The Mover

Mover

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


God is demanding.

The Ten Commandments are not easy. Per the Church’s interpretation of the third Commandment, Honor the Sabbath, we have an obligation to attend Mass every Sunday, lest we fall into serious sin. Also, Jesus tells us that if we call our brother a fool, or look at another person to whom we are not married with sexual desire, we commit serious sin. And St. Paul speaks of the sin of drunkenness. And the list goes on.

But Jesus goes farther than this. He also tells us we must not only avoid sin–but if we fail to look after our brothers and sisters in need, we likewise risk eternal damnation (cf. Mt. 25:31-46).

Because God is demanding, we often think of our Catholic religion as ourselves trying to abide by His demands and please Him. In other words, we think of it in the light of our own effort and initiative.

But God’s demands are just the stage-setter for the Catholic experience–not its essence. Its essence is something very exciting, which makes the demands of God as worthwhile as a difficult drive to our best friend’s wedding is worthwhile because of the celebration that awaits.

The essence of our religion is not our own effort, our own movement, but a movement and action of God, the Mover, in a very real and concrete way.

We see it in the Gospel, when Jesus heals the man with dropsy, defying those who would criticize Him for doing so on the sabbath. In a special way, we see it described in today’s reading from Philippians: “I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work in you will continue to complete it until the day of Christ Jesus.”

The Holy Spirit is the great architect and builder of our experience of the Catholic religion, and healing, along with an exalted union with God, is His intent. A life free from serious sin is the level ground on which He builds, and our prayer time (above all) is His work day. As He “continues to complete it,” an experience of the Kingdom of God grows within us, and we experience it unmistakably and rejoice, even though we “know not how.” (Mk. 4:27)

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Think about the times in your life when you’ve thought of your Catholic religion as a chore, as a set of demands. Then, consider the times when you have been deeply touched by God’s grace. Consider that, as deep as those experiences have been, you have just scratched the surface; consider that the Infinite One has far more in store for you. Talk to Jesus and ask His mercy for the times you haven’t seen past the more difficult demands of your faith, and implore Him to take you to ever more fulfilling experiences of His grace.

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The Armor of God

Armor

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


Divine Providence, and God’s role as sovereign of human history, is a curious thing in its interplay with human freedom.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus laments Jerusalem’s rejection of Him, and the fact that it will become an abandoned place as a consequence. His lamentation is full of love–He laments, not an inability to rule over Jerusalem, but to “gather its children.”

But at the same time, He tells those worried for His safety in the outlying country not to be concerned, because the place of His death is destined to be the Holy City.

The very thing He is lamenting, He has accepted as the destiny preordained by God’s plan.

God’s plan takes into account foreseen human decisions for evil and so channels them for His purposes of salvation, that it almost appears that He Himself is their cause.

It is easier to see this in Jesus’ life than our own, both because of His own foreknowledge, and because of the insight of hindsight. But through faith, we know that the same dynamic is happening for us as long as we give our lives to Him. Nor is it a delicate dynamic, subject to shattering at any moment that we may display weakness; the dynamic of God channeling evil for good is backed by His strength, not ours. As St. Paul says, “We know that all things work for good for those who love God.” (Rm. 8:28)

Speaking of St. Paul, all we need to do to tap into this dynamic, as He says in the first reading, is put on the armor of God: Righteousness, faith, the Spirit. If we stay close to Him in prayer and the sacraments, our life will in fact become a breathless love story of salvation, union with God, and happiness.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Think of some things in your life that are troubling you. Ask Jesus how those fit into His plan for you, as His death in Jerusalem fit into the great plan of salvation. For those pieces that you don’t understand, ask Him to help you trust in His knowledge of where they fit and His guidance of you accordingly.

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Essential Stones

Church Stones

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


Today, the feast of Sts. Simon and Jude, is all about the apostles.

Working backward from the Gospel passage, the message is something like this: 1) (Gospel) Jesus personally called each of the twelve apostles; 2) (Psalm) As a result of the apostles fulfilling their mission, the message of the Gospel went out to all the earth; and 3) (First reading) As such, the apostles form the foundation of the “building” which is the Church; Jesus Himself is the capstone that holds everything together, and each of us is an essential “stone” in the building.

When they were called, the apostles–later the foundation of the Church itself, bringing Christ’s message to the ends of the earth–were ordinary people, just like us. Perhaps even more “ordinary”! Even once they had received their call and were walking with Jesus, they didn’t feel particularly extraordinary. in the end, it was the Holy Spirit Himself who ensured that their extraordinary mission was fulfilled.

So why are we so often trying to find a way to carry out an extraordinary mission ourselves? Why do we look outside our own personal vocation for what is extraordinary? All we need to do to ensure that the mission God has entrusted to us, which is critical since we are essential stones in the “building” of the Church, is to do what the apostles did: Stay connected to Jesus. It is He who will send us the Holy Spirit. And it is the Holy Spirit who will ensure that our mission, which is far above our own abilities, is fulfilled.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Talk to Jesus about your personal mission within His Church. “Read it back to Him” in your own words, and ask Him to enlighten you if your read of it needs some correction or education. Then, entrust that mission to Him. Ask Him to send His Holy Spirit in power to ensure that you drink the chalice entrusted to you to the last drop, and that your mission for the salvation of your fellow humans is fulfilled.

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Mustard! Who Knew

Mustard

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


According to the Gospel, the Kingdom of God is like yeast that is mixed with flour, causing the whole batch of dough to rise. Just as yeast brings wheat to its full potential as a risen loaf, so our relationship with God–the Kingdom of God within us–brings us to the full potential of what we were created to be.

So it is too with society, even here on earth: When citizens reach their full potential through their relationship with God, society itself becomes godly and reaches the full potential of what it is intended to be.

And the first building block of society is the family, and concretely within that, marriage. In the first reading, St. Paul urges Christian husbands to cherish their wives, and Christian wives to respect their husbands. This is easier said than done: To move from the natural complementary attraction of the opposite sex to a life dedicate to the service of another person’s happiness, a person built with a psyche and needs entirely different from one’s own, an infusion of God’s grace is critical. Otherwise, disrespect, disdain, and frustration slowly creep in and take over.

As full as the individual husband’s and wife’s heart is with God, just that full is the family of God; and as full as the family is of God, just that full is society of God.

Most of the ills we observe in society trace back to insufficient love within the family unit, which translates to an unhealthy quest for welfare, security and esteem from government and society to make up the loss.

The best way we can change society is by filling our hearts with God, and then giving all we are to our spouse and family. If this seems unsatisfying, too small to make a dent in the shredded fabric of our unhealthy society, consider the Gospel description of the Kingdom of God as a mustard seed. The mustard seed is the smallest of seeds, which then grows into the largest of shrubs, whose branches shelter many birds. If indeed our own effort is small, consider that offered to God it constitutes the “yes” that can unleash the full, infinite power of Jesus’ redemptive act upon many hearts, and ultimately, society itself.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Think about how small your family life is–how little direct impact you make on the workings of society. But then, remember the “yes” of Mary, and consider Jesus’ parable of the mustard seed…ask Him, by the grace of His Kingdom in your heart, to take your “yes” to your spouse and family, your gift of self, and leverage it for the growth of the Kingdom of God in many hearts.

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Idolatry and Freedom

Golden Calf

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


Sometimes we talk metaphorically about how today’s golden calves are money and sensuality. So, whereas the Israelites worshiped a golden idol at Sinai, we worship our own base passions of greed, laziness, lust, etc.

This metaphor may feel recent, but it originates with St. Paul, right in today’s first reading. Those who give themselves over to these things are committing, directly or indirectly, a sin against the First Commandment, by not loving God above all things, and putting something else ahead of Him.

Because we are attached to sin, we may feel as though the prohibition against sin is a constraint, a sort of shackles, which prevents us from doing what we want. We are like a horse tethered to a post for so long that he no longer knows what it means not to be tethered, and enjoys chewing on the leather with which he is tied. When the master comes to free him from the tether, he balks and fights, afraid to lose his chew toy, not realizing at all how much greater a joy freedom brings than the taste of his old tether.

Freedom from sin is very much like freedom from a debilitating physical condition–like the horse’s tethered state, or like the crippled woman’s inability to stand up straight in today’s Gospel passage. Hence Jesus often heals and forgives sins at the same moment, freeing the whole person, in their physical and spiritual reality.

If the Christian life feels onerous to us, this is an illusion; it means simply that we haven’t tasted it in its fullness. It has been said that falling in love with God is the opposite process, in a sense, to falling in love romantically. With romantic love, we feel strong attraction, and on the basis of that attraction come to a place of commitment. With love of God, He asks us to commit first in faith, fully, and then over the course of our lives reveals the glory of that in which we have invested.

Our best tastes of freedom in God are yet to come.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Tell Jesus of the attachments you feel to created realities, and even habits of sin. Tell Him of your weakness and the difficulty you encounter in becoming free to choose Him consistently. Ask Him to send you the Holy Spirit to supplement with the strength and clarity that you don’t have. Will a father give his son a scorpion when he asks for an egg? Much less, then, will your Father in Heaven refuse the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him (cf. Lk. 11:12-13).

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Crazy Love

Candy Hearts

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


Today’s Gospel represents perhaps the most important teaching of Jesus, inasmuch as it sums up all the others. Love God with everything you are, and love your neighbor as yourself. Loving God means seeking union with Him in prayer and the sacraments, and obeying His will like a faithful child; loving neighbor means passionately seeking others’ welfare, even though they are imperfect sinners.

And loving neighbor includes doggedly pursuing the welfare of the least fortunate, those who are suffering want, as the first reading tells us. Too often we Christians forget that looking after the needy is not an optional tack-on to our faith, but rather is a core demand of Him who commands us to love our neighbor as ourself.

These messages of love, very difficult to follow because the require deep faith on the one hand and sacrificial charity on the other, are the same messages that St. Paul tirelessly preached to the gentiles in city after city.

Despite his unconquerable faith and hope, St. Paul must have felt discouragement at times. Was this thing ever really going to take off? For Christianity, so new and vulnerable in the hearts of the communities he founded, to survive when he was gone must have seemed like it would require a massive miracle.

But then we see accounts like that found in today’s second reading, where Paul congratulations the Thessalonians not only for keeping the faith, but ultimately spreading it just as he did, with conviction and passion. Moments like this must have really bolstered Paul’s hope.

Sometimes it feels like we’re the only ones crazy enough to embrace unconditionally Jesus’ message. As such, we feel impotent to pass it on to others. When spreading Christ’s message to others, we have to remember that our words are not the protagonist of conversion, but rather nothing more than a catalyst–the grace of Christ working directly in the human heart is the only protagonist of conversion, salvation, and sanctification.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to make you a catalyst of His redemption. Tell Him you give Him your whole day and your whole life and, even while mindful of your sins, ask Him to take that gift and use it to extend in other souls the same sort of experience of Him and conviction that He has given to you.

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The Gardener

Fig Tree

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


Today’s readings seem to depict a flow of the potential intended by glorious, idealistic love, terrible waste, and mercy that never stops hoping or lowers the original ideal.

St. Paul speaks about the lofty ideal to which God has called us, namely, the “full stature of Christ,” to “grow in every way into him who is the head, Christ.” Jesus Christ is God, in intimate union with the Father and the Trinity, and it is right into the heart of this dynamic that He wants to take us (cf. Jn. 17:21). This ideal is so exalted, that there is no way we can attain it without God Himself taking on the role of protagonist of our individual spiritual growth, and He does this, which is exciting.

In fact, He, Jesus, is the gardener from the parable in the Gospel, who cultivates our souls actively and lovingly.

Then comes the tragic part: The fig tree, representing our soul, bears no fruit, despite all the cultivation. Sins of pride and sensuality distract us and hinder Jesus’ work of cultivation. This parable is reminiscent of the parable of the owner of the vineyard, who keeps looking for fruit at harvest but finds none (cf. Mk. 12:1-12). It is truly tragic, because to bring us to the great ideal of glory and happiness He has designed for us, Jesus has fertilized the tree with His own blood.

But this isn’t the end of the story. The owner of the garden is inclined to uproot the pointless tree, but the gardener pleads for another year to keep working it. Jesus keeps mercifully knocking on the door, asking permission to come in and bring His work of cultivation to completion.

Still, in this dramatic dynamic, it is important to note that the story ends with our freedom. If we obstinately refuse to the gardener’s overtures, the outcome in the end, like that foretold for the fig tree, is destruction.

We can draw hope in our Lord’s persistence with us, though, from the history of Israel and the Church. Despite the many horrid sins of the leaders of the People of God throughout the ages, and of the people themselves, He continues cultivating.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Reflect on your sins–the ways you simply refuse to step up to the fullness of what Jesus is calling you too. Consider how intensely He loves you, how excited He is about your destiny, and how tragic it is to disappoint that destiny. Happily, now, in prayer, is your opportunity to hand Jesus the keys to the garden of your heart. Tell Him without any reservation that you only want the destiny He has prepared for you, and ask Him to ensure that this destiny is fulfilled.

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That They May Be One

Unity

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


Unity among Christians is not a sentimental warm fuzzy. It is a fruit of profound orientation to the welfare of neighbor, and determination to serve that welfare–on all levels, temporal and eternal–to the point of sacrifice.

When two or three persons, or a whole community, bear this attitude toward one another and share the same faith in Christ, we have Christian unity.

Jesus makes no bones about it in today’s gospel: Work for unity, or face negative consequences.

Likewise, in the first reading, St. Paul urges us to bear with one another with love, striving to preserve the unity of the spirit through the bond of piece.

Virtually the entire seventeenth chapter of St. John’s Gospel is dedicated to recount a prayer uttered by Jesus to the Father begging for unity among His followers, made more poignant by the fact of its utterance at the most intense moment of His life, just prior to His death.

Elsewhere, St. Paul talks about putting away the “old man” (our former way of being, before knowing Jesus and answering His call) and putting on the “new man” (the way of being characteristic of transformation in Christ) (cf. Eph. 4:22).

It is not about just “all getting along.” Rather, there is simply no characteristic more indicative of mature Christian transformation than the theological virtue of Charity, whereby the welfare of neighbor is truly as important to us as our own. It is a gift, not acquired as a habit through practice, and the sure path to receiving it is consistent time spent with Jesus in prayer and the sacraments.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Consider the Charity necessary for Jesus to leave paradise and become a little child, with the grim mission of dying for our sins. Consider that He wants for you that very same Charity in your heart. Ask Him to grant it to you, humbly acknowledging that you cannot acquire it by effort. Tell Him that you want to want what He wants for others, more than you want anything else.

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Not Peace but a Sword

Sword

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


Why did Jesus, per today’s Gospel passage, come to create division and set family members against each other? This doesn’t sound very Christian. At least, not in the Ned Flanders brand of Christianity, the ding-dong-diddly let’s-all-be-friendly kind of way.

If we wish to follow Christ, we have to stomach today’s gospel.

Christianity creates division not just because its moral code is tough to follow, or because of belief in difficult things like the Trinity and the Eucharist. Christianity causes division, often bitter division, because it invites us to a radical transformation of our nature through intimate participation in the divinity. This transformation is difficult and painful, and, Christianity tells us, necessary for our happiness. Many consciously decline to pursue the path of Christianity because it involves radical and difficult transformation, and the awareness–perhaps subconscious–that happiness is not possible without that transformation causes bitterness.

So, it is an empirically observable phenomenon that many who choose not to follow the path of Christ are bitter toward those who do.

It is in this sense that Christ has come to cause division–only in the sense that the exaltation and glory, and associated transformation, that He offers us in association with salvation is so very radical.

But it is in this same glorious transformation that St. Paul exalts in the first reading: “That you, rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the holy ones
what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.”

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Meditate on the crucifix, the price your salvation cost Jesus, and consider the how great the glories described in the first reading must be in light of that cost. In full knowledge that the transformation Jesus wishes to perform within you is radical, and that it involves sharing His cross and suffering, tell Him that you choose Him unconditionally, forever, and ask Him for the grace and strength to stay faithful to Him.

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Saving Mission

Coast Guard

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


Today’s readings combine in an interesting manner. In the first reading, in talking about his own special mission and how much he appreciates it, St. Paul illuminates not only the providential nature of his own calling, but the providential nature of the history of salvation. Paul clearly sees the entire unfolding of the Old Testament–patriarchs, prophets, kings, etc.–leading up to the culminating moment of salvation in Christ. But the drama doesn’t end there. After Christ, each Christian has a pre-planned role to play as well, and if indeed St. Paul is gifted with great clarity regarding his own, that of each Christian is no less clear in God’s eyes. And, while Paul’s role is particularly foundational for the Church as it forms the Gospel’s bridge to the gentiles, each Christian’s role is similarly critical because it involves a special call to help bring others–specific others, in God’s heart and mind–to their eternal salvation.

This is the service to which Jesus refers in the Gospel. There is a beautiful reference to God’s mercy for those who fail to live up to their calling due to ignorance. But make no mistake: The service that St. Paul performed, and which we too are called to perform, is deadly serious. There are no higher stakes than the eternal welfare of those for whom Jesus poured out His blood. These may be our children if we are married, our flock if we are priests, the recipients of our message if we are missionaries, but importantly–for all of us–those for whom we pray and offer the sacrifice of our daily gift of self to God in this broken world.

Not one of us here on earth, no matter what our circumstances, is deprived of the supreme means and supreme duty of prayer, self-giving, and sacrifice offered in union with the cross of Christ for the enlightenment of those who do not know Him, the strength of those too weak to follow Him, the rousing of the indifferent to enthusiasm for Christ, and the conversion of sinners.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Meditate on the mission of St. Paul. Preaching, missions, writing–the founding of the Church among the gentiles. Consider also, though, that perhaps 90% of his time was consumed in mundane and arduous tasks such as travel. He could have focused on this, rather than the enormity of privilege which was his calling in Christ. Now consider your own calling. Perhaps you think it inglorious by comparison. But is it possible that you undervalue it due to a lack of the eyes of faith? Ask Jesus to inflame your heart with passion for His mission of bringing persons back to Him, and a sense of gratitude for the privilege of cooperating with Him in it.

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