Matthew Williams – Page 27 – Meditation on Daily Mass Readings

October 10, 2020September 20, 2020

Amusement Park Lines

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

St. Paul’s juxtaposition of the Old and new Testament periods, to which in a general way he refers as the Law and Faith, is fascinating and rich, and includes many deep layers.

Today, he tells us that the Law held God’s people under discipline as they awaited liberation by faith, that is, by the unmerited and free gift of redemption in Christ, which no amount of adherence to the Law could deserve. The image comes to mind of schoolchildren on a class trip to an amusement park waiting in an orderly line for the park to open. The discipline of the line is certainly not the liberating joy of the park–but it is a prerequisite for getting in.

One fascinating layer of this is that this dynamic applies not only to the Old and New Testaments, but also to the spiritual life of each of us. In so many words, St. Teresa of Jesus, from 16th-century Avila in Spain, teaches us that as we get underway in the spiritual life, much of our focus is on the effort of clearing our lives of voluntary sin, which she compares to the clearing of a garden for planting. At some point, we have a taste of God that really turns our head around. Then, we find that in order to live a life in God, we need to change our lives. Upon which follows the arduous work that St. Teresa describes of removing voluntary sin, both big and small, from our lives.

Needless to say, the effort to avoid sin continues throughout the whole trajectory of our spiritual growth. But it is particularly central earlier in that trajectory.

This effort to avoid sin, that is, essentially, to follow the Ten Commandments, closely resembles the Old Testament rule of Law that reigned before the coming of Christ, which Paul describes. Even though Christ has already come to save us, we go through a period when we need to really focus on following the basics of Divine Law, in order to align our lives with acceptance of His free gift of salvation.

But like the Old Testament period of Law-focused preparation, our focus on avoiding sin is less like the joy of the amusement park and more like the discipline of the line to get in. Perfection in this discipline, as much as it might be the ideal we strive for, is not our ultimate destination, any more than it is in the amusement park line. As we progress in our life in Christ, and in particular, our contemplative prayer life, the experience of Jesus Himself becomes deeper and richer and eventually supersedes the experience of our own sin and the need to rid ourselves of it. We begin to experience the joy of the park that we will only experience fully in Heaven, and our spiritual life begins to focus on it.

Interestingly, St. Teresa and St. John of the Cross also describe how deeper moments of purification can follow after great periods of the “joy of the park.”

Two things to note here: 1) We must not rush the process of purification or grow impatient with it. God is very wise about human nature embedded in time, and that our nature needs time for purification and growth. The humility to accept God’s will associated with every phase in our spiritual growth itself is a beautiful gift to God and sign of a certain spiritual maturity. 2) We will never fully escape here on earth the need for great vigilance against sin and the sometimes discouraging awareness of our spiritual weakness and fragility. But if we make the sacrifice associated with this very realization our daily gift to God, he uses that gift as a great lever that brings disproportionate blessings and an outpouring of the grace He merited on the cross into our lives and the lives of many souls in need.

“Rather, blessed are those who hear the word of God and observe it,” Jesus says in the Gospel. This means following God’s lead in our spiritual life–which may mean heavy emphasis on following the Commandments and avoiding sin at certain moments in our spiritual life, and focusing on simply enjoying God’s presence for a deepening of our union with Him at others.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Jesus indirectly references the Blessed Virgin Mary in today’s Gospel passage as her who “hears the word of God and observes it.” Meditate on her instruction at the wedding at Cana: “Do whatever He tells you.” (cf. Jn. 2:5) She modeled this instruction in her own life, following God’s lead without missing a beat, even when it jolted her in a moment out of one whole reality and into another at the Annunciation. Chat with her about her expertise in this area, and ask her to help you discern God’s promptings in your spiritual life.

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October 9, 2020September 18, 2020

The Curse of God

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

In the first reading, St. Paul explains some beautiful theology about how only faith in God saves; abiding by the law cannot save anyone. Essentially, the best you can do by keeping the law is a non-negative. By following the law, even, we may say, the Ten Commandments, the best we can do is avoid heaping additional condemnation (“curse”) on ourselves through additional sin.

Since following the law cannot save, the implication is that condemnation is already upon us, even before we transgress the law for the first time. This is the doctrine of original sin.

When Paul says that faith alone saves, he is not saying that whether or not we follow the Ten Commandments does not matter. Rather, he is saying that a non-negative isn’t going to get us out of the rut of condemnation we’re already in. We need the “strong man” from today’s Gospel passage, God Himself in the flesh, to go beyond the non-negative to a net positive–to blow the doors of the cell of condemnation in which we have enclosed ourselves through sin, and release us to be free in Him once more.

And this salvation comes free of charge–all we need is to believe in it, to have faith like that of Abraham.

When speaking about the curse hanging over us from which Christ saves us, St. Paul uses a striking image: “Cursed be everyone who hangs on a tree.” (Cf. Dt. 21:23) In the book of Deuteronomy, a book of the law, it is mandated that a corpse hanged on a pole for a capital offense not be left overnight, because a corpse hanging on a tree is a curse of God.

The capital offender has done what St. Paul describes. He has heaped condemnation upon himself by the most grievous offense of the law. As such, his corpse on display represents God’s curse.

But in reference to this passage from Deuteronomy, Paul emphasizes that “Christ ransomed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us” by becoming the one whose corpse hangs from the tree. By becoming the curse of God. No wonder Christ utters those mysterious words from the cross, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” (cf. Mt. 27:46) He has taken the place of the capital offender and, hanging from the tree, has become the curse of God. “For our sake,” Paul tells us elsewhere in arguably the most striking statement in all his writings, the Father “made him to be sin who did not know sin, so that we might become the righteousness of God in him.”

This is the degree of the love of God for us.

So when you call out to Him with a need, will He not hear you?

So it is, as today’s Alleluia verse tells us, that “The prince of this world will now be cast out, and when I am lifted up from the earth I will draw all to myself, says the Lord.”

In today’s Gospel passage, Jesus explains why he can’t be casting out demons by the power of another demon. The demon is safe from expulsion until one stronger than he–that is, not another demon, on the same plane of power as he–comes along. Only when one stronger comes along, Jesus, the Son of God, is the demon cast out. (cf. Jn 12:31-32)

Today’s gospel thus explains the dynamic described by St. Paul. In the act of becoming the curse of God, and thus removing our curse, Jesus is the strong man by whom “the prince of this world will now be cast out.” And so it is that, lifted up to the earth, as the condemned man on the tree, the curse of God, Jesus draws all men to Himself, and grants them the free gift of salvation that they could never achieve on their own, even through perfect fulfillment of the law.

If God the Father is the Creator, and Christ the Redeemer, then Christ’s Redemption is the the Father’s most awe-inspiring creation in the history of the universe.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Gaze at a crucifix and behold the curse of God: Christ voluntarily become sin to save you. When we do not trust in Christ’s power and love for us, it is like the slap in the face that the soldier gave him before the Sanhedrin (cf. Jn. 18:22). Ask Jesus to help you to love Him by trusting in His mercy for you, and by trusting in His power to direct your life on the path of happiness.

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October 8, 2020September 18, 2020

Opening the Locked Door

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

“O stupid Galatians!” There’s a phrase to grab your attention.

In today’s first reading, St. Paul is frustrated with the Galatian community, who seem to have fled the saving path of faith for the apparent security of following Christianity legalistically, like some sort of rule book. As often is the case, here we see fear, and the consequent quest for false securities, as the enemy of the Christian life.

In Paul’s frustration, we see reflected God’s own frustration with human obstinacy and its close relative, clouded understanding, as articulated in Isaiah and referenced by Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew: “Gross is the heart of this people, they will hardly hear with their ears, they have closed their eyes, lest they see with their eyes and hear with their ears and understand with their heart and be converted, and I heal them.” (Mt. 13:15; cf. Is. 6:10)

The darkening of the human intellect–our inability to hold onto an understanding of basic concepts, particularly regarding God, and perhaps more poignantly, our inability to sustain a common-sense hierarchy of values–is a direct effect of original sin. If we are honest, St. Paul’s railing against the Galatians could easily be directed at any one of us.

How often we struggle to make prudential decisions, about which we have an uneasy sense that the answer is obvious, sitting there right in front of us–but we cannot grasp it.

A good example of where we see a darkening of the intellect is the political sphere. On an ongoing basis, we observe that good people confuse priorities and express stupid judgements about what should be prioritized in their voting. And, as much as we might like to, can we cannot universally attribute this phenomenon to pure evil in their hearts. As the philosophical principle known as Hanlon’s razor wisely states, “Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.”

How are we to escape this state of affairs, both for ourselves and for our fellow humans?

The answer: Ask.

To our darkened minds, the truth–especially the deeper truth about the meaning of our lives, and the priorities that should stem from that–is like a locked door. We have a set of keys, and many seem to fit the lock, maybe even slide into it, but prove not quite the right shape to unlock it: An elevated IQ, philosophical effort, appeals to “common sense.” Many of the most intelligent people, exerting a great philosophical effort, have made grand and laughable mistakes about life’s most important questions. Many of those who appeal to “common sense” display massive, critical blind spots that everyone seems able to perceive except they themselves.

But in today’s Gospel passage, Jesus gives us the answer: “Knock, and the door will be opened to you.” As much as we may chafe at the reality, God is the owner and keeper of the deeper truths, and our minds simply cannot access them adequately and without risk of gross error, without His help.

But thankfully, Jesus tells us, “If you then, who are wicked, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?” And indeed, it is precisely the Holy Spirit who is the key to unlocking the door to enlightenment regarding important truths.

The gifts of the Holy Spirit cited by the Church are wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety, and fear of the Lord. Note in that list wisdom, understanding, counsel, and knowledge–each of which bears on the enlightenment of the intellect.

It is OK to recognize our darkened intellect, and we need not burden ourselves with the responsibility of illuminating it on our own. If we ask God humbly for the Holy Spirit, just as a good Father would not hand his son “a scorpion when he asks for an egg,” our prayer will not go unheard. Let’s remember to ask for the same gift for others as well, and in fact for all our fellow countrymen, so that we might as a nation be led along an enlightened path–one which favors as many reaching eternal happiness as possible.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus simply and humbly for the gift of the Holy Spirit, to enlighten your understanding, for your sake and for the sake of those you love. Speak with Him about the key priorities that even good people don’t seem able to grasp, and ask Him for their enlightenment, out of love for their welfare as opposed to any false sense of superiority.

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October 7, 2020September 16, 2020

Bicker, Bicker

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

There is something of a sweet contrast today between the gospel and the first reading.

In the gospel, the disciples ask Jesus how to pray–and his answer is beguilingly simple. The version of the Our Father that we have before us simply praises our heavenly Father with the confidence of a son or a daughter, and asks for the basics that we’ll need for our day and for life–especially, that we not be tempted away from our relationship with God.

By contrast, in the first reading, we have an account of what seems like St. Paul and St. Peter bickering about a trifling little disciplinary rule about what kind of foods to eat, and in what company. The account reads almost a little gossipy: “Then he did this…” “And I told him right to his face not to be hypocritical…”

Upon first pass, the first reading appears uninspiringly earthly and human; the gospel, ethereal, simple, divine.

But wait, there is a link between the two! St. Peter is present in both! Maybe he is the problem!

In actuality, despite appearances, and despite His teaching about the seed falling among the thorns that are the cares and ambitions of this life, Jesus did not come to rid us of the annoying complexities of life. In fact, more broadly, He did not come to remove the taint of original sin that seems to make everything so difficult, complicated, and tiresome. In fact, when it comes to strictly avoiding a change to such things, we can almost imagine Jesus tiptoeing around, like a man carefully making his way through a cluttered bedroom to avoid waking his sleeping wife. Why? Because the reality of sin, with its consequences, is something that, as a race, we have freely chosen. He did not come to earth to revoke that freedom, but to provide an open door to choose God again.

If we feel the inclination to laugh at the tension arising between Peter and Paul, the laugh may die in our throat if we imagine how dumbfounded they would be at our modern obsession with taxes, business meetings, and renewal of our driver’s licenses and license plates. If we’re honest, our lives are much fuller of trifling complexities than theirs. And it’s precisely these sorts of trifles that get us into a bad mood and make us snippy with our neighbor.

Despite the apparent contrast between the tone of these readings, it is precisely into these daily laundry lists and trifles that the Our Father is meant to enter. We’re not called to skate above them, never touched by frustration over the fact, for example, that a meaningless but necessary task that should have taken an hour took a day. Rather, we are called to have an ongoing sense in our hearts of what is essential, even while experiencing that frustration, even while we’re deep in it–and to renew that perspective often–often, and consistently, in prayer, in time spent with God.

All things considered, Peter and Paul did a pretty good job. I’m giving them an “A.” Peter was concerned not to scandalize the Jewish Christians, and Paul was concerned not to act duplicitously and thus scandalize the Gentile Christians. The matter of what food to eat may appear trifling to us, but their concern was the salvation of souls. In fact, in another place, Paul says the following about eating: “Therefore, if food causes my brother to sin, I will never eat meat again, so that I may not cause my brother to sin.”

The stakes of this tension were actually quite high. But they hashed it out together, honestly and courageously, face to face, and ultimately preserved unity and forged forward.

If the saints experienced tensions, let’s not imagine some utopian life of easy and perfect relations for ourselves by reason of our Christianity. Jesus decided to take flesh and descend into the heart of our messy reality–so in our prayer life, let’s bring Him into everything, and by the invaluable power of the Holy Spirit, He will infuse into us the wisdom to make good decisions within the imperfect mess and the tensions, while ultimately keeping a healthy, eternal perspective–even amidst our frustrations.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Call to mind a recent moment of human interaction that frustrated you, perhaps with a loved one or coworker. While bearing that moment in mind, pray the Our Father over it, slowly. See how, while these moments and frustrations are inevitable, God can inject His grace, wisdom, and perspective into them. Ask Jesus to accompany you through the complexities of your day and to fill you with the virtue of Charity, of love, even in the midst of frustration over trivialities. For, as today’s psalm tells us, “steadfast is his kindness toward us, and the fidelity of the LORD endures forever.”

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October 6, 2020September 16, 2020

The Adventure

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

St. Paul’s point in the first reading may initially elude us. It sounds a bit prideful, perhaps. He talks about how, after his conversion on the road to Damascus (where he was famously cast down from his horse, heard the voice of Christ, and was rendered blind), he didn’t go and consult with the original apostles at first. In fact, only after three years did he go and visit Cephas, that is, St. Peter.

Union with the Magisterium of the Church, that is, the Pope and the bishops who teach in communion with him, is critical for the healthy spiritual life and sound doctrine of any believing Catholic. When reading St. Paul’s words today, we may be reminded of modern-day “dissenters” who distance themselves from the Magisterium in their beliefs and teachings.

But Paul in no way distanced himself from the doctrines that Peter and the others were teaching. Nor is he implying today that he was somehow superior to them or exempt from unity with them. Indeed, he says, as the original apostles heard about him, they glorified God, having heard that “the one who once was persecuting us is now preaching the faith he once tried to destroy.”

So, what is Paul’s point? He himself seems to be glorifying God in this passage. For what? For disunity? To the contrary. He is glorifying God because, even though he didn’t have occasion to meet with the apostles for a time, he was initiated into his faith and sustained in it by his experience of Jesus–that is, by the work of the Holy Spirit in him.

Sometimes we can focus so heavily on union with the Magisterium that we neglect to learn directly from God in our prayer life. Perhaps we look for doctrinal answers for our own very specific personal situation in Church documents. While these documents can and should inspire us in our personal spiritual life, they are not there to provide an answer key to each particular situation. That is where the richness of our own contact with God in prayer comes in. This is the ambit of the Holy Spirit’s work in our hearts.

Of course, we must actively form ourselves in familiarity with the teachings of the Church. In terms of what we need to know, they are not all that complicated. We have the Ten Commandments; the Creed; the Sacraments; and the liturgical year that we experience at Mass. We also have some special dogmas that have been solemnly declared by the Church throughout the centuries as having in fact been held as a common understanding by the faithful from the earliest days, such as the Assumption of Mary. Also, there are clarifications of how to apply the Ten Commandments and the Law of Charity to particular modern issues, such as issues touching on the sanctity of life, and social issues.

But applications of the Law of Charity to our own life, and the nuances of our own relationship with God within this general framework that the Church gives us, are exciting, ultra-personalized experiences that God has waiting for us in our own prayer life and life with Him in the sacraments. Even though many have dissented from the Church’s teaching over the centuries, if we have the overall, non-negotiable intention to be faithful to those teachings, there is no reason to fear excessively about the personal and special inspirations that the Holy Spirit has prepared for us within our own hearts. We can trust Him!

For indeed, this is the “better part” that God commends Mary of Bethany for choosing in today’s Gospel passage. Mary has chosen to experience Jesus Christ by sitting at His feet. For us too, there is no more enriching or fulfilling adventure that personally experiencing Him in our prayer and in the sacraments.

It can also be a great help to engage a trusted spiritual director for counsel–again, not as the source of all the answers, but as a beneficial sounding board.

Like the Psalmist today, we can ask God, “Guide me, Lord, along the everlasting way.” And He will answer that prayer.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to send His Spirit to lead you on the personalized adventure of spiritual growth that He has planned for you. Commit to Him that you want nothing other than to follow His will as a faithful son/daughter of the Church. Ask Him to help your heart to grow in love for the Church, with all its divine guidance and all its humanity, as you go deeper into your personal journey of spiritual growth with Him.

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October 5, 2020September 15, 2020

Heresy: How to Win Friends

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

In today’s first reading, Paul lays down for all time a precedent for rigorous defense against heresy. He does not say that those who preach a gospel different from the gospel of Jesus should receive an audience and respectful dialogue. He says they are to be accursed. Twice.

Of course, Paul’s intent is not to urge us to treat others who think differently from us with disrespect or disdain (or to burn them at the stake). He himself opens a respectful dialogue with pagans at the Areopagus (cf. Acts 17).

Rather, he calls out what a grave sin it is to mislead the flock of Jesus with false teachings. The history of the Church is full of men who teach falsely, often for one of two reasons: 1) To reduce a profound, mysterious truth to a false image that, however, is more understandable for people (e.g. Arianism), and 2) To circumvent the more difficult and uncomfortable demands of Christianity (e.g. Modernism). The object of both of these distortions appears to be the attraction of more followers through greater ease; ultimately, worldly, human vanity.

We may not be called upon to preach publicly in defense of Christian truth against heresy. But Paul’s message holds a lesson for us. Too often we’d like to “dumb down” the Gospel in our own lives, to make it easier for ourselves. We also would often like to make Christianity more aligned to the views of the many nice people in the world around us, to allow ourselves to feel less like a fish out of water, and to make it easier to get along.

Faithfulness to the difficult ideal of the Gospel does not mean all of us are called out into the desert to live as hermits, and it certainly does not mean that we should shun our neighbors or call down God’s wrath on them.

Rather, all the purity, difficulty, challenge, and exalted excellence of Christ’s message is summed up in the words of the scribe today’s gospel, which Jesus immediately affirms: “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” True, humble love of God and our neighbor will incline us away from anything that offers an easy solution, for ourselves or others, down the wrong path.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Tell Jesus that you will follow wherever He leads, even if it is to Calvary. Ask for His help never to be separated from Him through your own love of ease, comfort, and the esteem of others. Ask Him to help you persevere in your resolution to follow Him and His message, as challenging as it is, in its fullness.

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October 4, 2020September 15, 2020

Transfer of Power

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

Rarely do we see the continuity of Scripture more eloquently on display than in today’s readings.

The first reading talks about a vineyard carefully planted and cultivated by its owner in a fertile place, which subsequently only produced wild grapes. The vineyard owner then tears down the walls in frustration and allows the vineyard to be trampled by wild animals. The psalm seems to follow without missing a beat with the next chapter of the story, where the psalmist prays for the ruined vineyard–clearly, a metaphor for the house of Israel, which has been unfaithful to God and which God has punished.

There could be little doubt that Jesus’ reference to the vineyard is a direct reference back to the original passage from Isaiah; any doubt is quickly dispelled by a look at the details of Jesus story. Jesus’ vineyard owner specifically digs a wine press and builds a watchtower for the vineyard, exactly like the vineyard owner from Isaiah.

But Jesus’ parable contains a new twist. This time, it’s not the vineyard itself, the house of Israel, that is at fault, but rather its caretakers, who are tending to the vineyard on behalf of the owner. They mistreat servants sent to collect the owner’s portion of the harvest, and the story culminates in their killing the owner’s son. By rejecting all those representing the owner, and ultimately his own son, their intent is essentially to take over the vineyard for themselves, stealing it from the owner.

Jesus takes Isaiah’s original allegory and broadens its scope. It is as easy as it is legitimate to see the leaders of Israel from His time represented by the evil tenants. But in reality, the representation reaches far more broadly. The vineyard is the entire world; humanity, its tenants. We reject God and take the possession of the world as if it were our own, as if we were the masters. It is we, with our sin, who rejected and crucified the Son, Jesus Christ. The story of the evil tenants is an eloquent allegory of the history of sin in the world, a history which continues today, as we militantly strive to eject any mention of God from the public square, and relegate any mention of Him to the private, enclosed precincts of those we wish to consider deluded. The material world is ours–ours to exploit, ours to protect, ours to own without any reference to its Creator, its legitimate owner.

Back to the limited reference to the leaders of Jesus’ time, we may think of His statement where the vineyard is taken away and given to those who will bear fruit as a reference of the removal of God’s covenant from Israel and its more perfect reestablishment with the Church in Christ. But St. Paul confirms, in fact, that the Jewish covenant was not removed, since the gifts of God are irrevocable (cf. Rom. 11:29).

Furthermore, it would be difficult to equate the new tenants who will “produce its fruit” unequivocally and without distinction as the leaders of the Christian Church throughout the ages–we have too many examples of corrupt and/or mediocre Christian leaders who do more than a passable job of mirroring the faults of the Pharisees condemned by Jesus. (It is of course not superfluous to mention that we have stellar examples of holy leaders of the Church as well as ancient Israel that we can look to for inspiration.)

The accurate interpretation of Jesus’ meaning can be read through the eyes of Mary, who said in her Magnificat, “He has thrown down the rulers from their thrones but lifted up the lowly” (Lk. 1:52). We see the same reflected in Jesus’ own startling utterances in the Beatitudes, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven”; “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the land.” (Mt. 5:3-5)

Jesus words are not about transferring worldly religious power from Israel to the Church; they are not about the transfer of worldly power at all.

They are about the paradox that definitive glory in the Kingdom of Heaven–and that glory is far greater than the paltry substitute glory of worldly power–belongs to those who have chosen to submit in loving obedience to God, detaching themselves from all else.

The transfer of importance from the powerful to the humble that Jesus is talking about can be glimpsed here on earth in the beautiful stature of the holy, but culminates ultimately only in heaven, where that stature reaches its fullness and radiates in a manner unconcealed.

Worldly power and wealth, on the other hand, is so irrelevant that it doesn’t even in itself keep us from the meekness and poverty of which the Gospel speaks–though, because we are bewilderingly weak and susceptible, its possession can be very dangerous in that regard, as it threatens to bedazzle and distract us.

The unexpectedly simple truth is that, whatever our state and station in life, all we need to do to become one of the enviable tenants who truly produce fruit is to submit our will in obedience to God, in detachment from created things; stay connected to Him through prayer and the sacraments; and follow the Holy Spirit’s inspirations, especially by looking after our neighbor. Then, as St. Paul tells us in the first reading, “the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Dialogue with Jesus about the worldly things that most distract your heart. What is it on earth that might lead you to want to take possession of creation for its own sake, like the evil tenants in today’s gospel? Ask Jesus to help you make joyful use of creation with gratitude and detachment, treating it as a constant manifestation of His greatness and love for you, especially by sharing its benefits with your neighbor.

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October 3, 2020September 14, 2020

Clay in the Hands of the Potter

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

We tend to divide our fellow humans into binary categories: Rich/poor, intelligent/less intelligent, successful/unsuccessful, etc.

From the perspective of eternal values, one useful (albeit simplistic) division is: Those who trust in God’s Providence and abandon their lives into God’s hands, and those who don’t–those who try to achieve success and happiness all on their own. Of course, like anything else, there is a limitless spectrum of degrees in between. Many of us trust God, but find ourselves wrenching the steering wheel out of His hands again and again and trying to take control of our lives, severely hampering the fruits of our trust.

When telling us to love our enemies in Mt. 5, Jesus points out how God takes care of everyone, good and bad: “He makes his sun rise on the bad and the good, and causes rain to fall on the just and the unjust.” (Mt. 5:45)

This may lead us to believe that God curates each life in an equally proactive manner. Then we may ask ourselves why some lead the most tragic and unhappy lives, why some people’s lives seem to be one random tragedy after another.

Of course, it must be said up front that those who place their lives in God’s hands don’t necessarily find themselves with more prosperity, ease, and predictability in this life.

But at the same time, when we consciously and consistently place our trust in God, it gives Him permission to curate our lives at a deeper level than He otherwise might, weaving all the events in our lives into a coherent love story at which we will marvel when we reach eternity. Like a potter, He shapes everything in our lives with the greatest personal care. He simply does not have that “freedom” in the lives of those who insist on control, because He checks His own action in our lives to some extent at the door of our freedom–freedom to trust and cede control, freedom to push Him out and retain control.

When we place our lives fully in His hands, He orders everything in them to our eternal welfare and to our happiness, even those things that appear tragic or random. Truly holy souls find His fingerprints all over the circumstances that befall them in life. It’s not just that they are more perceptive, although that certainly is a factor. It is because God in fact has taken the reins that these souls have handed over to Him, and He is working marvels for them and in them. As St. Paul tells us, “We know that all things work for good for those who love God.” (Rom. 8:28)

So it is for Job in today’s first reading. Because Job trusted, God was able to make of his life in the long term far happier than it would have been without that trust.

And in today’s Gospel passage, we see the seventy-two disciples returning in high spirits because they sensed God’s power working through them. At this Jesus cautioned them: “Nevertheless, do not rejoice because the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice because your names are written in heaven.” As much as we rejoice with gratitude when we perceive the effects of God’s loving Providence in this life, we must remember that this Providence is ordering everything to our eternal destiny–so there are some things that He does in our lives whose benefit for us may remain hidden until eternity. Our simple task: To trust; with today’s psalm, full of trust, to say, “Lord, let your face shine upon me.”

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Consider the events in your life that strike you as most mysterious, perhaps most painful and discouraging. Tell Jesus that, like Job in his deepest affliction, you place all your trust in His love and that you will not doubt it, even though you have trouble perceiving how the circumstances that befall you reflect His love.

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October 2, 2020September 14, 2020

God is Big, We are Little

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

Now, perhaps, we can challenge God, even though Job had no right to do so. Where is the home of the light? In the sun, we say, and we can say with some precision how far off it is. The abode of darkness? Outer space, where unlit by a burning ball of gas. Etc.

Perhaps we now have every right to challenge Him, for we know so much, and we are able to manipulate matter and energy as suits us.

To the contrary, on two counts:

1. Imagine living in a world like Job’s where the cause of everything is unknown and virtually unexplored. With all the evil and chaos in the natural world and the human world, an almost inescapable conclusion is that evil powers are as strongly at work as good in the course of the cosmos. And indeed, such was the rational conclusion of many primitive peoples. It took immense faith to believe in a good, providential, loving God as sole sovereign of the universe. Or rather, it took revelation–God’s personal revelation of Himself to humans–and then the faith of others in the word of those receivers of revelation.

Today, even though chaos remains very present to our perception, we have plumbed the depths of biological, geological, physical reality. We see the intricate and awe-inspiring interplay down to the cellular and molecular level of balanced, complementary forces that constitute a universe of order and design. We see the very fingerprints of God.

All the more, then, should we humble ourselves before Him as Job did, and place our destiny with all our hearts in the hands of this good God, who ordered creation so majestically, and who continues providing despite our sin.

2. The more honest scientists discover about reality, the more they realize they don’t know. The more honest engineers manipulate matter and energy, the more they realize how powerless they are before it, and how mysterious and mighty these natural forces are. The more doctors are able to heal, the more they realize that they are not the masters of life and death. God could well challenge us as He challenged Job: Have you ever traversed the sun, or traveled the expanse of the universe? Do you know what drives the smallest of material particles? Can you cure every disease or stop the advent of new maladies? Tiny man on earth, are you master of the vast universe?

And we would need to respond, like Job: “Behold, I am of little account; what can I answer you? I put my hand over my mouth. Though I have spoken once, I will not do so again; though twice, I will do so no more.”

Today is the memorial of the Guardian Angels. In today’s gospel, Jesus makes an argument for the need to hold children in high regard: “Their angels in heaven always look upon the face of my heavenly Father.” Perhaps a child seems of little importance, but each has been assigned one of the noblest creatures, an angel, to look after his/her every step. We must be humble before the Almighty. But it is comforting to know what Job knew: As tiny and insignificant as we are, God places all the focus of His loving Providence upon us, and we can rest in the palm of His hand.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Dialogue with Jesus about the awesomeness of creation, and how little we humans really have our heads wrapped around it. Ask Him why we earthlings are of such account to God–consider with Him our beautiful biology, and our unique attribute as free, intelligent beings. Ask Him why He Himself became man, and why He died for us. Pledge again your trust in Him; abandon your life into His hands. For despite our technology, when we take a step back, we realize we were never meant to solve the puzzle of our welfare and destiny on our own.

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October 1, 2020September 11, 2020

Evangelizing from Weakness

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

At first glance, today’s readings go together somewhat awkwardly. We have Job, who has just lost everything, expressing a moving, unconditional trust not only that he will receive good from the hand of God, but that he will receive the ultimate good–that He will see God Himself. The psalm echoes Job’s monumental hope: “I believe that I shall see the good things of the Lord in the land of the living.”

Then, in the Gospel passage, we see Jesus sending out the seventy-two disciples, two by two, on an exciting mission, where they will exercise His own evangelizing and healing power.

So, let’s put these two passages together. Imagine Jesus entering Job’s life, when he is bereft of everything, and even while Job is struggling and expressing his marvelous virtue of trust, Jesus asks him to launch forth on a mission.

Yet, when we think about it, this is, in fact, the situation of the apostle. While we don’t know much about the seventy-two, we do know that the twelve apostles had left their nets, left everything behind to follow God’s will in their lives. Like Job, they were bereft of everything except God, except Jesus. As for the seventy-two, they are asked to set forth on their mission without money or baggage–without even the bare necessities, and Jesus says He is sending them “as sheep among wolves.”

In our lives, Jesus does not ask us to spread the word about Him from a position of wealth, security, comfort, strength, or even incontrovertible human logic. He asks us to spread the word about Him from a position of neediness, vulnerability, and weakness.

Many hesitate to spread the word about Jesus to others, not because they doubt Jesus, but because they believe that they themselves do not have what it takes. Extreme trust like that of Job is in fact necessary to overcome this hesitancy, trusting not in our own qualities of persuasion, but rather in the direct power Jesus with His grace will exert in the human heart as it hears His message.

Today is the memorial of St. Thérèse of Lisieux. If anyone had an excuse not to evangelize it was she–she was cooped up in a cloister and had access to no one! And yet, because of her deep love for Jesus and desire for others to know Him, and above all her trust in His power, she successfully evangelized through her prayer, to such a degree that Pius XI declared her Patroness of the Missions in 1927.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus in what way He wants you to spread Him to other hearts. If the question is difficult for you, tell Him that you trust not in your own power for persuasion, courage, or good judgement, but rather you trust that He will let you know when and how He wants you to act.

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