February 27, 2021

Listen to Him

Second Sunday of Lent

"Then a cloud came, casting a shadow over them;  from the cloud came a voice, 'This is my beloved Son.  Listen to him.' ” (Mark 9:8)

Reflection

“This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.”  In all of the New Testament, we only hear the voice of God the Father twice.  First at the Baptism of Jesus, his voice speaks directly from the sky and identifies Jesus as his beloved Son.  And here at the Transfiguration, God speaks right from the cloud and says to us … Listen to Him.  This direct quote is meant for us, pay close attention to Jesus with ears and heart.  
 
And during this season of Lent, because we are sinners, hard of hearing, hardened of heart, and stubborn of will.  It is imperative that we not just hear Jesus, but listen.  And Listen again.  So that we can clearly know where he wants us to go and why. 
 
A friend of mine is in advertising, and he tells me that a consumer needs to hear an ad on TV or radio six times before the consumer is moved to action.  We never see any commercial just once.  How about those ads which repeat the phone number 4 or 5 times.  They figure if you hear it over and over, you might just call.
 
Yes, advertisers can move us to act, but how much more happy and blessed would life be if we really listened to Jesus and let him move us as well.  Only if we listen.  And listen again.
 
On my 30 day retreat, making the Spiritual Exercises, my director would ask me to read a Scripture passage much like this one about the Transfiguration.  We would talk about my prayer, but then he would ask me to repeat the reading again, and again on the third day.  I found that each reading brought me to a deeper level.  Listening again, I could hear what God wanted to say to me, and what I was to do next, once the retreat was over and I walked down from the mountain. 
 
Every story in the Bible, every passage, is God’s way of saying to you “I love you more than you can imagine.  I forgive you more times than you can count.   And I send you now to put that love and mercy into action." 
 
Lent is about fasting, almsgiving and prayer.  And wouldn’t you agree that listening is one of the most basic forms of prayer.  Be good at listening, and be good at loving.  During this second week of Lent, open the text, open your eyes, open your ears and listen.  And then move ahead with the heart.
 

February 21, 2021

Repent!

First Sunday of Lent

"Repent, and believe in the gospel." (Matthew 1:15)

Reflection

I thought I might pass on a great meditation I found from one of my Jesuit brothers here in the Chicago community:

The first reading of the Ash Wednesday liturgy, which marks the beginning of Lent, bids us to fast and weep and mourn and rend not our garments, but our hearts instead—all this to call upon the mercy of God and to re-center our lives on God.

But a year into the global pandemic, might we be tempted to ask, “Lent? Now? Really? Haven’t we been in an extended Lent these last twelve months”?

Fair question, in a way. But there is one crucial difference: We did not choose the pandemic; it chose us, like nothing else in history had ever done. Although we may have been able to control some of our normal routines and patterns, “the virus” left virtually no major aspect of life as we knew it untouched.

Yet Lent is different, for we are free to choose it, or not choose it. We can, of course, close our eyes, hold our breath, fast forward our lives to Easter and beyond, and then exclaim, “Well, that was quick!” Or we can treat Lent merely as a time of minor inconvenience by swearing off candy, desserts, adult beverages, cigarettes, and the like—and risk annoying others with the side-effects of our piety—and then breathlessly boast, “Made it.”

Or this: We can genuinely seek to “rend our hearts” as a way to reconnect with our God, who desires nothing less for any of us.

The traditional Lenten practices of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving offer limitless ways of reordering our lives—our priorities, desires, relationships, fears, and hopes. Unlike the pandemic, Lent does not—should not—instill fear in us. Rather, it should awaken that deep awareness of the presence of God in our lives that can so easily be overwhelmed by disordered and false priorities, desires, relationships, fears, and hopes.

Throughout this holy season of Lent, may we take to heart and joyfully respond to Jesus’ proclamation as he began his public ministry: “This is the time of fulfillment. The kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the gospel.”  -- Dave Mastrangelo, S.J.

 

February 08, 2021

A leper came to Jesus

Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

 A leper came to Jesus and kneeling down begged him and said, “If you wish, you can make me clean.”
Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand, touched him, and said to him, “I do will it. Be made clean.”
(Mark 1:40,41)

Reflection 

When I was in second grade, sister would announce to us, “OK students, tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, now I won’t give you any homework so you can work on your Valentines, and in class tomorrow I will give you a chance to pass out your cards to the whole class.”

So, we’d go home that night and work on our Valentines.

Now I came from a huge family.  So, my mom would go out and by several boxes of valentines and we would spend the whole evening around the dining room table signing our names on the back of about 30 or so Valentines, how ever many we had in our class. 

Then came the time when we would have to address the envelopes.  Sister gave us a list of all the names, and when you are in 2nd grade, you gave Valentines to everyone, it didn’t matter whether it was to a boy a girl, someone you didn’t really like, whatever, we gave them out to everyone. 

The next day we would carry in this big lunch bag filled with cards.  Around the classroom were all these pocket envelopes taped up all around the four walls.  Then she would give us permission to go around and deliver all the Valentines to each person in the room.

And of course the best part was at the end when you’d take them home and dump them all out on the living room floor and just marvel at how much attention you had received from the entire class.

But that was second grade.
By the time I was thirteen, just starting high school.  The rules all changed.

I found that I didn’t give so many Valentine’s anymore.  Certainly not to boys, and definitely NOT to my teachers.  I did give Valentines to some girls.  But as every teenage boy knows, you don’t give any Valentines to the girls you wanted to avoid.  And sadly, we were also too afraid to give them to the girls we didn’t want to avoid.  For fear of rejection.

Those were the rules.

If your experience is anything like mine, you will agree that the free and spontaneous expressions of love we had as children, somehow became inhibited by the rules that were there to protect us from looking silly.  As adults, we have held on to a lot of those fears, resulting in the paradox of becoming isolated from those to whom we are the closest.

That’s the same situation that the people of Palestine in the time of Jesus.  The Jewish people were very concerned with hundreds and hundreds of extra rules that had been added on to the original Ten Commandments.  Some dictated their clothing, their hairstyles, what kinds of activities people could do or not do on the Sabbath, and whether someone was religiously pure or not.

For example, the Jews had very strict rules about the various skin diseases called leprosy.  Leprosy was not only painful and horrible to look at, it was fatal, and had the power to wipe out the entire community unless it was controlled.  So, the rules said a leper was to live apart from the community and even shout out “Unclean, unclean” to ward off anyone who might approach. 

The people were convinced that the community would ultimately achieve health and life through isolation and separation.

Those were the rules.

But one person, a man with leprosy, wanted badly to be freed from his disease and from the rules that kept him isolated.  He wanted to live in a community like my second grade class where love would flow freely and people would show their joy in public.

Where did he go for health and life?  He came to Jesus.

By doing what was clearly against the rules, approaching another person, the leper shows us the strength of his faith and his hope. 

By doing what no one else dared to do, touch a diseased person, Jesus confirms the leper’s faith and his hope by returning his desire with a love that heals him and moves him to action. 

It is important to keep in mind that the leper is always free to approach Jesus or not.
God does not force us to love him or have faith in him.  But he does will it.

So, HOW can we do what the man with leprosy did?  We draw near to Jesus in the Eucharist and ask for healing.  For us, faith in Jesus Christ helps us to confront our adolescent fears, and our adult fears, and approach people …

- offering someone spontaneous generosity of our time
            - using a kind word when we might normally use sarcasm
            - for a moment, trying to understand the opinions of someone we really detest
            - extending words of gratitude for small favors
            - or remaining silent when we’d really rather gossip

When we come to Jesus, we find that we can overcome the rules that keep us isolated for so many years.

Whenever anyone risks believing that the power of love is greater than our fears, the larger community is healed, made whole, made sacramental and holy.  The healed leper went off to proclaim his conversion and people kept coming to Jesus from all sides.

As Catholics, even in days of Covid and distancing, we believe that touch is life giving and holy.  We can still wear a mask and offer a healing touch.  Touching people with the HEART, we do not spread disease but grace.

Each of the seven sacraments of our church contains some dimension of human physical touch, whether by anointing, a kiss, or even a simple handshake.

On this first Valentine's Day of Covid, we are pleased to do what the leper did:  come to Jesus.  We once again approach Jesus at this table, in this sacrament of thanksgiving, with faith that he wills to touch our hearts and to cure everyone of us of the pandemic of sin.