Lenten eye-openers

Looking today at Chapters 13, 14 and 15 in Rediscover Jesus.

Chapter 13: Who is the greatest?

I always knew that Jesus' teachings seem like a paradox in our Earthly world. The first will be last. The meek shall inherit the Earth. Turn the other cheek.. But I hadn't really thought about the children as paradox. This is more about losing context as centuries and cultures rise and fall.

We think of our own children as valuable, but even that wasn't always strictly true. I knew the Romans (and probably other cultures in the past) would let unwanted children die of exposure. But I had never thought about the actions and words of Jesus regarding children as radical. But the author points out that this is the case, and it is, now that it's been pointed out, I know this to be true.

Jesus doesn't want us to be like children, of course, in the irresponsible, immature sense. But he has said we are children of God -- all of us. So we are all valuable. Everyone. The addict, the bully, the nerdy and the beautiful. The homeless, the chronically ill, the hardworking Americans and the illegal immigrants. The people of Africa, Asia, Australia, Europe and the Americas. All of us. Even politicians.

And the words of Jesus, don't forget, were influential in more places than at church on Sunday morning. They changed the way children are regarded by most all civilizations and cultures. He influenced the fight against child labor, the abandoning of the practice allowing unwanted infants to perish, the focus we put today on education and care of children.

You see, children truly are among the most vulnerable among us. They are the ONLY vulnerable among us, but they are among those. As are the frail, the elderly, the homeless and poor, the lonely and ignorant, the mentally ill and the physically ill, all of those are given preferential treatment by God.

Those are Jesus' values. What are yours? Do they align with Jesus' values? 

I am finally coming around to both realize those values of Jesus, and to doing something about it. My values are changing, my worldview is changing and I am trying to step outside my comfort zone. It will be a long process. I hope I live long enough to see light at the end of the tunnel.

You see, we are at a disadvantage here in the wealthy United States of America. We are enjoying worldly wealth without even realizing it. We take for granted what people in Third World countries can only dream about -- plenty of clean, fresh water; pleasant shelters; access to technology and education. There's plenty more. We don't even realize how good we have it. And we often bristle at the thought of sharing with someone who didn't "earn" it, who doesn't "deserve" it.

But who are we to judge? We have trouble sharing with each others, sometimes more so than with shadowy "others" in other parts of the globe. But we also don't understand their suffering.

"Live justly, love tenderly and walk humbly with your God." Micah 6:8

"Jesus, set the child within me free so I can be more childlike with every passing day, and open the eyes of my soul that I may see your children all around me."

Chapter 14: Purity of Heart

This chapter views purity of heart as avoiding lust, sexual lust. Point taken. But ...

I see it a little bit differently. Maybe it's my age. I'm not really looking for a hot date, if you know what I mean.

But it still matters what we choose to look at, and how we perceive what our eyes show us. How so? Because we sometimes need to look at things that are really hard to look at. We WANT to avert our eyes, to NOT see how our own neighbors are living -- I'm talking about the homeless and marginalized in our own communities.

Because how can you look at those people and deep down inside, be comfortable with your own material wealth? So we look away, we avoid eye contact, we stare straight ahead and hope none of them approach us, make us see them.

We need to look. We need to talk to them. We need to get to know them as the individual people they are, the children of God they are in reality.

As the author points out, images are powerful. They cannot be unseen, once you've seen them. Ask anyone who works with the homeless and they will tell you it's so.

If you learn to control what you look at, how deep will the peace within you be? 

Also true. We need to look at things we don't want to, and we need to not look at things with longing, not just sexual images, but at advertising that tells us we need things we do not need. Stores filled with beautiful baubles that we do not need. That sort of thing.

And I do believe if I can accomplish some of this, just a little, I will find greater peace in my life.

"Jesus, purify my heart, purify my mind, purify my body and purify my soul."

Chapter 15: Making sense of suffering

Rose may remember this, I don't know. But I have a shadowy memory of us walking along the beach one summer as children, and we would walk on broken up shells on the beach until our feet hurt, and we thought we were suffering for God. We had been taught something about suffering, I don't recall exactly what, but we wanted to suffer in a holy way, in our childish way.

But in real life, suffering is no child's game. I lost my mother at age 12. Rose lost her father at a much earlier age. I lost my father just 11 y;ears ago, and Rose is taking care of her elderly mother.

One year, a recent year, 2010, I lost five people I knew and loved to cancer, all within a 6-month period. I've lost many others before and since, more on the since side, as I get older and more people suffer the ravages and indignities of aging.

There are the people who drive away and never come home. The young military troops who come home in coffins, or maimed and scarred forever. The child who is excited to start school, but is bullied and tormented until going to school is more like torture.

People are changed by suffering. Some for the good, some not so much.

But how does that play into the search for meaning in life? How does it teach us anything except to become bitter and angry at our fates?

It's not the suffering itself so much as it is the way we respond.

It's how we respond to the suffering of others as well as how we respond to what suffering does to ourselves.

It challenges our faith and it causes some to turn away from God entirely. Some even blame God for their suffering. But others accept it, even embrace it.

I do not think I handle seeing someone I love suffer very well. But how much worse would it be without faith that there is more to life than what we see and hear and experience in this earthly life?

Jesus promises us something better, when there will be no more crying, no more dying, no more pain. He promises to wipe away our tears -- again invoking that image of a child.

Just remember: God doesn't cause our suffering, we do. We torment ourselves and we cause others to suffer. God doesn't punish us, because we punish ourselves quite well, thank you very much.

Are you willing to suffer a little in order to grow spiritually?

I never feel like I'm willing, exactly, to suffer. I wouldn't 'run out to meet it as it approached my door. I would probably run out the back door if I saw it coming. But on the other hand, here I am, continuing to do the best I can and praying for help and guidance. It is comforting to know I am not alone.

"Jesus, teach me to embrace the unavoidable suffering of life and keep me ever mindful of those who suffer more than I do" (and remind me there are far more of those who suffer more than those who are better off).

Live, Give & Forgive

These are my reflections on Chapters Ten, Eleven & Twelve of Rediscover Jesus by Matthew Kelly.

Are you loving yourself the way God wants you to love yourself?

A part of me hates this question. I immediately flash on an entire self-help industry dedicated to improving my self-esteem and empowering me to live a very big life by focusing on myself. Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for healthy self-esteem. I want to get the most of my life. But in order to answer this question properly, I need to focus on the last half of it:

“…the way God wants you to love yourself…”

How does God want me to love myself? I have to put this question into the context of the two great commandments Jesus emphasized: 

"'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments." (Matthew 22:34-40)”

He didn’t add a third commandment. He didn’t say, “You must go into therapy in order to learn to love yourself before you love your neighbor.” He seemed to take it for granted that we love ourselves. So, what I conclude from this is, to love God is to love myself. The more I love God, the more I’ll love myself.

The analogy that comes to mind is sun bathing. If I bask in the sun, I’ll get tan. If I bask in the presence of God, I’ll reflect that influence. I’ll just start naturally acting like Jesus…loved, loving and lovable.

So I ask myself, how did Jesus love himself? Well, to make it short and snappy. He prayed and he served.

That being said, the question for me is, “Rose, are you loving yourself through prayer and service?”

The answer is yes. Although there are days I’d like to be praying in a spa and serving myself another glass of wine.

Thank you, God, that we practice loving ourselves when we love you and serve others. Amen

How is God inviting you to become more generous?

Eight years ago, I started getting the message it was time to start giving back. I began by volunteering to be a lector at my parish. I joined the choir, too. I started co-leading Kid’s Liturgy. A few years later, I began volunteering at a hospital, offering Reiki sessions to cancer survivors. A few years after that, I became a friend of the L’Arche Chicago folks. I hang out with them several times a month, and I’ve helped organize a ministry to them through our parish and outreach center. I even got John and myself to get our act together as regards to tithing.

Not content to give back at church, last year I joined the local Chamber of Commerce. I am a member of our health and wellness committee, and the chair of the Chamber Health & Wellness Speakers Series.

Not to mention, I am the primary caretaker for my 90-something mother.

Now I’m getting another message. It goes something like this: “Let’s go off by ourselves to a quiet place and rest awhile.” These are Jesus’ words to his hard-working disciples.  In effect, he was saying that even when you are out to save the world, take time to be generous to yourselves. Or you’ll burn out before you’re done with your mission.

I used to be much better at spiritual self-care. I took long weekend retreats four times a year at a local convent, nurturing myself on prayer, long walks and extra naps. For some reason, that hasn’t come as easily to me. But this Lent, I’m reminded of the old saying, “generosity begins at home.” And I’m recommitting to those quarterly retreats.

God, I am grateful for your Son’s work ethic, which included times of rest, prayer and play. Help me never lose that rhythm in my life.

How seriously do you take Jesus’ invitation to forgive?

Yesterday I was talking to my husband about this question. “Honestly,” I said, “I think forgiveness is a survival skill.” He nodded his head vigorously. After twenty years of marriage, I think we’ve both learned that without forgiveness, we couldn’t have lasted.

That’s not a very high and holy reason to take Jesus’ invitation seriously. But it’s practical, and lots of Jesus’ advice was practical.  So I don’t think he minds that I may forgive just as much to keep my blood pressure down as to bring about the Kingdom of God. In the end, I suppose, it’s all one and the same.

Jesus, give me the grace to forgive as you have forgiven me. Without it, I'll never survive.

Values, radicalism and great teaching!

Chapter 7: The Third Question

Before we address the "Third Question," we must recall the first two questions. The first two questions appear in the Gospel: Jesus asked his disciples "Who do people say that I am?" And then, he asked "Who do you say that I am?"

The third question doesn't appear in Scripture, but it's related. "Who does Jesus say that YOU are?

Well, that's a good question. And it's one that no one who knows us here on Earth can answer, because Jesus can see in us what no one else can -- not even ourselves.

Think about that for a minute. It's a little like asking who will be admitted to Heaven, at which point you realize why we are asked not to judge each other: Only God can see into our hearts, and only God can look at all the variables and circumstances in a complete way.

Jesus said we are children of God. Think of how valuable your children are. Most parents would lay down their lives for their offspring, without even thinking about it. That's really valuable. Why? Why do we as parents give so much of our time, our very selves, to our children, give up so much for our children, would even die for them if necessary?

And we are God's children.

And so here's the question:

Do you value yourself anywhere near as much as Jesus values you?

I doubt that I do. I mostly see my failings. I see what I've done wrong, what I've neglected to do, what I should have done, once it's behind me. I don't know what Jesus sees in me that's so valuable. I try to use my abilities and resources for good. But I'm never sure I succeed in that.

And what I am able to do, so are many other people able to do. Maybe it takes many of us doing the same thing to accomplish any good. So are all the parts necessary?

There was an interesting philosophy at the small college where I sent my older son. They kept track of student absences, and they always said that if one student failed to come to class to participate in the discussion, that absent student was depriving all the other students and the tutor (teacher) of his or her insights that day.

Not that the student was missing out by being absent, but that the student was depriving his classmates and teacher of the insights he might have brought to class that day.

And maybe that's it. Maybe that's chipping away at the idea that we are all valuable, that I myself have infinite value. It's not what I am missing, but what I might be providing to others but am not, that is at the root of this question about value.

And I find it comforting to think that Jesus values me, so much that he's willing to wait around patiently until I wake up and try to get with the program.

I hope that my thoughts help someone else, somehow.

Chapter 8: Jesus was a radical.

And what do you think "radical" means? Far out, really, really far out? Extremist? Political in nature?

Not exactly. It means getting to the root of things.

And Jesus was indeed a radical, really in both senses. But when he got into trouble with authorities, mostly it was because he focused on the spirit of the law and not the letter of the law. He said he came not to do away with a single letter of the law, but to fulfill every word of the law.

And he said the Sabbath was made for man, not the other way around. The laws were made for the benefit of man. Man was not, as the religious authorities of his day taught, made for the laws. Radical indeed -- shaking things up, not for the sake of change itself, but because he wanted us to get to the root of the matter.

If someone needed healing, don't allow that person to suffer needlessly for another day if you have the ability to ease his sufferings right now.

Jesus sees the world through a lens of truth -- radical truth. I am not sure we are capable of doing that all the time, not here on Earth. But we must try. It seems strange, because truth always makes us feel better, it simplifies our lives and it allows us to move forward.

Jesus is a radical, God is a radical, Jesus' life on Earth was radical. His teachings were radical. His love is radical enough that it changed the course of history.

The question:

When was the last time you had the courage to seek out the root of an important issue? 

I'll go back to this: I am committed now to eradicating homelessness and improving the lives of those afflicted in that way. I started to seek out the truth about them, how they got that way and the nature of their struggles and although it has literally taken years, I am beginning to act on it. I couldn't have done it without a chain of events that could not possibly have been coincidence: I got involved with Relay For Life. I met Jason, who joined my team with his family and who was feeling that same urge to get involved. I had been suppressing my call to help the poor for many,many years. I found a way to begin the journey through him and other friends. I am still struggling a bit with this, but I feel better because I am involved with likeminded people who are all working toward the same goal. I am not a mover or shaker in this endeavor, just committed to it. I look forward to delving deeper and getting more involved. Since then, I've been appointed to the United Way Board of Directors. I have served on a foundation committee at work that works with community grants. And now I see all these pieces beginning to come together.

It is nothing short of amazing, to be honest. Thank you, Jesus, for making this happen and for nudging me until I responded.

Chapter 9: The Greatest Teacher

Who was your favorite teacher when you were in school? Was it someone who taught your favorite subject in high school? Or was it someone who made you feel special, who recognized in you gifts, talents and abilities you had no idea were there?

But the greatest teacher, of course, is Jesus. This chapter suggests reading Scripture in a different way, meditating on them -- pondering them. The Gospels, this chapter points out, contain rare insights into the genius of the mind of God.

This makes me think of a hymn we used to sing in church: Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, what God has ready for those who love him. Spirit of love, come give us the mind of Jesus. Teach us the wisdom of God.

I can hear it in my mind, that hymn. The author says that realizing how the Gospels offer us a glimpse into the mind and genius of God changes the way we read them -- more deeply that just reading them and different from just hearing them proclaimed in church.

Jesus isn't a genius, the author points out, Jesus IS genius. His are the most influential words in history.

The question:

Have you ever really considered Jesus to be your teacher? 

Have I? I think so, but probably not as much as I should. Definitely not as much as I should. But it's a deeper thing than just the old questions: What would Jesus do? It's that, but more. Why would he do it? How would he do it? Should I also do it?

The answers to those questions go something like this:

What would Jesus do? He would do the right thing.

Why would he do it? Because he is incapable of doing less. And because he knows better than any of us what the right thing to do actually is.

How would he do it? He would do it in the simplest, most direct way possible. He would want others to recognize and imitate it.

Should I also do it? Yes, because Jesus came to Earth to model for us how to live life. How to treat each other well, how to spread love, how powerful love is. How to be patient and kind, forgiving and merciful, goodness and light to others.

If only it was that easy.

God is simple and pure and good and loving and merciful.

We humans tend to make everything complicated. We impose conditions and expect things in return and micromanage everything. We judge when we should not and forget how fragile we all are. We are impatient and unkind, unforgiving and lacking in mercy, goodness and light.

The 1st century Jews had managed to turn God's simple 10 Commandments into more than 600 laws. There are far more than that today.

And yet God still loves us and is waiting patiently for us to turn back to him.

That's what I try to do every Lent. Why is it so hard?

To answer the invitation?

New Beginnings, Getting to Know Jesus and an Invitation
So many new beginnings in the cycles and routines of our lives: Each morning as  I shower and prepare for the day ahead is a new beginning. Each Monday marks a new beginning as the week stretches ahead of me. Each season (winter, spring, summer and fall) is a new beginning. Each liturgical season of the Church is a new beginning, starting with Advent, then Christmas, Lent and Easter, interspersed with what we call Ordinary Time, which is not what you would think. It's hardly ordinary in the sense of plain old regular nothing-special-about-it time. But it's marked off by ordinal numbers, week by week.

And more than any other season, Lent is a time to reflect on new beginnings. Remembering, reflecting and rethinking is what Lent is all about. Remembering our past. Reflecting on how we're doing, what we did well and what we might do better. Rethinking how we will handle our tomorrows.

Since each chapter has a question at the end, that's a good way to reflect each week.

In what area of your life is God inviting you to experience a new beginning?

That is easy. God has been after me for a couple of years now to embrace new experiences, actually, to embrace a new direction in life.

Two years ago my parish offered a Lenten prayer walk that focused on looking at life in Third World countries. It was an incredible eye-opener.

We've had a sister parish relationship with Our Lady of Mercy in Managua, Nicaragua for more than 2 decades. I've know about it, I've met the pastor when he has visited us. I've paid attention to the presentations from the pilgrimage made by members of our own parish every other year. But never did I feel moved by them to do anything (other than donate money) until last year.

We, Rose and I, reflected on the information last year, a year after the prayer walk: the stations that made up that prayer walk, which was all provided by Catholic Relief Services. I have not stopped thinking about this since.

For the past two years I have increasingly felt tugged to do something. I can't leave my job or take a sabbatical, because I can't afford to do without the income, and I'm not sure they'd let me come back if they had to do without me for an extended period of time.

But we have people here in my own community who live in wretched Thrid-World-like conditions -- the homeless. They are dirty, they don't smell good and some of them are crazy, even scary. I wanted to help but I didn't want to hand out money to panhandlers who may or may not actually be homeless, who might be scam artists or drug addicts. So I kept rationalizing and ignoring them, turning my head the other way so I would not have to make eye contact. I continued to give money to the sisters here who devote their lives to working with the poor and homeless, and I waited.

Last winter, a friend of mine who had been talking for some time about wanting to help the homeless started to collect used clothing to distribute, not through regular channels, but just ride around and give things to homeless people on the streets. Not money. Just clothing and maybe some food.

From that humble idea came an organization that began, thanks to another friend who worked with the founder, weekly "distribution runs" on a somewhat fluid but regular route around Salisbury. I began riding with him occasionally as a volunteer, and it has changed my life and my views completely.

I've met and talked with several homeless people. One lives behind my workplace in the woods with her service dog. She is turned away from shelters because of the dog, even though she has a legitimate service dog license. I've hugged grateful people who had tears in their eyes when we gave them a warm coat and a cup of chili or bean soup.

Our group is now a registered 501(c)(3) charity called From Roots To Wings. Our mission is, for the present, to distribute clothing, food, portable snacks, toiletries and other necessities to people each week. No questions asked. No judgments about whether they deserve what we are giving them. Just giving -- but never money.

Our future mission is to establish a "housing first" project in which storage pods are transformed into permanent but basic housing for the homeless, again, no questions asked. From there, we hope to engage them with services that will hep them get back on their feet to whatever extent they are capable. It's a very long-term mission.

So yes, God is calling me to a new beginning in how I spend my time and efforts to make our community better, and to make life better for those who have the least in our community.

How well do I really know Jesus?

Chapter 2 asks the reader to write down everything you know about Jesus. I wrote, quickly: God, man, teacher, Jewish, loving, born to Mary (a virgin), birthday celebrated as Christmas, source of Christian faith, high priest, humble man, homeless itinerant, forgiving, healer, miracle worker, able to raise the dead and cast out demons, walks on water, peaceful, slow to anger, with me all the time.

I sometimes imagine him sitting beside me or just having a conversation with me. I try to imagine what he would say, how he would answer my questions, what advice he would give me. It's as real as it's going to get until I leave this earthly realm. My prayer life, my formal, contemplative prayer life, is lacking because it's hard to slow down, hard to find quiet time alone. But what is lacking there is made up for at least in part by the fact that I can feel his presence with me all the time.

Today's homily (Feb. 21), well, one of the two homilies I heard this morning anyhow, was about not living in fear, no matter what dire fate you are told awaits. That we should not fear anything that's simply Earthly in nature. The other homily talked about how we should welcome and embrace death, but not seek it, only to accept it in God's time.

I feel I know Jesus -- on a scale of 1-10 -- at maybe a 4, because of that presence, and because I try to act on what I feel called to, in some fashion, ie I try to do what I am being told to do.

What area of your life will benefit most from accepting God's invitation to rediscover Jesus?

That's a complex question. And the honest answer is: I have no idea. How could I know? Maybe my self-esteem? My confidence? My ability to respond to my call? My ability to help others?

That's something that will be revealed as we go.

My Humble Reflections

Rediscover Jesus by Matthew Kelly is a forty-chapter book excellent for a personal or group Lenten retreat. The chapters are very short, and end with a point to ponder, a relevant scripture, a question to answer, and a prayer. I've been reading a chapter a day, along with my friend Susan. We're taking turns writing our reflections on three chapters at a time. 

I've chosen to publish the answers to questions, and follow with my own prayers. Here are my humble reflections to chapters 4, 5 & 6. These are very personal responses and not meant to be deathless prose. Just me sharing, as it were, in a virtual Lenten book club of sorts. So, if you choose to read along with us, I'd love it if you'd share your reflections here as well.

Have you ever really explored the Jesus question?

Yes, it’s the easiest question on the test for me. Yes. Definitely, yes.

A year or so prior to my momentous conversion at seventeen (August 18^th, 1973), God started three different conversations with me.

First, we started talking about the weather. I knew the story about how Jesus calmed a storm at sea, and concluded from that He must be good at controlling all sorts of weather. So I found myself shyly praying to God for good weather. That’s all. Please don’t let me get caught in a rainstorm walking home for school. Please send me perfect sun-tanning temperatures and awesome body-surfing waves at the beach. Please let it snow enough to make the sledding good.  

Beneath this “ice-breaker” conversation, a deeper dialogue was occurring. I could tell because every now and then this very random thought would come to mind: “Well, even if Jesus isn’t God, it was very nice of him to die for us.” Now why would I think that, if I wasn’t already considering the “Jesus Question?” But it wasn’t an intellectual endeavor. It was like some great spiritual stew was simmering in the crockpot of my heart, just below the surface of conscious awareness.

Lastly I started having dreams about Jesus. I have two very specific dreams that, to this day, speak very deeply to me about who I am to Jesus and who he is to me. 

In one dream, I was shown the crucifixion scene. Jesus was on one cross. Two men were hanging on crosses to either side of him. It was made clear to me I had to choose one of those two crosses. Would it be the cross of the man who reviled Jesus? Or would it be the cross of the man who asked Jesus to remember him when He came into his kingdom. 

The other dream I call my “Sleeping Beauty” dream.  A few weeks before my 17^th birthday, I had taken a nap in my grandmother’s room. In the dream, I was watching myself sleep when Jesus sat on the foot of the bed and looked at me with deep love. Then, he leaned over to kiss me on the cheek, which shocked me awake.  Not long after, I began to experience Christ in a deeply personal way. But I consider that dream to be the beginning of my journey with Christ, the moment of my soul’s resurrection.

Dear God, I thank you for the gift of faith you have infused into my spirit. It is not something I have to create. Let me never forget the sacred moments in my life that led me to believe in your Son.

What’s holding you back from believing in Jesus completely? 

I do believe in Jesus completely. It’s those knuckleheads I live with who don’t, and they are driving me nuts with their constant nattering.  On and on. Am I talking about my roommates? No. My husband? No. My children? No. I’m talking about the unholy trinity: Doubt, Denial and Betrayal. Or, as I like to call them, my inner Thomas, Peter and Judas.

After my conversion, my faith was passionate and pure. Not a single cloud of doubt in the sky. But over the years, these three yahoos started showing up at my back door more and more often. Like hoboes on the hunt for a free meal, now they let themselves in without even knocking. They stand around the kitchen, noshing on my bagels and drinking my coffee, yammering in my ear about whether God is trustworthy, whether God’s doing a good job, whether God exists, whether I shouldn’t consider a trial separation, at least. Try out something new. Get a little excitement in my life.

I’ve tried everything in the book to get rid of them. I put them in therapy for a while. That didn’t work. I take them to confession every now and then. They just make a bunch of promises they don’t bother keeping. I try just flat out ignoring them, but then they throw temper tantrums, rolling around on the floor like overtired children, clamoring for attention.

I’ve also tried thanking God for them. Peter’s denial led to humility and faithful love. Thomas’s questioning nature led to unshakeable faith. Judas betrayal put Jesus exactly where he needed to be to fulfill his destiny. So maybe, if I can just put up with them a little longer, my inner Pete, Tom and Jude will polish up my faith to a pearly shine, like sand in an oyster shell.

Then nothing will hold me back from believing in Jesus. Not even me.

Dear God, thank you for showing compassion and forgiveness towards me when I am tempted to deny, doubt or betray my faith. May the challenges I face transform my “unholy trinity” into the cardinal virtues of faith, hope and love.

Do I have a really good reason not to take Jesus at his word?

Ten Really Good Reasons to not take Jesus at his word:

1. Bible Scholars who debunk the Bible as a patchwork quilt of sayings and writings that may or may not be attributable to Jesus. As in, maybe he never said he was the Son of Man. Things like that.  Things that sow reasonable doubts.

2. …

OK, one really good reason, and maybe that’s not a very good one at that. Because, as Saint-Exupery wrote, “It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” I don’t know what makes the Bible hang together as the inspired Word of God. My mind will never understand it. But the intuitive intelligence of my heart tells me it is so.

Dear God, thank you for the intuitive intelligence of my heart. Remind me when I rely overly much on my mind that I am only thinking with half a brain…and not necessarily the better half!

Ash Wednesday

Universal hunger: Chapter One talks about the superficiality of our culture and society how illusion and appearances matter more than substance. And that has created a hunger that I have seen in many people, many of those people I have met in ministry. I've seen it in young adults, too. So many people searching for something that is not well-defined for them.
And so many websites, podcasts and books seek to fill that hunger, satisfy their yearning, tell them how to find it.
At every Easter Vigil, at many RCIA sessions, I've witnessed the joy people feel when they find the thing they've been searching for. The grown man, kneeling in the poll as the holy water is poured over him, raising his face to experience fully every drop of that life-giving water as it is poured down on him, huge smile lighting his face. The elderly man too arthritic to climb into the pool unaided, but so wanting to experience the sensation of baptismal water flowing down on him. The young woman, normally meticulous about her appearance, grinning from ear to ear as her hair drips.
What have they found that made them so unashamedly filled with joy?
Is it the same thing so many others are searching for but are clueless about?
They came before us timidly, months ago, asking to be baptized or seeking to be welcomed into our congregation, to become one with the Body of Christ on Earth. And on the holiest of holy nights, their wishes are fulfilled and it's better than they had imagined.
This has been happening for 2,000 years, the seeking, the hunger for truth and light, the need to find God and get to know him in all his glory and mercy.
If we all hunger for the same thing, why is it so difficult to find, to grasp and embrace?
And most of all, why are so many young adults feeling that hunger, yet rejecting the very thing they long for?
I know people who practice the basic tenets of Christianity more faithfully than most professed Christians, yet they reject God, they do not accept the divine nature of Jesus, they attribute all their good works to themselves, to their own innate goodness.
They reject the idea that as humans, we are broken and in need of God's mercy. They reject the notion that they need to be anything other than what they are. And yet still they search.
They've seen the hypocrites who would exploit them for personal gain, and they reject that. Perhaps they reject all of Christianity because of those relative few.
How can they know truth? How do we recognize God, the true and living God?
It's the truth that we all seek, the goodness for its own sake, the kind of truth we willingly make sacrifices for because that truth is so much better than any material gain.
And it's there, waiting to be found, that truth.
Where do you search for truth? In the shopping mall or salon? In working longer hours so you can buy a fancier house or new car? On television or YouTube? In books that promise (you fill in the blank, I guarantee you'll find a book or video promising to share the secret of how to achieve or find it)? Do you send money to televangelists who promise salvation if you just send them one more check, who preach what is sometimes called the "gospel of prosperity" because it promises if you send enough money, God will shower you with prosperity, good health and a pleasant life?
I found a sense of belonging in Catholicism. I found a faith that encourages me to reflect on my values, to consider its teachings carefully and to apply those teachings to my everyday life. I found a faith that teaches me to love others unconditionally, to put the needs of others before my own, that promises nothing in terms of worldly wealth but does guide me toward a clearer conscience and a sense of comfort in knowing I am loved even in the broken, imperfect condition I am in today.
Where are you searching? To whom do you turn? What do you seek?

And Chapter 2: The Prevailing Philosophy
This talks about culture, our high-speed, information-overload, throwaway, trend-seeking, ideology-driven world.
And it asks: What is your personal philosophy?
Do you believe in the American version of rugged individualism? Or do you feel a need to live in community with others, the "it takes a village" concept? Maybe it's something in between.
Chapter two talks about some problematic philosophies, too, like hedonism, individualism, and minimalism.
Catholics live in community -- the family is a basic community, but also their faith community and the community of the worldwide Church. Further, we live in community with those who went before us -- the communion of saints.
We are all connected. That's a concept I see repeated a lot on social media these days. One of the few, actually, that I agree with. We ARE all connected. And we ARE our brothers' keepers.
Here's a question to ponder: Would you be happier if you could have all the naterial goods you desired but no friends, or if you had many, many friends, but little in way of material wealth or goods? Don't answer quickly, think about it for a few days. Put yourself in each scenario, think about living that way for the rest of your life.
Which would make you happier -- giving up your material wealth to have a multitude of friends or shunning your friends so you could have worldly riches? And consider what impact each option would have on your community -- your town, your workplace, your church, your family, your neighborhood. It's a good question to mull as we enter the penitential season of Lent this year.
Have a blessed day.

Getting back to our Catholic roots

It will officially be Lent 2016 starting Ash Wednesday, Feb. 10.
Rose and I will be sharing this blog again throughout Lent. This year we are writing about a book we both have a copy of. It's called "Rediscover Catholicism" by Matthew Kelly, and mine  is a gift (was supposed to be summer reading) from my parish, St. Francis de Sales, last Easter. I started it but never finished. Not sure where Rose got hers or whether she's read any of it before now, but we are going to be reading and writing about it for the next seven weeks. Thank you, Rose for suggesting this as our topic this Lent.
I was going to start with the first two chapters, and I will get to those.
But I was struck by the prologue, and so I will first reflect on that on this Ash Wednesday.
Imagine a billboard on a busy street or highway anywhere (the book suggests Chicago). No pictures or images (think of the billboards we saw a few years ago, all white with smallish black text on it). One in Salisbury said something like this: "What is it about 'thou shalt not commit murder" that you don't understand? Don't make me come down there." God
Well, this would be similar, but here's what it would say: "This year Catholic Charities will provide 2.2 million free meals to the hungry and the needy of (fill in your hometown, the number mentioned is Chicago). We don't ask them if they are Catholic -- we just ask them if they are hungry."
This is inthe prologue, and while it would look unremarkable and to the uninitiated, perhaps even self-serving, it's significant.
In all the controversy and ugliness the Church has endured in recent years, some people, even some Catholics have forgotten what the church is really about. Our Holy Father, Pope Francis is reminding us of our roots, setting an example for us of the humble servant who shows preference for the poor and marginalized, the corporal and spiritual acts of mercy. The church has gotten lost in its missteps -- and they are horrible, make no mistake -- but lost sight of the enormous good it does in the world.
We have ministries in my community that exist for the purpose of helping the homeless and marginalized. They are not Catholic, which should not make a difference. But they use people's poverty and need to proselytize, to manipulate people into professing faith in God in order to get help.
The proverbial billboard message is a stark reminder that Christians should be about the mission of feeding the hungry clothing the naked, sheltering the homeless, visiting prisoners, ministering to the sick and homebound and giving drink to the thirsty. Not about making sure they are Christian or willing to profess anything as a condition for getting that help.
There is also a Catholic ministry to the poor in our community. The sisters who run this ministry will pray with the people they help, but they do not make it a requirement to receive help. These nuns are wonderful people who are always smiling, happy, prayerful people who seem to have boundless energy and stamina to help those who need it most. They find joy in life's simple things.
Pope Francis also reminds us of the spiritual acts of mercy, which some folks might find more taxing: Instruct the ignorant, pray for the living and the dead, forgive all injuries, patiently bear all wrongs, warn the sinner, comfort the sorrowing and counseling the doubtful.
The Holy Father also tells  us to be good stewards of all of God's creation, and that includes our environment -- the trees, the land, the water, the air and everything that shares those resources with us. But that's not the focus of the next several weeks.
Ironically, last year one of the topics we reflected on was the plight of refugees. Since then, we've faced the Syrian refugee crisis, which has not only divided our nation and much of the western world, but also taxed the resources and patience of Europe and to a lesser degree, the United States. When we wrote those reflections, little did we know.
And so starting Ash Wednesday, we will each write about four chapters of the book, two chapters per blog entry, twice a week each.
Next up will be "Our Universal Hunger" and "The Prevailing Philosophy." See you in a few days!