Face like an Angel

Archangel

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


“I do not want to be a martyr,” you may very reasonably think.

As our world becomes increasing militant in its secularization, what was once unthinkable begins to emerge as a possibility on the horizon: martyrdom again rising in the Western world, the world that we call free.

When considering the martyrs, we may think of bloody tragedy; of frightened Christians thrown to the lions and ripped to shreds, or of St. Sebastian’s entire body pierced with arrows before he finally succumbed. We may think of the loss of life, and of all that we hold dear in this life. And all of this we may interpret as failure, disgrace, chaos, destruction.

In today’s first reading, we are presented with the scenes leading up to the first Christian martyrdom, and the picture drawn is very different from what we might imagine. St. Stephen is strong, filled with the Holy Spirit, confident, and victorious. Even his enemies see his face as like to that of an angel.

Sometimes we forget that, as cruel and chaotic as their perpetrators may be, martyrdoms don’t occur at random, or casually. Because the persons in question are God’s chosen ones, the events are hand-choreographed with the greatest tenderness and attention to detail by the Creator of the Universe Himself. The martyrs themselves sense it, and they are filled with joy, even at the hour of their death.

And so, if we have nothing to fear in martyrdom, what can be said of the other, smaller tragedies that befall us? If we belong wholly to God, will He not choreograph the more minor occurrences of our lives with similar tender care? And if He is with us, who can be against us? (cf. Rm. 8:31)

As such we must heed the words of Jesus in today’s gospel: “Do not work for food that perishes but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you.”

Along with the grace of their martyrdom itself, the martyrs received a profound consciousness of the value of earthly life vs. eternal life, and had their hearts set on the latter. Whether or not we become martyrs, they provide a relevant message for our earth-centered age.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to plant your heart firmly in heaven. Ask Him to teach you to spend your life and your love on offering every moment to Him, seconding His Cross, that more persons may arrive there.

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Ignorance

Question

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


As we contemplate the serene glory of the risen Christ depicted in today’s gospel, our hearts are filled with joy and praise; still, we cannot be without a certain wistfulness at the fact that much of the world turned its back on Jesus then, and continues to turn its back on Him now.

As the disciples describe in plain language in the first reading how God has glorified the same Jesus whom his hearers had crucified, he holds out a ray of hope to them: “Now I know, brothers, that you acted out of ignorance, just as your leaders did.” His words harken back to those of Jesus Himself on the Cross: “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.” (Lk. 23:34)

The disciples, lending precision to Jesus’ words, specify that the leaders of the people–Jesus’ bitter, envious enemies–themselves were ignorant of what they were doing.

Shall we interpret from Jesus’ words, and those of the disciples, that all sin is automatically forgiven, since we are all at least partially ignorant of the gravity of offending God?

The disciples were not telling the people that they need not repent or turn their hearts to Jesus; just giving them hope that, since their act did not involve perfect awareness, it was forgivable. This, for example, in contrast to the sin of Satan, which was definitive, fully conscious, and not subject to repentance.

On the Cross, Jesus made an appeal for the forgiveness of His enemies–and by extension, all of us. He begged His Father to allow for our repentance because, ironically, of the imperfection of our sin.

Jesus’ appeal to our ignorance is not an invitation to presumption of salvation, but an invitation to repentance. Let us not fail to jump through the window He has opened for us.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Tell Jesus that you do not see the mindlessness of your sins as an excuse; thank Him for using it as an opportunity to allow for your repentance, and tell Him joyfully that you are sorry with all your heart for your sins. Pray, as He did, for the repentance of sinners throughout the world.

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Boat on the Waves

Boat in a Storm

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


The little boat of our lives bounces and pitches on the waves of the world’s storms of rebellion against God. The storms include actual rebellion among men and women, disguised as self-reliant responsibility for the welfare of all people and the earth itself (along with license to arbitrate that welfare, and set our own moral rules); and the rebellion of nature itself, tainted by the impact of original sin.

Jesus draws near to us on these waves of rebellion, but we are still afraid.

And then, presto, before we know it, He has transported us to our destination. This life is over, and He has taken us into the brand new life that is eternity.

Will we look back at our time on the water, and suddenly realize how brief was our little sojourn in the boat? That perhaps in our fear, we missed an opportunity to give our crossing with all our hearts to Jesus for Him to leverage it for others, full of unconditional trust?

Perhaps we think that if we make this gift, every day, the storm will automatically abate. Or, that our lives will look like the first days of the Church as depicted in today’s first reading, and that our words will lead people to flock to Jesus in droves. We may expect our lives to look and feel dramatically different. If this does not occur, we may hesitate or falter.

But in reality, a life given to Jesus may appear at times to bear no fruit. Ultimately, He is using our gift as the opening of a door to walk in and operate in the hearts of people, people whom we might not even know.

At one point in the Gospel, Jesus compares a life lived for Him to setting one’s hand to the plow and not looking back (cf. Lk. 9:62). Elsewhere, in the parable of the sower, he talks about rich soil as that which “bears fruit through perseverance.” (cf. Lk. 8:15)

The giving of our life to Jesus brings great joy, but it may not make our lives easier, more pleasant, or–importantly–give us the constant sensation of fruitfulness and effectiveness. But if we persevere in trust, He will ultimately bring us, in a blink of an eye, to the safe shore of eternity–and there we will see the fruit which, in Him, our gift has borne.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Entrust the boat of your life, and the journey it is on, into the hands of Jesus Christ, full of trust that He will bring you without delay to safe shores.

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A Lot of Bread

Loaf of Bread

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


“‘And do you not remember, when I broke the five loaves for the five thousand, how many wicker baskets full of fragments you picked up?’ They answered him, ‘Twelve.’ ‘When I broke the seven loaves for the four thousand, how many full baskets of fragments did you pick up?’ They answered him, ‘Seven.’ He said to them, ‘Do you still not understand?’ (Mk. 8:18-20)

With these words, Jesus reprimanded the disciples, sometime after the events from today’s gospel. He was cautioning them about the “leaven of the Pharisees,” and they thought He was cross with them for forgetting to bring bread for an outing.

And truly, the events of today should have proven difficult to forget. Philip’s estimate of the cost of feeding the five thousand was two hundred days’ wages. There are about two hundred working days in a year. Philip is talking about a year’s salary.

For any of us who has had to pay for the wedding of one of our daughters, the cost of an average working person’s salary to feed a large crowd is not beyond the scope of imagination.

Jesus fed the multitude with a miraculous multiplication of bread. And yet, the disciples later thought that he was cross with them for forgetting a small meal’s worth. “Do you still not understand?”

In the first reading, the Pharisee Gamaliel, it seemed, had not forgotten. On its face, his logic does not seem foolproof. Whereas he posited that the works of mere mortals disappear quickly, a cursory look at history reminds us that this is not always the case. Consider the millions, for example, cruelly butchered in the totalitarian regimes of the twentieth century. True, these regimes are now gone, but not before perpetrating their travesties for many years.

Behind Gamaliel’s reasoning, we glimpse that he is remembering the signs of Jesus–and that he does in fact have an inkling that this Christian movement may be from God.

So why is it so hard for believers, the disciples and us too, to remember the powerful works of Jesus? To recall that the apparently random events in our lives are under the close care of Providence?

After performing miracles in the Gospel, Jesus often credits the faith of the requestor. The truth is, His providential care is only limited by our trust. If we do not abandon ourselves completely to His care, His miraculous Providence in our lives will be limited and modest. But if we truly abandon ourselves, He will weave the most beautiful story of tender and powerful care.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Abandon yourself totally into the powerful hands of Him who effortlessly performed a miracle to feed five thousand. Tell Him you trust Him, and ask Him to increase and protect your trust.

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Awakening

Morning

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


The Sanhedrin, the religious leaders of Israel in Jesus’ time, appear formidable and daunting in the Gospel. We know that the path of Jesus’ public life ultimately leads Him to Calvary, and the Pharisees are ever present, looming, as they draw nearer and nearer to their goal of putting Him to death.

This is daunting for good reason. It involves the death of God Himself, God made man.

Why is it, then, that that very same Sanhedrin seems so puny and silly when we read about it in the book of Acts? Why do they seem so harmless, when we consider that ultimately, the apostles whom they are threatening will in fact suffer the death of martyrs?

The truth is, once we see them in Acts, they have done their worst; they have crucified God in the bloodiest manner, and God has turned their worst into glorious victory through the Resurrection. The apostles are addressing them, filled with the Holy Spirit, against the backdrop of proven victory. Yes, leaders, you killed this Jesus, but through the death He suffered at your hands, and through His Resurrection, He has reopened the door to eternal life.

Do with us what you will; if God is with us, who can be against us (as St. Paul will later write–cf. Rm. 8:11)?

Our own life is the very same; it is no different from that of the apostles. The world has thrown everything it has against Christ and the saints; they have invariably turned it into victory for those souls willing to take His path. This is the backdrop of victory against which we live our lives.

The great work of our lives is simply to awaken: To awaken to the gift we have in our hands, to awaken each day more, and to shed each day more the beleaguering burden of slavery to a legacy of sin which no longer holds any right over us. If God is with us, who can be against us?

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: In today’s gospel, Jesus assures us that God “does not ration His gift of the Spirit.” Be bold in your request to Jesus. Ask Him for the gift of His Spirit in an unfair allotment, until you are as full of the Holy Spirit as the apostles just after Pentecost. Ask Him to send you His Holy Spirit to crowd out any lingering sense of your subordination to the tyranny of sin.

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Not Playing for the Crowd

Rock Concert

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


After Pentecost, God ardently desired for Jesus’ disciples to spread the word about Him and (as the angel put it in today’s first reading) about “this life” (that is, the Christian life). That is why He sent the angel to usher them out of the jail cell.

If we are truly filled with the Holy Spirit, we will likewise ardently long to share Jesus Christ and Christianity with others.

But, Jesus Himself provides a healthy reality check in the Gospel. Although He says the words looking back on His own coming among the Jewish people, we can imagine the same words stated by Him as glorious Judge at the end of time: “And this is the verdict, that the light came into the world, but people preferred darkness to light, because their works were evil.”

Those of us who know and love Jesus, who have decidedly opted for Him, sometimes find it hard to understand how anyone in their right mind could decline His invitation to complete fulfillment and the fullness of life in Him.

We should not expect a different reception from what Jesus Himself encountered, however, when we strive to share the Gospel. Most will prefer darkness to light, because their works are evil. Jesus never expected the majority to welcome Him with open arms. He came for those whom He had chosen, and who would choose Him, and for Him, this is worth it. It should be worth every sacrifice to us as well.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to help you understand the value of the complete, eternal fulfillment of a single soul. Ask Him to grant you patience with rejection, and renewed determination for evangelization.

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Treasure Here, Treasure There

Gold Coins

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


“If I tell you about earthly things and you do not believe, how will you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has gone up to heaven except the one who has come down from heaven, the Son of Man.” This is what Jesus tells Nicodemus, after Nicodemus does not understand His message about being born again of the Spirit.

Most people would call Jesus’ description to Nicodemus of being born again a “heavenly thing.” Compare what He is talking about, for example, to a conversation about cooking dinner, or taking out the trash.

But Jesus calls the discussion about being born of the Spirit an “earthly thing.”

All too often, even in the Christian life, all we think about are “earthly things.” We talk about making the world a better place by feeding the poor, acting with kindness, etc., all of which is good and which indeed is part of what Christianity demands.

But none of these are “heavenly things.”

In Mt. 19, Jesus tells the rich young man, “go, sell what you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven.” To have “heavenly things,” the rich young man must detach himself utterly from all that he has.

The apostle Barnabas in the first reading does just that. He sells his property, and gives away his money. From an “earthly” perspective, this is insane foolishness. But Barnabas has his eyes on Heaven.

Is our heart in Heaven, or is it on earth? Do we still harbor a secret desire for earthly happiness, or do we truly seek to place all our treasure in Heaven?

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Think about what you most dream about on earth, what you most desire. Give it to Jesus, and tell Him you that you want, not that thing, but only His will. Ask Him to build your treasure in Heaven, and to free you from anything that will keep Him from doing so.

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All In

Poker

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


The disciples in today’s first reading were born from above, born of the Spirit.

Jesus teaches this rebirth in today’s gospel, and Nicodemus does not understand it. He is open to Jesus and wants to learn from Him, but he cannot quite reach beyond his own categories and his own limited understanding, to Jesus’ true meaning.

It is understandable. The disciples themselves did not catch the drift of rebirth in the Spirit until it was gifted to them, nearly imposed upon them one might say, from on high at Pentecost, after Jesus’ Resurrection.

What, then, was the difference between the disciples, who received the Holy Spirit, and the honest-hearted Nicodemus, who (as far as we know) did not? While Nicodemus went back to what he knew, the context of the Sanhedrin and the Old Law, the disciples launched out and followed Jesus, despite their imperfections, confusion, and ongoing fear.

This “reckless” following of Jesus was what “won” for them the gift of the Holy Spirit, which raised them above all their fears and limitations, allowing them to fulfill the fullness of their destiny and boldly proclaim the Gospel.

As we contemplate the disciples, Nicodemus, and the reality of the transformation that Jesus brought with the Resurrection and Pentecost, on the one hand, we must not be too hard on ourselves. Like the disciples when Jesus called them and as they followed Him, we are riddled with blind spots, imperfections, and small-mindedness. He does not for that reason push us away, or become frustrated or impatient with us.

On the other hand, though, let’s take the path of the disciples, not that of Nicodemus. Let’s go all in with Him, follow Him with patience and without reserve, and beg Him for the Holy Spirit. He will not be slow to answer our request.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Tell Jesus that you are all His, without conditions or attachments. Ask Him to send you His Holy Spirit in abundance, to complete the good work He has begun in you.

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Before and After

Doctored Photo

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


We see something of an evolution from the moment of today’s gospel, when all the disciples were coming to grips with the notion of the risen Lord (and poor Thomas became an example of one who doubts until he sees), and the time of the first reading, when the early Christians were “recklessly” giving up their possessions for Him, even though many had never seen Him.

The difference? In the first instance, the impact of circumstances was reigning in the hearts of the disciples, and in the second instance, after Pentecost, the impact of the Holy Spirit was reigning in the hearts of the disciples.

For us, the disciples of today, it is common for a mix of circumstance and the promptings of the Holy Spirit to reign in our hearts. It is also possible, however, to be predominantly or completely governed by the Holy Spirit. All we need do is ask.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Jesus tells us, “What father among you would hand his son a snake when he asks for a fish? … 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?” (cf. Lk. 11:11-13) Dare to ask Jesus for the gift of the Holy Spirit to rule fully over your life, with complete trust. And to this prayer, with absolute certainty His answer will be “yes.”

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The Shell

Shell

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


The Bible, both Old Testament and New Testament, is interlaced through and through with the theme of hardness of heart.

Maybe when you hear that phrase, the word “Meribah” enters your mind. For indeed, perhaps the most famous example of God’s rebuke to His chosen people for their hardness of heart is the occasion when Israel complained against God as a place called Massah and Meribah because they were thirsty. (cf. Ex. 17:7) Their focus on their physical discomfort, instead of leading them to ask God humbly for what they needed, led them to complain bitterly against God as if He were not providing for them adequately.

Today’s readings are full of hardness of heart. In the first reading, with the same attitude they showed throughout the Gospels, the religious leaders of Israel saw a miraculous healing as a threat rather than a gift and a sign. They ordered the disciples to stop talking in public about the name by which they had performed the miracle, that is, the name of Jesus.

We see the phrase “hardness of heart” in today’s gospel, when Jesus rebukes His disciples for not believing the word of those who had encountered Him after the Resurrection.

Hardness of heart is very prevalent in Scripture, but it is not a concept that is in fashion in Christian circles today. Hardness of heart is the decision not to follow the promptings of faith, whether promptings to believe and trust, or promptings to follow the dictates of conscience.

It is very prevalent today to speak of woundedness of heart, not hardness of heart, as what keeps people from trusting and accepting the Gospel.

In the end, however, they are similar concepts. “Hardness” is the shell that forms on the heart to protect its vulnerability, to protect it in its wounded state.

We all have wounded hearts, some more than others. Will you harden your heart and protect its vulnerability in its woundedness, like the disciples with their woundedness after the Resurrection, or will you expose your wounds full of trust to the glorious and all-powerful risen Lord, who loves you more than you will ever know?

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Think about the areas where you feel most vulnerable, the fears and wounds that would be most likely to lead you to a lack of trust and commitment to Christ. Offer those specific things to Him. With wanton generosity, tell Him that these are His; that He is free to allow you to suffer, or not; that you trust Him unconditionally.

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