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?

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!

Those feet are made for walking

These are the feet of Jesus, tired, dirty and aching.
They just completed a three-hour walk to get water for the family,
a trying journey for the most basic of necessities.

I look at my feet, and I think about the paths that I have walked
in comfortable, well-fitting shoes that keep out the dust and dirt.
Shoes that walk well-paved roads leading to life's abundance.

Nonetheless, while the paths we walk may look differently, our journey is the same ... to walk humbly with our God.
-- "One on the Journey," Catholic Relief Services

A few years ago, I read a book called "Sitting at the Feet of Rabbi Jesus" and then another by the same authors, "Walking in the Dust of Rabbie Jesus." Both books that talk about feet, and the journey we are all making to find our way with God. Feet were more important in the world Jesus inhabited as a man. Without feet, men were reduced to beggars who could only sit and ask passers-by for pennies.

In 1st century Jewish culture, sitting at the feet of a rabbi meant being a student, a devoted disciple. And walking in the dust of a rabbi meant being immersed totally as a companion on the journey. When Jesus told his apostles to shake off the dust of a town whose inhabitants rejected the message they had come to share about Jesus and God's love and mercy, he didn't mean they should just take a shower and head out. He meant they should not immerse themselves in that rejection, but instead continue on their journey, carrying out the mission he had tasked them with -- spreading the good news of his teachings to all who would be open to hearing it.

Today, we have modern medical science and engineering that has produced prosthetics and mobility devices, and laws that require employers to make accommodations for the handicapped. Instead of sitting on a street corner with a jar for coins, we try to give people whose feet or legs or hands may not function as intended an opportunity to earn a living, contribute to society and live with dignity. We try to show them respect just as we would anyone else. Not everyone embraces the opportunity, and some have more trouble than others stepping up to the challenge, but at least we don't reduce them to pitiful beggars asking for handouts in public -- although some still choose that lifestyle.

That's the good news. But it's not all good. Increasingly we see disparity in wealth, with immense concentration of wealth in the hands of relatively few people. Middle class families struggle to make ends meet, and hardworking people are just one accident or illness away from becoming those beggars who have nothing.

How are my feet the feet of Jesus that walk the paths of justice, mercy and humility?

I pay attention to the news. I think we live in a world -- an age -- when information is overwhelming and it can be difficult to sort through to glean truth and discard the rest. I live in a privileged society compared to the one lived in by the feet in the picture, no qsuestion about that. But like the middle class families I just described, we, too, are living on the edge. Balanced for now, but teetering on the brink of losing it all.

I still do what I can. Is there more I could do? No doubt. I intend to continue purging my house and trying to make sure my excess finds it way to someone who needs it. Someday perhaps I will have an opportunity to do something more hands-on, whether it be as a volunteer here at home or through an opportunity to travel and provide even more basic necessities to people who need it.

I haven't walked the walk of the man who walked three hours to get water for his family, but I have walked as a younger person in the path of need. I don't have a lot of material wealth to share, but I can do better at sharing what I do have -- compassion, companionship, and someday, more time.

How am I called to walk alongside my brothers and sisters who struggle for the basic necessities of life?

All I can do is try to be open, to recognize opportunities and when they appear, to seize them and listen, share, and embrace those brothers and sisters. The hardest part is to do so without being cynical, wondering if they are scamming me, to be thinking with part of my mind that they did something to bring on their problems. Perhaps they did. So what? We all make mistakes. Some of us are able to rise above them but not all of us manage to do so. To offer food, drink, clothing, those are things I can help with from time to time.

How do I live simply so others may simply live?

Now there is a challenge. I can live simply, and I am trying to simplify my life right now. It's a struggle unto itself. I could live a much simpler life, but how does that translate to enabling others to simply live? That's a mystery to me. We all think about what we'd do if we won the lottery, right? I've always thought I'd establish a scholarship fund to help young single mothers get an education, to help them lift themselves out of poverty and give their children a better life as a result. It's a nice dream, but let's face it, I'm not going to win a lottery.

So how does my living simply help others to simply live? It's hard to make anything happen if I'm the only one. It's only if overall demand for limited resources can be decreased in our country, and only if we then would somehow make sure that those resources were more equitably spread among the people who need it the most. It's not something I can answer right now, but only to continue praying about and hoping for clarity from God --  in time to take action and make a difference. It has to start somewhere, but it will take many voices, many sacrifices, done in a purposeful and meaningful way, for real change to take root.

Who's with me?

"... only to do right and love goodness ... to walk humbly with your God." Micah 6:8

The Boomerang

                                                                                                                                                         Criticism is a sport at which my husband excels, but which I cannot abide.  So much so that for Lent he

offered to give up being critical...around me.  He knows how much I dislike criticism.  It upsets me no end, and makes me loooooong for an internet-free world, and a talk radio-free world, and a pundit-free world. It makes me long for heaven, and believe me, I thought I'd died and gone there when he told me what he planned to do for Forty.  Glorious.  Days.

But for John, offering his critical insights on everything from...well, on everything is as much fun as a game of table hockey.  So, you'll notice, he clearly reserved the option to cut loose whenever I'm not around.  That's fine with me.  As C.S. Lewis once said, "a heaven for mosquitoes and a hell for men could very conveniently be combined."  So let the mosquitoes gather where they will (probably at the local cigar lounge), just as long as I'm not there!

It's not that I believe all criticism is bad.  Constructive criticism can be highly useful--maybe even lifesaving--feedback to help me improve myself.  Almost daily I seek this kind of criticism from the Bible. "For the Word of God is alive and active, sharper than any double-edged sword.  It penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow.  It judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart."  (Heb. 4:12)  Inviting that kind of criticism into my life leaves me feeling clean, albeit a tad uncomfortable with myself from time to time.  It's refreshing, renewing, and hopeful, offering solutions.

But when criticism is unedited, unfiltered and un-reflective, it is just the opposite.   It's like a jab in the eye with a sharp stick.  And in my opinion, that stick is quite often the plank jutting out of the eye of the one offering the criticism.  It leaves me feeling defensive, hurt and angry.  It leads me to joust with my own barb, fulfilling the words of Jesus: "Don't pick on people, jump on their failures, criticize their faults--unless, of course, you want the same treatment.  That critical spirit has a way of boomeranging."  (Matt 7:5, the Message)

I'd rather let mercy boomerang, wouldn't you?   Because what goes around comes around.

Pax et Bonum,
Rose