The Meaning of Life

Thinker

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


St. John’s writing style, as exemplified in today’s first reading, displays an enchanting mix of great simplicity and poetic depth.

Take, for example, the reference to the water and the blood. Jesus has come through the water and the blood, and these bear witness to Him. This same John himself bore witness, in His gospel, to the water and the blood flowing from Jesus’ side, when it was opened with a lance after He died. In his gospel, John gave great importance to this, signaling it as the outpouring of His salvation to humankind.

But reflecting on today’s first reading, we may think that John is being a bit presumptuous when He points to God Himself as testifier on behalf of Jesus as His Son. When did John hear with His own ears God’s testimony? Sounds like he’s making an interpretative jump here…

But let us not forget. John did hear God the Father’s testimony, directly, audibly. He was one of the three disciples present at the Transfiguration, when a cloud overshadowed them and he heard a voice from the cloud say, “This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.” (Mk. 9:7)

He may or may not have been present at Jesus’ baptism, listening to John the Baptist’s preaching, when a voice came from the heavens and said, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.” It is speculated that he was, because he is thought likely to be the second, unnamed disciple of the Baptist mentioned in his own gospel who follows Jesus immediately afterward (cf. Jn. 1:35ff). Either way, he certainly knew of the event.

It is marvelous to think that this author of the first letter of John, written in such an unassuming yet profound style, actually heard the voice of God the Father testifying to His Son.

John tells us that he who possesses the Son possesses life. Here, in a way, the divide between earthly and eternal life blurs, just a little. Life for us is possession of the Son, here, as well as there. While we suffer here, and we will not there, this distinction starts to take second place as we begin, even here, to experience the joy of life in the Son.

The teachings of the Catholic Church about the possibility of salvation for those who do not know the Church, or indeed do not know Christ at all, seem to soften John’s statement. A recent embodiment of this teaching, from the Vatican II document Lumen Gentium: “Since salvation is offered to all, it must be made concretely available to all. But it is clear that today, as in the past, many people do not have an opportunity to come to know or accept the gospel revelation or to enter the Church. . . . For such people, salvation in Christ is accessible by virtue of a grace which, while having a mysterious relationship to the Church, does not make them formally part of the Church, but enlightens them in a way which is accommodated to their spiritual and material situation. This grace comes from Christ; it is the result of his sacrifice and is communicated by the Holy Spirit. It enables each person to attain salvation through his or her free cooperation.” (LG no. 16)

But this teaching, while it should cause rejoicing at God’s glorious mercy and desire for the salvation of every human, does not weaken John’s statement at all. There is, yes, the possibility for God, in His mercy, applying the infinite grace won by His Son on the cross, to grant the life of which John speaks, which is possession of the Son, at death to those who have lived a life striving unequivocally to understand the truth about God and to live by it, but have not known Christ.

But let us not be presumptuous of this mercy. The saints unanimously teach that, even among Christians, who are pampered by God with all the grace available through the sacraments and reflection on the Gospel to perfect their choice for Jesus, there are many who do not attain salvation due to the mediocrity of their choice for God. We must be deeply concerned for those in our secular world who, aware of the Gospel, reject a life in Christ casually and out of hand due to their unwillingness to conform their hearts and lives to a demanding ideal. And as for those who have never heard of Christ: If so many Christians, with the aid of so much grace, fail to hit the mark, how are those in practice without these aids and without clear doctrine to make the choice for the divine ideal? We must not presume on some extraordinary grace for these persons that exceeds the ordinary grace provided by the sacraments, Christian doctrine, and Scripture.

So, we must preach the Gospel.

All of this is very dramatic. But let us also remember, to anyone who approaches Jesus, even tentatively, He rushes with His divine aid to firm up their hearts, their resolve, their intent. Aside from the dialogue with the repentant thief on the cross, perhaps the most moving example of this is found right in today’s Gospel passage, in the exchange with the leper: “‘Lord, if you wish, you can make me clean.’ Jesus stretched out his hand, touched him, and said, ‘I do will it.  Be made clean.'”

If He wills it, Jesus can purify our hearts. And He does will it.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: We cannot escape from a dramatic but beautiful reality, namely, that Jesus calls us to a radical transformation through the adoption of a new mode of life, that can only be found in Him, in the Son–but that this transformation leads to unimaginable happiness. As St. John points out in his first letter, God the Father Himself bears succinct but unambiguous testimony to this. Let us approach Jesus today like the leper, and ask Him to cleanse our hearts, to purify them so that He can fully infuse them with His life. And let us pray with all the passion of our hearts for those who do not know Him.

Follow the Author on Twitter:

Status: Flux

Flux

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


It feels like we live in a time characterized by cycles and repeats: One of periodic conflicts and catastrophes, interspersed with beautiful life experiences. An ebb and flow that goes on through the ages.

In reality, we live right in the heart of a time of radical transition and transformation, depicted by today’s first reading.

That which is described in the first reading has already started, and is not yet complete. The great Messiah has come, but the wolf is not yet the guest of the lamb. Jesus came to our world, justice was the band around His waist, and He won the definitive transformation of the universe where all returns to harmony–but we are in the interim period, when the weeds and wheat must “grow together until harvest” (cf. Mt. 13:30). It feels long to us. It does not, to God.

As today’s gospel tells us, blessed were the apostles to see what they saw…and blessed are we to have access to one hundred percent of the benefits won by Jesus through His suffering, death, and Resurrection–right at our fingertips.

Although the calf does not yet browse with the young lion, we can enjoy the first fruits of this transformation Christ brings within ourselves. The more time we spend with Him in prayer and in regular reception of the sacraments, the more He aligns all our faculties (will, intellect, emotions, etc.) to the fullness of the glorious transformation He has won for us through His redemptive act, and which finds its definitive fulfillment in Heaven.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: In this Advent time, imagine yourself at the time of the prophets awaiting the Messiah, in a dark, broken world that knows little specific about how God will come to save. Imagine being transported from there to our present time, with the grace of Christ available not only to the original chosen people, but to the gentiles as well, in overwhelming abundance. Speak with Jesus about how He wants you to take advantage of the means at your disposal, and ask Him to help you not to be distracted by the noise of a world that wants to pull you away from those means.

Follow the Author on Twitter:

Hospice Cure

Hospice

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


The drama in the first reading has played out over and over and over again starting in the Old Testament and continuing right up to our day, with the Passion and Resurrection of Jesus Christ constituting the climax, and the key to understanding its meaning.

Note the symbolic names “Sodom” and “Egypt,” “where indeed their Lord was crucified.” These represent not specific places, but the world as such. The Christian is called to be a prophet that shakes the hearts of people living in the world, who by and large are asleep to eternal realities. The world as a whole generally rejects this message throughout the ages, but some accept it and find their salvation.

Given the period of Christendom–when secular and Church leadership coincided for a time–we can think that sometimes, the world is friendly to Christianity. But if we take a closer look at Christendom, we see that worldly attitudes rejecting the heart of the radical message of Jesus reigned in the world even when Europe was nominally Christian.

Today, the increase in comfort and worldly security brought to many by technology and prosperity serves as as sort of hospice-like pain-reliever for souls on the path to eternal death. Likewise, some Church leaders are asleep to the eternal drama depicted in the first reading, complacent in the midst of the flattery of their flocks. In such a situation, how much less well received is the disturbing message of true prophets.

As Christians, we do not have the luxury to wait for our leaders to act as prophets, and complaining openly about their shortcomings is counterproductive. Like the prophets in the first reading, we must offer ourselves as living sacrifices for the conversion of sinners–giving Christ willingly and joyfully every suffering that comes our way, believing wholeheartedly in the effectiveness of our gift through Him. And, we must listen to the Holy Spirit and follow His call when He asks us to be vocal signs of contradiction in our world.

To this end, we have the aid of the saints. In the gospel, Jesus reminds us that God speaks of all His followers in the present tense: The saints are very much alive and active. Only a thin veil separates us. Let us call out to them, our teammates in advancing the cause of Christ’s redemption, confident of the effectiveness of their aid.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Consider today’s world from the perspective of its sleepiness relative to the drama of eternity. Think of Jesus’ words relative to today’s world: “I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing!” (Lk. 12:49) Ask Jesus what His vision is for waking up the world, for setting it ablaze, and ask Him what part He would like you to play.

Follow the Author on Twitter:

Ready

Starting Line

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


There are few themes more prevalent in Scripture than life after death in eternity. And today’s readings are all about that.

St. Paul assures us that those who “fall asleep” in Christ will be brought into the presence of God.

The Church has always understood today’s Gospel passage about the ten virgins to represent mindfulness of eternity: That we need to be prepared for God to call us in death to eternal life at any moment.

This gospel warns us not to be presumptuous–not to assume mindlessly that we have a lock on Heaven, turning our thoughts only to worldly concerns. If we are brutally honest, Jesus’ unmistakable message in this passage is that if preparation for eternal life is not our focal concern, there is every chance in the world that we will not make it into Heaven, just as the careless virgins did not make it into the wedding feast.

If this message feels a bit dire, the first reading makes the goal feel more appealing, and more reachable. In the book of Wisdom, the personification of Wisdom is often understood to be the Holy Spirit. Wisdom, this reading tells us, is not elusive–not hiding from us, not some sort of puzzle to be figured out. Rather, Wisdom makes her rounds pursuing us. Wisdom is always hunting for someone who is on the watch for her, and hastens to make herself available.

Wise is the adjective applied to the virgins in the gospel who are ready for the bridegroom’s return. If we put the first reading and the gospel together, we must bear in mind on the one hand that those who unwisely focus only on worldly matters, neglecting their prayer life, sacramental life, and life of charity toward others which equate to preparation for eternity, will not reach Heaven. On the other hand, however, those who are seeking this preparation get a big boost. The Holy Spirit hastens to their aid and infuses them with strength and wisdom; they do not walk the road of preparation alone. His faithful presence and aid is our hope of success.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Praise Jesus full of gratitude for the gift of the Holy Spirit, who gives a guarantee of strength and wisdom to those who actively seek God; thank Jesus for being so trustworthy, and for not leaving us alone in our confusion and weakness as we strive to put our relationship with God and charity at the top of our priority list in preparation for eternity.

Follow the Author on Twitter:

On Board for Launch

Space Shuttle

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


There is a rocket-like thrust in all of Scripture. Scripture is not a philosophy book about the nature of what is. It is a guide for a participation in a massive launch. A launch that takes us from time into eternity.

There is arguably no more prevalent theme in Jesus’ preaching than our eternal destiny: What favors it, and what puts it at risk. Today’s gospel follows this theme, essentially warning us not to be like servants who fall asleep on the job–getting cozy and comfy in our reality in time. But rather, always ready for eternity–always focusing what we do, think, love, and in fact, what we are, on that horizon. And he emphasizes something bracing and beautiful about the reality of entering eternity: It comes in a single, abrupt moment, like the Master knocking on the door upon His return.

This eternal horizon is the backdrop of St. Paul’s, well, congratulations, if you will, of the Ephesians–gentiles–for entering into the covenant of God’s people Thanks to the unifying, expansive saving act of Christ, the gentiles are no longer outsiders. They’re part of God’s “in” crowd.

Especially in today’s polarized political context, we may be accustomed to thinking about people in terms of “us” and “them,” not so differently from the way Israelites may have in the Old Testament. Against the horizon of eternity, it is not the will of the great Unifier, Jesus Christ, that any of the “them” should be lost.

If we are concerned for our own eternal destiny–and we should be, because it depends on the choices of our freedom–should we not be concerned for that of the “them”? How much time/energy do we spend praying and sacrificing for the eternal salvation of persons, perhaps especially those we may consider inimical to God’s saving message?

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Use your imagination and/or capacity for analysis to conjure a clear image of what you consider the “them” in your life. Place them in your heart on a paten, and offer them to Jesus Christ on the cross, asking Him, by His all-powerful sacrifice, to inject miraculous grace into their hearts so that they may discover and embrace Him.

Follow the Author on Twitter:

Clay in the Hands of the Potter

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.

Follow the Author on Twitter:

“Memento Mori” (“Remember Death”)

Skull on Desk

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


Today’s first reading starts with the word “Rejoice,” but the rest of the reading is more sobering than it is exultant.

The reading encourages the young person to enjoy the benefit of youth and put off unpleasantries while still able.

But also to remember God, for youth is fleeting…and then the reading goes on to use beautiful poetic metaphors for the aging and death that await all of us.

Aging: “Guardians of the house [one’s limbs] tremble”; “Grinders [teeth] are silent because they are few”; “they who look through the windows [eyes] grow blind”; “the sound of the mill is low [hearing loss]”; etc.

Death: “the silver cord is snapped, the golden bowl is broken”; “the broken pulley falls into the well”; “dust returns to the earth as it once was,” “life breath returns to God who gave it.”

As so often is the case, the Psalm response puts the point of punctuation on this message: “You turn man back to dust, saying, ‘Return, O children of men.’ For a thousand years in your sight are as yesterday, now that it is past, or as a watch of the night.”

The great spiritual masters of the Church are unanimous in advising us actively to meditate on our deaths–to imagine what the circumstance might be, to close our eyes and place ourselves there. This meditation, for example, forms an explicit part of St. Ignatius’s Spiritual Exercises. And the practice is depicted in much medieval and Renaissance art, wherein monks as they write are shown with a skull upon their desk, which is aimed at reminding them of their eventual death.

This is not some sort of macabre practice to spook us or make us sad. Rather, when we meditate on our deaths, if we do so vividly and aided by God’s grace, we may take on some of the mindset which, as our impending encounter with eternity increases our lucidity, could be useful for informing our priorities for today. Mindfulness of the rapidly passing nature of our lives will inform the wisdom with which we live each day.

Jesus had His own death always before His eyes, and today He speaks of it. He was well aware of the story arc of His life, and its conclusion. While we do not know the exact circumstances of our deaths, we can orient our lives as Jesus did toward those things that will matter for eternity, and wisely order our days according to the fleeting reality of our lives.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Unlike the disciples in today’s Gospel passage, let’s not be so afraid of the topic of death that we hesitate to ask Jesus questions about it. Close your eyes, and imagine your last moments, with as much vivid detail as your imagination can muster. Then, ask Jesus questions. How happy is He with the life you have lived, as you prepare for your definitive encounter with Him? How would He ask you to prioritize differently?

Follow the Author on Twitter:

Time and the Timeless

Pocket Watch

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


God “has put the timeless into their hearts,” the first reading tells us, even though we never fully discover the full scope of this work that He has done.

What is the timeless? Well, if we are to believe St. Paul, there are three things that last: Faith, Hope, and Charity (cf. 1 Cor. 13:13). Of course, faith and hope remain in eternity only with respect to their objects–God, and the possession of God–and thus, it may be said, far from disappearing, faith and hope are fulfilled forever in eternity.

So, these are the timeless, these are the lasting, these are the unchanging. By contrast, the first reading cycles through a list of contrasting pairs. It states that as regards everything else, that which is passing and not timeless, there is an appropriate time for each extreme: birth/death, sowing/reaping, tearing down/building, etc.

In the end, the three things that last drive us in different directions in this passing world, depending on circumstance–in particular supernatural Charity, that is, the virtue that moves us to give ourselves to God and to the welfare of neighbor. Take child-raising, for example. Sometimes, the loving thing is to embrace and show affection. Other times, out of love for our children and motivated by their long-term welfare, we adopt a stern stance and apply balanced punishment.

We call the virtue by which we judge the right (and loving) course of action “prudence.”

But far beyond human prudence, that is, common sense and sound judgement, there is the infinite ocean for us to explore of our relationship with God, whereby the Holy Spirit–with His infinite creativity and pure, rich love for humanity–can instruct us in paths to follow on our adventure through time that our human prudence would never suggest to us. There is no limit to the depths of love that we can plumb in the heart of God.

Consider, for example, the Holy Spirit’s creative solution to the impossible blind alley of sin that the human race had chosen: Create a maiden who, retroactively preserved from any touch of sin by her Son’s posterior sacrifice, gives her pure “yes” in full freedom to the re-entry of God into the world–this time, in the flesh, to take on sin and take it to its defeat and demise, and then rise victorious.

You don’t find more creative–or effective–solutions than that.

While striving to practice good judgement, if our prayer life is constant and committed and we are in a state of grace, we can grow in the degree to which that good judgement is more about listening to and adopting the counsel of this Sweet Guest of the Soul, rather than arriving at reasonable decisions through dry analysis. So it is that the saints display a wisdom that exceeds anything reachable by human effort alone.

So, God is about the timeless. He places the timeless in our hearts, and He helps us in our time through the Holy Spirit.

But today’s Gospel passage reminds us that God is no longer only about the timeless. He has subjected His own eternal self, incarnate in flesh, to the vicissitudes of time, and time’s very different demands of us at different moments. For Christ, too, there was a time to embrace, and a time to correct; a time to be born, and a time to die…and, a time to rise from the dead. Today He forewarns the disciples about His time to die, and they don’t like it. They want the timeless God, unconstrained by the shackles of our temporal limitations. And yet, it is by taking on our time, with all its constraints and vicissitudes, that God redeemed within us our ability to regain access to the timeless, and soar to its endless heights.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Explain to Jesus how hard it is sometimes to make the right decisions each day and to judge, in difficult circumstances, the right path forward within the concrete, complex, imperfect realities of time. Ask Him to send you the Holy Spirit in a “double portion” (cf. 2 Kgs. 2:9) to guide you to beautiful, creative solutions as you traverse time’s paths.

Follow the Author on Twitter:

The Here and the Hereafter

Earth

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


The Church exhibits great wisdom in teaching us about earthly realities. Her social doctrine, for example, goes into some detail with regard to the balance between the right to private property and the priority of the common good. She teaches us to be good and careful stewards of the great resources that have been made available to us through creation. She urges all of us, perhaps especially us lay people, to strive with all our might to build a just society, one where the principles of justice and charity reign in hearts and in the public square.

But in the end, the object of none of it, really, is earthly reality. The Church holds out no hope for an earthly utopia–that is, a society here on earth where we finally feel truly fulfilled and happy, and justice reigns without exception. Christians who focus on building a just society solely for its own sake completely miss the point. As St. Paul tells us today, “If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are the most pitiable people of all.”

And the Psalm tells us, “Lord, when your glory appears, my joy will be full.” Only when we see Him in His eternal glory will our happiness truly be culminated.

Interestingly, in contrast to all this, we see a very earthy narrative in the Gospel, which tells us about how Jesus is traveling about, who is with Him, and how those with him are looking after His needs with their resources.

If we are not careful, we can spend our time, including our time in prayer, questing after earthly happiness as if this were the main objective. We can puzzle obsessively over why we sometimes feel depressed, how to avoid discomfort, and how to have a happier outlook on life.

There is nothing wrong with examining and amending our outlook, but we also need to get comfortable with the fact that we exist in a “valley of tears,” as earth is described in the Salve Regina, perhaps the most popular Marian hymn ever written.

Our definitive happiness does not and cannot lie here. Ironically, the more we bear this in mind, the happier we can be in this life, because our expectations are not set on what is not achievable, and thus the woes of our earthly exile are not compounded by the stress and frustration of false hopes.

There are two things that matter for our life on earth, because of their bearing on eternal life: What we become in holiness and union with God, and our service to others, especially (but not only) with respect to their spiritual welfare–even though these will not automatically make us feel continuously content here on earth. The rest is passing. Still, even the most mundane, passing things are beautiful when they form part of the landscape of a life focused on what matters.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Dare to ask Jesus how He views your life, your day, your reality, including the most mundane and earthy aspects. Does He despise the passing things in your life? If not, how do they figure into His eternal plan for you? Ask Him to enlighten you to strive for good things in this world, especially for others, but only in the manner that corresponds to their value relative to eternity.

Follow the Author on Twitter:

Love and How to Get It

Heart of Candles

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


Jesus and St. Paul both teach us something today about the relative importance even of the things that appear most important in the world, compared to the things that will last and merit all our focus.

If I had the powers of prophecy, I might very well be tempted to think of myself as superior. More so still if I had special gifts of knowledge like, say, St. Thomas Aquinas–or even a great natural scientist.

St. Paul sees the importance of such things as very relative, and possibly of no value at all. They are passing away. They won’t be notable differentiators in Heaven, even if they seem to be today.

Jesus talks about how the tone and content of St. John the Baptist’s preaching and teaching was different from His, due to the particular role of each. Such things are destined to change with time and place. They are not constants.

So, if we are looking for the constant, the thing to focus on, what is it? What is the constant between the Baptist’s teaching and Jesus’? What is the thing that doesn’t change, and that is of absolute importance because it continues into eternity?

St. Paul doesn’t keep us guessing. The constant is love. Love for God: Perfect union with Him. Love for neighbor: Driving passion for the happiness of each person around us in line with our particular vocation.

So how do we love? If (per St. Paul) even a martyr’s sacrifice is of no value if it is made out of pride rather than love, how do we attain love, and leave aside selfishness?

St. Paul describes how love manifests itself, but if we examine his words carefully, he does not give “instructions” for attaining love per se.

Love, or the theological virtue of Charity, is a gift. It is a virtue that is infused into us by God. As such, we cannot obtain it through “practice.” That is maddening! How do we get this gift???

The fact is, there IS something that we can do to grow so full of love that we reach the full potential of the exalted beings that God has created and redeemed us to be.

Love is obtained like a suntan. Sure, no “practice” is useful to get a tan. A suntan is not earthly, It comes from beyond the earth. But it would be foolish to think we can do nothing to get a tan. Lay out in the sun, for goodness sake!

Similarly, to attain love as surely as a suntan, spend time with Love, spend time with God and the sacraments. Exposure to God by these means is a sure way to attain the inestimable virtue of divine love. And if we have that, everything else falls into place.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask His help to make your thirst for Him more constant and consistent so that you dedicate specific time to prayer and the sacraments each day. Ask Him to help your distracted heart focus less and less on the things that are passing, and more and more on Him and neighbor. Ask him for the give of divine love.

Follow the Author on Twitter: