Mark 10:45

Category: Catholic

  • Promises, Promises

    Promises, Promises

    Saturday of the 28th Week in Ordinary Time

    Romans 4:13, 16-18; Luke 12:8-12

    Luke’s gospel appears to have been written to a gentile, Greek-speaking audience. Such people would quickly notice the difference between the Greek and Roman gods and the one true God. The gods were irrational, unfair, and inconsistent; God is the epitome of reason, justice, and consistency. The gods were fickle; God keeps His promises.

    That doesn’t mean His promises follow our timeline; they don’t. As Scripture makes clear, the promises made to Abraham – namely, that he would be the father of a nation, his name would be great, and all the nations of the world would find blessing in him – are kept, but in God’s time, not ours. It was up to Abraham to use the gift of faith he was given, which he did, and up to God to keep His promises, which He did.

    St. Paul also mentions an important side benefit to the gift of faith: hope. He describes Abraham as hoping against hope that he would become the father of many nations (Romans 4:18). He later brings in the Spirit, saying, May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit (Romans 15:13). We know hope as the God-given virtue by which we “desire the kingdom of heaven and eternal life as our happiness, placing our trust in Christ’s promises and relying not on our own strength, but on the help of the grace of the Holy Spirit” (CCC §1817). Thus, we aren’t so different from Abraham; it’s up to us to use the gifts of faith and hope, and up to God to send the Holy Spirit to help us.

    That brings us to today’s gospel, where Christ makes three promises, all related to the Holy Spirit.

    First, he promises that those who live the faith by acknowledging him publicly will themselves be acknowledged in heaven. Of course, we can’t do that without the help of the Holy Spirit. Most importantly, it is only in the Spirit that we can say Jesus is Lord (1 Corinthians 12:3). Also, we need his gifts: the courage to step outside our comfort zone, the patience to practice the virtues we find hard to live, and the authenticity to live the faith because it’s who we are, not just what we teach.

    Second, he promises forgiveness in the context of accepting the role of the Holy Spirit. How consoling it must have been to St. Peter after the Passion to recall our Lord saying that those who speak a word against him will be forgiven! And we, so like St. Peter; how we love to hear those words in Confession, “God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son, has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins.” It’s like a sixteen-ton weight has been lifted from our shoulders!

    Finally, he promises the Holy Spirit will be with us in times of trouble. Unlike some to whom Christ was speaking, we won’t be haled before synagogues, rulers, or authorities on account of Christ; nevertheless, we will be challenged for our faith. Dealing with this requires the Spirit’s gift of prudence. Too often, especially over the coming holidays, people who should be closer together are driven further apart by strong and differing points of view. In all such situations, we must ask the Spirit to help us find the words and actions that make our point without wounding those who disagree with us.

    Everything Jesus promised today – the reward of eternal life for all who live the faith, the forgiveness of sins for all who accept it, and the counsel of the Holy Spirit – are given out of his infinite, merciful love. So, let us resolve to hear his word and keep it, for those who do so are those who love him, and, as he said, whoever loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and reveal myself to him (John 14:21).

    That is a promise. And God always keeps His promises.

  • Being Mrs. McMahon

    Being Mrs. McMahon

    The 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time

    Isaiah 25:6-10a; Philippians 4:12-14, 19-20; Matthew 22:1-14

    When my brother asked me to be his daughter’s Godfather, I was delighted. I flew to New York planning to spend the weekend at his home, enjoy the baptism, the baby, the party, and catching up with relatives I hadn’t seen in years. Unfortunately, we flew through a lot of turbulence; by the time we landed, I felt terrible. I got to his house, found a bed, and laid down for a while to recover.

    When I woke up, no one was home except a woman working on the front lawn – my sister-in-law’s mother, Mrs. McMahon. She looked up, smiled, and asked, “Feeling better?” I said I was. “Good,” she replied, “Pick up that sack of dirt and follow me.” Next thing I knew, we were both working on the front lawn. When we finished, I hoped that was it, but she said, “Now, on to the back yard.” Ugh. An hour later, she said, “Let’s go in now.” I was so relieved – until I got in. I should’ve known; there were folding tables to put up, tablecloths to lay, places to set, dishes to do, a dinner to start, and floors to vacuum. When my brother came home, he said, “You didn’t have to do all this!” I said, “Yes, I did! Have you ever met your mother-in-law? Is she always like this?”

    I admit that at the time I was feeling very put upon. I went there expecting to sit around, take it easy, and enjoy myself. Instead, I felt like I was the host and my brother and his family were the guests. However, the next day, when I saw them relaxed and enjoying themselves, I had a change of heart; I felt bad that it hadn’t occurred to me to do what Mrs. McMahon did: Look around, see how I might be able to help, and get busy.

    That reminded me about the first of the two surprises in today’s parable. As you know, parables are designed to make us think by adding plot twists we don’t expect. The first twist was the reaction of the guests who were re-invited to a banquet they had already refused. We expect them to be annoyed, but to kill the servants? What’s that all about?

    Well, it’s a parable, so the killing symbolizes something; in this case, how we sometimes kill the urge to be selfless. As Bishop Sheen once reminded us, God tempts us far more often than Satan does. Think of all the times in a day we are “tempted” to put other people first, think about them, do something nice for them. These are moments of actual grace; invitations from God to unite our will to His by seeking the good of others. Now, consider what putting our own will first does, like I did: it smothers those impulses.

    Most of us try to do both, to look out for others and for ourselves. That’s not a problem. The problem comes when we get comfortable and refuse to be challenged. Maybe we’ve been invited to help at the parish, go to a pro-life chain, work at a food pantry, or any of a number of things. Sometimes we really can’t do it; other times we can, but it’s very tempting to turn that invitation down in favor of what we want. We like doing our own will, and it may content us for a while, but in the end we’re not happy. Happiness only comes when we take advantage of the actual graces God makes available – like when He gave me the example of Mrs. McMahon to show me, against my will, that happiness involves a lot more than just “showing up.”

    And that reminds me of the second twist in the parable: The wedding garment. Why is the man without one punished so severely when he had no idea he was going to need it? Scholars tell us that, in those days, if a man showed up without a proper garment, the host would offer him one from his own stock. That’s not unheard of today. Some high-end restaurants require a tie and suit coat; they offer them to men who come in without them, and will escort them out if they refuse. So in the parable: A garment was available, the man refused to wear it, and as a result was “escorted out” in no uncertain terms.

    But again, the question is, what does the garment symbolize? As I see it, it is a sign that we have “put on Christ,” in the words of St. Paul (Romans 13:14), or, in modern terms, that we are “walking the talk.” I went to New York to be a Godparent – someone who had put on Christ, was living the faith. But was I? Not so much. I went to Mass every week, sang in the choir, even donated money, but in my heart, I knew that I was living every other hour of the week as if I’d never heard of Christ. On the other hand, there was Mrs. McMahon; she, too, had traveled a long way, and was twice my age. Yet she almost never sat down, either the day before or the day of the baptism; instead, she served, saw to other peoples’ needs. And she was happy doing it. Her daughter told me that her mom was just that way; wherever she went, she saw the need and tried to fill it. Of the two of us, she was the one who had put on Christ, who lived her faith for the world to see.

    So, what does this mean for us? That we’re all supposed to be another Mrs. McMahon? Yes and no. Yes, in the sense that we, too, are called to show Christ to the world. How? As St. Paul said, by knowing how to live in humble circumstances or abundance, well-fed or hungry, in plenty or in need, because the source of our happiness is none of those things, it is Christ alone. From him comes the strength we need not only to endure, but to prosper. And no, in the sense that God already has one Mrs. McMahon; he doesn’t need any more. What he needs is us, with the gifts he has given us. Every day, he invites us in countless ways to become the people he created us to be. Is it hard? Yes. Do we sometimes want to turn the invitation down, go in and relax? Sure. But again, take heart, and remember: We have the strength of Christ on our side. In him, we can do all things.

    I can almost hear him saying, “Feeling better? Good. Pick up that cross and follow me.”

  • Beyond Words

    Beyond Words

    Memorial of Our Lady of the Rosary

    Acts 1:12-14; Luke 1:26-38

    There are moments in our lives, times of such emotional power, that, as we reflect on them, go beyond our ability to describe. They are the best times – weddings, births, special occasions with family and friends, spiritual consolations – and the worst – deaths, periods of emotional or physical suffering, of desolation. However good or bad, we can picture them, vividly remember them, but, no matter how hard we try, we cannot describe our feelings about them. They go beyond words.

    But they aren’t beyond God. It is an article of our faith that God is perfectly above all things and, at the same time, perfectly within them. That includes us; every moment of our lives, from the most precious to the most mundane, and all the feelings wrapped up in them, are perfectly known to God. Even if full understanding of the events of our lives eludes us, we can do what the Blessed Mother did: reflect on them in our hearts, that in our contemplation, God may more deeply reveal Himself to us, and help us see how He works through the mysteries of life.

    One way our faith gives us to do that is through repetitive prayer. There is something about its rhythm and regularity that, like breathing, comes naturally to us. Repetition is a prayer form as ancient as Judaism; the Lord Jesus himself repeated the Shema (Deuteronomy 6:4) every day, morning and evening. We see it in his Church, too. We may know them as “aspirations” – short prayers that have developed over the centuries. Some spring from inspiration, such as, “Let go and let God,” or “Lord Jesus, I trust in You,” others from Scripture, such as, My Lord and my God (John 20:28), or Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief (Mark 9:24). One of our most popular repetitive prayers, the Hail Mary, combines these. The first half is Scriptural, quoting the angelic salutation from Luke that we heard today, as well as part of Elizabeth’s greeting, while the second is an intercessory prayer, asking Mary, as Mother of God, to pray for us now and at the hour of our death.

    While it would take too long to trace its development, suffice it to say that, in the words of Pope St. John Paul II, the rosary is centered on Christ but distinctly Marian in character. We see this throughout its mysteries; there are the more familiar, such as The Annunciation and Visitation, but also the more obscure, such as The Appearance of Christ to Mary after the Resurrection and Mary Meets Jesus Carrying the Cross, both of which are prayed by some Franciscans to this day.1

    Regardless the mystery, the rosary does two things the Blessed Mother wants most. First, it points us to her Son. Every decade of every mystery, whether joyful, sorrowful, glorious, or luminous, is an invitation to contemplate more deeply the mystery of Christ; not only how he works in these events, but how he works in our own lives. Second, as a sacramental (a visible sign instituted by the Church to give grace), the rosary leads us, if we are ready to receive it, to sanctifying grace. In both ways, the rosary is the road that, with each passing bead, helps us to love Christ as his Mother has always loved him: Far, far beyond words.

    Our Lady of the Rosary, pray for us.

    1https://franciscanmissionaries.com/7-decade-rosary/

  • Whom Fortune Favors

    Whom Fortune Favors

    Saturday of the 21st Week in Ordinary Time

    1 Thessalonians 4:9-11; Matthew 25:14-30

    The parable of the talents is one we’re all very familiar with. Ironically, such familiarity actually works against us, for parables are at their best when they surprise us, present us with a riddle or twist that teases us into deeper contemplation about its meaning and its relevance to our lives.

    One aspect of the parable that might still be surprising concerns the talents themselves, specifically their value. In our Lord’s time, a talent was worth about 6000 silver pieces, or 20 years of wages. By using such vast sums of money (the parable goes up to 100 years’ worth), it certainly seems like Jesus wanted us to wonder what all that wealth could possibly represent.

    The fact is, we really don’t know. Some scholars see them as our abilities, the God-given gifts we are born with; we still use the word “talents” for those to this day. Maybe, but Jesus tells us in the parable that each servant got a different amount of talents according to his ability (25:15); so, there are talents and there are abilities. I tend to agree with those who see the talents as riches of a different kind; specifically, the thousands of opportunities we are given by God over the course of our lives to show people what it means to be a disciple of Christ; to be his hands at work in the world.

    What opportunities am I talking about? I think some of the best examples are right in front of us, in our own homes, with the people who are most familiar to us. Research on the family shows that while family members are actually spending more time together than before, they are also alone more often. It’s called “being alone together,” and you may have seen it: A family at dinner, perhaps at a restaurant, sits together and eats together, but spends most of that time interacting by themselves with their hand-held device. Imagine being the one in the family who asks them to put those things away and spend that time with each other. We also know that, as people age, they spend more and more time alone. Imagine being the neighbor who invites them over, or regularly visits them. And, as we all sadly know, many of our young people rarely if ever go to church, and know nothing at all about God. Imagine being the relative who invites them to the church youth group to meet new kids, eat, have fun, and see where those interactions lead. Is such a person always popular for having spoken up or done what they did? No. But is it the charity spoken of by St. Paul in the first reading, or the new commandment Jesus spoke of in John’s gospel? You already know the answer.

    Of course, these are just three examples, but they and thousands more show that what Christ is looking for isn’t skill or experience, but boldness and humility. Consider the first two servants; they knew they weren’t skilled bankers or investors, yet they doubled their master’s money. How? By doing what good servants do: they watched their master, learned from him, then imitated him as Jesus said: Immediately. They didn’t know when he would return; all they knew was that he gave them this opportunity and empowered them to act in his name. Unlike the third servant, they didn’t waste time worrying, overthinking, or second-guessing themselves or their master. Rather, they did what St. Paul advised: minded their own affairs and worked with their own hands. That’s what the master would do, so it’s what they did.

    There’s an old saying that fortune favors the bold. Here and throughout the gospels, Jesus makes it clear that he favors the bold in faith with a fortune only he can give: a share in the Master’s joy. Who doesn’t want that kind of talent?

  • Commitment, Meet Consequences

    Commitment, Meet Consequences

    Saturday of the 19th Week in Ordinary Time

    Joshua 24:14-29; Psalm 16:1,8,11; Matthew 19:13-15

    Two sisters, fed up with the way the world was going, decided that they, along with one sister’s 14 year-old son, would leave civilization behind, go into the Rocky Mountains, and live alone in the wild. Having no idea how to do it, they watched a few videos, then said good-bye to some relatives, who tried hard to talk them out of it. Eleven months later, a hiker discovered their remains. The medical examiner determined that they died of starvation just a few months after leaving.

    What a tragic way to learn that serious commitments can have serious consequences. Joshua knew that, which explains why he responded as he did when the people chose to serve God alone. Saying, You may not be able to serve the Lord (Joshua 24:19) might not have been what they wanted to hear, but they needed to hear it. History plainly showed that, time in and time out, Israel tended to obey God and serve Him when times were good, but disobeyed and turned to idols when they were not. What’s more, God had made the consequences of disobedience abundantly clear: If you forsake the LORD and serve strange gods, he will then do evil to you and destroy you (Joshua 24:20). Knowing this, Joshua was duty-bound as leader of Israel to test their commitment.

    We do something similar today when people tell us they want to follow Jesus. We could just say yes, sign them up, and let them figure it out by themselves, but that’s like giving people a couple of nature videos and expecting them to survive in the wild alone; we’re setting them up for failure. Knowing that the commitment to follow God has life-or-death consequences, we take the time to teach them everything that has been handed on to us. That takes months or even years, but when we’re done, people have a much better idea what it means to follow Christ as he wants to be followed: Totally.

    I said, “when we’re done,” but the truth is that we’re never really done getting to know the faith and committing ourselves to it. Joshua’s challenge is just as relevant to those like us, who have been practicing the faith for a while. Are we able to serve the Lord? Like Israel, we might quickly, almost unthinkingly, reply “Yes,” but, because we know how serious the consequences are, we do better to pause, look back, and see if we too have a history of less-than-total commitment to God. Maybe at one time or another we too have chosen against Him; we got angry, someone in Church hurt us, or we were tempted by something the world had to offer. Whatever the reason, we allowed ourselves to drift away. Or, maybe sometimes our commitment has been halfhearted; we serve God when and how it is convenient, but not when it takes us out of our comfort zone. Again, the result is the same. Distancing ourselves from God or taking our commitment to Him too lightly is like trying to survive on our own in the wild: All we do is starve ourselves of the One who satisfies our deepest needs, for only God can do that.

    This is why the psalmist urges us to take refuge in the LORD, to set Him ever before us; He shows us the path to life and the fullness of joy forever (Psalm 16:1,8,11). To make this point, our Lord’s example in the gospel works perfectly, for a child’s world is built on love and trust. They love with the innocence and purity of heart that simply assumes we are always there for them. Out of this love, they trust completely that we will feed them, guide them, provide for them, and keep them safe. If the Kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these, then how could we do any less?

  • Body and Soul

    Body and Soul

    Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary

    1 Corinthians 15:20-27; Luke 1:39-56

    Speaking of God the Father, St. John of the Cross once said that, “In giving us his Son, his only Word (for he possesses no other), he spoke everything to us at once in this sole Word – and he has no more to say…”1

    In a very real way, the same can be said of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Her entire life proclaimed the greatness of the Lord. Everything she is – the humble, lowly, servant – speaks of Jesus, and everything she did – from hearing the word, to conceiving Jesus, to mothering him, to watching him die, to praying for the coming of the Spirit, her Spouse – speaks of doing his will, and the will of the One who sent him.

    So intimately united to the Blessed Trinity, body and soul, from the beginning, how could Mary be any less united to Him, body or soul, when her own earthly life came to an end? And when St. Paul, inspired by the Holy Spirit, wrote those beautiful, hopeful words: just as in Adam all die, so too in Christ shall all be brought to life, but each one in proper order: Christ the firstfruits; then, at his coming, those who belong to Christ (1 Corinthians 15:22-23), who can we imagine belonging more to Christ than Mary, his devoted daughter and mother? That is how we picture Mary best: As forever belonging to Christ, and as a model for how we should picture ourselves. For, after Jesus, that is God’s greatest gift to us through the Blessed Mother: Her destiny is our destiny; where Mary has gone, we, too, can go. Her Son suffered, died, and rose again to see to it, for her sake, and for ours.

    With that in mind, and in our prayers, let us celebrate the Feast of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary for what it is: The great reunion when mother and son embrace body and soul once again in the eternal splendor of heaven. And let us today, as every day, continue to thank God for the gift of his mother, who he has made our mother, and who, to this day, hears the word of God and does it, that we may one day embrace our Lord, body and soul, in that same glory.

    Mary, assumed into heaven, pray for us.

    1St. John of the Cross, The Ascent of Mount Carmel 2, 22, 3-5 in The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, translated by K. Kavanaugh OCD and O. Rodriguez OCD (Washington DC: Institute of Carmelite Studies, 1979), 179-180.

  • The Award We All Want

    The Award We All Want

    Memorial of the Dedication of the Basilica of St. Mary Major

    Revelation 21:1-5a; Luke 11:27-28

    Years ago, one of the kids came home from school with an award from a competition. I was happy, but I was the only one. My daughter’s expression told me that, whatever this was, it wasn’t what she expected or wanted. Then I saw it: A “participation award.” I admit, if I was her, I wouldn’t have liked it either. Everybody gets one, no matter how they do? Big deal!

    I thought of that when I read today’s gospel passage. A woman, clearly impressed by Christ’s teaching, complimented him on his mother. However, like some of his other responses when family was involved, this one struck me as, if not insulting, a little underwhelming. First, he corrected the woman by overruling her blessing (Rather…), then substituted one that included anyone who heard the word of God and did it. In other words, it seemed like Jesus was giving his mom the first-century equivalent of a participation award.

    Part of the problem is what gets lost in translation. Where in English the word ‘rather’ often implies ‘this and not that,’ the same word in Greek can just as easily imply, ‘this and that.’ So, Luke’s intention seems to have been that Jesus not only agreed with the woman’s blessing but added one of his own. His mother was doubly blessed!

    Still, facts are facts; correction or not, Jesus did add a blessing that included many others along with Mary, in a very real sense equating them with her. Why? Because, as he said in Revelation (1:5), he was making all things new. It is true that, in his humanity, Jesus could have only one biological family, but it is also true that his divinity has no such limit. That is why he said that when he was lifted up from the earth, he would draw all people to himself (John 12:32). Therefore, what bonds us one to the other is not defined
    in terms of blood relationships; what bonds us to each other, and to God, is the precious
    blood of Christ. This we can all share, for this we have in common with all people.

    Here we come to the heart of the honor we accord Mary. The infinitely powerful God made himself dependent on a lowly little girl from Nazareth for the blood that would give life to His Son, who would in turn pour out that blood for the life of the world. This in turn goes to the heart of our Feast today, for the Dedication of the Basilica of St. Mary Major celebrates the declaration by the Council of Ephesus made centuries ago, that Mary is the mother of the only Son of God; her blood flowed through his veins. Truly, this is a woman who heard the word of God and put her body and soul into doing it!

    Given that, let us meditate for a moment on what our Lord’s blessing today means for us. Like Jesus, there is a limit to the number of people who can be in our biological family. But think of all the people who can be in our spiritual family, to whom we can be a spiritual mother, father, sister, or brother. From our Lord’s point of view – which is the only one that matters – that is everyone we meet. Let us ask ourselves: What would the world be like if I tried just a little bit harder to treat them like the family Christ told us they already are? OK, but how? By doing what he praised his mother for: Hearing the word of God and doing it. Again, how? Well, we all know there isn’t one way; ours will depend on the gifts God gave us, the challenges that make it hard to use them, and the determination we show working to overcome those challenges.

    Sounds a lot like a competition, doesn’t it? It is. We know our opponents: The world, the flesh, and the devil, and we know the stakes: Eternity. What we must remember is that we go to our eternal home not with a participation award, but with whatever awared Christ sees fit to give us. And that is a very big deal.

    Mary, most blessed mother of God, pray for us.

    And now a word from our sponsor…

  • The Center of Attention

    The Center of Attention

    Memorial of Sts. Martha, Mary, and Lazarus (July 29)

    1 John 4:7-16; Luke 10:38-42

    In this section of the gospel according to Luke, Jesus teaches two important lessons. The first came in the form of the parable we know as “the Good Samaritan,” in which he showed us how God wants us to serve other people. Today we hear the second, where Jesus tells us how God wants us to serve Him.

    The setting of course is not a parable, but the home of Martha and Mary. Put yourself in their place: Jesus is coming to your home. How do you prepare for that? I’m sure there are many things you would do, all with the best intention: To make your house the warmest and most welcoming place you can. And as for yourself, what will you do when he is your guest? Without doubt, you intend to serve him as well as possible.

    How the two sisters prepared we cannot know, but we do know they served in very different ways. As for Mary, she chose to sit beside the Lord at his feet listening to him speak (Luke 10:39). Of all the disciples, only Mary is consistently found at the feet of Jesus: listening to him, weeping for him (John 11:32), and anointing him (John 12:3). This is why for centuries the Church has pointed to Mary of Bethany as a model of the contemplative life. It certainly nourished her faith; to this day, she is known as an evangelizer. John tells us that many people came to Mary after Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead (John 11:45).

    Martha took a more active role, but her faith was certainly no less. To the contrary; John puts on her lips alone the greatest affirmation of faith found in his gospel: I have come to believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one who is coming into the world (John 11:27). Nevertheless, here in Luke, Martha is distracted, burdened with much serving (Luke 10:40). Should she have chosen not to serve? That’s not what our Lord implied in the parable of the Good Samaritan; there, he commended people who actively serve their neighbor for their faithfulness. Then why did Jesus rebuke her, who was serving him? Not for her actions, but for her state of mind; Martha allowed her focus to shift away from him and onto her sister.

    It happens that, as people engage in some activity, they grow accustomed to it, and their minds begin to wander. Think about your prayer life; particularly, the prayers you say most often. Have you ever suddenly realized that your mind is a million miles away from the words your mouth is saying, even at Mass? As I said, it’s only natural, but that doesn’t mean unavoidable; it’s also natural to be vigilant. You know very well that when something is of vital importance to you, you’ll shake off any distraction to stay focused. What made Mary so noteworthy wasn’t where she sat herself, but where she put her mind: Fully on Christ, and everything he had to say. Had her thoughts been drifting somewhere else, she too would have been gently brought back to reality by Christ.

    It also happens sometimes that we serve others with mixed motives. Ask yourself if, while working in a parish ministry, you ever found yourself a little too concerned about whether people noticed or praised you, or got a little jealous when someone else was recognized and you weren’t. Again, it’s natural to want to be the center of attention now and then, to be recognized by others for what we’ve done. But, again, the issue is focus; the center of attention is God, not ourselves, and the standard of comparison is not other people, it is Jesus Christ. Who was ever more servant than he, yet when did he ever seek the limelight or care what anyone else thought? The gospels are clear that he had one goal: Doing his Father’s will. The same for Martha, the same for us; regardless what other people think or do, our goal first, last, and always, is to see and serve Christ, and thus show our love for God and our determination to do his will.

    So, today, let us take these lessons to heart. In a few moments, the Lord will be our guest in Holy Communion. The whole point of our time here is to prepare ourselves for that, to make our souls His most welcome home. We can only do that to the degree that we keep our eyes fixed on Christ, so to do what John urged us in the first reading when he said: Whoever acknowledges that Jesus is the Son of God, God remains in him and he in God (1 John 4:15).

    Sts. Lazarus, Martha, and Mary, pray for us.

  • To Fear and Fear Not

    To Fear and Fear Not

    Saturday of the 14th Week in Ordinary Time

    Matthew 10:24-33

    One thing we do as adults is teach children that there are things in life they should fear, and things they should not. For example, when kids are very young, we want them to be afraid of fire or crossing the street, but not afraid to talk to us about problems they have or things that bother them. Then, as they grow older, these fears mature; they learn that they don’t need to fear stoves or cars, but do need to learn how to use them responsibly. Similarly, they learn that we love them and can help, so they don’t need to be afraid to talk to us.

    In the gospel today, our Lord teaches us very much the same way. There are things we should fear, and things we should not.

    First and foremost, we should fear the Lord, for only He has power over both our body and our soul. But what does it mean to “fear” the Lord? As a child would understand it, fear of the Lord is coming to see who God is and who we are in comparison. But, like other fears, fear of the Lord is meant to mature into a deeper understanding, one of respect born of the deepest possible love. For example, picture the person you love the most and imagine that, in a moment of weakness, you said something hurtful about them to someone else. Then, imagine turning around, seeing them, and realizing they heard every word you just said. Who wouldn’t fear that moment? That is mature fear of the Lord: the fear of saying or doing anything that might offend God, who you love and respect above all else.

    If we could evangelize like that – fearing only God and offending Him – then of course we wouldn’t fear anyone or anything else. The question is how we do that.

    For one thing, we cannot truly love God unless we admit to Him and ourselves that we will always have some level of fear for ourselves and our safety. It’s a natural human reaction, and disciples of Christ certainly have good reason to feel it. In some countries, we are jailed, exiled, or executed, and while our country is better, hundreds of churches are vandalized or burned to the ground every year. The real question isn’t whether we fear for ourselves, but whether we allow that fear to affect what we say and do as disciples of Christ. That is why Christ said, It is enough… for the slave that he become like his master. If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much more those of his household (Matthew 10:25)! He is teaching us that, if we truly love God, then we shouldn’t fear being insulted or even persecuted for it; to the contrary, we should see it is a badge of honor. If it was good enough for Christ, it’s good enough for us.

    For another, if we love God and are willing to respond to his call, then we have to listen to what He said in this section of Matthew and put it into practice. To be an evangelist is to be shrewd and simple; it means watching people as Christ did, learning how they think and how they see life, so we can meet them where they are, and it means asking for the inspiration of the Holy Spirit so He can work through us to bring them where He wants them to be.

    Above all, remember this: The love of Christ teaches us that no matter how hard it is to live the Christian life, no matter how lost or alone we feel while trying to do it, true love of God leaves us nothing to fear. For as much as we love Him, God, who knows the fall of every sparrow, loves us infinitely more; every hair of our head has been counted. And we can count on this: He who brought us this far will not abandon us now. He will make a way, He will show us the way, for He is the way.

  • Ripple Effects

    Ripple Effects

    Friday of the 9th Week in Ordinary Time
    Memorial of St. Ephrem the Syrian, Deacon and Doctor of the Church

    Tobit 11:5-17; Mark 12:35-37

    In 1970, a teacher noticed that, if he asked one student to stop an annoying or distracting behavior, other students also stopped it; conversely, if he failed to reprimand a student for that behavior, other students began doing it. He called this the ‘ripple effect,’ a term we still use to describe how the behavior of one person affect others, who then affect others, and so on, like the ever-widening waves produced by a stone dropped in a pond.

    We see examples of this in the readings. Tobiah’s return is one example. His mother, tense for most of the story because his return is so overdue, had turned that tension on her husband; three times so far, she has been very short with him. But upon Tobiah’s return, she rejoices; as a result, she takes a softer tone with Tobit. Then there is how Tobiah’s return affected Tobit. Tobiah has brought healing; once healed, Tobit first joyfully blesses God, then bonds even more closely with his son. Finally, Tobiah’s new wife, Sarah, appears; this causes Tobit and Anna to rejoice, then their joy spreads to all the Jews of Nineveh. In the gospel, our Lord’s preaching is another example. He quotes Psalm 110:1, which first delights his hearers, then went on to delight the early Church. In fact, it delighted her so much that the authors of the New Testament cited that verse more than any other in the Old Testament in support of Jesus as the only begotten Son of God. That’s a ripple effect so large it’s almost beyond measure!

    We also see ripple effects in the life of St. Ephrem, who we remember today. One troublesome stone in the pond was his temper; ultimately, it so adversely affected those around him that he ended up in prison. Once there, though, Ephrem cast a much more productive stone in the pond: contemplation. Taking the time prison gave him to reflect on how his behavior affected himself and others, Ephrem promised God that, if he was released, he would make each day count. The ripples from that stone were impressive; once out of prison, he composed hundreds of hymns, was ordained a deacon, became one of the first to incorporate music into the sacred liturgy, to use women singers in the choir, and was foundational to the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception of Mary.

    Of course, this should prompt us to take a moment to consider the ripple effects in our own lives, both the good and the bad. First, think about how the good we have done has allowed others to do good, which has in turn allowed still others. Imagine the positive impact we have made on all those people! What better reason is there to praise God, as the psalmist sings today? Yet, at the same time, what better reason to ask God’s mercy, for if the good we have done has rippled through the world in a positive way, what have our sins done? While this is a sobering thought, it is key to any good examination of conscience. In the end, only God knows, and may well reveal at our judgment, how the good we have done and the sins we have committed have affected the destinies of other people.

    The book of Tobit makes clear that there is a supernatural element to all of this. Therein lies a warning; we know the torment the demon inflicted on Sarah in the story, and we know the accuser is still among us, whispering in our ear. But on the other hand, therein also lies the best news of all: That, in his infinite love and mercy, God will come to us as Tobiah and Raphael came to Tobit and his family, heal our brokenness, and bring us joy that radiates outward and touches all we come in contact with. All we have to do is ask, for the prayer of a contrite heart yields the greatest ripple effect of all time: the merits of the cross and resurrection of our Lord, Jesus Christ. As St. Ephrem once said,

    “Glory be to Thee, Who laid Thy cross as a bridge over death, that souls might pass over upon it from the dwelling of the dead to the dwelling of life!”

    St. Ephrem, pray for us.