First Sunday of Advent and Hope is the theme of the First Sunday of Advent. In the readings for Mass, Isaiah describes a future in which all is well because (1) God is recognized as the highest authority and (2) following his ways is the people's highest priority.
This vision gave great hope to the oppressed Israelites. As a picture of heaven, it also gives great hope to us. Even if "terms" (of purgatory) must be "imposed" upon us because we've not stayed entirely on the paths of God, we will be living in the light of the Lord after death, and there will be no more wars to battle.
Knowing that this is our future, we can look at today's trials as preparations for heaven. The weapons that we use now to defeat and overcome the powers of darkness can be used as plowshares for enriching our soil (our earthly life), bringing us into new growth and producing a harvest in ministry. Sufferings that are turned into ministries to help others make the hardships very valuable.
Although Isaiah was speaking of the coming of the world's Messiah through the Jews, these verses remind us that when we respect God's authority and make imitating Christ our highest priority, all is well for us. Our battles against evil aren't over yet, but Jesus has already won the victory for us. Our hope is not based on a wish for peace; our hope comes from the reality of what Jesus has already done and what he will do. So, "let us go rejoicing to the house of the Lord!" (Psalm 122).
The Gospel reading tells us that our hope is realized only if we stay awake and alert to the activities of Christ. What are you despairing about? Despair and worry are merely distractions that make us forget that Christ has already won the battle. If we stay alert to the presence of Christ, recognizing his authority and following his ways, we live in hope – not wishful thinking, but a hope that's based firmly on reality.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
stringing the lights
This Advent, my reflections are focusing on the four gifts from God that are represented by the four candles on our Advent wreaths: hope, peace, joy, and love. Jesus is the Light of the World, represented by the candlelight that grows brighter as we get closer to Christmas.
Jesus commissioned us to share the gifts of God by spreading his light. We become light so that when others observe us, they see Jesus. Together, connected to each other in Christian community, we become a string of lights like the ones that will decorate our Christmas trees.
Whenever you see festive Christmas lights adorning the houses in your town or hanging inside your home, let them remind you that we are all connected to each other through Christ, and that when everyone's light bulbs are glowing, the world is a much cheerier place. This is the source of our hope in a dark and anxious world.
The problem is: not everyone’s lights are lit. Gaps on the string are quite noticeable. How bright is your own light?
December is such a busy, hectic month! Be sure to slow down and take time for yourself and your spiritual needs. How close does God feel when you're busy with the decorations, baking cookies, partying, and shopping for gifts? Don't let the busyness of December interfere with your preparations for the true meaning of Christmas.
For today's readings, let's apply the metaphor of the string of lights to what happened in the Gospel. Think of Jesus as the one who turns on the electricity to make our lights glow. The centurion is teaching us that Christ's command is enough to flip the switch. We need nothing more than his say-so.
The sun goes down, your home gets dark, and your world be-comes bleak. Jesus says "yes!" to you and flips the power switch. Now everything you see is awash in brightness and color. What had seemed lifeless has been converted into delightful beauty.
That's all it takes for your soul to change! First, you supply the electricity: You make your soul available to Jesus. What do you need him to do in you? He says, “Yes!” Nothing more than his say-so is needed.
When your decorations are up and night-time falls, flip the Christmas lights on and off and on and off. Enjoy how easy it is to change the way your little world looks. It's that easy for Jesus to change the great big world, but because there are a lot of bulbs missing from the string of lights, not much of the world gets lit up.
This is why it's so very, very important that we all do our best to become brighter lights and why we must evangelize others so that the missing ones are restored and new ones are added to the string!
Jesus commissioned us to share the gifts of God by spreading his light. We become light so that when others observe us, they see Jesus. Together, connected to each other in Christian community, we become a string of lights like the ones that will decorate our Christmas trees.
Whenever you see festive Christmas lights adorning the houses in your town or hanging inside your home, let them remind you that we are all connected to each other through Christ, and that when everyone's light bulbs are glowing, the world is a much cheerier place. This is the source of our hope in a dark and anxious world.
The problem is: not everyone’s lights are lit. Gaps on the string are quite noticeable. How bright is your own light?
December is such a busy, hectic month! Be sure to slow down and take time for yourself and your spiritual needs. How close does God feel when you're busy with the decorations, baking cookies, partying, and shopping for gifts? Don't let the busyness of December interfere with your preparations for the true meaning of Christmas.
For today's readings, let's apply the metaphor of the string of lights to what happened in the Gospel. Think of Jesus as the one who turns on the electricity to make our lights glow. The centurion is teaching us that Christ's command is enough to flip the switch. We need nothing more than his say-so.
The sun goes down, your home gets dark, and your world be-comes bleak. Jesus says "yes!" to you and flips the power switch. Now everything you see is awash in brightness and color. What had seemed lifeless has been converted into delightful beauty.
That's all it takes for your soul to change! First, you supply the electricity: You make your soul available to Jesus. What do you need him to do in you? He says, “Yes!” Nothing more than his say-so is needed.
When your decorations are up and night-time falls, flip the Christmas lights on and off and on and off. Enjoy how easy it is to change the way your little world looks. It's that easy for Jesus to change the great big world, but because there are a lot of bulbs missing from the string of lights, not much of the world gets lit up.
This is why it's so very, very important that we all do our best to become brighter lights and why we must evangelize others so that the missing ones are restored and new ones are added to the string!
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Miracles
Is the subject of miracles bound to be obscure, incomprehensible? Is there anything that can be said that is at all satisfying? After pursuing the subject in any number of books of theology meant for us ordinary mortals I'm inevitably left feeling quite unsatisfied. That itself may be telling me something worthwhile: that miracles are not something you or I are going to figure out with our reason. Perhaps the central thing about them is that they are not able to be contained within the thoughts and science we have developed. Writers in effect try to explain them away or offer some partial but basically unsatisfactory explanation. We don't know at this stage of human development -- and probably never will -- what are all the laws of nature. To say that a miracle is an exception to those laws is no help. Discuss the topic with thoughtful believers and they will bring up examples of miracles without being any closer to defining them. They will tell us how their father was freed from cancer by the prayers of family and friends. How the seemingly hopeless case of a friend paralyzed in an accident was turned around and she is now up and walking. Faith in prayer and in God's genuine care for us is what finds miracles. We can and should, if it interests us, continue to think about miracles but, better yet, leave God space in which to act in ways beyond our comprehension.
Friday, November 26, 2010
‘Watch yourselves … Stay awake!’
Many of us spend a lot of our time trying to keep God at bay. While we may outwardly profess that we know that God loves us, we can secretly fear God and wonder if he is really trustworthy. To enter into relationship with the divine is to let go of all control. Humans find that scary. We prefer remaining between a rock and a hard place to surrendering to God—’I might be between a rock and a hard place, but it is my rock and my hard place!’
We come up with a range of ‘spiritual insurance policies’ to stay safe. We can even dupe ourselves into thinking that our pious, religious activities are drawing us closer to God, when in reality we are disguising our insecurities by placing God into boxes.
But God is not a tame animal! The more energy we spend trying to control God, the bigger will be our shock when we discover how wrong we were. He is the God of surprises!
We come up with a range of ‘spiritual insurance policies’ to stay safe. We can even dupe ourselves into thinking that our pious, religious activities are drawing us closer to God, when in reality we are disguising our insecurities by placing God into boxes.
But God is not a tame animal! The more energy we spend trying to control God, the bigger will be our shock when we discover how wrong we were. He is the God of surprises!
Thursday, November 25, 2010
What might you be THANKFUL for?
There was a small community of monks living in the Egyptian desert, and one day several of them came to the Abba, the spiritual father of the community. "We have reason to believe one of the monks is being visited by a woman at night." they told him. "We thought you should be informed." That evening, after night fall, the Abba paid a visit to the monk accused of unchastity. When he arrived at the monk's cell, he knocked on the door and was invited in by the monk, who was clearly quite astonished to have the holy old man visit him at that hour. Coming in, the Abba saw a large basket in a corner and seated himself on top of it while he visited amiably with the monk. A few minutes into the conversation a knock came at the door and a large group of monks pushed their way in. They had observed the Abba go to the monk's cell and had come to see the monk shamefaced and also to see what punishment would be meted out. Imagine their surprise when they found the Abba and the monk quietly engaged in conversation and no sign of a woman anywhere. Baffled and disappointed, they all returned to their cells and went to sleep. When they were all gone and the Abba was alone with the monk, he came down off the top of the basket, removed the lid and, addressing the woman inside, said she could now return to her home. Following her to the door, the Abba prepared to leave himself and it appeared he would say nothing to the monk at all. Then, just before leaving, he turned to the monk and said: "Attend to yourself," bade him goodnight and returned to his cell.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Psalm 39
Psalm 39 is full of poetic expressions of the shortness of life: "You have given me a short span of days; my life is nothing in your sight. A mere breath, the one who stood so firm; a mere shadow, the one who passes by; a mere breath, the hoarded riches -- and who will take them, no one know . . . . In your house I am a passing guest -- a pilgrim, like all my forebears." The words, though they speak of the fragility of our life, still may have a bittersweet beauty for us.
(The inevitability of decay adds urgency to our appreciation of spring and the beauty of nature.) We see the same fleeting character of all creation evidenced in the cycles of nature, in flowers, in the seasons, in every form of beauty. We see it, more close to home, in the sudden and/or accidental death of a young person. But, no matter how much we take the words or events to heart, it is still hard for us to really believe in our own decay and death.
Rarely do such words, no matter how frail our physical being, prevent us from planning our summer vacation or a winter getaway, from buying a new suit or having the roof replaced. We can perhaps write feelingly of our mortality and the shortness of life but to really imagine our own death seems almost impossible. A psychiatrist reports that he has rarely heard a patient say, "When I die;" more often it is, "If I die." Perhaps the best we can do is attempt to be more aware of our fragility and that of those around us.
¡Viva Cristo Rey! (Long live Christ the King) were the last words Father Pro uttered before he was executed for being a Catholic priest and serving his flock.
Born into a prosperous, devout family in Guadalupe de Zacatecas, he entered the Jesuits in 1911 but three years later fled to Granada, Spain, because of religious persecution in Mexico. He was ordained in Belgium in 1925.
He immediately returned to Mexico, where he served a Church forced to go “underground.” He celebrated the Eucharist clandestinely and ministered the other sacraments to small groups of Catholics.
He and his brother Roberto were arrested on trumped-up charges of attempting to assassinate Mexico’s president. Roberto was spared but Miguel was sentenced to face a firing squad on November 23, 1927. His funeral became a public demonstration of faith. He was beatified in 1988.
In 1927 when Father Miguel Pro was executed, no one could have predicted that 52 years later the bishop of Rome would visit Mexico, be welcomed by its president and celebrate open-air Masses before thousands of people. Pope John Paul II made additional trips to Mexico in 1990, 1993 and 1999. Those who outlawed the Catholic Church in Mexico did not count on the deeply rooted faith of its people and the willingness of many of them, like Miguel Pro, to die as martyrs.
During his homily at the beatification Mass, Pope John Paul II said that Father Pro “is a new glory for the beloved Mexican nation, as well as for the Society of Jesus. His life of sacrificing and intrepid apostolate was always inspired by a tireless evangelizing effort. Neither suffering nor serious illness, neither the exhausting ministerial activity, frequently carried out in difficult and dangerous circumstances, could stifle the radiating and contagious joy which he brought to his life for Christ and which nothing could take away (see John 16:22). Indeed, the deepest root of self-sacrificing surrender for the lowly was his passionate love for Jesus Christ and his ardent desire to be conformed to him, even unto death.”
(The inevitability of decay adds urgency to our appreciation of spring and the beauty of nature.) We see the same fleeting character of all creation evidenced in the cycles of nature, in flowers, in the seasons, in every form of beauty. We see it, more close to home, in the sudden and/or accidental death of a young person. But, no matter how much we take the words or events to heart, it is still hard for us to really believe in our own decay and death.
Rarely do such words, no matter how frail our physical being, prevent us from planning our summer vacation or a winter getaway, from buying a new suit or having the roof replaced. We can perhaps write feelingly of our mortality and the shortness of life but to really imagine our own death seems almost impossible. A psychiatrist reports that he has rarely heard a patient say, "When I die;" more often it is, "If I die." Perhaps the best we can do is attempt to be more aware of our fragility and that of those around us.
¡Viva Cristo Rey! (Long live Christ the King) were the last words Father Pro uttered before he was executed for being a Catholic priest and serving his flock.
Born into a prosperous, devout family in Guadalupe de Zacatecas, he entered the Jesuits in 1911 but three years later fled to Granada, Spain, because of religious persecution in Mexico. He was ordained in Belgium in 1925.
He immediately returned to Mexico, where he served a Church forced to go “underground.” He celebrated the Eucharist clandestinely and ministered the other sacraments to small groups of Catholics.
He and his brother Roberto were arrested on trumped-up charges of attempting to assassinate Mexico’s president. Roberto was spared but Miguel was sentenced to face a firing squad on November 23, 1927. His funeral became a public demonstration of faith. He was beatified in 1988.
In 1927 when Father Miguel Pro was executed, no one could have predicted that 52 years later the bishop of Rome would visit Mexico, be welcomed by its president and celebrate open-air Masses before thousands of people. Pope John Paul II made additional trips to Mexico in 1990, 1993 and 1999. Those who outlawed the Catholic Church in Mexico did not count on the deeply rooted faith of its people and the willingness of many of them, like Miguel Pro, to die as martyrs.
During his homily at the beatification Mass, Pope John Paul II said that Father Pro “is a new glory for the beloved Mexican nation, as well as for the Society of Jesus. His life of sacrificing and intrepid apostolate was always inspired by a tireless evangelizing effort. Neither suffering nor serious illness, neither the exhausting ministerial activity, frequently carried out in difficult and dangerous circumstances, could stifle the radiating and contagious joy which he brought to his life for Christ and which nothing could take away (see John 16:22). Indeed, the deepest root of self-sacrificing surrender for the lowly was his passionate love for Jesus Christ and his ardent desire to be conformed to him, even unto death.”
Monday, November 22, 2010
Play me a tune!
Meditating on the readings and the subject of today’s liturgical festival brought up three disparate insights that may be connected – they certainly point to the need for further reflection in my own life.
The Feast of St. Cecilia is an ancient celebration of a Roman Martyr. Little is known about the woman, so her life has become a canvas upon which various eras could paint their own imaginations of holiness. That there really was a holy Roman woman who was martyred for the faith is solidly attested since the early 3rd Century, that she was relatively wealthy seems to be historically grounded, and that she gave her rather large house to the Church for a place of worship would indicate both her wealth and her authority in the family. While she is called a virgin there is little evidence for that other than a kind of romantic “Acts of St. Cecilia” written sometime late in the Fourth Century and based on no historical data other than that there was such a person who died a martyr and gave her house to be a place of worship. Other more solid evidence indicates that she was married and the matron of a wealthy senatorial house. Her remains were buried in the same place as the early Bishops of Rome, so she may have been a relative, patroness, or even wife of one of them. The addition of music to the canvas of her life story continued to elevate her popularity. The medieval Church named her patroness of Church music and she is frequently portrayed at an organ or with other musical instruments, none of which would likely have been in existence, much less use in the early Church. So today what might we draw on this largely blank canvas of her real life? More recent historical study into the House Church phenomenon of the Roman Empire before the Edict of Toleration might incline us to suppose that Cecilia hosted a “house Church” in the Second Century, and she may even have been the presider over such a community, which would have made her a likely target for martyrdom in a time when there was no empire-wide persecution but when Christian leaders were sporadically persecuted and put to death as seemed to be the case in the mid Second Century.
Studies in Biblical numerology point to the fact that the number twelve is a “mystical” number which alludes to the twelve tribes of Israel. Even the identification of twelve apostles seems to be related to this number rather than any real number of specific persons listed. In the book of Revelation, filled with symbolic numbers, colors, and animals among other things, the number 144 would probably refer to 12x12 – or all of Israel times all of the followers of Jesus (led by The Twelve) times an infinite number – since 1000 was frequently used for an unaccountably great number. Thus a choir of 144,000 would actually be the number of millions of humans saved by the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ – who are singing the praises of God. As a Church musician for many years who longed to hear the 200, or 700, or more people populating the pews at Sunday Eucharist singing out their gratitude for “being ransomed as the first fruits for God and the Lamb” this image is indeed a heavenly promise. It does speak to the importance of every one of us joining in the hymns of praise that God’s goodness might be known here on earth so that others will be inclined to join the choir of those who know they are saved. When Christians are better known for their noisy complaining against the ideas or foibles of other Christians than for their harmonious hymns of praise for God’s love few will be interested in hearing, and thus following, the Lamb.
Finally, today’s Gospel points to yet another “note” in the song of the Christian life. Generous giving out of our plenty is important and necessary as it is the practice of justice. But the real imitation of Christ is the generous donation out of our poverty. The woman who gives her “mite” is greater in her love than the mighty. When we give to others out of the resources that we really need for ourselves – when we give the substance of our life rather than the “extra” – then we really understand and practice Charity, the Divine gift that is so evident in Christ’s outpouring of his life for our sakes. So we come full circle in these ruminations and realize that Cecilia – whatever the details of her human life might have been – is most notably a singer of the eternal choir because she gave her very life in witness (the meaning of the word martyr) in order that God might be known, loved and sought by us.
The Feast of St. Cecilia is an ancient celebration of a Roman Martyr. Little is known about the woman, so her life has become a canvas upon which various eras could paint their own imaginations of holiness. That there really was a holy Roman woman who was martyred for the faith is solidly attested since the early 3rd Century, that she was relatively wealthy seems to be historically grounded, and that she gave her rather large house to the Church for a place of worship would indicate both her wealth and her authority in the family. While she is called a virgin there is little evidence for that other than a kind of romantic “Acts of St. Cecilia” written sometime late in the Fourth Century and based on no historical data other than that there was such a person who died a martyr and gave her house to be a place of worship. Other more solid evidence indicates that she was married and the matron of a wealthy senatorial house. Her remains were buried in the same place as the early Bishops of Rome, so she may have been a relative, patroness, or even wife of one of them. The addition of music to the canvas of her life story continued to elevate her popularity. The medieval Church named her patroness of Church music and she is frequently portrayed at an organ or with other musical instruments, none of which would likely have been in existence, much less use in the early Church. So today what might we draw on this largely blank canvas of her real life? More recent historical study into the House Church phenomenon of the Roman Empire before the Edict of Toleration might incline us to suppose that Cecilia hosted a “house Church” in the Second Century, and she may even have been the presider over such a community, which would have made her a likely target for martyrdom in a time when there was no empire-wide persecution but when Christian leaders were sporadically persecuted and put to death as seemed to be the case in the mid Second Century.
Studies in Biblical numerology point to the fact that the number twelve is a “mystical” number which alludes to the twelve tribes of Israel. Even the identification of twelve apostles seems to be related to this number rather than any real number of specific persons listed. In the book of Revelation, filled with symbolic numbers, colors, and animals among other things, the number 144 would probably refer to 12x12 – or all of Israel times all of the followers of Jesus (led by The Twelve) times an infinite number – since 1000 was frequently used for an unaccountably great number. Thus a choir of 144,000 would actually be the number of millions of humans saved by the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ – who are singing the praises of God. As a Church musician for many years who longed to hear the 200, or 700, or more people populating the pews at Sunday Eucharist singing out their gratitude for “being ransomed as the first fruits for God and the Lamb” this image is indeed a heavenly promise. It does speak to the importance of every one of us joining in the hymns of praise that God’s goodness might be known here on earth so that others will be inclined to join the choir of those who know they are saved. When Christians are better known for their noisy complaining against the ideas or foibles of other Christians than for their harmonious hymns of praise for God’s love few will be interested in hearing, and thus following, the Lamb.
Finally, today’s Gospel points to yet another “note” in the song of the Christian life. Generous giving out of our plenty is important and necessary as it is the practice of justice. But the real imitation of Christ is the generous donation out of our poverty. The woman who gives her “mite” is greater in her love than the mighty. When we give to others out of the resources that we really need for ourselves – when we give the substance of our life rather than the “extra” – then we really understand and practice Charity, the Divine gift that is so evident in Christ’s outpouring of his life for our sakes. So we come full circle in these ruminations and realize that Cecilia – whatever the details of her human life might have been – is most notably a singer of the eternal choir because she gave her very life in witness (the meaning of the word martyr) in order that God might be known, loved and sought by us.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
excitement! excitement!
"That poor widow gave more than all the others. she gave all she had to live on. They gave from their surplus. Luke 21: 1-4
A bag of damage and worn-out paper money was sitting in the U.S. Treasury vault waiting to be shredded. A $20 bill and a $1 bill began talking about their lives.
"Wow!" said the $20 bill, "I've lived one wild life. Excitement! Excitement! Excitement!I was taken to all kinds of exciting places: gambling casinos, country
clubs, and world cruises. How about you?" The $1 sighed, "How I envy you! All I ever did was go to church, go to church, go to church."
How generously am I in supporting God's work on earth?
It's amazing small a dollar bill looks in a bar on Saturday night and how big it looks church on Sunday night. Author Unknown
A bag of damage and worn-out paper money was sitting in the U.S. Treasury vault waiting to be shredded. A $20 bill and a $1 bill began talking about their lives.
"Wow!" said the $20 bill, "I've lived one wild life. Excitement! Excitement! Excitement!I was taken to all kinds of exciting places: gambling casinos, country
clubs, and world cruises. How about you?" The $1 sighed, "How I envy you! All I ever did was go to church, go to church, go to church."
How generously am I in supporting God's work on earth?
It's amazing small a dollar bill looks in a bar on Saturday night and how big it looks church on Sunday night. Author Unknown
Sunday, November 14, 2010
This takes balance
November 14, 2010
In this Sunday's Gospel reading, Jesus says that the day will come when not one stone of the temple will be left mortared to another, because it will all be torn down. He's reminding us that everything here on earth is temporary.
What do you enjoy here on this earth? It's temporary. What causes you to suffer? It's temporary. What of this world do you depend on? It's temporary. What do you admire, trust, save, hope for, plan for, spend working hours to achieve, and spend relaxation hours as a reward? It's all temporary – unless we are using it for the Kingdom of God.
We know that we're supposed to focus on the things of God, things that will last for all of eternity, but we don't like the blind faith that this requires. We are like the disciples who looked for God's vindication against injustices and immorality in the temporal world: wars, earthquakes, plagues and famines. We wish that Jesus would hurry up with his Second Coming and stop all the evils and hardships.
In our daily lives, we seek God's help, but we look for something concrete upon which to base our faith. We want to know the future; we don't like the insecurity of not knowing what God has planned. We want to depend on what we see, rather than depend on God whom we cannot see, so we ask God to give us signs.
However, the best way to walk forward with God is to raise one foot in air, preparing to take the next step, and – while that foot is still in the air – ask God: "Where do You want me to place my foot next?"
This takes balance; if we don't remain centered in God, we teeter and fall. If God doesn't show us immediately where to put our foot down to move forward, we either fall away or we fall into his hand.
God's hand is never temporary! God's hand provides true security based only on his endless, all-powerful, all-knowing love. It doesn't always feel that way, but his love and protection never fail.
In this Sunday's Gospel reading, Jesus says that the day will come when not one stone of the temple will be left mortared to another, because it will all be torn down. He's reminding us that everything here on earth is temporary.
What do you enjoy here on this earth? It's temporary. What causes you to suffer? It's temporary. What of this world do you depend on? It's temporary. What do you admire, trust, save, hope for, plan for, spend working hours to achieve, and spend relaxation hours as a reward? It's all temporary – unless we are using it for the Kingdom of God.
We know that we're supposed to focus on the things of God, things that will last for all of eternity, but we don't like the blind faith that this requires. We are like the disciples who looked for God's vindication against injustices and immorality in the temporal world: wars, earthquakes, plagues and famines. We wish that Jesus would hurry up with his Second Coming and stop all the evils and hardships.
In our daily lives, we seek God's help, but we look for something concrete upon which to base our faith. We want to know the future; we don't like the insecurity of not knowing what God has planned. We want to depend on what we see, rather than depend on God whom we cannot see, so we ask God to give us signs.
However, the best way to walk forward with God is to raise one foot in air, preparing to take the next step, and – while that foot is still in the air – ask God: "Where do You want me to place my foot next?"
This takes balance; if we don't remain centered in God, we teeter and fall. If God doesn't show us immediately where to put our foot down to move forward, we either fall away or we fall into his hand.
God's hand is never temporary! God's hand provides true security based only on his endless, all-powerful, all-knowing love. It doesn't always feel that way, but his love and protection never fail.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Thursday 11th November, 2010 Veterans Day
Refresh my heart in Christ.
Today, Lord, open our hearts to the plea of your apostle Paul as he requested a favor from his friend Philemon. He pleaded with Philemon to welcome their mutual friend Onesimus as a beloved brother. He recalled that the love he received from their mutual friend in the past gave him joy because it was at the heart of the faith they shared. Paul urgently wanted to ensure that Onesimus received the loving support needed for him to continue on as your disciple.
Thank you, Lord, for this insight into the mindset of those who devoted their lives to awakening faith in you. They affirm that your love for us, our love for you, the love of our friends for us and our love for them, all combine to refresh our hearts in faith. May we welcome our troops home as brave brothers and sisters as Paul begged Philemon to welcome Onesimus.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Faith that uproots trees
Doesn't it just drive you nuts when you ask a friend for help and he (or she) doesn't do anything but agree that you need the help? In today's Gospel reading, the apostles ask Jesus to increase their faith. And we lean forward in our seats, eager to hear the answer. Tell us, Jesus, tell us! What's the key to greater faith?
But instead of preaching a good homily on "10 Keys to Stronger Faith," Jesus tells us how crummy our faith is. I can't uproot a tree by praying over it, can you? Gee, thanks for the discouragement, Lord. Seems like we all have faith smaller than the itty bitty mustard seed.
Well, the fact is, there is no key to stronger faith. There is no secret method, no special formula. It's a way of life. It involves staying closely connected to the Spirit of God. Faith is not something that we can build up; faith is purely a gift of the Holy Spirit (see 1 Cor. 12:9). To the extent that we're in communion with the Spirit, that's the extent to which our faith can uproot trees.
Oh-oh. I just went outside and stood in front of palm tree (I live in Florida) and commanded it to uproot itself, but nothing happened. I guess I'm not in a very good relationship with the Holy Spirit.
Rrrrri-i-i-ight.
Seriously, rather than look for the miraculous, we should ask Jesus: "What sin needs to be uprooted from me? Or what doubt? What distrust in You?"
Whenever we focus on the difficulties of life, fear begins to take root in us. We start worrying that the problem is going to end in disaster. The solution? Climb back onto God's fatherly lap and pray about it. Remember that fear is a liar (think of it this way: F.E.A.R. = False Evidence Appearing Real). Ask the Holy Spirit to reveal the truth to you, which is usually the exact opposite of what the fear is telling you. Then you'll able to endure the trial with hope instead of anxiety.
THIS is what Jesus meant by having faith large enough to uproot trees. The moment we turn to the Holy Spirit for help, we connect ourselves to HIS faith (which is infinitely larger than a mustard seed) and we receive his faith as a gift. Our faith feels stronger because God's faith is activated within us.
To increase our faith, we only have to increase our connectedness to the Spirit of God. Listen! The Spirit of Truth is instructing you.
But instead of preaching a good homily on "10 Keys to Stronger Faith," Jesus tells us how crummy our faith is. I can't uproot a tree by praying over it, can you? Gee, thanks for the discouragement, Lord. Seems like we all have faith smaller than the itty bitty mustard seed.
Well, the fact is, there is no key to stronger faith. There is no secret method, no special formula. It's a way of life. It involves staying closely connected to the Spirit of God. Faith is not something that we can build up; faith is purely a gift of the Holy Spirit (see 1 Cor. 12:9). To the extent that we're in communion with the Spirit, that's the extent to which our faith can uproot trees.
Oh-oh. I just went outside and stood in front of palm tree (I live in Florida) and commanded it to uproot itself, but nothing happened. I guess I'm not in a very good relationship with the Holy Spirit.
Rrrrri-i-i-ight.
Seriously, rather than look for the miraculous, we should ask Jesus: "What sin needs to be uprooted from me? Or what doubt? What distrust in You?"
Whenever we focus on the difficulties of life, fear begins to take root in us. We start worrying that the problem is going to end in disaster. The solution? Climb back onto God's fatherly lap and pray about it. Remember that fear is a liar (think of it this way: F.E.A.R. = False Evidence Appearing Real). Ask the Holy Spirit to reveal the truth to you, which is usually the exact opposite of what the fear is telling you. Then you'll able to endure the trial with hope instead of anxiety.
THIS is what Jesus meant by having faith large enough to uproot trees. The moment we turn to the Holy Spirit for help, we connect ourselves to HIS faith (which is infinitely larger than a mustard seed) and we receive his faith as a gift. Our faith feels stronger because God's faith is activated within us.
To increase our faith, we only have to increase our connectedness to the Spirit of God. Listen! The Spirit of Truth is instructing you.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Whats LOVE got to do with it?
Do you believe in the resurrection? That's the question that Jesus indirectly poses when he challenges the Sadducees in this Sunday's Gospel reading.
As Christians, we believe that someday we will experience a resurrection like Christ's, after we depart from this present earthly "age" or stage of life. All believers who follow Jesus will live as the angels do. This is why Catholic funeral Masses are Resurrection Masses and use white instead of black as the liturgical color.
But do you believe in the resurrection of love? Jesus explained the resurrection in terms of marriage. A marriage is supposed to be a reflection of God's love for his people. Marriage is supposed to unite a man and a woman in an enduring love that comes from God; therefore it gives witness to the world of God's faithfulness and commitment.
So why would Jesus say that marriage is not a part of the resurrection of the dead? Why won’t today’s marriages become perfect and continue forever after both husband and wife have entered heaven?
Here on earth, love is imperfectly given and imperfectly received. Therefore, it's constantly dying and being resurrected again, every day, to the extent that each spouse repents and forgives. (The same is true of any friendship.)
Perfect love is God. We live as true children of God when we love our brothers and sisters the way he loves them. Marriage does not exist in heaven because it's an imperfect love: We love our spouses more than we love others. In heaven, we will love our spouses fully (yes, even our ex-spouses!) and we will love everyone else just as much. And those who have loved us poorly will love us better than the best spouse could love us now.
Marriage is only a foreshadowing of what love – with everyone – will be like in heaven.
As Christians, we believe that someday we will experience a resurrection like Christ's, after we depart from this present earthly "age" or stage of life. All believers who follow Jesus will live as the angels do. This is why Catholic funeral Masses are Resurrection Masses and use white instead of black as the liturgical color.
But do you believe in the resurrection of love? Jesus explained the resurrection in terms of marriage. A marriage is supposed to be a reflection of God's love for his people. Marriage is supposed to unite a man and a woman in an enduring love that comes from God; therefore it gives witness to the world of God's faithfulness and commitment.
So why would Jesus say that marriage is not a part of the resurrection of the dead? Why won’t today’s marriages become perfect and continue forever after both husband and wife have entered heaven?
Here on earth, love is imperfectly given and imperfectly received. Therefore, it's constantly dying and being resurrected again, every day, to the extent that each spouse repents and forgives. (The same is true of any friendship.)
Perfect love is God. We live as true children of God when we love our brothers and sisters the way he loves them. Marriage does not exist in heaven because it's an imperfect love: We love our spouses more than we love others. In heaven, we will love our spouses fully (yes, even our ex-spouses!) and we will love everyone else just as much. And those who have loved us poorly will love us better than the best spouse could love us now.
Marriage is only a foreshadowing of what love – with everyone – will be like in heaven.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Listening
"Acquire a heart and you shall be saved." These are the words of Abba Pambo, a desert father of the fourth century. According to the desert tradition, the focus of ascetical practice and prayer was ordered to the acquiring of a heart, achieving purity of heart. Finding one's heart rendered one permeable and available to God's mystery. Historically there is a tension between the mind and the heart, which calls to mind an Orthodox phrase: we must learn to stand before God with "the mind in the heart." It suggests the profound unity that we are called to express in our lives as Christian persons.
The heart is not simply a physical organ or seat of emotions; it is the core and center of our personhood as well. According to Jewish tradition, the heart is the throne of God's glory, which is the place where the shekhinah, the presence of God, most deeply is to be found. Therefore, when Paul in the letter to the Romans speaks about the love of God being poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us, he is speaking of God's reality breaking through to the inmost chamber of our own reality. We experience it then as a unified and transfiguring and transforming love.
The effect of the heart's becoming the home of God's glory is wonderfully described by another ancient, St. Isaac of Nineveh. Writing in the seventh century, he describes what happens when the heart is rendered permeable to God's presence and God's mystery. It becomes compassionate. It becomes merciful. What is a merciful heart, St. Isaac asks?
It is a heart that burns with love for the whole of creation, for humankind, for the birds, for the beasts, for the demons: for every creature. When a person with such a heart as this thinks of the creatures or looks at them, his eyes are filled with tears. An overwhelming compassion makes his heart grow small and weak, and he cannot endure to hear or see any suffering, even the smallest pain inflicted upon any creature. He never ceases to pray with tears -- even for the irrational animals, the enemies of truth, and those who do him evil -- asking that they may be guarded and receive God's mercy. For the reptiles he also prays with a great compassion that rises up endlessly in his heart until he shines again and is glorious like God.
In other words, to be given the gift of a merciful heart is to be transfigured, is to allow the mercy and compassion of God not only to find a home in us but through us to extend outward, embracing all the disparities and contradictions and paradoxes that exist in the world around us, even the demons and the reptiles. (The reptiles here are meant to stand for everything that discomforts us and makes us uncomfortable.)
The heart is not simply a physical organ or seat of emotions; it is the core and center of our personhood as well. According to Jewish tradition, the heart is the throne of God's glory, which is the place where the shekhinah, the presence of God, most deeply is to be found. Therefore, when Paul in the letter to the Romans speaks about the love of God being poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us, he is speaking of God's reality breaking through to the inmost chamber of our own reality. We experience it then as a unified and transfiguring and transforming love.
The effect of the heart's becoming the home of God's glory is wonderfully described by another ancient, St. Isaac of Nineveh. Writing in the seventh century, he describes what happens when the heart is rendered permeable to God's presence and God's mystery. It becomes compassionate. It becomes merciful. What is a merciful heart, St. Isaac asks?
It is a heart that burns with love for the whole of creation, for humankind, for the birds, for the beasts, for the demons: for every creature. When a person with such a heart as this thinks of the creatures or looks at them, his eyes are filled with tears. An overwhelming compassion makes his heart grow small and weak, and he cannot endure to hear or see any suffering, even the smallest pain inflicted upon any creature. He never ceases to pray with tears -- even for the irrational animals, the enemies of truth, and those who do him evil -- asking that they may be guarded and receive God's mercy. For the reptiles he also prays with a great compassion that rises up endlessly in his heart until he shines again and is glorious like God.
In other words, to be given the gift of a merciful heart is to be transfigured, is to allow the mercy and compassion of God not only to find a home in us but through us to extend outward, embracing all the disparities and contradictions and paradoxes that exist in the world around us, even the demons and the reptiles. (The reptiles here are meant to stand for everything that discomforts us and makes us uncomfortable.)
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Yippee!
"There'll be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over 99 respectable people who do not need to repent." Luke 15:7
A teacher had her students to rewrite Jesus' Parable of the Lost Sheep, putting it in a mod-ern setting. One student wrote: "Suppose you finish typing a 100-page term paper. Then you discover one sheet is missing.What do you do? You search for it. When you find it, you are so happy that you throw other 99 sheets, into the air, saying,"Yippee! I found my lost sheet! That's how God feels when you start back to church again."
Ask yourself: Am I as forgiving toward others as God is forgiving toward me?
"Teach me to feel another's woe,to hide the fault I see;That mercy I show to others,
That mercy show to me." Alexander Pope
A teacher had her students to rewrite Jesus' Parable of the Lost Sheep, putting it in a mod-ern setting. One student wrote: "Suppose you finish typing a 100-page term paper. Then you discover one sheet is missing.What do you do? You search for it. When you find it, you are so happy that you throw other 99 sheets, into the air, saying,"Yippee! I found my lost sheet! That's how God feels when you start back to church again."
Ask yourself: Am I as forgiving toward others as God is forgiving toward me?
"Teach me to feel another's woe,to hide the fault I see;That mercy I show to others,
That mercy show to me." Alexander Pope
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Day of the Dead Hanal Pixan
On October 30, 31, and November 1st and 2nd, the Mexican people celebrate their loved ones who have passed on. The best way to describe this Mexican holiday is to say that it is a time when Mexican families remember their dead and at the same time, the continuity of life.
An important thing to know about the Mexican Day of the Dead, or Día de los Muertos, is that it is a holiday with a complex history, and therefore its observance varies quite a bit by region and by degree of urbanization. It is not a morbid occasion, but rather a festive time. Generally speaking, the holiday's activities consist of families welcoming their dead back into their homes, and also visiting the graves of their departed loved ones. At the cemetery, family members clean up the gravesite, decorate it with flowers, and set out and enjoy a picnic while visiting with other family and community members who gather there. In both cases, celebrants believe that the souls of the dead, the ánimas, return and are all around them.
In Yucatán, the holiday is known as Hanal Pixan. The meals prepared for these picnics are sumptuous, usually featuring the foods the departed loved ones liked, such as the Yucatecan chicken and pork pot pie dish, mucbilpollo, and a special egg-batter bread, pan de muerto, or bread of the dead. Gravesites and family altars in the homes are profusely decorated with flowers (usually yellow, orange and purple), and adorned with religious amulets and with offerings of food, cigarettes and alcoholic beverages for the adults and toys for the children.
The traditional observance calls for departed children to be remembered Nov. 1st, the Day of the Little Angels, or Día de los Angelitos, and for adults to be remembered on the second day called All Saints, or Todos los Santos. In the markets Lucas de Galvez and San Benito you will find colored candles that are used to decorate the altars, and sugar skulls with names on the foreheads that are also used. Both the candles and the skulls are unique to this time of year.
An important thing to know about the Mexican Day of the Dead, or Día de los Muertos, is that it is a holiday with a complex history, and therefore its observance varies quite a bit by region and by degree of urbanization. It is not a morbid occasion, but rather a festive time. Generally speaking, the holiday's activities consist of families welcoming their dead back into their homes, and also visiting the graves of their departed loved ones. At the cemetery, family members clean up the gravesite, decorate it with flowers, and set out and enjoy a picnic while visiting with other family and community members who gather there. In both cases, celebrants believe that the souls of the dead, the ánimas, return and are all around them.
In Yucatán, the holiday is known as Hanal Pixan. The meals prepared for these picnics are sumptuous, usually featuring the foods the departed loved ones liked, such as the Yucatecan chicken and pork pot pie dish, mucbilpollo, and a special egg-batter bread, pan de muerto, or bread of the dead. Gravesites and family altars in the homes are profusely decorated with flowers (usually yellow, orange and purple), and adorned with religious amulets and with offerings of food, cigarettes and alcoholic beverages for the adults and toys for the children.
The traditional observance calls for departed children to be remembered Nov. 1st, the Day of the Little Angels, or Día de los Angelitos, and for adults to be remembered on the second day called All Saints, or Todos los Santos. In the markets Lucas de Galvez and San Benito you will find colored candles that are used to decorate the altars, and sugar skulls with names on the foreheads that are also used. Both the candles and the skulls are unique to this time of year.
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