Don’t Stop Believin’

When our prayers appear to go unanswered, and God seems distant, indifferent, or deaf, we can wonder if there’s any use in praying at all. At times like this, the experience of the woman in today’s gospel can be very helpful to us.

As we heard, she pleaded with Jesus on behalf of her sick daughter. At first, Jesus gave her no response at all. Next, Jesus’ friends asked him to send her away. And then, after she had literally fallen on her knees and begged for help, Jesus quoted a popular saying which likened her people to dogs.

Jesus was intentionally testing her faith, and she passed the test. Others might have given up, and walked away in bitterness and disappointment. But not this woman! She continued to persist, her prayer was answered, and her daughter was healed.

Her witness demonstrates the importance of persistence in prayer. Persistence is essential, for several reasons. For starters, persistence teaches us patience and honors the fact that God acts in freedom, and isn’t a spigot of grace that we can turn on and off as we wish. In addition, persistence shows to God that some need is close to our hearts, and not just a casual request. Persistence can also make clear to us that God’s agenda, and God’s timetable, are sometimes very different than ours. Sometimes God says “Yes!” Sometimes God says “No.” And sometimes God says “Not yet.”

In short, nothing should discourage us from persisting in prayer. As St. Teresa of Avila said, “God never gets tired of giving; so let us never get tired of asking.”

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/080311.shtml

Photo Credit: albertopveiga via Creative Commons

Don’t Look Down!

“Don’t look down!” is good advice we can give to those people who have a fear of heights. And in a sense, this is also the advice that Jesus gave to Peter in today’s gospel.

As we heard, Peter and his friends found themselves in the midst of a storm. The wind was howling, the waves were pounding, and their little boat was being dangerously tossed about.

And then, from seemingly out of nowhere, Jesus appeared. He didn’t immediately calm the storm, as he sometimes does. Instead, he came to his friends in the midst of the storm, in order to test them, and to help them learn about faith.

While he walked on the water, Jesus invited Peter to come to him, and what happened next is very instructive for us. As long as Peter kept his eyes focused on Jesus, the wind and the waves didn’t consume him. Instead, he was able to rise above them! It was only when he took his eyes off Jesus that he began to sink, and was filled with fear.

When you and I find ourselves being tossed about by the storms of life, we can take a cue from Peter. As long as we keep our eyes on Jesus, as long as we try our best to stay close to him in faith and trust, we can be assured that we won’t drown, that we won’t sink into despair, and that we won’t be paralyzed by fear. Because we will hear Jesus say to us, as he said to Peter: “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.”

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/080211.shtml

Photo Credit: Stewart via Creative Commons

Following our Heart, Following the Lord (St. Alphonsus Liguori)

“Follow your heart” and “pursue your dreams” are advice often given to young people today. In eighteenth century Italy, however, young Alphonsus Liguori faced an entirely different set of expectations. Because he was “upper class” by birth, he was expected to pursue a professional career and get married to someone of his social standing. Therefore, when Alphonsus decided to enter the priesthood, his father was outraged, and refused to speak with him for two years. Alphonsus was resolute, however, and after ordination he continued his break from aristocratic expectations by serving in desolate city slums and remote mountain regions. Later, when he was named bishop in a mostly well-to-do diocese, he thought that it must be a punishment for his sins.

The experiences of St. Alphonsus Liguori remind us that when we open our hearts and allow God to touch our lives, our future will be anything but conventional, safe, or predictable. Indeed, we’ll find ourselves challenging our culture, and being challenged by it; we’ll break molds, and break out of pigeonholes; we’ll defy the expectations of others, but with grace we’ll exceed them. God’s plans are indeed full of surprises, presenting us with both joys and crosses that we could never foresee.

Today, as we continue our uncharted journeys, we’d do well to echo these words of St. Alphonsus himself: “I offer myself entirely to you (God), that you might do with me and all that belongs to me as you please.”

Broken Bread for Broken People

A few years back, I taught a course at my parish on the sacrament of the Holy Eucharist. During one session, I spoke about the Real Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist- how bread and wine are changed into the very Body and Blood of Christ. At one point, one of the participants raised her hand, and explained that she felt strongly moved to speak. She told how once she had been attending a daily Mass at St. Matthew’s Cathedral in downtown Washington. The priest who was preaching had just returned from Jerusalem. While he was there, he walked the famous Via Dolorosa- the Way of the Cross- the route tradition says Jesus walked on Good Friday. While she listened to this, the woman thought: “How wonderful to have been so close to Jesus!” Then at that moment, a voice in her heart said, “But not as close as I am to you now.” She knew that voice to be the voice of the Lord, and she has treasured ever since then that reminder that we are never as close to the Lord as when we receive him at Mass, in the Eucharist.

This is something we need to keep in mind as we consider today’s gospel. Jesus’ miracle of loaves and fishes is meant to teach us about the Eucharist. Because just as Jesus took bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to the crowds, so too at Mass a priest does exactly the same thing: He takes bread, blesses it, breaks it, and gives it to the congregation.

This bread that is broken, however, is no ordinary bread. As the woman in my class reminded us, that bread is the Body of Christ. Jesus is present in that consecrated bread, not in an empty, symbolic way, but in a real, personal way. That’s why we genuflect whenever we pass before a tabernacle- because Jesus himself is there.

When this bread is broken at Mass, it’s a special sign to us that Jesus is able to multiply his presence in the Eucharist just as he multiplied the bread in today’s gospel miracle. In other words, Jesus is present in the same way in the hundreds of millions of consecrated hosts, or wafers of bread, that will be consumed by faithful Catholics at Masses all around the world today.

That’s a pretty amazing thing, if you think about it. However, Jesus is able to multiply his presence in another way too. He does so through you and me. Just like the Eucharistic bread, we too are called the body of Christ. St. Paul says that we are one bread, one body. As individuals, however, we are sent forth at the end of Mass to make Jesus present in our homes and in our communities. In other words, we too are bread that is broken so that Jesus can be present in many places, all at the same time.

I know of a church in a rough part of the Bronx that is under the pastoral care of a group of Franciscan priests and brothers. They’ve made a point of getting to know the people in the neighborhood. When they meet them on the sidewalk in front of the church, they’ll often say, “Jesus is inside. Why don’t you stop in and pray?” And many people do! However, shouldn’t we be able to say that about our own homes too? Shouldn’t people be able to find Jesus under our roof because we are such good witnesses to Jesus? We must always remember that just as Jesus broke the bread to nourish everyone in the crowd, we are bread broken so that the world might be nourished through our witness to Christ.

In another, way however, many of us are already broken. Not broken bread, but broken people. We all have wounds and hurts that we carry with us, and we come to Jesus in the Eucharist, seeking to be made whole again. We come so that the hardships of life won’t crush us, but will instead bring us a little bit closer to Christ- he who was broken on the cross so that we might be healed. We seek broken bread to heal our very brokenness.

Just consider today’s gospel. Great crowds of people had followed Jesus into the wilderness- looking for hope, looking for meaning, looking for healing, looking for love, looking for God. Jesus knew their needs. He had pity on them; he cured their illnesses, and fed them until they were all satisfied.

And isn’t that what Jesus does for us in the Eucharist? Isn’t that what Jesus can do for us, right now? We come to him in our brokenness, and he in turn gives himself to us. He gives us his “eu charis,” which means “good gift” and he nourishes us, forgives us, strengthens us, heals us, and fills us with his own, abundant life. He heals our loneliness through his Real Presence. And he unites us to his sacrifice on the cross, so that we might be made whole, through his having been broken.

If you’re suffering right now- and that’s probably most of us in some way- I encourage you to attend Mass as often as you can. As I priest, I have the privilege of celebrating daily Mass, and through my ministry I’ve come to know the stories of many of those who worship with me. There’s the terminally ill patient; the lonely widower; the young man whose brother is in Iraq; the employee mistreated by her boss; the father with the sick child; the victim struggling to forgive; the addict looking for freedom; the husband with the strained marriage; the mother of the rebellious teen. We stand around the altar in our brokenness, asking Jesus to put the broken pieces back together.

And he does, because he loves us. That’s why he have us the Eucharist: To feed us as broken bread; to be present to us as broken bread; to send us forth to others as broken bread; and then, through that bread, to make us whole, once again.

Readings for today’s Mass:http://www.usccb.org/nab/073111.shtml

 

There’s Nothing We Can’t Handle Together

On our refrigerator is a little card with a picture of Jesus. On the back it says, “Lord, help me to remember that nothing will happen to me that we can’t handle together!”

I thought of this card as I reflected on Martha in today’s gospel. Martha, I think, is like so many of us today. As Jesus said, she’s “anxious and worried.” She’s also not paying attention to Jesus, which may very well be the reason she’s so stressed out in the first place. On the other hand, Martha’s sister Mary, who took the time to be with Jesus and listen to him, is calm and at peace. As Jesus said, she had the “better part.”

Perhaps something we’re meant to learn from this is that whenever we’re “anxious and worried” like Martha, we need to be like Mary and spend some time with Jesus. One thing I’ve been trying to do lately, first thing in the morning, is ask Jesus to help me turn all of my worried thoughts into opportunities for prayer, so that instead of dwelling on them and getting more stressed, Jesus might shed his light upon them and give me some of his peace. Through this little prayer, Jesus…

…reminds me that he’s in charge…

…invites me to hand all my troubles over to him…

…and, like the little card on my refrigerator, assures me that together, there’s nothing that he and I can’t handle.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/072911.shtml

Photo Credit: lmind1012 via Creative Commons

Stop. Look. Listen.

Railroad crossings in England have signs which warn: Stop. Look. Listen. These actions are intended to prevent motorists or pedestrians from being struck by a moving train. They might also be an appropriate response to Jesus’ words in today’s gospel.

Our Lord spoke of the end of the age: The good is separated from the bad; some rejoice, others weep. These words can shake us up and make us feel uncomfortable. But maybe that’s Jesus’ intention.

Heaven, of course, is where God ultimately wants all of us to be. At the same time, heaven is not presented to us as a guarantee. Not because God is vindictive, but because he respects our freedom. God is indeed merciful! At the same time, we cannot take God’s mercy for granted. Not because he’s going to take it away, but because when we take God’s mercy for granted, we begin to take God for granted. And that’s not where Jesus wants us to be.

Perhaps we can understand today’s gospel as an invitation to stop, look, and listen: Stop for a moment and examine our life; Look at how we live measures up with our faith; and Listen to Jesus’ words, then put them in action. Because if we want to be with God even a fraction of as much as he wants us to be with him, then the way we live will reflect our hope.

St. Therese of Lisieux put it well: “I will do anything,” she said, “for heaven.”

http://www.usccb.org/nab/072811.shtml

Photo Credit: myeralan via Creative Commons

Don’t Hedge Your Bets

“Hedge your bets” is advice we receive about many aspects of life. Are we striking out to follow our dreams? Better have a “fallback plan.” Saving money for the future? Be sure to “diversity your portfolio.” Tying the knot? Sign a “prenup” first.

Hedging our bets can sometimes be a prudent thing, as with investments and career choices. At other times, as with a “prenup,” it reflects our fear of commitment and failure.

Jesus, however, is quite clear that he doesn’t want us hedging our bets when it comes to being his disciple. His parables of the buried treasure and the pearl of great price represent his invitation for us to make a total commitment, a complete surrender, of our entire lives to him.

Such a commitment involves a great leap of faith, to be sure. But there’s a prize to be had- the riches of being a subject within the kingdom of God. Today, Jesus invites us to place all of ourselves at his disposal, so he can share all of his treasures of grace with us.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/072711.shtml

Photo credit: Charles Williams via Creative Commons

WWJGD?

I imagine that most of us are familiar with the popular slogan, “WWJD: What Would Jesus Do?” It’s a good question for us to ask when facing any choice. Today, however, we might ask ourselves the question, “WWJGD: What Would Jesus’ Grandparents Do?”

I say this because today we celebrate the memorial of Sts. Joachim and Anne, the parents of Mary, and the grandparents of Jesus. It’s from St. Anne that Mary learned to be a mother, and it’s for good reason that Anne is now honored as the patron saint of all Christian mothers.

I think that Joachim and Anne’s legacy of parenthood has much to teach all of us.

Tradition has it that when Anne learned from an angel that she was to have a child, she promised to dedicate that child to God’s service forever. That may sound quaint and old-fashioned to many modern ears, but if you think about it, many parents still choose to dedicate their children to something today. Unfortunately, they dedicate them, not to the service of God, but to the pursuit of worldly goals such as money, prestige, and power.

Indeed, all of us need to choose what we will dedicate our lives to, and it’s a choice we need to renew each and every day. As we consider our options, we might ask ourselves: “What would Jesus’ grandparents do?” I think they would tell us to pursue, not to a lifetime of worldly success, but an eternity of blessedness with God. Saints Joachim and Anne, pray for us!

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/072611.shtml

Image Credit: Wikipedia Commons