Time

Clock

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


God lives outside time, in eternity. But like Michelangelo creating the pietà, God sculpts time lovingly, carefully, with the greatest of attention to the details of the rises, the peaks, the valleys He needs to chisel into it to accomplish His design.

Typically, we live on a rise, in a peak, or in a valley, and that is all we can see; we cannot see the holy image He is forming–only the ups and downs of our little piece.

In the first reading, we see that there was a time for the priesthood of Aaron, insufficient, but important and symbolic. Then, there was the time for the fulfillment in Christ of the one high priesthood, as He breathed His last on the cross and said, “It is finished.”

Sometimes we live our faith as if it were stagnant in time, like some sort of perennial rulebook. And certainly, some elements–for example, prayer and the sacraments–are virtually timeless.

But in today’s gospel, Jesus emphasizes the importance of listening to the Holy Spirit as He helps us to read God’s cues in the time that He is sculpting for us. What is the cloth with which He is calling us to patch today’s wineskins?

The Christian who lives the perennial Ten Commandments is faithful, but the Christian who develops a profound relationship with the Holy Spirit in His soul–and recognizes, follows His timely cues–that Christian is holy, and with that holiness sanctifies the whole Mystical Body of Christ that is the Church.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Tell Jesus that you yearn for holiness, for that holiness that can make you as effective as the Blessed Virgin in extending the effect of the infinite power of His Cross. Ask Him to send the Holy Spirit to sculpt your reactions to properly match the time and circumstances with which He has surrounded you.

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Call

Telephone

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


Today’s first reading, psalm, and gospel almost could not be more on theme with one another. The theme: God calls, and man follows.

For both Samuel in the first reading and the apostles in the gospel, the caller was unfamiliar to them. The first reading explicitly states that Samuel was unfamiliar with the Lord, and the first exposure to Jesus of the apostles-to-be in the gospel is John the Baptist pointing Him out to them.

This unfamiliarity puts in relief an important point: The call was gratuitous. None of the recipients of the call in these readings had done anything to deserve it. It simply came to them. And then, they had the sense to follow.

God Himself is the great Initiator throughout salvation history. Sometimes, he works through intermediaries, like Paul, the Apostle to the Gentiles. But in all cases, it is His grace that moves the human heart to resonate with the message, hear a concrete call, and say “yes.”

What can we do for this world, that is so distant from God, to draw persons nearer to Him? Firstly, by listening daily and following our own call from Him, we lend ourselves to Him as instruments, to use us in the manner that He chooses, giving Him permission for limitless creativity to use us as intermediaries. But also, we must ask God to call more souls more insistently, and unmistakably. He doesn’t speak softly to increase the odds of souls missing His call, but rather, out of respect for the soul’s freedom to choose. But with our prayers, we can ask Him to knock more compellingly at the doors of more souls, that they may hear and grant Him entry.

And He will answer our prayer.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Renew with all your heart your gift of self to Christ, and ask Him to help you hear His call each day. Also, tell Him that you lean on Him as THE protagonist of evangelization and conversion. Ask Him to act in the most compelling way in the heart of persons throughout our world.

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Sharper than Any Sword

Swords

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


As today’s reading from the letter to the Hebrews states, the word of God penetrates right through us, right between our soul and our spirit, right between our joints and marrow, as it were, with to discern with piercing clarity the thoughts of the human heart.

The word of God penetrates with its wisdom; and the Word of God penetrates with His Holy Spirit of wisdom. We see over and over again, as in today’s Gospel passage, how Jesus penetrates into the hearts of the “sinful” outcasts of His time and offers them salvation which, because of their awareness of their misery and desire for something better, they readily accept. He also penetrates the hearts of the hypocritical leaders of His time, seeing how their apparently innocent and curious questions mask evil intent.

Perhaps we do not think enough about the wonderful gifts of the Holy Spirit: wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety, and fear of the Lord. With these, we can have the same piercing discernment. We can gain the strength and perseverance necessary to go through anything for Christ, up to and including martyrdom. We can gain the insight to provide just the right piece of saving advice to those in need of it.

“The word of God is living and active.” The Holy Spirit is living and active, and if we ask the Incarnate Word to give us a full dose of His Spirit, our prayer will not go unanswered.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: In calling us to salvation, Jesus calls us to be new persons–to radical transformation. It is this transformation that many tragically decline to embrace. But salvation does not come without it. And the crowning of that transformation here on earth is the deep infusion of the soul with the gifts of the Holy Spirit. Ask Jesus insistently for the gifts of the Holy Spirit. Ask Him to purify you however is needed to prayer your soul for these gifts.

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Turning Point

Left Turn

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


It was nice of Jesus in today’s gospel to forgive the paralytic of his sins before He healed him. Nice little touch, nice add-on. Or, maybe something far, far more consequential than the healing itself.

The first reading tells us why this seemingly “easy” act of mercy on Jesus’ part was of such moment. A key statement: “But the word that they heard did not profit them.” The author is referring to the Hebrews of Exodus, who despite all God had done for them, did not heed His word in obedience.

This key phrase is reminiscent of Jesus’ parable of the sower. That word, that the Hebrews did not heed, was choked by the cares and worries of this world, like the seed that fell among weeds in the parable: Fear of the Canaanites; priority on their bellies. Also, like the seed that fell on rocky ground, the word of God penetrated the hearts of the Hebrews not but superficially. “The word that they heard did not profit them.”

And the letter to the Hebrews goes on to point out again and again, poignantly, the consequence of this failure to heed: “They shall not enter my rest.”

Perhaps the sins of the paralytic were a little fib here, or minor laziness there. Or maybe, like so many, the paralytic’s sin had consisted in failing to heed the word of God due to far too many distractions and too much indifference in his life.

The consequence of indifference to God’s word is in high relief in the first reading: “They shall not enter my rest.”

Jesus would die on the cross for the paralytic, and open the gates to eternal life for him. It may be that, in response to those who approached Him on behalf of the paralytic, His act of forgiving the personal sins of the man–an act merited in the Passion to come–was the deciding moment leading to eternal life for this soul, rather than eternal condemnation.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Pray for souls. Like those who brought the paralytic to Jesus, we can bring souls before Him, that He may shower upon them His mercy. We can do this. It lies within our power. Our zeal to intercede for sinful souls can mean eternal life for them, in place of the condemnation toward which they are now heading .

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Emotional Waffling

Waffle

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


Today’s first reading provides a stern warning that we must take care not to develop an evil and unfaithful heart. The warning cites the Old Testament punishment of the Hebrews who, unfaithful in the desert, received the following consequence from God: “They shall not enter into my rest.” The reference to God’s prohibition of entry into the promised land for a generation of Hebrews is clearly used here as a metaphor of the risk of condemnation for those Christians who develop an evil and unfaithful heart.

Is the leper in today’s gospel one of these of unfaithful heart? His initial utterance touches us and moves our hearts to pity, together with the heart of Jesus: “If you wish, you can make me clean.” Once he receives his longed-for gift from Jesus, though, Jesus admonishes him not to spread the news. The former leper is in the hands of his emotions, however, and ignores Jesus’ admonition, publicizing the event far and wide. This significantly limits Jesus’ freedom of movement and His ministry.

In the book of Exodus, the Hebrews cry out to God for food, and He takes pity on them and provides, first manna, and then quail. They receive from him what they want. But then they fail to obey His commands out of fear–under the control, not of their reason guided by trust, but of their emotions. Just like the leper, who prompted God’s pity and received his request, but then utterly disregarded Jesus’ command.

So, was the leper condemned to Hell, because–per the warnings of the first reading–he was of unfaithful heart? We of course cannot say anything of the kind. We can hope that, in his enthusiasm at his cure, he returned to Jesus and became a firm disciple. Maybe he even apologized to Jesus for his indiscretion.

What we can say is that St. Peter is in heaven, despite having initially displayed an unfaithfulness of heart–driven by fear, just like that of the Hebrews who balked at fighting the Canaanites and failed to trust God’s command–because he repented out of his great love for Jesus. He became steadfast and faithful of heart, to the point of accepting crucifixion upside-down.

This, however, does not mean we should take the first reading’s admonition lightly. Many there are who, as described by the parable of the sower, initially receive the Word of God enthusiastically, but then falter do to a life ruled by fleeting emotions.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: There is no greater guarantor of perseverance in faithfulness of heart than faithfulness to daily prayer and frequent reception of the sacraments, which can only happen one day at a time. Ask Jesus to infuse you with His grace to help you remain faithful and steadfast. Then, enjoy your time with Him; talk to Him about the things that matter to you, and the things that puzzle you. Entrust and abandon it all to His provident Heart.

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A Pound of Flesh

Vintage Scale

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


As so often happens, the first reading chosen for today’s liturgy sheds great light on today’s gospel.

The first reading tells us that, since he was coming to save, not angels, but human beings, the children of Abraham, Jesus Himself chose to take on flesh to save them through His own death in the flesh.

Then in the gospel, we see Jesus healing at a furious pace; many bring to him persons with afflictions, and he heals them all, after healing Simon’s mother-in-law of a fever.

After which, He went away to pray by Himself.

We may well consider the tenor of those intimate moments between Jesus and His Father, after a day of healing. From the perspective of the townspeople, Jesus was a boon from out of the blue–a wonder-worker with the power of God. It was all excitement, all upside.

But in the light of the first reading, Jesus knew that this boon came with a price. He knew that He would pay for each and every one of those healings with His own suffering and death. He knew that the price man had incurred through original sin was not blithely waved aside–for it had been freely chosen, and God is consistent in His homage for the independent choices of human freedom, with all their consequences.

Jesus had come in the flesh, and in the flesh He was healing the flesh of His brothers and sisters. But the healing would come at the price of the free offering of His own flesh.

How dearly He loves flesh and blood–so much so that, when referring to Himself, He favors the title “Son of Man” over “Son of God” (cf. e.g. Mt. 16:13 and many others). Ultimately, He makes His flesh “true food” and His blood “true drink” (Jn. 6:55) in the Eucharist.

He Has come in flesh and blood to redeem flesh and blood. But without any doubt, with every miraculous healing, He could feel coming the price He–true man, true flesh and blood–would have to pay.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Jesus’ self-offering was of infinite power and infinite sufficiency for the salvation of mankind. As St. Thomas Aquinas stated, even a single drop of the blood of God made Man was sufficient to rid the world completely of all evil. Yet, there is still so much evil in the world–because of the obstinate choices of human freedom. Ask Jesus how you can partner with Him to extend the effect of His saving power; how He would like you to help the weak freedom of your brothers and sisters to choose Him.

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All Aboard

Subway

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


The whole story arc of Jesus Incarnation, life, Passion, death, and Resurrection is one of descent and abasement to our level, calling to us to join Him, and then return to His glory, bringing us with Him.

This is not something that we become a part of by being friendly, doing our workaday job well, or baking cookies for the church fundraiser.

We do exercise our part, of course, in all of those simple things with love–but the fundamental element is union with God, achieved first of all through the sacraments, and secondly (also very importantly) through daily contemplative prayer.

It’s as though we live underground in New York City; Jesus comes down to get us and arrives where we are on the subway–it’s all about getting on that train. And staying on it. Then suddenly, one day, we’ll find ourselves at the top of One World Trade Center–not because we have earned our way up, but because He has brought us there.

Today’s gospel is full of that story arc, showing us the events surrounding the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. It starts with what might be ascribed to any prophet, or arguably to any charismatic leader: The crowds are astonished at his words. (Of course, Jesus’ words are not just well strung together–they bring with them the impact of the Holy Spirit.)

But then, next frame in the movie, Jesus does something not accessible to the run-of-the-mill orator. He ejects an unclean spirit from a person possessed. No one does this. Only God does this sort of thing. This is God Himself, descended to call us, using His might to clear the path for us to join Him.

Every Christian who truly boards that train, who truly takes advantage of the sacraments and the simply, daily accessible reality of contemplative prayer, can be sure of experiencing the same powerful, encouraging, and purifying aid from the Savior to enable full participation in the destiny He came to bring us.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to come and penetrate your life with the fullness of His power, even though the journey with Him may take you to places you would not choose to go. Ask Him to take over; tell Him your heart is His to lead, unconditionally.

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It Starts

Race Start

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


As usual, today’s readings and this moment in the liturgical year are multi-layered, like some sort of amazing millefoglie cake.

Today is the first day of ordinary time. Humdrum, one might think–time to get back to the routine grind. Upside? Maybe the predictability of it, and the thought that we can use the routine for growth and progress.

But our first reading and psalm come off as anything but ordinary.

The first reading speaks of the refulgence of Christ’s glory, of God speaking to us in the last days through His Son, of the Son’s stature as superior to the angels. This reading is positively oozing with glory.

And not surprisingly, the psalm punctuates the first reading: “Let all the angels worship Him.”

This all seems rather extraordinary, until we realize that status quo (“ordinary” if you will) for God is a state of glory. For us, the just-past Christmas season is about glory; the glorious bursting of God into the world. For God, Christmas was a descent, even a sort of self-abasement, for our sakes. Similarly, while the “ordinary” for us implies humdrum and earthly, for God it is nothing short of unending exaltation.

What is exciting for us about this, in our ordinary lives, as clearly comes through in the placement of this first reading at the beginning of Ordinary Time: Even in the midst of our “ordinary,” we can participate in God’s extraordinary “ordinary,” through union with Him–in anticipation of His “ordinary” becoming our “ordinary” as well.

As if this all were not enough, the gospel for today brings us to a completely different place, parallel in its richness: Jesus begins His “ordinary” ministry the day after we celebrate the Baptism of the Lord, which marks the beginning of that ministry. We have the opportunity of meditating on what it was like for Him to begin His labor in earnest, as we begin the labor of a new year.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus how He combined the arduous reality of His daily ministry with a continuous connection through prayer to the glory of His Father in Heaven. Ask Him how He would like you to combine these two realities in your life.

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Anointing

Confirmation

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


What we see at the Baptism of Jesus, momentous as it is, is the tip of the iceberg. We can well focus on the supernatural manifestations, whereby the Holy Spirit descends upon Jesus visibly in the form of the dove, and God the Father proclaims Him His Son, in whom He is well pleased.

But there is a lot of depth to what is going on here. Per usual, the Old Testament sheds deep light on what is happening in the broader context of the economy of salvation, as we see in our first reading.

Of course, we know that Jesus was born to carry out the mission of our salvation–for no other purpose. Still, it is at the critical moment of His Baptism–which He with good reason insists upon, in the face of the Baptist’s protests–that Jesus as man formally accepts this mission, the mission of salvation described for us in the first reading. Or rather, as the second reading from Acts describes, He accepts His anointing for this mission. It is God the Father who does the anointing, and the oil of anointing is the Holy Spirit Himself. By accepting God’s will for Him to be baptized by John the Baptist, Jesus formally accepts His own divine anointing for His mission of salvation.

Why at this moment does the Father decide to manifest Himself, and state that He is pleased with His Son? As Jesus says elsewhere, the Father is always pleased with Him, because Jesus always does what pleases Him. But here, we may confidently infer that the Father is specifically saying that He is particularly pleased with what Jesus has just done, for the first time formally as God-Man, in taking on His difficult mission.

Following Christ, all the way into eternal life, is costly. He demands from us core transformation, for the sake of radical exaltation. But today we espy one consequence of our acceptance of His invitation to this radical gift of self to Him that may otherwise elude us. Since in His saving act, Jesus has made of us adopted children of God, we inherit with Him the ability to please the Father by accepting His mission for us, by accepting His will.

And so, we may confidently affirm that when we say “yes” to the life that God is asking from us, the Father, in all His solemnity, is saying of us as well that He is “well pleased.”

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Imagine one of the moments when it was challenging for you to say “yes” to God, and imagine the true joy that your “yes” brought to God the Father, the sovereign of the universe. Marvel that He would ordain things such that He could derive authentic joy from you, and ask Him never to let you be parted from the path of pleasing Him.

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The Spectrum

Rainbow Colors

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


John the Baptist bears witness to Jesus, not only as the Messiah of Israel, but also the one whose presence is the source of joy and happiness, He who is personal fulfillment–in fact, his own personal fulfillment. And He does it in today’s Gospel passage, in one of most beautiful testaments to Jesus in the entire Gospel: “The one who has the bride is the bridegroom; the best man, who stands and listens for him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom’s voice. So this joy of mine has been made complete. He must increase; I must decrease.”

For the Baptist, Jesus is not just the object of his special mission. He is the source of John’s personal joy.

John the Baptist is a beautiful example of what John the Evangelist speaks of in today’s first reading: “We know that anyone begotten by God does not sin; but the one begotten by God he protects, and the Evil One cannot touch him.”

The joy that John the Baptist derives from Jesus, and his focus on Him as his reason for being, makes it much more unlikely for the Baptist to offend God by breaking the Commandments than, for example, a mediocre Christian whose focus is on worldly self-gratification and whose attitude toward the Commandments is bare-minimum compliance.

In the first reading, John the Evangelist bears unequivocal evidence to the doctrine of two tiers of sin–those which are deadly, and which remove the life of God from the soul, and those which are still sin but are not deadly. For those we observe committing latter sort, John encourages us to pray, that God may infuse His life into them.

When John says he is not encouraging prayer for such an infusion for those we observe committing deadly sins, he is simply observing that God is being chased out of that person’s life and therefore–due to His respect for human freedom–He has no “foothold” from which to infuse an increase of His life within the soul. Now, John is not discouraging us from praying for the conversion of sinners who have committed grave sins and are spiritually dead. But when we pray for such persons, we are, as it were, begging God to knock (and knock hard) at the door of their hearts, and ask for admission–we are not asking to infuse life from the position of one already dwelling within their hearts.

When we read through today’s first reading and through today’s gospel, we observe a dramatic spectrum of souls in relationship to God: Everything from those who have ousted God from their lives, and who can only receive an infusion of His life again if they accept His solicitations of readmission, to souls like John the Baptist, who live habitually from Christ as a source of happiness, and could not imagine seeking happiness anywhere else.

Where lie we on this spectrum?

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to infuse you with His life; ask Him to make Himself more and more your sole focus in your quest for happiness. Ask Him to infuse His life likewise into your loved ones who are living the Christian life. And regarding those–your loved ones and others–who have effectively dismissed Him from their lives, beg Him with all the zeal of which you are capable to continue knocking at the door of their hearts, trusting that when He does so, His offering is always compelling in its attraction.

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