Tag: <span>Pride</span>

February 15, 2021February 1, 2021

The Yardstick

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

If today we see a clear common thread between the sin of the Pharisees at which Jesus sighs in the gospel, and the sin of Cain from centuries earlier in the first reading, perhaps we can identify an attribute common to sin in general. And if we can identify a common attribute, perhaps we can identify its seeds germinating in us, even before we fall into it, and uproot those seeds.

At first glance, Cain may appear to have a right to be disgruntled. The first reading does not specify why God wasn’t please with his offering. Maybe Cain and Abel both did the best they could, and God was being finicky.

Not likely, though. It appears safe to assume that Cain either didn’t do his best in cultivating the field, or his offering to God was not the best from what he had. He had done the primeval equivalent of phoning it in.

Cain is angry and resentful about God’s reaction to his offering. Here is where we can stop, and look at the Pharisees’ attitude for commonality.

The Pharisees ask Jesus for a sign “to test him.” The Pharisees consider themselves the arbiters, the judges, and Jesus the one who needs to prove Himself. With God Himself right in their midst, they have set themselves in His chair–on the chair of judgement, and judgement over Him.

Not so far afield from what Cain was doing. When he became disgruntled at God’s reaction, rather than using God as the measuring stick and adjusting himself accordingly, Cain used himself as the measuring stick and thus found fault with God–and ultimately, unable to punish God, he took it out on Abel. Like the Pharisees, he set himself in the judgement seat over God.

The sin of pride. There it is. Unwillingness to be schooled by God, or schooled by others.

Even Eve seems to have learned her lesson in the first reading, to have eaten some humble pie. She recognizes that she has not “become like gods” as promised by the serpent–she recognizes the Lord’s help and hand in the gift of her child.

Pride: The root of all sins, present in some way in all. Conquer pride, and you have conquered yourself.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to give you the immeasurably valuable gift of humility, and help you to shift your measure for all things to His view, His will, His desires, His loves, rather than your view, your will, your desires, your loves.

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February 11, 2021January 27, 2021

The Box

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

Can God be kept in a box?

Solomon didn’t think so, as we see in today’s first reading. “Can it indeed be that God dwells on earth? If the heavens and the highest heavens cannot contain you, how much less this temple which I have built!”

Solomon’s humility before God is refreshing in the face of the Pharisees in today’s gospel. Fast-forward a few centuries from Solomon, and the Jewish religious authorities think they’ve managed to box God in thoroughly. They’ve hemmed Him in on every side with their niggling little precepts about cup-polishing and bed-cleansing, about helping a mule on the Sabbath but not a human being. The message is simple: Do all these little things, and you receive a get-out-of-jail free card; you don’t even have to give God a second thought. He’s placated.

And so they acted in their own lives. They roundly disregarded God and neighbor. It is perhaps especially the latter that utterly infuriates Jesus. His compassion for the needs of his fellow humans is His acute focus, and the Pharisees’ tone-setting of blithe disregard stirs His wrath.

But in the end, God can live in a box. Jesus channels His wrath, not in destruction, but in self-sacrifice, so totally encompassing mankind is His loving compassion that He even prays specifically for those killing Him, a group that includes those same Pharisees. And He does so with his some of His last breaths.

He boxes Himself into the temple of human flesh, He boxes Himself into imprisonment, suffering, and death. He suffers every limitation willingly to free us from the stifling box of our own sin, and to free us from every boundary, allowing us to taste infinity.

And ultimately, to this day, He literally boxes Himself into the tabernacle present in every Catholic Church, so that from that vantage point He can accompany us in our challenges and tribulations.

Whom all the world cannot contain, limits Himself that we may find boundlessness.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to take you up into the dynamic, not only of the limitless of His divinity, but then also of His self-sacrifice for His creatures. Ask Him to fill you with the compassion that drove Him to distraction. Ask Him to fill you with His greatness, that you may join Him in self-giving for the needy.

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February 9, 2021January 26, 2021

Paradise Lost, Paradise Found

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

In Jesus’ condemnation of the attitude of the Pharisees we see how man has corrupted the beautiful destiny God assigned to Him, the destiny we see in the first reading–to rule as just monarch over all creation.

Instead, the Pharisees of Jesus’ time and so, so many in our time as well seek oppression of their fellow man in order to secure their own dominance and power.

The gift of God at creation, dominance over that creation, was lost to man with original sin, and ever since he pitiably seeks to establish some semblance of his sense of dignity, nobility, and greatness. He seeks cheap dominance over his brothers and sisters, and a vain, passing taste of superiority.

The entire story arc of Jesus’ life, and by extension the life of His faithful followers, is the exact inverse of this pitiable clawing for scraps of self-worth. Jesus does not seek to rise, but indeed descends and abases Himself by taking on flesh, out of love. He comes from a place of infinite superiority and perfect security to make Himself the vulnerable servant.

We, His followers, will never get beyond the shadow of the ideal of following in Jesus’ humble footsteps if we do not first fill ourselves with His greatness, His security through our relationship with Him in prayer and in the sacraments. A full dose of these gifts of Jesus comes slowly, through a steadfast commitment to a sometimes “unfulfilling” stretch of daily contemplative prayer. But the reward is a complete upending of our miserable lives, turned over to represent the descending and re-ascending arc of Jesus as we give ourselves to our fellow humans.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Tell Jesus that you want the destiny He has come to give you, which transcends even the original greatness and nobility of Adam. Then ask Him to give you the courage and the means to follow His story arc of self-forgetfulness to bring other humans to the same destiny that you have found.

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December 20, 2020December 16, 2020

Housebuilder

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

Christian life is hard. There is a critical element of dogged consistency to it. It is not just a question of following the “do nots” of the Ten Commandments, though this in itself presents its challenges. It is also a question of consistency in our sacramental life and prayer time, especially meditation on Scripture. Also, there is an element of being present for others and helping them to live the faith, per the demands of our vocation–not to mention Christian charity, both toward the poor and toward each of our neighbors.

Because “our part” in the Christian life is not easy, we often make the mistake that David did in today’s first reading. He decided he was going to build a house for the Lord.

God appears both pleased, in a way, and yet, corrective. His words seem to say, “What do you mean you are going to build me a house? Do you think I need you to provide my needs for me? Look at what I’ve done for you…but that’s only the beginning. I’m going to build a house for you that will last forever.” He doesn’t punish David for his misunderstanding of things. To the contrary, He reconfirms the great destiny He has in store for David’s line.

How this resonates for us in our Christian life! Because “our part” in our relationship with God seems daunting at times, we make the mistake that our mission on this earth is to do something monumental for God. We grow restless when we don’t find something glamorous to achieve on His behalf.

As challenging as the Christian life is, especially when we consider how much needs to be changed in the world if it is to be brought back to God, we can react like David: “Hey, I think I’ll go build God a thing.”

The most glorious, wonderful paradox in Christian life: Far, far more productive is Mary’s attitude toward God, present conveniently for us in today’s Gospel passage in sharp contrast to David’s: “I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done unto me according to your word.” Mary realizes from moment zero that the wonders to be worked in her life are to be worked by God Himself. Her life is not her big project for God. It is His big project for her.

Thus, Mary’s gift of herself, of her life, to God is not the gift of a grand project for achievement, but rather the gift of her “yes,” her enthusiastic embracing of His plan for her, whatever it will bring.

Even as Mary’s response contrasts with David’s in the first reading encounter with God, it also fulfills it. In her perfect embodiment of God’s plan, with perfect grace, Mary brings forth Him who is the Personification of the permanence of the reign of David’s house.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to shape and purify your understanding of your relationship with Him. Ask Him to help you to be faithful to all the demands of Christian life, but to remember that all of this is just your simple, humble “yes” that sets the stage for Him to accomplish things in your life that are beyond your imagination.

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December 15, 2020December 10, 2020

Even God Cannot Sink This Ship

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

There are many forms of sin. They all hinder us from following the Lord’s Great Commandment, whereby we love God above all things, and our neighbor as ourselves. (cf. Mk. 12:30-31)

Laziness keeps us from making effort to spend time with God in prayer, and serve neighbor. Gluttony turns our focus on our own pleasure–to the point of self-harm–and away from love. Lust makes objects of other human beings, and desecrates something set up by God as sacred.

Still, upon the discovery of the wonder of Christ, when one truly experiences Him, we see how suddenly these sins don’t seem so attractive anymore–they are cast aside in favor of Christ. We see, for example, how Zacchaeus the tax collector of a moment leaves his life of greed to follow Jesus, when Jesus comes to eat in his house (cf. Lk. 19:1-10).

An experience of Christ, for the sinner, is like the experience of finding that fullness of happiness that has been the object of a vain, frustrating search in all the wrong, empty places.

One of the seven capital sins, however, is actually exacerbated by an experience of Christ: The sin of Pride. Jesus’ call to obey God and sacrifice for others challenges the heart of stubborn Pride, which seeks autonomy and willful self-governance at all costs.

Thus, in today’s Gospel passages, we see tax collectors and other sinners repenting at the preaching of John the Baptist and Jesus’ preaching, but the Pharisees–whose only sin seems to be that of Pride–stubbornly and tragically resisting faith in Christ, resisting the key to their own temporal and eternal happiness.

In the first reading, too, the sin for which God sharply corrects His people is precisely that sin by which they refuse to be corrected–the sin of Pride. His remedy in the case of the Pride in the midst of His people is to remove the proud–we do not hear of conversion of their hearts.

Over and over again in Scripture, Old and New Testaments, we see Pride ending in tragedy, which becomes eternal: The tragic decision not to listen to God, or be corrected by Him, or obey Him; in the proud, we see a failure in God’s efforts to convert them.

The scary thing about Pride: It is also the most subtle sin. It seeps slowly into all of us, almost imperceptibly. By nature we want to feel powerful and superior, and so we snap up any opportunity to feel more this way.

But, God is the ally of His own. Those who ask Him for humility are not denied the gift–and protection of the gift. Sometimes God lovingly lays low those He loves to answer their plea to protect their humility, to protect them in His grace.

It is wise not to yield to the temptation to dream about feeling almighty, like the great entrepreneurs, the great barons of business, those seen by the world as the great achievers. Their belief in their greatness and their lasting-power is a mirage. Rather, we must be ready to accept continual course correction from Our Lord, and find our greatness in submitting to His glorious laws of love.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to grant you the precious gift that His mother possessed, seemingly effortlessly: Graceful humility, by which one is profoundly joyful and grateful because of the exaltation involved in being called to a loving relationship with Him. Ask Him to protect you from the sin of Pride, which tempts with its promise of autonomy, but in the end brings only denigration and emptiness.

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October 31, 2020October 13, 2020

Worthy is the Lamb

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

Blessed Carlo Acutis, the modern Catholic computer programmer with an especially deep devotion to the Eucharist, once said, “Sadness is looking at oneself, happiness is looking at God. Conversion is nothing but a movement of the eyes.”

A movement of the eyes. Jesus and St. Paul talk all about this in today’s readings. In the gospel, Jesus uses the circumstance he observes of people grabbing places of honor at a party to make this point. It is not wrong to wish to be honored. But we do not attain honor by exalting ourselves–rather, by taking the lowest place and working from there.

This is a huge irony that merits a moment’s consideration. On the one hand, Jesus actually encourages the quest for honor and greatness, by pointing out which approaches are effective in attaining it, and which are not. On the other hand, however, the means he points out for attaining greatness and honor is precisely NOT to appropriate it.

So, as we quest for true greatness and meaningful honor, how do we acquire the counterintuitive habit of looking to stay in the background? Blessed Carlo says it best. We do so by moving our eyes from ourselves–even though it is we ourselves who want to be happy–to the Person who actually makes us happy, Jesus Christ. If He is our joy, if our basis for personal security comes from Him and His love for us, we naturally want to see Him grow in our own and others’ estimation–our life becomes all about Him. And then, He takes care of the rest, including any need we have for honor and greatness. For one loving glance from Him confers more true greatness and honor than the adoring cheers of a crowd of thousands.

This is how St. Paul found His sense of personal greatness. On the one hand, in perfect line with today’s gospel, he considered himself the least of the apostles (1 Cor. 15:9). On the other hand, today we see that he is equally content with death or life, because “to me, life is Christ.” His eyes are on Christ, and so he has no complexes in his own regard. He doesn’t need to focus on building his own image.

When we fall in love with the divine greatness, the infinite mercy and tender providential care of Jesus, our own honor and greatness becomes a non-issue–a given. Because true greatness is neither a fruit of our own self-aggrandizing, nor even of our achievement. Like the theological virtues, it is a gift bestowed on us in the act of drawing near to Him who defines the stature of every created thing.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Take you eyes for a moment off your own sense of self-worth and achievement, and consider the worth of Jesus: “Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power and riches, wisdom and strength, honor and glory and blessing.” (Rev. 5:12). Consider Him glorified in Heaven for His divinity first of all, but also for His loving, merciful, sacrificial act of redemption. Then consider that, crazily, He respects you, even admires you as His Father’s great creation–even imperfect as you are. Consider that you need no other source of self-esteem. Adore Him for His greatness; thank Him for His love for you.

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October 14, 2020September 23, 2020

Not Rocket Science

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

Perfect morality is not the key to sanctity. When we focus on perfecting morality alone, we wind up turning everything into a moral judgement and centering on ourselves more than ever.

Basic morality is a prerequisite for sanctity. As Paul says in today’s reading, “The works of the flesh are obvious.” That is, the sins we are to avoid are not rocket science. It doesn’t take a lot of analysis or head-scratching to figure out which they are. Paul helps with a starter list, just in case.

Pride is the greatest enemy of sanctity. That said, we also don’t become saints solely or primarily by working on our humility.

We see Jesus correcting the Pharisees for their pride in today’s Gospel passage. But He doesn’t tell them to be more humble. He accuses them of lacking love for God. He also cites their lack of mercy and love of neighbor: “Woe also to you scholars of the law! You impose on people burdens hard to carry, but you yourselves do not lift one finger to touch them.”

It is, of course, critical for us to avoid sin–those sins, for example, that we mentioned in our last confession. We must avoid impure thoughts and images, drunkenness, and lazy idleness. We must avoid impatience, rudeness, and anger with others.

But the key to coming out of ourselves, falling in love with God, passion for the welfare of neighbor, lies not within ourselves. God is real. He is powerful. He acts in our lives, albeit often imperceptibly. His action is the key.

The key to sanctity is to fall in love with Him and with the welfare of His people by spending time with Him in prayer and in the sacraments. By letting Him transform our hearts into His.

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