Tag: <span>Salvation</span>

January 9, 2021January 1, 2021

The Spectrum

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

John the Baptist bears witness to Jesus, not only as the Messiah of Israel, but also the one whose presence is the source of joy and happiness, He who is personal fulfillment–in fact, his own personal fulfillment. And He does it in today’s Gospel passage, in one of most beautiful testaments to Jesus in the entire Gospel: “The one who has the bride is the bridegroom; the best man, who stands and listens for him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom’s voice. So this joy of mine has been made complete. He must increase; I must decrease.”

For the Baptist, Jesus is not just the object of his special mission. He is the source of John’s personal joy.

John the Baptist is a beautiful example of what John the Evangelist speaks of in today’s first reading: “We know that anyone begotten by God does not sin; but the one begotten by God he protects, and the Evil One cannot touch him.”

The joy that John the Baptist derives from Jesus, and his focus on Him as his reason for being, makes it much more unlikely for the Baptist to offend God by breaking the Commandments than, for example, a mediocre Christian whose focus is on worldly self-gratification and whose attitude toward the Commandments is bare-minimum compliance.

In the first reading, John the Evangelist bears unequivocal evidence to the doctrine of two tiers of sin–those which are deadly, and which remove the life of God from the soul, and those which are still sin but are not deadly. For those we observe committing latter sort, John encourages us to pray, that God may infuse His life into them.

When John says he is not encouraging prayer for such an infusion for those we observe committing deadly sins, he is simply observing that God is being chased out of that person’s life and therefore–due to His respect for human freedom–He has no “foothold” from which to infuse an increase of His life within the soul. Now, John is not discouraging us from praying for the conversion of sinners who have committed grave sins and are spiritually dead. But when we pray for such persons, we are, as it were, begging God to knock (and knock hard) at the door of their hearts, and ask for admission–we are not asking to infuse life from the position of one already dwelling within their hearts.

When we read through today’s first reading and through today’s gospel, we observe a dramatic spectrum of souls in relationship to God: Everything from those who have ousted God from their lives, and who can only receive an infusion of His life again if they accept His solicitations of readmission, to souls like John the Baptist, who live habitually from Christ as a source of happiness, and could not imagine seeking happiness anywhere else.

Where lie we on this spectrum?

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to infuse you with His life; ask Him to make Himself more and more your sole focus in your quest for happiness. Ask Him to infuse His life likewise into your loved ones who are living the Christian life. And regarding those–your loved ones and others–who have effectively dismissed Him from their lives, beg Him with all the zeal of which you are capable to continue knocking at the door of their hearts, trusting that when He does so, His offering is always compelling in its attraction.

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January 8, 2021January 1, 2021

The Meaning of Life

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

St. John’s writing style, as exemplified in today’s first reading, displays an enchanting mix of great simplicity and poetic depth.

Take, for example, the reference to the water and the blood. Jesus has come through the water and the blood, and these bear witness to Him. This same John himself bore witness, in His gospel, to the water and the blood flowing from Jesus’ side, when it was opened with a lance after He died. In his gospel, John gave great importance to this, signaling it as the outpouring of His salvation to humankind.

But reflecting on today’s first reading, we may think that John is being a bit presumptuous when He points to God Himself as testifier on behalf of Jesus as His Son. When did John hear with His own ears God’s testimony? Sounds like he’s making an interpretative jump here…

But let us not forget. John did hear God the Father’s testimony, directly, audibly. He was one of the three disciples present at the Transfiguration, when a cloud overshadowed them and he heard a voice from the cloud say, “This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.” (Mk. 9:7)

He may or may not have been present at Jesus’ baptism, listening to John the Baptist’s preaching, when a voice came from the heavens and said, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.” It is speculated that he was, because he is thought likely to be the second, unnamed disciple of the Baptist mentioned in his own gospel who follows Jesus immediately afterward (cf. Jn. 1:35ff). Either way, he certainly knew of the event.

It is marvelous to think that this author of the first letter of John, written in such an unassuming yet profound style, actually heard the voice of God the Father testifying to His Son.

John tells us that he who possesses the Son possesses life. Here, in a way, the divide between earthly and eternal life blurs, just a little. Life for us is possession of the Son, here, as well as there. While we suffer here, and we will not there, this distinction starts to take second place as we begin, even here, to experience the joy of life in the Son.

The teachings of the Catholic Church about the possibility of salvation for those who do not know the Church, or indeed do not know Christ at all, seem to soften John’s statement. A recent embodiment of this teaching, from the Vatican II document Lumen Gentium: “Since salvation is offered to all, it must be made concretely available to all. But it is clear that today, as in the past, many people do not have an opportunity to come to know or accept the gospel revelation or to enter the Church. . . . For such people, salvation in Christ is accessible by virtue of a grace which, while having a mysterious relationship to the Church, does not make them formally part of the Church, but enlightens them in a way which is accommodated to their spiritual and material situation. This grace comes from Christ; it is the result of his sacrifice and is communicated by the Holy Spirit. It enables each person to attain salvation through his or her free cooperation.” (LG no. 16)

But this teaching, while it should cause rejoicing at God’s glorious mercy and desire for the salvation of every human, does not weaken John’s statement at all. There is, yes, the possibility for God, in His mercy, applying the infinite grace won by His Son on the cross, to grant the life of which John speaks, which is possession of the Son, at death to those who have lived a life striving unequivocally to understand the truth about God and to live by it, but have not known Christ.

But let us not be presumptuous of this mercy. The saints unanimously teach that, even among Christians, who are pampered by God with all the grace available through the sacraments and reflection on the Gospel to perfect their choice for Jesus, there are many who do not attain salvation due to the mediocrity of their choice for God. We must be deeply concerned for those in our secular world who, aware of the Gospel, reject a life in Christ casually and out of hand due to their unwillingness to conform their hearts and lives to a demanding ideal. And as for those who have never heard of Christ: If so many Christians, with the aid of so much grace, fail to hit the mark, how are those in practice without these aids and without clear doctrine to make the choice for the divine ideal? We must not presume on some extraordinary grace for these persons that exceeds the ordinary grace provided by the sacraments, Christian doctrine, and Scripture.

So, we must preach the Gospel.

All of this is very dramatic. But let us also remember, to anyone who approaches Jesus, even tentatively, He rushes with His divine aid to firm up their hearts, their resolve, their intent. Aside from the dialogue with the repentant thief on the cross, perhaps the most moving example of this is found right in today’s Gospel passage, in the exchange with the leper: “‘Lord, if you wish, you can make me clean.’ Jesus stretched out his hand, touched him, and said, ‘I do will it. Be made clean.'”

If He wills it, Jesus can purify our hearts. And He does will it.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: We cannot escape from a dramatic but beautiful reality, namely, that Jesus calls us to a radical transformation through the adoption of a new mode of life, that can only be found in Him, in the Son–but that this transformation leads to unimaginable happiness. As St. John points out in his first letter, God the Father Himself bears succinct but unambiguous testimony to this. Let us approach Jesus today like the leper, and ask Him to cleanse our hearts, to purify them so that He can fully infuse them with His life. And let us pray with all the passion of our hearts for those who do not know Him.

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January 4, 2021December 29, 2020

The Fount of All Grace

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

In today’s reading from the first letter of John, we learn a fundamental criterion for discernment between spirits that are of God vs. those that are not: The acknowledgement of Jesus Christ come in the flesh.

This reminds us of a similar reading from the same author, the Gospel reading from Christmas day: “He came to what was his own, but his own people did not accept him. But to those who did accept him he gave power to become children of God, to those who believe in his name, who were born not by natural generation nor by human choice nor by a man’s decision but of God.” (Jn. 1:11-13)

Also, in the eleventh chapter of the Gospel of John, Jesus Himself says, “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” (Jn. 11:25-26)

From these passages we may infer a clear truth: That faith in Jesus Christ, the Son of God, God Himself who has taken on flesh, is the criterion for salvation.

This may sound like a Protestant concept. It is not. It is a Scriptural concept, a Christian concept, and a true concept.

Indeed, within the Church, individuals and groups of people have fallen into the error of overemphasizing the moral aspects of the Christian life to the point essentially of believing that salvation comes from following certain rules. Saints, then, are those who follow these rules to a more perfect degree.

Whereas in truth, the perennial teaching of the Church is that Jesus alone saves; nothing that we do contributes substantially to our salvation, except to accept: To say “yes” to this merciful Savior.

True, as St. James tells us, “So also faith of itself, if it does not have works, is dead.” Faith without works is dead. This does not mean, however, that a half-and-half formula of faith and works is the necessary recipe for salvation. Rather, as St. James goes onto explain, faith in Jesus is made manifest in our works. If it is not, then we do not have a living faith, but a dead and sterile one.

Said differently, part of the way we say “yes” to Jesus and His utterly sufficient and necessary saving grace is by saying “yes” over and over to His way in the little things of every day life. Indeed, he who sins says “no” and by his very act of sin rejects that grace. “Yes” is not a word; it is a lifestyle, a life.

So it is that Jesus Himself tells us, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven.” (Mt. 7:21)

This is the formula that Jesus applies, not only to our happiness, but to His own as well; He shows us the way: “The one who sent me is with me. He has not left me alone, because I always do what is pleasing to him.” (Jn. 8:29)

Still, it would be a mistake to think of our lives as a set of individual, disjointed events, where in each event we start over and have an equal chance of saying “yes” or “no” to God. If we have a daily, Scriptural, contemplative prayer life, then in our prayer, we say “yes” to Him with all our hearts and give ourselves to Him. He, in turn, inflames our hearts with love for Him and a desire for union with Him. (Sometimes we sense this love and feel the burning flame; sometimes we do not. But regardless, if we pray, He is there to deepen and strengthen our desire.) It is this flame, this desire, that then manifests itself throughout each day in our many small “yeses.”

Thus, the life of the Christian in grace simply becomes a love story; of God constantly offering His infinite grace to us, of us saying “yes,” and of Him pouring out His grace of strength and love into our hearts to aid us in our constancy and fidelity.

To the Christian life, the same words may be applied as those applied to Zebulun and Naphtali in today’s Gospel passage: “Land of Zebulun and land of Naphtali, the way to the sea, beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles, the people who sit in darkness have seen a great light, on those dwelling in a land overshadowed by death light has arisen.”

Jesus Christ is that light; He is all we need.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Tell Jesus that you want to remain in His grace today and forever; tell Him that, whatever the sacrifices implied, your answer to Him is “yes.” Tell Him that you want the manifestation of that “yes” to be molded by His Holy Spirit in your life, not by your pride. Ask Him never to let you be parted from Him, no matter what the cost.

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January 2, 2021December 28, 2020

Opening Doors

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

As we approach the celebration of the Epiphany, which in addition to the arrival of the Magi, also commemorates the revelation of the Incarnate Word to all nations, we see in our readings references to that revelation–and also, even its earliest manifestations, resistance to it on the part of the world. As we heard in the Gospel at Christmas Midnight Mass, “He came to what was his own, but his own people did not accept him.”

Even before Jesus Christ was on their radar, the Pharisees were already questioning and doubting His great herald, John the Baptist, as we see in today’s gospel.

And in today’s first reading from the First Letter of John, we hear the apostle speak of those who reject Christ, and He admonishes them: “Who is the liar? Whoever denies that Jesus is the Christ. Whoever denies the Father and the Son, this is the antichrist. Anyone who denies the Son does not have the Father.”

Many of the people we deal with day to day are pleasant and friendly, and our superficial dealings with them are agreeable and uneventful. So, sometimes we forget that this drama is the one that plays out in every human heart: Jesus Christ reveals Himself, sometimes clearly, sometimes in a manner that is blurred by human sin, and each person decides to accept or reject Him. And many, even many persons we might consider otherwise pleasant, choose to reject Him. To the extent that this choice becomes permanent, they reject their eternal happiness. For, “Anyone who denies the Son does not have the Father.”

Thankfully, in the midst of this often tragic dichotomy wherein Jesus comes “to what is His own, but His own people do not accept Him,” we have a role to play, to help make things better.

When we sincerely and consistently offer ourselves to Jesus every day in our time of prayer and through the fulfillment of our daily duty, and ask Him to leverage that offering for the welfare of those who do not know Him or reject Him, it gives Him “license” to push into hearts a little harder without transgressing human freedom. The gift of our freedom to Him opens doors to hearts whose freedom alone may be too weak to open those doors. Thus, we are cooperators in salvation, and every day of our lives has profound meaning.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Consider with Jesus the example of Mary, whose gift of self at the Annunciation, at the Cross, and every day in between augmented the reach of His infinite merits by standing in for weak human freedom. Ask Jesus to make you “part of Mary’s team” in assisting Him, through your gift of self each day.

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December 31, 2020December 24, 2020

Planning for Rejection

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

Today’s gospel could provide the basis for infinite meditation, because it eloquently lays out the entire context of the Incarnation of God, including His reception within the world. Little need be said; savoring this passage, line by line, is sufficient reflection in itself.

There is pathos contained in these lines. “He was in the world, and the world came to be through him, but the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, but his own people did not accept him.”

The Word of God, prior to taking flesh, knew full well that He was coming into a world that would reject Him. A world that would be full, to borrow from today’s first reading, of antichrists that shun the invitation of Jesus.

The attitude of the world in its rejection of Christ can scandalize us and make us feel lonely, maybe even occasionally test our faith. But it need not shock us. Christ knew that this would be the attitude that would fill the world at His coming.

And He came anyway.

The next line in the Gospel passage tells us why: “But to those who did accept him he gave power to become children of God.” The Word of God took on flesh with a tragic desire to save every single person, since there is not a single person created with the God-given destiny of damnation. But He also knew, long before the Annunciation, that only a relatively few would accept His invitation to the transformed, exalted life that brings with it eternal happiness.

And He came anyway.

In the end, because He knew ahead of time the number of the “chosen,” of those who would accept His invitation, it is these in particular for whom He has come. All of the rest of the drama of rejection was worth it to Him as He contemplated saving, redeeming, transforming, and exalting you and me.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Thank Jesus over and over for taking flesh, in spite of the foreseen enormous push-back of the world. Thank Him for contemplating rejection from the vantage point of eternity, and for embracing that rejection for you.

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December 28, 2020December 23, 2020

Saving Tragedy

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

Herod’s blanket murder of all the little children in Bethlehem in the hope of catching the anointed Messiah in this grotesquely broad net is repulsive to the point of revulsion.

Yet, hard as it may be to comprehend, the theme of today’s Mass–the Holy Innocents killed in Herod’s hunt for Christ–is not a Mass of mourning, but of celebration.

For the context of this celebration, the gravity of Original Sin and its implications must be underscored. In the mysterious economy of sin and salvation, when Adam and Eve knowingly and with determination disobeyed God, they made a definitive choice for all of their progeny–for us–the choice to reject God. The consequences of this choice are inherited by all in our race, and every child of Adam born into the world is born into a state of de facto rejection of God. Only baptism, by which the grace of the Savior Jesus Christ is immediately and effectively applied, suffices to replace the inherited state of rebellion with a state of purity and friendship with God as restored through Jesus’ saving act.

So, every unbaptized infant–including those we celebrate today–is born into a state of inherited rebellion against God.

And the children described in today’s Gospel passage were violently slain while within that state. So, what is there to celebrate?

The Church has declared that, while sacramental baptism is necessary for salvation, and even though Jesus’ saving act was not complete, God–who dwells outside of time, and who can traverse time in any direction at His pleasure–applied the future saving act of His Son as a special gift to these children, who in effect died in His stead. Yes, in the stead of Him who ultimately would die in the stead of all of us, of every human, to take on our punishment for sin. One may imagine that God the Father could not help but see a reflection of His Son’s own vicarious death in the vicarious death of these infants.

The Church has declared that every one of those children slain in the hunt for Christ is enjoying the beatific vision of God in Heaven.

This is cause to celebrate.

It begs the question: What about all other children, who die before or after birth without baptism? These certainly are not slain in an explicit pursuit of the death of Christ. What is their fate? By the logic of the doctrine of original sin and its gravity, they should go to Hell. However–although we understand that Hell is a reality for many, indeed, for all who turn down the invitations of God to the transformative work of His Son’s salvation–it is repulsive to think that this cold logic condemns forever to Hell children who never had the chance to choose.

Furthermore, the Church teaches that upon creating him or her, God intends the destiny of salvation for each human person in light of His Son’s saving act. Only the misuse of human freedom keeps people from reaching that destiny. This doctrine, too, makes it hard to imagine the condemnation of unbaptized infants to Hell.

In humility, the Church to date recognizes that this whole question remains a mystery and is difficult to fit into the human mind, given the different realities at play–but that there are reasons to hope that there may be a path to salvation for such children that is not fully revealed.

This too is a great reason for celebration on this feast of the Holy Innocents. In declaring this hope, the Church points explicitly to this day–showing how God found a path for these particular children without sacramental baptism. While we must baptize our children with all diligence, there is reason to hope in the hidden paths of the mercy of God relative to the destiny of unbaptized infants. (Cf. “The Hope of Salvation for Infants who Die Without Being Baptized,” January 19, 2007)

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Each of us experiences the frustrating reality of sin in our lives. Sometimes we wonder how we can ever be saved. Arguably, his inability to cope with this dilemma ultimately contributed to Martin Luther’s separation from the Church. But “where sin increased, grace overflowed all the more.” (Rm 5:20) With all the clarity that Church doctrine provides on sin and salvation–including the sobering reality of Hell–there remain great areas of mystery which, ultimately, are areas where God’s power and mercy reign supreme. When faced with the discouraging reality of sin and its consequences, it is never an error to lean hard and trustingly on confidence in God’s mercy for our destiny, as long as we strive to choose Him with all our hearts every day.

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December 23, 2020December 21, 2020

He Shall Purify

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

We know that Scripture is divinely inspired and believe that the Holy Spirit Himself guided the pen of those special individuals who authored what would come to be collected into Jewish Sacred Scripture and then the New Testament, forming the Bible.

The same level of prominence and guarantee of direct divine intervention is not spoken of in relation to the organization of Scriptures in our Catholic liturgy–but there is no doubt that we can see the same hand at work guiding this effort of organization. On so many days, the profound fulfillment of the Old Testament readings chosen in the Gospel passage is beautiful and multi-layered.

On many occasions, the Old Testament prophecies serve to add spiritual and emotional depth of understanding to the events historically laid out relatively plainly in the New Testament.

Today’s first reading is nearly unparalleled in this regard, except perhaps when one considers prophecies such as that of the suffering servant in Isaiah read on Good Friday (cf. Is. 53).

And the stunning element of today’s organization of Scriptures is not necessarily just that the Old Testament reading foreshadows or clarifies today’s Gospel passage, but that the two work together–in different ways–to foreshadow and shed brilliant, vividly colorful light on the event that we will celebrate imminently at Christmas.

There are two concepts in particular that leap off the page in the first reading. First, the word “Suddenly.” “Suddenly there will come to the temple the LORD whom you seek.” The word “Suddenly” implies something unexpected, in a sense unprepared-for.

And indeed, what did man do to prepare the coming of God in the flesh, or to bring about this mad miracle of God’s love? Absolutely nothing. Until the Annunciation of the angel Gabriel to Mary, there is no evidence that any human on the planet ever dared conceive of such a radical form of divine action–even though that action was foreshadowed in the divinely inspired Old Testament Scriptures.

The miracle of the Incarnation of God in human flesh–this wonderful, unexpected initiative of God in response to our black, ugly, and hopeless rejection of Him in sin–is subject of endless fruitful contemplation and meditation. If He will take this level of creative initiative relative to the whole of the human race, what initiative will He not take in your life, if you sincerely and repeatedly invite Him in!

The second concept that leaps from today’s page is the tidy summation of the entire story arc and intent of the Incarnate Savior’s mission.

“And he will purify the sons of Levi, refining them like gold or like silver that they may offer due sacrifice to the LORD. Then the sacrifice of Judah and Jerusalem will please the LORD, as in the days of old, as in years gone by.”

There is not a single human being whom God creates whom He does not intend for eternal salvation, by the power of His Son’s sacrifice. But He also knows full well the many who will reject that gift and fall short of salvation. In the end, the final objective of His incarnate act is the “Sons of Levi”–those who willingly offer themselves to Him.

Now, one may think of the “Sons of Levi”–Levites being the priests of the Old Testament–as an image the continuum of the ministerial priesthood between the Old and New Testaments, but that is not the meaning considered in this reflection. This reflection, rather, considers this term as a metaphor for the continuum of the entire People of God between Old and New Testaments, in their common sharing of the priestly mission, the so-called common priesthood of the faithful. By that common priesthood, the entire people of God participates in the offering of sacrifice to God.

From the moment after the fall of Adam and Eve, with the sacrifices of Cain and Abel, the People of God have been making sacrifices to God representing their desire to give their very selves back to Him, recognizing that this effort involves atonement for the grave error of sin, both of the individual and of our race.

But these sacrifices are mere symbols with no effect, until Jesus comes and makes the gift of the human self back to God, with its element of atonement, actually real, possible and effective.

He does this first of all by offering Himself as THE pleasing sacrifice, single-handedly winning for us the re-opening of the door to Heaven.

But the reading points to another element of the glorious power of this act. In His redemptive act, begun with His Incarnation, the Word made flesh actually purifies the sons of Levi–that THEY may offer unto the Lord due sacrifice. Or as an ancient Catholic translation puts it, an offering in justice; or as Handel’s Messiah puts it, an offering in righteousness.

This purification of each of us is necessary, not just to offer as a race our great Sacrifice, which is Christ Himself, but also to offer in a finite way, seconding that sacrifice, our very selves. In His redemptive act, Jesus purifies us to be a truly and actually righteous part of His acceptable gift, which is elevated through His merit to a dignity that we cannot even fathom while in our earthly lives.

THIS is the great story arc of Jesus’ Incarnation, and it is worthy of a whole season’s meditation.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus: Come, Lord, come this Christmas and purify me! Set the trajectory for my life that You choose–one that, even if it incorporates some suffering, will fully purify my gift of self to You to be an offering in righteousness. I open the door of my heart completely to You, the great Refiner, with your fire of purification, and I do so without fear. Come, Lord Jesus!

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December 13, 2020November 29, 2020

Remember the Darkness

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

Advent readings like today’s first reading go well with our external preparations for Christmas–with trimming hearth and tree, and baking Christmas cookies. There is such a warm beauty to them: “I rejoice heartily in the LORD, in my God is the joy of my soul; for he has clothed me with a robe of salvation and wrapped me in a mantle of justice, like a bridegroom adorned with a diadem, like a bride bedecked with her jewels.”

“He has sent me to bring glad tidings to the poor, to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and release to the prisoners, to announce a year of favor from the LORD and a day of vindication by our God.”

These are the sorts of readings that get us excited again about receiving the gift of saving and sanctifying grace with the Incarnation of the Word of God at Christmas–when God breaks into our dark lives like the dawn.

Think, though, what it would be like live before Jesus’ birth, when the world was shrouded in sin and there was no option for salvation. The world had rejected God definitively, and all there was to do was to repent and try to offend him less. He still merited a life of dedication, for He was the good God, our Creator; but the door to eternal life stood shut, due to our own definitive option for sin.

From this perspective, think of how much more still these words from the first reading hold hope and beauty. We know not how it will happen, but from the prophets we know that God has a plan to burst back into our lives and rescue us…

Today, we already enjoy the ability to choose the grace of God, won for us through the Nativity and the events that followed, and we can take it for granted. It will do us well to meditate on how that was not always the case–to place our hearts in the position of those who originally hoped in a mysterious and glorious intervention of God into history.

And then, to consider that even though we live in the years after Christ’s first coming, there is no reason that we cannot hope–and ask Him–for a renewal of grace in us this Christmas so revolutionary for our sanctification, that it is almost as if we never knew Him before, by comparison.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Imagine the times before the coming of Jesus–knowing that God would do something to rescue humanity, but not knowing what. Now, think of how we likewise hope for eternal life, and Jesus’ Second Coming, even though we don’t know just what these will be like. Ask Jesus this Advent to give you the priceless gift of joy-filled, even excited, hope in Him.

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December 10, 2020November 24, 2020

Taken by Violence

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

“The Kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent are taking it by force.”

The interpretations of this saying of Jesus are many and varied.

One attributed to St. Jerome, original translator of the Bible into Latin, refers to the mortification of our own passions and inclinations. This mortification is “violent” to our fallen nature, and it is necessary for entering the Kingdom of Heaven.

Jesus is drawing a distinction between the time of the prophets, and the time from John the Baptist until His present, that is, the Messianic time.

It would seem safe to say that the difference between these two eras was not that there was more violence in one than in the other. The difference was that the violence in Jesus’ time was retaking the Kingdom of Heaven.

We would love if it were otherwise, but the reopening–the retaking–of the Kingdom of Heaven did and does involve violence. To reopen the door to Heaven shut by original sin, as St. Jerome’s interpretation indirectly indicates, Jesus had and has to do violence to the evil tendencies brought to us by original sin. But also, Jesus Himself had to suffer violence to save us–“The Kingdom of Heaven suffers violence.”

Without attempting to put fine a point on the interpretation of this passage, let us meditate on the fact that our time in salvation history involves turbulence and even violence associated with the the encounter of the Holy One, in history and in our own lives, with the evil force of original sin. And let’s get ready for constant battle.

But, the prize is worth it, as the first reading tells us. “I will open up rivers on the bare heights, and fountains in the broad valleys; I will turn the desert into a marshland, and the dry ground into springs of water.”

When we let Jesus and His Holy Spirit into our lives, this is not an entirely peaceful event. “I have come to bring, not peace, but a sword.” (cf. Mt. 10:34) But the fulfillment He brings if we welcome Him and the battle He brings into our hearts is no less than the effect of life-giving irrigation on earth parched and exhausted by sin.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Tell Jesus you understand that the transformation He brings will not be easy–but that you trust Him to give you the strength to bear it, and that you want Him and all He brings, even if that includes pain and conflict. Your trust is the greatest consolation any creature can bring Him.

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December 8, 2020November 21, 2020

The Power of the Immaculate

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

The choice of the first reading for a day like today is something of a snub to evil: The entire first reading describes that which Mary completely avoided at the Immaculate Conception, like a halfback who makes a run free and clear around a defensive end entirely faked out by a reverse play.

Free and clear. By the retroactive action of the redemptive act of her Son, Mary never tasted the downward pull of the sinful inclinations the rest of us experience due to the taint of original sin.

There is something awesome that flows directly from the Immaculate Conception, and likewise flows from her constant (albeit simple) “yes” as described in today’s gospel.

That thing is her power. The thoroughness of the gift of her freedom to God throughout her life is a gift that makes up for a great deal of bad choices and weak freedom in many others. The gift of her freedom, the unmitigated “yes” of a free creature, stands in and gives God “permission” to invade humanity with His grace–first, literally embodied in the Son she bore, but then also in the form of invasions of grace throughout history, some of which we glimpse through her own appearances at various moments. Christ did not come to overturn our free will, which Adam and Eve used definitively to reject God on behalf of all humanity. Rather, He came to open the door to allow each of us to choose for ourselves. He allows for us to choose salvation.

Typically, however, He refrains from nudging or pushing us through that door. But it is the free gift of self of creatures like Our Lady, and those who seek to emulate her in this, her “team” as it were, together with intercessory prayer, that permits Him within His own scheme of justice to give those nudges, to give those pushes.

Thus, Mary is not merely the model for Christians of virtue. She is the Christian hero par excellence, who very literally and concretely furthers Jesus’ work of salvation.

And there is absolutely no reason why, today, we cannot attain a full sharing of her power in amplifying the effect of Jesus’ infinite saving grace, by giving ourselves to God in absolute trust, as she did.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Recall how in the Old Testament, Elisha was bold enough to ask for a double portion of the spirit of Elijah–the greatest prophet who had ever lived. Be bold. Ask Christ to shape you to be like His mother. Ask Him to bring you to wield the very same power for good, through gift of self, that she wields.

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