Tag: <span>Judgement</span>

April 14, 2021April 14, 2021

Not Playing for the Crowd

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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January 6, 2021December 30, 2020

Strength Against Fear

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

“There is no fear in love.”

This simple line from today’s first reading at first seems like a nice, pious thought–but then, we realize it sets before us an apparently unachievable goal. One of today’s most common names for fear is anxiety–and which of us does not feel anxiety? Must we somehow immunize ourselves against what can often be a daily, involuntary emotion in order to achieve love?

What if we were in a small boat on violent waves, like the disciples in today’s gospel? Could anyone blame us for feeling a bit panicky? Yet, Jesus says, “Take courage, it is I, do not be afraid!”

Two considerations may be helpful here. First of all, there is a chasm of difference between the sensation and emotion of anxiety, and living by anxiety. True, for those of us habituated to allowing anxiety to lead us as a rule, they can be one and the same. But if we look at the lives of the saints, we see that sometimes they feel fear, but they do not allow it to direct their judgement and their decisions. And neither should we, since we have given our lives to God and trust in His Providence to rule and guide us.

Our Lady is our best example, next to Christ Himself, of how to handle the sentiment of anxiety. When the angel Gabriel came to visit her at the Annunciation, she felt deeply troubled. She could not immediately understand the implications of what the angel was asking of her, even though she tried–and this left her disconcerted. From the description in the Gospel, it is safe to say that she was experiencing anxiety.

But Mary did not allow this sentiment to rule her–rather, she based her judgement and decisions on faith and trust in God. She explicitly went back to the root of her identity in the midst of her disorientation, stating, “I am the handmaid of the Lord.” And as such she was able to fulfill the will of the Father: “May it be done unto me according to your word.”

Contrast this mode of reacting to Gabriel’s message with that of Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist, in Lk. 1:5-25–narrated in the Gospel immediately before Mary’s encounter with the angel. Zechariah essentially says, “Why should I believe you?” His anxiety leads him to seek a sure footing before he is willing to accept God’s message in faith. At this moment, Zechariah was a man who let himself be led by his anxiety. Gabriel didn’t seem to take kindly to it: “I am Gabriel, who stand before God. I was sent to speak to you and to announce to you this good news. But now you will be speechless and unable to talk until the day these things take place, because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled at their proper time.”

The second consideration: When we habitually form our judgement independently from our feelings of anxiety (and sometimes this means waiting until a strong feeling of anxiety subsides), very gradually, over a long period of time, the feelings themselves lessen in strength, no longer rushing in so aggressively. They are almost like a bully who, realizing he is not getting any fun out of a particular victim, begins to leave the victim alone.

Feelings of anxiety never fully leave us. Consider even Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane: Sweating blood, so overwrought was He by the stress caused by the burden of our sin loaded upon Him, and the prospect of His impending death. But again, like Mary, He decided independently of that anxiety: “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet, not as I will, but as you will.”

When it comes to our judgements and our decisions, what St. John tells us stands: “There is no fear in love.”

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to help you remain in control of the impulses of your passions and emotions. Ask Him for the supernatural gift of trust, whereby your certainty of His loving, providential care governs all your decisions.

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November 26, 2020November 11, 2020

Done Like Dinner

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

The flow of Scripture over the course of the liturgical year is rich in signification.

It is interesting how the Scriptures from final days of the liturgical year dovetail like hand in glove with those of the rebirth of the liturgical year, in Advent. In Advent, in addition to commemorating and contemplating that time in history when the world silently and breathlessly awaited the arrival of its Savior, Scripture also encourages us to contemplate and anticipate the second and final coming of Jesus.

That coming of Jesus in the end times is precisely what Scripture commemorates also at the end of the liturgical year, which symbolically represents the close of salvation history.

On days like today, we hear about the world trembling to its foundations, and the Son of Man coming upon a cloud.

There are two realities at work in our world. The first is the fundamental orientation of humankind, which is an orientation based on original sin toward a sort of mediocre fixation on personal gratification, with a modicum of virtue necessary for social relations. The second is the glorious action of Divine Providence, which, in the midst of human blunt-minded selfishness, sustains not only the workings of mortally wounded nature, but also the limited success of human endeavor.

The first reading shows us, however, that at Jesus’ final coming, the city of selfishness–Babylon–will be definitively brought down.

The current delicate balance of things will not last forever. It is destined for transformation.

Rationalists call the dramatic foretellers of an imminent apocalypse among us insane, inasmuch as these doomsayers place too much weight on catastrophes which they claim signify the end times.

In truth, these apocalyptic sorts are not mistaken because they see the signs of the end in our time–their only mistake is to fail to see them in all times. Everything about our world, with this delicate balance between benevolent, powerful, yet subtle Providence, and the catastrophic effects of sin, screams and has always screamed: “It Cannot Go On. It Is Destined to End.”

All of which turns our hearts once again to the topic of eternity. A life spent oriented toward helping as many as possible to embrace the radical demands of God’s love for the sake of their eternal welfare–such a life is a life well spent.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Imagine as vividly as you can the final coming of Jesus. Imagine it occurring right now. How abrupt it feels! Why did we not prepare for this, when we were so amply warned, not only by Scripture but by the signs all around us? Ask Jesus to help you live with a sense of the imminent end in mind, for whenever it comes, it is the world’s definitive destiny.

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November 24, 2020November 10, 2020

The Grapes of Wrath

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

Video games today are characterized by photorealism. Travel is quick and relatively painless. As for smart phones: One finds pictures on the Internet of all the things that used to require their own device, and now fit on that device in your pocket: Radios and CD players, cameras, DVD players, TVs, calculators, flash lights, etc.

We may truly marvel at these things and think that humanity has really arrived.

So it was for the Jews of Jesus’ day who felt like their nation had really arrived, as they contemplated the rich, beautiful adornments of the temple. But Jesus warned them that of that temple, stone would not be left upon stone.

Such admonitions could cause us to wonder: When will the next shoe drop? Dystopian post-apocalyptic stories are popular today, partly because there is a latent fear in many of our disproportionate reliance on our ultra-sophisticated technological advances.

But Jesus assures us that while, yes, conflicts will arise and bad things will happen, we need not fear total collapse until the true end–the time appointed by God.

Today’s first reading foretells what will occur when that end comes. It talks about the son of man reaping earth’s harvest with a sharp sickle, and an angel reaping the ripe grapes from the earth. This actually sounds somewhat positive until, in the last line, we learn that these grapes are cast into the winepress of God’s fury!

It is important to work for justice on the earth, to ensure that our systems of government are not oppressive, and even to strive for technological advances that can make people’s lives easier. Imagine, for example, an invention that ensured provision of fresh water to every human on the planet.

But we need not expect the earth to turn into a utopia, a near-ideal place to live, as the result of efforts for justice. Scripture is clear that the world has rebelled against God, and its state of rebellion will endure. At the end of time, the fruits the world produces as a whole will not be pleasing to God. And so, while striving for justice on this earth, we must above all strive to help others convert to Christ for the sake of their eternal welfare, after their earthly life.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Think about where your hopes lie. Do you hope in some way for an earthly utopia? Maybe you’ll finally find paradise on your next vacation… Maybe in retirement… Ask Jesus to help you understand if your earthly hopes for happiness are unrealistic and perhaps unbalanced, and to help you place your hope in His destiny for you in eternity.

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November 22, 2020November 9, 2020

King Unequaled

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

On this feast of Christ the King, we see a rich array of what Jesus’ kingship means:

In the first reading and the psalm, we see Him as merciful shepherd–a King who gathers and leads His people.

In the second reading, we see Him as destroyer and subjugator of competing powers–a King who knows no equal.

In the Gospel, we see Him as a judge who welcomes or condemns us for eternity based on our acts of charity and kindness toward others–a King who administers justice.

If there is one overall impression one can draw from these readings, it is that He is tender and kind to those who have taken up the offer of salvation He has made at the price of His own blood. As we see in the first reading, this includes those who are lost or who stray.

But He does not hesitate to cast from His sight those arrogant enough to rebuff Him with the strength of their own freedom, or who ignore His demands of kindness and mercy toward others–“the sleek and the strong” sheep of the first reading, the goats of the Gospel, “every authority and power” in the second reading.

Jesus is no milquetoast King. This should fill us with exuberant joy, hope, and confidence on the one hand, but deep concern and determination on the other: Joy in the knowledge that if we ask Him too, He will assist us in our efforts to fulfill His will and protect our eternal destiny; concern and determination to pray and sacrifice constantly that as many will be saved as possible.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Close your eyes and imagine final judgement as described by Jesus today, where He, crowned King, discerns who is to be saved, and who is to be condemned. What can you do to feed those who are hungry precisely for the salvation that He metes out in judgement? How is He asking you to participate in His merciful act of salvation? Ask Him how you can assist Him in His grand mission of bringing as many as possible to Heaven.

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November 13, 2020October 28, 2020

Separation

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

Jesus does this a lot, and it is annoying to our refined worldly sensibilities. He preaches on a separation at the end of time/end of our lives in stark contrast to the amalgamation/non-separation of people here on earth. This amalgamation will persist until the very last day, as in the days of Noah: “They were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage up to the day that Noah entered the ark.”

But the annoying part is that the separation is coming, and Jesus just won’t stop talking about it.

Perhaps if we were gods, we would do things differently. Perhaps we would set things up such that things persist just as they are right into eternity. Perhaps we would make it such that, to avoid the radical result of condemnation of many, the few who radically choose Jesus would be deprived of the monumental transformation and exaltation that comes with the reward of the beatific vision in eternity.

But we are not gods. We must trust and obey. And pray and sacrifice ceaselessly for the eternal happiness of our fellow humans, attained through conversion. In the way God has in fact set things up, we may glimpse how worthwhile and different eternal happiness is from happiness, even spiritual happiness, here on earth–that God would sacrifice so much that we may attain it.

In the first reading, St. John reminds us that we don’t need to be particularly clever or invent anything new to make the choice for Christ and follow Him. We need only persevere in fulfilling His Commandment of love (cf. Mt. 22:37-40). “If you keep my commandments, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and remain in his love.” (Jn. 15:10)

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Contemplate eternity. Imagine, as best you can, heaven and hell. Drink in the mystery that there is in fact a separation in the end, and some will go to heaven, and others, hell. Be open with Jesus: Ask Him why He set things up this way. And ask Him for the grace to be effective not only in reaching heaven, but especially in assisting others in choosing this path.

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September 21, 2020September 7, 2020

Finger-Waggers

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

Matthew, whose feast we celebrate today, is best known for being a person sick with sin, a resented tax collector, whom Jesus came to heal. Oh and also, for writing one of the four most important texts in history: The Gospel of St. Matthew.

As so often is the case, the interplay between today’s first reading and today’s gospel is fascinating. Paul starts us off with a plea for unity, echoing Jesus’ priestly prayer in Jn. 17. Repeating a favorite theme of his, Paul talks about how people have different gifts, but all are necessary for the health and function of the one body.

If we look through history, what is the great destroyer of unity? The fundamental answer is obvious: It is the sin of the human will through pride and sensuality, and the consequent clouding of the human intellect. Sin sets us against one another, and as a result of sin, our intellects assess and understand reality differently from one another, sometimes radically so.

But let us take a closer look at the cause for disunity in the Christian Church, specifically. Why has the Church broken apart in ages past, and what strains it most today? In addition to the sins of Christians, it is our reaction to and magnification of the sins of others that performs the coup de grace on Christian unity.

Consider the Protestant Reformation. Hey Pope, you’re doing bad things. You’re living a worldly, sinful life, you are sensual and arrogant, and you are abusing the faithful through the sale of indulgences and similar misuses of power. So what am I going to do to purify the Church? Leave. I’m taking my ball and going home. Your sin trumps my loyalty to the Church that Christ founded.

We can wag our finger at Martin Luther and fellow reformers all we want, but how often do we act similarly? You, fellow Catholic, or maybe pastor of my parish, are superficial, arrogant, not spiritual, hypocritical, etc. So, I am going to criticize you bitterly, commit the grievous sin of gossip with no remorse, and even lose hope in Christ’s promise to protect His Church.

In doing all of this, even if I am a “faithful,” orthodox Catholic, a daily Mass-goer, etc., I am the one who is driving the definitive cleaver into Church unity.

What lies at the root of this sin? The root lies in a lack of the theological virtues, especially all-important Hope, without which Charity is impossible.. And the root of this lack, as of so many things, is a lack of a healthy prayer life. Even the benefit of frequent reception of the sacraments is severely truncated when we do not dedicate time to the cultivation of a vibrant life of contemplative prayer, that is, simple, daily dialogue with Jesus Christ where we seek to know His Heart. It is in the school of prayer that we learn Jesus’ view of our fellow Christians, which is not one of bitter, frustrated condemnation, but rather one of patient and loving mercy.

The apostles, even with all the flaws we may perceive in them in the Gospel, provide us with a mute but eloquent example for Christian unity. Never once do we see them questioning Jesus for inviting Matthew, a greedy and worldly tax collector, to be one of His disciples. Never do we see the thoughtful apostle St. John upbraiding the brash Peter, or questioning Jesus’ decision to choose him as prince of the apostles. Later, St. Paul, in questioning Peter on various Church matters, does so with a respect devoid of bitterness and harsh judgement.

What is the key to the unity and lack of bitterness among the apostles? It is contact with Jesus, and His treatment of the other, His love for their particular potential even in the midst of their weakness and sin. It is contact with Jesus that will build unity in today’s Church as well, and this contact for us translates into the powerful blend of contemplative prayer and sacramental life. This unconquerable blend turns our bitterness toward our fellow sinful Christians into recognition of their potential, and passionate zeal for their spiritual and temporal welfare, built upon serene, unshakable trust in the triumph of Jesus Christ.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Think of a fellow Christian with whom your struggle. Maybe it’s someone close, even your spouse; maybe it’s a more public figure. Ask Jesus how His heart contemplates that person, and what He wants for them. Ask Him to form your heart to be more like His. Maybe, like Matthew, that person will be called to turn around and make a powerful contribution to the welfare of the Church–through your love and intercession.

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September 4, 2020August 23, 2020

I Don’t Know My Judgement, but I Do Know My Judge

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

Today’s readings are overflowing with abandonment to the loving sovereignty of God.

In the first reading, St. Paul takes nothing for granted. He does not consider himself acquitted–for he has yet to undergo the judgement of God. But we do not find him afraid, either. He certainly is afraid of no human tribunal. We find this borne out amply in his life; as promised, the Holy Spirit inspires in him what to say before the courts of men (cf. Lk. 12:12, Acts 23), and in the end, Paul goes to his martyrdom without fear.

But Paul, while considering himself not acquitted, also does not fear the judgement of God. He calmly and serenely submits to the fact that God will judge him. That he does not fear that judgement, even though he knows not the outcome beforehand, teaches us a great lesson.

Elsewhere, Paul tells us, “I know him in whom I have believed.” (2 Tim. 1:12) This is the key to the apparent paradox whereby Paul knows not the outcome of his own eventual judgement, and yet is not afraid. He knows Christ’s love for him so intimately, and leans on that love so completely, that “outcomes” are secondary to him. Judgement is not his main concern. His main concern is the love of Jesus Christ, for his life “is hidden with Christ in God.” (cf. Col.. 3:3)

The interesting thing is that Paul is not utterly “selfless” in this regard, that is, devoid of a healthy concern for his own welfare. Rather, what he ultimately relies on for his own welfare and happiness is not how virtuous he will be seen to be, but rather the love of Christ that he has experienced.

How beautifully his sentiment is echoed by today’s psalm: “The salvation of the just comes from the Lord.”

In the Gospel today, we find different times and circumstances calling for different behavior. When the bridegroom is present, no fasting occurs; when not, then comes the fast. We are not to remedy problems of today with the solutions tailored to yesterday. For those who treat Christianity as a rule book, this “inconsistency” can prove befuddling. Indeed, as times change and solutions evolve, those seeking absolute consistency in all things within Christianity can even come to despair of it.

Not so, those who adopt St. Paul’s attitude. Because the beauty of Christianity, the thing that intoxicates us, the pearl of great price for which we gladly sell everything else that we have, is the love of Christ. And when we understand that, we allow the personification of that Love–the Holy Spirit–to guide us day by day, through every changing time and circumstance, adjusting solutions on the fly. We have experienced the love of Christ, we have experienced the Holy Spirit, and we know that, even though “thousands fall around us” (cf. Ps. 91:7), He will not let us down.

Because we know Him in whom we have believed.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to help you to be faithful to your daily prayer commitment. Ask Him to build the relationship with Him that you long to have: A relationship of complete and total intimacy and trust, whereby your confidence in the Holy Spirit in your life is unfailing, solid as a rock. Ask Him to inundate you, until nothing–not even the outcome of your eternal judgement–is as important to you as leaning on His love.

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