Monday of the Fifteenth week in Ordinary Time

The readings today are a powerful reminder that as Christians we cannot be people who sit on the fence.   We have to throw all our chips on the table.    There are too many out there who want to believe that all they have to do is claim the title, "I am a Christian," without claiming the cross that comes with it.  The Psalm itself is clear in its meaning and expectation from God:

“Why do you recite my statutes,
and profess my covenant with your mouth,
Though you hate discipline
and cast my words behind you?”

We have to be a people different than those who do not know Christ.   He reminds us in His teachings in the Gospel today that we are expected to choose Christ first and foremost.  It means I have to pick up my cross and do as he did.    Being Christian is not just a statement.  It is not just a one-time confession and a mountaintop experience.   It is a constant state of conversion in which we move closer to God, become more like His Son, and through the grace of the Sacraments be transformed into little Christs. 

What should that look like?   Justice.   The Prophet said:

Put away your misdeeds from before my eyes;
cease doing evil; learn to do good.
Make justice your aim: redress the wronged,
hear the orphan’s plea, defend the widow.

One would think we had learned our lesson by now.   We still are learning.   Slowly.   That's what it takes to be a Saint though.  I have to become a worker for justice.  One who defends those without a voice.   One who finds what is wrong, and fixes it.    A person who looks for those who have none, and tries to help them.  Being Catholic isn't just a Sunday thing, it's a life thing.  It means continually learning to love as Jesus loved.   Loving every single person, and trying to make the world more like the Kingdom we pray to come every day at Mass. 


A reflection on the Readings for Monday of the Fifteenth Week in Ordinary Time

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B.

Change is hard for people.   They don't like it when things change.  So many times I have heard someone declare "That's it!  I'm going to church somewhere else."   Or the even more dramatic "I'm not going to come here till he is gone!"   That second one is often an excuse never to go there again.   Even when that person is gone, they don't come back.   The question is:  Why do we go to Church? 

We don't go to Mass for ourselves.   That's a very unpopular statement.  It isn't about getting something out of it, but about giving something back.  We go to Mass to worship Jesus Christ.   It is for Him and what He has done, is doing, and will do in the future, that we gather together and sing His praises.   So all of those statements:

"I don't like the music."
"The Pastor isn't nice."
"I can't understand that guy when he speaks."
"I just don't feel good when I am there."
"They changed the way we do this, and I think I'm leaving."

They all start with the wrong thing.  These statements all begin with self, I.   They forget that it's not about me.   It's about Him.   All of those things can be annoying to ourselves.   Sure, it's nice to have someone you understand and get along with in charge.   It's nice to get a recharge of our spiritual cup, which happens more often than not.   It is beautiful when the music is well performed and uplifting.  All of those things are good things, but they are not what it's about.

Is God's grace enough?  Saint Paul desired to rid himself of some nagging issue that he had with his body.   Some think maybe his eyesight was going or he was in chronic pain.   Regardless of what it was, it stayed there and annoyed him.   Those thorns in our Church homes?   What if they are there to sanctify us?   "Your grace is enough for me."   Why are you there?  Jesus?  Or yourself?  Is Jesus not enough?

The key to all of this is found in today's Psalm reading.   Humility.  Being able to not make it about you, and to remind yourself that God is in charge.  This community is our Parish home.   It is where he wants us.  There is no Church shopping in Catholicism.  You don't look for someone who agrees with you or with different beliefs, because we have one set of beliefs and One Church.    Are we humble enough to get out of the way and say: "This is my home, these are my spiritual family"?  Lord give us all a spirit of humility, which we might be able to look at the world the way you do.

Friday of the Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time, Year 2.

It is interesting to me that the readings for today are about famine and feasts.   For the last five days, I have consumed no food whatsoever.   Instead, I have been taking the money that I would have spent to buy food for me and putting it to the side.   When this week is over, I will send that money to a diocese in Africa where the children are starving and in great need.

I've learned a lot about myself and my relationship with food.   I think it's an American thing.   I was indeed reminded of that when Father Rogatus mentioned the massive serving sizes at the restaurant where some people took him for dinner.   At just one of our American style buffets, you'll find more food than many villages have for the entire population in a month.  That should remind us that we are not only blessed, but we are using our wealth in a way that is both unsustainable and uncharitable.

Matthew in the Gospel is an example of this.   To the Jewish people, he was the lowest of the low.  He made his money by taking from his people and giving to Rome.   They saw the tax collectors as horrible sinners, unreformable!   To their astonishment, he was one of the first to convert and became one of the twelve.    We have to keep in mind that even the outsider, maybe even more often the outsider, will often be the most important convert.

It reminds us that even though we aren't perfect, we are called to be Saints.   That shouldn't leave us feeling hopeless, as if the Saints of the Church put us to shame, but hope-filled!   We are called to do like Matthew and go forth and follow Christ, sitting down at the table with all of our brothers and sisters, sinners and Saints alike but not staying in our sin. Instead, we are called to lift ourselves up out of the muck of the world, reaching out for God's grace to become what he created us to be.

We can start in the smallest of ways.   We often see fasting as just a "Lent thing."   It should preferably be a part of our lives.   That doesn't mean you have to do water fasting like mine.   I would encourage you though to give up something, even if its just one coffee or one donut, and use the money there to feed some of our brothers and sisters who are less fortunate.  That way all of us can be at the table, and not just those who were lucky enough to be born in an affluent country.    It only takes a pebble to start an avalanche.   One dollar doesn't mean much to us here, but for many, that's precisely what they need to get food for just one day.

A reflection on the readings for July 6th, 2018, Friday of the Thirtenth Week in Ordinary Time

Take a stand!

When I was in college, I worked as a computer lab assistant.   It was my job to be there to make sure that anyone who needed to use a computer not only got the chance to do so but also to answer questions and make sure it was a peaceful experience for all.  One day a young girl was with what seemed to be her boyfriend using one of the terminals at the door.   He was abusive with his words.

"You're so stupid."

"I'm trying," she said.

"I've shown you a hundred times, you are just too dumb to do it, and I'm tired of it."

"I said I was sorry."

She was on the verge of tears, and he kept getting louder and more abusive.  After a few minutes, I had had enough.   The sad part was it took me a few minutes.   I should have come to her defense at the start of it.  Instead, I had to work up the courage to stand up and confront this guy.   The moment he saw me moving towards them he began to talk to the room.

"We are students in the psychology department.   This has been an experiment to see how people would react to someone being abusive to a female in public."   They went on to have us fill out questionnaires and such for their project. 

While this was just an experiment, it was a moment in which I learned something about myself and others.   No one came to her defense.   It took time before even me, a 6'5", 300 lb guy to stand up and do something about it.   I've always wished that I could go back and stand up for her, stand up for all the people in this world who have no voice.

On this the feast day of the nativity of Saint John the Baptist we are reminded that it is not too late to stand up for our faith.  He stood up to the king, Herod, and spoke the truth even to the expense of his own life.   Now, sure, you and I are probably not going to be martyrs.  It is very rare these days in the country we live in to be asked to die for our faith. 

So what then can we do?   We can die to ourselves.   Die to that person who is inside you wanting to remain in the comfort of your room.   Suppress that human tendency not to want to get involved and instead let Jesus work through us to make a change in this world, here and now.  Die to self, let God send His grace to others in you.   That's what the dismissal at Mass is all about.   "Go forth and glorify the Lord with your lives."   To that, we respond: "Thanks be to God."   That's not us saying "Thank God this is finally over."   It is rather us acknowledging that God has come to reside in us as Temples of the Holy Spirit and has given us the chance to be co-workers in the vineyard.

Are you ready to die to your wants and needs?   That for least among us; the widow, the orphan, the unborn, the immigrant, the homeless; we may bring the love and protection that God has to offer?   Speak for those who have no voice, speak with the voice of the Lord.  Our brothers and sisters are out in the world, and we have the opportunity to find them and bring them to the dinner table with us.  Are you standing up?   Or stay in your comfort zone?

A reflection on the readings for the Solemnity of the Nativity of John the Baptist.

God is mercy, God is love... but God is also Justice.

I was going to save the following homily for a future date.   The more I tried to write the more it felt as if I were making a sermon out of it, instead of giving the message God was trying to speak to me in the readings.  So here it is. 

My grandfather Jim had this beautiful farm in the mountains.  When he first got the land, it was nothing but weeds, rocks, and briars.  Over the years he slowly tamed that land.  There were big piles of stones in the forest that my brother and I used to climb on.  All of those rocks he had moved by hand out of the fields to prepare them.  It was such a beautiful place too.   Acres of manicured grass in the middle of the forests of Virginia.  An apple orchard, a grape arbor, a garden filled with vegetables, not to mention all the animals.  He would take us for a tour every time we came by.   Letting us hold the baby chickens, ducks, geese, and doves.  There was even this spectacular overlook that he had made with a firepit and some chairs.   You could sit and watch the sunset over the lake hundreds of feet below.  It was a beautiful place, a peaceful place. 

A few years ago my grandfather passed away, and my grandmother was placed in a home.  The executor of the estate sold the land to someone outside of the family, and things began to change.   We were no longer allowed to visit.  It wasn’t in the family anymore.  I could see it from my dad's house, less than a mile from his back porch.   There was a real sense of loss.  A sense of sadness that it was no longer ours.  It was now someone else’s.  I watched as other people walked those paths and climbed those rocks.  There was a pain in my heart that I can’t really describe in words.  Not jealousy.   Just longing.  I think that’s how the people must have felt in hearing this parable from Jesus.  Fear that they might go through something like that.  That they might long for something, they could never touch again. 

This parable could bring that same fear out in us, and maybe it should.   We too are now responsible for the vineyard of the Lord.  Just like my grandfather worked long, hard hours clearing the land to make it a beautiful place; we are supposed to be using the gifts we have been given to produce fruit.  Each of us is a unique person with our own set of talents.  We are supposed to use them to make this world a better place, to show God’s love for everyone in it.  How many times have we, like the people in the parable, been sent someone made in the image of Christ and treated them poorly?

Sure, we haven’t killed anyone.  We didn’t beat them or throw them out.   But what about with our words?   Have we ever beaten someone verbally?  Or killing their good name with slander?  Have we ever rejected someone who has asked for help?   Earlier we also said we can do wrong with our thoughts too.   Have we thought poorly of someone?   Been jealous or angry?  Annoyed that someone doesn’t do things the way we want or has some habit that just gets under our skin? I know at times I am guilty of all these things.  That parable doesn’t leave much hope.  It seems hard. 

How are we to make sense of it?   If God is mercy and love, how can he take away the vineyard?  He is mercy.  He is love, indeed.  So much so that here in a few minutes we are going to celebrate the gift that makes it possible for people so unworthy to stay working in the vineyard.  God has indeed sent His Son to us time and time again, in the Holy Eucharist.   Even though we continue to do exactly what they were guilty of, He gives us another chance. It’s as if he is saying “I am sending my son, surely they will treat him better this time.”  As the priest elevates the precious consecrated host in a few moments, realize that this right here is God saying to you “I want to see your fruit.” 

Again I say, God is mercy.  God is love.   But God is also justice.  Ronda Chervin once said “If you want to see the infinite love and mercy of God, look at Heaven.   If you want to see His Justice, look at Hell.”   Now, in this life, at this moment is the time to start producing a harvest. 

Monday of the Ninth Week in Ordinary Time

2 PT 1:2-7,  PS 91:1-2, 14-15B, 15C-16, MK 12:1-12

Happy Corpus Christi!

I went on a four-day men's weekend a few years ago.   It was a compelling experience.   During that weekend I began to realize just how much my wife meant to me.  At the end of the weekend, they had a closing ceremony.  She was there.  One of the men walked up to me after saying "I knew that was your wife, you never took your eyes off of her."   He's right.  There was a longing there, a love that wasn't just affection, but a realization that she was indeed my better half.   I just wanted to speak to her, spend time with her, and even hold her again.  It wasn't just physical; it was a deep spiritual connection that went beyond what we see and into a deeper reality.

In our modern world marriage is seen as something to do with feelings.   You see men and women getting divorces with the excuse of "I didn't feel the same anymore.  I don't love him/her."   We've lost the notion of just what the word covenant is.  Instead, we see it as a simple contract.    A covenant is not a contract.    In a contract, people exchange one thing for another.   You mow my yard, and I give you cash.   I install a light fixture for you and you clean my garage.   That's a contract.  Marriage is not a contract, though we have civil ones that protect people from abuse.  Marriage is a covenant.

In a covenant, people exchange each other.   I give you all of me, and you give me all of you.   It's all in.  100%.   It's not a 50/50 negotiation that ends with the other getting half of all you own.   It's a real sharing of yourself with someone else.    Jesus in today's readings reminds us that we are in a covenant with God.   "I will be your God, and you will be my people."  (Exodus 6:7).     That was His promise of a Covenant to the people of Israel.  Jesus came and gave us a New Covenant, one whose sign is the Eucharist.   Thinking about that should leave us awestruck.   God is offering you all of Himself, down to even the last drop of blood.   So much so that you can partake of His divine life and live forever!   That should blow our minds!

There is more though!   I will be your God, and you will be my people.   A covenant is not one-sided.   God did indeed do all of the work on the cross.   However, communion demands a response.    St. Paul says in one of his letters: "The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? ". (1 Corinthians 10:16) Then again he says "Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of profaning the body and blood of the Lord."  (1 Corinthians 11:27).     A more modern translation might read: "The Eucharist is indeed the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, if you take it in grave sin you could go to hell." 

No one can earn their way to heaven.  Faith though is a covenant in which He is our God, and we are His people.   That means we act a certain way, walk the walk and talk the talk.  People of a covenant look different.   A married man should act like a married man.   He shouldn't be off flirting with other women.   People should know by his very actions, words, and deeds that he is married.   That moment when the minister says to you "The body and blood of Christ," you are being reminded of this reality.  "You are His people, are you acting like it?"   Can you honestly say Amen to that? 

On this Feast of Corpus Christi, the Church reminds us to take time and make sure that we realize what we are doing at the table of the Lord and to rectify those things in our lives that are drifting away.   That way at the end of our lives we can say with honesty at the foot of the throne of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ: "All that the LORD has said, we will heed and do." (Exodus 24:7)

Into the Desert

I remember an episode of iCarly in which one of the young protagonists wants to meet the "fattest priest alive."    When they finally arrange for her to meet him before he can even come on screen, you hear the floor give way, and he presumably falls.   No one ever actually gets to see this record-setting priest.  Without a laugh track, I would imagine we probably wouldn't even laugh at the poor man falling through the floor.    The funny thing is: that episode always makes me very introspective about myself.

Several years ago I wrote a blog about the number of calories I must consume to gain a pound of weight.  It reminded me that at my highest weight, I had wasted at least enough food to feed a child in a starving country for over a year.    That is not counting the amount of weight I had lost and regained throughout those years of yo-yo dieting.  The current numbers say that more than half the people in the western world are obese.   If my math is correct, that means that there is enough excess fat in the United States alone to feed 9000 children for a year. 

Abba John the short once said: "If a king wants to take a city whose citizens are hostile, he first captures the food and water of the inhabitants of the city, and when they are starving subdues them.  So it is with gluttony.   If a man is earnest in fasting and hunger, the enemies who trouble his soul will grow weak."   During class, a Priest once told us that he had an addictive personality.   I would describe mine the same way.   Throughout my life, I replace one addiction with another.    From computer games to photography.   Each thing taken up for a time and then left behind.

The one thing that has always held my attention and has always been less of an addiction and more of a solution is God and his Word.    When I immerse myself in the Scriptures, I find fulfillment to all those desires that my body tries to make me think I have. I find peace of mind and soul.  I am not free of my gluttonous desires.  I see inside those words, inside the Church that God has established for us, answers to how to be free.   

"Wouldn't it be great if we had no fat deacons?"   I heard someone say this at one point.  At first, I was offended!   I, after all, have been overweight my entire adult life.   What does it portray to us though? It reveals to us men of prayer and fasting.  If all Catholics around the world were to devote actual time to prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, we would change the world! 

It has to begin with me.  I know that.  There is an irony to a man as large as myself encouraging others to pray and fast.   I have tried this Lent to fast in many different ways.  From water fasting to eating only one meal a day.  Some days have been more comfortable, some have been harder than anything I have imagined.   Saint Anthony of the Desert reminds us that we must go to the desert to find the place of discipline in ourselves.  The desert is the place that Hosea tells us God wants to take us to as well.  "Therefore, behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her." (Hosea 2:14 RSV-CE)

The desert is the place where Israel first encountered God.  It was their first intimate embrace, where the wedding covenant began, which Christ later fulfilled on the cross of Calvary.   He is our God, and we are His People.  That to me is what the right key is to learn to discipline ourselves.  It is returning to the place where we first met God, to those situations in my life where I encountered and relied on Him and Him alone.  The discipline of fasting allows me to remind my body that I don't need all of these things that my concupiscence tries causes me to desire.  Then I can truly listen for that still small voice crying out to me in the night. 

I am slowly learning to remove those things that get in my way of that desert experience.   I find some of the 'pruning' to be quite painful.  I got rid of my smartphone just recently after months of feeling a tug to do so.  It has not been pleasant.  I didn't even realize how much I was attached to this silly little cellular device.  What I have found though is a freedom I did not expect.  Will I go back to a smart device after Lent?   I am still unsure.  I am leaning towards no.  What I do know is that whatever I do, I will do it to grow closer to God. 

The sheep or the goats?

In the first reading for today, we see Moses receiving the Decalogue from God. These are the ten commandments. There are very few people that are not aware of the ten commandments. Even those who can honestly claim they are, have a natural understanding that things like murder, stealing, and cheating are inherently wrong. These are the bare minimum of what it takes to live together in harmony with one another and to show our love for God. Like any person trying to excel in their field though, the bare minimum isn't what we should be aiming for, is it? Jesus shows us in this parable in Matthew that we are to be aiming for love. He has expounded before that it isn't just not murdering, but not even hating. That if I entertain lustful thoughts I am as guilty of adultery as I would be where I actually to go out and do so. Our goal is to see every single person as an opportunity to encounter the image of God. The naked, the hungry, the thirsty, and those in prison. This list doesn't just mean those who are physically exposed, but also those who are spiritually vulnerable. Those who hunger for Christ in the Eucharist and do not know He is even there. Not just those physically incarcerated for crimes but those still chained in the shackles of sin. God calls us to do so much more than the minimum. Lent is a time to remind ourselves of this truth. It's an opportunity to find those who need spiritual and physical nourishment. A chance to extend the invitation to the most nourishing food available, the Eucharist. Both to those who have not received the waters of Baptism, those who are of another faith, and even those who have fallen away from the Catholic Church. If they are hungry, by all means, feed them! Clothe them! Give them drink! Then lead them to the sacred waters pouring from the throne of Jesus Christ. Lent is a time to remind ourselves that the bar is never the minimum. It is always higher than we can achieve alone. When we join ourselves to Him, to the Church that is His Body, then we can receive the Sacramental graces necessary to make a difference in this world. We are to seek out ways to apply the Gospel in love and kindness, leaving the Justice to the King Himself. That doesn't mean forgetting that sin exists. We should be all too aware of the reality of sin and of the spiritual battle we are fighting for our souls. What it does mean though, is reaching out as the hands and feet of Christ with mercy to those who are hurting just as much as we are. It has been popular in the last few decades to make fun of people for being "sheep." That's because sheep follow their shepherd. They listen and know His voice. Goats can be ornery and cantankerous. They do what they want, and they eat pretty much anything (even things that are bad for them.) Being one of the sheep who follows the Shepherd doesn't mean blind obedience, but it does mean listening to God's still small voice to help guide us through all the spiritual minefields we face in this life. Silence. How can we hear Him speak to us and tell us which side to stand on if we are surrounded by noise from screens, devices, and speakers? Take some time this Lent to silence the noise of the world and listen carefully for the Lord himself. A reflection on the readings for Monday of the First Week of Lent.

(click here for the readings)

Downgrading to Upgrade

Today was the First Sunday of Lent.  The readings speak of the familiar theme of Jesus going into the desert before beginning his public ministry.  In the desert, he fasted for forty days.  During that time Satan tempted him in ways that would have alleviated all of that suffering.   Satan even used scripture to try and get Jesus to fall into the trap.  Jesus always responded by using the rest of Scripture to show that God's will was not in align with Satans at all.  Satans was selfish; God's was love. 

As we journey into the desert this Lent we have to look and see what is between God and us.   Jesus consistently took time to go off alone in the silence to meet with God, to commune with Father.   In this world of screens and information, it's hard to find a moment's silence.   The internet is by far my worst crutch.  I have been using a computer on a daily basis since I was around eight years old.  When it comes to the willpower of just not doing it?  I fail miserably. 

So what did I do this year for Lent?   The same thing I did last year.   I significantly reduced my use of Social Media to spend that time instead with Jesus in prayer and meditation.   I realized last year though that my Smart Phone was a hindrance.  Instead of lowering my computer time I replaced it with blogs, bulletin boards, and silly games.  I took a drastic step.   I got rid of my smartphone.   I now carry an LG B470 flip phone. 

It doesn't do apps.   It barely will search the internet.  Texting is a pain.  There are so many things wrong with this phone that I could complain forever.  My first trip to town I realized that I couldn't check my calendar to see where I was supposed to be.   My habit of checking the Bank to see how much money we have before shopping is now something I have to remember before leaving the house.   Responding to email now has to wait until the evening or morning when I use my computer.
Why then am I feeling relief?   I have tethered myself to Christ.  I am no longer checking my phone every time it buzzes.   In a meeting, I have no need to look something up, either I remember it, or I don't.  I am not worried about getting likes or making sure to take a picture of my food before I consume it.  I have finished three books in just a few days and have gotten back on track for the time being with my prayer life.  This small change has made me wonder if I'll ever go back to being a smartphone user again.

The one thing that I have found myself blessed to be able to say is: "No I haven't heard about that!"  In a world where all of the information is at your fingertips, how much news did I not already hear?  How many conversations did I miss because I had already heard all about it or seen that meme ages ago?  My friend said to me in an email that I seem to care when someone is talking to me.  I don't want that go away.   So this is my Lent, my journey into the desert with Jesus, a mission to begin to listen to God speak to me not only in the silence but in each person I encounter. 

Technology is a powerful tool.  I am far from a Luddite.  I have even been called a technophile from time to time.  I think enhanced reality devices are the future.   The problem is we aren't enhancing our reality with smartphones.   Instead, we are replacing reality with images and false narratives.  Yes, this Lent I am putting down the phone so that I can see the real you.   The real Jesus in you!  Hopefully, somewhere along the road, you will be able to see him in me.
His servant and yours,
Brian Mullins

February 18th, 2018
First Sunday of Lent
Lectionary: 23
GN 9:8-15
PS 25:4-5, 6-7, 8-9
1 PT 3:18-22
MK 1:12-15

An Ill Fitting Suit

In today's first reading we begin to see the fall of the Kingdom of Israel from grace. Solomon started taxing the people tremendously and working them harder and harder to keep up with his lavish lifestyle. His Harem was so enormous that it numbered in the thousands. Those women were not just children of Israel but Gentiles as well. The Israelites had a long-standing rule not to marry or associate with people outside of their own precisely because it often led to concessions in the faith. Solomon began to make those small changes until eventually, he was building altars for foreign gods for his wives to worship their way.
The kingdom fell, and that eventually led to the captivity in Babylon. A divided Israel was unable to defend itself. The people were taken once again as slaves to a foreign kingdom. When King Cyrus let the Israelites go back to their homeland and begin rebuilding Jerusalem, they did not forget the past. Those people who were not of Israel were taboo. Even those Israelites who decided they liked it in Babylon and did not return to Jerusalem were outcasts. Them. The other. Out of fear for another captivity and an attempt to remain in a pure relationship with their God, they became even more xenophobic.
That makes the scene in today's Gospel that much more pronounced. Jesus reminds her that he has come to save the Israelites, to offer them the Kingdom first and all that comes with it. Her faith though moves him to compassion. He extends his power, not with some mystical and magical touch, but through time and space to heal the daughter wherever she may be. Jesus shows us that the Kingdom will include all people. The walls of hatred and division will be thrown down. Racial heritage will no longer matter. All people will have the opportunity to be invited to the wedding, and all can receive the healing that Christ comes to offer.
It's not as simple as that though. In the parable of the wedding feast, Christ reminds us that we must begin by getting dressed for the wedding. What kind of garment should we be looking to find? I was just trying on the suit from our wedding 11 years ago. It's huge! It doesn't fit well. I'd have to have it tailored and drawn in if it's even possible. The suit we need for the wedding though is one that conforms to the image of Christ. It's Christ himself. We have to be washed by the blood of the lamb and begin to try and live our lives in emulation of Him.
How can we do that in this world of temptations and trials? Through the Sacraments that He established to give us the grace necessary to live a life of virtue. That is the life God created us to live. That is the garment we need to be wearing! The more we grow in relationship to Christ, the more we receive Him in the Sacraments, the more we become like him. Then we can safely enter that feast at the end of our lives where He will say, well done my good and faithful servant. A reflection on the readings for Thursday of the Fifth Week in Ordinary Time. February 8th, 2018. Lectionary: 332 1 KGS 11:4-13 PS 106:3-4, 35-36, 37 AND 40 MK 7:24-30

Why do we do these things?

I see many people criticize the Church. They claim that all of the rules are 'manmade' and that none of this outward stuff can make a difference. That's not what Jesus had to say about the matter. Jesus instructed the people about the Scribes and Pharisees, saying: "The scribes and the Pharisees have taken their seat on the chair of Moses. Therefore, do and observe all things whatsoever they tell you, but do not follow their example. For they preach, but they do not practice." (Matthew 23:2-3 NAB) He then went on to establish Peter his 'Prime Minister' to guide his Church until the day when he returns.

How then are we to take this reading from the Gospel today in which Jesus says: "Nothing that enters one from outside can defile that person, but the things that come out from within are what defile." (Mark 7:14-15 NAB) If nothing that enters me from the outside can defile me, then nothing from outside can make me Holy either. What Jesus came to destroy was not religion itself, but the hollow practice of it that does not involve an internal change.

The Pharisees knew what to do, and they did the external things, but their hearts never changed. They made up all these rules that were hard to follow, and they had the authority to do so and then didn't live up to them in their own lives. That's why Jesus called them "whitewashed tombs." In public, they gave the appearance of men who had been reformed by the love of God, but internally they were still the same hateful men they had always been. Often using the law itself to avoid doing the good they knew to do.

How then should we live our lives? Solomon was the wisest of all men. His kingdom was the most prosperous kingdom in the Israelite history, rivaling even that of his father, David. It was when Solomon began to pull his heart away from God toward other things that it all started to fall apart. Civil war broke out and the kingdom fell apart. Our own lives will do the same. As long as we put God first, everything will be as it should be. When we allow anything to get in the place that God should be, our soul becomes a battleground. It's not a battle we can win on our own.

That's why Jesus gave us the Sacraments. That is why God gave us a Church. A place of refuge in this war where we can gain the strength and grace we need to continue fighting. Then he gave us Sacramental signs to use in our daily lives. Sacred Scripture, the sign of the cross, holy water, the rosary, and scapulars to name a few. These, however, are not magic amulets or incantations. When we use them, we must also have a change of heart, a metanoia. That's what Confession is all about. That is also what the season of Lent reminds us to do. Are you thinking about that yet? How can you change the inside so that when we do these external signs and symbols, when we receive the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, we can get out of the way and let Him change us?

A reflection on the readings for Wednesday of the Fifth Week in Ordinary Time Lectionary: 331

1 KGS 10:1-10 PS 37:5-6, 30-31, 39-40 MK 7:14-23

Caging the Beast.

Our society has done a fantastic job of convincing us that we are created to be a sinful and vice-filled people.   "I'm a Christian, but I cuss a little."   "He's a good person; he just does some drugs on the weekends."   "No one is perfect."   All of us have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.   That's the truth.   That is not who you are.  You were not created to be a sinner; you were designed to be a Saint.  Our concupiscence is a reality that we must learn to live with, but it's also something we must put in a cage. 

There is an old Indian tale about a man who was watching two wolves fighting with his son.   The father looked at the son and said: "There are two wolves at war inside you as well.   The one that wishes for the good, and the one that wishes for evil."  The son asked in fear "Which one will win?"  The father replied, "The one you feed." 

We all have that same war going on inside of us, but the truth that we must realize is that one voice is our authentic self and the other are doubts brought to us by those who wish to keep us from ever achieving it.  The Scriptures today remind us of that calling from God to become Saints.   We are the temple of God.  We are created for virtue and not vices.   Work to silence that voice, to cage those personal demons that keep making excuses.  Then live a sacramental life. 

I am far from perfect.   I make mistakes, and yes, I often fail to silence those voices.    That is why God has given us so many opportunities for grace in His Church.   Take advantage of them as often as you can!  A life of virtue is not a boring one as the secular world would have you believe!   It is instead a life filled with the fullness of what it means to be alive, the fullness of what it means to be human.   That is to be more like Christ, and much less like our flesh would convince us we are supposed to be. 

This is a reflection on the readings for Wednesday, January 14th, 2018: The Second Sunday in Ordinary Time. 

The Good Shepherd

So many of us take the simple gift of a community for granted. In a world where it is encouraged and lauded to spend more time in virtual communication than in face to face interactions, it is tough for us to understand the leper in today's Gospel. This man was isolated from society. If any other person approached him, he was required to shout "Unclean, unclean." To be touched by another who was not also unclean was not to be expected, and was believed to make the other just as dirty (sinfully) as the leper himself.

Jesus on the other hand not only touches him but heals him of his disease. Then instructs him to tell no one but rather go to the established religious authorities and begin the slow process of reconciliation with the community. We can interpret many things from this. One might think that Jesus intended to remind us that we should go to the Church/Community to help integrate us more fully into the body of Christ after being absent. Then again maybe he was indicating that the process would only be complete when he was both physically and spiritually clean. Some would even say that Jesus did not want the people to know about his Messianic secret yet.

The one thing we know for sure from the reading of the Scriptures is that the man didn't listen to Jesus and his instructions. He instead made it easier for himself (the Leper) to be a part of the community, but at the same time, more difficult for Jesus to enter towns and complete His mission. We have been talking about the title of Christ, the Good Shepherd, and it's biblical meaning in Bible study today. How appropriate that both readings had to do with listening to God instead of treating him like an ATM.

The first reading shows the Israelites parading God's ark about like a talisman. They didn't ask God for help, nor for guidance. Instead, they merely went to get their magical amulet to make things better. The Leper didn't follow God's instructions and go to the temple to be purified. Instead, he chose to go on his way and hindered God Himself in the process. Are we letting God shepherd us? Or are we trying to shepherd God? Do we listen when God speaks to us through the Church? Through the Magisterium? Through the Scriptures and the Catechism? Or are we choosing what we will believe regardless of what God has revealed? Do we see God as a good luck charm only when we need it? Or is He indeed the Lord of our lives? When you use the gift of voice God has given you, are your words shouting unclean or pointing to Christ?

All things that are going through my mind this morning as I begin to do some work around the house. I'll leave you this morning with one final study question from our book to meditate on for today:

We often do not know when we wander off. If you take stock of your life, are there areas where you might suddenly realize you are lost and have unknowingly wandered away from the Good Shepherd?

A reflection on the Mass readings for Thursday of the First Week in Ordinary time: January 11, 2018. 1 SM 4:1-11, PS 44:10-11, 14-15, 24-25, MK 1:40-45