Matthew Williams – Page 30 – Meditation on Daily Mass Readings

September 10, 2020August 26, 2020

The Engine of Charity

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

Sometimes St. Paul’s life presents itself, humanly speaking, as something of a lonely affair. He pours himself out continuously for others, “like a libation” (cf. 2 Tim 4:6), but he is unable to receive much affection in return: He travels too much to set down roots, and he lives in the midst of constant hardship and, ultimately, persecution.

And against this backdrop, consider the delicate sensitivity of his kindness and concern for others as expressed in the first reading. He is willing to forego eating meat because for some, the temptation to believe in idols is still very strong, and meat is the stuff of sacrifice to those idols.

His words clearly emphasize how important it is to consider the subjective situation of souls, even souls in error, when evangelizing. There are some in the Church that really believe that, if we are to be faithful, we must preach the bare, unvarnished truth in all its harshness without concern for others’ state, and let anyone who can’t take it “suck it up.” We sometimes forget that the reason Jesus Christ descended to earth and became man, and dragged a cross up a hill dripping in blood, was not to defend the unvarnished truth–but to make it accessible to people once again. And we forget how delicately and mercifully He has treated us in our own sin and error, and coaxed us toward the truth in a way respectful of our freedom and limitations.

Back to St. Paul. How did he keep giving so passionately, so selflessly, with such great sensitivity, in the midst of the physical and emotional harshness he endured every day? The answer lies in the Gospel.

In today’s Gospel passage, Jesus talks about extremes of charity (that is, selfless love of others) of the sort that St. Paul would come to embody. And He reveals at the end of the passage how such a lifestyle is sustainable. When you give yourself 100% to God, without holding anything back, and recklessly dedicate your whole life in His honor to the love and care of others, “gifts will be given to you; a good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing, will be poured into your lap.”

His intimate, personal love for us is that “good measure.” It is real. In a life that includes even a short period of daily contemplative prayer and frequent reception of the sacraments, that love is something we can experience right here on earth. It is something as powerful as it is subtle. It is so powerful that it is the only sustenance we need in a rugged life entirely given over to passionate striving for the welfare of others.

The life of reckless charity powered by Jesus’ personal, intimate love for us could not be more distantly removed from the pitiful life of those who set no boundaries and exhaust their lives “in service of others” motivated by the hopeless longing for some crumb of kindness, some word of recognition, from the ungrateful people they serve, who only disdain them in their emotional neediness.

Reckless charity like that of St. Paul is given from a position of strength that comes from the most fulfilling and intimate relationship of love with the only One who can never disappoint.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to help you persevere in prayer and grant you in His time the full experience of an intimate relationship with Him, which involves purification and crosses, but also the greatest of joy. Ask Him to be the engine that powers in you a life completely given over to charity, that is, to passionate effort for the welfare of those around you.

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September 9, 2020August 26, 2020

A Hot Second

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

The world, and sometimes unfortunately we in the Church, are after an earthly utopia. Since the 1800s, and certainly earlier in different ways, passion and focus have lain with improving man’s lot in life. Seek the most rational and beneficial form of government. Protect our resources. Strive for global harmony. Solve all ills and inefficiencies with technology. Increase leisure, decrease suffering.

When pursued in moderation, these objectives are beautiful, inspiring, exciting, good. The Church rightly in her social doctrine advocates for them.

But today’s readings betray how easily we place excessive importance on these objectives, when in reality we should pursue them with joy, serenity, and detachment. For their contribution to human happiness will inevitably be severely limited.

The saints could not be more unanimous in emphasizing the fleeting nature of life on earth relative to eternity, like a second compared to a year, like a speck of dust compared with the universe. Sure, it makes sense to make that second, that speck as “nice” as we can. But eternity is approaching like a speeding train. Much more important it is, to take the limited time we have and make our–and others’–eternity the best that it can be.

St. Paul emphasizes how imminent this oncoming eternity is. How soon the world is passing away. We may scoff and say that two thousand years, a long time, have passed since he wrote those words. But what if the world were to end today? Would that span of time seem really that extensive, for the full development in history of humankind? Would it seem that drawn out, compared to eternity?

More importantly–the world is ending for each one of us in just a few years. Uncomfortable thought, but no less real for all that.

St. Paul tells those who are weeping to act as if they are not; those rejoicing, to act as if they are not. The afflictions and triumphs of this life are so fleeting; it is as if they are already dust.

We are battling all over social media about politics, about today’s president, whom some hate and others love. A leading crossword published today included TAFT as answer to a clue about the president elected in 1908. Passions were similarly intense and polarized about that leader. But who, save specialized historians, remembers anything about Taft’s presidency, just 100+ years later?

“The world in its present form is passing away.”

But it is Jesus’ words in today’s gospel that give the most beautiful, poignant, poetic expression to the message of the value of time relative to eternity. For indeed, blessed are those who are completely and utterly detached from their worldly security and welfare, and cling to God as their sole fundamental good. They have invested wisely, for as the world vanishes they will be filled with divine joy.

Finally, today’s psalm likewise provides beautiful expression to this theme. It depicts a beautiful maiden who leaves her father’s house, arrayed in gold, to join her king at his right hand and live in his joy. Your soul is that maiden; this world is your father’s house, which you are already in the process of leaving; your beauty is the beauty with which God has created you; your gold raiment is God’s grace in your soul; and the king’s house, your destiny, is your life with God in eternity.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Look at the intense beauty of the world around you, consider the mind-boggling advancements in technology and science. Also, contemplate the intense ongoing tragedy of poverty and human injustice. Ask Our Lord: These intense realities–how important are they to Him? How does working for their betterment impact eternity? What view should you have of your life with regard to eternity? Sit with Him and dialogue with Him a while; allow His perspective to saturate your heart.

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September 8, 2020August 25, 2020

Baby Girl

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

Today’s readings celebrate the culmination of God’s radical, ingenious plan to reopen the door to heaven, slammed shut by the decision of human freedom, without circumventing or reversing that freedom. They describe His revolutionary, explosive, unexpected, unmerited intervention in human history, which He executes in a world darkened by human freedom, without curbing that freedom in the least.

How does He do it? How does He reverse what human freedom has chosen, while respecting that freedom?

The answer: It is human freedom that gives Him the permission, the perfect “yes” that welcomes Him and the eternal destiny He has desired for the human race back into the realm of the world. It is the express, verbalized, concrete “yes” of a specific person, a young maiden in about the year 0 BC in a little settlement in a middle-eastern province of the Roman Empire. It is this maiden whom the Fathers of the Church call the “new Eve,” because the exercise of her pure, perfect, unhindered freedom allows for the reversal of the damage done by the free choice of the original Eve.

In today’s gospel, we see in human, earthy terms the genealogy of Christ, the eternally-planned lead up to the moment of God’s radical intervention through Mary’s “yes.” Today’s Old Testament reading predicts the place, and the end of the gospel ties the Incarnation of Christ back to Old Testament prophecies. All of Scripture points toward and hinges on this pivotal event in history.

Today we celebrate the birth of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the figure who enables the revolution of God. She is not the protagonist of that revolution. But she is the model of the facilitation of God’s infinitely powerful and effective divine plan and action. As we contemplate the birth of this little baby girl to Sts. Joachim and Anne, as we look down on the beautiful face of this sinless child, we contemplate the most unique embodiment of the victory of Christ’s death and Resurrection. For it is by the application of the grace He merited, reversed in time, that Mary comes forth into the world free of the taint of Eve’s initial choice. Since the creation of man, this baby girl is the freest creature who has ever lived.

Among all the mind-blowing virtues displayed later in life by this simple girl, one that shines forth as critical for our imitation is the simplicity of her trust embodied in her “yes.” Do I believe that if I give such a free and complete “yes” to God, He will leverage that as He did hers to launch His revolution in the souls of today?

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Contemplate Mary as a baby, no more noticed by the world than any other child. Contemplate her simple, earthy upbringing. Compare this unremarkable reality to the remarkable destiny that is hears as Queen of the Angels, partner in Christ’s redemption. Now, contemplate the earthy reality of your existence. Is God unable to make of your life a catalyst of salvation, as He did Mary’s? Ask him to enlighten your heart and mind so that your life may be as gloriously meaningful in His plan of salvation as He has designed it to be.

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September 7, 2020August 25, 2020

Purification: A Means to an End

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

Purification from sin is not like purification of water, where the object is a clear, sterile substance free from contamination. The objective of purification from sin is not the purification itself, for the sake of a soul unaffected by external entities.

Rather, the process of purification from sin is like the removal of clutter from a launching pad so that a rocket–which, unlaunched, is just a collection of earthy metal and chemical fuel–can shoot beyond the stratosphere to an entirely new reality.

Far from the sterilization of a substance from all external influences, as with the purification of water, purification from sin is like cleaning up a room for a party. Welcoming the outsider is the whole point of this purification process, for it is the person from the outside–the friend, the family member–who brings joy and makes the whole process worthwhile. Only, in the case of purification from sin, the “outsider” is the divine Guest, God Himself, who transforms our lives and takes them beyond earthly joy to an entirely new stratosphere.

As we see in today’s dramatic first reading and psalm, purification from sin is a truly critical part of welcoming this Guest. St. Paul describes it as handing over the flesh to Satan, so that the spirit may be saved. Pretty intense image. Reminds one of Christ instructing the Pharisees to give to Caesar what is Caesar’s. Satan can have his sin. What we want is Christ.

Purification from sin is critical, for as today’s psalm says:

For you, O God, delight not in wickedness;
no evil man remains with you;
the arrogant may not stand in your sight.

Because of His own veneration of human freedom, and the limits He has put on Himself because of it, God cannot enter in where sin reigns. We must be fully purified of the reign of sin, like a clean room, before God can fully enter in as Guest of honor. Before the countdown sequence can begin to the launch of our souls to the infinite heights of God Himself.

And what is the destiny of this launch? What destiny are we preparing for as we “tidy up the launchpad?” Today’s gospel reveals it to us. It is certainly not sterile, perfect compliance with a dead book of rules that does nothing for anyone. The destiny is the infinitely potent Charity of the Heart of Christ. It is the passion, the thirst, and–importantly–the power, the glorious power to effect the salvation and happiness of our neighbor. It is the same powerful passion for others that leads God made man to cure a withered hand on the Sabbath.

Recently, a priest commented how the Holy Spirit is moving with His gifts in the world today–how we have those gifts at our fingertips, if we just have the faith to reach for them. Specifically, he was commenting how abundantly the Holy Spirit gives the gift of miraculous physical healing power to those who trust Him and reach out for that gift. It is the same gift by which Jesus heals in the gospel today.

But even more importantly, a life purified from sin and given over consciously and daily to God gradually grows in Charity to the point that that daily gift itself, regardless of how it manifests itself in external activity, brings about per se a continuous burst of additional actual grace from God, and many souls are healed, converted, and saved. If we knew the kinetic power of a purified soul, given to God in trust and love, all external endeavors would take on a relative importance to us and become filled with the joy of continuous awareness of our gift–the potency of our lives given freely and trustingly to God.

The destiny of purification is not purification itself, but the fullness of our lives to bursting with the joy of God and with His potent Charity.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to make your daily effort to turn to Him and away from sin not the drudgery of removing the impurities from something for the sake of purification, but the ordering of your soul for its true fulfillment in Him. Ask Him with passion and urgency to help you purify your soul so that He can enter in more fully. Most importantly, tell Him that the goal of your efforts is not your own spiritual “tidiness,” but your love for Him and for the people He loves. Ask Him in as your Guest, to fill your soul and your life completely, to bursting.

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September 6, 2020August 24, 2020

Prophets

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

We may become frustrated with “the Church”–by which we mean bishops and priests–at times because of their failure to proclaim tough messages. And indeed, today’s first reading warns the prophet that if he does not give the tough message, that is, the message about the need for conversion and the consequences of failing to convert, the prophet himself will be held accountable for the wicked man’s wicked ways.

And, we may rightly think of bishops and priests as today’s prophets, those entrusted with preaching the message of conversion. We may lament that they may appear surrounded by praise and enjoy a relatively care-free life in terms of their own material well-being. They can begin to prioritize sustaining status quo, and the temptation to complacency and “not rocking the boat” can be very real. It can be even more real at times, perhaps, than their own relationship with Christ in contemplative prayer, and their duty before Him to be prophets and (like Him) signs of contradiction.

When such thoughts get us down, we must remember 1) that the prevalence of complacency among leaders has afflicted the Church for all time, and even the people of Israel before Christ; 2) that bishops and priests are human beings with the same strong tendency to sin and mediocrity from which we all suffer, with circumstances that paradoxically make mediocrity even more tempting, and we must pray for them with a merciful heart; and 3) perhaps most importantly, that the prophetic mission does not belong solely to them, but also to you and me.

Every single Christian participates by baptism in the threefold mission and duty of the priest to act as “priest, prophet, and king”–to intercede and offer sacrifice for the Church, proclaim the message of the Gospel (with all its prickliness), and to lead the people of God to Christ.

Do we hold back tough messages that may be precisely what someone needs to hear to convert their hearts to Christ? Do we thereby put our worldly sense of security ahead of the eternal welfare of our neighbor? Are we too concerned about bland peace to provide others with the stimulus that will wake people up from their blithe stupor regarding their eternal destiny?

It is too easy to point the finger at bishops and priests–men who, after all, with all their imperfections, have given their whole lives over to service of the Church at great personal sacrifice–and never once turn the lens on ourselves. Yet we too, as Christians accountable for the prophetic mission of the Church, will be accountable for the wicked deeds of the wicked man, if we have the opportunity to warn him about the path he is on and fail to do so.

In today’s gospel, however, Jesus makes it clear that railing against the wicked from the top of tall buildings just for the sake of doing so has no value. Our aim must not be to check the prophet box, but really to lead others to a full conversion to Christ. This involves appealing to them in private, in words they can understand. We may also say that it involves picking our moment, and tailoring our expression of the message for greatest possible impact and likelihood of receptivity.

Still, we must never allow a false prudence, masking our own attachment to our personal comfort, keep us from words and actions that can lead others to the incomparable joy of a relationship with Jesus Christ–even if those words and actions involve awkwardness or risk to ourselves.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to send you His Holy Spirit to show you clearly when it is time to speak up for Christ. And trust Him to do so. He knows your weakness. He knows your reticence or, perhaps, your lack of tact–whatever it is that makes it difficult for you to be a prophet. And, just as a good father doesn’t give his son a scorpion when he asks for a fish, Jesus will not fail to send us the Holy Spirit to lead us reliably and avoid sins of prophetic omission, if we sincerely ask Him to do so. And, let’s be generous and merciful enough to humbly ask Him to do the same for our beloved bishops and priests.

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September 5, 2020August 24, 2020

Emotional Poverty for Others’ Enrichment

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

The same St. Paul who gives us the first reading also wrote in his second letter to the same audience, “For you know the gracious act of our Lord Jesus Christ, that for your sake he became poor although he was rich, so that by his poverty you might become rich.”

Paul describes himself today as called to be a poor, homeless outcast for the enrichment of the Christian communities. There is no doubt that in his own calling, he seen an extension of the mission of Christ in this specific vein.

Have you ever felt as though you sacrificed in a big way for someone else’s benefit? Have you ever kept the sacrifice hidden or downplayed it so as not to mitigate the happiness of the beneficiary through some sort of sense of debt to you?

This noble approach can bring with it a further sacrifice of a sense of sadness, an unintentional, unwanted feeling of self-pity for not being recognized and loved in the way that you yourself are loving. Such self-pity is not really selfishness, as long as we do not cast passive-aggressive guilt on others with our words, but rather the normal human reaction to a perception that we give more love than we receive.

We hear it a bit in Paul’s words today. The Christian communities are benefiting, and he is paying the bill. He doesn’t reproach the Corinthians for this state of affairs, but rather leverages it to encourage them not to be proud and boastful, but mindful that there is nothing that they have that they have not received.

Even today’s gospel contains overtones of the same sort of dynamic. In the act of “owning” the Sabbath, Jesus is providing for his disciples’ needs. Yet He is the one who is taking the slander for it, one more plank of resentment to form the cross upon which He will ultimately hang. He provides, He pays the price, and the disciples as usual come across as a bit oblivious.

And then, let us look at His Heart in the moment when He ultimately pays that price. Hanging on the cross, He cries, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?” We could imagine Him paying the price from the position of infinite wealth and abundance from His position as Second Person of the Blessed Trinity. But no, as Paul says, He has become poor. Needy. Emotionally, existentially needy. He has wanted and accepted this–to lift us up, not from a position of strength, but of poverty and weakness.

A feeling of loneliness, particularly one of unrequited love or a sense of ingratitude from others, is not something to be shunned as selfish self-pity, but a state to be embraced as one of the most privileged states within which to unite ourselves to Christ. It is one of the realest, deepest ways to experience something of the depths of what He experienced for us on the cross.

When we feel lonely, in embracing this cross, we can offer it for those we love, perhaps especially those loved ones from whom we are feeling some sense of ingratitude, whether real or subjective, whether lasting or fleeting. This compounds the value of whatever sacrifice we have made for those we perceive as ungrateful, taking a mere earthly gesture of generosity on our part and conferring upon it resounding, eternal value.

Like the value in the economy of salvation of the sacrifices that Paul offered for the early Christians, which powered evangelization itself.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Think of moments of loneliness that you have experienced, especially those harder moments of loneliness that have cut deeper because they have been occasioned by those you love. Now, contemplate the depth of loneliness that Christ experienced on the cross: Abandonment, confusion, ingratitude from the intimates whom He has been shepherding for three years–but also, emotional distancing from His own Father, His all in all. Tell Him that you are happy to experience the loneliness that comes from love and generosity whenever He should wish to share with you this gift, to win grace for souls as He did. Tell Him that you are willing to become poor, that others may become rich in Him, and that you trust Him to take care of all your needs.

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September 4, 2020August 23, 2020

I Don’t Know My Judgement, but I Do Know My Judge

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

Today’s readings are overflowing with abandonment to the loving sovereignty of God.

In the first reading, St. Paul takes nothing for granted. He does not consider himself acquitted–for he has yet to undergo the judgement of God. But we do not find him afraid, either. He certainly is afraid of no human tribunal. We find this borne out amply in his life; as promised, the Holy Spirit inspires in him what to say before the courts of men (cf. Lk. 12:12, Acts 23), and in the end, Paul goes to his martyrdom without fear.

But Paul, while considering himself not acquitted, also does not fear the judgement of God. He calmly and serenely submits to the fact that God will judge him. That he does not fear that judgement, even though he knows not the outcome beforehand, teaches us a great lesson.

Elsewhere, Paul tells us, “I know him in whom I have believed.” (2 Tim. 1:12) This is the key to the apparent paradox whereby Paul knows not the outcome of his own eventual judgement, and yet is not afraid. He knows Christ’s love for him so intimately, and leans on that love so completely, that “outcomes” are secondary to him. Judgement is not his main concern. His main concern is the love of Jesus Christ, for his life “is hidden with Christ in God.” (cf. Col.. 3:3)

The interesting thing is that Paul is not utterly “selfless” in this regard, that is, devoid of a healthy concern for his own welfare. Rather, what he ultimately relies on for his own welfare and happiness is not how virtuous he will be seen to be, but rather the love of Christ that he has experienced.

How beautifully his sentiment is echoed by today’s psalm: “The salvation of the just comes from the Lord.”

In the Gospel today, we find different times and circumstances calling for different behavior. When the bridegroom is present, no fasting occurs; when not, then comes the fast. We are not to remedy problems of today with the solutions tailored to yesterday. For those who treat Christianity as a rule book, this “inconsistency” can prove befuddling. Indeed, as times change and solutions evolve, those seeking absolute consistency in all things within Christianity can even come to despair of it.

Not so, those who adopt St. Paul’s attitude. Because the beauty of Christianity, the thing that intoxicates us, the pearl of great price for which we gladly sell everything else that we have, is the love of Christ. And when we understand that, we allow the personification of that Love–the Holy Spirit–to guide us day by day, through every changing time and circumstance, adjusting solutions on the fly. We have experienced the love of Christ, we have experienced the Holy Spirit, and we know that, even though “thousands fall around us” (cf. Ps. 91:7), He will not let us down.

Because we know Him in whom we have believed.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to help you to be faithful to your daily prayer commitment. Ask Him to build the relationship with Him that you long to have: A relationship of complete and total intimacy and trust, whereby your confidence in the Holy Spirit in your life is unfailing, solid as a rock. Ask Him to inundate you, until nothing–not even the outcome of your eternal judgement–is as important to you as leaning on His love.

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September 3, 2020August 23, 2020

Let Fishermen Be Fishermen

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

The Bible is chock full of paradoxes. Whoever loses his life will find it. The poor in spirit will inherit the earth. God chooses the weak to shame the strong. And as we see in today’s first reading, one must become a fool so as to become wise.

It is true that we must pass through these many paradoxes to attain the glorious destiny for which God has created us. But we must remember that the paradox only goes so far. The glory to which God calls us is real glory, the real and eternal glory, not some paradoxical version of glory. The eternal joy to which He calls us, which begins in a partial but exciting way here on earth, is not just real joy–it is an exalted joy that fills and even extends our human capacity for joy. That joy is free of any paradox.

The great many paradoxes in our faith trace back not so much to some sort of ironic sense of humor in our God, in our Creator, as they do to the often ignored but massive impact of the sin of our first parents on us, on all of us who have followed. The paradox ultimately lies in this: That Christ has taken the very worst of the consequences of sin–suffering and death–and turned them into the keystone of our salvation.

But again, because the paradox traces back to sin, the paradox itself ultimately dies with our mortal flesh; it is passing. As such, there is no need to apply it as a lens to every aspect of our human and spiritual lives.

It is a mistake, for example, to think that the virtuous version of ourselves will be a paradoxical complete reversal of our temperaments. If I am talented in leadership, virtue for me does not necessarily mean complete abdication of leadership. If I tend toward study and research, this does not necessarily mean that the virtuous version of me is someone who shuns the work of the intellect and seeks constant socialization and external interaction.

Rather, we see in the lives of the saints how holiness is the exaltation of our nature, with all its specificity and individuality, based on its purification, not from that specificity, but from sin. God doesn’t aim to take our individuality and temper it to the point that it is neutered of all that makes us special. Rather, He loves the particular aspects of what each of us is and longs to exalt that to become, well, itself–but with an injection of holiness, with an injection of His divinity.

This is what we see in today’s dramatic Gospel. Jesus miraculously culminates Peter’s fishing success. He doesn’t bring from Peter a clay vessel, purple goods, or the sort of tent St. Paul would have made with his trade. He culminates his success as a fisherman, with real, flesh-and-blood fish. He loves Peter the fisherman. He never has any intention to take Peter and turn him into someone completely different.

Still, that culmination doesn’t stop with Peter’s miraculous catch of fish, or fishing success in general. Rather, Jesus makes Peter a fisher of men–He takes what Peter is and exalts it beyond anything the lowly Galilean fisherman could ever have dreamed of.

Today’s saint of the day is St. Gregory the Great. Biographies of this saint hasten to tell us what St. Gregory was not. He was no St. Thomas Aquinas, no brilliant theologian. In fact, in the various areas where he excelled as an expert–monasticism, missionary work–St. Gregory added very little if anything new.

But what St. Gregory was, He was to the full: He was a leader. He gathered the Church with a strong voice into unity in its understanding of monasticism, missionary work, the Papacy, and many other things. Gregory as Gregory was Great.

And you: God has an image of you in your greatness. In the channeling of all your gifts and talents to the service of others and of His Church. He doesn’t want you to be “that other person” whom you admire because they have tendencies and talents that you don’t have. He wants to exalt you with all your individuality so far above your hopes and dreams as Peter’s role as fisher of men was exalted above his limited trade of netting tilapia on the Sea of Galilee.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to send His Holy Spirit to help you know yourself, not for growth in vanity, but for growth in gratitude. Thank Him not for any superiority you have, but for your individuality and for His gift of creating you with infinite love for that particular individuality that you are. And ask Him to show you the path to the exaltation that He wants for your special individuality, which is your own particular path of service to others.

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September 2, 2020August 17, 2020

Apricot Puree

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

When Jesus was transfigured in front of James, John, and Peter, there is a comic element in the apostles’ reaction. They are stupefied; we can picture them there with open mouths, drooling. Peter talks about pitching some tents and staying there forever. Ultimately, all three fall on their faces in fear (cf. Mt. 17).

Jesus gives the disciples a small window into His glory, and they can barely take it. No wonder this was a one-time event.

In today’s first reading, Paul talks about how he spoon-fed the early Christians because they couldn’t take solid food. The message of the Gospel had to be tailored to them as to infants, because their spirits were worldly and incapable of digesting the full impact of the revolution Christ worked in the world, with all that it means for personal transformation, or “transfiguration,” if you will.

Interestingly, Paul complains that in reaction to this early teaching, this early community cleaved to him and/or his companion Apollo, almost more even than to Christ. This can often be the reaction to evangelization. Focus centers disproportionately on the message-bearer. And this is understandable: When we witness someone truly transformed by grace, it blows us away. Yet, this is the reaction of infants.

The weakness we experience before the Gospel message, due to our worldliness, is part of the weakness and sickness of sin. When you think about it, sin is little more or less than the weakening and sickening of our nature. It is no accident that Jesus goes about healing the sick and casting out demons as He prepares the world for His message, as we see in today’s Gospel. Before we can start truly to assimilate the mind-boggling and category-shattering impact of the Gospel message, we need healing from sin through the sacraments, strengthening through the Eucharist, and good habits of avoiding sin formed through self-denial and ascetic discipline.

In the end, though, Paul’s message about having to start with pureed apricots before moving on to Beef Wellington is an exciting testament to how the Gospel will truly work a radical transformation in our lives. It doesn’t just transform us by making us “better people.” It transforms us by lifting us to a radical new level of being that we never thought possible, in profound union with the Blessed Trinity. So get well, work out your spiritual muscles, and buckle up.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Him to show you what in your life is still mediocre, tasteless, worldly, and to help you in your weakness understand His dreams for you, which infinitely surpass anything you could achieve by your spiritual efforts alone. Ask Him to reveal Himself to you as much as you can bear, and to take you through the process of healing, strengthening, and transformation that He longs for. Commit that you are with Him on this journey, no matter what the cost.

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September 1, 2020August 17, 2020

Donuts and Demons

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

There are few things more insipid than “Christianity Lite,” whereby our religion is reduced to weak coffee and glazed donuts in the community center, bingo night, and good feelings about neighbor.

Similarly, there are few things more repulsive than self-righteous, taciturn, sour Christianity that reduces all to a set of rules to follow in order to make the cut–it creates Christians who are at once self-satisfied and superior, and also bitter because deep down they realize that they have missed the happiness they were looking for in Christianity.

Conversely, what a gorgeous picture of Christianity St. Paul paints in the first reading today. He shows as an image of a Spirit plunging deep into the infinite bowels of God where no man can tread and touching and feeling the most impenetrable aspects of the nature of God. Then, approaching the human heart–by contrast so superficial, so distracted, so finite, so petty, that Spirit dives into it, filling it to overflowing with the divine nature. Thus that little human soul is exalted far above and beyond its own natural limitations, and comes to know a joy that it couldn’t have dreamed of. And, it is gifted with an unexpected faculty to assist powerfully in the transformation of other souls as well.

This work of the Holy Spirit is the “pearl of great price” Jesus speaks of in the Gospel (cf. Mt. 13:46). It is to this action that He refers when He says, “The Kingdom of God is within you” (Cf. Lk. 17:21).

Nor does a shift to this rich understanding of Christianity require more complicated and esoteric theology. On the contrary, if anything, it requires a simplification of the heart vis-a-vis “Donut Christianity” or Christianity reduced to a rule book.

Still, today’s gospel does remind us that there is a price to pay for this pearl of great price. When we contemplate Jesus casting out demons, we have trouble relating. We admire Him for His divine power, but find little relation to our own lives,

Yet, Jesus teaches us elsewhere in the Gospel that to the extent that a soul is not filled with the Holy Spirit, it is occupied by other spirits (cf. Mt. 12:43-45). Perhaps this is not demonic possession strictly speaking–but to the extent that we are attached to creatures, self, sin, fear, to that extent, real, hellish, living demonic spirits have a stranglehold on us. And extricating the barb that is injecting the venom of sin into us is a costly process indeed, which involves discipline and even some suffering. And militant consistency in daily prayer, where we insistently and recklessly abandon ourselves to God’s love and Providence, holding nothing back.

But it is so worth it–not just to avoid the ruin of ourselves, but to attain that pearl of great price. That pearl of God’s full possession of our hearts is so disproportionate to what we sacrifice, that it is almost unjust. God could have chosen simply to fill our nature with happiness in proportion to that nature’s own limitations. But the joy He gives us surpasses that natural happiness as far as His infinite nature is above our own.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask the Lord insistently not to hold back His demands from you, in the face of your weak freedom. Tell Him with all your heart that you give yourself wholly to Him, and beg Him to send His Spirit to push out your sin, fear, and attachments, so that He can take full possession of your heart and fill you with the joy that no tongue can describe.

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