Sunday, November 30, 2014

At Every Moment, Do What Love Demands

The above words are on a stained glass window above a giant statue of the Divine Mercy, which dominates the entranceway to St. Anne’s Church, in Gilbert, Arizona.  The words, directly above Jesus’ head, appear almost as a cartoon caption from His mouth.  Divine Mercy: Love Demands.  They seem to say somewhat co-equal things.
This week, visiting my nieces and their families, is bringing me great joy, yet even with them I feel some emptiness which only this adoration chapel I now sit in fulfills.  I find joy and contentment here, even more than at the girls’ homes.  I wish I were more part of their lives, and I know they wish the same, but here, in the adoration chapel is where I feel home.
The chapel at St. Anne’s has two large gold angels holding an ornate monstrance containing the Eucharist.  I was reminded this week on various websites that the word Eucharist means thanksgiving.  It is a most fitting reminder for me, for it is here that I feel most thankful, talking to the Lord, giving thanks for His many blessings.
As I exited the church I looked up and read the words again:  “At Every Moment, Do What Love Demands.”  They are almost haunting.  I pause:  How do I do that?  What is love demanding?  What is Your will for me right now, Lord, and how can I mesh that with Your will --- and my will --- for my future? 
I recalled a prayer I recently read which spoke of my future, and how the command to love fits into it:
Deign, O Lord, to grant me the experience of true love, before You take me from this life, for it will be a great thing at the hour of my death to realize that I shall be judged by One whom I have loved above all things.  I shall be able to meet you with security, certain that I shall not be going into a foreign land, but into my own country, for it belongs to the One whom I have loved so truly and who has loved me in return.             --- Divine Intimacy, p1068
Doing what Love demands is doing what God demands.  Doing what Love demands at every moment means that at the hour of our death we won’t “be going into a foreign land.”  It will seem like home.  I like that; that’s what I’d like my death to be like.  But for now, I have to live my life, and live it well.
I was reminded of something else I recently read, in a book titled The Tremendous Lover, by M. Eugene Boylan.  In it he describes the relationship of my life to Jesus’ life as being similar to a movie in which we both act.  Jesus is the star of the movie, and the scenes of His life have already been acted out.  The film of that is “in the can.”  Now it is time for the scenes of my life to be acted out.  I want to do my role well, the way it was written for me.  I know that in the movie, The Life of Jesus, I am but a bit player, yet He is there Himself, every day on my set, urging me on, and cuing me when I forget my lines.  And when I make a major mistake --- as I seem to do so often --- He yells:  “Cut!!  Stop!!  Stop!!”  And even if I am caught up in the role of my life, I can always seem to hear Him calling when I screw up.  And that’s when I start to say “I’m sorry,” …… but He is quick to say: “That’s okay.  Let’s try it again.” 
And, forgiven, I start over.
I am only a bit player in His Life, but He sometimes acts as if I am the most important part of the movie!!  And maybe in a way, I am:  If I totally flub up my life, don’t act well enough in the role created uniquely for me, well then the entire movie “could” be ruined.  The culmination of Jesus’ life, His death on the cross for me, won’t be nearly as wonderful a total story if my life, my role, makes it appear as if His death was in vain.  It’s kind of like a movie in which the Good Guy fights all the bad guys and the dragons and then climbs the mountains and does all these terribly hard things, all to rescue the damsel in distress, but when He finally gets to where the damsel is, she says “Go away!”  Good grief!  If that happened you’d think the movie is a dud.  The damsel’s bit part at the end of the movie would suddenly seem so very important.  That’s kind of like our role in the Movie of Jesus’ Life also.  We all play a bit part, but it’s important that we don’t screw it up.
That’s why Jesus says He will always be there with us.  It’s why He urges us to stay focused, on His life and how we fit into it, not on our life.  “Do not love the world,” He says (1Jn 2:15).  But at every moment, do what Love, His Love, demands.
The perfection of His Life, the perfection of our life, they blend together.  A perfect movie, a perfect plot, and a perfect ending:  heaven together.
If only we can do our part: what Love demands.

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

That's Where Jesus Is

Before the mass readings began, the priest called up the small children to the front of the altar; they were about to leave for a separate Children’s Liturgy of the Word.  Usually, Fr. Ed asks the children to “face Jesus in the tabernacle and genuflect,” before leaving the church proper.  But this Sunday was different.
He looked at the young children gathered before him and asked:  “Who knows what the tabernacle is?”  A small voice answered: “That’s where Jesus is.”  Fr Ed answered: “That’s right.”  Then he told the young toddlers: “Come on, follow me up here,” as he walked up the altar steps and around to behind the altar, in front of the tabernacle.  He paused there as the kids (and some parents) followed behind.  He smiled.  “They’re all kneeling,” he said softly to the people in the church who could not see.  “Parents, I’m proud of you,” he beamed.
He then proceeded to explain to the children a lesson on what the tabernacle was, how Jesus is in there, contained in the form of the host.  And then he asked: “Who’s looking forward to receiving their first communion next year?”   A number of hands were raised.  “And Jesus is looking forward to coming to you then too, but for now you’ll just go and listen to His words.”  And the he handed the Bible off to the leader of the children’s liturgy, who led them off to their own meeting room.
It was a pleasant start to the mass.
Last Sunday was the solemnity of Christ The King, a special feast day for Christ The King parish, in Ann Arbor, Michigan.  Naturally, Fr. Ed’s homily focused on that topic.  He mentioned the deadly sins, and especially pride, anger, and lust, as areas in which Satan holds sway over us.  He said that to make our lives into the image and likeness of Jesus, as we were created to be, we need to renounce Satan, as we did at Baptism, and make Christ the King of our lives.  That’s what is celebrated this day.  He is our King, and it is up to us to make that personal, to dedicate ourselves to Him.  To do this, we have lots of supports:  our parish family, the liturgy, and Jesus Himself in the Eucharist, always present in the tabernacle.
That’s where Jesus is.
Fr. Ed continued to talk and mentioned the movie and the book Heaven Is For Real.  Then ….
Well, in a day or so you can listen to his entire Sunday homily here:
It’s worth a listen.
                        - - - - - - - - - -
Happy Thanksgiving to all who might be glancing at this post.  I am in Arizona visiting my nieces and their children, and meeting Annie’s 6-year old twins for the first time.  They are adorable kids; I am so proud of Annie and her husband, Don.  They know how to raise children.
Tomorrow we’ll celebrate Annie’s birthday on Thanksgiving day, at Rose’s house with an army of friends and relatives.  I am so blessed, and I pray that you are also.

Saturday, November 22, 2014

It Can't Be About You

I had spent my time at the chapel meditating on Scripture, asking for clarity in whatever area the Spirit would have me see, but it was dark.  There was nothing.
I came home, perhaps a bit anxious to quickly get to sleep; I wished to rise in 3 hours for the weekly men’s Bible study early the next morning.  I turned back the covers, got into bed, pulled the light switch off and welcomed the darkness --- but in my mind it was light.  I was wide awake, and thoughts I had prayed for earlier came clearly into my mind.  They were clear and crisp, flowed, and wouldn’t go away.  My new prayer became:  “Peace!  I need some rest!” but it went unanswered.
I went to the library and picked up pen and paper, and got back into bed and began to write:

John the Baptist, at his birth he was destined to be the herald of the Christ’s coming.  He was to be the second most important man in history.  He was close to Jesus, if only by blood: he was family, earthly and spiritually.
Why did he have to die?  Why did Jesus let it happen?  Why didn’t Jesus console John the Baptist and remove any doubts he had?  If Jesus would abandon someone so close to Himself, what does that say of His loyalty to me, in my trials?
But John was not like me, just another man.  John was the pre-curser, the herald, AND the image.  He was a type of Christ.
We know of John’s miraculous birth; we know of Jesus’ miraculous birth.  John, older than Jesus by six months, was absent from Scripture until he is shown publically baptizing; Jesus was absent from Scripture until he is shown beginning His preaching.  John was arrested; Jesus was arrested.  John was killed by a reluctant Herod; Jesus was killed by a reluctant Pilate.   Both had to die --- for a reason.
Herod had made a public promise (Mt 14:7-9); as king he had to keep his promises --- to keep his power.  His respect and his power were the most important things to Herod.  In the immediate situation, John’s death wasn’t about John; it wasn’t even about Jesus.  It was about Herod.  Herod made it about Herod.  He had to keep himself important.  This event, it had to be about him.
Pilate didn’t believe Jesus had done anything worthy of death either.  He tried to appease the Jewish leaders by severely beating Jesus, by bartering for Him, and even proclaiming He had no right to kill this man who had done nothing deserving death.  But in the end, like Herod, Pilate feared the people.  He feared the loss of his power.  He washed his hands of the event, not wanting to take any blame which might be forthcoming --- but not wanting to take any immediate blame either.  In the immediate situation, Jesus’ death wasn’t about Jesus.  It was about Pilate.  Pilate made it about Pilate.  He had to keep himself important.  This event, it had to be about him.
Like the Jews in the Holocaust, the evil was not that they died, nor was it that John and Jesus died, we will all die; the evil was in the ones who killed them.  It was all about their desires, their sins, and their self-love for what they wanted.  Results cannot be evil; only actions can be evil.  When evil happens to you, it does not make you evil, but when evil happens to you, you have a decision to make:  you can accept the evil as something allowed by God for a reason you might not perceive --- trusting in God --- or you can rail against Him:  “I don’t deserve this; why are You letting this happen to me?”  Neither John nor Jesus railed against God the Father; they trusted in Him.
I was reminded about St. Ignatius’s rules about how to proceed in spiritual matters.  His Rule Number 4 is considered most important:  When spiritual desolation is enveloping you, make no decisions regarding your spiritual life.  Spiritual desolation is not willed upon us by God, but it is permitted.  It arises from some evil, or evil intent.  When evil is about you, influencing your thoughts, Ignatius notes, that that is not the time to be seeking to make new decisions about your spiritual life.  It is a time to renew your spiritual actions, and to trust in God.  This is not the time to focus on your woes and decide that YOU have to do something to change them; YOU have to make sure all is well with you.
For Herod and Pilate, each in a time of woe, his thought was about himself.  But we need to follow as John and Jesus did, and as Ignatius summarized:  When you are in a time of spiritual woe, your thought:  it can’t be about you.
A tree in the desert is totally focused on its survival and itself only, as it tries to hide from the burning sun.  It is desperate for shade and water.  But despite what it is feeling and perceiving about the desert around it, the tree cannot survive by itself.  This cannot be!!  What it is seeing is an illusion; it is something that cannot real.  Trees are not born and growing in deserts; they are in forests.  Trees cannot shade themselves; in the forest they shade one another, to survive, to survive together.  That is how we must be.  It cannot be about you alone; you are here to help others with your life, and they you.  Your focus cannot be yourself.
A God died to show this to you.  And in His death, as John’s, He trusted that there was a larger reason for His desolation.  He was not alone in His suffering.  Neither are you.  It was for a purpose.  So is yours.
Everything in the Bible is the inspired Word of God.  It is there for a reason; it is there to teach a truth.  In our life we may look at bad things casually and say: “shit happens.”  We may see no reason.  In the Bible bad things happen too, but ALWAYS for a reason, a lesson.  John did not die to teach us Jesus didn’t care about him.  Look deeper!  John did not waver in his belief in Jesus; he makes clear his belief in Mt 3:11-15, Jn 1:23-36, and Jn 3:24-36.  There are no contrary facts to these clear statements of belief, and trust.  In Lk 7:18-23 we see John sending his disciples to ask Jesus who He was.  But as the Catholic Encyclopedia (and many theologians) point out:  it was John’s disciples who didn’t understand, who questioned who Jesus was.  John sent them to see and understand for themselves.  And they did.
Unlike Lazarus and the others Jesus raised from the dead, or whose death was prevented, Jesus did not prevent John from dying.  He did not save his life.  That He would do later, when Jesus chose His own death.  It is then that He saved John, as He saved us.  John had a purpose for his life, and his death.  There is a reason.  John trusted; we need also to trust.
Like John and Jesus, our life is important.  We have a unique mission, a purpose for which we were born.  If we go through life burned by the events around us and think we are like the tree in the desert, alone with only ourselves to protect us, we are living an illusion.  That cannot be.  That is not how we were made.  That is not WHY we were made.  With his life, John taught us a lesson.  With His life, Jesus taught us a lesson.  With each and every parable Jesus told, and with each and every miracle He worked, Jesus SHOWED us a lesson:  This is how to live.  Your life cannot be about you.  It is about living in love, in love of God and in love of neighbor.  And you are not alone.  Even if every person in your life to date has abandoned you, you are not alone.  Your Father in heaven is there, and loves you. 
You can rest your eyes at night, and cease your worrying.
  I will never leave you alone.

I put down the pen and paper, and turned out the nightlight again.  And sleep came.  

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Review: The Hidden Power of Kindness

A Practical Handbook for Souls Who Dare
to Transform the World, One Deed at a Time
I remember some of the fairy tales mom used to read to me at bedtime.  Along with the story went the feeling of the warm covers and of mom nearby; they were good feelings.  Reading Lovasik’s The Hidden Power of Kindness brings to mind those memories.  It is a book which makes you comfortable, gives you warm feelings.
That’s not to say it is a fairy tale type story; it does give you pause at times.  While Mr. Lovasik describes what constitutes kind actions, he also notes what are unkind actions, and some of those make you look in the mirror.  He presents them in a kind way, but he makes no excuses for our sins.  While much of this book is a very comfortable read, you will find sections which will make you want to make excuses for your behavior.  He is truthful, yet kind, in explaining why you are mistaken.
The book has three sections, and their titles spoke volumes:  Develop a kind attitude; Learn to speak kindly; and Show your love in kind deeds.  There is also an appendix to the book which has the title:  How kind are you?  In it the author asks a series of questions of the reader, asking you to rate yourself in kindness.  I think perhaps some people should use that section as a prelude to Confession.
I found this book a very worthwhile read, perhaps even a book to be read by the family together.  I did underline a number of points in the book, but unlike most of my underlines in books, there were not sections or paragraphs underlined --- good explanations I wanted to remember --- but rather I have underlined a number of sentences.  Lovasik keeps it simple.  Here are some:
·         Kindness springs from the soul of a man; it makes life more endurable.
·         The selfish man knows no rest … compelled to strive for more … lives in anxiety.
·         The ability to find fault is believed by some people to be a sure sign of wisdom, but nothing requires so little intelligence. … Borrow your neighbor’s glasses sometime.  See yourself as others see you.
·         If you feel aversion to a person … it is the most dangerous time to form a proper opinion of him.
·         Love does not insist on its own way.  (Cf 1Cor 13:5)
·         You probably have the tendency to express impatience over the small faults of those around you. … Irritability is immaturity of character.
·         Instead of condemning people, try to understand them.  … be understanding and forgiving.  Since God does not propose to judge man until the end of his days, why should you?
·         If you must find fault, begin with praise.
·         It is not he who possesses much who is rich, but he who gives away much.
·         The reward for love is an eternity in which to live, to love, and to rejoice in love’s activities.  Love never ends.  (1Cor 13:8)
Life is short, and we must all give an account of on the Day of Judgment.  I am in earnest about using the time allotted to me by God on this earth to the best advantage in carrying out the ideal of my life – to make God more known and loved through my writings.  --- Lawrence G. Lovasik (1913-1986)