She knows our pain

 

We occasionally come across people who have that special quality—the ability to listen deeply; a sense of peace in their lives; a deep compassion that shows itself quietly.  Their sense of faith and trust in God is palpable and they’re the people we will turn to instinctively when we need help.  Oftentimes we discover later that these remarkable people are ones who have suffered great loss and have found some meaning for their lives in it.

We all have pain and suffering in our lives.  As this year has proven, even the most privileged of us have to deal with this very human experience.  We all face the death of a beloved family member at some point in our lives, and it’s especially devastating when it’s a child.  Part of life is our own aging and diminishment and a growing awareness of our physical and mental frailty or the worries we have about our children, our grandchildren and other family members.  The profound disappointments of life—the state of our marriages; the reality of the youthful life dreams we once had; or perhaps disappointment in the decisions made by our children—are part of the experience of so many of us.  Sometimes there’s the anxiety of waiting for the results of medical tests and the unknown changes to our family and us if the results are bad.

Beyond the scope of our own personal world, we see poverty and racial strife in our own cities, mistrust and conflict among our national leaders and an entire world torn by COVID, wars, racial and religious divisions, and a terrible mistreatment of women and children.  How do we live with this, share this experience, or make sense of it?

The Blessed Mother Mary is a woman who has suffered deeply in life. This is a very real and very human Mary, who understands our losses and tragedies.

When Simeon met Mary and Joseph in the Temple and saw the infant Jesus, he knew that Jesus was “destined for the fall and rise of many in Israel,” but Simeon also was predicting that Jesus’ life would cause Mary tremendous sorrow (Luke 2:22-35).  She had the pain and emptiness as her Son left their home and town for the unknown life of a teacher (Luke 3:23).  Not only did she probably miss His presence, but she also had to open her heart and ask God to help her let go.  She knew her Son needed to leave and fulfill His call, but she didn’t always understand it.  Her confidence in Him was clear as she paved the way for her Son’s first miracle at the wedding in Cana.  (John 2:1-11)

She saw Him move out farther into the region, accompanied by an unimportant group of followers that puzzled some.  She listened as Jesus became more outspoken against the religious authorities.  Her stomach probably had a knot that was hard to ignore as she heard the growing grumbling against Him from those who were threatened.  Finally, she was there as He was arrested, humiliated, and executed. This was her Son, once her cherished little boy, now the beloved man with whom she had such a deep bond of love and faith.  She watched as He was spit on and tortured and finally endured the crucifixion. While other followers ran, Mary stood there at the foot of the cross, looking up at her son’s agonizingly slow death.

Before He died on the cross for us though, Jesus left us in good hands.  He has given us the best of mothers (of course, I’m not discounting our own Moms, who probably come pretty close), one who is always available to listen to us, no matter where we are, no matter when we need her.  Mary is always "on call" for us 24/7.  She loves us and she’ll always hear us and pray for us, because we are her children, as well.

Best of all, Mary always guides us to her Son.  "Do whatever He tells you," she told the waiters at the wedding feast of Cana (John 2:5). Those words too are for us, too.

With Mary as our mother, as our confidant, our guide, and our special advocate, we can't go wrong!

Through Him we are saved

"With their patience worn out by the journey, the people complained against God and Moses.” (Numbers 21:4b-9)

I can relate to this, as I think many of us can in this most unusual of times.  The life of faith often seems like a long trip in the desert.  At times it can seem to bring small reward, and in the midst of the struggle, the memory of slavery in “Egypt” can seem more attractive than God’s promise of freedom.  All who walk the path of discipleship will pass through this desert.  Indeed, the experience of wandering in a desert bereft of God’s presence is so common in the Christian life that our tradition has a name for it.  The desert fathers called it the “noon-day demon.” The demon was not so much a little devil with horns as it was a description of the powerful temptation to leave the path to holiness.  The temptation can take many forms, and if we yield to it, we risk becoming bitter and alienated from God.  How odd it is that following God can lead to bitterness and alienation, but it can.

The only real response to the noon-day demon is prayer and patience.  We must focus our gaze upon Jesus and what He has done.  We need to remember the cross and the resurrection and resist becoming dulled to its power and promise.

The words of St. Paul to the Philippians (Philippians 2:6-11) and of Jesus to Nicodemus (John 3:13-17) are especially meaningful for us today.  They tell us that God loves us all.  That includes those who are suffering.  In spite of what other people (or natural occurrences) do to add to their suffering, God loves them.  And because God loves them, there’s hope.  Suffering people who believe in God and appreciate His love have the great hope of salvation.  Human suffering is just that, it’s human or finite.  Human suffering will come to an end as our lives here on earth come to an end.  But God’s bright promise of eternal life is for all who believe in Him. That includes those who are suffering.  Today as we suffer from everything from COVID to injustices to deadly fires to violence and hatred, let’s work to relieve the suffering of those around us.  And let’s also thank God for His love for all of us. 

One way we can do that (as always) is through prayer and reflection on His Holy Cross. “We should glory in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, for he is our salvation, our life and our resurrection; through him we are saved and made free.” (Gal 6:14)

I had a rather simple reflection on the Cross as I gazed at the crucifix on my rosary tonight:

The vertical beam of the cross represents our love for God simply because He is.  The horizontal beam represents our love of our neighbor, as we love ourselves.  They come together to form the cross that Christ died on for our salvation.

The horizontal beam can’t bear the weight of Christ’s sacrifice without the vertical beam of our love for God.  We must follow the Law in the right order—to Love God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength; only then are we able, with His Grace, to love our neighbor.  It was out of total, uninhibited love of God the Father that Christ, in His humanity, found the grace and the strength to die for all of mankind for all time.   

If you want mercy and forgiveness, give it!

 

Upon reflection of the readings for the twenty-fourth Sunday of Ordinary Time, there’s a series of rather strict injunctions in the Book of Sirach (Sirach 27:30--28:7).  There is what seems to be a bit of quid-pro-quo; when we forgive, then when we pray for mercy, we’ll receive it.  We’re encouraged to remember how we’ll feel as we near death.  We should remember God’s commandments and God’s covenant of love. 

The Old Testament reading is a good tie-in to the gospel of Matthew (Matthew 18:21-35), when Jesus used Peter's question about exactly how many times that he, and we, are to forgive our brothers and sisters.  Of course, Jesus didn’t give a straight answer with which Peter, and we, could argue.  He described a story from which Peter, and we can draw our own answer.

An owner desiring to settle all claims and debts has compassion on a servant who had a large debt and was unable to make any repayment.  Upon his total acquittal, the same servant seized his fellow servant who owed him a lesser amount and when that servant begged for patience, he was refused and thrown into prison.

We get the picture pretty quickly, but Jesus, wanting to emphasize his point, continued.  Other servants report this matter to the owner who confronts the first servant with the reminder of how the servant had been forgiven his debts which were large, but he couldn’t forgive his fellow servant a lesser debt.  The result was that the owner had the servant handed over to be tortured until the whole debt is paid.  Jesus then turned to Peter, and us, and says that this is how things will play out for us when we will be forgiven to the extent that we have forgiven others from our hearts. 

Obviously, seventy times seven is a biblical exaggeration, making a reference to the unlimited scope of God’s forgiveness of us which we are to reflect in our dealings with those who have trespassed against us.  I have a somewhat humorous anecdote about this exaggeration, that I just realized.  One of my childhood friends tended to, shall we say, test his mother’s patience.  After one particularly trying day, she said to him, “That’s four-hundred and eighty-nine!”, meaning he was pretty close to being grounded if he didn’t stop his behavior.  I never put two and two together about what she was talking about until I read today’s Scripture!  

We have the faculty of memory which can be long and exact, especially about our having been injured in some way.  Forgiving is not the same as asking our memory to delete past hurts.  Because we remember so well, we assume we haven’t really forgiven.   We can easily call up the video and sound bites of those incidents which call for forgiving.  We can likewise go through the whole painful experience again in our emotions, but that doesn’t mean we haven’t forgiven.  This is hard for us.

Perhaps forgiving is not an emotional release from the awareness of the injury or injustice, but revealed when we live with the lumps, bumps and dents with less anger dominating our spirits and actions.  Memory can seem to hurt us, but it’s also part of our spiritual freedom from resentment.

We can pray with the memory that we’ve been forgiven by God and hopefully by others.  We may have to be more exact about how we’ve trespassed against others and how we’ve received compassionate mercy from them.  This may help us reduce the immensity, in our hearts’ eyes, of the injuries done to us.

There may be injuries we just can’t forgive right now and so we pray for patience with ourselves.  Our severity of judgement most often injures ourselves and not those who originally hurt us.  We’re to remember that though our memories are long, life is short.  We’re to pray with the reality of God’s commandments, God’s covenantal love and according to the Gospel, if we take our resentments to the grave, then God won’t take them away after death.  Does that make God severe?  It seems that with our own grudges in one hand and our severe sense of justice in the other, there wouldn’t be any room for God to offer peace and eternal welcome.

The message here is that God has been personally caring for each human being with forgiveness, guidance and intense love and these reminders will help us in turn to be equally caring, forgiving and loving.

There's something about Mary.....

We all know someone who has the name of Mary, or some variation of it.  My wife’s name is Marilyn.  My mom used the name Marie as her middle name, although her birth certificate listed her name as Marie Angela.  My sister-in-law is named Marilyn.  My son-in-law’s mother’s name is Maria.  Barack and Michelle Obama named one of their daughters Malia, another variation.  Mariah is pretty popular these days, as well.  Mary is one of the most common names in any language.  And there’s a good reason for it!

Honoring Mary’s name is a way of calling her into our presence!  And what a presence it is!  She is “full of grace” (Luke 1:28)!  And the fact that she accompanied the disciples, in person or virtually, from the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, through His Passion and Death, burial, Resurrection, and Ascension into heaven only serves to heighten our awareness of that grace in our midst.  She was “there” through all of it.

Jesus tells us that “a good person, out of the store of goodness in his heart produces good fruit.” (Luke 6:43-49)   Some of those who had been at the crucifixion came to the tomb to bury Him properly.  This was Mary’s Son, after all!  They went to the tomb to wash and clean Him, to anoint Him.  They knew that He’d been buried in a hurry.  Before sunset, there had been no time to do anything but put Him in the tomb.  He had to be taken care of.  This was Mary’s Son.   Simple acts of compassionate kindness made them do this.  They just couldn’t leave Him like that.

Mary was present in their hearts and this gave them greater initiative to do this act of respect, which they had learned from Him!  Even though they knew about the resurrection, His life had begun in them, a life that manifested itself not only in all kinds of extraordinary things but the ways their lives had changed.  The awareness of Mary’s “presence” enabled them to find new meaning and immense joy, always pointing in humility to her Son, Jesus.

So we continue to honor and proclaim the name of Mary, in everything that we undertake; in doing so, we’re furthering the salvation of the world, that is, living for others and promoting peace, forgiveness and justice from the store of goodness inspired through Mary.

Hail Mary, full of Grace! 

It's time to get to work

 

Today, my thoughts are filled with the incredible tension that exists in society today.  I wonder if that tension is what gives rise to the terrible “cancel culture” that’s developed, where we judge our fellow humans based on the one worst thing that they have ever said or done, without ever first considering our own flaws.  It’s so easy to get discouraged by this because we all have faults.  I wouldn’t want to be judged by my fellow humans on the one worst thing I’ve ever said, and I’d bet a million dollars that you probably wouldn’t either.  It’s because our humanity is the sum-total of our works, and any judgement of that comes not in this life, but in the next.

In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus poses the question: “Can a blind person guide a blind person?”  (Luke 6:39-42)   The answer, of course, is no!  As human beings, we’re far too blinded by our own shortcomings to be able to sit in judgement of others.  But, like many things, it’s easier said than done.   After all, so many things can get in the way.  Traits of our humanity, such as ego, implicit bias, a fear of being revealed as imperfect; these can all obscure our view of the world, and it has all led to the many societal injustices that have plagued mankind since mankind was able to keep track of societal injustices.

Jesus answered his question about the blind leading the blind by declaring that “no student is superior to the teacher”.   Rather, Jesus said that “when fully trained every disciple will be like his teacher.”  We build up humanity not by judging others, but by striving for the model that Jesus provides.  And when we take a greater interest in our own journey toward that ideal, and when we remove that plank from our own eye one splinter at a time, that’s when we’re more able to lift each other up for the greater good.

It's definitely not comfortable or even easy, but we need to learn to embrace each other, ugly faults and all, and get to the work at hand, which is love, understanding, and mercy.

Knowing and Loving

 

It seems that we’ve increasingly been sucked into an “us” vs. “them” state with no middle ground.  So many people act as if anyone who disagrees deserves to be villainized, demeaned, ridiculed, accused, and cut off.  Even scientists receive threats, sometimes against their lives, when objective facts they present are inconvenient or not in tune with already-determined beliefs.  There’s no reaching across, reaching down, reaching out and bringing in.

This is the absolute antithesis of what Jesus taught.  It’s more centered on protecting individual or group power than on living the Gospel and working toward the common good of all.  It’s anti-Christian, anti-Catholic, and above all sinful.

We must examine ourselves for ways in which we contribute to the very things we decry.  And then we must start the desired change with ourselves, deciding what we can do to work toward a better end goal in our own life while encouraging that change in others.

God knows us intimately beyond our comprehension.  This knowing shows God’s love for us and calls us to respond in kind.  Paul warns the Corinthians that knowledge can lead to arrogance and callous indifference to people who are weaker in their faith (1 Corinthians 8:1-13).  Knowledge that frees me from considering the need to build up others hardly deserves the name “knowledge.”  In this case, knowledge was working against love, instead of with it.  Knowledge of the past experiences of others in Corinth with idol worship could instead have been used to help the Christians consider their actions more carefully.  Similarly, learning about other cultures today can help us to understand better how to be more loving in our workplaces, community, nation, and world – if the focus remains on building up others.

Love requires restricting our freedom in order to avoid actions that may hamper others’ development (Corinthians).  Knowing how to do this requires learning about those who see your actions.  Knowing and loving go hand in hand.  Jesus tells us how much farther love must go (Luke 6:27-38).  Jesus knows us well and knows that we may get inflated with pride when we consider how well we love our families and those who treat us well.  He challenges us to see that living the love commandment means so much more.  It’s a hard teaching, to love your enemies.  But Jesus goes even further!  We’re to love our enemies and do good to them.  I’d rather stay away from my enemies and “love” them from afar!  Doing good to them will require that we get to know them.

The words of Jesus at the beginning of the dialogue in Luke stand out as a call to us today.  Jesus directs the entire dialogue on love to “you who hear.”  Jesus knows how easy it is for us to simply not hear.  I want to be one who hears and who loves.  There’s a Psalm that offers wonderful words for asking the Spirit to show us the ways in which we still don’t hear and to guide us back into the way of love more completely.

Probe me, O God, and know my heart;

Try me, and know my thoughts;

See if my way is crooked,

And lead me in the way of old. (Psalm 139: 23-24)

Guide me, Lord, along the everlasting way.

Jesus always went to the heart. That’s why he preached love of enemies, doing good for those who persecute you, refusing to condemn and instead offering peace and understanding.  As he said, “For the measure with which you measure will in return be measured out to you.”  (Luke 6:38)

Laughing and dancing our way to Heaven

In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus prays at important moments of his life – His Baptism, when He taught the forgiveness of sin (Luke 3:21), at the Transfiguration (Luke 9:28-36) and beginning of the Passion (Luke 22:39-46).  He also prayed just prior to selecting the twelve who would become the apostles.  Having prayed and called the apostles, they came down the mountain and were surrounded by a large crowd.  Jesus healed everyone.  Then He looked at His disciples, His followers, and spoke the Beatitudes in what is called the Sermon on the Plain (Luke 6:20-26).

Jesus began His ministry, announcing the fulfillment of Isaiah, ‘to bring good news to the poor and liberty to captives.’ (Isaiah 61:1, Luke 4:18)   Through word and deed, He set to work proclaiming the Kingdom of God.  Speaking as a prophet, He described the values necessary for those who will work for the Kingdom of God.  They will believe that the poor will be rich, the hungry satisfied, the weeping will laugh, and those whose values are rejected, who are pushed to the margins and called evil, they will be like the prophets of old. They will receive the reward of the prophets.

For Luke, Jesus is a prophet, and those who follow Jesus will share His calling.  Expect a surprise; there will be a great reversal.  Woe to the rich and satisfied, those now laughing, and the false prophets!

It might do us a world of good to imitate Jesus this week and surround our reflections on the Beatitudes with prayer.  The Beatitudes are real and among us today. It’s not just those trapped in war or made refugees who are poor and hungry.  The pandemic has spread hunger and poverty along with illness. Weeping is close at hand.  Weeping follows suffering and pain, but anger follows next – for the good or for the bad – to redress the causes of suffering.  We’re dealing with the anger of much frustration. Values are rejected, people are marginalized, and judgments passed.  Many ‘deaths,’ not just the physical deaths, but things that touch the control of many aspects of life that we take for granted, cause us sorrow.  The pandemic we expect—and hope—will bring about new scientific understanding and health.  We hope there’ll be a deepening knowledge of our human family that even as values are tested, we’ll grow closer together in community.

The Beatitudes tell us we’ll ‘laugh.’  Scripture scholars tell us that’s the only use of that word in the New Testament.  And we will ‘dance.’  The word used here is the same as when John ‘leaped’ in the womb of Elizabeth upon the visit of Mary (Luke 1:39-56), who carries the Savior in her womb.  Strong but simple words in the Beatitudes.  It might be helpful to read them alongside our newspapers these days—hopeful blessings alongside worrisome news.  Jesus said them looking at His disciples; let us surround them with prayer and turn our hope-filled faces to Our Lord, as well. 

Happy Birthday to a very ordinary, but special woman!

We all love to celebrate birthdays.  Today we celebrate the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, our dear mother.  In December we honor her Immaculate Conception.  In January we celebrate her as the Mother of God.  In August we celebrate her Assumption into Heaven and there are many other days throughout the year where we honor a unique aspect of her life.  But today is simply her birthday celebration!

Celebrating her birthday is a way of celebrating her personhood.  We celebrate her simply for being herself.  We don’t necessarily focus in on any of the unique, beautiful, and profound aspects of her life today.  We don’t necessarily look at all she accomplished, her perfect yes to God, her coronation in Heaven, her assumption, or any other specifics.  All parts of her life are glorious, beautiful, awe-inspiring, and worthy of their own unique feasts and celebration.

Today we simply celebrate our Blessed Mother because she was created and brought into this world by God and that alone is worth celebrating.  We honor her simply because we love her; we celebrate her birthday as we would celebrate the birthday of anyone we love and care for.

However, since my goal in these reflections is to share my faith and feelings, I feel obligated to expound on the profound impact her birth has our lives as Christians.  

Mary made the ultimate leap of faith and gave us the gift of the birth of Jesus.  She embodies the line in a reading for St. Paul’s letter to the Romans: “We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28-30)

Across the United States exploring one’s genealogy has become extremely popular.  There are testing kits that we can buy that analyze the science of the ancestry of an individual.  The results of these tests are helping people better understand their heritage.  And sometimes the results of the tests can clarify or even redefine the understanding of family.

The story of our birth and those of our parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents can be such a powerful window into our own identity.  And stories of our heritage can ground us in larger community.  Sadly though, heritage can also be used to divide and separate communities and families.

The story of the birth of Jesus draws us together as Christians, as the Gospel According to Matthew reminds us: “Behold, the virgin shall be with child and bear a son and they shall name him Emmanuel which means “God is with us.”” (Matthew 1:1-23)

From her birth, Mary is a central actor in the series of marvelous events that are Jesus’ life.  We know her ever so slightly through the Gospels’ accounting: at His birth; at the Presentation of Jesus; at Jerusalem and Cana; her personal growth in relating to Him; and finally and especially, we know her intimately at the foot of her Son’s cross.

We know her also through those people that touch our lives deeply and who move us simply by their presence.  These special persons quietly guide us in the ups and downs of our lives.  It’s not too late to consider prayerfully and gratefully these guides who have touched and continue to touch us profoundly.  Mary’s birth to Anna and Joachim touches us to the core.

I find it interesting that Matthew celebrates the wonder of Mary’s existence and her place in sacred history in a manner that is quite grand, but in a style that’s strange to our ears; that lengthy genealogy with which he begins his gospel:

The Book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham.

Abraham became the father of Isaac,

Isaac the father of Jacob,

Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers.

Judah became the father of Perez and Zerah,

whose mother was Tamar.

Perez became the father of Hezron,

Hezron the father of Ram,

Ram the father of Amminadab.

Amminadab became the father of Nahshon,

Nahshon the father of Salmon,

Salmon the father of Boaz,

whose mother was Rahab.

The next few verses contain two more surprising female entries:

Boaz became the father of Obed,

whose mother was Ruth.

 Obed became the father of Jesse,

Jesse the father of David the king.

David became the father of Solomon,

whose mother had been the wife of Uriah.

It sure seems to me like a roundabout way to celebrate the person and role of Mary.  But that’s in fact what Matthew’s doing.  Ancient Jewish genealogies were a totally masculine matter, a list of legal fathers.  But Matthew deliberately broke that convention by inserting the names of women who entered this history in rather irregular ways, to state it mildly.  In the portion quoted above, the first surprise is the name of Tamar.  Genesis 38 tells how Tamar made it into the genealogy in a rather devious way; when her husband Er died early and childless, her father-in-law, Judah, refused to obey the Levite law which required him to supply another of his sons, to raise up children in the name of Er. Tamar secured her right to bear a child by dressing up as a prostitute and seducing Judah to get pregnant by him.  The second woman to be named, Rahab, was unusual in another way; she was a real prostitute and a Canaanite, to make the story even more compelling.

Ruth stands out as a foreigner, a Moabite woman, who married into the covenant people by way of Boaz.  And then there’s the woman discretely referred to as the one “who had been the wife of Uriah.” Anyone familiar with the story of David in 2 Samuel: 11-12 would immediately recognize her as Bathsheba, whose husband David arranged to be killed so that he could have her for himself.  Why would Matthew bother to include in his genealogy of the Messiah these four women who had entered the line in such irregular ways?  Because he was preparing for a person who comes some twenty-six names later—the fifth woman, Miriam (Mary), who participates in the genealogy with an irregularity that tops them all; she became the Mother of Jesus through the overshadowing of the Holy Spirit, through virginal conception.

Her own conception through the union of Joachim and Anne was perfectly normal.  We celebrate that conception in her mother’s womb as the Immaculate Conception, meaning that she was preserved from the effects of original sin from her very beginning, but the mode of her conception was brought about in the normal marital manner through the union of her good Jewish parents.  Her own birth, nine month later, was also like the birth of any child of her time and place. The wonderful “irregularity” came in the way she became the mother of the incarnate Son of God, Jesus.

So we celebrate the ordinary birth of Mary because of who she turned out to be and whose mother she became.  The point of Matthew’s genealogy was not simply to prepare for the virginal conception of Jesus but also to celebrate Jesus as the fulfillment of Israel’s history; Jesus doesn’t just come at the end of that history; He embodies Israel’s vocation and further implements it, helping Israel become Isaiah’s “light of the world.”  (Isaiah 60: 1-5)   In this process Mary was not simply the vessel; she was the perfect example of an Israelite who hears the word of God and responds to that word.  Fulfilling this ideal of Jewish obedience to God’s will enabled her to become the kind of mother who could raise her child to be the man that Jesus was and is.

We celebrate Mary’s birth with gratitude and with a commitment to imitate her faith.  Because of Mary, we’re beneficiaries of the divine story sketched in Matthew’s genealogy.  Our baptism into the body of Christ has placed us in that lineage. 

A Labor Day reflection

Today is the day Americans celebrate the many talents and gifts of those who labor, who toil, who use their physical skills and strengths to make our economy work and our society prosper.  These are people that our society many times doesn’t fully appreciate.  We too often overlook the importance of how they make life more comfortable, and loud pundits denigrate the value of their organized efforts to insure good lives for themselves and their families.  It’s good as a society to stop and reflect on how our lives are better because of them, and to thank them.

My grandfathers were these types of workers.  One of them had a high school education, and the other dropped out of school before high school to work.  One of my grandfathers was an elder in the Mormon faith.  My mom’s dad was a convert to Catholicism (after he married my grandmother).  Both were hard working laborers, men who played by the rules as they understood them, who were raised with strong family values and work ethics.  Sure, they sometimes disagreed with bosses, politicians, and elected officials, but once decisions were made or elections were held, they obeyed those for whom they worked, or who led their country. 

Because one of my grandfathers died when I was just sixteen years old and my other grandfather lived far away, I never talked with them about a lot of things, topics that in hindsight would have been interesting to pursue.  One comes to mind today from reading the gospel of Luke (Luke 6:6-11). 

How would my grandfathers have reacted to a religious radical that upset the order that they found in their religion?  How would these steady elders have responded when someone violated the norms of behavior that they had been taught should be followed without question?  Would they have been sympathetic to the message of the upstart, or suspicious because the new preacher challenged longstanding traditions?   Would they have understood the argument that He was making, that it was better to address a real human need than to blindly adhere to a tradition?   Would they have been able to comprehend that in doing good on the sabbath this new prophet was actually giving greater glory to God than by “keeping the Sabbath holy” through ritual?

Saint Paul encourages us to celebrate the feast with sincerity and truth (1 Corinthians 5:1-8).   Isn’t Jesus saying the same thing when He asks whether it’s better to save life on the Sabbath rather than to destroy it?  Isn’t the life He’s talking about saving our authentic spiritual life, and not some shadow that comes from disengaged obedience?  It seems that the full message of Jesus is to be sincere, to follow the truth, and to save the lives of others, and by doing so save our own.  To cite a psalm (Psalm 5:5-12), the path of Jesus will “lead us to the justice of the Lord”.

I loved my grandfathers.  They were good men who tried to build good lives for themselves and their families.  While I knew them when they were in their 60’s (my age now), I didn’t know them then knowing what I know now.  How much we could have learned from each other if my 66-year old person could have talked to their 66-year old reality!  It really is something to think about!

My prayer today is in gratitude for the efforts of the workers among us who too often go unappreciated, especially in these unprecedented times, for the grace to be sincere and true, and for the desire to save life rather than destroy it.

We are made for this time

 

These difficult days of the pandemic, economic crisis, demands for racial justice, environmental threats and divisive political hyperbole are putting all of us to severe tests, maybe more so those of us who call ourselves Christian.  We may be moving close to despair, becoming weary, tense, angry and be tempted to verbal or even physical violence within our families and social circles.

For whatever His plan is, God has placed us here, now.  God will provide what we need to endure and grow close to one another and to Him.  A few Scripture readings may be of help.

Ezekiel defines the role of the prophet as the one who warns the house of Israel of pending disaster (Ezekiel 33: 7-9).  As the People of God, we have a prophetic role in 2020.  We’re to call out hatred, divisions, lies and vindictive distortions that have to stop or we face our own demise as a people.

Saint Paul offers the alternate way that applies just as much to us, now, as it did to the divided community of Christians living in Rome to whom a letter was addressed nearly 2,000 years ago. “Love does no evil to the neighbor; hence, love is the fulfillment of the law.”  (Romans 13: 8-10)

In a world of revenge, lies, power and demonizing, we Christians are the prophetic counterforce.  We respond with mercy, truth, collaboration, kindness, and gentleness.  Nothing is more countercultural at this moment in history.

We, as followers of Christ, are made for this time.  Following the guidelines of Matthew’s Gospel (Matthew 18: 15-20), we confront evil, but the way we do it is with diplomacy and in the context of the community of love.  Should the sinners refuse us, defy us, or ignore us, they place themselves outside our circle of love and forgiveness, to their own peril.

We don’t ignore or minimize injustice, deceit, or the manipulation of truth.  But the way we confront it is always as important as the of goal of conversion of hearts.  This marks us as different in a world where the oppressed attempt to destroy the oppressor.  Our way is modeled by Martin Luther King, Jr., St. Oscar Romero, St. Mother Teresa, Dorothy Day, and Pope Francis who are themselves models of Jesus Christ.

As we confront evil together, we’re assured that, rooted in individual and communal prayer, Jesus is there: “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.”  Can any statement of Jesus be more reassuring during our moment in history?

God is near and listening

 

In this time of social distancing, we’re told that being near to someone other than those in the same household can be dangerous.  During my solo outings (my daily walks) I’ve noticed how people give each other greater space when passing in the streets, often well beyond the required six feet.  It feels awkward to stand or even walk closer to others these days.  We read about and hear that many people miss the closeness of others.  And here in California, many of us have lately been driven inside due to the smoke from the wildfires, the heat waves, or threat of physical altercations during protests, which has put even greater restraints on meeting and greeting our friends and neighbors.

And yet, when I was recently on a walk, I found myself spontaneously blessing and praying for a woman who seemed afraid that I was coming towards her on the same sidewalk.  I actually felt her fear and trepidation from a couple hundred feet away!  Even though I was physically distancing, in one way I felt closer to the stranger.  We’re all in this together.  And God is with us as well.  As Jesus tells us, “The kingdom of God is in your midst.” (Luke 17:21)  

Consider these two thoughts together: “God is near us when we call upon Him,” (Psalm 145) and “The kingdom of God is in our midst.”  Perhaps the space we’re keeping between us can help us see that which has been here all along.  We can often lose sight of that which we hold too closely.  But even in our blindness to what is familiar, God is there.  And He’s listening.  A lifestyle of constant prayer is more necessary today than ever before in our lives.

"Constant prayer" isn’t an activity.  It's an attitude.  A God-first mindset.  It means that God is the first one we talk at the start of each day and we continually turn our minds toward him throughout the day. It means making a habit of asking Him, "And what do YOU think about this, Lord?"  It means constantly believing that "Thy will be done"; God's Divine Will is what we want for our lives.

"Constant prayer" is a frame of mind that humbly admits when we’ve sinned, while we genuinely want to become holier.  And it's a hunger to learn more about God and more about the teachings of Christ from Scripture and from the Church; a hunger that’s never quenched because we’re never satisfied with how much we understand at this moment.

“Constant prayer” opens us to hear Jesus talk to us.  It opens us to receive from the Holy Spirit whatever graces we need for each situation that threatens to steal our joy. It puts us safely into the lap of God our Loving Dad who envelops us with peace.  He doesn’t speak to us with the voice of the storm.  Satan does that.  God speaks to us with the voice of the quiet breeze (1 Kings 19:10-13).

Our vocal prayers are just the tip of the iceberg, and constant prayer is everything underneath it in the ocean of our love for Christ.  When we have this kind of foundation for our prayer lives, the Holy Spirit gives us Christ's words to speak boldly and the calmness of Christ to handle every backlash.

Trust in the Lord

 

St. Paul reminds us that, as stewards, we should be found trustworthy (1 Corinthians 4:1-5).  Psalm 37 is extraordinarily beautiful and ties in with Paul’s exhortation to the Corinthians.  It’s basically a few good lines of encouragement, medicine for a hurting world.  Despite the negativity or anger that we may encounter these days, we must remain steadfast and firm in the love of the Lord.  We can be joyful and take courage in the fact that Jesus faced these hardships, as well, and he won’t leave us to face our troubles alone. “Trust in the Lord.”  Each of us is beautiful and loved.

Being both trustworthy and trusting at the same time is one description of the complexity of our relationship with God.  God trusts us with all things we encounter – ourselves, our families and friends, our physical world.  God expects us to be good stewards of all these gifts.  When we’re good stewards, we please God because we’ve demonstrated we’re grateful for His trust.  When we inevitably fail to fully satisfy this trust, by our actions or neglect, we sadden God because we haven’t been, in fact or in deed, trustworthy.  We can repair this trust by our future actions, and by seeking forgiveness for past failings.  We can think of God in this instance as the father in the prodigal son story (Luke 15:11-32) – one who is able to forget the past failings, to rejoice in the present re-conversion and re-commitment of the prodigal child to be more trustworthy – and not someone who dwells on the past, who remembers the shortcomings and failings.  Also recall the story where Jesus reminds the disciples that they must learn to forgive as God does – “not 7 times but 70 times 7 times” (Matthew 18:21-22).  We can take comfort knowing that God will forgive, will allow us to rebuild our trustworthiness, regardless of how many times we fall short.

When we trust in God, we believe that God will provide us with the comfort we seek from living with the realization of our eventual physical death.  We can believe that there is eternal life after this physical one, because God has shown us in a variety of ways that He can be trusted, and that God has revealed to us that this eternal life exists.  When our trust in God is shaken, for example by the unexpected or violent deaths of loved ones, or tragedies that befall communities, or evil acts by others, we question God – “If there is a God, how could God let this happen?”  But it’s not that God doesn’t exist, only that our trust has been weakened because, after all, we’re human, and the only existence we really know from all our senses is this one.  So if that existence is threatened it’s easy for us to lose trust.

The relationship of God finding us to be trustworthy, and us trusting in God, is very symbiotic, a mutual trust environment.  As our trust in God grows, as we do good, as we turn from evil, we become at the same time better stewards of what we’ve received, and thus more trustworthy.  We could substitute the word “faith” for trust, and the relationship would hold true.  As we have more faith and act on it properly, we become someone in whom God can have more faith that we will in fact do the right thing regarding our gifts.  This is similar to the relationship between people regarding trust, but with one significant difference – the mutual trust relationship between people that has been damaged is much harder to be repaired than the one with God.  People can forgive, but we have a harder time forgetting the harms we’ve received from others than God has in both forgiving and forgetting our transgressions. 

We can’t control God, but we can control ourselves.  We build trustworthiness by being aware of our actions of stewardship toward what we’ve received.  We can choose to do good; we can choose to turn from evil; we can be faithful.  We’ll fail because we’re human, but we also will succeed because we can choose to re-form ourselves, and because God will give us the strength to change our lives.  And as we do, we demonstrate to God that we are good stewards, and thus trustworthy.

Don't tell ME what to do!

 

St. Peter was a fisherman.  It’s how he supported his family, so it makes sense that he would know where the fish would likely swam in thick schools when the winds blew from different directions onto Lake Gennesaret, what times of day or night were best for hauling in full nets, and what seasons were ideal.  And he knew this lake well, having been born and raised in Galilee.

By contrast, Jesus had no such skill or knowledge.  He was a dazzling preacher and teacher, and maybe a skilled carpenter, but not a fisherman.  So why should Simon take His advice about fishing?  (Luke 5:1-11)

This passage is not only about the physical miracle of catching fish; rather, it’s much more about the mission of evangelizing souls and accomplishing the mission of God.  And the symbolism of putting out into the “deep water” tells us that we must be all in and fully committed if we’re to evangelize and spread the Word of God as we’re called to do.

When we listen to God and act on His word, committing ourselves to His will in a radical and deep way, He’ll produce an abundant catch of souls.  This “catch” will come in an unexpected way at an unexpected time and will clearly be the work of God. 

But think about what would have happened if Simon would’ve laughed and told Jesus, “Sorry, Lord, I’m done fishing for the day.  Maybe tomorrow.”   If Simon would have acted this way he would never have been blessed with this abundant catch.  The same is true with us.  If we fail to listen to the voice of God in our lives, and fail to heed His radical commands, we won’t be used in the way He desires to use us.

Sometimes all of us object to God’s suggestions and guidance.  We think we know best, despite the promptings of the Holy Spirit to go in a different direction.

God’s ways are not our ways (Isaiah 55:8).  Sometimes God is constantly asking us to go where we’d rather not, to change when it’s uncomfortable and to take risks when we’re very afraid.  That’s when we should take time to go off by ourselves in prayer and listen in quiet for the movements of the Spirit within to lead us, often to uncomfortable, risky places.

“Master, we have worked hard all night and have caught nothing, but at your command we will lower the nets.” The result so astonished Simon and his buddies that they left everything, including their preconceived notions of how to live their lives, and followed him.  This is what conversion is – a surrender of our entire being to God’s ways.  Will we take the risk?

Grow up!

 

When I reflected today on St. Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, it occurred to me that no matter how much we want to envision the warmth and love of the earliest Christians for one another, they were as human as the rest of us.  Paul admonished the Corinthians, basically telling them to ‘stop acting like babies, and grow up’, noting: “there is jealousy and rivalry among you.”  They had split into factions according to who had baptized them, whether Paul or Apollos.  A frustrated Paul tried to set them straight: “I planted, Apollos watered, but God caused the growth.”  (1 Corinthians 3:1-9)

The first image that cropped up in my mind is the jealousy and rivalry and petty rancor rampant in today’s world, causing much anger, hatred, suffering and frustration, and a turning away from our Creator.  Many in the world seem to have forgotten why we’re here in the first place! 

In Luke's Gospel (Luke 4:38-44), we see a series of poignant scenes that are warmly real and deeply human. One of Jesus' closest friends, Simon Peter, has a mother-in-law who is gravely ill.  Could Jesus come and see her?  We can assume that in the small geographical world in which they lived, Jesus knew her and had been in her house with Simon, his wife, and probably others.  Knowing the culture, Jesus had most likely received her hospitality and food many times.  So of course He wanted to help.  I can picture the scene as He held her hand as He stood close to her bed, spoke to her warmly and healed her.  Then she did what most symbolized that she was back to normal: she got up and gave them something to eat.  She was ready to get back to work, serving and loving her family and friends.

As that day ended, the sick and diseased were still coming to Jesus, all of them begging and calling for a cure.  Can you imagine the crowds of family and friends who struggled to bring their loved ones near, hoping desperately for health?  Even after a long day, Jesus remained with them, spending time with each one, moving close to look lovingly into their eyes, warmly embracing even those whose had been isolated from human touch by their disfiguring diseases.  He bent down and spoke softly to them and they were healed.  I like to think that at that moment they, too, stood up from their stretchers and began to serve in the way they were each called by God.

Paul tells us, “We are God's co-workers.”  Each of us has been loved into life by God and touched with the sacred spark of humanity.  And each of us has a unique calling in this life be a co-worker with God on earth.  It doesn't matter what we’ve been called to: parenthood, religious life, married or single, whether we’re a fisherman in Galilee, a hospitable mother-in-law, a farmer, teacher, office or factory worker, or even a politician; we have a sacred job to do on earth, in the way we live our lives and interact with others.

As the Psalms tells us, “Our soul waits for the Lord who is our help and our shield.” (Psalms 33:20).

Demons

There have been several times in my life when I have felt and, I believe, seen demons when either I or my children were in distress.  Each time, I commanded them to leave “in the Holy Name of Jesus”, whereupon the feeling of dread left immediately!  

Demons are real.  They hate us and they desire deeply to destroy us.  If that’s not frightening it should at least make us sit up and pay attention.

Demons are fallen angels who retain their natural powers.  Though they turned from God and acted in complete selfishness, God doesn’t strip away their natural powers unless they misuse them and we turn to Him for help.  As with the holy angels, demons have natural powers of communication and influence upon us and upon our world.  The angels are given the care of the world and our lives.  Those angels that fell from grace now try to use their power over the world and their power to influence us and communicate with us for evil.  They’ve turned from God and now they want to turn us.

One thing this tells us is that we must constantly act in a discerning way.  It’s easy to be tempted and led astray by a lying demon.  In the case of the man in Luke’s Gospel (Luke 4:31-37) he had so cooperated with his demon that it took full possession of his life.  Though that level of influence and control upon us is quite rare, it can happen.  What’s most important, however, is that we simply understand and believe that demons are real and they constantly try to lead us astray.

But the good news is that Jesus has all power over them and easily confronts them and overpowers them if we but seek His grace to do so.  

We’ve all experienced demonic temptations, but they’re nothing to be overly frightened about.  And they shouldn’t be seen in an overly dramatic light.  Demons are powerful, but the power of God easily triumphs if we let Him take control.  As we reflect upon the reality of evil and demonic temptations, we should allow God to take command and trust that God will conquer.  

The wonder of it all

 

I sometimes wonder what Jesus was like as a kid. I wonder if He walked around in flowing robes blessing people. If Mary and Joseph ever ran out of food, did Jesus just ‘miracle up’ all the wine and fish and bread they needed?When one of His buddies hurt himself in the playground, did Jesus touch and heal the ‘boo boo’? And in school, when asked a question, did he answer in eloquent and perfectly crafted parables?  

I imagine Jesus had to learn to walk, like the rest of us. He probably made mistakes growing up. Maybe He lost some friends and even He, being fully human and fully divine, had to deal with human emotions and fears. He must have had a hard time accepting who He was, and His mission.

I can hardly begin to grasp what He must have had to process as He began to understand who He was, and what He could do, and more importantly, what He was going to have to do.

After Jesus spent 40 days in the desert being tempted by Satan to renounce His relationship with His Father and remaining faithful, He went “home” feeling renewed. He revealed Himself to the people who knew Him best. They had seen Him grow from a little guy learning to walk and making mistakes, and now He’s saying that He’s the anointed one of God.

They had a hard time accepting who He said He was, and His mission. There’s quite a foreshadowing of Jesus’ end of life in this Gospel. It begins with people praising Him and being amazed at His speaking and depth, but ends with them filled with fury, taking Him to the top of a mountain to “hurl him down headlong.” 

First loved and accepted, but then pushed to His death. 

Those who praised Jesus on Palm Sunday were the same people that would scream “Crucify him! Crucify him!”

And yet, even fully knowing what would happen, God still pursued us. He sent His Son as one of us to reach out and call us home, even though He knew we’d do much more than just throw him off a cliff.

As if that isn’t sad enough, There’s an even greater sadness in that we’ve not changed even 2,000 years later! We still consistently reject God. We drive Him from our public life and hide our faith from other people so we don’t look like “Jesus-Freaks.” We turn our backs on fully experiencing and sharing the amazing life of unity, peace, and love that God wants for all of us.

And still, He loves.  And with such amazing love, to hold out a hand of care and forgiveness even though these very same people slam a spike through it.

As I reflect on this, I can’t help but remember the refrain to “Right Here Waiting,” from about 30 years ago:

Wherever you go,
whatever you do,
I will be right here waiting for you.

What a perfect description of God. All we have to do is look, listen and be God’s beloved.