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.

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Saints: Oddballs…or Not

Saint Peter

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


On this feast of All Saints, there are two common themes that jump out from the readings: 1) The joy of those who choose God and heaven–the saints–is to see the face of God; and 2) Those who choose God and heaven–the saints–really stand out from others in the world as exceptions; they’re really different.

The second point in a way relates to the first. It is already very different to derive happiness primarily from–well–looking at someone. Yet this is what we see in the first reading and the psalm. “Lord, this is the people that longs to see your face,” says the psalm. And in the first reading, we see a horde of white-robed folks standing, looking at God, and saying, “Amen.  Blessing and glory, wisdom and thanksgiving, honor, power, and might be to our God forever and ever.  Amen.”

Most people on the planet seem, at least on the practical level if not on the theoretical, to define happiness as self-enrichment, whether financial or otherwise–development of talents and potential, development of influence, more kids, more exposure to travel, etc.

By contrast, most people wouldn’t see happiness defined as standing and praising someone.

Perhaps the two definitions aren’t as far apart as they seem, though. If we take a closer look at the self-enrichment definition of happiness, it’s all about new experiences, and the ability to have them: Achievements, travel, more luxury, parenthood, etc. The unique attribute of the experience of God is that, unlike anything else, it is infinitely and constantly new, surprising, and wonderful. Whereas praising something that is old hat would be boring, the most spectacular new experiences in our lives evoke spontaneous expressions of awe. For example, seeing Niagara Falls for the first time. This is a dim reflection of what it is like to behold the face of God for eternity.

So much so, that Catholic doctrine defines heaven as the “beatific vision” (beatific = blessed, or happy).

Further on the second point, how the saints are different: In the gospel, Jesus contrasts the ways of the saints sharply with the ways of the world. Meekness, poverty, hunger/thirst, persecution. But the drastic contrast does not lie in any lack of desire for happiness on the part of the saints. Rather, the saints make a decision not to center their aspirations for happiness on experiences that become boring very, very quickly, as is the case with all self-enriching experiences on this earth. Rather, they choose a path that corresponds to enjoying forever the one experience that never becomes tiresome.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Reflect on your life and what drives you. Can you truly say that your heart is centered on enhancing the one experience that lasts and brings happiness, which is your relationship with God? Does your life mirror the beatitudes from today’s gospel? Or do you focus on going from novel experience to novel experience, like so many others in the world? How did Jesus live in this regard? Talk to Him about your life and how He may want you to adjust your priorities. Talk to Him about whether or not your relationship with Him really is the pearl of great price, worth sacrificing all other “riches” to obtain.

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The Wedding Banquet

Wedding

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


The readings today are all about God’s Providence. We see images of the eternal celebration that God has prepared for us, which in the first reading and the gospel is compared to a great feast. It is a feast of the best food and wine, and for this celebration God will wipe the tears off every face and destroy the veil, the web, the pall of misery that hangs over all the earth.

But then in the Gospel passage, we hear Jesus Christ repeating a theme of His–warning us in no uncertain terms that some people are not going to make it to the feast. There appear to be two reasons: Choice to ignore the invitation, and unsuitability.

In the parable Jesus uses to describe this, all the initial invitees choose to ignore the invitation. Think how you would feel if you were to plan a wedding celebration and NONE of those you invited were to come, despite multiple invitations.

Then, anyone and everyone from off the street is invited, and many come, but one arrives not dressed in wedding attire, and he is thrown out.

There are different ways we could interpret Jesus’ parable. Maybe those initially invited are the people of Israel of His day, who ultimately reject Him. Maybe, rather, the initial invitees are all of humanity upon creation; the invitation is rejected on behalf of all of us by Adam and Eve.

However one sees the various groups, however, it is clear that all of us, “bad and good” as the gospel says, wind up receiving an invitation to the banquet of Heaven, once Jesus has opened the invitation to us through His death and Resurrection. There are two reasons why we don’t ever see the inside of the banquet hall. One: We don’t choose to go. We put other priorities ahead of God, His will, and our relationship with Him in our lives, and we completely miss out.

The second reason is unsuitability, which also boils down to a choice. One of the banquet-goers in the parable chooses to come without the required style of dress, and is thrown out. He represents those of us who theoretically, hypothetically make a choice for Christ, but then do not actively choose to live the life of grace. Without sanctity, we do not enter Heaven.

The first reading is beautiful and consoling, as it describes what it will be like to participate in the feast God has prepared for us. The gospel is a bit more grim. Jesus lays a lot of emphasis on those who don’t make it. He’s not trying to discourage us. Rather, aware at how much is at stake for us, He is doing all He can to give us teaching to ensure that we will be among those counted at the feast.

But overall, again, the readings are about God’s Providence. the feast is prepared; it is there waiting for us. Nor are we left on our own to navigate there. As the psalm says, “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. In verdant pastures he gives me repose; beside restful waters he leads me; he refreshes my soul.” God Himself is shepherding us toward the banquet. All we need do is take His hand and allow Him to lead us there.

The road is a tough one. Sometimes it feels like we’ve got it all under control. Other times, we feel like we are floundering. But in one circumstance and the other, God is there for those who lean on them and ensures their eternal success. As St. Paul says in the second reading, “I have learned the secret of being well fed and of going hungry, of living in abundance and of being in need. I can do all things in him who strengthens me.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to be your guide on the adventure of life. Commit to Him that you want His path, the path to the heavenly banquet. Ask Him to do whatever it takes to get you there, even if at some times that means living in want, or caring about the welfare of other so much that your heart bleeds. Lean on Him in your heart, and ask Him with trust to shepherd you home.

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Two Roads Diverged in a Wood, and I–

Two Roads

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


Salvation was a hot topic in the 1500s within Christianity. Subject of much debate. Not so much anymore–because many take it for granted.

There is a mistaken logic prevalent among Catholics, often believed but not as often expressed, that goes something like this: God is infinitely kind and merciful, and He created human beings out of love, for eternal happiness. God, being omnipotent, is also not a failure. Now, we must not be heretics; we believe in human free will; we believe that not all are necessarily saved. But to go to hell after death, you need to live in open, explicit, clear, and stubborn rebellion against God. God will reluctantly respect such a decision to reject Him eternally. But in the end, given this threshold, few souls are lost. All the Scriptures (particularly the Gospel passages) that point to many taking the road to perdition are hyperbole aimed at helping assure that we don’t make the mistake of open rebellion against God.

But what if Jesus’ words–and in this case, they’re not very mysterious–what if they are true, at face value? What if the road to salvation really is narrow, and those who take it few? And the road to perdition wide and spacious, and those who travel it, many? (Cf. Lk. 13:23 and Mt. 7:13-14)

If this were the case, wouldn’t God be unjust–not to us, but to Himself, as infinitely merciful? Wouldn’t He, the omnipotent one, have failed?

Today’s readings go far in answering that question. “You say, ‘The LORD’s way is not fair!’ Hear now, house of Israel: Is it my way that is unfair, or rather, are not your ways unfair?” The Israelites seem to have grappled with the same questions that we do. Through the prophet, God goes on to say, in summary, “All you have to do is turn from the path of selfishness to the path of virtue, and you shall preserve your life. Why is that unfair?”

The Gospel passage reiterates this message eloquently. If we are to be saved, Jesus demands that we change. This is the contrast he makes between the prostitutes and tax collectors and the chief priests: The former repented and changed, the latter did not.

To lose our eternal salvation–a terrible prospect–we do not need actively to reject God. All we need to do, and we may do it by passive procrastination, is reject this change that is the condition for entering Heaven. All we need do is reject the transformation process God proposes to us. And, because this transformation involves radical, deep, and painful purification and detachment, it is very easy for us to reject it, simply by putting it off and ignoring it.

The road to perdition is wide and spacious, and many are those who travel it.

Is God betraying Himself, His mercy, when souls are lost? God would indeed betray Himself if He were to override the freedom He gave us by saving us without our cooperation. Is He a failure, if many are lost? His success is glorious when even one soul, having retained intact the mind-blowing gift of freedom by which God created us in His own image, and by which He made the decision to place limits on His own omnipotence, reaches the exalted destiny of holiness to which He calls all of us.

So, are His ways unfair? No, our ways are unfair, when, after all He has done to keep the door to salvation open to us, including acceptance of the radical humiliation of death on a cross described by St. Paul in the second reading, we refuse to walk through that door.

Now as we realize all these things, like the hearers of the apostles right after Pentecost, we may be cut to the heart and say, “What are we to do, my brothers?” (Cf. Acts 2:37)

Paul gives us the answer in that same second reading, when explaining the means to achieve unity in heart through love.

He explains that the secret is to be humble–but not just with any humility. He says, “Have in you the same attitude that is also in Christ Jesus,” who took the form of a slave and humbled Himself, becoming obedient to the point of death on a cross.

In the end, we must be humble enough to embrace and choose not only salvation, but the radical transformation required for holiness, the fullness of the exalted destiny to which God has called us in Christ. Because in the end, salvation and holiness are the same thing, and the former does not come without the latter. And the path of transformation is hard, because it means following the same path as Jesus: Humble obedience to God, even to the point of suffering.

The choice before us may seem radical. But so is the glory and happiness to the eternal life to which we are called.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Tell Jesus that you want Him to do the work in you that He is longing to do, to transform you. Ask Him to make sure this choice comes to fruition. Tell Him that in the midst of weakness and ignorance, you cannot do this without Him taking the process over. Tell Him you trust Him for your destiny, and ask Him to help you trust Him more.

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Way Up There

Sky

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


In the first reading, we find the kind of subtle paradox that we may miss at first, and that may make us do a double-take. In the same paragraph: “He is near”; and, “As high as the heavens are above the earth, so high are my ways above your ways,” says the Lord.

So which is it? Is He near, or is He traversing ways that are as high above us as the heavens are above the earth?

Theologians call this the mystery of God’s immanence (im-manence, remaining within) and transcendence–the fact that He is within us or, poetically, just a breath away; and yet, his mode of being, His nature, is infinitely exalted above human nature.

In redeeming us, Jesus could have simply restored our nature to its former capability for friendship with God, as we see in Genesis. But He has taken redemption a mind-blowing step further: He allows us to share in this infinitely superior divine nature, just as He shares in our finite human nature. He bridges the divide, and gives us an opportunity to participate in the divine, in a manner not seen even before Adam’s fall. This is what it means when the priest quietly says, when mixing the wine with a drop of water at Mass, “By the mystery of this water and wine may we come to share in the divinity of Christ, who humbled Himself to share in our humanity.”

This is what awaits us, if we can–per Jesus’ invitation to the rich young man, and to us as well–detach ourselves from everything created, from all worry, and from all ambition, in the pursuit of holiness. This participation in the divine nature is the pearl of great price of which Jesus speaks, the pearl we attain when God and His Kingdom fully reign in us (cf. Mt. 13:45-46).

But knowing that we are not fully there yet, that we are still traveling on the journey toward this objective (though partially enjoying it already through the grace of God within), we may ask ourselves: In what sense are God’s ways above our ways?

Today’s Gospel passage answers that question clearly for us. God is not only willing to forgive. He is also willing to “compensate” those He forgives, albeit at the eleventh hour, with the same rewards given to those who have persevered faithfully always. Not only that, He goes out tirelessly and seeks out the new laborers. This is crucial. He doesn’t wait for them to come looking for a job. He seeks them out.

These days, the willingness to embrace and fully reward the sinner may not strike us as much as it would have ears of ages past, because often today’s Christian has no sense of the resounding cosmic gravity of sin, of offending Him who created each of us as well as the universe itself. Yet, God is willing to embrace the idle, late-coming sinner and forget his cataclysmic offenses in a matter of a moment, in the blink of an eye, and reward him boundlessly even for those last moments in the vineyard.

Perhaps what more clearly and readily see as something foreign to us, as something far above us, is the tirelessness with which He seeks out the idle sinner, not content to wait for him to discover and react to his own misery.

Because God respects human freedom, though, which becomes a limit He imposes upon Himself, He “needs” us to pray and sacrifice for others in order to bring them the grace He wishes for them. And we do well to trust in the power of this prayer. As Jesus said to St. Faustina: “A prayer for the conversion of sinners never goes unanswered.”

Based on Jesus’ teaching in the Gospel, if we tirelessly pursue the conversion of sinners with our prayer and sacrifice, not content to passively await their awakening, our ways start to look like God’s ways, which are so far above us. And, our hearts and behavior start to reflect the divine nature in which we already participate through grace her on earth.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Imagine you are looking back on your life after death, contemplating its eternal value. Contemplate in your heart a multitude of persons from all nations and walks of life who could have joined you in heaven, with a bit more prayer and offering of your sufferings for them. Ask Jesus to inflame in you the fire that burns in His Sacred Heart for the eternal happiness of souls.

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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.

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A Binary Choice

Binary

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


To truly appreciate, wonder at, and ultimately experience the surpassing joy that is an ongoing relationship with God, it is important to understand how terrible by contrast is the sin in which we habitually live.

When the rich young man approaches Jesus to ask Him what is necessary to gain eternal life, Jesus does not tell him to do his best, that God understands his wounds and psychological limitations–do your best, and God’s mercy will lift you up out of your misery after this life into eternal bliss.

He holds a much simpler line. He says, “Keep the commandments.”

The truly amazing thing about this exchange is that, rather than balking at this hard line, the rich young man realizes that beyond even this challenge, something is still lacking, not just in general, but for attaining his aim–for attaining eternal life.

Jesus does not gainsay his further prodding. He asserts what Catholic salvation theology will later reaffirm and explain: That to enter heaven, complete detachment from created reality and exclusive attachment to God is not optional, but necessary. Indeed, it may be posited that people go to Hell, not so much because they reject God as because they reject the painful and necessary process of their own transformation through detachment.

All sin stems in some way from from attachment to self and created things. And the first reading spells out with horrible clarity what this attachment leads to: Ultimately, a despoiling of all happiness. We may see an allegory of this in the cocaine addict. It is said that the first cocaine hit is the best; the addict thereafter chases that first high but never fully finds it again, as each succeeding high is less gratifying than the last, and the addict descends into complete, inescapable misery. So it is with the soul attached to self and creative things, in habitual sin. Life in sin is so miserable, that drastic, painful wake-up calls, like that portrayed in the first reading, come to resemble more an intervention for a drug addict than a punishment.

Still, as miserable as the life of sin is, many more times exalted is life with God, here on earth, but especially in eternity. “…and you will have treasure in heaven.”

Ultimately, the choice for God or for sin is drastic and binary: “He who does not gather with me, scatters.” Nor is it a choice between two paths at a fork in the road, but rather, a choice to paddle upstream, or to drift. Those who make the choice to drift will not enjoy friendship with God on earth or, more importantly, enter eternal life.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Affirm categorically that your life choice is for Him, that you are willing to undergo whatever sacrifice and accept whatever suffering is necessary in the process of choosing Him over sin. Look at a crucifix and thank Him for opening the door to this choice, which was tragically closed to us by our first parents, through His act of salvation.

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It’s Either/Or

Two Roads

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


In the 1960s and 1970s, it seemed the Church was replete with theologians excited to invent–convinced, it appeared, that their hour was the hour of innovation. The thirst for innovation seemed in some cases to surpass the thirst for truth.

One of the brand new theological trends of that time, which unfortunately remains prevalent to this very day among even good and noble souls, is the notion that maybe, just maybe–read: probably, likely–all or at least most people in the end are saved.

This supposition flies in the face of the prior one-thousand-nine-hundred-something years of tradition in the Church and the unanimous teaching of the saints. It also flies in the face of the Gospel itself, where Jesus unequivocally states that those who walk the broad road that leads to damnation are many (cf. Mt. 7:13).

Such theology rejects the message of the first reading wholesale, or relegates it completely to Old Testament times. Yet, this first reading is a very tame precursor to the terrible separation of the sheep from the goats at Final Judgement, about which Jesus explicitly speaks (Mt. 25: 31-46).

And in today’s Gospel, He talks about treating those who commit offenses and fail to listen to the Church as outcasts, indicating further that whatever the Church binds or looses on earth is likewise bound or loosed in Heaven.

That God allows souls to be condemned is of course as mysterious as it is certain–but a sort of understanding can be reached if we accept that God values human freedom more than He does human salvation. He would rather allow persons to walk to their own perdition than remove from them their freedom by forcing salvation on them when they have rejected it.

But who in his right mind would reject God’s mercy and eternal life, in the end, if given the choice?

This too, while mysterious, can be understood in a way when we realize that, by and large, people don’t reject God’s mercy and love–they reject the prospect of their own transformation. In the end, only saints stand in the presence of God. Standing before Him without full alignment to Him would in fact be a fate more painful than Hell. Reaching sainthood, whether on earth or in purgatory, is a deeply painful process of detachment, and while the end result is exaltation, the process feels like one is being turned inside out.

And many, many reject the prospect of this process–quietly but explicitly, in the recesses of their hearts–and lose God as the inevitable result. There is no middle ground.

But hearken to the second-to-last statement in today’s Gospel! “If two of you agree on earth about anything for which they are to pray, it shall be granted to them by my heavenly Father.”

Per the message of St. Faustina, the Church must come together as never before and pray and sacrifice for the conversion of sinners. And in line with today’s Gospel, Our Lord assured this saint that prayer for the conversion of sinners is always answered.

Heavenly Father, by the infinite power of the sacrifice of your Son, penetrate deeply into the hearts of sinners, and convert them to yourself! I give you my freedom as a small token; leverage it as you did the self-gift of the Blessed Virgin Mary to pry open the hardened hearts of sinners and show them compellingly what they are missing! Lead them to Yourself!

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Him to what lengths He would go–in fact, went–to open the door for sinners to walk through to their salvation. Contemplate the degree of His sacrifice for the eternal fulfillment of human persons. And ask Him what role He would like you to play to help them put one foot in front of the other and walk through that door.

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