And the lava flowed into the sea...

I remember as a young man seeing video of a volcano for the first time.  The lava was flowing down the mountain into the ocean.   When it touched the water, it roiled and exploded.   Such raw power, such destruction!   I was filled with fear that such a thing could happen to us!  I knew there were no active volcanoes anywhere near our home in Virginia.   Yet, the image was stuck in my mind and for days I couldn't sleep for fear of seeing them in my dreams.  That's the image that the Israelites experienced first hand in the desert of God.   Loud booming sounds, smoke and fire, lightning and thunder.   An image of God so terrifying that they begged Moses to go intercede for them for fear that just hearing God's voice would cause them to die.

The author of Hebrews gives us a different image of God.  That of a 'festal' gathering.  A party!  Recently I went to a wedding with Julie's family.   It had been years since we had been to anything of this sort.  With work and the kids we just couldn't find time or the money to go.   When we arrived though, we were welcomed with open arms and warm familial hugs.   We didn't feel out of place, but rather felt we were part of the family... The words that come to mind are: familiar, warm, inviting, peaceful, joyful, welcome.   That's the image we get of Heaven.   Not something to be feared, but a place to long for.   A gathering around the wedding feast of the Lamb where "everyone knows your name."

The key to being invited though, the key to the entire walk of the Christian life, is humility.   Not some false humility where one puts themselves down in order to make them look even more 'humble' than someone else, but a true sense of humility in which we realize exactly who we are.  An honest assessment of ourselves. A recognition that we are indeed sinners, and yet are called adopted Sons/Daughters of the most High!   That we are fallen in nature but chosen in calling.   Acceptance of the fact that we are holy, set apart, consecrated for God... not in some haughty manner, but in gentle, silent awe filled wonder that we are who God says we are.... that kind of humility allows us to take the lesser seat.   To sit at the foot of the table.  Because we know that's where we belong... and if God left us there?  We would have no qualms, no quarrels of sitting with the least of our brothers....

It's there that we encounter Christ in the here and now.   In the eyes of the distressful disguises that He chooses to wear.   In the outcast, the orphan, the widow... the broken, the fallen, the addicted, the scared... yes, there that we sit with Him at the table... Yet we are called to be like Christ in all things, yes?   To be not just guests at the wedding, but co-hosts with our adopted Brother.   Are you doing your part?  Are you going out to the honored guest and lifting them up to a higher place?  It's in the sick, the poor, the angry, the unappreciated, the fallen away, the mangled up, chewed up, and spit out person that we encounter Christ face to face... are you helping Him find a higher place at the table?  Christ deserves the seat of honor.. the highest praise... the best meal and the best plates... are you offering Him the best you have?  Or are you leaving Him sitting at the lower end of the table while you sit with those who make you comfortable?

We have work to do Church... more especially I have work to do.

His servant and yours,
Brian

"He must increase, I must decrease." 

 A reflection on the readings for the Twenty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time: August 28th, 2016.  Sirach 3:17-18, 20, 28-29; Psalm 68:4-5, 6-7, 10-11; Hebrews 12:18-19, 22-24; Luke 14:1, 7-14

Leaving the Nest

The eldest of four is moving out today.   She ventures into the world to experience it from a different perspective.   I remember doing the same thing shortly before my eighteenth birthday, though I did not move very far away at that point.   Like my parents, I've tried to help her to be prepared for what life has to offer.  Not just the roses and enjoyments, but also making sure she isn't completely unaware of the gritty and horrible side of life.   As parents that is our job.   To prepare them for the world.  To give them the tools necessary, the knowledge to go forth and become who God has created them to be.   As she moves out I pray and hope she finds joy in this life, but more especially that she lives in a way that reaches towards eternity.

So often we reject that knowledge though, don't we?   I remember that I began to do things 'my way' as soon as I got on my own.   I did go to church, but not as much as I should have.   I didn't put the Gospel into action in my life.   I wasn't a horrible person on the inside, but my actions bespoke a brokenness that was evident to those of faith.   I had been baptized but I wasn't living out that calling to it's fullness.   I thought as long as I have faith, that's all that matters right?  That as long as I believed in Jesus, confessed him with my mouth, I was 'saved.'   It seems I was rejecting a lot of the knowledge that my Father had given me as well.

God in today's readings promises a renewing.   He promises that He will take away our stony hearts and give us hearts of flesh.  The Psalm of David's lament reminds us of that longing for God's joy, for a renewing of that Spirit with in us.   When we are broken those words are so powerful to read.   To remind us that God can clothe us in righteousness and salvation.   That the invitation to be renewed has already been offered and needs to be accepted.   You and I both have been offered the invitation to the wedding feast, but it takes more than just accepting it to attend.

The Gospel reading is one that many people avoid.   It's one that gets rid of that notion that one can just confess with their lips, believe, and be saved.   It reminds us that we must 'do' something.  Saint James phrases it this way, "Faith without works is dead."   When all of the people who should have been at the wedding refuse?  The King calls to the ones in the streets, the outsiders, the broken, the widow and the orphan.   He invites them all to the feast and He seemingly provides for them a garment to wear.   One man shows up without it.   The King inquires how he got in without being dressed for the occasion and then casts him out.   It's not enough to just receive the invitation.... you must have a change, do something, put on the garment.   What garment?   Saint Paul expresses it to Timothy in this way: "The aim of this instruction is love from a pure heart, a good conscience, and a sincere faith."    That is the garment.   He also says "If I speak in human and angelic tongues but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal.  And if I have the gift of prophecy and comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge; if I have all faith so as to move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing."

At a homily a few days ago Father Don spoke of Metanoia.   That fancy Greek word which means to turn around, to change.   It has a stronger meaning.   It has a connotation of turning inside out.  Today we might say "flipping our life upside down."   That's what it means to put on the garment, the arraignment for the Wedding Feast of the Lamb.   It means to turn your life around completely.   To stop living for self, and to embrace the tools the Father has given you to become the person He has created you to be.   It means to stop doing it "my way" and to start living out the thing we say at Mass every time we attend: "thy will be done."

His servant and yours,
Brian

"He must increase, I must decrease." 

A reflection on the readings for Thursday of the Twentieth Week in Ordinary Time: August 18th, 2016.  Ezekiel 36:23-28; Psalm 51; The Holy Gospel According to Matthew 22:1-14

How About Another Round?

In today's Gospel reading we have a very familiar event, one that every Christian should have heard of at one time or another.   John portrays it as the first event in Jesus public ministry.  The wedding of Cana.  It's interesting that the Bible too starts out with a wedding, then ends with a wedding.   From Adam to the banquet at the end of time, God shows us just how important his relationship is to us.  He shows it as a thing of joy, as a wedding, as an event that blesses the couple and all those around with joy and happiness.  

At this wedding though something sad happens.  The couple runs out of wine.  The party isn't over and they have run out of drink.  Oh how embarrassing!  In this culture it's a loss of face, a loss of honor!  Mary quickly runs to Jesus and informs him of the need.  Then in complete faith of her son she turns to those present and says, "Do whatever he tells you."   That's our first lesson.  The first disciple, the one who said a complete yes to God, always points to her Son.  We should listen to him, do what he tells us!  We too, then, as disciples of Christ should always point to Christ!   How powerful a lesson we receive from some of the few words recorded from our Blessed Mother in Sacred Scripture.

Then another thing happens, Jesus tells them to fill the jars with water. Jesus was more than capable of doing it himself.  He's about to change the very nature of the substance, how much more difficult would it have been to fill up the jars with it?  God can do anything he chooses.  That brings us to a truth about God though, a truth about our relationship to him.  The truth is that God can do everything, but he gives us the honor of being a part of it.  He allows us to be his hands and his feet.  He allows us to fill up our jars with things, with works.  He is going to make the wine, but he expects us to bring him the water.

That's one of the things about us as Catholics.  We know that no matter how much we work, no matter how many times we do prayers, they mean nothing without Christ's help.  We don't believe that we can ever provide the wine... but we work to provide the water.  Not because God hasn't already done the work of the Cross, but because he takes our offering and unites it with the work of His Son, to make an acceptable sacrifice.   He takes our lives... our water... and he transforms it into a beautiful, fragrant, vintage wine.    Oh how wonderful and glorious this truth is.   That no matter how imperfect my work, how imperfect my faith, imperfect my efforts... God will transform them into something worth seeing. 

That's love isn't it?  It's kind of like a child coming to their mother with a gift for their father and saying mom.. I have this little apple and I want to give it to dad.  The mother gets out the best plate, the fine gold china, and she puts the apple on it.   Then she places decorative paper around it and turns it into the gift fit for the King.  The father then sees this gift, perfected in it's beauty, and he is happy.  He would have been happy enough with the gift of the apple, right?  But both the child and the mother feel he deserves better. 

That's what this whole thing is about.   That's what Mass is about.  That's what the vestments, the gold vessels, the incense, the music... all of it is about dressing up our meager offerings.  Not because God doesn't cherish them just the way they are... but because God deserves better.  Then in the Eucharist we offer the one thing, the one gift that is worthy of God... that is the most precious gift he gave to us, the gift of His son.  We offer the Son back to the father, starting with bread and wine... something not worthy.. something plain.. the fruit of the vine and the work of human hands.  Then the Holy Spirit dresses them up, transforms them.. changes them into the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of our Lord Jesus Christ.  Oh happy day!   Oh divine mercy! 

That brings me to one more point.  It doesn't matter how hard you try.. the inside of this vessel of ours is going to be filled with an imperfect person if you only do it on your own.  You can 'fill the jars with water'  but if you don't bring Jesus, through the power of the Holy Spirit, into the picture.. it's just gonna be water.   If your jar is like mine.. that water isn't perfect.  It's not pure.  It's murky and muddy, and filled with the grime of this world.. but praise be to God that through the Sacraments, he can take even the yucky water that I offer and transform it into the finest of wines!  Are you ready?  Is there anything standing in your way?  Get to those Sacraments! Come to Him, the King of Kings, and offer yourself to Him.. and let Him transform you into the person that he created you to be... Free to worship him without fear, Holy and Righteous in His sight, all the days of your life!

His servant and yours,
Brian

"He must increase, I must decrease."

The dishes, again.

I looked into the kitchen this morning, after spending the day in bed in pain.  I lifted too much yesterday and was just unable to get up this A.M.  The dishes weren't done.  I for some reason expected to magically get up at noon and find them washed.  There they were though.  Still waiting for me.

I've put them off a good portion of the day.  Waiting for someone to decide that's their cleaning for today.  Then I made the mistake.   I went to the bathroom and decided to read the Pope's homily.  Doesn't that always kick your butt into gear?  I was reading about the wedding of Cana and how that Mary wasn't concerned with herself whatsoever.  She didn't go gossip to her friends about the poor organization.  She didn't run and say did you see that?  They ran out of wine!  How shameful!   No, rather she was concerned for the other.  Mother Mary instead went to Jesus.  She prayed.  Then she went to deliver a message.  She said "Do what he tells you."  Then the Pope used those words that convicted my heart, "after all Jesus came to serve, not to be served."

My mind began to meditate on so many things.  First and foremost on the life of Father Solanus Casey, whose example often convicts me to shame and repentance.   Father Solanus took the hardest chores, took the tasks he was given with obedience and joy.  He, even in his pain, often ran up and down the stairs to get where he was going.  Never complaining.  Even when in confined to a bed in the hospital, he would hear people's problems with compassion and joy.

Father Solanus Casey

Then my mind wandered to Mother Theresa and her example of taking the hardest job for herself.  My mind reels at how often I want someone else to do the dishes.  I think of my friends, one of whom hates the dishes and another who loves them.  What makes that difference?  Why do we hate it?  Why do we love it?  Isn't it really just perspective?

Then I go back to Thich Nhaht Hahn and his writing that doing the dishes can be a moment with God, a moment of interconnection and love.  If we think and ponder on the reality that is a plate.  How it got there?  How many things it touched on the way.  How many lives were involved to get these pieces of sand to my hands.   How that God created it all and it belongs to Him.  Ah, so much to think about, and what better way than to place your hands in the warm sudsy water and begin to contemplate the mysteries of the universe.

So here I am.. off to do the dishes.

Mother Teresa