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Empathy and Love: Lessons from Christ to Peter

We all want to be welcoming to those outside of the faith, especially to people who visit our Parishes. But being welcoming is about much more than just giving out a Church registration form. We have to lead with empathy and love.

Watch the video below for some important lessons from John 21:15.

Change LentAs Diocesan Publications’ Solutions Evangelist, Shultz is committed to showing parish and diocesan staffs how to use our communication tools to their best advantage.  As an experienced speaker on all things Catholic, he has addressed topics such as the Sacraments, chastity, and boldly living the Catholic faith.  Shultz also served as director of youth and young adult ministries for the Diocese of Baker, OR. 

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Betrayal, Prayer, Grace: The Way To Easter

Today is the last day of Lent; tomorrow, we begin the Triduum – Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday. These are the holiest days of the year for Catholics, as we enter into Christ’s last days, the institution of the Eucharist, His example of washing the feet of the Apostles, His Passion and Death. They are somber days, quiet, contemplative. They are days of mystery and wonder, prayer and longing, peace and unrest.

Those themes (mystery, wonder, prayer, longing, peace, unrest) are outlined for us in the Mass readings for today.  In the first reading, Isaiah seems to be celebrating the gifts he’s been given in his prophetic office: a well-trained tongue, ears to hear God. But this passage is also about betrayal: those who oppose his words beat him,  spit on him, pull hairs out of this head. Yet, in spite of this, Isaiah remains faithful and grateful.

The psalmist cries out, “Lord, in your great love, answer me!” He is assured that God loves him and will answer him. He praises God in song, glorifies Him in thanksgiving. Yet again, we see betrayal: his own brothers have cast him out. They make his food inedible and give him vinegar to drink. Like Isaiah, the psalmist remains stalwart in his faith: “You who see God, may your hearts revive!:

Finally, and saddest of all, is the Gospel. Judas has put into motion his betrayal of Jesus. Jesus is well-aware of this, yet He includes his betrayer to dine with the group that night. He blesses the bread and wine – pronouncing them now His own Body and Blood – and Judas partakes. The most stunning sinner in history still has a place at the table.

It is hard to imagine the magnitude of pain Jesus felt by this betrayal. Here was a man in whom Jesus had seen great potential, a man fit for building the Kingdom of God. Jesus walked and talked with this man, ate with him, laughed with him, taught him. Judas was a brother in faith, until … he wasn’t.

Have you ever been betrayed? Most of us can relate, in at least a small way. Some of us have known the pain of infidelity in marriage, or learning that a beloved child has been stealing from us to feed a drug habit. Maybe a dear friend destroyed a confidence and hurt our reputation. Some of us remember being befriended by someone in school, but the only intention of that person was to get close enough so as to make us look foolish with their friends standing by, laughing at our expense.

Being human means you’ll get hurt. Our emotions are a gift from God, just like everything else about us, save sin. We say and do hurtful things. We get drawn into gossip. We harbor resentments and lash out. But for all our experience, we still do not know the depth of Christ’s pain.

It was not just the betrayal of Judas, however great a sin that was. It was the denial of Peter. It was the fact that all of His Apostles (except for John) fled when He needed them the most. It was the humiliation of being stripped, and His Father mocked. It was the weight of the Cross – a burden so large no man could lift it. The appalling weight of the Cross: made oppressive by our sins.

It is easy, sitting in our clean churches, our tidy homes, our coffee shop, to judge Judas. Yet, do we not betray Christ every day? We sin. We reject the life God has given us, in essence saying, “I know this is wrong, but I want it. I choose this action over the life God offers.” It is why, on Palm Sunday, it is so easy for us to cry out both “Hosanna!” and “Crucify Him!” Theologian Romano Guardini:

And yet, aren’t there many days in our lives on which we sell him, against our best knowledge, against our most sacred feeling, in spite of duty and love, for some vanity, or sensuality, or profit, or security, or some private hatred or vengeance? Are these more than thirty pieces of silver? We have little cause to speak of “the traitor” with indignation or as someone far away and long ago. Judas himself unmasks us. We understand his Christian significance in the measure that we understand him from our own negative possibilities, and we should beg God not to let the treachery into which we constantly fall become fixed within us.

We cannot save ourselves from betrayal. Our only hope is Christ. Over the next few days, our most fervent prayer should be one of contrition for our sins and for the whole world.

Today’s Mass begins with the priest praying on our behalf: “O God, who willed your Son to submit for our sake to the yoke of the Cross, so that you might drive from us the power of the enemy, grant us, your servants, to attain the grace of the resurrection.” May our Holy Week begin and end with this prayer, so that we may know the mystery, wonder, prayer, longing, peace, unrest of today’s readings, and thus enter fully into the joy of Easter morning!

 

EH headshotElise Hilton is an author, blogger and speaker. Her role at Diocesan Publications is Editor & Writer with the Marketing Team. She has worked in parish faith formation and Catholic education for over 30 years. A passionate student of theology, Elise enjoys sharing her thoughts on parish communication, the role of social media in the Church, Franciscan spirituality and Catholic parenting. To enquire about booking her as a speaker, please contact her at ehilton@diocesan.com.

 

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The Paschal Mystery And Divine Failure

 Failure.  Suffering.  Defeat.  Loss.

We work so hard to avoid these things.  We’re pushed to achieve and succeed in a world that seems divided between winners and losers.  We internalize these messages when we do not measure up to society’s expectations, or worse, our own expectations for ourselves.

Defeat and failure is where we find the prophet Jeremiah in today’s first reading.  Jeremiah is having an interior crisis.  We often think of the prophets as those who have the fixed vison of God before them always.  Sometimes they are granted this vision, such as Isaiah’s mystical revelation of God’s glorious throne. (Is 6)  But often, their vision is obscured and they are plunged down into the discouragement and despondency of failure.  Read Jeremiah’s entire prayer in chapter 20, where his suffering has reached the point that he rues the day of his birth and wishes that he had been aborted in his mother’s womb.  His is deep spiritual anguish.

Failure. Over and Over.

We see this pattern often in scripture.  John the Baptist is given vision, “Behold the Lamb of God . . . I saw the Spirit come down.” (Jn 1:29-34)  Later, jailed facing death, he is denied this vision and sends his disciples to Jesus to ask if he is indeed the One or should they look for another. (Mt 11:2-6)  At Caesarea Philippi, Peter proclaims Jesus, “The Christ, the Son of the living God.”   He immediately followed this divinely-given insight by tempting Jesus to turn away from the road of suffering and death. (Mt 16:13-23)  Many of the same people who chanted “Hosanna to the Son of David!” on Palm Sunday roared “Crucify him!” only days later.  Even Christ himself, the quintessential Prophet was not spared.  On the road to Jerusalem to face his destiny, Jesus is transfigured and hears the words every son longs to hear, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.”  In Gethsemane and on the Cross, he feels the full weight of divine abandonment: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Hearts of Stone

In today’s Gospel, Jesus is confronted by his ministry’s failure to penetrate the hearts of his own people.  Their hearts have become as hardened stone, and now they physically pick up rocks to violently stone him.  It seems strange to call Jesus’ ministry a failure, but what else could we call it from a worldly perspective?

After a promising beginning, full of signs and wonders, Jesus loses followers, from the rich young man through those who could not accept his Eucharistic teaching.  One of his inner circle betrays him, and his chosen leader and Rock, Peter, denies him.  Only a handful had the devotion to stand at the foot of his cross.  In the eyes of the world, Jesus and his ministry are a failure.

But this is our entrance into the heart of Christ’s Paschal Mystery.  Why do we call it a mystery?  God is Life. He is the Source and Ground of all Being.  God cannot die.  Yet God does die on Calvary’s Cross.  God is All-Powerful.  He has no weakness. Yet he is delivered up, defenseless, to the politically and religiously powerful to be scourged, mocked, abused, killed.  The ultimate sin, human beings murdering their God, becomes the act of ultimate love and redemption.  Defeat and death become the triumph of eternal life. We cannot intellectually reconcile these things.  We can only enter into the Paschal Mystery sacramentally.  Theologian Romano Guardini: “There are profound questions that return after every proposed solution, mysteries whose intrinsic meanings, not solved but lived, increasingly clarify the faith of those who live them.”

Success Is Not a Gospel Category

Perhaps your Lent has been like mine.  A failure.  Scuttled, intermittent prayers.  Lost opportunities to generously give, serve, and stand in solidarity with the poor and vulnerable.  Self-indulgent in food and drink.  Broken promises to God and those close to me.  Still struggling and committing the same sins that I repented of on Ash Wednesday.

Fortunately, success is not a Gospel category.  In light of Christ Crucified, failure may be more beneficial to our spiritual growth than success. We can see ourselves as we truly are, wounded and in need of a Redeemer.  As C.S. Lewis wrote, “How can we meet (the divine) face to face till we have faces?”  All false fronts must drop before God if we are to enter into a real, holy, intimate relationship.  He desires hearts to become fruitful, not paragons of individual achievement, even spiritual achievement, not “self-made” women and men.

We approach God through the liturgies Holy Week as St. Therese of Lisieux did, “with hands emptied for your love . . . more and more emptied that they may be filled with You.”  Our own successes and achievements (which we owe to God anyway,) our own failures and defeats, mean little standing within the Paschal Mystery of Christ’s death and resurrection.

God’s forgiveness, grace, peace, and love are abundantly available to be received this blessed week, if we only die to our obsessions with success and failure, winning and losing, and enter the divine mystery of our redemption.  If we open ourselves up to filled with the love flowing from the heart of God, he will accomplish his saving work through us, making us fruitful beyond our imagining.

 

John Graveline, MTS, is a husband and father of three small children.  He has worked for almost twenty-five years as a catechist and ministry coordinator specializing in the evangelization of young adults, adults, and families.  He is currently on the pastoral staff of St. Luke University Parish at Grand Valley State University as the Faith Formation Director.  

 

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Who Do You See?

The Gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke tell a more or less chronological account of the public life of Jesus. But John, well, John is different. It’s mystical and full of symbols. It’s a beautiful and astounding look at the Lord.

Today, Jesus is speaking to the Pharisees, and they are having a really hard time understanding Him, seeing from His point of view.

He said to them, “You belong to what is below,
I belong to what is above.
You belong to this world,
but I do not belong to this world.
That is why I told you that you will die in your sins.
For if you do not believe that I AM,
you will die in your sins.”
So they said to him, “Who are you?”
Jesus said to them, “What I told you from the beginning.
I have much to say about you in condemnation.
But the one who sent me is true,
and what I heard from him I tell the world.”
They did not realize that he was speaking to them of the Father. – Jn 8:23-17

Since we know who Jesus is (the Son of the God, the second Person of the Most Holy Trinity), we have an advantage over the Pharisees here. They are only able to think in earthy terms. They have a narrow notion of who and what the Messiah will be, and Jesus isn’t it. They cannot see what is right in front of them.

It’s easy to scoff at them  (“Dumb bunnies! How could they miss that this was the Messiah??”) But we do exactly the same thing. We miss what is right in front of us.

I have a friend who is an amazing nature photographer. She sends me pictures of flowers waiting to burst open, birds posed in flight, a tiny insect making its way through a vast bed of greenery. Her vision of nature is detailed and artistic. While I know how to work a camera, I completely miss what she sees. It’s like she has another dimension of sight that I don’t have.

How often do we, like the Pharisees, ignore what is in front of us? Usually it’s because of pride; we think we already know everything. We are “better than.” We don’t speak that language. God the Father puts exactly the same thing in front of us that He has put in front of every saint in history … and we are still profoundly confused, proud, blind to the Truth.

Jesus has a singular vision: the will of the Father. He is focused only on that, despite all that goes on around Him as He carries out the Father’s will. We cannot see we exactly as he sees, but He invites us to try. Pope Benedict XVI (writing as Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger):

Yes, you can see God. Whoever sees Christ sees him…

For the next question is now (for all of post-apostolic Christianity, at least): How can you see Christ and see him in such a way that you see the Father at the same time? …

The seeing occurs in following after, Following Christ as his disciple is a life lived at the place where Jesus stands, and this place is the Passion. In it, and nowhere else, is his glory present.

What does this demonstrate? The concept of seeing has acquired an unexpected dynamic. Seeing happens through a manner of living that we call following after. Seeing occurs by entering into the Passion of Jesus. There we see, and in him we see the Father also. From this perspective the words of the prophet quoted at the end of the Passion narrative of John attain their full greatness: “They shall look on him whom they have pierced” (Jn 19:37)

When we “follow after” Christ, when we become His disciples, when we pick up our Cross and pursue Him: we shall see. We need to stop questioning, interrogating Jesus like the Pharisees in today’s Gospel. Today, Jesus answers the question, “Who are you?” Let us see Him clearly, with eyes of faith.

 

EH headshotElise Hilton is an author, blogger and speaker. Her role at Diocesan Publications is Editor & Writer with the Marketing Team. She has worked in parish faith formation and Catholic education for over 25 years. A passionate student of theology, Elise enjoys sharing her thoughts on parish communication, the role of social media in the Church, Franciscan spirituality and Catholic parenting. To enquire about booking her as a speaker, please contact her at ehilton@diocesan.com.

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Biblical Soap Opera: Lies, Deceit, And … Sacredness

The two readings in today’s liturgy might be episodes of a video series entitled “Lies and Deceptions.”  The two are short stories that represent reprehensible behavior on the part of people who are up to no good, like the old fools who conspire to do harm to the beautiful Susanna in the Book of Daniel and the mob who are intent on stoning the “woman caught in adultery,” from the Gospel of St. John.

Both stories have people who blow the whistle on the lying and the deceitfulness: Daniel and Jesus.  They call the offensive actions for what they really are and prevent further harm.  Daniel stops the violence by confronting the mob intent on harming Susanna even further than she already was and Jesus shows us the proper relationship with sin and sinners by an unusual way. Jesus’ message is that we should not judge one another; to leave judgment to God.  He dramatizes this kneeling down and writing something in the dust of the earth.  What did he write?  No one knows; the gospel story doesn’t elaborate.  However, the dramatic effect of this odd writing exercise was to quiet the mob.  No one dared to carry through on the intended violence towards the woman.

Let the one who is sinless cast the first stone!  The good news here is that they understood Jesus’ message; yet later on in John’s gospel they were about to stone Jesus, but he slipped away from them.  What a mixed bag of conflicts we humans are!

There are a variety of lessons for here; let’s look at two of them.  First, we need to realize that we are sinners and have no right to invade others with our negative judgments.  That we need to leave judgment to God alone and trust in God’s love and care for us and other sinners like us.

Second, we are called to treat others as sacred.  Clearly the “elders” did not treat Susanna with respect, but saw her only as an object of their lust.  Daniel saved the day by standing out from the crowd and calling them to account for their wicked intentions to carry out the original lies and deceptions of the elders.

What is there here for our experiencing life and its relationship with both God and neighbor?  To risk the courage to stand up to the evil intent of the mob like Daniel did.  And to learn to love and care for the sinner while avoiding her sinfulness as Jesus does.  These are indeed difficult tasks and we engage them neither easily nor lightly – they are God’s gifts to us and do not flow simply from our own strengths.

Loving God, as we come to know you more intimately in our lives, help us not to flee the calls for justice and peace that abound in our world.  Keep us close to you and strengthen our resolve to follow you in service of others in their seemingly impossible situations, not unlike the two women in today’s scripture.

biblicalFr. Tom Shanahan, SJ has been at Creighton University since the early ‘70’s teaching in the theology department. “I teach in the Christian Spirituality Master’s Degree Program, a summertime program which focuses on preparing persons to be active in the apostolate of spiritual direction and retreat work. I serve as the chaplain for the men’s and women’s intercollegiate basketball teams.” [This reflection is used with permission from Creighton University’s Online Ministries.]

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His Hour Had Not Yet Come

His hour had not yet come.  The “Jews”( codeword in the Gospel of John for that subset of Jewish people who opposed Jesus), were out to get Jesus.  They wanted to kill him, to wipe him from the face of the earth, to put an end once and for all to this one who was obnoxious to them.  Our reading from the Book of Wisdom reveals harshly to us the mind of those who wish to kill God’s Just One.  Wisdom also tells us that those who do so think themselves able to put God to the test, able to thwart the plans of God.

His hour had not yet come.  They had tried to arrest him, they had forced Jesus to move about in a hidden way.  And yet he was still recognized, the people still knew who this Just One was and that he is the Christ.  What would someone have thought who was there, who saw Jesus in Jerusalem for the feast of Tabernacles?  He was not, at least for the moment, teaching on the mountaintop or in the Temple, but he was still clearly the Christ, the one sent by the Father.

His hour had not yet come.  The Jewish authorities, those who opposed Jesus, thought that they were in charge.  This pattern had repeated itself many times: a prophet arises, a bunch of desperate people follow him, the prophet is killed, the story ends.  In the minds of those in charge, Jesus was nothing more than another instance of this story, and they were in charge of the ending.  Time to take charge and end the story.

His hour had not yet come.  Even the people had doubts about Jesus.  “But we know where he is from.  When the Christ comes, no one will know where he is from.”  The Christ is supposed to be unknown to them, someone with an enigmatic history and a story that does not look like the story of our lives.  Somehow or other the Christ, the anointed one of God, the savior, is supposed to be drastically different than the rest of us, a Superman figure.  But they know that Jesus is from Nazareth, and that he is the son of Joseph and Mary.  This must rule him out.

His hour had not yet come.  Jesus reminds us that God is in charge.  The will of the Father will not be thwarted, will not be undone.  Nor will the plan of God bend to the ordinary rules of human engagement: politics and power and expectation.  In the plan of God, Jesus was not supposed to be arrested yet, he was not supposed to die yet.  And so he did not.  Perhaps the story really is that simple: God has not willed it, it has not happened.  Period.

His hour had not yet come.  What happens when his “hour” does come?  What then?  Is God still the one in charge?  Or does he cede control to someone or something else?  Is the plan of God still moving forward at that “hour”?  No one laid a hand upon him, because his hour had not yet come.  Soon enough, they will lay a hand upon him, and much more than that.

Yet I did not come on my own.  Jesus was – is – sent by the Father do to the will of the Father.  Nothing more, nothing less.  The will of the Father is that he die on the cross and rise to new life to save our lives.  And nothing, no one, will stop him.

 

time had not yet comeFr. Scott Nolan is a priest of the Diocese of Grand Rapids and serving as the Pastor of St. Stephen Parish in East Grand Rapids, MI.

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Jesus: Embodiment of Truth

Today’s readings challenge us to confront our tendencies toward unbelief and the role that belonging to a group may play in those tendencies.   Although we may wish to define ourselves distinctly as individuals, we are also infused with a deep desire for belonging.  We are wired for community.  While that desire is good, it can also get us into deep confusion when the group loses its way.  In that sense, we are very much like sheep:  we need a shepherd to rescue us.

In the first reading, Moses is that shepherd.  With the benefit of hindsight, we can look with wonder at our predecessors and their willingness to embrace an idol that is so clearly unworthy of worship and unable to deliver the good that they desire. Given the preceding narrative of miraculous deliverance from captivity, their decision makes no sense at all.  But somehow, we can also identify with their bad decisions and their resulting plight, which puts them in the soup together.

All such journeys begin with a single step, and sometimes those steps take us where we do not want to go.  Maybe they became distracted and bored. They got a little carried away.  But it did not take too long — “yada, yada, yada” — before they end up “depraved”.  That is a strong word.  We do not like to think of ourselves in that way, as it sounds hopelessly disordered, beyond remedy.  Fortunately, that is not the case.

The gospel reminds us that even the religious folk, who keep from getting carried away at all cost, have their own problems with unbelief.  Jesus’ discourse about testimony and faith reminds these people that they are not so far above their predecessors as they may think.  The record is full of evidence, but they are not able (or willing) to see it.  Again, with the benefit of hindsight, we know they are missing something.  But their plight is ours, too. Even with a “good” life, the comfort of our own paradigms can keep us from recognizing our own flaws.  Here, too, the desire to belong can sometimes keep us from recognizing the truth.

While our human dignity depends on the special identity and giftedness that each of us possess, our faith depends on reconciliation which brings us into a community.  Truth is the basis for real community, where love and belonging are real, too.  Jesus is the embodiment of that truth.  We need more of this in our lives.  And we need to be reminded (often, it seems) not to accept the inferior substitutes that we so readily embrace, which may seem to provide comfort, but cannot deliver what we really need.  In our Lenten journey, may we continue to be open to seeing anew the distractions that keep us from following Jesus and from real community.  Thanks be to God.

 

Edward A. Morse if a professor of law at Creighton University. He says, “My wife and I have five children. Two are Creighton alumni, two are Creighton students, and one is still at home with us. We live on the farm on which I was raised and continue to help operate part of it.  These agrarian roots influence our lives in various ways, and sometimes that influence can be seen in these reflections.” [This reflection is used with permission from Creighton University’s Online Ministries.]

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Be Amazed

We all wonder what God is like: is He some old white guy on a cloud? Is He a He? Does He have arms to hug me? Where is God and what’s He like? Today’s readings are bursting with information about God.

The readings begin with Isaiah. He’s telling the Jews that God is faithful: He is keeping the covenant He made so long ago with Abraham. God will be the God of Israel and they will be His people. Forever. No additions or subtractions, no fast-talking sales man pitch: forever. Isaiah even tells the people of Israel to rejoice, sing out! (And Isaiah is not really known for his light-heartedness.)

Psalm 145 is the responsorial psalm today. In just a few short lines we learn that God is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and kind. The Lord is compassionate, faithful, holy. Those that have fallen are gently lifted up by God. He is just and truthful, and He calls out the name of those near to Him.

Wow. This is our God. What an amazing and hopeful faith we have!

Finally, in the Gospel of John, Jesus speaks to the Jews. These are the same people Isaiah spoke to. They know about God’s covenant; it’s in the marrow of their bones. Their life centers on God and His laws and His plans for them. Jesus makes it clear that He is doing the work of God the Father. If the Jews want to know more about God, they need to look at Jesus.

For the Father loves the Son
and shows him everything that he himself does,
and he will show him greater works than these,
so that you may be amazed. (Jn 5:20)

“Amazed.” The Jews that Jesus were speaking to had no idea what “works” the Father was going to show. We do. Are we amazed? Are we astounded? Astonished? Do we wake up every morning rather dumbfounded at the blessings God has provided with us? Do we look upon our family and friends and are almost blown away by the love?

More importantly, do we enter into prayer and liturgy with amazement? Do we worship knowing that the unbelievable is believable – that God so loved us He sent His only Son to come among us, teach us, be a model for us, feed us His very Body and Blood, and ultimately take our sins upon Himself so as to destroy death?

Are we amazed?

Today, be amazed at God. Be amazed at Christ, Be amazed at the Holy Spirit. He is our God and He is amazing.

 

EH headshotElise Hilton is an author, blogger and speaker. Her role at Diocesan Publications is Editor & Writer with the Marketing Team. She has worked in parish faith formation and Catholic education for over 25 years. A passionate student of theology, Elise enjoys sharing her thoughts on parish communication, the role of social media in the Church, Franciscan spirituality and Catholic parenting. To enquire about booking her as a speaker, please contact her at ehilton@diocesan.com.

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Do You Want To Be Well?

Do you ever feel like you are just waiting for someone to lift you into God’s healing waters?  What if once cleansed of your ailment, you could return again and again for further assurance of healing, a spiritual refresher?

In today’s Gospel reading from John, we read about a man crippled for over 38 years.  He has long been waiting to experience the healing power of God. This Gospel not only challenged me to consider the remarkable healing power of Christ but also His compassion and mercy.

The Gospel of John, Chapter 5 begins:

One man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years.
When Jesus saw him lying there
and knew that he had been ill for a long time, he said to him,
“Do you want to be well?’”

The sick man answered him,
“Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool
when the water is stirred up;
while I am on my way, someone else gets down there before me.”

After reflecting on this conversation between the man and Jesus, it occurred to me that there are aspects of my finances dependent on my employer, my health reliant on my doctor and my spiritual well-being conditional on my priest; ultimately the most important dependency is on Jesus.  It is not that my faith in Jesus negates the need for the others: each is an integral part in attaining that particular well-being I desire.  With Jesus, as John’s Gospel illustrates, so much more is possible, including the miraculous:

Jesus said to him, “Get up, pick up your pallet and walk.

Immediately the man became well,

and picked up his pallet and began to walk.

There is Always More with Jesus

At first, today’s Gospel appears to be all about the physical. However, as so often happens when we encounter Christ, there is always more.  We see Jesus’ desire for a deeper connection with us.

After this Jesus found him in the temple area and said to him,
“Look, you are well; do not sin any more,
so that nothing worse may happen to you.”

We see this same occurrence with the man lowered by his friends through the roof to be healed by Jesus.  We see again and again how in healing physical maladies, Jesus demonstrates the authority given to him by God. It is this same power that allows him to forgive sins.  

A Personal Analogy

For the last ten months I have been battling Eczema on my hands.  Eczema is an incurable and chronic ailment. I feel so defeated with those words – incurable and chronic.  There are days when the itch or pain is almost more than I can bear.  In those moments, I am reminded of the long suffering people seeking Jesus’ healing in the Gospels.  Jesus uses their suffering and healing to teach those healed as well as those witnessing the healing,

I prayed for an insight into my current condition.  It was no coincidence that I would have today’s readings to ponder.

Comparing Reconciliation and Chronic Illness

There are remarkable similarities between the eczema on my hands and the sin on my soul. Both need healing. For my hands there are remedies such as medicines and creams; for the soul there is the Sacrament of Reconciliation.

I saw other connections:

  1. The root cause can not always be determined and can lay dormant within somebody for years.
  2. To eradicate it one often needs to investigate deep into oneself to discover the root of the issue.
  3. It is often painful, uncomfortable, embarrassing, and can create anxiety.
  4. In order to be properly healed you need to see a physician.
  5. The longer you put it off that visit,  the more unnecessary suffering you will endure.

I often feel embarrassed and ashamed of my hands and want to hide them, much like being caught in the shame or guilt of sin and wanting to hide from God.  Covering up (either my illness or my sins) does no good in bringing about healing.  My external healing means exposing the skin to the healing properties of the sun, transforms them from broken and useless to whole again.  The Sacrament of Reconciliation, through the healing grace of the Son, radically transforms my soul, healing my spiritual brokenness, making me whole again.  

Broken Skin, Broken Relationships

The hardest part of losing full use of my hands has been communicating with my daughter.  She is profoundly deaf and our family uses American Sign Language to communicate. Since my hands started to bother me last June, I have sometimes felt as if I trying to talk with laryngitis. I am acutely aware that I don’t speak to my daughter as often as I should or as thoroughly due to this. I lament that my disease has, at times, robbed me of the close relationship my daughter and I are privileged to enjoy.

To be fully healed like the man waiting to be lifted into the healing waters, I must be willing to accept the love and mercy of Christ.  When I avoid the Sacrament of Reconciliation, my communication with him is strained, like trying to sign with crippled hands or speak with no voice.  This great authority given to the Son of God is the same bestowed upon our priests through Jesus. We don’t have to wait to receive this healing. While our desire may be physical health, Christ desires so much more for us.

Christ is asking you right now, “Do you want to be well?”

 

Allison Gingras, founder www.ReconciledToYou.com (RTY);and host of A Seeking Heart on BreadboxMedia.com weekdays 10 am ET.   Allison is an writer and inspirational speaker.  She is a contributing author in “The Catholic Mom’s Prayer Companion” and the “Created to Relate” Journal and Author of the CareNote from Abbey Press entitled, “Being a Good Enough Parent”.  She presents the Catholic faith lived in the ordinary of everyday life through her experiences and humor.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

seek
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Seek Good, Seek God

What wonderful messages from our Lenten readings today! From our first reading by Isaiah we get a sense of the extraordinary life that our Lord promises us and today’s pre-Gospel verse and reading from John provide insight into how to get there. We begin with Isaiah’s reading and the Lord’s promise of a world free from pain and sorry and, instead, full of joy and gladness. It is believed that Isaiah is writing about this utopian world in apocalyptic language and, thus, it should not necessarily be taken literally. Instead, it provides insight into what life could be on earth and what certainly awaits us following our death. God undoubtedly provides us the means to minimize suffering and sadness in our lives and to maximize the wellbeing of all on earth. It is through the teachings and actions of Jesus and his message of love and compassion for others that guide us during this Lenten season and beyond.

Following the teachings of Jesus is not always easy. Our pre-Gospel reading reminds us of that and the importance of not necessarily being perfect and free of evil but, instead, to seek good in all we do. Lent is that pathway in which we reflect on our faults and do what we can to address these and to become the best we can in God’s eyes. And to me that involves doing all I can to not only follow the teachings of Jesus, but to seek out a life based on the example that he provided to us while on earth. Although this is difficult to do and I am certainly not close to perfect, I am reassured that the Lord will accompany me along the way.

John’s reading highlights the healing power of Jesus but, more importantly, addresses the value of faith. As seen in the John’s reading, the royal official wanted Jesus to visit his ill son who was near death in order to save him. Although Jesus healed his son, he chastised the man and others for seeking “signs and wonders” in order to believe. As we progress through Lent, John reminds us of the importance of having faith in the word of God. And rather than coming to God only when we need him, to open up a daily conversation with God and to trust that He will answer our prayers in His way and not necessarily according to our wishes or expectations for He knows us best. The key is to be open to God’s words, to seek good in all we do, and to have faith as we progress through the Lenten season on a journey that will lead to a long, beautiful, and joyous life with God!

 

Today’s guest blogger is Michael Kavan, currently the Associate Dean for Student Affairs at Creighton University School of Medicine. He is also a psychologist and a Professor of Family Medicine and Professor of Psychiatry. A faculty member at Creighton since 1988, Kavan teaches classes on a variety of topics related to behavioral medicine, depression, anxiety, and interviewing skills for medical students and residents. He also practices psychology at a family medicine clinic.

Kavan says, “I am happily married to my wife, Mary, and we have four daughters ages 22, 21, 18, and 14. I truly enjoy working with medical students and assisting in their professional development. I like to spend time cycling, running, fly fishing, reading, and spending time with my family.”

[This reflection is used by permission from Creighton University’s Collaborative Ministry Office.]

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Behold, the Lamb of God!

One of the first people to recognize Jesus as the Messiah was His cousin, John. When Mary journeyed to visit her cousin Elizabeth, Elizabeth’s baby leapt in her womb for joy, in recognition of the Messiah, quietly residing in Mary’s womb.

We have no record in Sacred Scripture of the relationship between Jesus and His cousin John as they grew up. Their relationship picks up as John begins his public ministry, calling people to repentance in order to prepare for the Messiah. However, it would not be hard to imagine that these two spent time together as boys, doing what boys do: exploring and hiking, finding creepy crawly things, helping their parents.

John’s role in salvation history is quite important, as author Jimmy Akin points out:

He served as the forerunner or herald of the Messiah and was to prepare for him by fulfilling an Elijah-like role by calling the nation to repentance.

In keeping with that, he baptized people as a sign of their repentance.

He also came to identify and announce the Messiah. According to John the Baptist: “I myself did not know him; but for this I came baptizing with water, that he might be revealed to Israel” (John 1:31).

In the Gospel reading yesterday, John the Baptist makes a bold proclamation to his followers. He points out Jesus and cries out: “Behold, the Lamb of God!” Jesus, he tells those gathered, will take away the sins of the world, and that the Spirit of God has made known to John that Jesus is the Son of God. John’s boyhood friend and cousin is the Messiah, the one who will save us all from sin and death.

To our ears, “Lamb of God” may seem like an unusual phrase. To Jews however, this phrase is quite familiar, and very important. This image is at the heart of the Jewish covenant story, as God brought them out of Egypt and slavery. Fr. Aaron Kuhn:

The original lamb was sacrificed during the time of Moses (1393-1273 B.C.), and its blood marked the doorposts of the Israelites and saved them from the last plague, the angel of death passing over the city and killing every firstborn child and animal (Exodus 12). The body of the lamb was eaten as a sacrificial rite. The blood of the lamb saved the people from death.

The gospel of John the Evangelist—the Beloved Disciple—which we heard today is a Passover message.  At the beginning of the gospel, Jesus is presented as the new Passover lamb, taking the place of the traditional lamb during the celebration of the Passover meal and instead offering his body as food and his blood to save us from death. “I am the living bread come down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world … unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you … my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink” (John 6:51, 53, 55).

In his first letter to the Corinthians, St. Paul’s words seem to fit this scene of John’s declaration quite well:

For we know partially and we prophesy partially, but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away. When I was a child, I used to talk as a child, think as a child, reason as a child; when I became a man, I put aside childish things. (1 Cor. 13: 9-11)

John the Baptist knew that his role in salvation was “partial:” his job was to point the way to the “perfect,” Jesus Himself. These boyhood friends now had to step into the roles God had created for them: prophet and Messiah. Just as they had to put away childish things, so must we. Our faith in the Lamb of God must always be growing, always deepening. “Behold! The Lamb of God!” Our own hearts must cry out for Him, our souls’ greatest desire. Our lives must always point the way to Him, our salvation, so that others may also come to know and believe.

“Behold! The Lamb of God!”

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The Baptism Of The Lord

Place yourself at the scene: You see a small crowd gathered around a large, wild-looking man with hair and beard gone bushy – almost savage looking. He – John the Baptist – wears only a tunic made of camel and preaches that the Messiah is near. This John is an almost ferocious–looking creature, but people followed and listened, hungry for not simply spiritual direction but for the sorely-needed Chosen One. They follow this man, this preacher, to the Jordan River.

One by one, John baptizes them with water. He cautions them though: There is one coming who will baptize in water and the Holy Spirit. That is what we all need, because in that baptism is grace.

And one day, as John is preaching and baptizing, Jesus come to the Jordan. John halts: That is Him! That is the Lamb of God! He is the one who will take away our sins!

What does Jesus do? He doesn’t step up on higher ground and begin preaching. He doesn’t tell everyone that what John has said is right on target. No, he wades into the water, and is baptized.

This striking scene, that we celebrate today, gives us much to ponder. As Catholics, we too are baptized. And we are baptized in water and the Holy Spirit. This baptism (along with confirmation and Holy Orders) leaves an “indelible seal” upon us. That mark or seal actually changes us, and it’s permanent. We can’t undo it, even if we stop attending Mass, even if we declare ourselves a witch or warlock, even if … we are marked with the sign of Christ for all eternity. For children, it is the parents’ responsibility to nurture the faith of their child, to care for the child’s soul. As the child gets older, more and more of the responsibility for one’s relationship with God shifts to the individual, until that person reaches maturity. And each of us, when we dies, will need to account to God as to how and why we chose what we did for the care (or lack thereof) for our soul.

Jesus’ baptism was NOT a superhero movie scene. He did not enter the Jordan an “ordinary” man and emerge as a shining god or an all-powerful king ready to smash the Roman empire. No, it was a picture-perfect example of what we are to do. We need to seek the Lamb of God through trusted sources. We need to be humble enough to admit that we need help, that we need the grace God makes available to us. We need to strip off all the worldly things that hold us back from our beloved Father. Most importantly, we need to continuously seek ways to live out our baptismal promises: to reject Satan, to believe in God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, to live our faith as the Church teaches.

There are not “magicicians” or superpower heroes among the faithful. Instead, there are those who – every day – decide to live out their faith. As Father Bede Jarrett said, “Baptism doe not set us right, but, by the high privilege is affords, it gives us the power to set ourselves right.” And with the grace of baptism, so we must set ourselves right, every day.