I just walked on by....

It doesn’t make much sense when we think of sheep as an economic value to leave ninety nine of them in the wilderness to go out and search for one single lost item.   Fiscally it would be reckless to do so.  You leave ninety nine of them without protection in order to go find a single one.   The return on the investment would be astronomically minuscule if the other 99 were gone when the shepherd returned.   In the ways of man, with our concentration on self comfort, wealth, power and honor… it makes zero sense.   In the economy of salvation though… it makes perfect sense.

Christ proclaimed this mystery when He said that He came as a physician, not to heal those who were already well, but the sick who were in need of Him.   There are many people out there who have that holier than though attitude.  The notion that we are the saved ones and them?  They? The ones over there?   They are the sick.  If that is so, then Christ is not after us.  After all how can He offer us Salvation if we don’t feel we are the ones who need it?   That’s why the Church looks the way it is now.   The world tries to hold us to a standard of perfection.  Those Christians have to be perfect, but those who aren’t religious?  They can do whatever.  The Church is not a museum for the perfect, but a hospital for the sinner.

That’s what the Sacraments are all about.  A moment of encounter in which the sick go into to see the physician.   In penance we go in with our symptoms and come out after a shot of medicine and a prescription of how to maintain that health.   In the Eucharist we go forth for a checkup in which Christ enters us himself.   It may sound silly but sometimes it reminds me of that movie Inner Space, where they shrink down and go into a persons body to try to get rid of whatever is ailing him.   Christ does that, He takes that work on the cross and applies it to us.   He comes into us again and again to help push out those things that aren’t quite right, those little things that keep us from being perfect.   It is He, who through a lifetime and beyond, who makes us perfect.. Who turns us into Saints.   We need Him.   He knows that.   So He makes it happen.

Today as I was venturing around Belvidere I walked through a pretty harsh neighborhood.   The water there looked as if it was coming straight out of a sewage pipe.  People were walking around in gang colors.  I passed by a ‘Relaxation Station’ that touted with bold words that if you took the full package the lady of your choice would ‘join you in the Jacuzzi’.  Another place warned that not only could you not wear saggy pants, but that ‘gang activity would not be tolerated on premises.’   I was nervous to say the least.  Then a man walked by in raggy clothes and torn pants.   His shirt open revealing sunken ribs and obvious signs he had not eaten or bathed in a long time.   He asked me for a dollar and I said ‘I don’t have any cash on me.’   That was the truth.   Yet Christ had just walked by me and I didn’t recognize Him.   I didn’t offer Him what I did have, a moment of compassion, a prayer, a conversation… I just kept walking.  One of the lost ones might have been going by and unlike the Savior, I didn’t go after Him but returned to the safety of the ninety nine.  

That’s why I need Him.   Because I am not there yet.  Forgive me.

His servant and yours,

Brian

“He must increase, I must decrease.”

A reflection on the daily readings for Tuesday of the Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time: August 9th, 2016.   Ezekiel 2:8-3:4; Psalm 119; A reading from the Holy Gospel according to Matthew 18:1-5, 10, 12-14  

Have you lost focus?

Several years ago my wife found some discounted tickets from Rockford to Arizona for a price we could not pass up.  So our family packed our things and flew the miles to the warm desert state to visit family and experience the world.  It was one thing to see the desert, the cacti, and the grand canyon in pictures.  It was another to experience the true majesty of God's creation in person.   To walk in the sand and heat, to see the sites and even to rest in the shade.   One day during the trip we went swimming at a pool.  Laying there in the shade I watched as the kids laughed and giggled.  Moira was almost two years old.   Her sister was watching her by the steps in the shallow end and her mother had gone to the bathroom.  At some point I dozed off.  I woke to a strange sound.  I don't know if it was Julie yelling or the bubbles in the pool, but when I jerked up I saw that Moira was no where to be seen and her sisters were over by the deep end.

It turned out Moira was under the water.  We got to her before she could drown, but to this day she still has a fear of getting water in her eyes.  I'll never forget those few moments of panic though.  Those moments when I thought my daughter was gone.  The fear of thinking my center, the person we were living for, the child we had been so intimately connected with for two years was possibly gone from our lives.  I can't imagine what that must be like for a parent.   To lose their child first.   It shouldn't be that way, right?  We all expect our kids to out live us, to be there until after we ourselves have passed.  Too many parents experience that right now in their lives, and my heart goes out to them.

In the readings for today, it is even more poignant that these widows had lost not just their child, but their only sons.  In a world where women have no rights, where they must be cared for by their husbands and their children in their old age, this was her center... her focus.. her only hope.   This child would be the one who would make an income for the family, provide them a home, give his mother a life.  Instead her hope was gone.  Her husband was already gone, any other sons as well, and here the last of the lineage was dead before her.  How angry these things make us, don't they?   So much so we blame God for them.  Why God?  Why do good things happen to good people?  Why pain? Why suffering?   Why death?  The widow of Zarephath had the same response.  "Have you come to me to call attention to my guilt and to kill my son?"

It's easy to do that isn't it.  Elijah in response did what we are all called to do.  He got on his knees and he prayed for the boy.  He gave his heart into it, groaning and begging God to make a change.   To restore hope, joy, peace.   He stood in the gap for the widow, bringing back her life to her.   Her focus was restored with the life of her son.   She knew then that Elijah was indeed a man of God because he spoke the "Word of the Lord."   That's a key to remember as well.  Our "yes must be yes and our no, no."   Our word must be truth, we must speak the Gospel as it is, not deviating or trying to make it our own.. it's not ours to change.  God has given it to us in His plan, His way.   We hand it on in the same manner.

Then comes the scene in the Gospel where Jesus performs a similar, but more astounding, miracle.  Unlike Elijah, He does not ask for permission to take the son into His arms, but rather puts His hand on the son of His own desire.   He informs them not to weep and then instead of needing to pray for God's intercession, He simply speaks "I tell you arise!" and it comes about.  The people realize at that moment that history has just changed.  This man is more than just a prophet, this is a man who speaks with authority.  "God has visited his people!"  This widow has been restored, given back her hope, her focus, the thing that makes life worth living.  

I imagine that is similar to what I felt when I saw Moira's head surface, spitting out water and gasping for air.  Relief, concern, but above all hope.   Peace.  That is what Jesus is offering to us today.  Every day we lose focus.   We lose some hope.   The world tears at us and Satan prowls around seeking to destroy us.  The news is depressing, kids reject their parents and their faith, and even the music is filled with drugs, violence, and degrading imagery.   We can encounter Him the same way the widow did, in person, directly, through the Sacraments.   In Reconciliation and in the Eucharist, we come face to face with Jesus who declares to us "Do not weep."   He then can restore to us that which was our focus, that which was lost.   He places himself in our hearts that we might be complete again, that we might have hope for eternal life, that we can know we are cared for and taken care of.   We are no longer on our own, He is with us.

Then He challenges us to go out into the world with Him.   To reach out to all of those others who have been widowed by their existence.   All of those who have lost hope, who have no one to care for them, who need food, drink, friendship.   To take that Sacramental presence we receive and become life givers, hope bringers, messengers of peace and joy.   It's only when we become little 'Christ's'  that we can even hope to manage that.   Not to go alone, but to bring Him into every interaction, every thought, every deed.  Mathew 25 tells us exactly how to do that.

Then the King will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, O blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me,  I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’  Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see thee hungry and feed thee, or thirsty and give thee drink?  And when did we see thee a stranger and welcome thee, or naked and clothe thee?  And when did we see thee sick or in prison and visit thee?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.’

So are you ready for that?  To feed the hungry, cloth the naked, welcome the refugee among you, give water to the thirsty, visit the sick and prisoner?    The world is filled with people who are imprisoned by their own vices, their own sinful natures.   It's our job as Church to go out and give them a reason for our hope.  To meet them where they are, and love them so much we never leave them there.   Instead we journey with them toward eternity, seeking to eat the wedding feast of the lamb with them by our side.   Make a friend, be a friend, and bring that friend to Christ.  We have work to do Church!

His servant and yours,
Brian

"He must increase, I must decrease."

10 minutes.

A Reflection on the Readings for the

Feast of the Holy Family

12/27/2015

The other day I went to the school to pick up my daughter.  I stood outside waiting for her for a while.  Parent after parent left with their kids.  The parking lot was now empty.  I began to walk towards the door.  The teacher opened the door and peered out as if she didn't trust me.  I'm 6'5", 300 lbs, and keep my head shaved.  I am sure that's not the average person.  I informed her my daughter had not come out to the car like she was supposed to.  She let me in and they began to call around the school.  She wasn't there.   Must be on the bus they informed me. 

I left hurried.  Have you ever felt that panic begin to creep at the edge of your perception, like some long lost evil trying to barge it's way into your field of vision?   Yeah, there he was.  I tamped him down.  She's on the bus.   I knew it.   Why?  I don't know.  She wasn't supposed to be.  So I raced as fast as traffic would let me to the bus stop.  I called my wife. I told her what was going on.  She panicked.    She began to demand answers over the phone, answers I could not give.   I will call you back after I find out something.   So there I sat.  And sat.   And sat.   And sat.

The bus was very late.  Someone had fallen and gotten hurt, the son of a friend of ours.  An ambulance had come.  I heard it in the distance.  That didn't help.  10 minutes passed.  Finally the bus came down the street.  It still had to make it's rounds through the other sub division before coming back to us to drop off the kids.  I guess it being late does not change the route any, or even get the driver to explain to the parents why they are late.  So she ran to the car and got in like nothing had happened. She began asking where the baby was.  The baby only stays with us on Wednesdays.   She rides the bus on Wednesday.  That explains everything.

That didn't dismiss the feelings right?  The panic.  The fear.  The what ifs.  The first thing I did when she got in the car of course was demand to know why she rode the bus.   I think one of our first reactions to panic is anger, once we know they are safe.  It's hard to deal with.  Maybe half an hour had passed total.  10 of it waiting in a car unable to do anything.  It's almost like grief isn't it?  Like you've lost someone?    Once before years ago she had gone under a display in Kohl's and we couldn't find her.  It doesn't get easier.  It gets harder.  Both times it was like losing her for ever.  Tears wanted to break in.  All of the emotions of grief.  Denial.  Anger.   Yes, just like losing someone forever.

Imagine Mary and Joseph... they were three entire days without Jesus.  Some theologians think that this was to prepare her for the tomb at Easter.   Three days she sought him, three days she could not find him.  Travelling backwards along their route looking for family and friends.  "Have you seen him?"  "Do you know where he is?"  Demanding answers that none of them could give.  They didn't have a phone to call back later to explain.  It simply meant continuing to look.  Not giving up.  Not letting fear and panic set in and take over.  The relief they must have felt finding him in the temple, yet the same kind of angry reaction: “Son, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been looking for you with great anxiety.”  "Moira why were you on the bus?  You know I was supposed to pick you up! Your mother and I were worried sick!" 

Mo's answer was much like Jesus answer, "I thought it was Wednesday, you should have known I was on the bus."  "Why were you looking for me?  You should have known where I was."   It's incredulous to them that we would worry, that we wouldn't know exactly where they were supposed to be.   Jesus was the Son of God, but it did not occur to them immediately that he would be at the temple.  Like Mary though, we have to take these things into our hearts.  What can we learn from this? 

Mary was prepared by the different events in her life for things to come.  Three days without Jesus as a child.   Three days without Jesus at his death.   The first time she went running, panicked, in fear, retracing her steps trying to find him.   Notice at his death she waited behind.  She didn't need to go find him.. though he had died... she knew exactly where he would be.  She didn't lose him.  She still had him in her heart.  Some say he even visited her first before the rest of the Apostles.  Maybe.  Either way.. she had faith.  She knew she would find him again.. in his Father's house.

Sometimes the events in our lives make us scared.  They panic us.  They make us lose sight of Jesus.  We see someone pass away and we wonder why.   We see someone in pain, and we ask why good people suffer.   Some cross comes into our own world.. and we have no idea why we were chosen to carry it.   He never moves away from us.. it's always us that move away from him.   Like Mary, we must learn where Jesus is... that he is always there.  He is in our family.  He is in our friends.  He is in our church.  Most importantly, he is in the Eucharist... turn to him.. find him in his father's house... anytime you lose him, he is sacramentally present and desires your return.   Let him speak directly to your heart as he says to each of us: "Why were you looking for me?  You should have known where I was."
  
His servant and yours,
Brian