Tag Archives: hope

The Transfiguration of our Lord: Extraordinary and Ordinary

20 Saturday Feb 2016

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The Transfiguration of our Lord by Giovanni Girolamo Savoldo

We can say that Lent is an extraordinary time lived in an ordinary season. We fast, we pray, we do works of charity – all while we also go about the ordinary rhythm of our lives.  We still go to work, we still go to school, we visit with one another, we pay bills…  The ordinary rhythm of life continues on even while we make the extraordinary journey of Lent.

We have echoes of this “extraordinary in the ordinary” in our readings for this second Sunday of Lent. In the gospel (Lk. 9:28b-36) our Lord takes Peter, James and John up on the mountain to pray.  The three disciples experience the transfiguration of our Lord as he is in prayer to the Father.  They catch a glimpse of the truth of who Christ is and they are awestruck … but the world continues on.  The other nine disciples were probably about the duties of an ordinary day, for the people in the closest village it was just another day like any other.  The world did not stop even as this amazing event occurs.  Peter, understandably, wants to remain in this extraordinary experience but the gospel goes on to say that he “did not know what he was saying.” Our God does not disdain the ordinary.  For God the extraordinary and the ordinary are not opposed.

Just as Jesus took the three disciples up the mountain to pray, we are told that God “took Abram outside” to see and count the number of the stars (Gen. 15:5-12,17-18).  Our God values our company.  He does not like to walk alone.  Even with the surreal and mystical image of animals being sacrificed and Abram in a trance, God binds himself to an ordinary group of people, Abram’s descendants, in order to walk with them through the running of time and history and thereby bring them (and through them all of humanity) into the fullness of his Kingdom.  Christ himself values our ordinary company.  The gospels are consistent in this message.  Christ does not see himself as some tragic, solitary hero.  Christ binds himself to his ordinary, little group of followers even as he is fully aware of their weaknesses and their limits.

“Yes,” says the author of Philippians, “our citizenship is in heaven” and to this we direct our lives but we now live our lives here in this world so “stand firm in the Lord” (Phil. 3:17-4:1). Our actions here in our ordinary world and lives should reflect the extraordinary glory of our citizenship in heaven which is the hope we journey toward.

For God the extraordinary and the ordinary are not opposed. The same ought to be true for us.  We can be awakened, our eyes can be opened to see the extraordinary in the ordinary if we allow ourselves to be “taken up” by Christ.  Just as Christ took the three disciples up the mountain to pray, just as God took Abram outside to gaze at the heavens, we need to allow Christ to take us and pull us away from our own selfishness and draw us into his own life.  If we allow this to happen then we can participate in a greater reality, our eyes will be opened and we will begin to see as Christ sees.  We also can be transfigured.

It has been said that the transfiguration “means breaking boundaries. It means contemplating how good the Lord is, how wide his horizons are, and how deep the demands of his Gospel are.”  May each one of us be a little more transfigured during this extraordinary time lived in an ordinary season.

The Feast of the Epiphany: following bees and following the star

02 Saturday Jan 2016

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beeSome of the best advice I ever came across regarding homily preparation was in an essay written by Annie Dillard. In the essay Dillard made use of the imagery of following bees as a way of exploring the adventure of writing.  If you want to find a bee hive (and honey) then follow a bee.  If you lose sight of the first bee then wait and when you catch sight of another bee follow it.  By so doing you will eventually be led to the bee hive.  The same is true for writing.  When an idea or thought, no matter how strange or non-sensical it seems at the outset, pops in your head then follow it.  Let the thought lead you even if you do not know exactly where it is going.  It may take you to where you want to go.  If it takes you only so far then stay there and wait for the next thought.

When I begin to pray over the readings I try to pay attention to what “pops” for me. It might be an image or a phrase or a play of words.  Then I try to let that lead me.  It may take me all the way to where I want to go or it may not.  It may take me only so far.  It may take me to another thought (sometimes one which I was not even expecting) or a book I once read, or a movie scene or a song lyric or a memory.  There are many times that I sit down to write out a homily following that first “pop” that I really have no idea where I am ultimately going or I end up in a spot I did not think I would end up at.

Following bees takes patience, trust and faith. Following a star also takes patience, trust and faith.  But certainly there is a difference.  A bee is a small thing, easily overlooked and lost, and the star of Bethlehem must have shown bright for all to see.  The gospel (Mt. 2:1-12) tells us that the magi from the East recognized the star but it seems that all of Jerusalem was oblivious.  Herod, after all, had to ascertain from the magi the time of the star’s appearance.  Apparently, the star had not really made much of an impression upon Jerusalem.  Maybe the star of Bethlehem was not as bright and overpowering as we so often assume from Christmas imagery?  Maybe it takes more faith, more trust and more patience to follow a smaller star than a larger and brighter one?  Yet the magi followed.  They raised their eyes to the heavens and saw the star and they followed.

In the first reading (Is. 60:1-6) we hear the prophet Isaiah admonishing Jerusalem to rise up! Yes, darkness covers the earth and there are thick clouds that envelop the people but the light has come! “Raise your eyes and look about,” proclaims the prophet.  Yes the light has come but for our part we must raise our eyes.  We can almost say that Jerusalem was content to be oblivious and to be oblivious means to keep our eyes down and not even dream of raising them.  To be oblivious means to give in to the darkness of sin and violence and the thick clouds of resignation that tell us that this is just the way things have always been and will always be.

In the Epiphany we are no longer afforded the luxury of remaining oblivious. The light of God has appeared for all nations, for all peoples and for all times!  As Christians we must learn the discipline of the magi.  We must raise our eyes and look about!  We have to learn the faith, the trust and the patience needed to follow the star.  We have to be willing to let our faith lead us even when do not fully know where it is going.  We have to learn to follow even the smallest stars that point us toward God and his Kingdom.  And we have to resist, in every way, the voices of resignation – the thick clouds that can cover the earth and cover our hearts.

As Christians, we celebrate the Epiphany – the light of Christ has dawned for all peoples and nations. As Christians, we must be the Epiphany.  Our very lives must reveal the light of Christ in our world.  We begin to do this by making the choice to raise our eyes, to look about and to follow the star of God’s Kingdom.

Mary’s witness: Fourth Sunday of Advent (C)

19 Saturday Dec 2015

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maryTwo things struck me as I prayed over the gospel this past week. The first is when Luke tells us that Mary entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth.  I found myself returning again and again to that scene in my imagination.  How joy-filled it must have been!  Mary stepping into this house which for too long had been barren of the sound of new life, the sound of children.  Elizabeth said that the child in her womb leapt for joy at the sound of Mary’s greeting – a confirmation of what the angel had promised Zechariah.  What was thought barren will now bring forth life and it will be a life that, in turn, will proclaim the coming of the Messiah!  For nothing is impossible to God.

Mary comes to Zechariah and Elizabeth not as we are, weakened and wounded by sin, rather she comes as God would have us. On December 8th we affirmed that Mary is the Immaculate Conception.  In a great mystery she is preserved from sin.  In Mary we see not the exception but in fact the true norm – the human condition as God intends.  Mary reveals our true nature and dignity where sin obscures, denigrates and denies.  The very presence of Mary reveals that sin and evil are, in fact, the exception and will always be so.  Sin and evil have no true power.  Sin and evil can destroy and tear down life but they can never bring forth new life.  God alone is the author of life.

Mary is the true missionary of hope and Mary stands as the great witness to the impotence of evil.

The second thing that struck me is when Elizabeth proclaims Mary “blessed” because she believed that what the Lord had spoken to her would be fulfilled. Someone recently asked me if Mary could have said “no” to the angel Gabriel and refuse God’s request.  Mary certainly had free will in that moment and it was a free will untainted by original sin.  Mary chose to believe.  Despite all things to the contrary – the darkness and violence of the world, the confusion of what the angel’s words meant, the scandal that would be in the eyes and thoughts of people – Mary chose to believe that what God had spoken to her would be fulfilled.

This last Sunday of Advent, standing before the celebration of Christmas, Mary witnesses to us the true impotence of evil and that God alone is the author of life. Mary also witnesses to us the choice to believe that what God has promised God will fulfill.  We need to live the hope of this season and we need to learn from Mary how to be missionaries and witnesses of hope.

Recently Archbishop Joseph Kurtz (current president of the U.S. Conference of Bishops) shared the following words in a statement regarding the violent times we find ourselves in and how we are to respond as Christians.

We must not respond in fear. We are called to be heralds of hope and prophetic voices against senseless violence, a violence which can never be justified by invoking the name of God. Watching innocent lives taken and wondering whether the violence will reach our own families rightly stirs our deepest protective emotions. We must resist the hatred and suspicion that leads to policies of discrimination. Instead, we must channel our emotions of concern and protection, born in love, into a vibrant witness to the dignity of every person. We should employ immigration laws that are humane and keep us safe, but should never target specific classes of persons based on religion. When we fail to see the difference between our enemies and people of good will, we lose a part of who we are as people of faith. Policies of fear and inflammatory rhetoric will only offer extremists fertile soil and pave the way toward a divisive, fearful future. As Pope Francis reminded us in his speech to Congress: “The yardstick by which we measure others is the yardstick by which time will measure us.”  

When we recognize the impotence of evil, we stand with Mary. When we make the choice to not give in to fear and to believe that what God has promised God will fulfill then we stand with Mary.

Come, Lord Jesus!

Advent: Return to the Beginning

05 Saturday Dec 2015

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advent wreath 3The week before the first Sunday of Advent I ventured into a local craft store in search of Advent candles.  After inquiry, a sales associate led me to the candles.  We passed one, then two, then three, four and five full aisles of Christmas decorations.  Arriving at the last row she pointed to a small stack of Advent candles on the bottom corner of a shelf.  Quite sad in comparison.  I cannot help but reflect on the symbolism.  As I write this reflection there has been yet another mass shooting in our country.  I do not make this jump from searching for Advent candles to a mass shooting in order to be flippant or sensational, I share it because I believe Advent offers needed lessons for our world today but honestly I fear these lessons may fall on deaf ears because they will require work, sacrifice and even risk on our part.

One of the virtues that Romano Guardini explores in his book Learning the Virtues that Lead You to God is the virtue of patience.  In the course of his reflection he offers these words:

Therefore patience, which always begins again, is a prerequisite if something is to be done.  In “The Imitation of Christ” we find the phrase “Semper incipe!” … At first sight, it is a paradox, for a beginning is a beginning and then we go on.  But that is true only in mechanical matters.  In actual life, beginning is an element that must operate constantly.  Nothing goes on if it does not at the same time begin. 

So he who wishes to advance must always begin again.  He must constantly immerse himself in the inner source of life and arise therefrom in new freedom, in initiative – the power of beginning – in order to make real what he has purposed: prudence, temperance, self-control, or whatever it may be that is to be accomplished.  

Patience with oneself – not carelessness or weakness, of course, but the sense of reality – is the foundation of all progress.  

The wisdom that Guardini offers here is a wisdom found at the heart of the season of Advent.  In Advent, we as Church, “begin again”.  We return to the beginning and we join with the saints of this season (Ss. John the Baptist, Elizabeth, Zechariah, Joseph and Mary) in awaiting the coming of the Messiah.

Advent calls us to honestly acknowledge the darkness and brokenness of our world and our lives not in order to shut down in despair but in order to open a window of hope.  If approached correctly and not rushed through, the season of Advent offers profound lessons to help us learn patience with ourselves and our world.  We recognize that there is something fundamentally broken within ourselves and the human condition that is just not possible for us to heal and fix.  It is too mysterious, too deep and too painful.  Further, we recognize how all of creation stands in need.  We come to learn that the ultimate answer cannot be found in us.  Yet, we also recognize that there is a deep yearning for wholeness within and, if we sit with it long enough, we recognize that this yearning itself has been planted within us by God.  It is part of our makeup, part of the essence of who we are and Scripture tells us that God is a God who does not disappoint.  God will answer our need.  God will answer the deepest need of our world with the coming of Christ in glory in the fullness of all history.  God has answered the hope of the ages with the incarnation of the Son!

“Semper incipe!” is a spiritual truth and we learn it from the Advent saints themselves.  Zechariah and Elizabeth began again when they were reminded that nothing is impossible for God.  Joseph began again when he was reminded that God will act as God so chooses and our job is to trust.  John the Baptist began again when he went into the wilderness to meet the Lord just as the people of Israel had encountered God during their forty years of wandering in the desert.  Mary began again in her profound “Yes” to God – the heart of Israel’s history and hope.

We live in a dark time.  There is much violence, isolation, pain and fear in our world today.  In such times patience is called for all the more.  We must overcome the temptation to rush to judgment, to rush to condemnation, to rush to separation, to rush to retribution.  Patience rightly lived is a needed antidote rather than a weakness.  If we are to move beyond the darkness of these times we can neither naively try to wish it away nor pretend the darkness does not exist, rather we need to be honest about the state of things and then get to work!  And as Guardini rightly notes, patience is the foundation of all true progress.  The saints of Advent were anything but naïve.  They knew the brokenness of their world and their own need and they clearly show the willingness to begin again.

This particular Advent, this season when we as Church return to the beginning, should be different.  This celebration of Advent which marks the beginning of the Jubilee Year of Mercy ought to initiate a transformation in us as Church that will affect our world.  In this will Advent truly be authentic.  No longer can Advent just be my or our personal preparation for the celebration of Christmas, rather Advent must light hope and mercy for our world.  We need to live the anticipation of this Advent not for ourselves but truly for all of our sisters and brothers – especially those who are suffering and forgotten.

Our world is in a dark place.  There is work that needs to be done.  Before we rush to the work, we should return to the beginning and immerse ourselves in that inner source of life which is our faith in the work of God himself.  Patience is the foundation of all true progress.

I would suggest that in a particular way this Advent we stand with the saints of this season and we learn from them how to return to the beginning.  This lesson is too important; too critical to the times we now live in, to bypass.

When all is said and done we may very well recognize that human history was carried neither by the proud nor the arrogant nor the centers of our world’s powers but rather by the patient – the ones who learned how to continually return to the beginning in order to arise in new freedom and new awareness.

The coming of the Son of Man. We are not Afraid. (Thoughts on the Sunday readings: 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time – B.)

15 Sunday Nov 2015

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new_jerusalem1One of my professors in seminary would often remark that the events of the last days as portrayed in the Scriptures should be read like the labor pangs of birth rather than cataclysmic destruction.  In fact, the birth analogy is more in keeping with the fuller sense of Scripture than any “cataclysmic, world destroyed in a ravaging ball of fire, Hollywood movie” version.

The texts of Scripture do not confirm a sort of “theory of catastrophes,” according to which there must first be a complete destruction of the world after which God can finally turn everything to good.  No, God does not arrive at the end, when all is lost.  He does not disown his own creation.  In the book of Revelation we read, “You created all things, and by your will they existed and were created” (4:11). We must also remember that at the very beginning of Scripture, after God has made everything, God looks upon creation and proclaims it to be good. God does not disown his creation.

The “upheaval” expressed throughout the New Testament is that when the Son of Man comes, he comes not in the weariness of our habits nor does he insert himself passively into the natural course of things.  When Christ comes, he brings a radical change to the lives of men and women and it is always a change that brings the fullness of life.

Notice that in this Sunday’s gospel passage (Mk. 13:24-32) after our Lord speaks of the coming of the Son of Man with “great power” he goes on to state: Learn a lesson from the fig tree.  When its branch becomes tender and sprouts leaves, you know that summer is near.  In the same way, when you see these things happening, know that he is near, at the gates. 

Our Lord does enter into our lives and the life of our world with “great power” but the upheaval he brings is an invitation to turn away from sin and the works of sin and to turn toward the fullness of life.

As Christians we are to live in this world not bound by the deadening works of sin and pride but rather in the upheaval and pangs of birth of the establishment of the Kingdom of God.  Because every day and in every situation Christ is near, at the gates.  The Book of Revelation gives us an image of this hope toward which we yearn and work.  Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth … And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband (Rev. 21:1-2).

The great “Day of the Lord” is not yet to happen. It has already happened!  God has entered into creation and history in the person of Christ, eternity has entered into time, and now this upheaval comes to every generation and even each day!  We are caught up in the great work of God where all peoples and nations will be gathered together into the new Jerusalem!

The “end of the world” must come every day.  Every day, we must put an end to both the small or big pieces of the world’s evil and malevolence … Scripture invites us to keep the future, toward which we are led, in front of our eyes: the end of the world is not a catastrophe, but will in fact establish the holy city that comes down from heaven.  It is a city that is a concrete reality, not an abstract one, gathering all the people around their Lord.  This is the goal (and, in a sense also, the end) of history.  But his holy city must begin in our daily life now so that it may grow and transform the lives of men and women into God’s likeness. 

Our thoughts and prayers this weekend turn to Paris and the victims of Friday’s terrorist attacks. One of the stated goals of ISIS is not just to bring about a caliphate (a Muslim state) but the apocalypse as they view it. They wish to bring about the apocalypse through acts of violence. Theirs is a sick and twisted ideology. Already the people of Paris are responding to these violent attacks by standing up and saying “We are not afraid.” This is a classic Christian response. We are not afraid because the coming day of the Lord is not a day of destruction but a day of life. The coming Day of the Lord will be when all injustice will be righted, every tear will be wiped away and life will reign! We are not afraid because God has entered into human history and has overcome violence and emptied the tomb of its power!

We are not afraid because Christ is Lord!

(Quotes taken from The Word of God Every Day by Vincenzo Paglia.)

Thoughts on the Sunday readings: the concreteness of the Ascension

17 Sunday May 2015

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Ascension3Today’s gospel (Mk. 16:15-20) has the risen Lord sending his disciples into the whole world in order to proclaim the gospel to every creature.  This very same mission continues today.  Christianity cannot stay within, locked behind closed doors!  But, before we run out to the world, we need to know for whom we are running and whose message it is exactly that we are proclaiming.  I once heard a seasoned Catholic blogger give some sound advice to some young seminarians eager to evangelize the internet for Christ.  She cautioned that before you start saying things about faith and Christ make sure you actually have something to say.  The only way to speak authentically about Christ is to encounter Christ.  Another way of getting at this is by asking the question actually whose disciples are we?

We are not disciples for ourselves even if we might claim the name Christian.  Taking only the teachings of our Lord that we like and find agreeable and then trying to manage and live our lives on our own – agreeing with Jesus but not really feeling a need for him, too closely, in our lives.

We are disciples because God has first loved us – he has called us and saved us in love.  He sends us into the world in order to proclaim the good news in love and peace.  In many ways the gospel is a weak strength – the gospel needs us to proclaim it, if not love begins to disappear and peace begins to lose to violence and hatred.  But for any of this to happen we must live continually in relationship with Christ, remembering that we are his disciples and not disciples for ourselves.

Despite the seemingly, other-worldly nature of today’s feast (What does it mean that Jesus ascends to the Father?), the Feast of the Ascension is a very concrete reality.   It is so because of the simple fact that the hope we celebrate today is not founded in some abstract or utopian principle or ideal of a better tomorrow but in the very resurrected body of Christ.  Christ is indeed risen which means he is risen body and soul, flesh and blood.  Anything less would not be fully and authentically human.  Christ ascends to the Father not just in spirit or thought but in the very concrete reality of his full humanity.  Throughout this Easter season we have heard Christ, time and time again, assuring his disciples that he is indeed present in “flesh and bone”.  This means fully present not just up to the moment of the ascension but in the ascension itself and now at the Father’s right hand.  From the day of the ascension heaven “began to populate itself with the earth, or, in the language of Revelation, a new heaven and earth began.”

In the ascension we truly realize that we are not orphans.  We are not left to the cold and cruel winds of chance, fate and odds or a history without direction.  Direction has been set.  The resurrected Christ now sits at the Father’s right hand!  This, and nothing less, is our goal.  It is what we are meant for and what we are called to by God’s grace.

It is truly concrete and it is achieved and experienced concretely.

In the gospel Jesus tells us that he is “the way” and the way, it turns out, is walked concretely.  The ascension is experienced again not in some abstract manner but in how we concretely treat and love the smallest and poorest brothers and sisters in our midst. When we love concretely we experience the ascension and we are brought toward the fullness of the future that God has prepared for us in Christ.

Let me share an example.  When I was chaplain at the Catholic Center at ETSU our Sant’Egidio group decided to take sandwich bags once a week to the John Sevier Center.  (The John Sevier Center is a low-income housing unit in downtown Johnson City.)  We did not go there as experts in anything.  We knew we could not solve the residents’ problems and struggles.  We just went and we were faithful in going and in this simple act of being present a human space was created both for the residents and for us.  We became friends.  By this we were brought a little bit further toward the fullness that awaits us all.  In this human space miracles happen and signs are given – demons of isolation, fear, hatred and resignation are cast out and life is gained.  I have seen it for myself time and time again.  Now, our Sant’Egidio group here at St. Dominic’s has begun visiting Holston Manor nursing home and it is beginning to happen again – a human space is being created.

Christ bestows his love upon us.  We are disciples for him and we are meant to communicate his love.  Love that is not communicated soon withers and dies.

Love is lived not abstractly but concretely and it is in the concrete act that we are brought toward the fullness that awaits us all.

Easter Sunday – Mary, Peter and John ran!

05 Sunday Apr 2015

Posted by in discipleship, Easter, hope, joy, life in Christ, resurrection

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peter_and_john_running-dan-burr-mindreChildren like to run.  Have you ever noticed this?  Watch children at play – pure energy!  In children we see the body just needing to move – not weighed down, not encumbered by age or past hurts – pure life and pure joy!  Children run and in this running we find a witness to life and to joy!

The gospel (Jn. 20:1-9) today tells us that Mary of Magdala ran to the disciples once she saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb’s entrance.  The gospel then goes on to tell us that Peter and John ran to the tomb to investigate.  When you ask children at play, “Why do you run?” they probably will not be able to give an answer.  Maybe at best they will say, “Because we can!” or “We just want to!”  The running is just a witness to live within them.  Why did Mary run?  Why did Peter and John run?  Was it a conscious decision on their part or rather, like children, did the energy of a new life impel them?  I think it was the latter.  An unimaginable energy, an unheard of joy – the tomb was empty!  Death has been conquered!  They ran simply because they had to!

For too long history has wept before the tombs of our world.  How countless the number of men and women who have died by violence, hatred, war, famine, isolation and abandonment!  Even today it continues.  Before the tombs of our world our hearts are left heavy and we feel abandoned.  Before the tomb there is no joy, no desire to run because there seems to be no future – no hope.

Hope impelled Mary and the two disciples to run.  They ran because hope was born again in their hearts!  Not a hope born of this world that ends with the tomb but a hope born of heaven that empties the tomb from within!  In the resurrection of Christ the tomb is emptied from within!  Christ has entered even death itself – abandonment from God – and Christ has overcome death from within.  Death, sin and evil are swallowed up!  The tomb is emptied from within.  Death is robbed of its power!

The tombs of our world remain.  Sadly, too many people still weep before the tombs of violence, war, abandonment and isolation but the finality of the tomb has been broken.  Its power vanquished!

Where is the glory of the resurrection?  It is in the gospel that says there is a different way to live other than the logic of the tomb – a way that says “no” to violence, “no” to abandonment and to war, hatred and isolation.  The glory of the resurrection is found in the heart of the Christian who says “yes” to this different way of living – “yes” to friendship, “yes” to forgiveness and reconciliation, “yes” to peace and “yes” to the belief that death is not the final word!

And when we live this different way?  We run, we run so fast!  We run with Mary and Peter and John!  We run a new way with a new hope born of heaven!  Life itself impels us to run!

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!