No Man Greater

Alexander the Great

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


“Amen, I say to you, among those born of women there has been none greater than John the Baptist.” (Mt. 11:11)

This is the superlative fashion with which Jesus refers to John the Baptist. What would it mean to us to receive such a striking compliment from the Son of God?

And indeed, as today’s psalm tells us, John was “wonderfully made.” The first reading foreshadows the greatness to which Jesus alludes, and as we celebrate the birth of the Baptist, it shows us that this greatness is with John from the beginning:

The LORD called me from birth,
    from my mother’s womb he gave me my name.
He made of me a sharp-edged sword
    and concealed me in the shadow of his arm.
He made me a polished arrow,
    in his quiver he hid me.

It would seem that John was special from the start.

Are you likewise special from the start? The answer is a resounding “yes,” IF you fulfill your destiny. Your mission as a follower of Jesus is no less great than John’s, as Jesus Himself says in the same verse in Mt. 11: “yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.”

All that stands between us and the same destiny to greatness enjoyed by John the Baptist, a destiny his from eternity, is our unconditional and daily “yes” to God. When spoken to God, the word “yes” is like a roller coaster car that one enters in the dark, not knowing where it will take one.

So it was for John. That “yes” brought him to a grand prophetic mission, and after that to a death tragic and gruesome, yet glorious in the eyes of God.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Tell Jesus that you do not doubt the glory of your destiny, and that you want the destiny He wants for you with all your heart. Tell Him He has free rein, a blank check to take your life wherever He wishes.

Follow the Author on Twitter:

The Veil

Veil

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


Today’s psalm tells us, “The glory of the Lord will dwell in our land,” and, “Near indeed is his salvation to those who fear him.”

The utter fullness of God’s might and glory is near indeed, just a breath away from us. But, as St. Paul tells us in the first reading, it is veiled to most people–but not to those who choose God’s path, and thus live in the Spirit.

It is veiled to those destined to perish, Paul tells us; thus, the glory of the Lord is veiled to those who choose not to strive to fulfill God’s challenging demands. They live in continual spiritual darkness.

Conveniently, in today’s gospel Jesus gives an example of just how challenging those demands can be. God does not tolerate angry name-calling or ongoing resentment toward neighbor, for He cherishes charity and unity.

This is what living up to God’s challenges means: It means a daily intimate prayer life, and striving to cooperate with Him in an effort to displace the center of our objectives from ourselves to others. Quite a challenge; quite an undertaking.

But the reward is incalculable. Even in this life, the veil is partially removed, and we sense God’s immediate closeness, His guidance, His love, and a we receive a small foretaste of the joy that eternal life with Him will bring.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Tell Jesus that you choose Him with all your heart. Ask Him to come and transform the focus of your life from your own earthly needs to the needs of others. Tell Him how daunting this challenge is for you, and ask Him to take charge.

Follow the Author on Twitter:

No Picnic

Rainy Bridge

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


Every day on earth is a miracle, and we should take stock of this from time to time: My life, as a free and thinking being, is like a universe unto itself; and that universe combines with a squishy pile of matter, subject to all the harsh physical laws to which every rock on our planet is subject. And, that squishy pile of matter is useful for our driving spirit, to transport it in time and space and to manipulate the physical world surrounding it. It is a marvelous reality, one that would be completely unexpected to an external observer of the cold, inanimate broader universe in which human life is found.

But as marvelous as it is, human life is fraught with sufferings, miseries, and humiliations, as depicted in the first reading and the psalm. We pray to God to come to our aid in the midst of our sufferings and difficulties, hopeful that He will lift us up, hopeful that He loves us and is willing to use His power on our behalf.

The gospel of today presents a curious segue from a description of suffering to a request for glory. Jesus describes to his disciples in some detail the trials and sufferings to which He will be subjected, but from which He will emerge in glory. Seemingly rather callously, James and John request a place of privilege in Jesus’ glory, ignoring the part about scourging, mocking, and execution. We may scoff at these men for their lack of compassion with their Master.

But aren’t we the same at times? We want what we want. Like the author of the first reading, we want divine aid, we want to be saved from our miseries. Like James and John, we quest after tangible glory.

In the end, though, as marvelous as this beautiful life is that God has created for us, we cannot expect a reality different from that with which Jesus confronts James and John. Here on earth we are living in a “valley of tears,” in which we are called to drink of the same chalice from which Jesus is called to drink. Here on earth, our peace and glorious destiny are not fully consummated. We are called to accept the sufferings of our life together with Jesus, and offer them as an aid to Him in His great mission of saving human beings.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Tell Jesus that you understand His message to James and John, and that you too are willing to drink the chalice of which He drank. Ask Him to give you the strength to hope in eternity for the consummation of your desires for greatness and glory, and to accept fully your mission here on earth, with all its grave challenges.

Follow the Author on Twitter:

Scent of Glory

Incense Smoke

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


Following Jesus’ example in today’s gospel, do you ever pray to the Father, “Glorify me, Father?” Might seem selfish. Might seem strange. But Jesus shows us that it is neither.

Desiring glory for oneself is not a vice, but a virtue. That is, it is a virtue when we look for glory in the right place. Jesus’ request has a note of intimacy in it; His glory derives from the relationship of love between Him and His Father, not from individual achievement or conquest. Still, there is achievement involved. The achievement is that of saying “yes” to the will of the Father in all things, even though for Jesus–and for us–this involves a battle against some of our most fundamental instincts. And the glory is not self-aggrandizement, but rather it is a gratuitous, loving gift from the Father.

We catch a scent of this glory on St. Paul in the first reading (along with the musky, earthy smell of one who travels all over the known world in ancient times). Paul’s glory likewise is a gift from God–from the Holy Spirit. Paul stands tall in his confidence that he understands God’s will for him and is dead set on fulfilling it. Like Jesus in the Gospel, he is full of love and solicitude for those entrusted to him, and he fully, freely embraces the destiny God has placed before him. This gives him incomparable stature–glorious stature.

We may well ask God, as ardently as we wish, “Glorify me.” He will answer our prayer by leading us to a loving and complete surrender to His will, which–no matter what our temperament, our talents, or even our insecurities–will bring with it, by the gift of the Holy Spirit, a state of admirable and enviable glory and greatness.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to inspire in you a Napoleonic passion for glory, but for the glory that He sought–the glory that only God can bequeath. Ask Him to make of you nothing less than what His Father has designed you, and He has redeemed and exalted you, to be.

Follow the Author on Twitter:

Home Sweet Home

Home Sweet Home

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


“God mounts His throne to shouts of joy.” When we think about the Ascension, meditating on the second glorious mystery of the rosary perhaps, we may be captivated by the physical wonders of the scene: Jesus’ feet disengaging with the earth, and His body floating slowly skyward, until hidden by the cloud. Our whole focus may be captivated by the apostles standing and looking on, agape, drooling perhaps…

These are awe-inspiring contemplations, to be sure. But the readings of today–even the passage from the Gospel, which typically narrates things in the most matter-of-fact manner–today’s readings do not stop at what the apostles see.

Rather, they go to the heart of the matter, the most important aspect of what is happening: “God mounts His throne with shouts of joy.” “…the God of our Lord Jesus Christ…seating him at his right hand in the heavens, far above every principality, authority, power, and dominion, and every name that is named not only in this age but also in the one to come.”

After an incredibly grueling stint on earth to save us, Jesus arrives home. He arrives home, now dressed in flesh. He arrives home, to the glorious shouts of the angels’ joy. He has done it. The mission is complete. He is back, now a Man, in His eternal dominion.

Earlier in the Gospel, Jesus tells His disciples, “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you?”

Jesus is home–He has arrived home at what is now also our home. He is preparing a place for us, in His glory. Our sojourn on earth, in a way, is so simple, even though we complicate it terribly by focusing on earthly goals and measure our progress and success accordingly. Life on earth is simple: It is a clinging to Him, by dedication of time in our life to our relationship with Him, and giving Him our lives as acts of service to Him. Come what may, if we do these simple things, our lives are a success, and we will one day be home with Him.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to bring you home, by safe passage. You, and all your loved ones.

Follow the Author on Twitter:

The Cornerstone

Cornerstone

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


“The stone rejected by the builders has become the cornerstone.”

We hear this theme over and over during the Easter season. Consider it: This theme is not about salvation, directly. It is also not so much about Resurrection from the dead as such.

What it directly speaks to, over and over again in this season, is the absolutely pivotal place Jesus has in human history through His victory, and how that place was attained specifically through the rejection of the craftsmen of human history. For Jesus, rejection is the path to critical relevance.

It is not much of a leap to identify that this metaphor speaks not only of Christ, but of the Christian as well. “If the world has hates you, realize that it hated me first,” says Jesus to His disciples in Jn. 15:18. So too, then, while Christ is the one true Cornerstone, through the rejection of the world we take our place as critical foundational stones for the salvation of humanity.

Every saint has the glorious calling and role to bring many others to heaven who were not previously on the path there. Every saint becomes one of these foundational stones. When we consider this, a Christian life aimed solely at avoiding grave sin makes no sense. We must take advantage of the glorious opportunity of our calling, to become saints, true intimates of Jesus, redemptive partners with Him, for the salvation of many.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus brazenly for a share in His glory. Tell Him that you want the eternal glory that He offers, not the glory that the world provides. And when He asks you, as He did the Sons of Thunder, “Can you drink the cup that I am going to drink?”, answer like them: “I can.” (Cf.

Follow the Author on Twitter:

It Starts

Race Start

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


As usual, today’s readings and this moment in the liturgical year are multi-layered, like some sort of amazing millefoglie cake.

Today is the first day of ordinary time. Humdrum, one might think–time to get back to the routine grind. Upside? Maybe the predictability of it, and the thought that we can use the routine for growth and progress.

But our first reading and psalm come off as anything but ordinary.

The first reading speaks of the refulgence of Christ’s glory, of God speaking to us in the last days through His Son, of the Son’s stature as superior to the angels. This reading is positively oozing with glory.

And not surprisingly, the psalm punctuates the first reading: “Let all the angels worship Him.”

This all seems rather extraordinary, until we realize that status quo (“ordinary” if you will) for God is a state of glory. For us, the just-past Christmas season is about glory; the glorious bursting of God into the world. For God, Christmas was a descent, even a sort of self-abasement, for our sakes. Similarly, while the “ordinary” for us implies humdrum and earthly, for God it is nothing short of unending exaltation.

What is exciting for us about this, in our ordinary lives, as clearly comes through in the placement of this first reading at the beginning of Ordinary Time: Even in the midst of our “ordinary,” we can participate in God’s extraordinary “ordinary,” through union with Him–in anticipation of His “ordinary” becoming our “ordinary” as well.

As if this all were not enough, the gospel for today brings us to a completely different place, parallel in its richness: Jesus begins His “ordinary” ministry the day after we celebrate the Baptism of the Lord, which marks the beginning of that ministry. We have the opportunity of meditating on what it was like for Him to begin His labor in earnest, as we begin the labor of a new year.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus how He combined the arduous reality of His daily ministry with a continuous connection through prayer to the glory of His Father in Heaven. Ask Him how He would like you to combine these two realities in your life.

Follow the Author on Twitter:

The Gardener

Fig Tree

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


Today’s readings seem to depict a flow of the potential intended by glorious, idealistic love, terrible waste, and mercy that never stops hoping or lowers the original ideal.

St. Paul speaks about the lofty ideal to which God has called us, namely, the “full stature of Christ,” to “grow in every way into him who is the head, Christ.” Jesus Christ is God, in intimate union with the Father and the Trinity, and it is right into the heart of this dynamic that He wants to take us (cf. Jn. 17:21). This ideal is so exalted, that there is no way we can attain it without God Himself taking on the role of protagonist of our individual spiritual growth, and He does this, which is exciting.

In fact, He, Jesus, is the gardener from the parable in the Gospel, who cultivates our souls actively and lovingly.

Then comes the tragic part: The fig tree, representing our soul, bears no fruit, despite all the cultivation. Sins of pride and sensuality distract us and hinder Jesus’ work of cultivation. This parable is reminiscent of the parable of the owner of the vineyard, who keeps looking for fruit at harvest but finds none (cf. Mk. 12:1-12). It is truly tragic, because to bring us to the great ideal of glory and happiness He has designed for us, Jesus has fertilized the tree with His own blood.

But this isn’t the end of the story. The owner of the garden is inclined to uproot the pointless tree, but the gardener pleads for another year to keep working it. Jesus keeps mercifully knocking on the door, asking permission to come in and bring His work of cultivation to completion.

Still, in this dramatic dynamic, it is important to note that the story ends with our freedom. If we obstinately refuse to the gardener’s overtures, the outcome in the end, like that foretold for the fig tree, is destruction.

We can draw hope in our Lord’s persistence with us, though, from the history of Israel and the Church. Despite the many horrid sins of the leaders of the People of God throughout the ages, and of the people themselves, He continues cultivating.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Reflect on your sins–the ways you simply refuse to step up to the fullness of what Jesus is calling you too. Consider how intensely He loves you, how excited He is about your destiny, and how tragic it is to disappoint that destiny. Happily, now, in prayer, is your opportunity to hand Jesus the keys to the garden of your heart. Tell Him without any reservation that you only want the destiny He has prepared for you, and ask Him to ensure that this destiny is fulfilled.

Follow the Author on Twitter:

Every Sparrow

Sparrow

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


“Blessed are the People the Lord has chosen to be His own.” The psalm neatly sums up the readings from today.

In the first reading, St. Paul tells us that we were chosen, destined to exist for the praise of God’s glory.

Jesus warns us in the gospel not to fear those who can kill the body, but rather Him who, after killing, has the power to cast into Gehenna.

We should possess a respectful fear of God as the great Master of the Plan, he who foresaw the eternal destiny of each choice of free will and enforces the consequences of those choices.

But then, in accord with St. Paul’s message, Jesus reassures us that God has counted every hair on our heads, that he knows what happens to every sparrow, and we are worth more than many sparrows.

If we are leaning on God, and humbly seeking His will, He will act in His Providence. We have nothing to fear, zero. He will so craft the realities of our life in support of our choice for Him that we not only do not lose Him, but that every circumstance that befalls us–easy or difficult, intelligible or mysterious–reinforces our destiny to exist for the praise of His glory.

Blessed be God, who gives us not only all we need, but curates our lives with overflowing generosity, from this world into eternity!

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to take over your life and guide it, curate it, with the overwhelming hand of His Providence and benevolence. Ask Him to help you to trust in Him unconditionally, and to detach you from everything aside from His will, everything, the loss of which could cause you bitterness. Lean on Him with all your weight.

Follow the Author on Twitter:

Transfer of Power

Electrical Tower

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Follow the Author on Twitter: