No Snake is Given

Green Snake

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


It is lovely to have an intimate relationship with God. But what about when real, palpable danger looms? Does this loving, prayerful union transform into a bulwark of defense when you really need it?

How about when you are faced with an impossible decision, with no good outcome? Is He there for you to guide you to the impossible blessed result?

How about that loved one who is making bad decisions? Is He there to turn that person’s head around in response to your prayers?

The answer is “yes,” and this is one of the most breathtaking, dramatic aspects of the Christian life.

When you have a need, ask Him in fervent prayer–perhaps in adoration; ask His mother insistently but trustingly for help. And take comfort. For He is not expecting you to “do this for Him” alone. He is there to do it for you.

So we are assured by today’s gospel:

“Ask and it will be given to you;
seek and you will find;
knock and the door will be opened to you.
For everyone who asks, receives; and the one who seeks, finds;
and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.
Which one of you would hand his son a stone
when he asked for a loaf of bread,
or a snake when he asked for a fish?
If you then, who are wicked,
know how to give good gifts to your children,
how much more will your heavenly Father give good things
to those who ask him.”

Such was the experience of Esther in today’s first reading. She asked for deliverance, and she received it.

So too will be your experience, if you ask in trust. You will be able to say with today’s psalm: “Lord, on the day I called for help, you answered me.”

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Consider the worries and concerns that cause you most fear and anxiety–perhaps decisions that appear to have no good outcome, or bad situations involving loved ones that are out of your control. Beg Jesus to take control of those decisions and situations, and abandon them confidently into His hands. Tell Him you trust Him to bring them to a good conclusion, even if it seems impossible.

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Bread and Fishes

Bread

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


There is something startling about today’s psalm, in light of the first reading: “In every age, O Lord, you have been our refuge.”

At first glance, the first reading does not appear to paint a picture of God as refuge. Rather, we seem to find the root quintessence of the image some have of the Old Testament God as wrathful. With exclamations, God hands down the terrible consequences of the sin of Adam and Eve.

As usual with such assessments, though, this image some have of an angry God undervalues the gravity of sin–of thwarting the omnipotent God. Well might God simply have removed His thoughts from Adam and Eve, upon which they simply would have ceased to exist. Or, he could have imposed eternal damnation then and there.

Instead, the consequences He metes out are incredibly measured. He stands in the breach and reduces the impact of their sin to, effectively, a more difficult life, and one that is limited in span.

God is their refuge, even as He imposes just consequences. He Himself crafts leather garments for them. He accommodates and adapts to the new situation they have brought on for themselves through their disobedience–their shame at their nakedness.

And once salvation comes in Christ, His Providence pours out an overabundance of love. We see the full measure of what we receive in Christ prefigured in today’s gospel, in the multiplication of the loaves and fishes. He takes the good bestowed on us by nature, and in His love extends it limitlessly, without measure.

But in the end, “What eye has not seen, and ear has not heard, and what has not entered the human heart, what God has prepared for those who love him.” (Cf. 1 Cor. 2:9) We have literally no idea how blessed we will be in eternity for having chosen, unlike Adam and Eve, obedience to God and salvation in His Christ.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Obedience takes special grace from God, won by Christ through His obedience on the Cross. Ask Jesus, among all the charisms God gives, to give you the only one that really matters in the end: The charism of obedience. Ask Him for this gift above all others, even if it were to mean sacrificing all the rest.

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Bigger Than You Think

Iceberg

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


The day that Mary and Joseph left with the baby Jesus to fulfill the law requiring every first born male to be presented to the Lord at the Temple–that day probably did not feel very glorious or momentous to the couple.

We see in the Gospel how Mary and Joseph had already undertaken a fair bit of travel leading up to this time, with Mary’s visitation to Elizabeth in Judea, and the difficult trip to Bethlehem, where Jesus was born in an unfamiliar stable. And then there is the difficult flight into Egypt, to escape Herod’s persecution…

Here too, for their trip to present Jesus at the Temple, Mary and Joseph needed to plan, think ahead, and provision for this journey. They needed to make sure to prepare the pack animals and everything else they needed was ready for a uncomfortable trip exposed to the elements. There was a lot of unremarkable work to be done.

And they were not traveling in order to achieve some moment of glory. They were simply making the trip to fulfill the law.

Still, as so often is the case, the Old Testament reading from today reveals that there is indeed something glorious and profound at work here. The depth of meaning is nicely summed up in the line, “And suddenly there will come to the temple the LORD whom you seek.”

On Palm Sunday, we see Jesus’ triumphant entry into His city, the city that belongs rightly to Him as God, the Holy City, Jerusalem. Rightly enough, He comes honored, as a king.

But the Presentation is His first entry into Jerusalem. It is the first time the King of Glory visits the Holy City. Jerusalem, which has been pining for its promised Messiah for generations, finally receives Him. “And suddenly there will come to the temple the LORD whom you seek.”

If at Epiphany we see Jesus’ manifestation to the gentiles poignantly represented, here we have Jesus’ gift of Himself to the original Chosen People, as His parents obediently present Him at the very center of that people to God the Father.

Their Messiah has come. The day so longed for has arrived. And Simeon and Anna the Prophetess give Him a worthy reception.

God inserts solemn, unexpected meaning into the mundane lives of those who are obedient to Him. What deeper meaning might He be gifting to the most ordinary elements of your life, when you are obedient to Him and give Him your life day by day?

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Think of your day, today. Think of the most ordinary aspects of it. Ask Jesus how He works through those events in your life to bring about His grandiose plan of salvation. Give Him your life in trust and love all over again, and ask Him to fill it with profound effectiveness in the fulfillment of His great plan.

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Many Layers

Mille Foglie

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


The mystery of the priesthood is multi-layered and rich. We have the exalted, eternal reality that we hear about today: Christ, the High Priest, entering into the everlasting sanctuary, offering Himself eternally, once and for all, for the expiation of sins.

Then we have the reality that the priest offers at the altar each day, in imitation of the Last Supper, where the bread and the wine are truly transformed into the body, blood, soul, and divinity of the Savior. Once again, all the intensity of love for the welfare of His disciples is present, as it was at that first Mass. And that same reality re-presents the sacrifice of Calvary itself, where the High Priest performs the self-offering that becomes that definitive eternal offering for the forgiveness of sins.

We can think of the priestly act of Christ as a response to sin; we can think of Jesus, as it were, clawing His way back to a good place for humanity with His sacrifice, with great effort.

But it is well to remember that, while God never wills sin itself, the entire drama of Christ’s sacrifice was planned by God from eternity, before Adam ever took his first step in the garden, before the serpent came calling. For God was not content with the level of union Adam shared with Him in Eden. He desired a much more intimate union, one that would come from the full mutual gift of self. And this exalted union is what Christ achieved so neatly, BOTH from the human and the divine perspective, on the Cross, and re-constitutes continuously in eternity.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: In the midst of the evil surrounding us each day, tell Jesus that you trust in the divine plan; that even the evil that occurs winds up paradoxically as an ingredient so effective for the fulfillment of His plan, that it almost appears necessary. Just as Adam’s sin was the catalyst that led to our glorious Savior. Tell Him that you trust in Him, and lean confidently on Him.

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The Pledge

Forever

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


Life is overwhelming; if we take its responsibilities seriously, it is more than we can handle. But while remaining diligent, we need to take our responsibilities in stride. Because Jesus has pledged to take care of us, and this extends to our responsibilities as well.

Today’s first reading from the letter to the Hebrews points out what perhaps should be obvious: That God is always faithful to His oaths. He fulfills what He promises to do. He swore on Himself to provide descendants as numerous as the stars for Abraham, despite the apparent impossibility. Even though it didn’t seem to make sense, Abraham believed God, and patiently waited for the promise of the birth of his heir to be fulfilled.

But then, what has God promised to us? In the Gospel, Jesus promises us the care of the Father when He talks about how much more valuable to the Father we are than the exquisitely-attired lilies of the field, how we are much more valuable than many sparrows, how every hair on our heads is counted (cf. Mt. 6:25-34)… And He sealed this oath with His own blood.

So, God has promised, with the same solemnity of His promise to Abraham, to look after our every need. Sometimes we look at the world around us, at the apparently random tragedies and misfortunes that befall people, and we become scared. Perhaps we doubt God’s Providence, or perhaps we allow ourselves to think that God does not take care of some people because they have not earned His care with a good life.

This is a cruel lie. We do not earn His care. Rather, He wants to give it as a free gift; we either allow Him, or we do not. Many do not; they shut Him out of their lives. Now, the act of allowing Him to care for us is our obedient “yes” to Him. And, that is a “yes” given to Him in both our prayer and our life. But in the end, we earn nothing.

If we place our relationship with God as our top priority, the providential gift of His care will exceed all our desires and expectations–we can rely on it. It is not that difficulties, misfortunes, even tragedies will not befall us. Rather, these will come from the providential story He has written for our lives, fitting right in as key elements for bringing us to fuller happiness in Him.

As today’s psalm says, “The Lord will remember His covenant forever.”

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Talk to God about the ways you have not completely relied on His Providence in the midst of life’s ups and downs, but have been carried away by the fear of the moment. Ask Him to give you the only thing He asks from you: Trust, complete trust in His Providence.

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Call

Telephone

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


Today’s first reading, psalm, and gospel almost could not be more on theme with one another. The theme: God calls, and man follows.

For both Samuel in the first reading and the apostles in the gospel, the caller was unfamiliar to them. The first reading explicitly states that Samuel was unfamiliar with the Lord, and the first exposure to Jesus of the apostles-to-be in the gospel is John the Baptist pointing Him out to them.

This unfamiliarity puts in relief an important point: The call was gratuitous. None of the recipients of the call in these readings had done anything to deserve it. It simply came to them. And then, they had the sense to follow.

God Himself is the great Initiator throughout salvation history. Sometimes, he works through intermediaries, like Paul, the Apostle to the Gentiles. But in all cases, it is His grace that moves the human heart to resonate with the message, hear a concrete call, and say “yes.”

What can we do for this world, that is so distant from God, to draw persons nearer to Him? Firstly, by listening daily and following our own call from Him, we lend ourselves to Him as instruments, to use us in the manner that He chooses, giving Him permission for limitless creativity to use us as intermediaries. But also, we must ask God to call more souls more insistently, and unmistakably. He doesn’t speak softly to increase the odds of souls missing His call, but rather, out of respect for the soul’s freedom to choose. But with our prayers, we can ask Him to knock more compellingly at the doors of more souls, that they may hear and grant Him entry.

And He will answer our prayer.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Renew with all your heart your gift of self to Christ, and ask Him to help you hear His call each day. Also, tell Him that you lean on Him as THE protagonist of evangelization and conversion. Ask Him to act in the most compelling way in the heart of persons throughout our world.

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Songs of the Spirit

Benedictus

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


There are three monologues in the early Gospel of Luke, each of incredibly dense content with respect to the vast story arc of Salvation History, and each of breathtaking beauty, which became singularly prominent from early centuries in the Liturgy of the Hours. As such, each is known traditionally with two titles: First, in Latin, the first word(s) of the monologue, and second, as the “song” or “canticle” of the person pronouncing it.

Hence, we have the queen of them all–the Magnificat, or the Canticle of Mary pronounced upon her visit to her cousin Elizabeth, and the Nunc Dimittis, or the Song of Simeon, pronounced at the Presentation of the Lord in the Temple.

And then, we have today’s monologue: the Benedictus, or the Song of Zechariah, pronounced in an outpouring of the Holy Spirit at the circumcision of his son, John the Baptist.

As so often is the case, this incredible utterance ties back beautifully to the first reading chosen for the day.

With apparently no effort, Zechariah narrates as a seamless story the wonders God has worked for His People, and shows with great clarity how they all build to the climax of the coming of the Messiah, of whom Zechariah’s son is to be the prophet.

A particularly marked element in Zechariah’s story is the Messiah as the promised great Heir to the House of David. And in the first reading, we see the full development and context of that original promise.

That context is a correction of God to David, who thinks his job is to build something for God. God kindly but clearly corrects him through the prophet Nathan: God, in His omnipotent Providence, is actually the great Protagonist, the One In Charge, the One Who Builds. He doesn’t need a human to take care of Him. His great promise to David is contained within this correction.

The application of the lesson of this context, and the whole coherent Song of Zechariah, is of such palpable relevance to our own attitudes, that it almost produces goosebumps.

Does it make sense that God curated history and prepared for the Christmas event so carefully, and then after Jesus’ Ascension, left everything to chaos and randomness? Or is there a historical, providential story arc written by the very hand of God in the history of the Church following Pentecost as well?

And what about the story arc of our own lives? Random string of unrelated events? Or key brick in the building of salvation that God continues to construct?

As we look at eras in history, the closer we look to our own time, the more difficult it is to identify the story arc God is weaving as Lord of History–as He who makes all human history into Salvation History.

Which is why we should take a page out of Zechariah’s book, and draw very near to God in our relationship with Him, asking Him to fill us to overflowing with the Holy Spirit. Only then can we fulfill, like Zechariah, our particular prophetic role within God’s plan.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: On the eve of Christmas, ask God the Father, in giving you His Son this Christmas, to fill your heart with the Holy Spirit like never before, so that you can perceive throughout the story arc of your own life and your own time the unmistakable marks of God’s loving, governing, sovereign Providence.

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Judge Snivelpuss

Judge

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


You have to love Jesus’ judge in the Gospel parable. “Lest she finally come and strike me.” This guy is afraid of a little old widow coming and bludgeoning him. So, he helps her even when he doesn’t feel like it.

The image is even funnier when we see that Jesus is comparing this judge to Almighty, Omniscient, All-loving God. But the hyperbolic image is poignant precisely because of the chasm of contrast that separates the nature of this small-spirited judge and the grandiose magnanimity of our God.

We wouldn’t expect much of the judge in the parable. But if harried enough, we can expect even him to act. How much more, then, can we expect indulgence from our loving God if we come to Him insistently with our requests!

Jesus’ image points out how utterly absurd it is to fail to trust that God will fail to respond to our insistent, repeated requests. Yet how weak our trust is. We think of God as an arrogant, aloof judge who is too lofty and wise to spare time for our petty concerns, and is actually annoyed when we pester Him with them. And it is precisely this image of God at which Jesus takes aim in today’s parable–it is precisely this image that he successfully obliterates.

Mother Teresa’s work for the poor was an eloquent testimony of the goodness of God, of His concern for every human. It is not just to lawyers in suits that this good Judge will attend. He cares about the needs of every miserable creature Mother Teresa and her nuns have scraped off the streets, whether or not these poor persons knew to ask Him for help. And Mother Teresa’s nuns successfully channel His love to these souls.

Mother Teresa’s Sisters of Charity do not discriminate when they give aid on the basis of religion. Many of those receiving their aid are not Christian. But St. John’s letter today points out that it is also not wrong to give aid to Christians because they are Christian. There are two reasons to single out Christians and Christian causes for charity: 1) Faithful Christians in themselves become works of charity, inasmuch as their faithfulness in and of itself draws grace down from Heaven on others; and 2) Christian faith is radical and often rejected in the world, and as such Christians are particularly vulnerable. As Jesus Himself said, “And whoever gives only a cup of cold water to one of these little ones to drink because he is a disciple—amen, I say to you, he will surely not lose his reward.” (Mt. 10:42)

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: We are called to trust in God’s detailed attention to our needs, His response to our prayers, and His openness for us to pray insistently even for the same needs day after day. We are also called, as St. John reminds us in his letter today, to reflect that divine benevolence in our attention to others, and in particular to care for the needs of Christians.

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Dishonest Wealth

Gold Coins

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


It may seem scandalous, but for God, providing for our material needs is something of an afterthought. It’s not that He forgets to do it. Rather, it is simply a given–not the focus of His divine zeal.

We see in this sense how close Paul is to the mind and heart of God in our first reading today. He is excited that the Philippians have taken care to look after his material welfare. But it’s not because he was afraid of going without: “Not that I say this because of need.” He is equally happy in material poverty or abundance because he knows with absolute certainty that he receives all he needs from God: “I have the strength for everything through him who empowers me.”

Rather, he is excited because he is “eager for the profit that accrues to your account.” He knows that through their generosity, the Philippians are drawing nearer to Jesus, the Generous One.

When Jesus sums up material things in the Gospel passage as “dishonest wealth,” and tells us to make friends with it, he is essentially telling us the message that the Philippians are living out in the first reading: Material things have a new purpose with the advent of the New Testament, namely, to increase Love. Everything earthly is passing away and is, in this sense, “dishonest” in its promises of happiness. But through generosity, it can be used for true happiness, which comes from Love.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Examine with Jesus how you use your material gifts. Is your main focus your own comfort and advancement? Or is it Love? Ask Him how you can use the “dishonest” wealth of this world to increase the only wealth that is “honest” in the sense that it brings true, lasting happiness: Love.

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The Armor of God

Armor

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


Divine Providence, and God’s role as sovereign of human history, is a curious thing in its interplay with human freedom.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus laments Jerusalem’s rejection of Him, and the fact that it will become an abandoned place as a consequence. His lamentation is full of love–He laments, not an inability to rule over Jerusalem, but to “gather its children.”

But at the same time, He tells those worried for His safety in the outlying country not to be concerned, because the place of His death is destined to be the Holy City.

The very thing He is lamenting, He has accepted as the destiny preordained by God’s plan.

God’s plan takes into account foreseen human decisions for evil and so channels them for His purposes of salvation, that it almost appears that He Himself is their cause.

It is easier to see this in Jesus’ life than our own, both because of His own foreknowledge, and because of the insight of hindsight. But through faith, we know that the same dynamic is happening for us as long as we give our lives to Him. Nor is it a delicate dynamic, subject to shattering at any moment that we may display weakness; the dynamic of God channeling evil for good is backed by His strength, not ours. As St. Paul says, “We know that all things work for good for those who love God.” (Rm. 8:28)

Speaking of St. Paul, all we need to do to tap into this dynamic, as He says in the first reading, is put on the armor of God: Righteousness, faith, the Spirit. If we stay close to Him in prayer and the sacraments, our life will in fact become a breathless love story of salvation, union with God, and happiness.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Think of some things in your life that are troubling you. Ask Jesus how those fit into His plan for you, as His death in Jerusalem fit into the great plan of salvation. For those pieces that you don’t understand, ask Him to help you trust in His knowledge of where they fit and His guidance of you accordingly.

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