Mark 10:45

Tag: Discipleship

  • Better to be Better

    Saturday of the 1st Week in Lent

    Deuteronomy 26:16-19; Matthew 5:43-48

    A man once told me about something that happened to him at church. I know it may sound strange to some of you, but in his parish the people tend to sit in the same pew week after week. In his case, an older couple always sat in the pew right behind him and his family. He didn’t know their names, but they greeted each other at the sign of peace, and said goodbye when Mass was over. This went on for years; decades, even.

    One Sunday after Mass, the elderly woman lingered in her pew, weeping. When he asked if there was anything he could do, she said, “No. It’s just very near the anniversary of my husband’s death.” That struck the man deeply; he hadn’t even realized she’d been coming to Mass alone. After consoling her for awhile, he left, and resolved to never let that happen again. He kept his word; from then on, he and his family made it a point to talk with her, and became friends with her and other people near them at Mass.

    This is a great example of a principle our Lord alludes to in today’s gospel: the choice in life isn’t always between doing good and doing evil; sometimes, it’s between doing good and doing better. Loving those who love us is good; so is greeting our friends and family. But it’s better to love without regard to whether we’re loved in return, and to greet those who do not greet us.

    We talk a lot in the Church, especially during Lent, about living virtuously, and we do it in many ways: coming to church, volunteering in outreach to the poor, teaching children, beautifying the parish, etc. While these are all good and we must do them, Christ challenges us to think about what else we can do to better ourselves.

    In the spirit of the story I began with, one area might be recognizing the needs of those all around us. That isn’t always easy. We get stuck in such ruts – even with good things like going to Mass – that it can take a crisis, such as seeing someone in pain – to get us to see what’s better: looking beyond ourselves, even to the next pew.

    Of course, recognizing the need is good, but responding to it is better. It was good that the man consoled the widow behind him, and resolved to change his behavior. But the better thing was actually doing it, which he and his family did. For us, too, response can be the harder part; people may well need our help in ways we do not expect and that might cost us something. But that’s exactly the point; today and every day, Jesus challenges us to go beyond the good and seek the better. In so doing, we accomplish what he wants the most: The transformation not only of our parish and our community, but ourselves – one Christlike act of compassion at a time.

    —

  • On The Other Side

    On The Other Side

    Ash Wednesday

    Joel 2:2-17; 2 Corinthians 5:20 – 6:2; Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18

    An elderly monk and a young monk, walking down a road near a stream, came upon a beautiful woman standing by the water. She asked if they would help her cross to the other side. You see, she said, the stream is deep and I might drown. Looking down, the young monk muttered, “Sorry, we can’t.” The older monk sighed, picked her up, carried her across, waded back, then continued on his way. For a long time, his companion said nothing, but was clearly troubled. Finally, the older man asked, “Is something bothering you?” The other replied, “Why did you carry her across like that? What a terrible temptation!” Smiling, the elderly monk said, “Brother, I left her on the other side. You’re still carrying her. She’s getting heavy, isn’t she?”

    We’ve now entered that time of year the Church sets aside to ask what we need to leave “on the other side.” In other words, what burdens are we carrying? It could be many things: Maybe guilt, regret, anger, or frustration; maybe the burdens of stress due to illness or addiction. No matter what load weighs on our shoulders, even the strongest of us will eventually tire trying to carry it.

    The good news is that we don’t have to carry it at all. Like the elderly monk in the story, God will meet us in our struggle and help us lay our burden down. How? The readings break it down into three steps:

    First, we repent, or, as the prophet Joel says, return to God with our “whole heart.” Wholehearted repentance means not just telling God we’re sorry, or acting like we’re sorry, but really being sorry; that is, making an honest effort to change our behavior and our attitudes. In Confession, we call that having a firm purpose of amendment.

    Second, we reconcile. With whom? Anyone we’ve sinned against, which includes both God and other people. In fact, St. Paul urges us to be “ambassadors of reconciliation.” Even though we carry the burden of our sins and are tempted to hold onto them, God calls us to forsake our old ways, accept His gift of mercy, and be strengthened by His grace, that we may be more closely united to Him and to each other.

    Third, we renew ourselves in the practice of our faith by genuinely seeking God presence, not other peoples’ attention, by humbling ourselves before God rather than focusing on what we’re giving up, and by giving to others out of love, not for what can get out of it.

    May this Lent be for all of us the time we allow God to help us lay our burdens down. Through repentance, reconciliation, and a renewed commitment to living quietly and authentically before God, let’s leave our old selves on the other side and continue on our way with the lighter heart and open spirit He has in mind.

    —

  • The Love Behind It

    The Love Behind It

    Saturday of the 7th Week in Ordinary Time

    Sirach 17:1-15; Mark 10:13-16

    As parents, we try our best to give our children everything they need in life to prosper; a good, stable home, a solid education, including faith – the best upbringing we can provide. We don’t expect thanks, but it’s in the nature of children to give anyway. Even the very young make special, little gifts for their parents, who are very happy with them – their real happiness, of course, being that they see the kids are learning the value of giving. Parent or child, it’s not the gift that matters, but the love behind it.

    Our relationship with God is much the same. As Sirach reminds us, God has given us so much! First, He made us in His image and likeness; the only creatures of Earth to receive that wonderful gift. Second, He’s given us the Earth and dominion over it. On top of that, He gives us the gifts of the Holy Spirit. They appear throughout the passage: We are endowed with a strength of His own (fortitude), with counsel, the discipline of understanding, fills our hearts with wisdom, puts the fear of Himself in our hearts, sets before us knowledge, and does all that so we might glory in the wonder of his deeds and praise His holy name (piety). As if all this isn’t enough, He’s given us His only Son, our Lord, Jesus Christ, who in the Gospel shows once again how God is never outdone in generosity: When parents bring their children for a blessing, Jesus goes further – he takes them in his arms and embraces them. But again, as parents with children, God doesn’t do this because He has to. He’s teaching us that what matters isn’t the gift, but the love behind it.

    So, what are we as God’s children to give Him in return? Jesus made that clear when he said that if we love God, we will obey Him (John 14:23). He gives us two ways in today’s readings to do that. First, as He says in Sirach, “Avoid all evil.” This is the natural law, the law written in our hearts: Seek the good (God) and avoid anything that takes us away from Him. The second we heard in the gospel. When the disciples rebuked people bringing children to Jesus, he said, Let the children come to me; do not prevent them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these (Mark 10:14). In other words, we are to bring people to Christ and be Christ to others, treating them as we would treat him – even, and perhaps especially, those who (like children) cannot repay us. We do this expecting nothing in return, because once again, what matters isn’t the gift, but the love behind it.

    Today, we are reminded of the great blessing of living and loving with the innocence of children. For we love most like children of God when we give freely from our hearts without reservation. And we live most like children of God when we do good, forgive readily, and uphold the dignity of all people, remembering that they, like us, are made in His image and likeness. Above all, let us do everything with the tenderness of Christ, who invites us to give our hearts completely to him with the trust of little children, expecting nothing in return, but offering everything out of love. For that is what he, the only Son of God, did to his last breath – gave himself that we may live. Finally, like children, let us receive and rejoice in the Holy Eucharist, not only because it is the greatest gift of all, but because through it we are brought ever more deeply into the infinite Love behind it.

    —

  • Winning the Game of Life

    Winning the Game of Life

    The 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

    Wisdom 6:12-16; 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18; Matthew 25:1-13

    In a timed experiment, men and women competed to see who followed instructions better. Picture the scene: A man and his girlfriend enter a partitioned room, he on one side, she on the other. A bell starts the contest. Each runs to a small table and are handed an instruction sheet. The first task: “Put on lipstick.” The man does it, the woman reads. The next task, “Put on this dress.” He does it, she continues to read. Next, he does jumping jacks while shouting her name; still, she still reads. Finally, after sucking on a lemon, spinning in a circle on the floor, wearing a chicken mask and clucking, and a few more tasks, the bell ends the contest. He runs around the curtain, still wearing the dress and with lipstick on his face, only to see her, who did none of this yet won the contest, holding the instructions. Laughing, she shows him the last line on the page: “Now, ignore instructions one thru ten and sign this paper – you’ve completed the challenge!”

    You may be wondering a couple of things. First, how you would have done. Sorry, guys; most of us ended up with the dress on and lipstick on our face. Ladies, you carried the day; most of you ended up showing us where it said that we didn’t have to do any of that. Second, you may be curious what any of this has to do with today’s readings.

    The readings are all about knowing what success is, and doing what it takes to reach it. For example, we might look at success in life as if it’s a matter of following instructions: Get an education, earn a good living, find a spouse, raise a family, have a nice home, honor God. Now, these are all wonderful things; the person who values them is certainly wise and successful as the world sees it. But what about as God sees it? The first reading tells us that the wisdom given by God is the perfection of prudence (Wisdom 6:15). So, we are prudent in God’s eyes when we discern the right way to go to reach our goal, and wise when we know what the goal is before we set out.

    How are the prudent successful in life? The other readings help us answer that. First, our Lord’s parable. Like all parables, it contains a twist, something that would surprise its audience. It was a custom in the ancient world for the groom to meet the bride’s father, to make various arrangements. This could go quickly or take a long time; no one knew. Thus, the surprise wasn’t the long wait, or that the girls fell asleep, but that so few had enough oil with them. If the oil is our faith in Christ, who told us that we are the light of the world, and our actions must show that light (Matthew 5:14-16), then we need a good, steady supply of it, because, as we all know, sometimes our faith is sorely tested.

    The second reading is a good example. Some of the Christians in Thessalonika were getting anxious; they expected Jesus to return in their lifetime to judge the living and the dead. They had been waiting a long time; now, people in their community were dying, and they didn’t understand why he hadn’t returned. What was wrong? Perhaps their critics and detractors were right; maybe this Jesus was never coming back, and the whole thing was a deception! It’s not hard to understand this. Many in the modern world fall away or never believe because things don’t happen in a way we can all easily understand and relate to our faith. Good people die, the innocent suffer, things can be so unfair. The longer this goes on, the more we are tempted to ask what the Thessalonians asked – have we, too, been deceived? Where is God in all this?

    This is why St. Paul urges the Thessalonians to find their hope and consolation in Christ. He knew that Jesus hadn’t come to take away suffering and death. To the contrary; he, too, suffered and died. Rather, Jesus came to show us that death isn’t the final word – He is. What gives our faith its meaning is his resurrection, and the promise that we, too, will be raised to new and eternal life with him. When St. Paul said, we shall always be with the Lord (1 Thessalonians 4:17), he was reminding them that not only did Christ give them hope for new life, he was with them still, and would be forever. We don’t just have St. Paul’s word for that; Jesus himself closes St. Matthew’s gospel the way it began, by reminding us that he is Emmanuel, God-With-Us, when he said: behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age (Matthew 1:23; 28:20). What consolation! Christ is with us every moment of our lives; every joy, every sorrow, from the beginning until eternity.

    This brings us full circle to the experiment I began with. That game had a beginning, and it had an end. So, too, the game of life. The way to win is also the same: Follow the instructions, but first, know what the instructions are. Before he left, Jesus gave them to us: in Scripture, in Sacred Tradition such as the Creed we are about to recite, and in the teaching of the Church. But the final line is about how we show our faith, for without faith, our actions get us nowhere. So, picture this: Christ stands on the other side of the curtain, the instructions in his hand. He is reading the last line, in the words of Venerable Fulton Sheen: “Show me your hands. Do they have scars from giving? Show me your feet. Are they wounded in service? Show me your heart. Have you left a place for divine love?”

  • That Crucial Difference

    That Crucial Difference

    Memorial of St. Charles Borromeo, Bishop

    Romans 12:3-13; John 10:11-16

    Today, we heard St. Paul begin the second section of his letter to the Romans. In the first section, he explained the gospel; here, he explains how it should be lived. Hearing the word “should” brings to my mind that crucial difference between what we should do and what we actually do. We should live the gospel, but… do we?

    St. Paul first urges us to think “soberly” about ourselves; to take a good, hard look. What an exercise in humility! Just on the surface, we might think about how the doctor says we should look, and how we actually do look. That’s a crucial difference when it comes to our physical health. Thinking of our spiritual health, St. Paul then lists a series of gifts that we should be using, praying for, and doing enthusiastically out of love for Christ. But are we? These are crucial differences, too, for they speak to what St. Paul most wants to see: Authenticity, that we are living the way we should be: like Christ, with the love of shepherds who are willing to lay down their lives for their sheep.

    If anyone embodies such humility, authenticity, and love, it’s St. Charles Borromeo. His gifts were so many, lived so authentically, and their effect so great, that there isn’t time to go into it all. He was born into the kind of wealth and influence few families enjoy, but also, through the mercy of God, a piety even more rare. His was a family from whom nuns, priests, and Popes sprang. Made a cardinal at age 21 by his uncle, Pope Pius IV, Charles enjoyed an easy life at first, but was quickly redirected by the Pope, who made him his right-hand man. Pius acted not out of favoritism, but because he saw in Charles the gifts the Church so badly needed: He was intelligent, tactful, an able administrator, politically astute, fiercely loyal to the Church, a great communicator, a faithful priest and bishop, and a zealous reformer.

    Reform was perhaps the most monumental task given to Charles when the Council of Trent finally ended. This was the Council convoked to respond to the Protestant revolt. Implementing its reforms put his gifts to the test, for he met a lot of resistance, some of it so hostile that one person tried to kill him – a priest, no less! Most, however, simply couldn’t understand what the Church was doing, or why. In reply, Charles proposed that a catechism be created from the Council’s notes. He oversaw its writing and publication, and, to this day, we still have and use the Roman Catechism of St. Charles Borromeo.

    What can we learn from the life of this great saint? I can think of at least three things:

    1. Authenticity. St. Charles used his many gifts, not to get attention or because he should, but because he loved Christ. To him, all people, whether poor, ignorant, or hostile, were the face of Christ. Serving them was serving him. What about us? Do we use the gifts God has given us to serve our own needs, or do we see the face of Christ in others and serve them purely out of love for him?
    2. Reliance on the Holy Spirit. St. Charles traveled extensively and worked all hours; basically, poured his life into reform of the Church. He must have gotten weary, perhaps in darker moments even tempted to quit. But he didn’t; instead, he relied on the Holy Spirit to supply the fortitude and perseverance he needed, as St. Paul advised (Romans 12:11). Again, what about us? Do we ever get weary and tempted to quit? We should be asking the Spirit to supply what we need. Are we?
    3. Daily inner renewal. While fortitude and perseverance are vital, St. Paul also urges us to pray for zeal, which is the intensity of love. Imagine loving with the intensity of Christ! No trial or tribulation is too great; nothing can discourage us. This is the eagerness St. Charles spoke of when he said: “If we wish to make any progress in the service of God, we must begin every day of our life with new eagerness. We must keep ourselves in the presence of God as much as possible, and have no other view or end in all our actions but the divine honor.” Note, he tells us what we must do, not what we should do. That is the crucial difference whereby sinners become saints.

    St. Charles Borromeo, pray for us.

  • 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.

  • 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.