Mark 10:45

Tag: mercy

  • The Three Consolations: Thursday of the 3rd Week of Advent

    Judges 13:2-7, 24-25a; Luke 1:5-25

    I remember once years ago sitting with my mother, watching TV. The shows were full of young people and I jokingly remarked, “I guess no one over 40 can be on TV.” Mom saw no humor in it; she replied, “Our society has no use for us older people, especially women. In their eyes, once we’re past childbearing age we’ve outlived our usefulness.”

    That got me thinking about the Hebrew world of today’s readings. Elizabeth and the mother of Sampson could probably identify with my mother’s feelings. They lived in a culture where barrenness was seen by many as a punishment from God (Genesis 16:2, 20:18). For such women the future was bleak; nothing but loneliness and insecurity to look forward to. No wonder some of them were prompted to despair (Genesis 30:1).

    Especially during seasons such as Advent and Christmas when we exalt the virtue of hope, people still fall prey to the loneliness, depression, and anxiety that lead to despair. Rather than consolation they are in desolation, the sense that God sees our hopelessness yet has abandoned us, left us in the dark, and is never coming back. We cannot see that it is only an inner sense and not the outward reality; the voice of the Prince of Lies telling us we are worthless, that God doesn’t love us and is far, far away. The truth is that God is as near as our next breath and loves us so much that we are worth dying for.

    It is the wait that fools us. If God loves us so much, why do we seem to wait forever for him to answer? The women in the readings must have wondered the same thing. Day after day, week after week, year after year they waited; still no answer. It would have been easy to give up. Yet what does Scripture say? Elizabeth, like her husband, was “righteous in the eyes of God, observing all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blamelessly” (Luke 1:6).

    In other words Elizabeth persevered, and it was this that kept her from falling into despair. This is a lesson for us. We too must not only endure times of desolation but use them to strengthen our spiritual gifts. We cannot learn prudence when the way is always clear, justice when all is fair, fortitude when times are easy, or temperance when we get everything in just the right amount. We cannot strengthen our faith when all is seen, or charity when all is given. In the same way, the virtue of hope grows stronger as we persevere in waiting and through that perseverance appreciate ever more deeply the coming of that which we most long for: Unity with God, the object of our hope. Desolation is not the time to turn away from God but toward him; to reinvigorate our hope in the everlasting joy of heaven. The time is now, for Advent is the definitive season of waiting, when hope longs to be rekindled.

    stained-glass-4522405_640The great gift of fertility given to Samson’s mother and to Elizabeth are confirmation that perseverance is rewarded. God sees all of us who endure desolation and, in his own time and manner, provides from the storehouse of his infinite mercy the life-giving consolation of his Spirit. When we find ourselves in times of desolation remember to ask the intercession of St. Elizabeth; she understands very well not only the pain of endless waiting but also the indescribable joy of the Holy Spirit’s three priceless consolations: The new life of St. John within her womb; the love and help of Mary, the Mother of Hope; and most of all the fulfillment of Hope itself: Our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

    St. Elizabeth, pray for us.

  • Our Mother, Clothed With the Sun: Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe

    Revelation 11:19a; 12:1-6a, 10ab; Luke 1:39-47

    The book of Revelation is apocalyptic literature. This was a genre used in and around the time of Christ. It is overloaded with rich and mystical symbolism; a single image may represent multiple things. Further, the imagery can be violent and warlike, even though its ultimate message is one of hope and peace.

    In the passage of Revelation chosen for today’s feast lurks a huge red dragon. The Hebrew word translated as dragon can also mean “serpent” or “sea monster” and is thought to represent the devil and the forces of evil, ready to make war against the Christ and his Church.

    In late 15th century Mexico, the Spanish conquistador Cortez saw echoes of that dragon in the violent, warlike Aztec religion. Every year, thousands of people were sacrificed to appease its bloodthirsty gods. In 1487, the dedication of a new pagan temple saw 80,000 people sacrificed in just a few days. As if that weren’t bad enough, the dragon’s shadow also appeared in some of the immigrants to the new world, who spoke of peace but practiced avarice, treating the Mexicans and their land as things to be exploited for personal gain. Even some within the Church hindered the spread of the gospel by refusing vocations from the local community; Catholic Mexicans were not allowed to minister to their own people. It’s not hard to understand why many resisted converting to Catholicism.

    If a reflection of the dragon could be found in the new world, so could a reflection of the woman. In 1531, a mystical apparition identified herself as “the ever Virgin, Holy Mary, the Mother of God” to a middle-aged Mexican man named Juan Diego. In Revelation, the woman was clothed with the sun, the moon under her feet, and wore a crown of stars. The apparition at Tepeyac is also rich in symbolism, but it is all Aztec. The woman stands in front of the sun, eclipsing the Aztec sun god; her foot rests on the moon, dominating their chief god, Quetzalcoatl; her mantle holds the stars, which they worshiped. Yet, the woman is not divine; her hands are in a posture of prayer and she looks down, which Aztec gods never do. She is a queen, for she wears the Aztec royal color of turquoise; a Christian, for there is a cross on her brooch, is pregnant, for she wears an Aztec maternity belt; yet she is a divine mother, for over her womb appears a four-petal flower, the Aztec symbol of a deity.

    As important as her image was, her words were far more so; for what she said, how she said it, and who she said it to. She spoke in the language of the Aztecs, not in Spanish; she spoke to a simple peasant, and through him to all people; her message was one of comfort and hope: She was there; she was their mother; she held them in her arms, heard their weeping, and knew of their hardships and sorrows. Above all, she wanted them to rest assured that through her intercession they would be healed.

    our-lady-of-guadalupe-4542831_1920She became known as Our Lady of Guadalupe, and as word of the miraculous appearance and image spread, she became the most effective tool of evangelization that Mexico or the world had ever known. In the gospel, Mary carried the Eternal Word into the Judean countryside where the babe within Elizabeth’s womb leaped for joy; 15 centuries later, Mary’s maternal word went out into the Mexican countryside where millions leaped for joy. Conversions increased so dramatically that for a couple of years the missionaries could almost not keep up with them. More than that, the peoples’ faith was strong; to this day, the faith of the Mexican people remains vibrant, with deep devotion to Our Lady of Guadalupe.

    In our own time the dragon still lurks. We do not have thousands dying in pagan temples, but we do have millions dying in abortion mills here and throughout the world. Still, the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe reminds us that the woman of Revelation is still present, still giving birth to the Church, still giving her ever victorious Son to the world. As she comforted the Mexican people, so she consoles us. She is our mother; she holds us in her arms; knows of our hardships and sorrows, and assures us that through her intercession, we too will be healed by Christ, her son.

    Our Lady of Guadalupe, pray for us.

  • Love Without Measure: Thursday of the 31st Week in Ordinary Time

    Luke 15:1-10

    A man with 99 sheep safe and sound leaves them all to recover a lost one and, finding it, rejoices as if it is all he owns. A woman with ten coins loses one of practically no value but like a miser turns the house upside down until she finds it, then throws a party when she does. If you find this behavior strange, surprising, or even mystifying, know that you’re not alone.

    Also know that our Lord is delighted to hear it.

    That’s because parables aren’t supposed to make sense on the surface. They’re meant to sound strange, to surprise, and even mystify us. Their unexpected behavior or surprising twists should give us pause, make us stop and reflect, prompt us to ask questions, and look beneath the surface for answers. The question for today’s parables is obvious: What is it that would make someone go so far out of their way to recover something it seems they could so easily do without?

    The answer is the infinite, overwhelming, passionate, mysterious, all-consuming love of God.

    This is a love that sees as we do not. We tend to value people not only for who they are but also for what they can do for us. On those terms what is one sheep compared to 99 or one nearly worthless coin compared to the other nine? In contrast, God’s infinite love values people not just for who they are but because they are. Thus, even one lost soul is of infinite importance. This overwhelming love assures us that even if we were the only person ever created God still would have suffered and died for us. Not only that, he wants his standard of love to be ours as well; to make the world a place without hatred, bitterness, resentment, or injustice, where we rejoice not when an enemy dies but when they repent, come to a knowledge and love of God, and live as he intends.

    That brings us to the second point of the parables, which is that God’s love brings the joy of conversion. Again in human terms, we tend to equate joy with an emotional high; a good feeling. But true joy is a fruit of the Holy Spirit, the happiness that comes as we pursue and come to possess our greatest good: Eternal union with God. This is what lies at the heart of the parables – the passionate joy that comes from finding what was lost but so priceless; the joy we too will know as we attain more and more perfect union with Almighty God.

    jesus-3499151_1280Finally, the parables teach us that the love of God works mysteriously through the process of conversion so that no matter how hard we search for Christ, it isn’t we who find him but he who finds us. Our life stories are a testament to the truth of the parables and Isaiah’s words that we have all gone astray like sheep (Isaiah 53:6). It’s who we are in the self-centered weakness of human love; left to ourselves we drift, fall into habits that may be comfortable but lead us further away from God. And it is who Christ is in the glorious strength of his all-consuming love that he comes to us like the shepherd and the woman in the parables, seeking out and saving what was lost (Luke 19:10) no matter the cost. This is the love that literally consumed him, leading him to the cross and beyond.

    It is always there that such infinite, overwhelming, passionate, mysterious, all-consuming love leads. None can possess real love without giving it away, know its deep joy without plumbing the depths of its sacrifice, or attain its life without letting our own life go. It’s very hard to comprehend that kind of love but that’s good because it gives us yet another question to contemplate. Ask yourself, what is the measure of my own love? Consider in your contemplation the answer given by the great saint Francis de Sales centuries ago, who perhaps had in mind these very parables.

    The measure of love is to love without measure.

  • The Pharisee Within: Thursday of the 30th Week in Ordinary Time

    Romans 8:31b-39; Luke 13:31-35

    In the gospel we heard the Pharisees warn Jesus to leave town because Herod wanted to kill him. That was very nice of them! It leads us to believe that, even though they didn’t think Jesus was the Christ, he was still a fellow Jew; it was only right to see that he came to no harm. It was the brotherly thing to do.

    Unless of course it wasn’t true.

    Call me cynical but I think the Pharisees were fibbing. Why? I have three reasons. First, Luke has nothing good to say about them anywhere else; to them, Jesus was a nuisance to be disposed of. Second, Jesus had just publicly scolded them (Luke 11:37-54); they were very unlikely to be feeling all warm and brotherly toward him. Third, while it’s true that Luke doesn’t have anything good to say about Herod either, he does say that Herod wanted to meet Jesus for a long time, for he had heard about him and had been hoping to see him perform some sign (Luke 23:8).

    But then why would the Pharisees deceive Jesus? Perhaps it was to test his resolve or try and break it. Knowing from their previous interactions that they were no match for him (Luke 6:1-11; 11:37-54), using Herod’s name was a way to threaten Jesus, to frighten him into going away and possibly even abandoning his mission.

    We would naturally condemn the Pharisees for that but before we do, we should look inside ourselves. Ask yourself: Have I ever wanted to do something I knew Jesus would condemn yet made the deliberate choice to do it anyway? Have I ever promised him that I would never do it again only to repeatedly break my word? Do I pray “Thy will be done” but try my best to see that my will is done?

    The truth is, we all have a Pharisee within. At one time or another, in one way or another, we are less than fully honest with our Lord. We say things we don’t mean, make promises we can’t keep, and twist the truth about ourselves, all in a vain attempt to hide what he already knows we are: sinners in dire need of his mercy and healing grace.

    The true wonder is that our Lord knows all this and loves us anyway, even unto death. After all, the gospel concludes with Jesus naming his executioners and it wasn’t Herod, it wasn’t Pilate, it wasn’t any one person. It was Jerusalem. Specifically, it was people who prayed for him, waited for his coming, followed his ministry, and greeted him at the city gates with shouts of Hosanna. These were the same people who shouted, “Crucify him!” Not just people like us. It was us. We have all crucified our Lord with our sins.

    So we are not only the Pharisee; we are Jerusalem.

    prodigal-son-3388599_640The psalmist today sings Save me O Lord in your mercy (Psalm 109:26). The readings are God’s answer to that prayer. In his infinite love and mercy he assures us that no matter how hypocritical we are, how much a Pharisee, or how much we deserve it, we are never alone. God is always true to his word and today his word is that there is nothing – neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature – that can separate us from the love of Jesus Christ our Lord (Romans 8:38-39).

    Praise be to God!