First Be Reconciled, Then Offer Your Gift

This Gospel is so clear it might make us squirm. We understand what Jesus is saying, but how does it strike our hearts? What about that one person I just can’t get along with? Is Jesus really speaking about that one? Yes, he is! To live this Gospel, I need to be at peace with everyone. If I have hurt another person, I need to apologize and make amends. Still, human life is messy, and some relationships will never be restored. I can’t control the thoughts and actions of other people.  Sometimes people take offense when none was intended or given, and refuse any relationship. In those painful cases, the reconciliation Jesus asks for has to take place in my own heart, that I bear no grudge and pray for that person.

Polycarp, the saint we celebrate today, offers us a wonderful example of reconciliation. The bishop of Smyrna in Asia Minor, he was martyred at the age of 86, around the year 155. We’re fortunate to have the Acts of his martyrdom, which gives us a wonderful glimpse of his personality. The government was persecuting Christians, and Polycarp thought it prudent to go into hiding. But one of his household servants betrayed him to the police, and led them to the bishop. When they all arrived at the house, instead of getting angry at the betrayal, Polycarp welcomed the servant and the police. “He ordered that something to eat and drink should be set before them, as much indeed as they wanted, while he asked them to allow him an hour to pray without disturbance.” He prayed for two hours, “remembering everyone who had at any time come in contact with him, both small and great, illustrious and obscure, as well as the whole Catholic Church throughout the world.” Then they led Polycarp off to be killed.

He was at peace and even showed his sense of humor. In the arena, Polycarp was told to swear an oath, saying, “Away with the atheists!”—meaning the Christians, who were called atheists because they refused to worship the Roman gods. Instead, looking up at the whole crowd of the lawless heathens then in the stadium, and waving his hand toward them, he said, “Away with the atheists!” After being urged again to denounce Christ, Polycarp declared, “I have served him for eighty-six years and he never did me any injury. How can I blaspheme my King and my Savior?” Then he went out to meet his death by fire and sword.

We can admire the way Polycarp graciously welcomed his enemies and served them, even when they came to drag him to his death. Polycarp offered his own life in union with the Eucharistic sacrifice, which he had often celebrated as a priest and bishop. At Mass, we too can offer the gift of our lives day by day, with a heart open to all. May this Lent help us to become more like Jesus, just as Polycarp gave himself for the Lord.

Sr. Marianne Lorraine Trouve’ has been a member of the Daughters of Saint Paul since 1976. She has an MA in theology from the University of Dayton and has served on the editorial staff of Pauline Books and Media for over 20 years. She is the author of several books, including Saint Thomas Aquinas, and Mary: Help in Hard Times. When she’s not writing, editing, or working on logic puzzles, she can be found blogging at www.thomasfortoday.blogspot.com.

Keys to My Own Little Kingdom

In today’s Gospel reading, Simon Peter doesn’t hesitate to answer Jesus’ question, “But who do you say that I am?” Jesus also states that His heavenly Father revealed this information to Simon Peter. But how?

The Gospel doesn’t tell us how the Father revealed Jesus’ identity to Simon Peter. We are left to speculate. It probably wasn’t a dramatic reveal, otherwise, that story would have been told. It apparently was a private revelation between God and Simon Peter alone. A revelation that Jesus was waiting for before He turned the keys to the kingdom over to Simon Peter.

That simple exchange between Jesus and Simon Peter began the foundation of the Catholic Church, but how does it relate to you and me?

I’ve been asked numerous times by people of other denominations who Jesus is. It’s sort of a trick question. If I don’t answer in a certain way… well you’ve probably experienced the same conversation.

Reading today’s Gospel got me thinking differently, though. I acknowledge Who Jesus is, but I doubt I’m getting any keys to the kingdom. Or am I? My earthly kingdom consists of my family and our house.  It’s my responsibility to see that the bills are paid, laundry is done, house is clean, groceries are purchased, etc. It’s our corner of the world. It’s the stepping point from which we begin our day. If our surroundings are chaotic, we cannot face the days’ challenges.

As I reflect on today’s Gospel, I imagine acknowledging Jesus as Simon Peter did. I also see Jesus, smiling at me as He hands me a ring of tiny keys that give me the responsibility of my own little kingdom. I smile at Him and take the keys. I excuse myself because I had better go vacuum!

CatholicMom.com was started by Lisa Hendey in 2000 to create a community for Catholic parents to share insights on living their faith with their family. The website has grown substantially over the years to become a rich resource for all Catholics seeking spiritual enrichment for their families.  It continues to provide fresh perspectives from the enriching columnists and contributors with daily articles and reflections as well as book and tech recommendations.

Jesus is More Than Just a Quick Fix

This is a wicked generation? I believe this verse could apply quite well to where we are today.  We are searching for direction in every place but from God.  We want a sign. And where do we go for a sign? Social media, major news networks, and reality television. We don’t find many signs… just a lot of drama and chaos. We post a plea for clarity on Facebook, and what do we gain from the post but much advice, and rarely a drop of wisdom?  

In today’s Gospel reading, we see crowds looking for a sign. Jesus points to the past and notes that Jonah was already a sign in the past (Old Testament). Jesus is fulfilling the prophecies set forth in the Old Testament and “something greater than Jonah is here.” If Jesus was anyone else, we would think He is quite crazy but He is Jesus! When you look at the Gospels, you will notice that there are many times that Jesus is speaking to the crowds and telling parables. As Jesus is speaking, it seems that He is often focused on the Kingdom and the crowd just cares about the here and now. If they could get healed and go on their way, they would be content.

How often do we want just a little bit of Jesus and then move onto the next thing? The dilemma that we encounter from quick answers is that they involve very little spiritual transformation. Quick answers give us a temporary peace but do not create substantial change in our hearts and souls. Think of a CrockPot meal on a cool autumn evening. There is nothing better than when your meal has been slowly cooking for hours. We pray for a sign or some guidance, but a microwave version of Jesus is much easier to handle. A faith that is resting in Jesus will endure the trials of today and the questions of tomorrow.

CatholicMom.com was started by Lisa Hendey in 2000 to create a community for Catholic parents to share insights on living their faith with their family. The website has grown substantially over the years to become a rich resource for all Catholics seeking spiritual enrichment for their families.  It continues to provide fresh perspectives from the enriching columnists and contributors with daily articles and reflections as well as book and tech recommendations.

A Voice in the Silence

I have become more and more aware of the presence of God in my life over the past couple years. This is one of the most valuable lessons I learned during my time in seminary; to be aware of the Lord’s small and quiet movements that would go unnoticed if I were not in tune with how the Lord speaks.

The other night I had such a moment with God. I was leaving my fiance’s apartment to head home and I was just feeling so thankful for all the Lord has done in my life and what he continues to do. I walked outside and fresh snow was falling, the kind that crackles  under your feet. I looked up and felt the presence of God in such a real and tangible way. It was as if the world stopped and I was able to enter into the silence of my heart with the Lover of my Soul.

Moments like these do not happen all the time, but they do happen. Often, I am just too busy or distracted to hear the silence. In today’s Gospel, Jesus implores us not to babble like the pagans who think they will be heard because of their many words. All throughout Lent we are told to pray in silence and to fast without boasting. These phrases have largely come to mean that we should be humble in our prayer, but I think there is a deep richness that we miss if we reduce
them solely to humility.

Most of the mystics we encounter in our great Catholic tradition speak of the importance of silence, and not just passive quiet, but active attention to the dynamic spiritual forces all around us drawing us deeper into the divine.

St. Mother Teresa said, “We need to find God, and He cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature – trees, flowers, grass- grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence… We need silence to be able to touch souls.”

As we journey through this time of spiritual renewal, take a second to stop reading this blog and start paying attention to the silent ways God is working in your life. Whenever you encounter a moment of quiet and calm in your day today, simply pray Come Holy Spirit. As you do, sit with whatever the Lord has to tell you in this moment. Sit with the assurance that you are loved as a Son or Daughter of God. You might just be shocked by the simple yet profound voice that you
hear in the silence.

As a Solutions Evangelist for Diocesan, Tommy is committed to showing parish and diocesan staffs how to use our communication tools to their best advantage.  He has worked for years in various, youth ministry, adult ministry, and diocesan roles. As an expert on Catholic communication, Tommy uses his parish and diocesan experiences to help you make your ministry effective. To bring Tommy to your parish or for general inquiry, contact him at tshultz@diocesan.com or find him online at www.rodzinkaministry.com.

 

 

 

The Ten Commandments are Only the Beginning

Well, Y’all, it’s another Monday. Another beginning to another week, although my dad would point out that “every day is the beginning of the rest of your life.” This is one of those quotes that you hear so often that you begin to dismiss them without fully acknowledging what their intention and actual meaning is. You hear it and immediately cut them off, saying “Yeah, yeah, yeah, every day is the beginning of the rest of my life. I know.”

If I’m being honest with Y’all, I reacted the same way to the Ten Commandments in today’s readings. That is, the reading began, I recognized the Ten Commandments, and began to tune them out, thinking to myself, Yeah, yeah, yeah, don’t murder or steal. Go to Church. I know.

I hate to say it, but I have heard the Commandments so much that they have lost their deeper meaning to me. I tell myself that because I follow the literal words of the Commandments, I must be a good Catholic.  If I step out of my denial, I know that the Commandments go deeper than the single meaning. I know there is so much more to getting into the Kingdom of Heaven than just ten rules to follow. For example, in the Gospel reading today, Jesus did not say that the Son of Man separated the thieves from the honest. Instead, he separates those who acted out of love for strangers from those who sinned and simply avoided sin.

I’m not going to sugarcoat it. Today’s readings are heavy. They remind us that we are held accountable for our every action, as well as our every inaction (the times we do nothing). They remind us that what we do here on earth will follow us on our path to the ultimate goal of God’s Kingdom.

See, you have to go a step further than just not being a murderer. Avoiding sin and following the Ten Commandments word for word is not the same as living God’s message.  Just as Jesus did, we must go out and spread His Holy Word by our actions.

Honor your parents. Be a faithful partner. But what about showing that same kind of love and respect to the rest of humankind? Every day we are given the opportunity to show love and respect by feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, welcoming strangers, clothing the naked, caring for the sick, and visiting those in prison, yet we are choosing not to do so.

So yes, it’s easier to glaze over the readings (or even this blog) than to self-reflect, but I have a challenge for you: Ignore your justifications, not the Ten Commandments. Ignore your pride, not the people around you. Be more than just a “good enough” Catholic and choose to actively love strangers.

For an in-depth breakdown of what the Ten Commandments really cover, click here.

Since you’ve already begun to do an Examination of Conscience, take the time to begin the first full week of Lent by going to Confession. If it’s been a while, here is a guide on how to go to Confession.

Veronica Alvarado is a born and bred Texan currently living in Michigan. Since graduating from Texas A&M University, Veronica has been published in the Catholic Diocese of Austin’s official newspaper, Catholic Spirit, as well as other local publications. She now works as the Content Specialist in Diocesan’s Web Department.

Sacrifice in The Ordinary Moments

I love my job!

I probably have one of the coolest jobs in the world… and most people would agree.

I am a direct support professional. I serve individuals who have developmental and intellectual disabilities (i.e. autism, muscular dystrophy) by helping them manage life out in public.

This opportunity is many things: it is fun, it is fulfilling, it is at times confusing and challenging. But especially for the Lent season, it is an opportunity to put others before me.

The program that I work under is called “Self-Direction”. As the title implies, the individual I am serving decides how we will spend the session. If he wants to have tacos every week for an entire year, then we are having tacos every week.

I often say that my life is other people’s lives. I don’t have heroic opportunities to be selfless but instead very small, frequent occasions for sacrifice.

And that isn’t bad! I mean, don’t get me wrong. I totally fantasize about a legendary, divinizing sacrifice that would cement my person into the framework of modern history, like the death of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. or St. Maximilian Kolbe…

But God gives me opportunities for small deaths, like eating tacos for the 20th week in a row (not an exaggeration).

The Queen of ordinary sacrifices, St. Teresa of Calcutta, once said

“JOY: Jesus, others, yourself.”

Ain’t it the truth?

Living a life of joy requires a kind of death, a death to our own selfishness.

Find opportunities to sacrifice your preference to care for others.

Be like Christ!

Be awesome!

 

 

 

 

During the week, Matt is a mentor for individuals who have developmental and intellectual disabilities. On the weekends, he is a drummer for Full Armor Band.
You can find more content by Matt and his band at www.fullarmorband.com

The Lord Looks on the Heart

What did Jesus see in Levi that made Him call to the tax collector? There were other publicans there, sitting alongside Levi. Why did the Christ only invite Levi to follow Him?

Jesus saw something special in Levi. “For the LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart” (1 Sam 16:7). Perhaps Jesus saw a generous heart full of longing.

Despite his wealth, Levi knew he was missing something. He trusted that Jesus knew what he was missing and trusted that Jesus could fulfill that need. So he got up, left the emptiness behind, and followed Jesus.

Levi was so excited about his new-found treasure that he wanted to share it with his friends. Who were his friends? Outcasts: other tax collectors, of course, and prostitutes.

Jesus did not shrink away from Levi’s friends. He cared not that the popular and (self-)righteous among the Israelites considered these people deplorable, undesirable, unclean. Jesus knew that they, like all people, needed Him. So He dined with them.

CatholicMom.com was started by Lisa Hendey in 2000 to create a community for Catholic parents to share insights on living their faith with their family. The website has grown substantially over the years to become a rich resource for all Catholics seeking spiritual enrichment for their families.  It continues to provide fresh perspectives from the enriching columnists and contributors with daily articles and reflections as well as book and tech recommendations.

 

Fasting and Sacrifice

The first Friday of Lent. I immediately think of fasting and recall the numerous tuna casseroles, fish sticks, and creamed peas on toast served for the Friday dinners of my youth. I really hate canned tuna fish and canned peas. I secretly hoped my Mom would send the meal that the rest of my family seemed to enjoy, to the kids that didn’t have enough food, even though I knew it would be spoiled before it could get to them and I would go to bed hungry. I couldn’t wrap my elementary school brain around the concept of why we fast and what that had to do with Church. Church happens on Sunday, silly.  Ah, the focus and ideals of youth.

The readings today both speak of fasting. Does my fasting end in quarreling and fighting? Am I snippy with others because I’ve skipped a meal as part of my fast and my blood sugar starts crashing? I don’t believe this type of physical fasting is the kind of sacrifice God truly wants from me. So then what is it that God is calling me to fast from this Lent?

I want my fast to be pleasing to the Lord. Pope Francis has some thought-provoking words in his annual message for Lent 2018 about keeping our hearts from becoming cold. He uses Dante’s description of hell to compare our cold heart to, “the devil seated on a throne of ice in frozen and loveless desolation.” Yikes! Definitely not who I want to become! There are also a few things from our Holy Father’s words that have me taking a look at how I can fast on a deeper level.

  • Fast from hurting words and say kind words.
  • Fast from sadness and be filled with gratitude.
  • Fast from anger and be filled with patience.
  • Fast from pessimism and be filled with hope.
  • Fast from worries and have trust in God.
  • Fast from complaints and contemplate simplicity.
  • Fast from pressures and be prayerful.
  • Fast from bitterness and fill your hearts with joy.
  • Fast from selfishness and be compassionate to others.
  • Fast from grudges and be reconciled.
  • Fast from words and be silent so you can listen.

These are very realistic ways for me to fast, however challenging they may be when you take a second or third read through them. Lent, during the two-year process of separation and divorce from my former husband, was extremely painful. I tried to fast from making negative comments about our situation. I tried to fast from hurtful words and bitterness. It was a struggle. I joined the choir at my parish to lift my brokenness to God in song during Lent. I cantor to make sure I go to Mass on Sunday and be nourished with the Body and Blood of Our Lord Jesus Christ. I do these things because I cannot survive on my own. I need the love outpoured in the Eucharistic sacrifice. Jesus so loved me, a sinner, that He gave His life for my redemption; for your redemption.  

Fr Thaddaeus Lancton wrote a beautiful reflection on “The Secret of Lent”.  He speaks about looking at Lent in the example of St. Faustina; how we can please the Lord by obedience.

He says:

“When St. Faustina asked her superior…. for permission to fast, it was denied due to her poor health. Instead, she was told to meditate upon the Passion — particularly how Jesus accepted vinegar and gall — while eating. As St. Faustina wrote: ‘The benefit is that I am meditating constantly on His sorrowful Passion and so, while I am eating, I am not preoccupied with what I am eating, but am reflecting on my Lord’s death’ (Diary, 618).

The goal of Lent is not simply self-improvement or adding to resolutions. Rather, as St. Faustina learned, it is a time to be conformed to Christ in His Passion, so that we might share, too, in His glory (see Diary, 446). Let us desire, then, to be obedient to Jesus, for our salvation came about through His obedience, and we receive the grace of our salvation through our obedience to Him.”

Bishop David L. Ricken offers another reflection in 10 Things to Remember for Lent. My Lenten offering will include praying for at least one person per day, whom I do not know. I will try to fast from words so I can be silent to listen to the Lord in those around me and through the mundane situations and routines that make up my life. I will try to attend daily Mass 3 time per week. What is God calling you to do?

Beth Price is a Secular Franciscan (OFS) and spiritual director who has worked in several  parish ministry roles during the last 20 years. She is a proud mother of 3 adult children. Beth currently works at Diocesan.

Mercy, Evangelization, and Pope Francis

During the Jubilee Year of Mercy in 2016, I read a wonderful book by Pope Francis titled, “The Name of God is Mercy.” Actually, I read it three times over the course of a year. The book is the transcript of a long interview the Holy Father did with the Vatican reporter Andrea Tornielli about the Year of Mercy.

The book was comforting and refreshing, but also very challenging, reading it was a kind of examination of conscience. While the entire book really is fantastic, I wanted to share one powerful passage that I think speaks to our journey through this season of self-reflection, penance, and mercy. I would encourage you to read Pope Francis’ words slowly and prayerfully, read them as if he was writing to you personally.

This passage comes from the chapter titled, “Shepherds, not Scholars of the Law.” Pope Francis says:

“We need to enter the darkness, the night in which so many of our brothers live. We need to be able to make contact with them and let them feel our closeness, without letting ourselves be wrapped up in that darkness and influenced by it. Caring for outcasts and sinners does not mean letting the wolves attack the flock. It means trying to reach everyone by sharing the experience of mercy, which we ourselves have experienced, without ever caving in to the temptation of feeling that we are just or perfect.”

While he doesn’t use the word “evangelization,” I think that is precisely what the pope is talking about here. I’ve heard it said that evangelization is one beggar showing another beggar where the bread is. Likewise, I think Pope Francis would say that evangelization is one sinner showing another sinner how to encounter God’s mercy. What’s cool about thinking of evangelization this way is that it’s not complicated and it certainly doesn’t require a theology degree. How have you experienced God’s mercy in your life? How has God saved you from your own sin and suffering? Have you ever shared this story with anyone? The pope continues:

“The more conscience we are of our wretchedness and our sins, the more we experience the love and infinite mercy of God among us, and the more capable we are of looking upon the many “wounded” we meet along the way with acceptance and mercy.”

Shortly after being elected pope, Francis was asked: “Who is Jorge Bergoglio?” And his response was, “I am a sinner. This is the most accurate definition. It is not a figure of speech, a literary genre. I am a sinner.” The Holy Father says that it is a true grace for someone to feel like a sinner and that if we don’t feel that way then we should ask God for the grace to feel like a sinner. It is only as a sinner that we can experience God’s infinite mercy, it is only in our weakness and humility that we can truly know God’s greatness. If I am not a sinner then I have no need for a Savior. Recognizing oneself as a sinner is also one of the first steps of evangelization, the pope says:

So we must avoid the attitude of someone who judges and condemns from the lofty heights of his own certainty, looking for the splinter in his brother’s eye while remaining unaware of the beam is his own. Let us always remember that God rejoices more when one sinner returns to the fold than when ninety-nine righteous people have no need of repentance. When a person begins to recognize the sickness in their soul, when the Holy spirit – the Grace of God – acts within them and moves their heart toward an initial recognition of their own sins, he needs to find an open door, not a closed one. He needs to find acceptance, not judgment, prejudice, or condemnation. He needs to be helped, not pushed away or cast out. Sometimes when Christians think like scholars of the law, their hearts extinguish that which the Holy Spirit lights up in the heart of a sinner who stands at the threshold, when he starts to feel nostalgia for God.

This passage reads like an examination of conscience. I find myself quick to judge someone else’s faults. Too often I act like a “scholar of law” who stands on a self-righteous pedestal judging others. It’s easy for us to treat people as “the other,” as enemies in a culture war, as bad Catholics, instead of Children of God. But judging other from “lofty heights” is the opposite of evangelization.

It’s easy for us to judge the young unmarried couple bringing their baby to be baptized, the couple who lived together before their wedding, the couple you know is using contraception, the person with outrageous and ignorant Facebook posts, the person with the Other Party’s bumper sticker in the church parking lot, etc, etc. I use all of these examples because these are ways I have judged others in the past. “These people” aren’t enemies in a culture war, these are the “lost sheep” who Jesus rejoices over more than the ninety-nine who never strayed.

Pope Francis is telling us that we can only stop judging others and start loving them when we have the humility to see ourselves as the greatest sinner in the room. The Holy Father said, “Every time I go through the gates into a prison to celebrate Mass or for a visit, I always think: Why them and not me? I should be here. I deserve to be here. Their fall could have been mine.”

The Year of Mercy is long over, but during this penitential season of Lent let us pray for the humility of Pope Francis and the courage to share God’s mercy with those who have fallen away from the Church. Let us pray for the tremendous grace to see ourselves as sinners so that we may fully encounter the God whose name is Mercy.

Durante el Año del Jubileo de la Misericordia en 2016 leí un estupendo libro del papa Francisco titulado: “El nombre de Dios es Misericordia”. De hecho, lo leí tres veces en el transcurso de un año. El libro es una transcripción de una extensa entrevista que el papa Francisco le concedió al reportero Andres Tornielli acerca del Año de la Misericordia.

El libro fue reconfortante y alentador, pero también muy desafiante, y su lectura fue una especie de examen de conciencia. Aunque todo el libro realmente es fantástico, me gustaría compartir un pasaje conmovedor que creo que habla de nuestro recorrido por esta temporada de autoreflexión, penitencia y misericordia. Te animo a leer las palabras del papa Francisco lentamente y en oración, a leerlas como si te estuviera escribiendo personalmente.

Este pasaje proviene de un capítulo llamado, “Pastores, no doctores de la Ley”. El papa Francisco dice:

“Tenemos que entrar en la oscuridad, en la noche que viven tantos hermanos nuestros. Debemos ser capaces de entrar en contacto con ellos, de hacer notar nuestra cercanía, sin dejarnos envolver ni condicionar por esa oscuridad. Preocuparse por los marginados y los pecadores no significa permitir que los lobos ataquen el rebaño. Significa tratar de llegarles a todos dando testimonio de la misericordia, de esa que hemos experimentado nosotros en primer lugar, sin caer jamás en la tentación de sentirnos como los justos o los perfectos”.

Aunque el papa no usa la palabra “evangelización”, creo que eso es precisamente de lo está hablando aquí. He oído decir que la evangelización es un mendigo mostrándole a otro mendigo dónde está el pan. Del mismo modo, creo que el papa Francisco diría que la evangelización es un pecador mostrándole a otro pecador cómo encontrar la misericordia de Dios. Lo bueno de pensar en la evangelización de esta manera es que no es complicado y, ciertamente, no se requiere tener un título en teología. ¿Cómo has experimentado la misericordia de Dios en tu vida? ¿Cómo te ha salvado Dios de tu propio pecado y sufrimiento? ¿Alguna vez has compartido esta historia con alguien? El papa continúa:

“Cuanto más viva está la conciencia de nuestra miseria y de nuestros pecados, más experimentamos el amor y la infinita misericordia de Dios sobre nosotros, y tanto más somos capaces de estar frente a los muchos «heridos» que encontramos en nuestro camino con una mirada de bienvenida y misericordia”.

Poco después de ser elegido Papa, le preguntaron a Francisco: “¿Quién es Jorge Bergoglio?”. Y su respuesta fue: “Yo soy un pecador. Esta es la definición más precisa. No es una figura retórica ni un género literario. Soy un pecador”. El Santo Padre dice que es una verdadera gracia para alguien sentirse un pecador, y que si no nos sentimos de esa manera entonces debemos pedirle a Dios la gracia de sentirnos pecadores. Solo como pecadores podemos experimentar la misericordia infinita de Dios, y solo en nuestra debilidad y humildad podemos conocer verdaderamente la grandeza de Dios. Si no somos pecadores, entonces no tenemos la necesidad de un Salvador. El reconocimiento de nosotros mismos como pecadores es también uno de los primeros pasos de la evangelización, dice el Papa.

Por eso debemos evitar la actitud de alguien que juzga y condena desde las alturas excelsas de su propia certeza buscando la astilla en el ojo de su prójimo, mientras no está consciente de la viga en el suyo. Recordemos siempre que Dios se regocija más cuando un pecador regresa al rebaño que cuando 99 personas justas no tienen necesidad de arrepentimiento. Cuando una persona comienza a reconocer la enfermedad en su alma, cuando el Espíritu Santo -la gracia de Dios- actúa dentro de ella y mueve su corazón hacia un reconocimiento inicial de sus propios pecados, necesita encontrar una puerta abierta, no una cerrada. Necesita encontrar la aceptación, no el juicio, el prejuicio, o la condenación. Necesita ser ayudada, no ser alejada o expulsada. A veces, cuando los cristianos piensan como doctores de la ley, sus corazones extinguen lo que el Espíritu Santo ilumina en el corazón de un pecador que está en el umbral, cuando comienza a sentir nostalgia por Dios.

Este pasaje se lee como un examen de conciencia. Soy rápido para juzgar las falencias del otro. Muy a menudo actúo como un “doctor de la ley” que se encuentra en un pedestal con derecho propio para juzgar a otros. Es fácil para nosotros tratar a la gente como “el otro”, como enemigos en una guerra cultural, como malos católicos, en lugar de tratarlos como hijos de Dios. Pero juzgar a otros desde “alturas excelsas” es lo opuesto a la evangelización.

Es fácil para nosotros juzgar a la joven pareja soltera que lleva a bautizar a su bebé; a la pareja que vivió junta antes de su boda; a la pareja que uno sabe que está usando métodos anticonceptivos; a la persona con mensajes escandalosos e ignorantes en Facebook; a la persona que tiene un sticker del Otro Partido en el parachoques en el estacionamiento de la iglesia, etc, etc. Utilizo todos estos ejemplos porque son formas en las que he juzgado a otros en el pasado. “Estas personas” no son enemigas en una guerra cultural, estas son las “ovejas perdidas” por las que Jesús se regocija más que por las 99 que nunca se apartaron.

El papa Francisco nos está diciendo que solo podemos dejar de juzgar a los demás y empezar a amarlos cuando tengamos la humildad de vernos a nosotros mismos como los más grandes pecadores. El Santo Padre dijo, “Cada vez que paso por las puertas a una prisión para celebrar una misa o para una visita, siempre pienso: ¿Por qué ellos y no yo? Debería estar aquí. Merezco estar aquí. Su caída podría haber sido la mía”.

El año de la misericordia  ya ha terminado, pero durante esta temporada penitencial de la  Cuaresma oremos por la humildad del papa Francisco y por el valor de compartir la misericordia de Dios con aquellos que se han alejado de la iglesia. Oremos por la tremenda gracia de vernos a nosotros mismos como pecadores para que podamos encontrar plenamente al Dios cuyo nombre es Misericordia.

 

Paul Fahey is a husband, father, and a parish director of religious education. He is a student of Theology, History, and Catholic Studies. If you like what he has to say, check out his blog, The Porch, or follow him on Facebook.

 

We Rise Again From Ashes

I have always wondered why Ash Wednesday services draw huge crowds. Churches are bursting at the seams! A friend once explained that every time the Church gives something away for free, people come. On Ash Wednesday we give ashes, on Palm Sunday we give palms, on Holy Thursday loaves of bread, on Easter…um…new parishioners? and Christmas…er… calendars??

I’m not quite convinced by this observation, but it is worth noting for sure. We are sticky, messy sinners who tend to look more for what we can get, rather than what we can give. And perhaps this realization is a good starting point this Lent.

Quoting the popular hymn: “We rise again from ashes, from the good we’ve failed to do…” So often we have failed to GIVE. Perhaps we are living in a day-to-day financial crunch or raising a small army of little ones that leave us weary to the bone. Perhaps we are sickly or elderly or have a calendar so full of obligations that we scream, “What do you want from me? I have nothing left to give!”

Cue the second verse: “We offer you our failures, we offer you attempts, the gifts not fully given and dreams not fully dreamt…” That is what God wants from us. Our failures, our half-given gifts, our unfulfilled dreams, our stumblings and most importantly our attempts.

How often we motivate others to try something new, whether it be a business venture, an article of clothing or a vegetable. “Just try it!” we encourage them. Perhaps God is asking us to just try something new as his ambassadors (ref 2 Cor 5:20), whether it be to pay it forward in the fast food line, bite our tongue when unconstructive criticism threatens to spew out, proclaim a small fast (ref Joel 2:15) and offer it up for a suffering soul, or speak a kind word to someone having a bad day.  Our attempts at kindness, holiness and truth. Because let’s face it, one Lenten season most likely won’t make a monumental difference in our spiritual lives or dramatically change our character from stubborn to virtuous, but God honors our attempts and “leaves behind a blessing” (ref Joel 2:14).

“Thanks be to the Father, who made us like himself. Thanks be to the Son, who saved us by his death. Thanks be to the Spirit, who creates the world anew, from an offering of ashes, an offering to you.”

May your Ash Wednesday and your Lent be full of attempts at giving to Lord and his people.

Siempre me he preguntado por qué los servicios del Miércoles de Ceniza atraen a grandes multitudes. ¡Las iglesias no dan abasto! Un amigo una vez explicó que cada vez que la iglesia regala algo, la gente viene. El Miércoles de Ceniza damos cenizas; el Domingo de Ramos regalamos palmas; el Jueves Santo regalamos pan; en la Pascua…quizá… ¿nuevos feligreses? y en Navidad … ¿calendarios?

No estoy muy convencido con esta observación, pero no vale la pena de seguro. Somos pecadores complicados y desordenados que tendemos a buscar más lo que podemos conseguir que lo que podemos dar. Y tal vez esta reflexión es un buen punto de partida para esta Cuaresma.

Como dice aquel popular himno: “Nos levantamos de las cenizas, del bien que no hemos podido hacer…”. Muy a menudo no hemos podido DAR. Tal vez estamos viviendo una crisis financiera cotidiana, o estamos criando un pequeño ejército de chiquillos que nos dejan agotados hasta los huesos. Quizá estamos enfermos, somos ancianos o tenemos un calendario tan lleno de obligaciones que gritamos: “¿Qué quieres de mí? No tengo nada más que dar”.

Esta es la entrada del segundo verso: “Te ofrecemos nuestros fracasos, te ofrecemos intentos, los regalos no dados del todo y los sueños incompletos…” Eso es lo que Dios quiere de nosotros. Nuestros fracasos, nuestras regalos a medio dar, nuestros sueños incumplidos, nuestros tropiezos y, sobre todo, nuestros intentos.

¿Con qué frecuencia  motivamos a otros a intentar algo nuevo, ya sea un negocio, un artículo de ropa o un vegetal? “Solo inténtalo!”, los alentamos. Tal vez Dios nos pide que probemos algo nuevo como sus embajadores (ref 2 Cor 5:20), ya sea pagar algo en la fila del restaurante de comida rápida, mordernos la lengua cuando la crítica no constructiva amenace con escaparse, proclamar un pequeño ayuno (ref Joel 2:15) y ofrecerlo por un alma afligida, o decirle una palabra amable a alguien que está teniendo un mal día. Son intentos de bondad, santidad y verdad. Porque seamos sinceros, es muy probable que una temporada de Cuaresma no haga una diferencia monumental en nuestras vidas espirituales o cambie dramáticamente nuestro carácter de terco a virtuoso, pero Dios honra nuestros intentos y “deja una bendición” (ref Joel 2:14).

“Gracias al Padre, que nos hizo a su semejanza”. Gracias all Hijo, que nos salvó por su muerte. Gracias al Espíritu, que crea el mundo de nuevo, de una ofrenda de cenizas, una ofrenda a ti”.

Que tu Miércoles de ceniza y tu Cuaresma estén llenos de intentos por darle al Señor y a su pueblo”.

 

 

Tami Urcia spent early young adulthood as a missionary in Mexico, while simultaneously studying Theology and Philosophy in Spanish. She has worked in Family Life Ministry at both the diocesan and parish levels. She currently works for Diocesan, is a freelance translator and blogger. She and her Peruvian husband are raising their children bilingual and love sharing reflections of life, love and everything in between. Find out more about her here: https://togetherandalways.wordpress.com