Author: DVO

Saint John Paul II wrote that in a highly developed society such as ours, where everyone has enough to eat, where education and health care are available to all, and where a high level of social justice is being achieved, it is easy to lose sight of the Creator, from whose loving hands all things come. It is easy to love as if God did not exist. Indeed, there is a powerful attraction to such an attitude, for it might seem that acknowledging God as the origin and end of all things lessens human independence and places unacceptable limits on human action. But when we forget God, we soon lose sight of the deeper meaning of our existence; we no longer know who we are. Is this not an important part of the dissatisfaction common in highly developed societies? Bishop Barron writes that one of the most fundamental statements of the Christian faith is this: your life is not about you. This is not your project. Rather, you are part of God’s great design. To believe this in your bones and to act accordingly is to have faith. When we operate out of this transformed vision, amazing things can happen, for we have surrendered to “a power already at work in us that can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine.”

Deep inside authentic faith is the truth that God is the object of all human desire, no matter how earthy and unholy that desire may seem. Today’s verse from Matthew’s Gospel tells us that the Lord listens and responds to all that is asked within his covenantal promise and understanding of His will for humankind. Fr. Rolheiser writes that this implies that everything we desire is contained in God. “Do we really believe that God is the real object of our desires? When we look at all that is beautiful, full of life, attractive, sexually alluring, and pleasurable on earth, do we really think and believe that this is contained in an infinitely richer way inside of God and inside the life into which God invites us? Do we really believe that the joys of heaven will surpass the pleasures of earth and that, already in this world, the pleasures of virtue trump the sensations of sin? Do we really believe that faith will give us what we desire? Jesus promises that whatever we give up for what is higher will be returned to us one hundredfold. Knowing this, we should live our lives fully enjoying what is earthy and earthly. The beauties and pleasures of this life are a gift from God, meant to be enjoyed. But, by being aware of their source, we can be free enough to accept the very real limits that life puts on our desires. And better still, we need not fear death since what we lose will be trumped one-hundredfold by what we gain.”

Christianity teaches us that our world is holy and that everything is matter for sacrament. In this view, the universe manifests God’s glory, and humanity is made in God’s image. Our bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, our food is sacramental, and in our work and sexual embrace, we are co-creators with God. This is high theology, a symbolic hedge that dwarfs what is found in virtually every other religion and philosophy. Our responsorial psalm today comes from Psalm 19, which proclaims that the Lord is the “rock” of salvation by his virtue of universal dominion. The glory of God is made manifest to all by the sun and divine Law. The Christian reader can see in the preaching of the Gospel the definitive revelation of this glory. The psalmist says that he can see the greatness of God because the whole world, he proclaims poetically, can also see it because it speaks without words through the succession of days and nights. Fr. Rolheiser writes that the problem is that, most times, our daily lives are so dram, distracted, and fixed upon realities that seem so base that it makes this idea that “everything is a sacrament” seem to be an adolescent fantasy. That is because we have lost the sense that the world is holy and that our eating, working, and making love are sacramental. We no longer connect ourselves, our world, and our eating and making love to their sacred origins. In not making this connection, our prayer, and ritual fall short. Fr. Rolheiser admits, “I am not sure what the solution is. The ways of the past, for better and for worse, are not our ways. But we must find a way…a way to connect our eating and drinking, working and making love, to their sacred origins. The joylessness of so much that should bring us joy can tell us as much.”

We are challenged as Christians to remain in Christ so that we can bear good fruit. When we are rooted in Christ, we are the same inside as outside – we are a person of integrity who is believable and will bear much fruit that can be harvested. As a disciple of the Lord, I have often felt that the fruit of our life should result from attaining the perfection of love we are called to live out. I feel very blessed to catch what I think is a “glimpse” of this perfection when I watch my new granddaughter as she becomes absolutely at peace in her mother’s arms. At this point in her life, no place in the world brings her this kind of security, peace, and love. This is the perfection of love God desires and provides us when we humble ourselves like a little child. This is the most amazing teaching to take into each day as an example of how the perfection of love, this path of holiness we are called to, is within reach of anyone willing to do God’s will in love at each successive moment as life unfolds, surrendering themselves into God’s providence. The closer we get to living out life in this manner, the more our life’s tree will bear its intended fruit of love. This lived praxis is the greatest testament to others of the truth, happiness, and joy obtained in living a life centered on being the light and love of God.

The most important choices in life have consequences. When we choose one path, we refuse another—maybe several others. At the time, we can rationalize: “If this is a mistake, I can always turn back later.” But that rarely happens, as the traveler in Robert Frost’s poem The Road Not Taken knew well: “Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.” Scripture often describes life as a choice between two ways. The teaching today by Jesus takes the form of broad and narrow pathways. His use of the broad and narrow paths is a straightforward, black-and-white view of our human conduct that focuses on the outcome of our decisions. Our lives depict the relationship between our choices and the consequences they bring us. We often lie to ourselves by seeing this reasoning as too simplistic. That is usually because of the lens we view life through that only sees things in shades of grey. So we either decide to follow God’s way or our own way, and there is a great difference between the two. One thinks, for example, of the Garden of Eden. Adam and Eve had to decide between the way of obedience and the way of disobedience, symbolized by the Tree of Life and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil that threatened death. Lest we forget, God did not send his Son into the world to condemn it but so that the world might be saved through him. God gave us the freedom to choose to wear the light of Christ or the shroud of the darkened world. The choice is and always will be ours to make.

Today’s reading from Matthew’s Gospel has Jesus’ instruction forbidding us to judge and condemn the heart. No one has access to the hidden intentions that animate another’s actions, nor can one know another’s level of culpability as determined by their circumstances and their level of moral or religious instruction. Karla Manternach relates her transformation in applying our selected focus verse today, “The measure with which you measure will be measured out to you.” My daughter used to get a star each time she remembered to bring her lunchbox home from school. We used star charts when she was also struggling to build other new skills. Recently she made one for me. She wasn’t the only one struggling – I was too. Although I knew how hard she was trying, I kept losing my temper when she failed to write down an assignment or forgot to turn in her work. “You always say you’re sorry after you yell at me,” she said, “but I don’t want ‘sorry.’ I want you to stop yelling.” It was humbling to hear that. I’d wanted to stop for a long time. I even thought I had tried everything: walking away, taking deep breaths, counting to ten. Now she gives me a star for every day that I keep my cool. Being accountable to her in such a concrete way has given me the push I needed to change. Lord Jesus, I am far from perfect. Please help me to change what I can.

In these ever-changing times, many look backward for comfort and direction. They say that the world’s ills, and especially the churches, would be better served if our preaching advised that the truth is real sin exists and that there are real and eternal consequences for sin. The gate to heaven is narrow, and the road to hell is wide. So why aren’t we preaching more about the dangers of hellfire? Fr. Rolheiser writes that threats work. Fear of divine punishment and fear of hellfire, admittedly, can be effective as a motivator. But he goes on to say that this is wrong. “It’s hard to be intimate friends with a God who frightens you. And you don’t enter a love relationship because you feel afraid or threatened. You enter a love relationship because you feel drawn there by love. The God Jesus incarnates and reveals is not a God who puts sincere, good-hearted people into hell against their will based on some human or moral lapse which, in our moral or religious categories, we deem a mortal sin. For example, I still hear this threat being preached sometimes in our churches: If you miss going to church on Sunday, it’s a mortal sin, and should you do that and die without confessing it, you will go to hell. What kind of God would underwrite this kind of belief? What kind of God would not give sincere people a second chance, a third one, and seventy-seven times seven more opportunities if they remain sincere? What kind of God would say to a person in hell: ‘Sorry, but you knew the rules! You’re repentant now, but it’s too late. You had your chance!’ The God we believe in as Christians is infinite understanding, compassion, and forgiveness. God’s love surpasses our own, and if we, in our better moments, can see the goodness of a human heart despite its lapses and weaknesses, how much more so will God do this?” Thomas More’s last words before King Henry VIII executed him are instructive: “I die the King’s good servant, but God’s first.” Thomas More did fear someone. He had that holy fear that the Bible speaks of often, the fear of the Lord. He feared losing the intimacy and friendship with God. Compared to that, everything else was straw.

“What, then, will this child be?” Every parent has probably repeated this verse at some point in their child’s life. Our hopes and aspirations come to the forefront of our minds as we wonder what might become of a son or daughter coming into this world. We might hope that our children will feel deeply loved or will have the opportunity to fulfill their dreams, or they will walk in the way of faith. I know these are things that we hoped for our children. But what were the hopes of Zechariah and Elizabeth? Today we read that Elizabeth, the wife of Zechariah, is about to give birth to a son. They had been blessed to know that they would have a son, what his name would be, and what his life would be dedicated to. Of course, when Zechariah heard this from the angel Gabriel, he was in disbelief. Wouldn’t you be just as doubtful? My wife and I were happy that our children came out healthy with ten fingers and ten toes. But our lesson today is, like Zechariah, who was in disbelief of what Gabriel was telling him, we can also be confronted with teachings we do not like, or have our hearts tugged by the spirit to step out in faith, or for deeper conversion on something God wants us to do. We must remember this lesson from Zechariah’s encounter and know that God accomplishes His will in any way he chooses. As His children, ours is to be obedient to his call, to quiet our hearts, and then to ask him to help us understand more fully the reality he wants us to enter into. Like Zechariah, we have been promised that the Lord will bless our trust and obedience when we step out in faith. 

Br. Guy Consolmagno writes that humility is essential to his life as an astronomer. “After all, in the face of this overwhelming universe—God’s creation—who could be proud? But even daily, I work in the company of many brilliant scientists; no ego could survive that. Likewise, within the company of saints, we soon learn to recognize that our own accomplishments are nothing to brag about. Another essential part of being an astronomer is the ability to say, “I don’t know.” It’s a great human temptation to pretend otherwise and act as though we have everything under control, but that’s never true. Worse, you’ll never try to learn more if you don’t admit what you don’t know. Truth is like an island. The more we know, the bigger the island, but the bigger the island, the longer the shoreline—the boundary where we encounter the vast ocean of what we don’t know. The more we know, the more we realize how ignorant we are. The same is true in our spiritual life. The better a person we are, the more we are aware of our shortcomings. So when St. Paul says that he “will boast of the things that show my weakness,” it is, in truth, a boast. He is good enough to recognize his weaknesses. Of course, when it comes to boasting, today’s Gospel reminds us of another advantage of bragging about our weaknesses: no thief will ever break in and steal them from us!

The Our Father is, without any doubt, the most commented-on passage in all Holy Scripture. No wonder the prayer Jesus taught is so dear to Christian hearts. The early Christians, guided by the precepts of salvation and following the divine commandment, centered their prayer life on this sublime and simple form of words given to them by Jesus. And the last Christians will certainly raise their hearts to say the Our Father for the last time when they are on the point of being taken to heaven. In the meantime, from childhood to death, the Our Father is a prayer that fills us with hope and consolation. Jesus fully realized how helpful this prayer would be to us. We are grateful to him for giving it to us, the apostles for passing it on to us, and our parents, especially our mothers, for teaching it to us in our infancy. St Augustine says that the Lord’s Prayer is so perfect that it sums up everything a person needs to ask God for in a few words. Let us, therefore, humbly petition the Lord with this prayer as we begin each day, centered on the One who is the great I AM.