The Hungers of Our Hearts

While teaching a group of small children, Sister Briege McKenna said, “When you receive your first Holy Communion, Jesus will come and live in your heart.” One little girl piped up and asked, “Oh, do you mean with his furniture and everything?” Well, there is no furniture involved, of course. But Jesus does come and live in our hearts when we receive Holy Communion.

A woman at my parish taught this truth to a non-verbal autistic boy who was preparing for his First Communion. She wanted to make sure that he could make a distinction between the normal food he ate at meals and the spiritual food he would receive in Holy Communion. So she drew a big picture of his body on a sheet of brown paper. Where the stomach would be she drew a big circle and filled it with samples of food he would often eat- Cheerios and things like that. Next she drew a picture of his heart and placed in it some unconsecrated communion wafers. Then, after completing the picture, she would ask the boy where the food he eats at meals goes. He would point to his own stomach, and then the stomach on the big picture. Finally, she would ask him where the spiritual food Jesus gives him goes, and he would touch his heart, and then the one on the picture with the wafers. He was ready for his first Holy Communion.

Jesus himself teaches us, in today’s gospel, that he comes to dwell in our hearts when we receive Holy Communion. The setting this teaching was the Last Supper, when Jesus instituted the sacrament of the Holy Eucharist. He explained to his disciples that after he had risen and ascended to heaven, he would send the Holy Spirit who would unite them with himself and God the Father in a very intimate way. “On that day,” Jesus said, “you will realize that I am in my Father and you are in me and I am in you.” This communion with God begins when we receive the Holy Spirit at baptism, and it is nourished and strengthened whenever we receive Jesus in Holy Communion.

Pope John Paul II once said, “Even if all the physical hunger of the world were satisfied…the deepest hunger of man would still exist.” Indeed, we have several deep hungers that need to be fed. Bishop Robert Morneau of Green Bay proposes that we each have what he calls “five basic hungers of the heart.”

The first of these hungers, he says, is for meaning in life. Sometimes we wonder if life has any purpose. We ask “What’s it all about?” We look to the skies a and note that our tiny planet circles a sun that is only one of 100 billion stars in our galaxy, which in turn is only one of 100 billion galaxies in the universe, which is growing bigger as we speak. We see this, and wonder if there’s any purpose in it all.

Our second basic hunger, according to Bishop Morneau, is for commitment. We all search for someone or something to commit our lives to; we seek to give our talents and energies to something worthwhile. If we don’t commit ourselves, we’ll wind up bouncing from one relationship to another, moving from one job to the next, ceaselessly drifting and experimenting.

Our third basic hunger is for depth and quality in life. Morneau says that we long for deep encounters- with God, with others, and with ourselves. He gave the example of a Christmas party he once attended. In twenty minutes he was introduced to thirty people, but he concluded that he didn’t really meet anybody. The encounters were superficial, which is the experience of life for too many people today. They- we- hunger for more.

“Wholeness” is the fourth basic hunger of the heart. We’re all broken people, says Morneau. We’ve been hurt by life, by others, and we’ve hurt ourselves too. We struggle with our pain, our addictions, and our sinfulness. We need to be healed, to be made “whole” once again.

The fifth and final “basic hunger of the heart” is intimacy. We’re made for oneness, for communion, says Morneau. Nevertheless, we suffer from isolation, alienation, and loneliness.  In a sense, this is kind of a “hell on earth.” What we want is closeness- with others, with God.

The only thing- the only person– who can feed the deepest hungers of our heart, is Jesus Christ. Only Jesus who can satisfy our need for meaning, commitment, depth, wholeness, and intimacy. This was learned by a woman I know who was fond of wearing a necklace with a heart-shaped pendant. The heart, however, wasn’t solid. It was only the outline of a heart. She said that this pendant was symbolic, as she felt as if she were going through life with an empty heart. At times she had tried to fill it with various things- some good, some bad. But it was only when Jesus broke into her life that the hunger of her heart really began to be fed.

St. Peter said to us in today’s second reading: “Sanctify Jesus in your hearts.” We can do this by letting Jesus come into our hearts and feed its hungers with the gift of himself in Holy Communion. So maybe the challenge for us today is to come prepared, and to come often. “Our hearts are restless until they rest in God,” wrote St. Augustine. But perhaps we can paraphrase him and say: Our hearts are hungry, until they are fed by Jesus.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/052911.shtml

Photo Credits: Laurel Fan, madmiked, and Geecy via Creative Commons 

Just Doing Our Job

Few of us welcome being challenged, criticized, or told that something about us needs to change. Instead of keeping an open mind, we usually react with defensiveness, anger, or fear. We might make excuses, stop our ears, or dismiss our critic as being off-kilter or a “goody two-shoes.” It’s easier to silence the challenging voice, than it is to listen. That’s why dictatorships squelch a free press! It’s also why Jesus was nailed to a cross.

Those who speak uncomfortable words to the world, or challenge it by their way of life, inspire some, but threaten many more. Prophets are typically unappreciated and misunderstood in their lifetimes. They’re often ridiculed, jailed, or even assassinated.

As God’s Son, Jesus is a prophet, because he revealed God’s sometimes uncomfortable truth to the world. As members of his body, the Church, we share in Jesus’ prophetic ministry. We shouldn’t be surprised then, that the harsh reception given to Jesus, is also given to us. “If the world hates you,” Jesus insisted, “realize that it hated me first.”

We don’t hate the world in return, we witness to it; we engage it, without embracing it; we challenge it, but are not conformed to it. Doing this will make us friends, but enemies too. It’s painful when that happens, but there’s also a silver lining: it means we’re doing our job, as Jesus did his.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/052811.shtml

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What’s Next? A Reflection for the Memorial of St. Philip Neri

A young man once approached St. Philip Neri for advice. He shared with the saint his plan to study law and become an attorney. St. Philip pressed him for more information. “And then?” he asked. “And then,” the young man replied, “I will be a successful lawyer.” “And then?” the saint asked again. “And then people will speak well of me and I’ll have a good reputation. “And then?” came the question once again. “And then I shall lead an easy life and be happy.” St. Philip asked a final time: “And then?” As he considered the end of his life, it dawned upon the young man that in all of his life’s plans and dreams, he mad made no reference to the will of God at all.

And don’t we sometimes do the same thing? We make our plans, we go about our business, without giving God’s will for us a second thought. You might say that we so often take the “short view”, while God asks us to take the “long view.”

St. Philip Neri reminded the young man, and he reminds us as well, that as we live out our Christian lives we need to always keep one eye on eternity, since it’s our hope to one day look upon God face-to-face.

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Remain with Me

My father was a naval officer. When I was a boy, my dad was often away at sea for months on end. These times were hard on our family, and we missed each other terribly. It’s hard being apart from those we love. We want to spend time with them; we want to be close to them; we want to be together.

This is exactly how Jesus feels about us. “Remain in me,” he asks us in today’s gospel, “as I remain in you.” In John’s gospel, “remain” is a special word that speaks of closeness and intimacy. By wanting to “remain” in us, Jesus is saying that he wants to be as closely united with us as he is with the Father and the Holy Spirit. He doesn’t want us to go away; he doesn’t want us to live apart; he doesn’t want to have a distant or casual relationship with us. Jesus loves us deeply, and wants us be with us, always.

A popular reflection God’s love, “Just in Case You Forgot,” reflects the message of today’s gospel. It concludes like this: “God could live anywhere in the universe, and he chose your heart. Face it, friends, he’s crazy about you! He loves you very much.”

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/052511.shtml

Photo Credit: Official US Navy Imagery via Creative Commons

Imagining Sainthood

Have you ever wondered what type of person you might be if you weren’t a Catholic? I have, and the picture that comes to mind isn’t necessarily pretty. I completely understand St. Vincent de Paul when he said, “But for divine grace I would be in temper hard and repellant, rough and crabbed.”

At the same time, have you ever imagined yourself as a saint: a person filled with peace, hope, and joy, rich in faith and good works? I’ve done this too. And even though I recognize that I have a long way to go to achieve this goal, I know it’s possible, if I live in harmony with Jesus.

What becomes of a person with or without Jesus is what Jesus himself considers in today’s gospel. He says that when we remain in him, we bear good fruit in our lives and glorify God. But when we don’t remain in him, we essentially wither and die.

We should keep these two possibilities always before us as we choose how to live our lives. We can imagine the Christ-less image of ourselves and think, “There, but for the grace of God, go I.” And we can picture ourselves as a saint and hope, “That, with the grace of God, is what I can become.”

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/052411.shtml

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Heaven on Earth

How would you describe heaven on earth? Lying on a beach? Winning the lottery? A bigger house? Maybe just catching up on sleep and getting the bills paid?

Jesus gives us his prescription for heaven on earth in today’s gospel. He speaks of he and his Father coming to us, making their dwelling us, and loving us- which is what happens in heaven! To enjoy this, however, we need to love Jesus by keeping his commandments.

Jesus commands us to love one another in the way he has loved us. In other words, we can bring about heaven on earth by loving each other the way Jesus wants us to. Which means that when we don’t love others, we create a little bit of hell. Heaven and hell are not just reserved for the next life. In a sense, they’re really a continuation of the way we choose to live our lives today. So even if we never lie on a beach, win the lottery, get a bigger house, or pay all the bills, life can indeed be heavenly, whenever we make the decision to love.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/052311.shtml

Photo credit: Horia Varlan via Creative Commons

Genie in a Bottle?

Is Jesus a genie in a bottle? We might think so, given his words in today’s gospel: “If you ask anything of me in my name, I will do it.” Given this, instead of asking, “Show us the Father,” like Phillip did, we might be tempted to demand: “Show me the money!”

But consider what else Jesus said. He insisted that he didn’t speak on his own, but that he said what the Father wanted him to say, because he is in the Father, and the Father is in him.

We aren’t one with the Father in the way Jesus is. However, we are united with Jesus by the Holy Spirit at baptism. The Father works in Jesus, and Jesus works in us, through the Spirit. This allows us to pray in his name. When we do this, we’re not speaking on our own. Instead, we’re inspired to say what Jesus wants us to say.

This is the key to understanding, not only Jesus’ promise to fulfill our requests, but also his insistence that we’d do the same works he did- even greater ones! Not through our power, of course, but through his. Jesus will do what we ask him to do- when we ask what he wants us to ask.

After all, he’s not a genie in a bottle. He’s God’s Son, dwelling in our hearts.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/052111.shtml

Photo Credit: puuikibeach via Creative Commons

Homeward Bound

When asked what heaven will be like, an American bishop wrote of his first visit to his parents’ native village in Italy. Because he had seen pictures of it for years, everything looked familiar to him when he arrived in person. “I know this place,” he thought. “I am finally at home.” He hoped that he would feel the same way- that he was finally at home- upon entering heaven.

Heaven is indeed our true home, as Jesus explained in today’s gospel. He was speaking during the Last Supper with his disciples, who were troubled that he was soon to leave them. Jesus soothed their fears by explaining that his departure was a good thing, because he was going to prepare a place for them in heaven. Yet he would return one day to take them to their heavenly home- the Father’s house

There is room for us in the Father’s house, too. This is hope for us when life gets hard. It reminds us that we’ve not yet arrived at our final destination, as this life is but a way station to a “better place.” As he did with his disciples, Jesus tells us not to worry, because regardless of where this life takes us, we are always “homeward bound.”

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