appeared, and I smiled.  What an imposing guy he was!  I turned to remark to Lily just that when I noticed she had her eyes covered with her hands.  Puzzled, I looked back at the image.  Sure he was in dark clothes and had big teeth, but he was an animated character, for goodness’ sake.  Certainly, he couldn’t be scary, could he?

In the Acts of the Apostles, we have a similar situation (Acts 7:51 - 8:1).  Stephen, a man of God, was preaching to the people, dishing out some good old fashioned humble pie.  They were infuriated.  But then when Stephen mentioned seeing Jesus: that was too much for them.  Like children, they “covered their ears,” then rushed him and stoned him, and set about planning his execution.

Having had a direct personal experience in the matter, I know fear when I see it.  Stephen tapped into the people’s fear, and they reacted violently to protect what they had.  They obviously felt threatened at a deep level; and responded to that threat by obliterating its source.

 We all assume that the Good News is uplifting, calming, and assuring.  But it’s a shock to us that – to some – it could also be scary.

What is it that scared Stephen’s listeners?  Certainly, his scathing attack on their ancestry left them a bit miffed, but they didn’t become riled to action until Stephen mentioned seeing the “Son of Man in the heavens standing at the right hand of God”.

My suspicion is that there were many people at that time that preferred a dead Jesus to a risen one.  A dead Jesus is a historical figure, an episode of the past.  A risen Jesus is a continuation of the message that He preached, and a deepening of it.   Now, no longer tied down to human mortality, a risen Jesus is at the same time the Truth and the verification of the Truth.  He’s not just words any more:  He’s proof.  We can’t ignore the risen Jesus, because in His rising from the dead He’s guaranteed a new world order.

So the Good News might be seen as bad news by those who find comfort in the old-world order.

That’s why Stephen’s prayer that this sin shouldn’t be held against them makes sense.  He wasn’t forgiving them.  He was recognizing their entrenched fear.

It’s not too late to look at our own comforts.  Do we find comfort in our current “world order?”  Do we hold our hands over our ears (figuratively or literally) whenever someone broaches a certain subject?  Maybe it’s time to admit that there are some ideas that are just plain scary to us.  Knowing what those ideas are and perhaps why they scare us is the first step towards acknowledging that a risen Jesus is much better than a dead one.

Some of the people following Jesus when He gave “His Bread of Life Discourse” wanted some sort of sign that proved He was who He said He was.  They said Moses gave his people manna from heaven – what could Jesus do for a sign?  But Jesus explained that Moses didn’t give his people the manna – God gave them the bread.  And God gave us Jesus.  He is the sign.  He is the bread.  He is the manna from heaven.  How sad that those people were so blind that they couldn’t see what was right in front of them (John 6:30-35).

The people who stoned Stephen (including a young man named Saul) couldn’t recognize the prophets or the prophecies, and when they were told of their errors, they continued in their denial and refused to recognize their mistakes and refused to recognize the prophet in their midst.  The people who wanted some proof from Jesus didn’t recognize that God was right in front of them, but unlike those who stoned Stephen, when they did recognize Jesus, they knew He was all they would need.  He is the bread and those who acknowledge that will never be hungry.

It's hard work!

 

My reflection today was on the gospel reading immediately following the miracle of Jesus walking on the water (John 6:16-21).  The crowds who had just witnessed the miracle of the multiplication of loaves and fishes (John 6:1-15) were not privy to this other miracle.  So they wondered at how Jesus got to the other side when they didn’t see Him get into the boat with the disciples (John 6:22-29).  One would think that seeking Jesus is something to be praised and desired.  Yet, Jesus Himself chastised the crowds who sought Him out, because they had a wrong idea of who He is.  Their focus was on the earthly and temporal whereas Jesus was inviting them to move their attention to the heavenly and eternal.  

He told them to work for food that does not perish, but for food that endures for eternal life.  Some began to believe.  They asked, “What can we do to accomplish the works of God?”  They recognized that this effort to work for food that endures for eternal life is a work of God.  These people were quite familiar with the Book of Genesis, and the “work of God” in the seven days of creation, and then resting after the seventh day.  Working for God would not be an easy calling!

So, why do we go looking for Jesus?  Are we after the bread of daily life, the cures of our many personal illnesses or those of our dear family members and friends?  Are we looking for Jesus because we want to live a comfortable life with no personal or familial sufferings or challenges?  Or are we looking for Jesus so that we can accomplish the works of God?  Jesus Himself tells us what the most important work of God is: “that you believe in the one he sent.” (John 6:29)

Believing that Jesus is the Son of God is hard work!  Believing in the teaching of Jesus is hard work!  Following Jesus to the Cross is hard work!  Living the life of the Resurrected Jesus is hard work!  But because it’s a work of God, it’s not all up to us.

As I reflected on the gospel, I asked myself whether I focus on what is temporary, fleeting, superficial, or on what is eternal, lasting, deep.  Is my relationship with Jesus merely one where I seek Him to perform miracles?  Or is it one where I absolutely believe who Jesus is, the one sent by God?  And does this believing translate itself into action where I become the presence of Jesus in the world today?  During these pandemic times, there is undoubtedly a temptation to seek Jesus the miracle worker.  But as we celebrate this Easter season, we are called to embrace Jesus, the real Bread of Life and to be committed as disciples to the vision of life He proposes.  A vision of life that calls us to move away from self-interest towards fashioning a kingdom where the least among us are cared for and respected. 

Jesus himself has fed us with the Bread of Heaven.  He strengthens us with his Word.  He accompanies us in our journey.  He intervenes when we try to walk away.  We’re not alone.  What echoes in our minds and hearts is Jesus’ last words to us, “And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.” (Mathew 28:20)

The call to repentance

 

Luke’s Gospel recounts the appearance of Jesus to the disciples in the Upper Room in Jerusalem.  The two disciples who had encountered Jesus on the Road to Emmaus had rushed back to Jerusalem to share incredible news. They had seen the Lord and recognized Him in the breaking of the bread.  The faithful, gathered in the privacy of the Upper Room, were now putting all the pieces together-sharing other eyewitness stories of the resurrection of Jesus (Luke24:35-48).

Then, without warning, their mood shifted from joy to fear.  To their great surprise, the Lord appeared in their midst and proclaimed, "Peace be with you."  Jesus, observing that they were distressed, asked "Why are you troubled?"   Jesus then showed them His hands and feet.  And, to further demonstrate that He was no ghost, He asked for something to eat.  Fish was what was available on the table, which He ate “to the full”.  Now the disciples knew that this was no ghost!

Once again, just as Jesus had done while walking with the disciples on the Road to Emmaus, He pointed the gathered back to the Scriptures which foretold His death and resurrection—and the revelation that "repentance, for the forgiveness of sins, would be preached in his name to all the nations, beginning from Jerusalem."

We can relate this teaching in the Upper Room to the account in the Acts of the Apostles, and Peter fulfilling Jesus’ call to preach repentance–beginning in Jerusalem (Acts 3:13-19).  Filled with the Holy Spirit, Peter preached with vim and vigor the message of the Risen Lord and the need for repentance.  Peter could relate to this need for repentance from his own personal experience.

He knew what despair and emptiness comes from denying Christ.  Clearly, to be a good preacher of repentance and a life in Jesus Christ, we must be willing to repent our own sinfulness.

In this Easter Season, let’s focus on our ongoing conversion and renewal in faith—that we too may join in active discipleship and preach in action and words our belief in the power of Jesus Christ.  To strengthen our faith and knowledge, we must take time to break open the Word and recognize Jesus in "the breaking of the bread."   We need to do all of this in community, just as the disciples did while gathered in their Upper Room. 

Like the disciples, we too may experience times of fear or confusion.  Nevertheless, if we remain faithful to our call, we can and will experience the power of the Risen Christ in our lives.

Hope amidst the storms

 

In my reflections today, I can’t help but to make a comparison of the last 14 months of Covid-19, social unrest, and uncertainty to the story of the disciples in a storm on the Sea of Galilee (John 6:16-21).  The story is one each of us should eagerly take to heart because it’s about finding hope amidst unforeseen storms.  In this account, the disciples are about to embark on a simple evening sail across the lake to Capernaum.  Nothing seems amiss, nothing ominous appears on the horizon.  Indeed, because they have likely taken this journey many times before, when they set out on what seem to be untroubled waters, there’s no reason for them to expect anything other than smooth sailing.  But suddenly, and quite unpredictably, everything changes.  As if out of nowhere, strong winds and rough waters leave them fearing for their lives, utterly at the mercy of forces they are powerless to control.

Is it any different for us?  This gospel story is a fitting metaphor for our lives because there are moments for all of us when everything—like the waters of the lake that evening—seems calm, tranquil, and promising.  But then, through no fault of our own, we sail into unforeseen storms and find ourselves buffeted by unexpected misfortune, tossed about by overwhelming adversity or nearly pulled under in oceans of loss and desolate grief.  Too, like the disciples that unforgettable evening, we can feel that Jesus is nowhere in sight when we need Him most, leaving us to navigate the rough seas of our lives all on our own. 

But that’s never true.  In this gospel story, Jesus doesn’t quiet the storm or calm the waters; rather, He’s walking right beside the disciples as they make their way through the storm, even though they don’t see him right away.  Similarly, we may not be able to escape the storms of suffering, hardship, calamity, and loss, but we never navigate them alone.  We can always find hope amidst unforeseen storms because Jesus says to us exactly what He said to those disciples that night: “It is I; do not be afraid.”

Every day is a good day for miracles

Reflecting on the Acts of the Apostles, I’m challenged by the image of the Apostles being flogged after leaving the Sanhedrin and then actually "rejoicing" to be found worthy to suffer in Jesus' name: After recalling the Apostles, they had them flogged, ordered them to stop speaking in the name of Jesus, and dismissed them. So they left the presence of the Sanhedrin, rejoicing that they had been found worthy to suffer dishonor for the sake of the name. (Acts 5:34-42)

I have to ask myself, "How often, when I suffer, do I grumble?"  Filled with the Holy Spirit, the apostles had a profound unity with Jesus, which I’d love to have.  Imagine how powerful a grace it would be to have such an intimacy with Jesus that we would even experience that intimacy in suffering.  Graces to which we are attracted are worth asking for.

“This is truly the Prophet, the one who is to come into the world.” (John 6:1-15).  This was the reaction of many to Jesus, as He turned five loaves and two fish into a feast for thousands.  We spend our lives waiting to see miracles of this magnitude performed; to see firsthand the power of God. 

If a miracle is an extraordinary event believed to be caused by God’s power, then the word ‘miracle’ has a much broader definition than walking on water.  If I look at my own life, I’m continually amazed at the power of God, and I should count every blessing a miracle.  Finding my wife, the perfect match for me for the last 47 years—miracle; having children and grandchildren who continually remind me of the graces God has blessed me with—miracle; freely able to worship and praise God without fear of reprisal—miracle; being genuinely happy when I wake up every morning—miracle.  Imagine our world if we could see and appreciate all of the “mini miracles.”  We would see that we’re loved by a Creator who wants to bless us daily.

When we’re on the receiving end of a miracle, what is our reaction?  “Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks.”  There’s no greater example than Jesus.  He knew the power of the Father, and immediately gave Him the thanks He rightfully deserved.  What a lesson for me, to not only see the miracle, but then to glorify the Father in response.  I’m already looking forward to the next miracle in my life, whatever that may be.  And when it comes, I know how I want to react.  Every day is a good day for a miracle. 

God is trustworthy

 

I’d like to picture myself as one who exudes a loving peace and calm, leading a constant interior prayer life and always connected in some mystical way to the Holy Spirit.  Yeah, I’d like to, but I'm not like that much.

Instead, I’m more impatient, tapping my feet and drumming my fingers at lines, waiting, traffic, frustrating situations, etc.  Sometimes though, I’m flooded with the grace of patience and a peace in the midst of a situation that would normally be stressful.  I can recognize it right away and always feel grateful to the Holy Spirit for this new patience and peace that I’m certain doesn’t emanate from me.

I think the Scriptures I reflected on today are a good example of some of the graces that come with the Holy Spirit.  In the Acts of the Apostles, we see the formerly cowardly Peter, now peacefully standing in court calmly saying, “We must obey God rather than men.”  After recounting what those court officers had done to Jesus, Peter adds, “We are witnesses of these things, as is the Holy Spirit whom God has given to those who obey him.”  He feels the peace and calm of the Holy Spirit and recognizes it, much to the fury of the court officials (Acts 5:27-33).

The Gospel of John notes that the gifts of the Spirit are not rationed.  Instead those graces are given with a generous and overflowing love.  The fruits of the Holy Spirit are clear in our lives when we recognize them.  They include peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, charity and joy.  He doesn’t ration His gift of the Spirit (John 3:31-36).

And the opposites of these gifts are also clear.  When our days are filled with gossip, criticism and judgments, we’ve lost touch with the Spirit.  If we can easily see how others could improve their lives and we hold tightly to the grudges in our hearts, we’ve forgotten the generous heart of the Spirit who is constantly pouring down graces on us.

Also in John’s Gospel, we hear this nugget: “God is trustworthy.”

How shocking Peter’s statement to the high priest must have been.  The members of the Sanhedrin undoubtedly believed they spoke for God, so it brought them up short to be reminded that there’s a power higher than theirs.

Given time and reflection, it’s usually clear what God’s will is in any situation.  Peter had no doubt what the right thing to do was: keep preaching in the name of Jesus.

His assurance was due in part to the fact that God is indeed trustworthy.  We can trust that if we believe firmly, after reflecting and praying, that we’re acting according to God’s guidance, then we’re acting justly.  If new information comes to light or things don’t turn out as planned, we can still be assured that God is pleased with our attempts to do the right thing and will show us the way forward once again.

The cry of the poor

 

"I sought the Lord and He answered me and delivered me from all my fears." (Psalm 34: 5)

When I retired a couple of years ago, I began a journey to deepen my interior life, to come closer to the Lord.  To deepen my relationship with Him.  My journey has been one of increased prayers and reflections that I look forward to sharing each day on my blog.  This journey has become one of coming to know the Lord and His love, but also of knowing myself.  And letting the Lord know me.  Not the varnished version I often might present, even to God.  But of the real me He created and knows.  I’ve come to know, or I’ve been shown, my poverty, my need.  

Psalm 34 reminds us that “The Lord hears the cry of the poor” (v 7).  My reaction over the years when I heard the verse about the Lord hearing and answering the cry of “poor” among us was to immediately think of the poor in Africa, Calcutta or even the chronically poor here in the USA. 

I may have always thought of myself as a “good” Catholic, but on my current journey, even at 67 years old, I’ve been led to know myself in a deeper and truer way, seeing my poverty, my need for healing, my need for a Savior.  It’s not the physical poverty I had always thought of when I heard the refrain from the Psalm, but I truly have come to see myself as one of the Lord’s poor.  I believe it’s from that humble place, that we’re better able to be open to live the Lord’s truth and come into the light that we hear about in John’s Gospel, allowing The Lord to heal our poverty and draw us into new life with Him.  

Do we ever think of ourselves as poor?  As being in need?  Or are we ok, just need a little help now and then?  We’ll ask for it if we need it.  A temporary lifeline.  Do we ever consider our own poverty?  Our need for a Savior?  God has seen mankind’s need throughout history, and in John’s Gospel we’re shown His response:  Out of His love, He sent His only Son that we might be saved, that we might have life, eternal life (John 3:16-21).