Manly Men

Samson

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


Today’s readings draw a beautiful parallel between the Old Testament Samson, and the New Testament precursor of the Lord, John the Baptist. They depict the announcement of each by an angel to his parents.

Later in life, the Baptist was described by Jesus as never surpassed by any man born of woman (cf. Mt. 11:11).

And indeed, if we take a look at the lives of Samson and John the Baptist, the parallels we find are those of a man of God characterized by an abundance of virility and strength, and even a sort of wildness representing that particular aspect of wildness found in the male nature: Samson never cut his hair, and John the Baptist lived in the wilds, off locusts and wild honey. Both men endured, in different ways, the most rugged of trials.

Samson, as he grows older, is gifted with superhuman strength. John the Baptist’s iron strength is shown by his resistance to Herod and bravery in the face of martyrdom.

John is described as the voice crying in the desert, “Make straight the way of the Lord.” (cf. Mk. 1:3) We imagine him almost single-handedly leveling mountains and straightening paths so that Jesus will find the ground prepared when He begins His ministry.

Both men, Samson and the Baptist, end up sacrificing their own lives to be faithful to their roles in salvation history.

God, the Creator of the male nature, loves that nature in all its fierceness, its striving, its strength, its determination, its competitiveness: In all its virility. To the man who embraces what God has created him to be, builds it up, and surrenders it in a complete gift of self in the service of Jesus Christ and the vocation to which he is called, belongs a choice role in God’s providential plan for history–whether he perceives the full glorious context of that role at every moment, or not.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Pray for the men in your life, and for your own manhood, if you are a man. Ask God for the gift, not of suppression of what makes you/them manly, but of its full upbuilding, and for the grace to gift a fully-formed man to the whole-hearted, loving service of the Lord and His people.

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Labor Pains

Woman in Wheelchair

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


The whole world, as it were, gives birth to the Savior with labor pains.

We can think of the difficulties not found in today’s readings. Mary had to travel to Bethlehem when very close to her delivery date–in very uncomfortable circumstances. And as her labor was starting, there were zero accommodations available. Only a stable with animals.

And in today’s gospel, we see that the lead-up to the birth of the savior was no cakewalk for Joseph. The woman that he held high on a pedestal was suddenly found to be with child. His image of her was completely confused. And then, he had to trust that the message that came to him from the angel in a dream was true, and not wishful thinking on his part. Even though he was of a wise and discerning spirit, the feelings of insecurity during the course of this process must have been grueling.

And then, he was to dedicate his life as one of service to this woman and this child that wasn’t even his, starting with the arduous and at times seemingly hopeless task of making them comfortable for the child’s birth in Bethlehem.

Only a man of great faith trust that the plan of God ended much more gloriously than it began could sustain joy and hope in the midst of such circumstances.

As we approach Christmas today, perhaps we feel the burden of the day much as Joseph did. We feel the darkness and laboriousness of the sinful world around us, and of our own fallen nature. The human circumstances and sufferings of our life threaten to overwhelm us.

Like Joseph, the differentiator for us will be our level of faith and trust that the plan of God will end much more gloriously than it has begun.

Was He doing something amazing through Joseph? Yes. If we are faithful to Him through the simply, daily gift of our selves and our lives, is He doing something amazing through us? Yes. But like for Joseph, all that He is achieving through us will not be revealed until the prophecy of today’s psalm comes to its final fulfillment: “Justice will flourish in His time, and fullness of peace forever.”

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus Christ to give you the same simple, humble faith and trust in the immensity of God’s plan in your life that Joseph displayed as He spent His life in service to the Holy Family. Ask Him to make today, this day, with all its ups and downs, into a great day for His plan in your life.

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The Lion

Lion

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


There is something that aches about the season of Advent. We look forward to Christmas as the birth of Jesus, something that has already taken place, something glorious, a miraculous and definitive intervention of God in history. But as we meditate on our Advent readings, there is an ache in us that tells us that the Christmas story has not yet reached its happy climax. Jesus has completed His saving act, but His glorious triumph over all creation, and the establishment of His definitive rule, has not yet been fulfilled.

A glorious promise, that of the first reading, which is fulfilled in Jesus: “The scepter shall never depart from Judah.” From this moment of Jacob’s blessing of his son Judah, the tribe of Judah has been symbolized by the Lion–and it still is in Israel today. The Lion’s fairy tale title of King of Beasts no doubt originates in this reading; the Lion is King. And that kingship is to be fulfilled in Jesus, universal King of all creation. Jesus, the greatest Lion of the tribe of Judah, is seen in the book of Revelation opening the scroll of seven seals–opening the true and definitive interpretation and fulfillment of history–a right He has won by being slain as the Lamb. In this same passage, Jesus is both Lion and Lamb.

One of the most striking aspects of biblical prophecy is its fulfillment in real, earthy, human history. The Gospel delineates in black and white how Jesus is descended in lineage from that very Judah who is first called the lion in the first reading.

What aches in all this is that the glorious final triumph has not yet taken place; in fact, all the earthly miseries deriving from sin–sickness, death, catastrophe, tragedy, weakness, temptation–are all very much as potent in our world as they were at the time of Jesus.

We have not yet seen the prophecy of today’s Psalm fully come to pass: “Justice shall flourish in His time, and fullness of peace forever.”

This ache is a gift, however–an Advent gift. When we perceive it within us, let us cry out to God and ask Him to fill us with the gift of His grace this Christmas, won with the Incarnation and with His Passion and Death. May He give us such a measure of grace that we taste and drink deeply of His definitive triumph within our hearts, that which has not fully come to pass yet in the world around us.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Tell Jesus how deeply you need Him and long for His presence in your life. Ask for the greatest Christmas gift, the only one that matters: The gift of His complete triumph in your heart and in your life.

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Rain

Rain

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


“Let justice descend, O heavens, like dew from above.” “Let the clouds rain down the Just One, and the earth bring forth a Savior.”

God gave us a choice when He created us; we could choose Him, or choose against Him. Choosing Him wasn’t that hard and it certainly wasn’t irrational. But we chose against Him. The deed was done. There was no turning back.

There was no turning back, because God is faithful to Himself: He created us with free choice; He respected that choice; so His hands were tied to undo what we had done.

Nor did we deserve to have our choice rolled back. Our choice was entirely our own–and we had chosen wrong.

Here we are in Advent; we can imagine ourselves in that first Advent. The world is a cold, dark, hopeless place.

And we plead with God to rain down the Just One, and for the earth to bring forth a Savior.

And so, in the most creative solution to a problem ever conceived in human history, God uses the permission of a sinless young maiden to allow for His re-intervention in human history, by which–at the highest imaginable price–He will not roll back that free decision of our which He respects, but rather purchase for every human the ability to choose differently, to choose the higher, more difficult path of eternal happiness. Through no merit of ours, He intervenes.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Tell Jesus how much you need an extra infusion of Him in your life this Christmas. Tell Him about the darkness you feel in your world this Advent, and ask Him to send down the grace of His joy, strength, virtue, goodness, and wisdom like a rain shower in your life.

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Even God Cannot Sink This Ship

Titanic

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


There are many forms of sin. They all hinder us from following the Lord’s Great Commandment, whereby we love God above all things, and our neighbor as ourselves. (cf. Mk. 12:30-31)

Laziness keeps us from making effort to spend time with God in prayer, and serve neighbor. Gluttony turns our focus on our own pleasure–to the point of self-harm–and away from love. Lust makes objects of other human beings, and desecrates something set up by God as sacred.

Still, upon the discovery of the wonder of Christ, when one truly experiences Him, we see how suddenly these sins don’t seem so attractive anymore–they are cast aside in favor of Christ. We see, for example, how Zacchaeus the tax collector of a moment leaves his life of greed to follow Jesus, when Jesus comes to eat in his house (cf. Lk. 19:1-10).

An experience of Christ, for the sinner, is like the experience of finding that fullness of happiness that has been the object of a vain, frustrating search in all the wrong, empty places.

One of the seven capital sins, however, is actually exacerbated by an experience of Christ: The sin of Pride. Jesus’ call to obey God and sacrifice for others challenges the heart of stubborn Pride, which seeks autonomy and willful self-governance at all costs.

Thus, in today’s Gospel passages, we see tax collectors and other sinners repenting at the preaching of John the Baptist and Jesus’ preaching, but the Pharisees–whose only sin seems to be that of Pride–stubbornly and tragically resisting faith in Christ, resisting the key to their own temporal and eternal happiness.

In the first reading, too, the sin for which God sharply corrects His people is precisely that sin by which they refuse to be corrected–the sin of Pride. His remedy in the case of the Pride in the midst of His people is to remove the proud–we do not hear of conversion of their hearts.

Over and over again in Scripture, Old and New Testaments, we see Pride ending in tragedy, which becomes eternal: The tragic decision not to listen to God, or be corrected by Him, or obey Him; in the proud, we see a failure in God’s efforts to convert them.

The scary thing about Pride: It is also the most subtle sin. It seeps slowly into all of us, almost imperceptibly. By nature we want to feel powerful and superior, and so we snap up any opportunity to feel more this way.

But, God is the ally of His own. Those who ask Him for humility are not denied the gift–and protection of the gift. Sometimes God lovingly lays low those He loves to answer their plea to protect their humility, to protect them in His grace.

It is wise not to yield to the temptation to dream about feeling almighty, like the great entrepreneurs, the great barons of business, those seen by the world as the great achievers. Their belief in their greatness and their lasting-power is a mirage. Rather, we must be ready to accept continual course correction from Our Lord, and find our greatness in submitting to His glorious laws of love.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to grant you the precious gift that His mother possessed, seemingly effortlessly: Graceful humility, by which one is profoundly joyful and grateful because of the exaltation involved in being called to a loving relationship with Him. Ask Him to protect you from the sin of Pride, which tempts with its promise of autonomy, but in the end brings only denigration and emptiness.

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No One Born of Woman who is Greater

John the Baptist

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


These days, we see Gospel readings about John the Baptist, the great precursor, and how he prepared the way for Jesus.

One of the most beautiful things about John the Baptist in the Gospel is not so much what he does and what role he plays, as what particular, special love Jesus loves holds for him. And how for John, his own identity really isn’t about himself–it’s about Jesus.

Yesterday, we see John answering questions about his identity. He is asked if he was “Elijah,” “the Prophet,” to which he simply answers, “No.” He responds that he is simply the “voice crying in the desert.”

Yet, in another place, Jesus says of John: “And if you are willing to accept it, he is Elijah, the one who is to come.” (cf. Mt. 11:14). John says he is not Elijah; Jesus says he is. Who is right?

Well, Jesus is. But John did not see himself as a great prophet–he could only consider his own identity in relation to Jesus, not as some great standalone figure.

But Jesus is always ready to call out John’s special role, and his greatness. “I tell you, among those born of women, no one is greater than John…” (cf. Lk. 7:28)

John was very much aware of his littleness, his unworthiness to untie Jesus’ sandal straps. (cf. Lk. 3:16) But based on the way He talks about John, even leaning on the Baptist’s witness in today’s gospel as evidence for His own authority–based on all that Jesus says about John in the Gospel, when He looks at John, all He sees is greatness.

Is it possible that this is your relationship with Jesus as well? That when you come to Him, you offer Him your nothingness out of gratitude, acutely aware that on your own you can do nothing for Him and have no worth or power whatsoever? And yet, that when Jesus looks at you, all He sees is glory-bound greatness, one with an exalted eternal destiny, one who is helping Him to save humanity?

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus for trust–trust in His perspective of you, not so that you will lose your humility and sense of nothingness, but so that you will more and more place all your hope for happiness in Him, in His love, in His ability to make you what He sees you to be.

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Remember the Darkness

Darkness

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


Advent readings like today’s first reading go well with our external preparations for Christmas–with trimming hearth and tree, and baking Christmas cookies. There is such a warm beauty to them: “I rejoice heartily in the LORD, in my God is the joy of my soul; for he has clothed me with a robe of salvation and wrapped me in a mantle of justice, like a bridegroom adorned with a diadem, like a bride bedecked with her jewels.”

“He has sent me to bring glad tidings to the poor, to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and release to the prisoners, to announce a year of favor from the LORD and a day of vindication by our God.”

These are the sorts of readings that get us excited again about receiving the gift of saving and sanctifying grace with the Incarnation of the Word of God at Christmas–when God breaks into our dark lives like the dawn.

Think, though, what it would be like live before Jesus’ birth, when the world was shrouded in sin and there was no option for salvation. The world had rejected God definitively, and all there was to do was to repent and try to offend him less. He still merited a life of dedication, for He was the good God, our Creator; but the door to eternal life stood shut, due to our own definitive option for sin.

From this perspective, think of how much more still these words from the first reading hold hope and beauty. We know not how it will happen, but from the prophets we know that God has a plan to burst back into our lives and rescue us…

Today, we already enjoy the ability to choose the grace of God, won for us through the Nativity and the events that followed, and we can take it for granted. It will do us well to meditate on how that was not always the case–to place our hearts in the position of those who originally hoped in a mysterious and glorious intervention of God into history.

And then, to consider that even though we live in the years after Christ’s first coming, there is no reason that we cannot hope–and ask Him–for a renewal of grace in us this Christmas so revolutionary for our sanctification, that it is almost as if we never knew Him before, by comparison.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Imagine the times before the coming of Jesus–knowing that God would do something to rescue humanity, but not knowing what. Now, think of how we likewise hope for eternal life, and Jesus’ Second Coming, even though we don’t know just what these will be like. Ask Jesus this Advent to give you the priceless gift of joy-filled, even excited, hope in Him.

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Woman Clothed with the Sun

Our Lady of Guadalupe

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


We see a stark contrast between today’s first reading from Revelation, and today’s gospel.

In the first reading, we see the Queen of Heaven as a portentous, apocalyptic figure, chosen by God as mother to Him who would restore all mankind, and definitively defeat the dragon.

In the Gospel passage, we see her as a simple girl, receiving a heavenly message in very earthy circumstances, with very earthly concerns. We see her, not fully understanding, but obeying.

Yet, the two passages could not be more inextricably linked. The exaltation Mary receives from God as Queen of Heaven flows directly from that moment when, for all time, she expresses her obedience to God, defining herself as His handmaiden.

In fact, we actually can sometimes sense of seed of future glory when we submit ourselves fully in obedience to God. We sense that it is right; that this is what we were made for; that we are giving Him permission to do something amazing and unexpected with us, both for our own lives and for others.

On this feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, we recall how in her queenship, Mary had the power to pay a visit here on earth to the humble native peasant St. Juan Diego, in Mexico. And how she has come very powerfully to the aid of the Mexican people great and small for hundreds of years, bringing them over and over again to the grace of her Son.

When we abandon ourselves in the simplest way to trust in Divine Providence and obedience to God, we proportionately acquire the same power for good for souls that Mary has–even if we do not sense it during this pilgrimage in exile in a broken world.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Tell Mary that you would like to be part of her team, in bringing the world back to her Son. Ask her for the faith to understand that the simplest faithful living of your vocation, in self-sacrificing love for others, will work this miracle–not because if your own power, but because of Jesus’ acceptance of your gift as a catalyst for His infinite grace to extend farther. Ask her to protect your “membership” on her team, and to help you to grow in holiness for the sake of others.

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Outfielder’s Mitt

Mitt

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


Advent is a time when we await the coming of the Lord. Many of the readings in this season offer a beautiful, consoling picture of the Messiah bringing joy and fruitfulness back to our lives–it is a season full of joyful hope as we, who still feel the darkling impact of original sin in our lives, look forward to and pray for a new irruption of Christ’s grace into our reality as we celebrate Christmas.

But Advent, not unlike Lent, is also a time for penance. The first reading provides a hint as to why: “I, the LORD, your God, teach you what is for your good, and lead you on the way you should go.” In order to benefit fully from what Jesus brings us at Christmas, we need to wrench our lives onto His path. We need to align our choices with His choice to redeem us.

The Gospel shows us a sad vignette of what happens when we fail to work this alignment: “We played the flute for you, but you did not dance, we sang a dirge but you did not mourn.” The aligning of our lives to God’s will is not about earning our salvation. It is more like an outfielder’s aligning of his mitt to be ready to catch the ball, which has been struck with an almighty force in his direction.

This aligning action–the ascetic sacrifice of our inclinations to laziness, pride, sensuality, anger, etc.–is laborious, but not so laborious that it distracts from our hope. Jesus is coming. He is going to work a miracle with us that far exceeds the mere fruits of our humble ascetic action.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to open your eyes and help you identify the areas where you need to align your life more to Him. Ask Him earnestly to give you the Holy Spirit and wake you up, where necessary, to avoid the pitfall of error and misalignment in your life. And tell Him that you trust Him, that the prize that He is far exceeds the labor involved in following Him.

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Taken by Violence

Siege

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


“The Kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent are taking it by force.” 

The interpretations of this saying of Jesus are many and varied.

One attributed to St. Jerome, original translator of the Bible into Latin, refers to the mortification of our own passions and inclinations. This mortification is “violent” to our fallen nature, and it is necessary for entering the Kingdom of Heaven.

Jesus is drawing a distinction between the time of the prophets, and the time from John the Baptist until His present, that is, the Messianic time.

It would seem safe to say that the difference between these two eras was not that there was more violence in one than in the other. The difference was that the violence in Jesus’ time was retaking the Kingdom of Heaven.

We would love if it were otherwise, but the reopening–the retaking–of the Kingdom of Heaven did and does involve violence. To reopen the door to Heaven shut by original sin, as St. Jerome’s interpretation indirectly indicates, Jesus had and has to do violence to the evil tendencies brought to us by original sin. But also, Jesus Himself had to suffer violence to save us–“The Kingdom of Heaven suffers violence.”

Without attempting to put fine a point on the interpretation of this passage, let us meditate on the fact that our time in salvation history involves turbulence and even violence associated with the the encounter of the Holy One, in history and in our own lives, with the evil force of original sin. And let’s get ready for constant battle.

But, the prize is worth it, as the first reading tells us. “I will open up rivers on the bare heights, and fountains in the broad valleys; I will turn the desert into a marshland, and the dry ground into springs of water.”

When we let Jesus and His Holy Spirit into our lives, this is not an entirely peaceful event. “I have come to bring, not peace, but a sword.” (cf. Mt. 10:34) But the fulfillment He brings if we welcome Him and the battle He brings into our hearts is no less than the effect of life-giving irrigation on earth parched and exhausted by sin.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Tell Jesus you understand that the transformation He brings will not be easy–but that you trust Him to give you the strength to bear it, and that you want Him and all He brings, even if that includes pain and conflict. Your trust is the greatest consolation any creature can bring Him.

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