Laser Focus

Laser Eye

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


“I will love them freely,” says God through the prophet Hosea in the first reading. His all-powerful, tender, effective, fruitful, refreshing love will be poured out on His people without measure.

Rarely do we find more enthusiastic imagery in the words Jesus, than those He uses when He describes this outpouring of divine love: “A good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing, will be poured into your lap.” (cf. Lk. 6:38)

Lent is a time for purification from attachments to created things, our own ideas, our own feelings, that hold our will, even at the expense of our faithfulness to God. It is a time for purification from attachments, so that we may access this divine outpouring.

But if it is a time for detachment, it is even more a time for increased attachment–attachment to God, as the humble and wise scribe in today’s gospel articulates:

He is One and there is no other than he.
And to love him with all your heart,
    with all your understanding, 
    with all your strength,
    and to love your neighbor as yourself

is worth more than all burnt offerings and sacrifices.

It would appear that this scribe had tasted God somewhere along the way, both because of his clear understanding of the primacy of loving God and neighbor, and because in speaking of the “worth” of the love of God, he seems to be speaking from personal experience.

And that is just it. Detachment alone does not lead us to God. If we do not experience God and attach ourselves to Him, we become like the heart Jesus compares to a house, saying that when it is all cleaned out, it merely becomes a more welcoming place for worse demons to come and reside (cf. Mt. 12:43-45).

Attachment to God, based on experience of God. Experience of God requires something so simple that it is almost silly: Dedication of time each day, say, a half hour, for dialogue with Him in prayer. If we open our hearts to Him with consistency, He will not fail to fill our hearts with love for Him–attachment to Him.

So it is that, in addition to fasting and self-denial, the Church urges us to increase our prayer during Lent.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to help you to understand the attraction of loving God, and to help you with His Spirit to attain an authentic attachment to God above all things. Tell Him that you cannot attain this on your own through edifying readings, attendance at church, or any other means. Ask Him to generously infuse this love into your heart.

Follow the Author on Twitter:

Hardness of Heart

Stone Heart

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


The hardening of the heart, as depicted in today’s readings, can be a mysterious thing. Yet, we have all experienced it.

We have all had moments when we know that a person, someone calmer than we are, is speaking the truth, but we are momentarily attached to an exaggerated view of reality that corresponds to the stirring up of our passions. We cling to that exaggerated view, even while knowing deep down it is just that–until our passions slowly dissipate, and we are able to acknowledge the more rational, balanced assessment.

This tendency starts to appear mysterious as we contemplate figures like the Pharisees in today’s gospel, stubbornly clinging to an irrational interpretation of Jesus’ actions. They want to see His miracles as coming from the devil, rather than accepting the obvious interpretation that these good works come from Him who is Good. It is mysterious, because this irrationality is not the fruit of a moment’s passion, but seems to follow the Pharisees throughout the narrative of Jesus’ public life, Passion, and death–and even through the event of the Resurrection, and thereafter.

Similarly irrational is the stubbornness of the people of Israel in the first reading, who persist in turning their back on God, despite all He has done for them in their history, and despite the fact that He is the obvious choice for their welfare.

And so, today’s psalm reaches forward in time to challenge us as well: “If today you hear His voice, harden not your hearts.”

As irrational and mysterious as are these behaviors that we observe in today’s readings, we can gain insight into them from our own experience. In our passionate moments, we cling to an irrational view, not just because of our emotions, but because we want that view to be right. We are attached to it, not with our understanding, but with our desire, with our will.

It is attachment to and stubborn desire for things that are not God that leads us to a warped view of reality.

Wisdom and perspective come, then, not from careful analysis, but from detachment from all that is not God. And in turn, this detachment comes from self-denial for the sake of God’s commands and of others–but especially, from increased attachment to God and love for Him, cultivated in daily prayer.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Beg Jesus to send His Spirit to give you the gifts of Wisdom, Understanding, and Counsel. But also, ask for Piety and Fear of the Lord–that is, those gifts that lead you to cling to God as your only good. Consider what your attachments may be–those things that you would give up for God only with difficulty. Ask Jesus to fill you with such a dose of His Spirit, that love for God crowds out all those worldly attachments.

Follow the Author on Twitter:

Dogs Licked His Sores

Dog Tongue

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


There are those who posit that Jesus favored the poor over the rich; there are even some who would claim that Jesus’ entire mission centered on rectifying social inequities.

The gospel from today is one of those that seems to come closest to substantiating those claims.

And indeed, Jesus came to bring “good news to the poor.” (cf. Lk. 4:18) Also, the entire Bible is full of admonitions from God to look after the poor, widows, orphans, etc.

But if we look closely at today’s gospel, and consider it in light of the first reading, we see that perhaps Lazarus was not blessed in the hereafter because he was poor on earth–but rather because he trusted in God, rather than human beings and their riches. This, in contrast to the rich man, whose entire happiness was founded on the shifting sands of goods manufactured by human hands. “Cursed is the man who trusts in human beings”; “Blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD.”

And indeed, we see that Lazarus’ fate on earth was never improved in the parable. Rather, it turns out that he was was blessed in his earthly poverty, because by means of it, and the detachment from worldly goods that it facilitated, a privileged place was reserved for him in Heaven.

Jesus did not come to rectify earthly inequities and create an earthly utopia. Indeed, He tells us, “the poor you will always have with you.” (Cf. Mt. 26:11) But those of us with sufficient earthly goods–and we are the minority on this planet; the average global yearly salary as of this writing is $18,000–we who have enough, have a grave obligation before God to provide for others who do not.

This is not the same as solving global inequities. It means that the fact that we legitimately own and control earthly goods, and government should not arbitrarily take them away from us, does not mean that God has destined those goods for our welfare alone. He has destined them for the good of others as well, through the generosity of our hearts.

It is by cultivating, by the grace of God, hearts full of generosity, that actively seek creative ways to look after those less fortunate, that we avoid the pitfall of worldly attachment that decided an unfortunate eternal destiny for the rich man in today’s gospel.

This bountiful generosity is not an option. It decides our eternal fate.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to cultivate within you a generous heart that actively seeks the welfare of others, and specifically seeks opportunities to make sacrifices for the material welfare of others.

Follow the Author on Twitter:

Let It Go

Fish Release

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


Some people love to contrast the Old Testament and the New Testament, caricaturing God in the former as a meany and in the latter as a sweet guy who just loves to hug.

In reality, both Testaments feature a Creator who is not to be messed with, whose laws hold firm and bear eternal consequences, and yet who is also mind-blowingly merciful. He not only gives us second chances, He comes up with ingenious schemes to take the hit for His own laws and open doors that we have closed for ourselves. But we must opt for those second chances. We still must conform to His way, the way of our deeper and better nature, the way He created us to be.

In the face of the mistaken tendency to pit Old Testament and New Testament against each other, Jesus’ teaching in the Gospel is nothing but the first reading repeated, but in a beautiful, easily understood story–that is, in warm, human terms. He teaches what we hear summed up earlier in the Lord’s Prayer (cf. Mt. 6:9ff): “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.” The simple but tough lesson: God will not forgive us our sins if we do not forgive our brothers and sisters from our heart.

Of course, this does not necessarily mean that the wound does not still cause us pain. The though of the offending person can still cause us revulsion, even physical sickness. But we do not hatch plans or desire their suffering and destruction. We leave their welfare in God’s hands and even pray that He will given them what they need, conversion if necessary, to be happy with Him one day.

The contrary attitude is one of willingly harbored resentment, by which we actively choose to desire suffering and harm for the person who has offended us, out of “justice” in return for what they have done for us.

But what is it that causes us to cling to such desires, and stubbornly refuse to let them go? Ultimately, it is attachment of our heart to created things. Sin and spiritual imperfection come from our heart attaching itself to created things, whether those things are people or possessions, or more intangible things such as our own reputation. Spiritual perfection comes from a profound relationship with God whereby He truly is all we cling to as essential.

The soul with created attachments is at risk of the sin of resentment, of not forgiving, if another person ventures to interfere with the object of its attachment.

We may think of this as another of Jesus’ tough, challenging teachings–and it is. But there is also something beautiful in this teaching that we may take for granted, that we may overlook or fail to fully appreciate: If we do let go of ill desires for others, and thus forgive them from the heart, we have the joy and freedom of knowing that God does the same for us, even though our sin has taken a baseball bat to the very order of the cosmos, to the very underpinnings of our own nature. Even though, more importantly, our sin has spat in the face of the very author of these. God’s mercy inspires awe. We do not deserve it. And yet, it is right there at the fingertips of the person willing to let go of attachment to others’ offenses.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Contemplate God’s mercy. Think of His mercy in the face of your terrible sins, but also in the face of humankind’s wholesale rejection of Him. Ask Him to show you how to be merciful, like a father showing his five-year-old how to ride a bicycle. Ask Him to help you to attach your heart and your will more and more only to Him.

Follow the Author on Twitter:

Tin Gods

Tin Idol

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


There is a reason rich people think of themselves as gods:

“Oh yes, you are wiser than Daniel,
there is no secret that is beyond you.
By your wisdom and your intelligence
you have made riches for yourself”

A person who has become wealthy in his/her own lifetime, the so-called “self-made man/woman,” has achieved something indeed. By means of their “wisdom” and their “intelligence,” self-made wealthy persons have successfully cajoled others–many, or a few–to part with the very means of existence itself to a highly disproportionate degree, and hand it over to them willingly. Perhaps they have added a little bit of value to a great many people’s lives. Perhaps they have invented something momentous. Perhaps there are shady dealings involved, but for the sake of argument, let’s say not. They have succeeded in what literally every other person on the planet is striving to accomplish, to a degree that they possess many multiples of the average person’s wealth. They are “wiser than Daniel.” They are smarter. They are shrewder. They are like gods.

Even those who inherit wealth can enjoy this illusion. They can carelessly use their wealth to command respect and service from everyone with whom they surround themselves. Their money allows them to command. They are like gods.

They may not be happy, but they possess something that is a seemingly acceptable–nay, covetable–substitute for happiness, and if it is threatened, they will cling to it till the end. And, as the first reading illustrates, it will be their utter and total destruction.

The economy of salvation and true happiness could not be more distantly removed from this paradigm. It is an economy where one gives not only “houses or brothers or sisters” to God, but where one gives oneself and all one is and has completely to the service of God and others. It is this willing and total gift that draws happiness into one’s bank account, not one’s street smarts and shrewdness.

So how does one change from the former into the latter? How does one stop clinging to the ersatz-happiness and take the leap of faith into total gift of self?

“For men this is impossible,
but for God all things are possible.”

God’s raw grace alone, directly infused into the rich man for his conversion, is the only power that can work this miracle. It alone can introduce a drop, a hint, even an effusion of what happiness can be into the reluctant, glutted, jaded soul of the rich. It is for this reason that prayer and sacrifice for others is the fulcrum of God for the conversion of sinners.

But we are foolish if we think that the rich woman to be converted is “she,” “her,” “that one over there.” Every single one of us has attachments, desires, covetousness that make us no different from the rich. If we are not rich in fact, we are so by desire. We long to use our superior knowledge, shrewdness, intelligence, talents to drive us to a status superior to others–to become like gods. We may wish to do so in order to have greater power to do good. Whatever the reason, it is an illusion.

Only complete commitment to the economy of salvation, whereby we leave our welfare and status in God’s hands and give of ourselves every day to God and to the service of others, can bring us the happiness that we think we are chasing when we chase riches. There is no other way.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Him and examine with Him what part of you still longs for the sense of security, power, and superiority that wealth brings. With Him, dig tenaciously to find those hidden parts of your heart that believe that good can only be achieved by the rich and the powerful. Then, renounce those lies and desires and give Him yourself forever; let the world control the world; lay your head on His heart, and know that there you find not only your peace and happiness, but also the power to bring others through your gift to their happiness as well. Turn your heart fully to Him and to the economy of salvation.

Follow the Author on Twitter: