Category Archives: God’s love

Thoughts on the Sunday readings: God’s Strange Economics (Twenty-Third Sunday, A)

06 Saturday Sep 2014

Posted by in 23rd Sunday (A), debt of love, economy of self-gift, God's love, sacrifice

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The Catholic writer and speaker Fr. Robert Barron begins a session in one of his video series by stating, “You are not necessary!  Neither you nor I are necessary!”  I have often thought that this would make for an ironic hallmark card.  On the front cover – “You are not necessary!” – and inside – “Have a nice day!”  But Fr. Barron is not being flippant in this; rather he is stating an important spiritual truth.  None of us, none of creation, everything that we see and discover around us – none of it is necessary.  All of it continually flows from God.  God alone is the one necessary; everything else from the largest galaxy to most finite speck of dust is dependent upon God and therefore not necessary. 
Whoa … this is heavy and it can quickly weigh heavy on one’s mind and life.  If all is dependent upon God then what happens if I really, really make him mad?  Does he need to be appeased?  Do I need to do absolutely correct every little thing that I think God wants done?  God seems then to be opposed to my thriving.  God, who alone is necessary, almost seems to be in competition with my freedom. 
This would be valid (Fr. Barron continues) were it not for one thing; “God is love,” writes St. John.  God is not the biggest unnecessary thing among other unnecessary things.  God is not the biggest part of creation among other parts of creation.  If these were indeed the case then yes, God’s presence would necessarily hinder my freedom, my thriving.  One limited thing always hinders, always limits another limited thing.  God is not one thing among other things; God is the source of all things and this source is love!  The presence of God in a person’s life does not hinder one’s freedom nor does the presence of God compete with one’s thriving because there is no competition! 
The quicker we learn this truth the better for us and the more easily we begin to grasp God’s economics.
No one likes debt.  I know that I don’t.  We want to be free of debt.  We work our whole lives to pay off debts – house, car, college – that we might one day be finally free of the weight of any debt.  In God’s economics there is a debt that we all carry, it can never be paid off and instead of denying life it brings life.  St. Paul, in his Letter to the Romans (Rom. 13:8-10) writes these words, “Brothers and sisters, owe nothing to anyone, except to love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law.”  We are all bound by the debt of love for one another, love for the stranger and even love for the enemy.  What a strange economics where debt brings life but when we live the debt of love then we, who are not necessary, participate in that which is necessary – the very nature and life of God!  
There is another component to the strange economics of God.  In this strange economics sacrifice displays wealth.  In God’s economics a large house, the latest gadgets, big toys (things which are not bad in and of themselves) are not the primary signs of success and wealth.  The surest sign of wealth in God’s economics is the willingness to sacrifice, the willingness to let go of self.  Authentic sacrifice is rooted in love for the other.  Parents sacrifice unreservedly for their children then, near the end of the journey of life, children have the opportunity to sacrifice unreservedly in love for their parents.  It may not appear on the cover of Fortune 500 but, in God’s economics, the surest display of wealth is sacrifice.  
The prophet Ezekiel tells us that we are to be watchmen (and women).  Part of being a watchman or woman in our day and age is to set our lives by God’s economics.  I think our Lord in today’s gospel (Mt. 18:15-20) invites us to carry this economics even into our dealings with one another in community and in family.  In God’s strange economics we all carry the debt of love and sacrifice witnesses to wealth. 

Thoughts on the Sunday readings: Seventh Sunday (A): The Law of Generosity

22 Saturday Feb 2014

Posted by in generosity, God's love, homily, love of God, love of neighbor

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The “eye for an eye” teaching that our Lord refers to in today’s gospel (Mt. 5:38-48) was actually an attempt to restrict violence in a time when revenge was indiscriminate and excessive.  In the revenge culture of the time not only was it the perpetrator of a violent act who became a possible target for reprisal but any member of the same family, clan, ethnic group or even someone “thought” to be responsible or connected.  The culture of revenge was excessive.  Sadly, the same mentality of revenge is still present and active in our world today.  
An “eye for an eye” therefore was an attempt to limit the continuous cycle of revenge and violence.  For our Lord though it was not enough.  His desire is not just to limit the cycles and structures of violence but to heal the human heart from which all evil desires spring.  Evil and violence can never overcome evil and violence, even when co-opted for a good.  Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. had an astute awareness of this truth.  In his writings and speeches we certainly find the call to end the massive injustices that the African-American community faced but we also find Dr. King reflecting on how the path of non-violence was also meant as a means to help heal those white brothers and sisters whose hearts were hardened by racism and prejudice.  
God says to Moses, Be holy, for I, the Lord, your God, am holy.  You shall not bear hatred for your brother or sister in your heart.  Though you may have to reprove your fellow citizen, do not incur sin because of him.  Take no revenge and cherish no grudge against any of your people.  You shall love your neighbor as yourself.  (Lv. 19:1-2, 17-18)
In contrast to the law of co-opted violence, our Lord calls us to the law of abundant generosity – to be holy as God is holy, who makes the sun to rise on the bad as well as the good.  God is love; he is abundant in his mercy.  Our Lord is not naïve; he knows the full weight of evil and violence.  On the cross, Jesus took on the full weight of sin and its structures.  
In the law of abundant generosity, Jesus is calling us to a pragmatism of generosity.  Evil and violence cannot heal the human heart (even when co-opted in an attempt for the good).  Evil and violence cannot end the cycles of revenge and violence … only love can.  When someone strikes you on one cheek, turn the other one.  When someone wants your tunic, give your cloak as well.  When someone presses you into service for one mile, go for two.  Our Lord proposes to us the pragmatism of generosity.  It is through this pragmatism that is found true healing for hearts that are wounded and hardened.  
There is a story told of a painter who arrived one day in a small town and set himself up in the town square offering portrait paintings. For a few days he sat in the square with no one purchasing a portrait.  On the fourth day the artist approached the town drunk (whom he had noticed earlier) and said, “Listen, come and let me paint your portrait.  I need to keep my skills up and at the end you will have a free portrait.”  The man agreed.  He sat in the portrait chair and straightened himself up as best he could.  The painter looked at him silently, reflected for a few moments, smiled and began to paint.  The painting continued for a few days but the painter would never allow the man to view the painting while it was in progress.  Finally, the portrait was completed.  The painter handed the portrait to the man and the man’s mouth fell open.  Pictured in the painting was not a town drunk but an accomplished man – there was a gleam in his eyes, he held a steady gaze.  Instead of scruffy clothes and a disheveled appearance, the man was clean shaven and wore a nice suit.  “What is this?” demanded the man, “You have not painted me.”  “You are right,” replied the painter calmly, “I have not painted you as you now are but as the man whom you might become.”
The pragmatism of generosity sees and responds to the other person in terms of who he or she is meant to be.  Jesus calls us to live this law of generosity – to be holy as God is holy.

The Feast of the Epiphany and a story by Franz Kafka

04 Saturday Jan 2014

Posted by in conspiracy of self and world, Epiphany, God's love

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There is a short story told by Franz Kafka.  In the story there is an emperor who is on his deathbed and he wants to send a message to you alone.  Yes, you – poor, insignificant subject that you are – living at the furthest edge of the empire.  But the message is extremely important to the emperor, so important that he summons a messenger and even has the messenger repeat the message back twice to make sure he has it memorized correctly.  After the second time of checking the accuracy of the message the emperor nods his head approvingly.  Then in the presence of his entire court the emperor dismisses the messenger and sends him on his mission to bring you the emperor’s message.  Immediately the messenger sets out, he is a strong and vigorous man but immediately he encounters resistance – the members of the court are so packed around the emperor each vying for his attention.  Bit by bit the messenger has to elbow and squeeze his way through the crowd.  Finally, he makes his way out of the royal chamber but all the rooms of the palace are packed with people!  He shows the royal insignia and this clears the path for a few feet but then he is faced with a wall of people again.  But the messenger is determined; he keeps struggling against the crowd – one room after another, down stairways and inch by inch through the courtyard.  Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity of struggle, the messenger passes through the final gate of the palace.  But now what lies before him is the vast imperial city, piled high with mountains of its own rubbish through which no one can make headway.  You, meanwhile sit at your window and dream about the message, as evening falls.  

A strange story for the Feast of the Epiphany when we proclaim and celebrate in faith that the glory of the Lord shines forth in our world!  Magi from the East arrive in this Sunday’s gospel (Mt. 2:1-12) looking for the newborn king.  All nations and all peoples share in the light of Christ!  A strange story by Kafka but a story that raises an important question; on the Feast of the Epiphany as we proclaim the glory of Christ for all nations do we actually allow the light of that glory to reach us – poor, insignificant subjects that we are, seemingly living on the furthest edge of the empire?  Do we believe that the emperor has a concern for us and a message so important for each one of us that even on his deathbed he is determined that it be sent?   
The vastness of the crowd and rubbish that the messenger valiantly struggles against is a joint conspiracy of self and world – our world’s preoccupations, biases, prejudices and determinations in what it considers important as well as our own weaknesses, our sins and our fears.  Together these continually try to block and hinder the messenger who carries the emperor’s message for you.  “Joy is possible!  Sin is overcome!  Life can be different!  A child is born in Bethlehem!”  In the birth of Christ, God begins to whisper this one message for our world and meant for each one of us, “Tell the world that I love it and am dying for its sins!”  As we sit at our windows, thinking ourselves at the furthest edge of the empire, do we actually allow this message to reach us or are we content to just dream about it? 
Here is a new year’s resolution that I will bring to you just as it is has been laid on my own heart from this Sunday’s readings: this new year, let us pray God that by his grace (and it is only by his grace that this is possible) we come to recognize this conspiracy of self and world active in our lives that keeps the messenger distant and removed and let us, with every ounce of our ability, do all that is possible to overcome that conspiracy.  This year, let us not just proclaim that the glory of Lord shines forth, let us receive and welcome that glory into our own hearts and let us tear down whatever might separate the light of that glory from reaching us and reaching all of our brothers and sisters! 
“Tell the world that I love it and am dying for its sins!”

In Praise of the Imperfect: Lessons Learned from a Christmas Tree

04 Wednesday Dec 2013

Posted by in beauty, Christmas, God's love, goodness, grace, imperfection, Messiah, truth

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I am from a family of four boys.  Usually around this time of year when we were growing up two of us would be given the task of getting the family Christmas tree down from the attic.  For us this was no small feat.  The tree was set in a large and heavy cardboard box.  Our main technique in regards to this task was shuffling the box to the top of the stairs, putting the front edge over the top step, lifting up the back of the box and then just letting it go!  The box would noisily slide down and come to a solid thump against the wall at the bottom of the stairway.  We would then wedge it out the doorway and into the hall.  This annual rite of retrieval gives an adequate portrayal of how this poor tree was treated over the years!  

It was the only tree I remember from my earliest Christmas’s and it remained a holiday fixture in my family’s home up until my first couple of years in college.  The tree consisted of a metal base, a three-piece wooden “trunk” with slots for the branches which varied in length.  The branches were made of a twisted metal with artificial, plastic needles comprising the greenery.  
It was never that beautiful of an artificial tree to begin with and over the years it became even less so.  One year a bird flew into the house immediately followed by our barking dog.  The bird landed in the tree; again, immediately followed by our barking dog!  This brought the tree down to a crashing thud, scattering ornaments everywhere!  The tree always had a bend to it after that year.  The ravages of Christmas wore on the tree.  After so many years there were just massive and solid wads of silver tinsel that could not be removed nor hidden.  Some branches gained bare spots as the plastic needles melted away after coming too close to the hot and large multi-colored Christmas lights.  At some point a couple of branches were lost.  (How do you misplace branches of a Christmas tree?)  It also did not seemingly help the cause that our parents made my brothers and I place tacky and not very attractive ornaments – made by ourselves as young children – on the tree each year.  All this being said; it was a wonder that we were able to assemble anything that even remotely resembled a Christmas tree each year.  
Yet we did and not only that, each year it somehow became quite beautiful.  After everything had been thrown on the tree – the new layer of tinsel, the ornaments, the lights, colored garlands – we would turn off the lights and stand back and gaze in wonder at the beauty of our tree!  When we were young, my brothers and I would lie under this very imperfect tree, with our heads touching the base and look up and it was beautiful – the lights, the ornaments, the branches…  It was like looking into a different world!  
Now that I am older I have come to realize something that my parents understood as they insisted that we not toss out the tree in favor of a “newer” and “more improved model”.  Our tree was made beautiful not in spite of its imperfections but because of its imperfections.  Somehow the tacky ornaments, the burnt branches, and the gobs of tinsel came together to make something quite beautiful and even magical each Christmas. 
This is a part of the great mystery; beauty and truth and goodness are found not in spite of our imperfections nor apart from them but in the very midst of our imperfections and even because of our imperfections.  This is an aspect of the mystery we await each Advent.  In the coming of Christ we realize that God does not abandon the imperfect.  We can often think that the contrary is the case.  Only when we are perfect will we then win affection and care!  Only when we are perfect will we achieve fulfillment!  The message so often told us, “Be perfect, or at least pretend to be, and abandon the imperfect!”  Yet, what a cold, lonely and ugly world that creates!
God does not abandon the imperfect and because of this Christians cannot abandon the imperfect and this includes even our very selves.  We are imperfect and God loves us.  God loves us and yet (at least in this world) we remain imperfect.  “My grace is made manifest in weakness,” says the Lord.  In other words, “God’s beauty shines forth!”
There is a freedom and a joy found here that the world just cannot match and also that the cultured despisers of Christianity fear (although they are loath to acknowledge it).  When we deny the Messiah and the need for one then we all must become messiahs unto ourselves.  We must be perfect!  What an unbearable weight to carry!      
When I acknowledge the Messiah, when I await his coming and realize my need then I realize that the job of “messiah” has already been filled.  I do not have to carry that weight!  I do not have to pretend to be perfect!  I can learn to be comfortable in my own skin and in who I am!  I can gain an authenticity that the world cannot afford because it is an authenticity rooted in the very fact that I am imperfect and yet I am beloved of the Father!   
As a priest of eighteen years now I am beginning to understand a little of the subversive nature of the sacrament of reconciliation.  In a time that cries out, “Be perfect!  Abandon, reject and distance yourself from the imperfect!” the Church quietly in reconciliation chapels and confessionals around the world provides a space (maybe for some the only space) where we can honestly acknowledge that we are not perfect, that we make mistakes – sometimes quite painful ones – and that we are loved by God even in our imperfections.  One fruit of true reconciliation is an authenticity that the world just cannot give.   
God does not abandon the imperfect and because of this; goodness, truth and beauty can be found not in spite of our imperfections but even in their very midst.            

The divisive love of Christ: 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

18 Sunday Aug 2013

Posted by in compassion, God's love, love of God, love of neighbor, peace of Christ

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“Peace cannot exist without a strong and passionate love.”    

This Sunday’s gospel (Lk. 12:49-53) presents us with this truth for our consideration.  Christ speaks here as with a sense of urgency!  I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing!  What Christ brings to us is not a theory or a proposal but the very fire of God’s love!  This fire has a name: compassion.  At one point in Matthew’s gospel we are told that when Christ looked out on the vast crowd he had compassion for them because they were like sheep without a shepherd.  And how great is our Lord’s anguish until it is accomplished!  Our Lord burns with the love of the Father which is the love of compassion!   

Unfortunately, in our world, this love can be obscured and even suffocated.  The violence and indifference of our world can suffocate compassion.  Even we disciples can suffocate compassion when we turn from the invitation of our Lord to follow solely our own priorities and interests.  It is easy to resign ourselves to the world thinking, “well, that is just the way things are…”   

But, the Lord continually comes to us and says, I have come to set the earth on fire… Do you think that I have come to establish peace on earth?  No, I tell you, but rather division.  True compassion, when lived and witnessed, shocks us because – if even just for a moment – it forces our gaze away from ourselves and toward another.   

This is the divisive peace that our Lord brings to the earth.  The peace of the gospel is not the world’s peace – peace as a nice, reassuring intimacy and justification for isolation.  Christ did not come to the earth to defend the peace of our little self-centeredness; rather, he came to hold forth the call of love for others, for compassion.  Christ did not come to defend the peace of the rich man who did not notice the starving Lazarus at his door, nor did Christ come to defend the peace of the priest and the Levite who avoided the man lying helpless on the road.  This is not peace.  Rather it is avarice, meanness, insensitivity and just plain sin.   

Peace cannot exist without strong and compassionate love! 

The peace that Christ brings is divisive!  It divides us from our self-centeredness.  It divides us from our insensitivity to the needs of others.  It divides us from attitudes of resignation and withdrawal.  It shifts our focus and our heart toward the other in his or her need.  It will not allow us to resign ourselves to a comfortable, yet ultimately life-denying, sense of isolation. 

The fire that Christ brings to earth is the fire of God’s compassion.  It continues to burn and it continues to purify! 
 
Lord, enkindle in us the fire of your love!  

(Some thoughts in this reflection are borrowed from Bp. Vincenzo Paglia’s reflection on this Sunday’s readings.)

"Behold, I make all things new." Fifth Sunday of Easter (C)

27 Saturday Apr 2013

Posted by in God's love, love, sad logic of sin and death, willing the good of the other

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“Behold, I make all things new.”  Scene from The Passion of the Christ.

In this Sunday’s second reading from the Book of Revelation (Rev. 21:1-5a), John shares the vision of seeing a “new heaven” and a “new earth” with “the holy city, a new Jerusalem”.  As John writes, The former heaven and the former earth had passed away…  John then hears the One sitting on the throne proclaim, “Behold, I make all things new.”

In our gospel reading (Jn. 13:31-33a, 34-35), at the Last Supper after our Lord had just washed the feet of his disciples – showing by action what he is to now proclaim in word – Jesus says, I give you a new commandment: love one another. 

By holding these passages together – letting them inform one another – I think that we can say that the new heaven, the new earth and the new Jerusalem are intrinsically linked to the new commandment that is given to us.  God has chosen to “make all things new” precisely through the love revealed in Jesus Christ.  God does not choose force or fear or power or might to accomplish his purpose rather, God chooses loves because, as Scripture says, God is love. 

It is helpful to note that Jesus reveals this new commandment only after Judas had left.  Judas had made up his mind to betray the Lord.  Judas had chosen to remain captive to the sad logic of this world that chooses to only see things in terms of conflict, division, power and isolation.  Judas could not take in the truth of God’s way and of the very nature of God that our Lord reveals.  Judas was blind.  The sad logic of our world continues to remain blind and cynical to the ever newness and possibility of God’s love.  “Life is ever the same, look only to your own needs, nothing can ever be different.”  This is the sad logic of our world.  In the resurrection, the risen Lord breaks this sad logic just as surely as he breaks the chains of sin and death.

We must realize that this commandment of love is not of our origin nor our making.  On our own we cannot arrive at it.  On our own we cannot even dream of it or imagine it.  This new commandment of love comes from Christ and is in fact, Christ.  Christ present in our lives calls us to an ever new awareness and an ever new living of love.  I give you a new commandment: love one another.  As I have loved you, so you also should love one another.  The truth of these words need to sink into the depths of our hearts: as Christ has loved us … as Christ has loved us … as Christ has loved us … we should love one another.

Fr. Robert Barron begins his series on the Seven Deadly Sins and the Seven Lively Virtues by highlighting a profound spiritual truth.  The truth is this: we are not necessary.  We do not have to be.  The world and creation existed before we came on the scene and it will continue after we have exited the scene.  We are not necessary nor, in fact, is all of creation.  It is only when we wrestle and grapple with this profound and sobering truth that we come to recognize that the one necessary is God himself and everything else is contingent upon God.  The good news?  The new commandment?  God is love.  We are here, all of creation is here, only through the continual and generous outpouring of God’s love.  When we recognize this and are able to step away from the isolation of the self-absorbed ego then we can live in and even be a conduit of God’s own love.   

The more we love one another as Christ has loved us, the more we participate in the very newness of God’s love which overcomes death, sin and the sad logic of our world.  This is why the gospel can proclaim “blessed” those persecuted, mocked and derided for their faith in Christ because it is in the very face of the sad logic of this world that we are afforded the opportunity to love as Christ himself loves and that we ourselves can therefore participate in the very life of God who alone is necessary. 

St. Thomas Aquinas defined love as “willing the good of the other”.  There is a lot to this definition that can be fleshed out in a variety of ways but here I just want to highlight a couple of truths.  God in Christ has and continues to fully love us.  God, in Christ, wills our good.  God did not have to come to us when we were lost in sin and death but because God is love, God willed our good.  God came to us and took on the weight of sin and death.  Love is willing the good of the other. 

Here is the other truth.  When God wills it is accomplished.  We are not God, we are creatures.  We are not necessary.  When we love, when we will the good of the other, that does not necessarily mean it will come to be but this is okay because whenever we will the good of the other in whatever way or shape or form then we ourselves are participating in that very movement of the newness of God’s love.  I offer this because we all often hear one another say, “My spouse, my child, my friend, my sister, my brother is making really bad choices.  I love him or her but he or she does not change no matter how I try to help.”  “There is so much pain and hurt in the world.  I will try to do my part to help but what good does it really do?”  It is not on us to accomplish (that is God’s part).  “Behold, I make all things new.” proclaims the One sitting upon the throne.  It is only on us to will the good.  When we love, when we will the good of the other, no matter how small and insignificant it might seem, then we are participating in the ever newness of God’s love and we are moving beyond the sad logic of our world.

At the end of her life, when my mother’s body had pretty much given out on her, my mom could not do much but one thing she could do was watch the finches come to the bird feeder at her window.   When the feeder ran out she would remind me to fill it with new seed.  In her own little way, my mother was loving and willing the good of those little birds and God’s creation.  At the very end of her life, she was making the choice to participate in the ever newness of God’s love and not be bound by the sad logic of sin and death. 

The Lord said, I give you a new commandment: love one another.  

John heard the One sitting on the throne say, Behold, I make all things new.