Children of God

 

Saints are people who "washed their clothes in the blood of the Lamb" (Revelation 7:2-14)—that is, they put the grace of their Baptism to daily use.  Saints are people whose main struggle in life was to live as "children of God" (1 John 3:1-3)—merciful, humble, forgiving, peacemakers.  Saints are people who lived the Beatitudes of the Gospel (Matthew 5:1-12).

Our lives as Christians are not necessarily lives of comfort, carelessness and happiness.  It’s actually the opposite, and our lives must be lived for those who mourn, in search of righteousness, with clean hearts and knowing it will be a struggle.  It’s in these things that we’re truly blessed and it’s in these things where we truly find our Lord.

Saints are people who suffered often, fell from grace sometimes, but always picked themselves up through genuine sorrow for sin. They’re the ones who talked to God as a friend, sought to put His Will first in their lives, and found their strength in the food of the Eucharist.  The saints lived free and joyful lives.  

Our problem is that the temptations for modern humanity are replete with every devious scheme that the devil can subtly place in our paths.  For us to become a member of that great number of saints, we must be sure that we're listening to—and living—the message of the Gospel and the recommendations of the Vicar of Christ, our pope.

This great feast of All Saints’ Day, and the feast of All Souls that will follow tomorrow—views the Church as one innumerable assembly of people united and graced by God’s love.  A people that includes those of us who live now in this world, who, in the words of the psalms, “long to see God’s face” (Psalm 24:1-6), and those who have gone before us and now see the ultimate source of all life and all joy “face to face.”  At a time of pandemic and much social distress and violence in our world, this feast reminds us of our dignity as daughters and sons of God, a cause for joy and hope.

Where should we start?

 

Love.

No other word in the English language has so many varied definitions or evokes more feelings as the word “love.”  In the course of any particular day people say things like “I love this chair” and “I love this food” or “I love these shoes” or “I love this soap.”  

How can we love a soap?  How do we love a chair?  How can we possibly use the same word to describe our feelings for our daughter, our mother, or each other, that someone else uses to describe a pair of sandals?

It’s no wonder there are wars and poverty and murder and hate!  In our world today, “things” are more valued and worthy of our love than people!  And today in America, right here — right now — the diseases of hate and anger are far more destructive than any virus could possibly be.  Just stop for a moment and take a hard look at what we’re doing to each other… is there even a word to describe it appropriately?

I don’t think there can be a more appropriate Gospel for us right now than the one I’m reflecting on today (Mark12:28-34).  A scribe asks Jesus, “Which is the first of all the commandments?”  Jesus replies, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.  The second is this: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.  There is no other commandment greater than these.” (Mark 12:30-31)

Even after 2000 years, Jesus sets us straight.  He quotes the most sacred statement of Jewish belief, the Shema (Deuteronomy 6:4), reminding us that our deepest love is reserved for God, and God alone.  Then He goes on to point out that we’re called to reveal our love for God in the way we treat others.

Many of us might be saying, “Now just wait a minute, Jesus, this saying is hard: who can accept it? (John 6:60).  You mean I have to love that so-and-so that just cut me off on the freeway?  That I have to love that man who’s begging on the freeway off-ramp, the spouse who betrayed me, or the friend that deeply hurt me?  No way, Jesus.  These people are flat-out not at all worthy of my love.”

What we have to realize is that treating the other person with love has just about nothing to do with their worthiness of our love.  Jesus proved that with the very first strike of the hammer that sent a spike through His flesh and bone.  It’s really about our ability to take the love God has showered on us so abundantly –- even wastefully –- and share it with all those people…all those who cut us off.  All those who are homeless, “dirty,” and outcast.  All those who have betrayed us.  All those who hurt us.

All those who are the faces of Christ.

God calls us to love.  Where should we start?

Maybe by remembering the first two words of the Greatest Prayer, taught to us by Jesus: “OUR Father…”

Then, by thanking God for the great gift of His incredible, unconditional love for us.

I pray that He grants me the grace to give even just 1% of that love to every person I see.  Especially that dummy over there…  and even that big dummy I see in the mirror. Amen.

I yam what I yam, and dat's what I yam!

 

"For everyone who exalts himself shall be humbled, and he who humbles himself shall be exalted." (Luke 14:7-11)

I heard a terrific homily from a missionary priest who was visiting our parish years ago.  He told us that if we want to become perfect, the fastest and shortest route is the way of gratitude.  It’s similar to shooting an arrow toward a target.

Gratitude will keep us honest.  It keeps us humble.  We admit whatever we have has been given us.  We accept the reality of who we are.  Like Popeye, “I yam what I yam, and dat’s what I yam!”  That’s good enough.  It doesn’t make sense to exalt ourselves.  I’m grateful to God to be who I am.

I’m not sure where I first heard it, but there’s a prayer that I try to remember whenever I’m feeling less than humble: "Everything I am, even the way I am, with all my gifts of nature and grace, You have given me, Lord.  And You are all of it.  I offer them back to You to praise You, to help others, and myself."

This is precisely what Jesus did, as we acknowledge at every Sacrifice of the Mass when the priest elevates the consecrated Host (Jesus Christ—Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity) and says, "Through him, with him, in him, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, all glory and honor is yours, Almighty Father, for ever and ever."

Awareness of who we are, and grateful for who we are, will keep us humble.  At least that’s my confident hope and prayer.

Compassion and mercy transcend the law

 

Jesus was having a Sabbath dinner with His biggest critics, the Pharisees.  Their main goal, as always, was to trap Him into breaking some law, to find out what else He was doing wrong.  And so they sat Jesus, the compassionate healer, behind a man afflicted with dropsy, known today as “edema.”   Would Jesus break the law and heal him, they wondered?  Would this be another chance to note an infraction of the rules by Jesus? (Luke 14:1-6)

Pulmonary edema, a condition brought on by heart failure, is the excess collection of watery fluid in the lungs.  The fluid collects in the many air sacs of the lung, making it difficult to breathe.  When the heart is not able to pump blood to the body efficiently, the amount of blood staying in the veins that take blood through the lungs to the left side of the heart increases.  As the pressure in these blood vessels increases, fluid is pushed into the air spaces in the lungs.  This fluid reduces normal oxygen movement through the lungs, which can lead to shortness of breath, and if untreated can lead to death.

A couple of years ago, I took a nasty fall while at work.  I bruised some ribs and experienced a severe shortness of breath for several weeks, having to recover at home, limiting my movements.  As I read the symptoms of “dropsy” as described above, it hit very close to what I felt those two weeks immediately after my fall.

So I can imagine the poor man with dropsy to be suffering from the symptoms just described.  I can imagine the Lord gazing at him with compassion, and then turning to the Pharisees reclining at table, and asking them, “Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath or not?”  After the question, Luke writes, “. . . they remained silent.  He took the man, healed him, and dismissed him.”

Jesus answered His own question by healing the man.  The silence of the Pharisees confirmed that Jesus had communicated His position to them decisively; just as He concisely and pointedly stated it in Mark’s Gospel:  "The Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath” (Mark 2:27).  This turn of events reversed the situation, so that the Pharisees were now trapped, not Jesus.   They were caught in a dilemma, silent because they were unable to answer the Lord’s question.  If they said ‘Yes,’ they would seem to their followers to be lax in their strict interpretation of the law and to compromise their demand that others follow the letter of the law.  If they said ‘No,’ they feared their followers would accuse them of being cruel to the man in contrast to Jesus who was moved by compassion to mercifully cure him.  The Pharisees were frozen in legalism.  In this incident, their small-mindedness is confronted with the large-hearted love of God.

The point of the story, I think, is to realize that compassion and mercy transcend the law and fulfill it.  By His action, Jesus declared this to be the standard underlying the very purpose of the law.  In contrast to the Pharisaic vision of subservience to it, Our Lord provided a vision entirely different, giving priority over the law to the compassion and mercy which He gave and asked others to give throughout His public ministry.

I believe a major part of our mission today as Christians is to ardently pray and, wherever we can, to work for those who suffer greatly in our world: for the victims of global inequality and poverty, for example, or the victims of human trafficking and drug trafficking, of abuse to the earth and to the ecology of the human mind and heart, and of the victims of war.

Like the man with dropsy, we need to see them all with the compassionate eye of Jesus and to creatively develop ways to help them as much as we can with His merciful hand.  This gospel doesn’t ask whether something is legal or illegal.  It speaks to us as obedient sons and daughters of God Who is love, who want to follow in Our Lord’s footsteps, and so to be loving, caring, merciful, and forgiving—which is what God’s law in both the Old and New Testament is all about.

Shared responsibility

In Ephesians we’re told that we’re a part of the Christian family (Ephesians 2:19-22).  Then in the Gospel Jesus calls His Apostles, including Simon and Jude whose feast we celebrate today (Luke 6:12-16).  And we’re part of this family too. We’re all called with them. We’re called to join our voices with the rest who declare the glory of God in the Psalms.  We’re all part of the big family of creation, and we’re part of the smaller Christian family called by Jesus.

We’ve been called.  This is our dwelling place.  This is our home, and we’re part of creation.  In fact, we are creation.  And this Christian family is created by our connection and our faith. We are participants. We are citizens.  We are part of this family, members of the household.  We aren’t strangers.  We belong here.  I like this image of a household, a family.  We’re all in this together and all share responsibility in the household. We’re not strangers; this is our dwelling place, where we live.  But we also can’t depend on someone else to do everything for us; we have to take responsibility for our part of the smooth running of the household.  We’re not guests, not travelers, we live here.  This is our home and our responsibility.

Like the disciples, we are called to follow.  Like the rest of creation, we’re called to declare the glory of God.  And through our faith and praise and our connection with each other, we create a dwelling place of the spirit.  And it’s our responsibility to keep that household running smoothly.

Invisible things

The Nicene Creed is a prayer that succinctly lays out the beliefs of every Catholic Christian.  It’s similar to the Apostles’ Creed, but more ‘nuanced’.  It begins, “I believe in one God; the Father, the Almighty, the Creator of heaven and earth; of all things visible and invisible…..”  My reflection today is on those “visible and invisible things.”

There are invisible things; things that are beyond what we and the world can point to.  The wind that moves the leaves, the breaking heart that evokes the tears, and hope that spurs us on.  Also invisible is the big picture; our life that’s being shaped by today and by the God who desires our happiness and our communion with Him. 

We aren't often allowed to see the big picture.  We usually experience the visible things.  But, in God, all things are held together, visible and invisible.  In Him, we’re able to hope because of the One who sees the invisible things and is able to hold them together and work them together for our good. 

In Paul’s Letter to the Romans, he writes: “We know that all things work for good for those who love God” (Romans 8:26-30).  He seems to be saying by loving God we’re promised only good things in this life.  If one gives oneself to God the Spirit will take over leading us step by step, from one good to another good, and eventually to eternal glory.  That would be the case if Paul’s letter hadn’t added a final condition. “We know that all things work for good for those who love God who are called according to his purpose.”

God doesn’t do things according to whim but with purpose. And He has a definite purpose for each of us.  By fulfilling His purpose we’ll experience “all things working for good.”  In this process of loving God He doesn’t promise it will necessarily be for my personal good.  It may well be for the greater good of all who love God, which would ultimately include me.

Loving God “according to his purpose” could occasionally include suffering.  Suppose a man’s wife is diagnosed with cancer.  That’s not good for his wife or him.  Yet they’ve always willingly loved God according to His purpose.  However, what if this tragedy might have such devastating effects upon their grown children that they’re motivated to reject their evil lifestyles and return to the Lord?  The ultimate salvation of their children might be the “good purpose”; why the Lord allowed the mother’s illness.

For many of us our God is too small.  It’s too easy to forget His purpose for becoming man.  It wasn’t that we might be spared suffering but that we might share in eternal happiness.  And so reluctantly God is willing to allow many things, even sinfulness and tragedy to be part of life, so that His purpose for coming will be fulfilled.  “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son that whoever believes in him may not die but may have eternal life.” (John 3:16)

My ultimate takeaway from Romans 8 is that when life is difficult, as it often is, we have a promise of hope.  And when we pray in our weakness, the Spirit will intervene.  But, the Spirit, of course, is another invisible thing.  So, we thank God for the visible things, but we thank God more for hope which allows us to embrace the invisible things and allows us to live. 

Hope makes a difference

 

The word “hopeless” may be the saddest word in any language.  I’ve never been so low or felt so useless that I ever felt hopeless, yet I’ve known friends who struggled a lot to hold onto hope.  We become spiritually crippled without hope.

St. Paul writes in his Letter to the Romans, “For who hopes for what one sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait with endurance” (Romans 8:18-25).  To be hopeless, then, would mean that we can’t imagine what could be, we can’t imagine anything changing.

Then, in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus comes up with some ways to describe what really is indescribable…the Kingdom of God.  Like Paul, Jesus invites us to hope for what we can’t see.  But it’s there, it’s at work even if we can’t perceive it.  It’s like the tiny mustard seed that, over time, grows to welcome the birds of the sky, or the hidden yeast that silently leavens the dough (Luke 13:18-21).

Hope is much more than wishful thinking, like hoping my team will win the World Series, or that I’ll win the lottery for millions of dollars.  Hope is living our lives as a sower of mustard seeds or as a baker adding yeast to the dough.  The little things we do for others, the kindnesses we share with those we encounter each day, the genuine expression of gratitude to the waiter…all of it is living in hope.  Does our kindness make any difference?  I sure hope it does, even if I may never see it.  Let us live in hope, and live hope each day.

God time

 

The Jesus I contemplated on today is a familiar one, Jesus the healer.  From the time we were children most of us learned about Jesus casting out demons, healing lepers and allowing the lame to walk.  This is a wonderful aspect of Jesus and one that allows us humans to see His divine nature.

But in the Gospel I’m reflecting on today, that aspect of Jesus played only a tangential role.  Almost incredibly, Jesus found Himself criticized for having utilized His divine nature to heal someone.  The reason for the criticism was that a religious leader of the time decided that Jesus was in violation of the rule forbidding working on the Sabbath (Luke 13:10-17).

Rules are an important part of any religion or society.  As a wise man once pointed out to me: “Everyone needs rules.  If you want to see a miserable teenager find one who has no boundaries imposed on him.”

But rules generally only make sense if one references their purpose.  Otherwise they become entirely human artifacts that exist only for their own sake.  In that sense they track the distinction made by Saint Paul: “if you live according to the flesh, you will die, but if by the spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.” (Romans 8:12-17).  Rules as understood and applied by the religious leader in the Gospel are entirely of the flesh; they do nothing to help us achieve the life of the spirit.

The religious leader’s error was that he lost sight of the purpose of the rule. The purpose of the rule forbidding Sabbath work was to allow all to be able to glorify God at least one day a week.  But understanding it as he did, it became a rule that would actually prevent glorifying God as Jesus did by healing the sick woman.

As humans we all struggle with rules.  We break and bend them, often for selfish reasons. But the greatest error is entirely losing sight of their purposes.

When I was growing up, Sunday was when we “made time” for God.  But “God time” was always Sunday; rarely otherwise, except our nightly rosary. 

So when we look at the story in Luke’s Gospel and see Jesus breaking the rules by healing on the Sabbath, we see a redefinition of “God time.”  The religious authority got bent out of shape because Jesus was “working” on the sabbath.  But consider the work He did!  Most of us probably think to ourselves, “can’t the guy even heal on the Sabbath?  What is it about these rules, anyway?”  But then again, when I think of all the leaves I raked, or last-minute homework assignments I did on Sundays I remember thinking, “Wait a minute, we’re not supposed to work!”

The Sabbath, whatever day observes it, is definitely “God time.”  But that’s not the only “God time” there is.  Certainly, in this instance Jesus was no respecter of rules.  He did his Work regardless of the time, or the rule, or the custom.  He taught us by this example that there are other “God times”, too.  Jesus found His “God work” wherever it was.  Just as we should find our own, when and where, and do it.

Living on the edge of God's compassion

 

When W.C. Fields, the humorist and lifelong atheist, was dying in a sanitarium, a nurse was surprised to find him reading the Bible. When she asked him what he was doing, Fields wisecracked, “Looking for a loophole.”

Mark’s Gospel shares with us one of the most wonderful and effective prayers in the New Testament.  “And when he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” (Mark 10:46-52).  In this Gospel, I submit that Bartimaeus found a huge loophole!  “Have mercy on me.”

When I was in 3^rd grade, I got caught stealing a toy in a supermarket that was across the street from my house.  The manager called my mother, and she came over to get me.  After she made me apologize to the manager, she pulled me home by my ear, really angry that I would betray her trust in me and embarrass her to the neighbors.  When we got home, Mom sent me to my room and said, “Wait right here!  Think about what you’ve done!  When your father gets home, we’ll decide what to do with you!”

All kinds of thoughts were running around in my head, not the least of which was “Man, this spanking is going to hurt!”  When Dad came home, I got really scared.  As my father began unbuckling his belt, I began pleading (much like Bartimaeus), “Please, Dad! No! I’m sorry!”  The very moment he was about to let loose on my behind, the phone rang.  Dad said, “Saved by the bell for the moment!” and he left the room to see who it was, forgetting about me for the time being.  It was my Aunt Jenny, Mom’s sister.  Mom told her what I had done.  Aunt Jenny offered to come by and take the both of us to confession right then—me for violating the fourth and seventh commandments, and Mom for losing her temper with me.  By this time, Mom and Dad could see that I was sorry.  And I was.  Truly sorry.  Not because of the punishment I might and ought to receive, but because I had offended her and Dad, by not obeying them and staying out of trouble.  I escaped the spanking that day, learning what a gift mercy is. 

But our trip to the confessional was still made—it was an occasion for me to learn yet another lesson. Sin is sin.  Mom spent as much time in the “box” confessing her anger that day as I did for stealing a toy! We both received God’s mercy and forgiveness. 

We all live on the edge of God’s mercy.  We can’t be afraid to jump into the depth of His kindness.  There’s a great democracy among all of us.  We all exist on the precincts of God’s mercy.  None of us can demand God’s favor!  God’s kindness is not primarily wages due to us for work well done.  All is a pure gift due to the Body of Christ given to us and His Blood poured out for us on the cross.  If this is true for the saints among us how much more for us who are deeply flawed?  It seems to me that I must handle my very deep flaws by basically living on the edge of God’s compassion!

Patience and mercy

“The Spirit of life in Christ Jesus, has freed you from the law of sin and death.” (Romans 8:2)

The whole world is governed by the natural law of entropy, which says that everything eventually decays, everything tends towards disorder.  St. Paul seems to have recognized that it's a whole lot easier to give into the impulses and desires of our flesh-nature then it is to struggle for our spiritual growth.  Disorder is natural and order is unnatural.  Order requires great effort (anyone who lives or has lived with children knows this to be true!).  So, too, in our spiritual lives.  As long as we live in this world, we suffer from the Law of Entropy.  Growth in holiness takes effort; without that effort, our holiness decays. 

“‘I will hoe around it and manure it; then perhaps it will bear fruit.’” (Luke 13:8-9)

If we want to bear fruit, we have to work at it.  We have to nurture our spirit, feed it with the study of God’s word and fertilize it with contemplation so we can grow in the experience of God’s presence within us. So we can learn to love one another as He has loved us.  Without limits, He gave His life for us.  In humility and service, He washed the feet of His disciples.  Without distinction of people, He associated with scribes, tax collectors, and prostitutes.  He calls us His friends.  His prayer at the Last Supper (John 17) shows His concern for us and His passion for unity.

“The tendency of the flesh is toward death, but that of the Spirit toward life and peace.” (Romans 8:6)

Paul tells us that those who live according to the Spirit will have life and peace.  It doesn’t mean that we’ll be spared of all tragedy or pain.  Jesus tells us about two seemingly horrific tragedies that resulted in the loss of life for many.  He makes it clear that those people were not deserving of this type of death because they were sinners (Luke 13:1-9).  If we have life through His Spirit we will experience His peace.

“Lord, this is the people that longs to see your face.” (Psalms 24:6)

If we truly long to see God’s face then we should find it first in our neighbors, our colleagues, our relations, and even our enemies.  We all share the same human conditions, limitations and poverty of spirit.  We need to recognize that we ourselves are the first in need to be forgiven, freed, saved.  We need to recognize that the Spirit of God dwells in each of us, in spite of our failings.  We need to look for the face of God in everyone we encounter, even if we don’t like them, or we think they don’t like us, or they’re different from us.  If we reflect on these truths how will they affect our attitudes?  How will they change our priorities?  How will they shape our actions?

Lord, give us an attitude of understanding, of generosity and of forgiveness towards all.  

Cooperating wit God’s grace

Why is it that when I know what’s right and resolve to do what is good, I find myself again and again doing just the opposite?  I think it’s a pretty universal tendency, so I know that I’m not the only one looking for the answer to this phenomenon.

Saint Paul also struggled to know what causes this behavior.  He spoke of the flesh at war with the spirit.  It’s as though there were two different natures fighting each other in one and the same person.  “Miserable one that I am!” (Romans 7:18-25)

Is it just concupiscence?  Is it an unconscious and innate desire naturally favoring the easier, more selfish, more pleasurable, more apathetic, more exciting, and/or more risky course of action?  Whatever our unique struggle might involve, we can oftentimes become discouraged and give up hope of ever controlling these inordinate desires. 

In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus reminded his listeners that they were good at predicting the weather from present “appearances of the earth and the skies.”  Since this was so, Jesus warns us that it would be hypocritical refusing to foresee and not to predict the results of our cowardly conduct.  And the hypocrisy becomes critical when our conscience refuses to control these divisive tendencies (Luke 12:54-59).

When the struggle involves our concupiscence regarding anger, greed, sloth, lust, gluttony, or other moral failings, we can expect the fight to involve victories and defeats.  But there’s final hope of victory each time our resistance overcomes the evil tendencies.  Obviously it makes us better prepared and a bit stronger for the next encounter.

We have no control over the signs predicting tomorrow’s weather.  But we can in advance somewhat protect ourselves from the consequences.  In regard to our behavioral tendencies, we can not only shield ourselves from their consequences, but cooperating with God’s grace we can even manage to control the destructive signs.  With Paul we may ask: “Who will deliver me from this mortal body? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!”

The fire of love

Jesus said to the crowds, “I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled!” (Luke 12:49-53)

Jesus is enthusiastic about fulfilling His Father’s mission for Him.  The word “fire” refers to Jesus’ energy and momentum to conduct His mission which is spreading the Good News.  Jesus has called each of us to continue His mission of proclaiming and spreading the Good News of love and healing.  It’s important for us to pray for the gifts, courage, and zeal to continue Jesus’ mission to transform the world with the “fire” of His love.

This gospel teaches us that Jesus’ Good news is prophetic and like most prophetic messages, not all will respond to it in a positive manner.  Jesus came to bring love, unity, and peace not division but as the gospel suggests not all will embrace Jesus’ message and His message will cause division even among family members.

Jesus challenges us to ask ourselves what are we enthusiastic about; is it our work, our sports, our hobbies?  Are we as passionate as Jesus about our calling to continue the mission of spreading the fire of the Good News of love, forgiveness, unity, and peace? Am I nonchalant and lukewarm about God’s personal call to me to spread the “fire” of the Kingdom to all?  Do I fear what other people might think or say about me? 

Sharing the love of God

The two small bits of the New Testament I reflected on today—Paul writing to the Christians in Rome (Romans 6:12-18) and Luke passing on a parable about a household manager (Luke 12:39-48)–are full of talk about slaves and slavery.  Paul describes himself as a slave of Christ, where in other letters of his we hear him call himself a servant of Christ.  We even hear Jesus Himself using that image: “Whoever will be first among you will be the slave of all” (Mark 10:44).

As I think about these passages, I wonder what Paul and Jesus and Luke mean by this unattractive, embarrassing, slave imagery.  I think that every human being, consciously or unconsciously, allows himself or herself to be governed by something.  In that sense, we’re all “slaves” to something.  Think of the possibilities: one can organize one’s life around making money, or around maintaining the best possible physical health, or about gaining more and more power over other people, or about having the most “toys,” or about achieving vengeance over enemies, or about raising a family, or about excelling as an artist or an athlete or a scholar; and this is just a sampling.  Obviously, some of these things are sinister and others are good.  But, good or evil, if any one of these things becomes the sole focus of our allegiance, we’re “enslaved” to that thing or person.  The only way to freedom is to become “enslaved” to the One who loves us completely—God.  Then everything else falls into place.  That’s why Jesus says that total allegiance to God, as taught by Deuteronomy 6:4 and expressed by Christians in the Lord’s Prayer (thy kingdom come, thy will be done) is the “first commandment” and one way to freedom.

This paradox is the reason that Jesus can symbolize our human situation as like that of a steward (or head household slave), who has been given authority or responsibility over others in the household to implement the flourishing of the household as a whole.  And that’s why the greatest temptation for us stewards is to forget that we’re servants of the Master of the household and fall for the delusion that we ourselves are the master of the house.  When we discover the liberty of being “slaves of God” becoming “slaves” of one another (Jesus’ expression) is no bondage at all but a sharing of the love of God. 

Vigilance

 

No matter how nasty things seem, God's grace will always prevail.  I want to trust in that.  But the world makes it difficult.  I want to be awake to God's love and power.

But there is violence, war, harm that comes to children, to the innocent.  Sometimes the world seems powerless to protect us from the cheat, the backstabber, the rage-addicted bully who holds the position of power.

Saint Paul tells us that no matter how dark, no matter how bleak the landscape, God's light will rule.  All that is required of me is to endure, wait with faith and hope, and be watchful.  To be awake, alert and prepared.  To put first things first. (Romans 5:12-21)

In a world where every new day brings a new tale of loss, brutality or disappointment, how do I get beyond these gut-wrenching spectacles and put first things first?

In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus uses the example of vigilant servants waiting for their master's return.  They’re ready, alert, living their lives with the faithful expectation that the master will be back.  They’re not distracted. (Luke 12:35-38)

Sometimes the world distracts me.  Sometimes I lose sight of why I am here.  Sometimes I can’t stay awake.  To be vigilant, to avoid living in the kind of stupor that’s inculcated by my rushed and harried life, is more than I can do alone.

This is where God helps me.

“Be vigilant at all times and pray.” (Luke 21:36).  We never know what’s going to happen.  We never know when we will be called upon.  We need to be ready for anything any time.  We don’t know the time, the hour or the day.  The servants don’t know when their master will return, so they need to be ready any time.  Even if he comes back in the middle of the night, they need to be ready to do what he needs.  If he comes in the night and finds them asleep, he won’t be pleased to have to wake them.  But if he comes in the night and they’re waiting up, ready to do what he needs right away he’ll be pleased.  He will be so pleased that he’ll reward them.

I’m reminded of the dozens of times when the word came down from my superiors that the “mucky-mucks” were going to be visiting my locations for compliance with programs, policy, and procedures.  My first reaction was, for a long time, to worry and sweat and complain that I wouldn’t be ready for them.  It took years for me to realize that if I was simply doing my job to the best of my ability and serving the customer first, I had nothing to prepare for, and nothing to fear when ‘company’ arrived.

We need to be like the servants who are ready for their master at any moment because we don’t know the moment.  When Jesus comes for us, we need to be ready.  We need to be able to say, “Here I am, Lord; I come to do your will.” (Psalm 40:8-9).  We need to be vigilant at all times.  We need to be ready when the Lord comes.  We can’t be asleep; we can’t assume we have more time.  We don’t know the time, so we need to be ready anytime, ready to do His will.

Becoming harvesters

 

“…The harvest is abundant…I am sending you…into whatever household you enter, first say, Peace…” (Luke 10:1-9)

When I read this Gospel today, I thought of the crops that are usually more abundant in the fall season.  I thought of squash in all of its varieties: zucchini, acorn, pumpkin.  In my (limited) experience, once planted the leaves arrive quickly, and you watch, and watch and watch – you don’t see anything, then all of a sudden – you can’t pick them fast enough!

The harvest is abundant…the world is ready… for the Good News of the Gospel!  Words of hope, love, forgiveness; words that assure us that there’s a way to live together, to trust that we’re truly a connected people – brothers and sisters in Christ.  The world is ready for the despair of today to be turned upside down – ready for transformation.

And God sends us!  Those who have heard the Word, who have cultivated an intimate relationship with God, those who live in hope!  God sends us to be His presence in the world – to preach with our person, our attitudes, our hopefulness, our very presence.  God sends us!  Whatever our message, whatever our actions, whatever our demeanor—we need to be sure that it is of God and not of us.  We are vessels for God’s peace to enter our world.

The world is ready! We just need to keep watching, looking beneath the surface, leading with peace. We just may be surprised by the yield.  We may need help harvesting.  We may even be able to share the excess, God willing!

Drinking from the same cup

 

In Mark’s Gospel, James and John asked Jesus, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” Jesus asked them, “What do you wish me to do for you?”  I can almost hear the innocent, naïve eagerness in their voices as they pled—expecting Jesus to comply, “Grant … in your glory we may sit one at your right and the other at your left.”  (Mark 10:35-45)

Being number 4 of 5 brothers myself, I have to admire their spunk; they beat their brother apostles to the punch.  They asked first!  Possibly they thought, “this is an easy request.  Someone has to sit there, why not us?”

My first thought is exactly that. James and John were two men who walked miles with Jesus; slept next to Him at the end of a long, hard day; fished with Him; laughed, maybe even cried with Him.  Brothers who listened to Jesus’ daily exhortations to love and care for others, especially the poor and outcast.  Brothers who broke bread and shared limited resources with Jesus and others.  Two who witnessed Jesus curing the sick and lame, healing the broken hearted, the lost and the yearning.  Often they understood little of what was happening.  They knew only that they wanted always to be as close to Jesus as possible. Jesus who gently and sincerely loved everyone He encountered: sick, homeless, hungry – even the politicians of the day.

Jesus asked them, “Can you drink the cup that I drink?”  As I often do when reflecting on the gospels, I ask, “What exactly does this mean for me?”  “When have I been so attracted to someone (or their message) that I felt I would give almost anything for the opportunity to meet that person?”   It’s funny, but the Pope (whether John XXIII, Paul VI, John Paul, John Paul II, Benedict VI, or Francis) is that person for me.  And I’ve been blessed to be in the actual presence of two Popes—JPII and Francis!

Like the “Sons of Thunder”, I see myself joyfully, enthusiastically reaching out to touch the Pope’s hand, his garment.  I hear Pope Francis’ bold, challenging yet gentle words, but am I really listening?  I watch to see how others—the ones he’s really speaking to—respond.  Will his words change the way they do things?  The way we do things?  The way I do things?  Have I been listening to the gospel words of Jesus for the past 68 years? Have I?

As the Vicar of Christ on Earth today, Pope Francis is speaking Jesus’ words of compassion for the poor, personal generosity of time and resources, concern and care for the homeless, the poor and for our planet, our natural resources – nothing new, nothing the gospels don’t proclaim.   Jesus spoke this message on the plain, from the mountaintop, in the garden, at a table, and in the midst of political crowds.  The Pope continues to speak Jesus’ message- in a plane, on a bus, from a balcony, in a prison, while eating with the homeless, in the public forum, from an improvised altar in the middle of a sports stadium.

The message is the same.

We are a beloved people to whom Jesus offers love.  A love we’re meant to share and spread.  How do I receive this gift of love which Jesus offers to me?  How do I receive the challenging, yet gentle words offered by Pope Francis?  Am I sharing the little I may have?   Am I generous with my financial and personal resources of time and talent, what little I may have?  Do I invite the hungry child to my table?  Do I see my homeless brother?  Do I listen to my sister’s story?   The Pope’s encouragement gives me hope and inspiration that I can do something, no matter how slight.   What I could do is….    What I would really like and enjoy doing with and for my brother and sister is…..    I want to offer….   Just entering into the conversation, I realize how much I do have to share.  I am bountifully blessed – what little I may have.  I have hope.

I realize that my attraction to Pope Francis (and any past or future Popes) is but a spark of Jesus’ attraction to me.  His cup is continually being poured out and offered to me in untold ways - sometimes bold and challenging, sometimes gentle and inspirational.  Jesus holds the cup while I sip.  I simply have to drink.  

Join the club

 

Groucho Marx once said: “I would never join a club that would accept someone like me as a member.”

Exclusivity – it’s everywhere. Identity can be as much as who you are not as who you are, who you won’t eat with as who you will, who you won’t pray and play with as who you will.

Yet the Scripture I focused on today invites us not to exclusivity but to inclusivity.

The people of Israel considered themselves a separate people, chosen especially by God.  And indeed that was how God designated them.  But Paul reminds us that Abraham was blessed by God to be the father of many (not one) nations and that we’re all descendants of Abraham in the spirit if not in the flesh and all share in the status of chosen people (Romans 4:13-18).

Jesus speaks a complicated set of sayings in Luke’s Gospel: all those who believe in Jesus and witness to this belief are part of the Kingdom.  But there’s also a turn—those who reject the Holy Spirit separate themselves from God (Luke 12:8-12).

Inclusivity and exclusivity are not absolutes and opposites but also relative and relations terms.  The people of Israel are indeed the chosen people and are loved unconditionally by God, but they’re also judged and reprimanded insofar as they obey and serve their God.  Jesus invites everyone into the Kingdom unconditionally but also asks that they behave in certain ways too.  Jesus tells a lot of stories about who is included such as wise maidens (Matthew 25:1-13) and the poor and who is excluded such as foolish maidens and the rich (Luke 12:16-21) – all are invited but whether they’re ultimately included or excluded has to do with how they treat one another.

We’re all invited to the table, but we’re asked to be good guests – to care for those around us, acknowledge the right of all to be there, share what we have, and to make room.  Anyone who has a large family knows a lot about making room.  When I was a kid, we often had a lot of friends or relatives over to the house as dinner guests.  My parents would make room for them by setting up a “kid’s table”—often a card table or tv trays set up in another room of the house.  I often felt that having someone eat in another part of the house was just not right, no matter how old they were.  Squeezing at the table is not always comfortable but it’s infinitely comforting.

Clearly we’re to work for inclusivity—to recognize Christ in all, to invite all to Christ.  It’s not for us to exclude, to judge, to reject.  And, as Jesus reminds us, if some should leave the table, invite them back, put a ring on their fingers and bring out a calf (Luke 15:11-32).  It’s Jesus’ place, not ours, to ultimately judge who belongs to the kingdom.  We can take comfort in the fact that ours is a judge who looks for the missing coin, the lost sheep, the person up in the tree—and ours is a judge who rejoices with heaven when we are found and brought home (Luke 15).

I’m not so sure about Groucho, but I would certainly join a club that would accept anyone, even me, as a member.

Open secrets

 

“There is nothing concealed that will not be revealed, nor secret that will not be known.” (Luke 12:2)

My Scripture reading today speaks to me of trust – especially the watchful, waiting, careful listening and attentiveness that faith invites me to.

In Luke, after scathing criticism of the Pharisees in the previous verses (Luke 11:37-54), Jesus turned His attention to His disciples (Luke 12:1-7).  They were probably expecting praise and encouragement, but what they received was an admonishment: “Don’t be misled by the double standards of the Pharisees”, something they’ve certainly heard before. “Be careful who you follow…. the Pharisees may look fine in their robes, may be eloquent in speech, knowledgeable of the law, and seem to be all about the things of God, but appearances can be deceiving.”

The disciples may have been puzzled; they were still learning about the One that Jesus knew so intimately.  They may have wondered to each other… “What’s He got against the Pharisees?  Aren’t they dedicated religious, our spiritual leaders?”  I doubt that the next few obscure declarations --that what is secret will be revealed and what is said in darkness will be heard in the light – would have helped them much.  “What’s he talking about?”

But maybe later in the day, while cleansing and following ritual purity laws, or playing with their children, or conversation over a meal, Jesus’ words returned to them.  “Ah, I wonder if that’s what Jesus was referring to.”  Maybe I need to be more careful about what I label as “good” or “holy” and more discerning of the qualities I admire in spiritual leaders.  Maybe I need to take time to reflect on the impact my actions have on others – is it what I intend?

Paul’s letter to the Romans (Romans 4:1-8) reminds us also that what’s important is sometimes elusive or even hidden.  Abraham was “justified” …declared “good”... because of his faith.  He was blessed because of his trust in the promise of God, not in his own accomplishments, however good they might be.

Autumn changes are wonderful images for reflecting on trust and goodness.  As the leaves fall, we see the stark, naked beauty of tree limbs and trunks; as flowers die, skeleton shrubs remain; both are reminders that what sustained and nourished life these past months of summer was hidden until now.

For me, it begs the questions:  How does God sustain my life, and the lives of those I love, in ways that I can’t see?  How does God nourish me and those I love in ways that aren’t dependent on what I “do”?

Mercy and fullness of redemption

With the Lord there is mercy and fullness of redemption… (Psalm 130:7)

..all have fallen short and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus. (Romans 3:21-30)

Grace.  What an awesome gift!  How wonderful that God gives far beyond what we could possibly deserve.  Today—any day, really—is a good day to reflect on the wonderful gifts of grace that Jesus so freely grants.   St. Paul’s letter to the Romans includes many familiar verses that discuss this awesome love of our God and the amazing depths of God's mercy.  For many, the verses provide familiar and meaningful images of the mystery of atonement that deserve a second, slow, reflective reading.  For others, the reading may become more meaningful if images of redemption that resonate with our culture are substituted for the images of blood sacrifice and atonement that seem much more remote to us.  What are modern images of redemption that can help us reflect on this awesome grace of God?  Maybe debts paid in full?  A chance to redo an assignment or project with no penalty?  A purging of all records of past mistakes? 

Jesus offers redemption and grace and makes it clear that we’re to go and do likewise.  The gospel I read today offers one of His many warnings of the dangers of failing to do so.  We are to offer reconciliation or redemption to others.  We’re to offer grace by giving of ourselves above and beyond that which is "deserved" by others (Luke 11:47-54).  When we fail to do so, we become judgmental, self-righteous, and harsh.  We set up unreasonable standards and withhold reconciliation, love, knowledge, or hope from others who fail to meet those standards.  We forget the many ways in which we have received grace and opportunities for redemption and come to believe that we have every reason to boast and to remain firm in keeping out all whom cannot meet these standards.  The assurance of grace and redemption in Romans and in Psalm 130 can give us the courage to consider the ways in which we may be withholding grace and reconciliation from others today.  Gratitude for the grace and redemption of Jesus can renew our commitment to find ways to offer grace and redemption to others in the busyness of our day today.

One last closing thought: Our lives are God’s gift to us, what we do with our lives is our gift to God. 

Both/and

 

In the midst of life’s complexities, and especially when it pertains to politics, many of us resort to an approach to life that might be called “all or nothing.”  Striking a balance in life can seem so difficult that we want to rest on one side or the other.  There have been times in my life when I was so immersed in a special project at work that I would completely let go of family functions or friendships or good relaxation.  I sunk myself into my job, but then my personal life and the lives of my loved ones suffered.

Among the “woes” dealt out to the Pharisees, Jesus accused them of their own version of “all or nothing.”  They scrupulously observed laws dealing with paying tithes, but, according to Jesus, neglected “justice and the love of God.”  Although we would be tempted to heap scorn on the Pharisees, tell them to give up paying those tithes and get on with the more important concerns of justice and love, Jesus had a different approach.  He told them, “These are the things you should practice [justice and love] without omitting the others [the tithes].” (Luke 11:42-46)

Jesus’ advice is a healthy corrective to the tendency to see the Church world divided into those who are truly observant in terms of prayer forms, church attendance, financial support, etc., and those who truly practice works of justice and love.  This tendency can lead to one group looking critically at the other.  Jesus would invite us to see the importance of both--indeed, to see them springing from the same heart.  Hearts on fire with the love of God, expressed in praise and worship, ought to be aflame with love and works of justice.  It’s not “all or nothing” but “both/and.”