Author: DVO

Why do we have this driven need to leave our mark on life? Why can’t we more easily embrace each other as sisters and brothers and rejoice in each other’s gifts and existence? Why the perennial feeling that the other is a rival? Why the need for masks, for pretense, to project a certain image about ourselves? Fr. Ron Rolheiser suggests the answer: We do all of these things to try to set ourselves apart because we are trying to give ourselves something that only God can provide us with – significance and immortality. Scripture tells us that “faith alone saves.” That simple line reveals the secret: Only God gives eternal life. Preciousness, meaning, significance, and immortality are free gifts from God, and we would be much more restful, peaceful, humble, grateful, happy, and less competitive if we could believe that. A humble, ordinary life, shared with billions of others, would then contain enough to give us a sense of our preciousness, meaning, and significance. Today’s reading from James speaks to another aspect of faith. A well-meaning Christian once asked the famed psychologist Fritz Perls if he was saved. He responded by saying, “I am still trying to figure out how to be spent!” St. Theresa of Avila suggests that we’re mature in following Christ if our questions and concerns no longer have a self-focus: Am I saved? Have I met Jesus Christ? Do I love Jesus enough? These questions remain valid, but they’re not meant to be our primary focus. Our real question needs to be: How can I be helpful? A non-negotiable part of meeting Jesus means being sent out and not alone on some private spiritual quest or individualized ministry. It means being called into community, into a church, and then sent out with others to walk inside of mess and failure, misunderstanding and crucifixion, confusion and tiredness, darkness, and God’s seeming silence, and wondering sometimes if you will indeed find a stone upon which to lay your head. Simply put, we show our love for God and our intimacy with Jesus by laying down our lives for our neighbor. Christian discipleship is never only about Jesus and me, even as it is always still about Jesus and me. Our life is not about us; it’s about others and God. That’s the path of agape, the path of ultimate love that Jesus showed us.

Today, in union with the whole Church, we celebrate the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross. The cross is central to our faith as followers of Jesus. It is through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus that we are saved and forgiven. It is through his suffering death on the cross and his rising to new life that we are given the gift and promise of everlasting life. There is no Easter Sunday without Good Friday – there is no Resurrection without Jesus dying on the cross. Fr. Ron Rolheiser writes that what the cross of Christ reveals is that when we are so paralyzed by fear and overcome by darkness that we can no longer help ourselves, when we have reached the stage where we can no longer open the door to let light and life in, God can still come through our locked doors, stand inside our fear and paralysis, and breathe out peace. The love that is revealed in Jesus’ suffering and death, a love that is so other-centered that it can fully forgive and embrace its executioners, can precisely pass through locked doors, melt frozen hearts, penetrate the walls of fear, and descend into our private hells and, there, breathe out peace. Brother Michael Moore writes that this wonderful feast is not meant to glorify or celebrate suffering or pain. When we think of the cross, our first thoughts may be uncomfortable or even negative. Over the centuries many great artists have tried to capture the reality of the crucifixion. Some of these paintings, amazing though they are, graphically show the pain that Jesus endured when he was crucified. They are not easy to look at. However, at the heart cross, we can see the fullness of life and love so profound that no darkness can overcome or defeat it. Through the cross of Jesus, God says to each of us, “I love you with an everlasting love, I call you by your name you are mine, do not be afraid”. 

Jesus took the twelve apostles to one of the northernmost places he had ever ventured, Caesarea Philippi, which was a hub for the worship of false gods. Jesus had taken His followers to the epicenter of enemy territory. Jesus asked them, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” That was easy. The disciples shared the gossip. But then, Jesus got personal: “Who do you say that I am?” Peter, by this time, had become the de facto spokesman for the apostles. Peter spoke up: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God!” Sometimes I try to imagine the gravity of that moment. Jesus had not been so pointed in His questioning of his disciples before this. Jesus was more than just a good teacher. He was, in fact, God in the flesh who had come as a man to fulfill His two-fold mission. The first part of that mission that only he would complete was to make redemption available to all people. The second part of His mission was to make disciples who would make disciples and begin a movement that would change the world. When Peter spoke those words, Jesus was confident that these twelve followers were now ready to move to the final phase of their training: following Jesus wherever he led, to the point that their lives looked like his. And that is our calling today, each in their own way, to be the light and love of Christ to a very disordered world.

In today’s reflection verse from the Gospel of Luke, Jesus tells us: “The measure you measure out is the measure you will be given.” Another way of putting this is “the air you breathe out is the air you will re-inhale.” If that’s true, Fr. Ron Rolheiser writes that it would explain many things, though not necessarily to our liking. Fr. Rolheiser says we are perennially caught up in pettiness, jealousy, and a lack of forgiveness. Why are we inhaling so much bitter air? Perhaps it has to do with the air we’re breathing out. What are we breathing out? Mary Jo Leddy, in her excellent book “Radical Gratitude,” claims that one of the great principles innate within reality itself is this: “The air you breathe into the universe is the air that it will breathe back, and if your energy is right, it will renew itself even as you give it away.” We’d like, of course, to think that we’re breathing out the air of gratitude, generosity, forgiveness, honesty, blessing, self-effacement, joy, and delight. We’d also like to believe that we are breathing out the air of concern for the poor, the suffering, the unattractive, the bothersome. And, we’d like to think too that we’re big-hearted people, breathing out understanding and reconciliation. Would it be nice if that was the true reality of our lives? The real air we’re breathing out is fraught with self-interest, jealousy, competitiveness, pettiness, fear, and less-than-full honesty. And Jesus takes this even further when he adds: “To those who have much, even more, will be given; and from those who have little, even what they have will be taken away.” That sounds so unfair; the innate cruelty of nature and the survival of the fittest applied to the gospels. But Jesus is only challenging the reality of our humanness and inability to be true love, agape love to others. To the big of heart, who breathe out what’s large and honest and full of blessing, the world will return a hundredfold in kind, honesty and blessing that swells the heart even more. Conversely to the miserly of heart and dishonesty of spirit, the world will give back too in kind, pettiness, and lies that shrink the heart still further. That’s the deep mystery at the center of the universe: The air we breathe out into the world is the air we will re-inhale.

Blessed are you…Clarence Jordan writes that he has tried everywhere to find an English word that would actually translate this Greek word makarios. Some translate it as “happy.” Some translate it as “fortunate.” Some translate it as “blessed.” All those elements are in this word but they still do not fully contain it. It really means to be in a relationship, not a state of joy or happiness, but in a relationship. It means to have the deep security that comes from loving and being loved. It means to have the deep soul-satisfying experience of being in a fellowship of which you feel that you are a part and you’re carried along with it. To be in union with God and with the other brothers on the team. It’s the joy of being on a team that’s playing and going somewhere. It isn’t just fortunate or happy or blessed. It’s deeper, much deeper than that. Jordan goes on to say, “I just don’t know an English word that will translate it. I translated it, ‘to be God’s people,’ that is, to be in a fellowship of brethren who both love one another and love God. That is the joy. That is the blessing that’s talked about here.”

Paige Byrne Shortal reflects on today’s Gospel as she speaks to the nature of seeing potential in people. When her sons were teenagers, they invited their pastor over for dinner, and during his visit, they gave him a tour of their rooms. Now these were typical boys who struggled to keep the room from being messy and of course, it was during the pastor’s visit. But something interesting happened. After he made the tour, he spoke of “how cool” one of them was. Paige couldn’t believe anything was cool in those “pig sty’s.” Later she went up to look for herself and for the first time saw what the pastor saw. Every inch of the wall and ceiling was covered with cartoons, paintings, quotes in calligraphy, and her son’s own photographs. Paige learned that it is important to see beyond the dirty laundry of our lives. Consider how ill-suited the Twelve were for the job of apostleship. Yet Jesus saw something in them – he saw their potential. It’s so very important for the potential to be noticed by the right person – the teacher, the counselor, the coach, or the pastor or parent. It can make all the difference in someone’s life. 

Jesus tells us that we were not made for the sabbath; the sabbath was made for us. Simply put, the sabbath prefigures the end times, the world that is to come, and heaven. The precept to keep the sabbath holy asks that we, individually and collectively, regularly have a sabbatical (notice the root of that word) by stopping our normal work and activities to try to taste a little of what the final state will be like. We stop work once a week not just to rest and worship God but also to forgive debts and to bring ourselves more into a general sympathy with everything. To observe the sabbath means to cancel debts, to forgive others, and to let go of our hurts. Observing the Sabbath is a critical observance, both religiously and psychologically. Unless we pull back from our everyday lives regularly, one day a week, and rest, worship, and forgive, we lose perspective on what is essential and become compulsive, driven persons caught up in the rat race. Likewise, we become ambitious, greedy, and resentful, unable to pray, forgive, and enjoy life. It is no accident that today, as Sunday observance is slipping, we find ourselves ever more trapped and pressured, always behind, unable to rest, and unable to delight in the deep joys of life. What this means is that we are not observing the sabbath. The Sabbath is our day. Once a week, we have a chance to taste a wee bit of heaven: to rest, worship God, forgive each other, and feel more sympathy with all things.

Here is a series of thoughts from Mark Comer’s book Practicing the Way – Be with Jesus; Become like him; Do as he did, and what we should be doing as “fools for Christ.”

Most people think they will grow to be more like Jesus through trying hard rather than through training hard when the exact opposite is true. You don’t run a marathon by trying hard, you do it through training. Training, not trying, is the secret to becoming more like Jesus. What do monks do in a monastery? They fall and get up again, fall and get up again.

You cannot apprentice under Jesus and not have it interfere with your life. To follow Jesus requires that you leave something behind. For Peter, it was fishing nets. What is it for you? Following Jesus will cost you, but not following him will cost you more, that is, it will cost you happiness and peace. Quoting missionary/martyr, Jim Eliot: “He is no fool who gives up what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose.”

Our generation is witnessing a cosmic shift in human history, the shift from the industrial revolution to the digital world. The digital age has us more connected than ever before. But sociologists tell us that we are the loneliest generation ever. Could the way forward be as simple as meeting people in the place of pain? Regarding the use of electronic media: Choose your own constraints or they will be chosen for you.

Nine rules of life for Practicing the Way: (1) Practice Sabbath in a culture of hurry and exhaustion. (2) Practice solitude in a culture of anxiety and noise. (3) Practice prayer in a culture of distraction and escapism. (4) Practice community in a culture of individuality and superficiality. (5) Practice scripture in a culture of ideological infection and compromise. (6) Practice fasting in a culture of indulgence. (7) Practice generosity in a culture of consumerism. (8) Practice service in a culture of injustice and division. (9) Practice hospitality in a culture of hostility.

Here is a series of thoughts from Mark Comer’s book Practicing the Way – Be with Jesus; Become like him; Do as he did, and what we should be doing as “fools for Christ.”

– Most people think they will grow to be more like Jesus through trying hard rather than through training hard when the exact opposite is true. You don’t run a marathon by trying hard, you do it through training. Training, not trying, is the secret to becoming more like Jesus. What do monks do in a monastery? They fall and get up again, fall and get up again.

– You cannot apprentice under Jesus and not have it interfere with your life. To follow Jesus requires that you leave something behind. For Peter, it was fishing nets. What is it for you? Following Jesus will cost you, but not following him will cost you more, that is, it will cost you happiness and peace. Quoting missionary/martyr, Jim Eliot: “He is no fool who gives up what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose.”

– Our generation is witnessing a cosmic shift in human history, the shift from the industrial revolution to the digital world. The digital age has us more connected than ever before. But sociologists tell us that we are the loneliest generation ever. Could the way forward be as simple as meeting people in the place of pain? Regarding the use of electronic media: Choose your own constraints or they will be chosen for you.

– Nine rules of life for Practicing the Way:

1. Practice Sabbath in a culture of hurry and exhaustion.
2. Practice solitude in a culture of anxiety and noise.
3. Practice prayer in a culture of distraction and escapism.
4. Practice community in a culture of individuality and superficiality.
5. Practice scripture in a culture of ideological infection and compromise.
6. Practice fasting in a culture of indulgence.
7. Practice generosity in a culture of consumerism.
8. Practice service in a culture of injustice and division.
9. Practice hospitality in a culture of hostility.

All talk of the sacred is limited by our imaginations and our language. We are finite creatures trying to picture and talk about the infinite, an impossible task, by definition. We have no way of picturing the infinite or of adequately speaking about it. God, by definition, is ineffable, beyond conceptualization, beyond imagination, beyond language. The Christian belief that God is a trinity helps underscore how rich the mystery of God is and how our experience of God is always richer than our concepts and language about God. So, as Fr. Ron Rolheiser writes, any God who isn’t more intelligent, more powerful, and more enterprising than we are is not worth believing in, nor is any religion that doesn’t go beyond our imagination. Faith, if it is to have any depth and sustain us for long, has to ground itself, precisely, in something beyond our own imaginations and our own powers. God, by definition, is ineffable. Right off the top, that already tells us that everything we can imaginatively picture or rationally say about God is inadequate. Scripture tells us that we live, and move, and breathe, and have our being in God. We are in God’s womb, enveloped by God, and, like a baby, we must first be born (death as our second birth) to see God face to face. That’s faith’s darkness. John of the Cross submits that the deeper we journey into intimacy, the more we will begin to understand by not understanding than by understanding. Our relationship with God works in the same way. Initially, when our intimacy is not so deep with God, we feel that we understand things and we have firm feelings and ideas about God. But the deeper we journey, the more those feelings and ideas will begin to feel false and empty because our growing intimacy is opening us to the fuller mystery of God. Paradoxically this feels like God is disappearing and becoming non-existent. Faith, by definition, implies a paradoxical darkness, the closer we get to God in this life, the more God seems to disappear because overpowering light can seem like darkness.