Mark 10:45

Tag: Spirituality

  • Mother and Disciple: The Feast of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary

    Zechariah 2:14-17; Matthew 12:46-50

    We may hear today’s gospel and wonder how any son could treat his mother like that, let alone the Son of God. Hearing that his mother is outside he doesn’t stop speaking and invite her in; rather, he uses her appearance to make the point that everyone who does the will of God is his mother. Shouldn’t Mary be insulted?

    No. She is doubly honored.

    First, remember that this is not just any son; this is Jesus, the only-begotten Son of God. Engaged in the mission for which he was sent, the salvation of souls, he was speaking about radical fidelity to the will of God. Faith binds us to Christ and to each other with a love born not in the blood of kinship but in his own precious blood. If his teaching shocked people, so be it. His point was not about Mary’s faithfulness, it was about ours.

    Indeed, faithfulness is her first honor. As St. Augustine said, Mary conceived her Son in faith before she conceived him in her womb. We think of her as his mother and rightly so for it was by her fiat that he came into the world, but we must also remember that she was his first and best disciple. Mary is the only person to appear in the gospels from before his conception until the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost.

    It may seem ironic that from the faithful dwelling of her motherhood Mary invited him in yet he, her Son, refused to return the favor. But again Mary loved him as both mother and disciple. As mother she might feel the sting of his words as he broadened “family” from the ties of blood to those of faith, but as disciple she knew and lived their truth. Despite whatever personal pain the truth may cause it is always the source of joy, for joy is happiness in pursuit of the good and Mary lived her life in hope of attaining the greatest good: Eternal union in heaven with God who is love.

    Love is the second honor of Mary. Only through love do we live life to the full and this necessarily includes all the joys and sorrows that go with it. We might think that in his mercy Christ would spare his own mother the pain of suffering but actually the opposite is true: He loved her too much to deprive her of it. What kind of love knows no sorrow, feels no pain, and never suffers? Rightly is Mary the Mother of Sorrows for in her great love she suffered many times over, from the mystical sword that pierced her heart to her Son’s burial in the tomb. Yet as Scripture reminds us, love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things (1 Corinthians 13:7) and is as deep as death (Song of Songs 8:6); Mary’s love for Jesus could not be broken by any boundary of space or time, but did reach perfection in his love for her: her own glorious Assumption.

    stained-glass-4506616_640The two themes of fidelity and love are interwoven in the feast of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary. The presentation of oneself to God is an act of great faith and deep love. Whether Mary demonstrated her faith and love in a formal consecration to God in the Temple as described in the ancient non-biblical documents is irrelevant. Every day of Mary’s life was a presentation, a self-offering, an abandonment to the divine will made possible by the movement of grace within her. Long before he dwelled within her womb, indeed from the moment of her immaculate conception, our Lord dwelled within her soul and bestowed upon it the fullness of grace, his very life. By her response to that grace, Mary most truly defines what it means to be a Temple of the Holy Spirit.

    What does all this mean for us? It means that as Mary has done so we are invited to do. St. Paul said, “Do you not know that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? … Therefore, glorify God in your body” (1 Corinthians 3:16, 6:20). May we never forget that every time we receive Holy Communion we present ourselves to God in an act of faith and love like Mary his handmaid, that we too may glorify God in our bodies.

    Blessed Mother intercede for us, that like you we may be among those to whom Christ says, “whoever does the will of my heavenly Father is my brother, and sister, and mother” (Matthew 12:50).

  • True Wisdom: Thursday of the 32nd Week in Ordinary Time

    Wisdom 7:22b-8:1; Luke 17:20-25

    In college one of my classmates was a man who it seemed was always a step ahead of me. While I was still learning one computer technology he was onto whatever was replacing it. I couldn’t keep up with him.

    One semester we took the same class and it became clear to me that he wasn’t far ahead at all; he was actually much further behind. The problem was that he didn’t stick with anything long enough to finish it. He’d start a book, paper, or project but move on when something else caught his attention. When it came time for our final class presentations he was totally unprepared; he had nothing to say. He ended up dropping out of school. I felt very sorry for him.

    Had I been wiser I would have stopped and contemplated the many ways I am that man. For one thing, my shelves are lined with books that got my attention for awhile but which I put down as soon as I found something else. For another, I catch myself tuning out a Scripture passage because I’ve heard it before and think I understand it. As if that isn’t bad enough, I sometimes pay the least attention to the people closest to me, assuming that they know I care so I don’t need to say it or act much like it.

    Maybe this describes all of us to some degree. We begin a spiritual article on the internet and abandon it as soon as a flashy image catches our eye; scroll past bible verses and quotes from saints without contemplating them; spend hours searching for God online but miss finding him in our own families.

    These are the modern-day equivalent of the behavior discussed by Jesus in today’s gospel. Expectations about the flash and bombast of the Messiah and his Kingdom, scant attention paid to the meaning of our Lord’s words, and eagerness to scan the spiritual horizon for something new combined to give the Pharisees and even some of our Lord’s disciples a kind of spiritual farsightedness; they looked at but couldn’t see either the King or his Kingdom there among them.

    They did these things for the same reason we do: To gain the wisdom that will bring us closer to God and other people. The irony is that instead of bringing us closer they overwhelm us and keep us away. Discouraged by lack of results, some of us even abandon the attempt, drop out, or fall away.

    directory-229117_640No wonder. Internet scans, scrolls, and searches cannot bring the wisdom we need. As the first reading tells us, Wisdom is a spirit… Firm, secure, tranquil, all-powerful, all-seeing… the spotless mirror of the power of God, the image of his goodness (Wisdom 7:22, 23, 26). Wisdom is Christ, and his gift to us is wisdom as the fruit of the Spirit. A fruit born of the love of God, wisdom desires not only to be one with God but to see things as God sees them. Like any fruit, wisdom takes time to mature; its development a function of our life experience as seen through the lens of long-suffering that strengthens us to finish what we start, docility to listen as God speaks, and humility to remember that we are servants of God and each other.

    Spurred on by these, spiritual wisdom helps us find the proper balance between searching for the Kingdom yet to come and living in the Kingdom here and now. We must do both, for the Christ who tells us today that the Kingdom of God is among us is the same Christ who teaches us to pray “Thy Kingdom come.” The balance can only be found through prudence, the virtuous midpoint between the extreme of finding too many paths to take and the other extreme of looking for none at all.

    So let us pray for prudence, and that whatever path to God we find ourselves on we do what prudence dictates: Prepare for the coming of the Kingdom by tending to the Kingdom among us, and anticipate the glorious return of Christ the King by seeing and serving him in everyone we meet.

  • 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.

  • Stained Glass Images of God: Friday of the 29th Week of Ordinary Time

    Romans 7:18-25a; Luke 12:54-59

    As a young man I spent several years attending a church that I thought had the most beautiful stained glass windows. I used to love sitting there early in the morning or late in the afternoon, watching how the sunlight made those images so warmly luminescent. I never liked going there at night when most of the lights were out. In the darkness the images appeared so lifeless, dull, and indistinct.

    Those memories came to mind as I thought about today’s readings. Every person conceived in original sin knows firsthand that struggle between light and darkness within ourselves. We have been given both knowledge of the light – what St. Paul calls “the law of God” – and the darkness of concupiscence, or the tendency to do evil – what he calls the “law of sin.” The saints are no different. Stained glass images may depict them as solemn, haloed people in pious postures, but they were flesh and blood just like we are. They felt all the same joys and sorrows and they knew the frustration of feeling trapped in a seemingly endless cycle of knowing the right yet so consistently doing the wrong. It was one of the greatest saints known to us, St. Paul himself, who wrote of this frustration, Miserable one that I am! (Romans 7:24)

    In today’s gospel, Jesus points out why we’re miserable. It is our failure to read the signs of the times and to settle with our opponent. The opponent may be the devil, and it is convenient to blame him, but many times we don’t need his help; we are our own worst enemy. And our enemy knows us very well. When we’re caught up in the darkness of sin and feel its misery, he fools us into thinking that all we need to feel better is more of what made us sick to begin with. This was portrayed perfectly by C.S Lewis in his novel The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Remember how Edmund craved the Turkish Delight? He couldn’t eat enough of it yet the more he ate the worse he felt, the more addicted he became, and the easier he was for the witch to manipulate. Our Turkish Delight may be money, power, or control. We think, “If only I can get more, I will be satisfied,” only to find upon getting it that the emptiness we longed to fill is still there, maybe worse than before. Like those stained glass windows in the dead of night we become lifeless, dull, indistinct images of God. Who couldn’t sympathize with St. Paul as he asks, Who will deliver me from this mortal body? (Romans 7:24)

    Of course, he knew the answer for he says, Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord (Romans 7:25). St. Paul knew that even the darkest night gives way to dawn. What makes a saint a saint is not that they rid themselves of their concupiscence but that they did as Christ taught; they settled the matter on the way. Their repentance set the example for us in three ways. First, they made a firm resolution to turn from the darkness of sin and live in the light of Christ. This happens in Confession when we pray an Act of Contrition, telling God that we are sorry for what we have done not only because we fear his judgment but because our sins have offended him, who is all good and deserving of all our love. Second, the saints amended their lives, which again is obeying the voice of Christ who through St. John the Baptist urged us to show fruits of our repentance (Matthew 3:8). Third, because they knew that they would never in this life be free of concupiscence, the saints spent the rest of their lives cultivating the virtue of hope. They have come to realize once and for all that the redeeming light of Christ is the only sure hope against the ever-looming darkness of sin.

    king-1841529_640That is the image I think of now when I think of saints. Not images set in glass that glow with the sunlight, but people who now and forever glow with the radiance of the one true Light – Christ, the Morning Star who never sets.

    Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord.

  • Know Jesus, Know Peace: Thursday of the 29th Week in Ordinary Time

    Romans 6:19-23; Luke 12:49-53

    Shopping at a nearby grocery store recently I couldn’t help but notice all the Christmas merchandise on display. When I spotted an ornament that said Peace on Earth I was reminded of Jesus in the readings we will soon hear – the prophet Isaiah speaking of the coming Prince of Peace; angels singing of peace on Earth; Luke telling of the whole world being at peace.

    What a stark contrast to today’s gospel, where Jesus says that he has come not to establish peace but division. We might wonder what happened; isn’t this the same Jesus who blessed peacemakers (Matthew 5:9) and so lovingly bid his disciples peace (John 16:33; John 20:19, 21)?

    Yes, but a bit more depth is called for. It is true that Isaiah called the Messiah the Prince of Peace but he also called him a stumbling block (Isaiah 8:14). At his birth the angels did sing of peace but just days later Simeon called him a sign that would be contradicted (Luke 2:33-34). Jesus did bless the peacemakers but he also said that he came to give sight to the blind and to remove it from those who see (John 9:39). Paul said that Jesus is peace (Ephesians 2:14), but Jesus said he is the peace the world cannot give (John 14:27).

    The world cannot do so because the peace of Christ is not merely the lack of war, it is a fruit of the Spirit; the union of wills binding us to each other and to God. Like all fruit, peace takes time to develop and requires trust, patience, and humility. Still, the reward is worth the wait for this is the peace that brings life in abundance and is why Christ came; to reconcile us to the Father by putting the enmity between us to death on the cross, restoring us to right relationship with the Father.

    Our Lord’s words in the gospel must be understood in this context. When he speaks of fire we should think of his love. As from a single flame come light and heat, so from the heart of Christ come mercy and justice. On all who dwell in the darkness of sin and the shadow of death fall the two sides of true peace: the light of his mercy that shines like the dawn and the healing rays of his justice that purify us like silver in a refiner’s fire. And when he speaks of division we should think of pride, for this is what keeps us separated from God and each other. Pride breeds the shame that keeps us in darkness and away from the penetrating light of Christ, as well as the fear of admitting our faults that keeps us away from the healing grace of Confession.

    In calling out these things Christ identifies the battle that rages within each of us: Remain free of God and enslaved to sin, or be free of sin and enslaved to God. The first leads to discord, the second to peace. The choice of peace seems so obvious but as Paul implies in the first reading it is notoriously difficult. Of the many obstacles, the primary one is ourselves. We are our own worst enemy and daily die the death of a thousand cuts; little things that edge us into the darkness. For example, in our free time when we could say a prayer we choose to surf the internet. When we could pick up the phone and reconcile with a long lost brother, sister, parent, or child, we wait for them to call first. When we could volunteer at the food pantry, homeless shelter, or nursing home, we sit back and watch TV.

    knight-2565957_640To win this combat and know the peace of Christ we need the armor of the virtues; prudence, to discern where our good lies; temperance, to know when we should move on; justice, to understand that the love we give our neighbor and God is the love we owe them; and fortitude, to constantly yield our will to that of Christ, for only his is the love that casts out all fear, not only restoring us to right relationship with the Father, but reconciling us with each other.

    In the end, the choice to fight the battle is ours. Peace on Earth can remain a Christmas slogan or be a lived reality. The first costs nothing, requires nothing, and yields nothing; the second costs all we have, requires all we are, and yields eternal life.

    It comes down to this: No Jesus, no peace; know Jesus, know peace.

  • Rich in What Matters to God: St. Isaac Jogues and Companions, Martyrs

    Luke 12:13-21

    In the 17th century, Fr. Isaac Jogues and his companions were among the French Jesuit missionaries who ministered to the Huron, Iroquois, and Mohawk tribes in Canada and New York. To the natives they were “the Black Robes” and were seen at first as curiosities and perhaps nuisances; however, over time their gentle, loving, and helpful demeanor won over many Hurons.

    The Hurons’ enemies, the Iroquois and Mohawks, were not as open-minded. Eventually, Fr. Jogues was taken captive by the Mohawks in upstate New York. Despite mutilating and breaking his body, his captors could not break his spirit. He was the prisoner who acted as though he was free; so implacably kind, so resolutely loving in the face of abuse that he became known as “the Indomitable One.” Slowly, he began to win them over. An elderly Mohawk even adopted him as her nephew.

    When afforded an opportunity to escape, Father regained his freedom but did not enjoy it. In France he seemed to have achieved celebrity status, which he found distasteful. He quickly requested and received permission to return to Canada and New York, where he was soon assigned as ambassador to the Mohawks.

    Although Father was anxious about this assignment, he left his fate in Christ’s hands. For a time the Mohawks were cordial and Father ministered to them. Sadly though, when the crops failed and illnesses set in among the tribe, he was blamed and again made a prisoner. While most of the Mohawks wanted him treated humanely, a small and hostile minority did not. Fr. Jogues suffered martyrdom at their hands at the age of 39 on October 18, 1646.

    antique-233285_640In Luke’s gospel, Jesus said this night your life will be demanded of you; and the things you have prepared, to whom will they belong? Thus will it be for the one who stores up treasure for himself but is not rich in what matters to God.

    Father’s life of missionary service stands as a great testament to these words. In terms of possessions, he died with nothing; in what matters to God, he was the richest of men. Slowly, kindly, patiently, and lovingly he had amassed a fortune by preparing the hearts of these native people, for he knew that they all belonged to God, even the one who would demand and take his life.

    Of this last point we have proof. Sometime after his death, a captured Mohawk warrior was identified by witnesses as Father’s killer. There was not enough hard evidence to convict him, so the missionaries had to set him free. However, the man told them that he had heard Father Jogues preach around the campfire and now wanted to be baptized. When asked what his Christian name would be, he said that he wanted to take the name of the “Indomitable One.” The warrior died not long after being baptized “Isaac Jogues.”

    We will have the mind of St. Isaac Jogues, so totally patterned after the mind of Christ, when we can picture the two men named Isaac Jogues meeting in heaven, and can imagine the joy.

    St. Isaac Jogues, pray for us.

  • What Faith Demands: Memorial of St. Ignatius of Antioch, Bishop and Martyr

    Romans 3:21-30; Luke 11:47-54

    Although the Hebrew bible and Christian Old Testament are very similar with regard to the books they contain, they are structured quite differently. In the Old Testament the prophets come at the end, just before the New Testament. Placing them there emphasizes the prophets’ role as looking forward to the coming of Christ. In the Hebrew bible, however, the prophetic books come much closer to the Torah, or the first 5 books of the bible. This placement emphasizes the prophets’ role of looking back, reflecting on the Law and urging people to live it out in their daily lives.

    This role of reflection and exhortation made the prophets very much the conscience of Jewish society. The voice of the voiceless, the champion of the downtrodden, they spoke the word of God in words of men. While this made the prophets popular to some, the feeling was not universal; others, like the powerful and influential who were threatened by the cries for justice, found them irritating and troublesome. This is why in the gospel today Jesus refers to the blood of the prophets (Luke 11:50); at least a few tyrants thought the best way to deaden the social conscience was to kill those speaking it.

    But God is not so easily dismissed; for every voice silenced, another made itself heard. This was most perfectly the case for Christ, whose voice not only echoed through the prophets but rang through the hills and valleys of Israel in his earthly ministry and continues to ring in the words of the Scriptures he gave the world.

    In the first reading, St. Paul reflects on the foundation of equality preached by the prophets, as regards both sin and righteousness. As he reminds us, sin is no one’s private property; it is the shared condition of all humanity. But the remedy for it also equally applies; slave and king alike share in the righteousness bestowed as the gift of the Father, given through the blood of his Son, in the love that is the Holy Spirit. This is the love Christ most wants us to have for it is the life of God himself (1 John 4:16), given that we may have life in abundance (John 10:10).

    Of course, the abundant life requires listening to the prophetic voice within that urges a selfless life of God first, others next, and ourselves as servants of all. Like the scribes and Pharisees in today’s gospel it is tempting to want to silence that voice in favor of the comfort and complacence of the status quo. But in his merciful love Jesus assumed the role of prophet to forcefully remind them – and us – that every time we fail to be the voice of the voiceless, champion of the downtrodden, or justice for the oppressed, every time we hear his law of love in our hearts but refuse to live it out in our lives, we keep ourselves from God and worse, keep others away as well.

    colosseum-1234144_640St. Ignatius of Antioch understood this. The depths of divine love moved him to be one of those of whom Christ said, I will send to them prophets and apostles… (Luke 11:49a). Sent to oversee the Christian faithful as bishop of Antioch, Ignatius tirelessly preached the truth of the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist as well as the necessity of accepting the faith as it was handed down by the Apostles. Ignatius had such deep faith in Christ that he chose to remain with him despite the conclusion of that same verse: … some of them they will kill and persecute (Luke 11:49b). Preferring to die rather than betray Christ, Ignatius was brought to Rome and martyred around the year 115.

    We as disciples must be ready for the acceptance and rejection that our role as prophet brings. This is what faith demands, for it is not faith in ourselves or our ability to move hearts but in the One who has justified, commissioned, and sent us, and in whose name we do all that we do. Let us pray that like St. Ignatius of Antioch we never lose heart in the face of persecution or rejection, but rather redouble our efforts at living out the gospel, that through us many are called to the repentance and salvation that only Christ can offer.

    St. Ignatius of Antioch, pray for us.

  • Sent: Monday of the 28th Week in Ordinary Time

    Romans 1:1-7; Luke 11:29-32

    One day at a high school for wealthy children in India, a teacher happened to wander outside the school’s gates. In the poverty and misery that surrounded her, this young nun saw and heard something greater than the wisdom of Solomon. Saint Teresa of Calcutta spent the rest of her life serving the poorest of the poor in the gutters and slums of India and the world.

    In another part of the world, a young Frenchman rejected the faith of his family and indulged in a carefree life of luxury. After squandering a huge inheritance he entered the military, who threw him out. His second attempt at military service drew him into contact with the people of the Sahara; in their poverty and solitude, this man saw something greater than the Temple. He went home, rediscovered his faith, became a priest, and returned to Africa. Blessed Charles de Foucauld spent the rest of his life ministering to the Muslims of the desert.

    It would be hard to find two people more different at the outset, yet how similar they became. One a hedonistic playboy looking out only for himself; the other a consecrated religious doing what she thought God wanted her to do. Both were called by Christ to a life they would have never imagined and in the end would never relinquish. Their responses transformed them and transformed the world.

    Their destiny points to the choice that Jesus lays before us. Either we can be part of the “evil generation” that demands the certainty of miraculous signs and rejects the certitude of faith, or we can use our God-given faith given to discern the only sign that matters. Jesus called it the sign of Jonah, but in reality it is his own true presence, for he is the Temple not made with hands; he is Wisdom itself.

    passion-3807312_640This is what the saints and the blessed have discovered. The greatest good in life is to see and serve Christ; that is what gives our life its ultimate meaning. However, we will never be able to do that until we see Christ in each other and become Christ for each other. St. Paul knew this; that is how he could write that the grace of apostleship is found in the obedience of faith. By faith we believe that God loves everyone and that we are to love as God loves, but it also teaches that the people who we think are least deserving of our love are the ones most worthy of it. Thus, obedience to the faith means that as apostles we are sent to be Christ and to find Christ in everyone, even those we find hardest to serve. Only grace can provide the humility and openness to vulnerability that can empower us to do the work for which we have been sent.

    That brings us to the final point. Where have we been sent and who are we to serve? Consider this thought from Blessed Charles de Foucauld:

    It is not necessary to teach others, to cure them or to improve them; it is only necessary to live among them, sharing the human condition and being present to them in love.

    Put that in the context of this thought from Saint Teresa:

    It is easy to love the people far away. It is not always easy to love those close to us. It is easier to give a cup of rice to relieve hunger than to relieve the loneliness and pain of someone unloved in our home. Bring love into your home for this is where our love for each other must start.

    So, you are the apostle to your home, to your parish, and to your community. See Christ in them; love Christ in them; serve Christ in them.

  • The Hope of Happiness: Saturday of the 27th Week in Ordinary Time

    Joel 4:12-21; Luke 11:27-28

    In the reading from the prophet Joel, God vanquishes the enemies of Judah and the land produces in overflowing abundance. As the earlier chapters of this book make clear, a famine brought on by a plague of locusts had ravaged the land, both city and countryside. The images offered by Joel of a conquering, provident God were a hope-filled reflection of this suffering people’s desire to know that God was dwelling among them; in other words, this is how they wanted their prayers answered, in security and abundance.

    We are not so different from them. In our own prayers we ask God to do things like conquer our foes, provide abundant harvests, heal us or those we love. We speak of our prayers being answered and we give thanks to God when the enemy is gone, the harvest is good, and we or someone for whom we have prayed does in fact recover.

    On one level, there is nothing wrong with that. God does keep us secure; does provide for us; does heal. For this, we can and must give thanks.

    There is a deeper level though, and Jesus points us toward it in today’s gospel. When a woman blessed the womb that bore him and the breasts that nursed him, Jesus replied that Mary was blessed because, as his first disciple, she heard the word of God and did it. As St. Augustine said, Mary conceived in her heart before she conceived in her womb.

    This is the deeper level on which Jesus focuses our attention. Although we can pray that things go the way we want them to, the most fruitful prayer is that our will be aligned to the will of God. This was Mary’s prayer when she said, May it be done to me according to your word (Luke 1:38); it was Christ’s prayer when he said not my will but yours be done (Luke 22:42b). This doesn’t mean that we are happy if and when catastrophe strikes, but it does mean that we hear the word of God and do it, keeping in mind that he has also said, I know well the plans I have in mind for you … plans for your welfare and not for woe, so as to give you a future of hope (Jeremiah 29:11).

    maria-100112_1280As the Catechism teaches, hope is “the theological 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” (CCC 1817). Joel pointed toward Christ our hope when he spoke of the spring that will rise from the house of the LORD (Joel 4:18b). This is the hope of life that springs eternal; the happiness to which Mary was united at the end of her earthly life; the hope of happiness that we desire. May we unite our wills to the will of God as she did, and may it be done to us according to his Word.

  • What we need: Thursday of the 27th Week of Ordinary Time

    Malachi 3:13-20b; Luke 11:5-13

    Think of the hobby or pastime you love most. Imagine that the world’s leading expert in that area comes to visit you. Honored, you ask him how to improve and he freely offers his advice. Would you take it? Wouldn’t it be foolish not to?

    Today God himself visits us in his Word and advises us how to approach him in prayer. If we are wise we will listen to him.

    In the first reading he teaches us two foundations of effective prayer: humility and fear of the Lord. Humility helps us realize that we come before God in total dependence. Without him, we have nothing; with him, we have everything. Fear of the Lord is that gift of the Spirit by which we do whatever we can to avoid separating ourselves from him. Through Malachi, God makes clear that those who fear the Lord receive all that they need – his infinite mercy and compassion.

    In yesterday’s gospel, Jesus built on that foundation by teaching his disciples the Our Father. In this beautiful prayer he shows us that praying to God is not simply a matter of approaching God but in giving ourselves over to his will and committing ourselves to cooperate in his Divine plan for the world (Catechism of the Catholic Church, §2611).

    Today, our Lord continues his catechesis on prayer using both parable and exhortation. In the parable he places prayer in the context of urgency and persistence. First, notice that the man in the parable didn’t wait until a more convenient time to ask for bread; he went out immediately to find what was needed. We know in our own lives how sad we would be to discover that our friend had an urgent need yet refused to ask us for help. So it is with our heavenly Father; he doesn’t want us to bear our burdens alone but to seize the moment, come to him, and tell him our needs. Second, Jesus emphasizes the power of persistence. Unwilling to take no for an answer, the man in the parable showed that he cared enough for his guest to overcome any obstacle to get what he needed. Persistence in prayer helps us to grow in fortitude, the virtue that enables us to conquer our fear and boldly pursue what we need.

    Finally, Jesus exhorts us to pray with the assurance that our prayers will be answered. Those who are bold enough to ask will receive; to seek, will find; to knock, the door will be opened. But most importantly, note that he doesn’t say we will get what we want. Rather, we will receive the Holy Spirit.

    the-holy-spirit-364251_640We asked for other things; why should we be happy to receive the Holy Spirit instead? Consider everything he brings: Wisdom, the ability to see what is most important; understanding, to get to the heart of the matter; counsel, to submit to the providence of God; fortitude, the strength to pursue the good; knowledge, the ability to judge rightly; piety, reverence for God; and fear of the Lord, a love of God so deep that we would do nothing to hurt him. Poured lavishly upon us, these gifts bring us closer and closer to the mind and heart of Christ, who prayed as he lived – perfectly – that the Father’s will be done, who lived his prayer to the death, and who showed us that death is not the end but the pathway to resurrection and perfect unity with the Father.

    Open our hearts O Lord, that we may listen and heed your advice. May we approach you humbly, pray persistently, and rest secure in the knowledge that every prayer is answered by the gift of the Spirit, who goes far beyond everything we want to give us everything we need.