Author: DVO

During Lent, we apprentice to Jesus in his forty-day sojourn in the desert. The Spirit drives holy people into the desert because it is the place where the divertissements disappear. The action arrives at the end of the Lord’s fast because a decision follows clarification. Jesus provokes the stark choice: “Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters.” This clarification leads Jesus to begin his mission; immediately after the temptations, he gathers his disciples around him and commences the ministry that will reach its culmination only on the cross. The Lenten lesson is learning to rid ourselves of divertissements, going a bit hungry and thirsty, and purposely running on empty so that the great questions may be asked with clarity. Let us allow the devil to come, tempting us with the love of pleasure, the ego, and power. For in passing through temptation, we reach decisions. And in the desert with Jesus the Master, let us realize that we too are people on a mission because decision brings about identity.

Today’s reflection verse comes from the beginning section of the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus has symbolically established himself as the new Moses, giving a law upon a mountain. Spiritual Director Terri Mifek writes that those who see Jesus as a radical social reformer interested only in bringing about change will find the first half of today’s reading challenging. Those who find comfort and security in following the letter of the law may find the last half of his statement mystifying. In our search for a meaningful and relevant spirituality to our time, it is easy to get caught up in factions that emphasize one extreme or the other. But in Jesus, we can see a beautiful balance of embracing what is good and challenging and what is not yet fully aligned with God’s will. Jesus exemplified discipleship in modeling the incarnational life through his interactions with humanity in tangible, visible ways so that we could also become his hands and feet to one another. We must be in communion and community with him to manifest this incarnational expression of Jesus. Christian spirituality is always as much about dealing with each other as it is about dealing with God. The greatest commandments are to love God and love our neighbor. It takes our daily effort to live out these commandments, enabling us to reach our ultimate fulfillment in life, being the light of the love of God to the world.

We live in the age of the “therapeutic culture,” where only our own truth and feelings matter. It is a culture that has a “religion without grace.” Hence, our culture sees forgiveness more negatively than positively. It sees forgiveness as allowing oppression to maintain its power, thus permitting the cycle of violence and abuse. The moral pressure to forgive is seen as a further burden on the victim and an easy escape for the perpetrator. Fr. Ron Rolheiser asks, “Is this logic correct?” From a purely emotional point of view, he says “yes,” it feels right; but it is wrong when scrutinized more deeply. Vindictiveness will only produce more vindictiveness. Only forgiveness can take violence and hatred out of a relationship. Jesus sees forgiveness as the most important of all virtues, as it decides whether we go to heaven or not. When Jesus teaches us the Lord’s Prayer, its words tell us that if we fail to forgive others, God will not be able to forgive us. Why? Because, to sit at the banquet table of eternal life, only those willing to sit down with everyone can take a seat. God cannot change this. Only we can open our hearts sufficiently to sit down with everyone. If there is a litmus test for Christian Discipleship, it is our ability to forgive from the heart.

The psalmist today speaks to a longing for God. Fr. Ron Rolheiser writes that everything that is beautiful and attractive, however earthy and sexual, is contained inside of God. God is the creator of all that is beautiful, attractive, colorful, sexual, witty, brilliant, and intelligent. All that we are attracted to on this earth, including the beauty that allures us sexually, is found inside of God, and our attraction and longing for it here on earth are, in the end, a longing for God. But we never really understand this. If we did, we would, like the saints and mystics of old, become obsessed with God instead of being obsessed only with what we find attractive here on earth. Some of us are obsessed with beauty, some of us are obsessed with finding a soulmate, some of us are obsessed with sex, some of us are obsessed with truth, some of us are obsessed with justice, and some of us are obsessed with the energy, color, and pleasures of this world. But very few of us are obsessed, or even much interested, in God, who is the author of beauty, sexuality, intimacy, truth, justice, energy, color, and pleasure. Why aren’t we more interested in the One of which these things are only a pale reflection?

Our responsorial psalm invites us to be one with the Father through the redemptive actions of his Son, Jesus. We heard the story of the Prodigal Son earlier this week and now turn to the story of the Samarian Woman at the Well. The Prodigal Son spoke to two natures exemplified by the two sons: one son who does it all right in his obedience but is wrong in understanding Godly love and the nature of forgiveness and the other son who does it all wrong in his gluttonous squandering but comes to understand God’s unending merciful love and forgiveness. Another type of forgiveness and love can be seen in the interchange between Jesus and the Samaritan woman. It would be easy for Jesus to consider the woman an unrepentant sinner, unworthy to be in his presence or speak with him. That would align with the historical dissonance between the Jews and Samaritans. And yet, Jesus neither condemns nor judges her; rather, he offers her his unconditional mercy, compassion, and love. He treats her as an equal without reservation or regard for her ethnicity, social status, or religious beliefs. The common thread in these stories is one of love and forgiveness. We are called to repentance, which for most of us involves forgiveness of actions taken or not taken. It’s a call of return; it’s a call of immersion in God’s love; it’s a call to begin anew.

Today’s responsorial psalm is a perfect introduction to the foundational nature of Lent that is seen in the Prodigal Son’s story of return and forgiveness. God pardons our iniquities, heals our ills, redeems our lives from destruction, and crowns us with kindness and compassion. Fr. Richard Rohr, reflecting on this amazing story, says, “The parable of the Prodigal Son has the power to change us because it names human relationships so perfectly. We see ourselves in both sons. We try to live our life apart and autonomously, and yet that leads to eventual alienation and unhappiness. Slowly we gather our truth and our identity. But we are also capable of being the older son who prides himself on his orthodoxy but who is unable to celebrate and enjoy a free gift. So, we end with an amazing story of one son who does it all right and is wrong, and another son who does it all wrong and is right!” At the parable’s end, we never learn whether the older son comes to the banquet, but we do know that the Father continues hoping that his son will come and not live in resentment or superiority toward the brother who has done it all wrong. This story is an invitation to all of us who have perhaps been faithful Christians, ‘older sons,’ that can now find a pathway to compassion and forgiveness in this season of Lent.

We, the people, the Church, and the world, are not the owners of this vineyard; we are tenants. As tenants, we are entrusted with caring for the vineyard, but everything we have as humans is on loan. Our lives are not about us. Nature, not just humanity, is being redeemed by Christ. The world has intrinsic meaning and value beyond what it means for us as humans. That means that nature has inherent rights, not just the rights we find convenient to accord it. That means that defacing or abusing nature is not just a legal and environmental issue; it’s a moral issue. We are violating someone’s intrinsic rights. Our relationship to mother-earth and the universe is the non-negotiable fact that the quest for community and consummation within God’s Kingdom (our journey towards heaven) is a quest that calls us not just to a proper relationship with God and with each other but also to a right relationship with physical creation. We are humans with bodies living on the earth, not disembodied angels living in heaven, and Christ came to save our bodies and souls. He came, as well, to save the physical ground upon which we walk since he was the same pattern upon which and through which the physical world was created.

Reflecting on today’s verse, Sister Joyce Rupp writes, “This past year, I’ve become more aware of the scenarios that crowd and clutter my mind, those imaginary settings in which I conceive of what someone might be thinking, feeling or planning to do. These scenarios waste a lot of my energy that could be spent on something worthwhile. The more I intentionally send those mental judgments on their way, the more quickly I become alert to them when they zoom into my mind. Booting them out with an inner smile becomes increasingly easy as I say, ‘Oh, here is my six thousand and five hundredth scenario.’ The word spoken to Jeremiah strengthens my resolve to recognize that I have neither the ability nor the right to ‘probe the mind and test the heart’ of another with my mental ruminations.”

In his great work, The Imitation of Christ, Thomas Kempis writes that many will always love Christ’s heavenly kingdom, but few will bear his cross. Many are awed by his miracles; few accept the shame of his cross. Decide then, like a good and faithful servant of Christ, to bear the cross of your Lord bravely. It was out of love that he was crucified for you. Drink freely from the Lord’s cup if you wish to be his friend. Leave your need for consolation to God. Let him do as he wills. On your part, be ready to bear sufferings and consider how in these sufferings lies your greatest consolation. Realize that to know Christ; you must lead a dying life. The more you die to yourself, the more you will live unto God. You will never enjoy heavenly things unless you’re ready to suffer hardship for Christ. Nothing is more acceptable to God, nothing more helpful for you on this earth. When there is a choice to be made, take the narrow way. That alone will make you more like Christ.

I have often told others, and most importantly told myself, that loving as the Lord taught us is the singularly hardest thing for a Christian to do. But that is because we fail to understand the humility one needs in life to understand, live, and give away love as Jesus did. Bishop Robert Barron notes humility is living out the deepest truth: God is God, and we are not. But Bishop Barron also readily notes that all of this sounds very clear when stated in the abstract, but man, is it hard to live out. In our fallen world, we forget so readily that we are creatures. We start to assume that we are gods, the center of the universe. Fr. Ron Rolheiser writes that we demonstrate humility when we live in the face of the fact that we are both dependent and interdependent. We are not ipsum esse subsistens, self-sufficient Being, God, nor the center of the earth, nor intended to be that center. Humility is centering on the reality that we can do nothing without God and should seek to do everything for the glory of God. It is not about us; it’s about Him.