Salted with Fire.

Salted with fire.  Jesus uses some interesting words in the Gospel for tomorrow. The image of salt puts us in mind of food.  It reminds us that salt is necessary for life.  It's also a natural anti-bacterial, a preservative.  It brings out the flavors of the food while at the same time killing germs that might make it spoil.  Fire also is something we use to cook, but much more.   It does indeed purify, but it can also kill.   It warms but can also burn.  It's dangerous but intrinsic to the survival of man.  Without fire we would still be living only in the tropical reasons eating only fruits from the trees.  Fire improves life but anything it touches changes.

Both of these images remind us of something that changes us, cleanses us.   Both can hurt but both are beneficial as well.  Anyone who has ever gotten salt in a wound knows that it stings!  Yet, it also helps to kill the germs.  Spiritually both of these images indicate a cleansing, albeit maybe a painful one.   A cleansing that every single person will go through, not just the good and not just the bad, but every one of us.  The thing is, we have heard this image before throughout the history of Christian theology.  "God's love is an all consuming fire."   "We are the salt of the earth."  The image of the burning bush comes to mind.  It did not consume the bush, but it transformed it.   The ground on which it stood was then holy ground.   So in God's case the fire  doesn't consume everything... but it does change everything it touches.

St. Paul tells us the parable of man whose house was burnt to the ground, and he declares he was saved as by fire.  The only thing that made it through were the gold, precious gems, and precious stones.   All of the wood, hay, and stubble was destroyed in the process.  I think that's the image that Mark wants us to envision in today's reading.   Those things which are from heaven, those things born of charity (love), are what will remain after the house burns down.   Those things which are not of heaven; selfishness, ego, hatred, anger, addiction, disordered attachments; these things would be consumed by the fire.

I have heard God's love described as an all consuming fire that is fueled by sin.  Just like a log that you throw on the fire, the more sin, the more the flames burn.   In light of our belief as Catholics that explains Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory like this:   Those who refuse to let go of their sin cling to it in the life after this.  They have no desire to let go of it and the more they are washed by the love of God, the more it burns, the more it hurts.  So they run for eternity trying to get away from the love of God, hating him more and more... instead of just letting the sin go.  Those who die with some attachment to sin but are on their way to heaven must be pure before entering.  So they bear the burning... while trying to let go of the sin.  Until the sin is burnt out, until there is no more fuel... they simply must endure it as they grow closer and closer to God's love.  The greatest ache they experience is knowing they are on the way to see God.. but their own sins, the things they did not let go of in this world, that is what is keeping them from going directly to him.   That is purgatory.  Not a new place, not another chance.. but a process by which you are cleansed by God's burning love.  Then those who are pure, those who have no attachment to sin, have no need for purification.. those we call Saints.. because they are right there in Heaven with God.

James in the first reading gives us a laundry list of sins.   He condemns those with wealth who do not help those in need.  Those who cheat the poor.  He declares all the ills that we today know as Social Justice.  This is the fuel.   These are the things which make God's love flare and burn.   It's only when we allow him to purify us, to cleanse us.  To let the Holy Spirit transform our hearts and our minds until we no longer hold on to those sins.. and the sorrow, the remorse, the bitter conscience... is replaced with love, joy, faith, and hope.  That's what the Sacraments are all about.   Letting God's love wash over us.   It may not always be pleasant, but it's cleansing.   It may not be something we want to go through, but it's necessary.

Jesus uses some hyperbole to talk about the need to cut off those things which cause you to sin.  The Church Fathers have long seen these parts of the body as symbols for intimate friends.   Jesus is calling us to examine our friendships... that it's better for us to walk into Heaven without that person at our side.. than for us to follow them down a path that leads to both of our destruction.   He declares that it is better to have a millstone tied around our necks than cause a child of God to sin... that goes for us.. and for them.  I think that's the challenge today.   To ask ourselves, in what ways am I being held back?  What fuels am I holding on to?   What do I need to let go that God's love might flood over me and purify me?  Are there any poisonous, caustic relationships that I am in that I need to take a break from? Remember salt enhances flavor, it brings out the nuances of what is already there.   It's time for us to remove those things which are unpleasant to the taste, and replace them with that which will last forever.

His servant and yours,
Brian

"He must increase, I must decrease." 

We've made a stellar start to find the jungle's heart

Many years ago, before my spinal fusion, I worked as an electrical foreman.  I helped supervise crews that did the electrical, fire alarms, security systems, etc for moderate size commercial installations.  Everything from Hospitals to Wal-Mart super centers.  One of the things I noticed about some foremen was the tendency to stay in the office looking at the plans all day.   They would only come out to assign work to their crew and then back to the air conditioning they would go.   I never felt comfortable doing that.  My father had raised me to believe that one should never ask another to do something that you yourself wouldn't do.  So the first thing I usually did on a job was build a print table so that I could have the prints right out there on the construction site.   I'd work right alongside my men as much as possible, though much of the time I'd get interrupted before I could get anything substantial completed.

I think though the fact that I was right there with them, right there digging ditches side by side, running conduit, pulling wire... I think those things showed the men I worked with that I did not think I was better than they were.  I didn't use my title, my paycheck, my position... to try and make them into something less.  Rather, I was one of them. I ate with them. I would sit around a fire with them at night listening to music.  I'd throw back a beer and join in the story telling.   It was a beautiful time.  I often wonder how different things would have been had I been the other kind of foreman.  If I had never built those bonds of friendship, never allowed myself to be seen as just another guy on the team.   Would production have gone up? Or down?  Would I have made more money?  Would I have been able to live with myself?

In tomorrow's Gospel for daily mass we see an encounter with Christ.   This mother wants the best she can get for her children.   She wants them to be in positions of honor, authority, power.   The other disciples grow indignant.  How dare they ask for this power!?  How dare they crave the honor that the others felt they would want instead.  If you look at the surrounding text in Scripture, this isn't the first time this discussion has come up.   They were just arguing about it the last time that Jesus had predicted his death.  "Hey guys I"m going to Jerusalem to die."  "umm, which one of us is going to be in charge?"  Jesus reminds them of his own model of leadership, that of the servant leader.

"You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and the great ones make their authority over them felt. But it shall not be so among you. Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you shall be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you shall be your slave. Just so, the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many."

We as Christians are challenged to not Lord it over others that we have authority.  How many of us sometimes make that mistake?  Sometimes we fall into that pit of believing that our piety, our works, our discipline.. that those things we do make us better than another.  We though, are challenged to serve the other, not to rub it in that we are better.   We must be in the ditches digging with them.  During Lent that is a powerful reminder of the things we are called to: prayer, fasting, and almsgiving.  Are you in the trenches helping your fellow men?  Are you out doing those things that you would ask them to do?  That's a call to authentic catholic life.  You can't tell someone else that they need to straighten up if you yourself are living a life of sin.  You can't say I want you to fast and give alms, if you yourself aren't doing the same.  How hypocritical of us, to have the skeletons in our own closets where light never reaches but somehow feel entitled to pick the lock of someone else's storage shed.

No, Jesus calls us to examine our own eye first.  Look for our own logs... before worrying about someone else's speck.  Our hearts are revealed in our words and deeds.  Jesus told us that where our treasure is, there our hearts will be also.  That very statement can apply to the innermost recesses of our emotions, to the things that hang in the background like a dark cloud that is about to burst into rain.  If our heart is in the wrong place, if our intention is not to edify, uplift, and aide another person... then we aren't in the ditch.  We are sitting comfortably in our air conditioner asking them to do more than us, asking them to become like Christ while we are far from that goal ourselves.   That's what Lent is about.  It's about getting out of the air conditioner.. out of our comfort zone... out of our own self centeredness.. and into the battlefield.  To reach our hand to our fellow human beings and saying "I am not perfect.  I don't have all the answers... but I know this man named Jesus Christ.   My life is better having known him.  He has taught me how to be happy.  I think he can teach you too."  It's about becoming a signpost that points to Christ.  Too often we become a sign that only points to Hell.... and while knowing about Hell is important, I think fixing our vision on Gehenna is falling short of the true message of the Gospel.

So as we journey together through the desert in this jubilee year of Mercy, let's begin to ask ourselves:

• Am I living out the beatitudes?

• Am I growing in the cardinal virtues?

• Am I pointing to Christ? If not, to whom am I pointing?

• Is there anything standing in my way, between me and God?

• Is there anything then between me and my fellow man?

• How can I work on whatever I discover to be more like Christ?

Like the mother in the story, every day is an opportunity for an encounter with Christ.   He has asked the disciples, "Can you drink the chalice that I am going to drink?"   Now in turn he is asking you, "Can you?"  Are you ready to pour yourself out like a libation for your fellow man?   To die to yourself that they might be united to the father?  Is this cup that Christ is offering you one you crave?  All of his disciples, save one, did indeed drink from the cup of martyrdom.  Are you prepared to do the same?  I don't know about you, but it's a frightening thing to think of the cross that Christ is offering us.  Lord help us to find the strength to say with your disciples: "We can."


His servant and yours,
Brian

"I must decrease, he must increase."