Signature Dish

Balancing obedience and faith with St. Paul

10/14/2019

Romans 1:1-7 Paul, a slave of Christ Jesus, called to be an Apostle and set apart for the Gospel of God, which he promised previously through his prophets in the holy Scriptures, the Gospel about his Son, descended from David according to the flesh, but established as Son of God in power according to the Spirit of holiness through resurrection from the dead, Jesus Christ our Lord. Through him we have received the grace of apostleship, to bring about the obedience of faith, for the sake of his name, among all the Gentiles, among whom are you also, who are called to belong to Jesus Christ; to all the beloved of God in Rome, called to be holy. Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Of the thirteen letters or epistles penned by St. Paul in the New Testament, arguably his crowning achievement is the Letter to the Romans. You know how people who enjoy cooking often have a “signature dish” which they always bring to potlucks because in that casserole or coconut cream pie all their culinary skills shine brightly? So, too, we might call the Epistle to the Romans St. Paul’s signature dish where all his skills as both apostle and evangelist are performing at their peak. No wonder, then, the Church invites us to feast on this great letter for almost a month: from October 14 (today) until November 8, with a few breaks for special celebrations like All Saints and All Souls. Folks, get out your best china, polish your grandma’s cutlery, and go ahead and use the cloth napkins instead of paper, for this feast of faith called the Epistle to the Romans.

Our first reading today only consists of the first seven verses of Romans chapter one, but it is already more than we can digest at one sitting. Let me say a word about one phrase that is extremely juicy and rich, namely, where St. Paul says, “the obedience of faith.” Paul employs that pregnant phrase at two critical junctures in his letter, at the beginning in 1:5, and at the end in 16:26. Think of the phrase, “obedience of faith,” like bookends to this great letter, both highlighting the central theme at the beginning and at the end. That reminds me of Bob Hope’s classic definition of a good sermon. He said: “A good sermon should have a great beginning and a great end, and the two should be as close together as possible.” Well, Paul certainly started and ended great, but he also included sixteen great chapters in between those two bookends.

The phrase “obedience of faith” beautifully balances the two sides of a healthy Christian life, namely, faith and works. When Paul writes the phrase “obedience of faith,” he makes it clear we are saved by faith in Christ Jesus. But he also adds that we must also do our part, we must obey Christ, we must have some skin in the game. In other words, we cannot sing and praise God on Sunday at Mass, full of faith, and then the rest of the week act like pagans. You remember what the acronym P.A.G.A.N. stands for, don’t you? The old television series “Dragnet” taught us it means “People Against Goodness And Normalcy.” In a sense, you could say “faith” is the Sunday part of Christianity while “obedience” to the Ten Commandments is the Monday through Saturday part of Christianity. Of course, you need faith and obedience everyday.

Today, ask yourself which side of that delicate balance of “obedience of faith” you tend to lean toward, or even use as a crutch. If we lean too far toward faith we can become lackadaisical and lazy in our Christian walk. We exaggerate how much God loves us, that he is merciful, and in the end we are all going to heaven. That attitude is actually the sin called “presumption,” where we presume upon God’s goodness and mercy and make no personal effort or sacrifice.

On the other hand, we can go too far toward “obedience” and become spiritual workaholics. We believe that what ultimately counts for salvation are our spiritual exercises and acts of piety. So we go through a lot of motions of holiness – we pray rosaries, novenas, attend Adoration, Masses, etc. – but without a lot of heart, without a lot of faith. That’s actually a heresy called Pelagianism which emphasized works to the detriment of faith. And by the way, I believe we are always swinging between these two poles, sometimes over-emphasizing faith and other times our own human effort.

It was precisely Martin Luther’s inability to find the delicate balance between both faith and obedience than led him to launch the Protestant Reformation. In a sense, St. Paul’s main concern in the sixteen chapters of Romans is to help us strike that beautiful balance. Keep that in mind as you enjoy every tasty morsel of St. Paul’s signature dish.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Freshness of Faith

Seeing through younger eyes of faith

10/13/2019

Luke 17:11-19 As Jesus continued his journey to Jerusalem, he traveled through Samaria and Galilee. As he was entering a village, ten lepers met him. They stood at a distance from him and raised their voices, saying, "Jesus, Master! Have pity on us!" And when he saw them, he said, "Go show yourselves to the priests." As they were going they were cleansed. And one of them, realizing he had been healed, returned, glorifying God in a loud voice; and he fell at the feet of Jesus and thanked him. He was a Samaritan. Jesus said in reply, "Ten were cleansed, were they not? Where are the other nine? Has none but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God?" Then he said to him, "Stand up and go; your faith has saved you."

It always helps to look at things from a new perspective, from a different angle, through another person’s eyes. And a good joke often does exactly that: it gives us an unexpected and humorous way to see something, and it’s refreshing. I came across this joke recently. A Jesuit, a Dominican, and a Franciscan were walking along an old road, debating the greatness of their respective orders. Each insisting theirs was greater than the others. Suddenly, an apparition of the Holy Family appeared in front of them, with Jesus in a manger and Mary and Joseph praying over him. The Franciscan fell on his face, overcome with awe at the sight of God born in such poverty. The Dominican fell to his knees, adoring the beautiful reflection of the Holy Trinity embodied in the three persons of the Holy Family. The Jesuit walked up to Joseph, put his arms around his shoulder, and asked, “So, have you thought about where to send him to school?”

As you probably know Jesuits are famous for their schools of higher learning, like Georgetown, Boston College, Fordham, and Gonzaga, not to mention all the schools that have “Loyola” in their name. I share that joke about Jesuit schools because their ultimate goal is as an educational institution is to give students a new perspective namely, to see with the eyes of faith. Faith is really the highest kind of higher learning. Jesus said in Revelation 21:5, “Behold, I make all things new.” The perspective of faith is always fresh, unexpected, and therefore, heaven will never be old or boring but new and exciting. I also share that joke because I am sort of standing in the shoes of that Jesuit and am here to ask you the same question he posed to St. Joseph: “So, have you thought about where to send your child to school?” I would highly suggest sending your children to Trinity Junior High, as many of you already do. Thank you!

In the gospel today, we see another way to catch a different perspective, that is, through the eyes of foreigners or strangers, what natural born citizens often miss. Jesus is walking through Samaritan territory on his way from Galilee (which is in the north of Israel) to Judea (which is in the south of Israel). Ten lepers approach our Lord and beg him to heal them. They are all cleansed but only the Samaritan returns to say thanks. Jesus must have felt a deep pang of disappointment when he asked: “Ten were cleansed, were they not? Where are the other nine? Has none but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God?” Presumably, the other nine were Jews who had been healed and maybe even expected a miracle from their Messiah. God is supposed to heal his chosen people. Archbishop Fulton Sheen said very insightfully: “Jewelers get used to seeing fine diamonds,” and not only Jews but Christians can get used to the treasure of our faith and take it for granted. Sometimes, it takes a foreigner who comes to the faith later in life – a convert to Catholicism instead of a cradle Catholic – to open our eyes to the great gift sitting in our laps. We all need to see things with new eyes, especially with the eyes of faith that “makes all things new.”

Thank you for letting me celebrate the weekend Masses here at Jenny Lind and Barling and talk about Trinity and take up a second collection. One of the things I love about Catholic schools is how the students help me see with new eyes. At a recently school Mass at an elementary school, not Trinity, I heard this story. One of our first graders was at Mass and the homily was a little long and beyond his comprehension. Suddenly, he noticed the red lamp in the sanctuary next to the tabernacle. He was mesmerized by the warm, red glow and couldn’t take his eyes off it. He suddenly tugged his father’s sleeve and asked, “Daddy, when the light turns green, can we go?” See how a change of perspective can refresh our tired faith? Don’t expect the light to turn green anytime soon.

At the junior high level, our students surprise me with their questions about faith and morality and Christian living. They want clear and cogent answers to their tough questions about same-sex marriage, why euthanasia and abortion are wrong, is vaping and tattooing immoral, how to love and respect their parents while developing their own ideas and independence, how to hear God’s voice in this loud and proud world, and what is the ultimate meaning of their life or is there any meaning? No wonder the teen suicide rate continues to climb. They are not satisfied with the answers I learned in the seminary 25 years ago, before there were even smart phones or I-pads. They are searching for new answers to their new questions.

Jesus even told us such situations would arise in Mt. 9:17, teaching: “People do not put new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the skins burst, the wine spills out and the skins are ruined. Rather, they put new wine into fresh wineskins, and both are preserved.” Our junior high students help me to see with new eyes, because their questions are like new wine that demand I provide them with answers that are like new wineskins. And that renews and refreshes my own faith because I begin to see through their eyes. Hopefully, they are not drinking any of that wine; but they are drinking of the kool-aid of the unchristian culture in which they live.

My friends, how does your faith feel these days? Has your spiritual eyesight grown tired or weary or dim or even dark? Maybe you need to hear a good joke about the Jesuits, or pray for a miracle of healing like the lepers, or talk to a recent convert to Catholicism, or help Catholic school students with bright young eyes full of faith. When you do those things you see things from a new angle, a different perspective and see through the ever-young eyes of faith. You feel what Isaiah prophesied at the beginning of his Book of Consolation, saying: “They that hope in the LORD will renew their strength, they will soar on eagles’ wings; They will run and not grow weary, walk and not grow faint” (Is. 40:31). That feeling of soaring on eagle’s wings is the freshness of faith.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Perfect Prayer

Loving and living the Lord’s Prayer

10/09/19

Luke 11:1-4 Jesus was praying in a certain place, and when he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, "Lord, teach us to pray just as John taught his disciples." He said to them, "When you pray, say: Father, hallowed be your name, your Kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread and forgive us our sins for we ourselves forgive everyone in debt to us, and do not subject us to the final test."

I love it when our daily Mass readings bring up the Our Father, or the Lord’s Prayer, as it is sometimes called. Jesus’ perfect prayer provides a fountain of meditation from which thirsty Christians – you and me – can drink deeply. The Lord’s Prayer can be found in both Mt. 6 and in today’s gospel from Luke 11. The prayer is at once both concise and pithy but also comprehensive and profound, a kind of Reader’s Digest compendium of Christianity. If you’d like a longer reflection on the Our Father, I highly recommend St. Teresa of Avila’s book The Way of Perfection, or more recently, Pope Benedict XVI’s book Jesus of Nazareth, both of which contain oceans of wisdom to go deep sea diving and find precious treasure.

Let me just make two quick points about this perfect prayer: one is “apologetic” but not in the sense of an apology. An “apologia” comes from Greek and means a defense, so this is a defense of the Catholic versus the Protestant versions of this prayer. The second comment concerns the hardest part of the prayer, forgiveness of others.

First, the apologia or defense of the Catholic version of the Lord’s Prayer. You may notice when we pray the Lord’s Prayer at a wedding or a funeral Mass, our Protestant brothers and sister add a conclusion to the Our Father called the “doxology,” namely, “for thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, forever and ever. Amen.” Why do Catholics exclude that and Protestants include that in the perfect prayer? Put differently, which version is more “perfect”? The debate boils down to different versions of the bible and an argument over which manuscripts of the bible are the oldest and therefore most authentic. Incidentally, there are no original books of the bible in existence, only copies of copies of copies, called “manuscripts.”

There would be no need for debate if Jesus and his apostles were walking around Galilee with a copy of the King James Bible. As one Protestant friend joked: “If the King James Version was good enough for Jesus, it’s good enough for me.” The KJV didn’t get published until 1611 under King James VI and I of England and Scotland. The earliest and most authentic manuscripts, called the Codex Vaticanus and Codex Sinaiticus, do not include the doxology in the Lord’s Prayer. So, Catholics stand on solid scriptural grounds when we exclude it from our translations of the Bible. But just to cover our bets, we make sure to include the doxology at the Mass, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. If you’d like to learn more about the origin and evolution of the bible – critical for every Catholic – please attend the study on the Gospel of Mark I’m facilitating where we will go into greater detail. Don’t worry, we will finish before Monday night Bingo. Bible and Bingo, what could be more Catholic than that?

Secondly, a more spiritual point. The Lord’s Prayer contains seven petitions or things we ask for from God. But I believe by far the hardest petition concerns forgiveness of others. We pray: “Forgive us our sins for we ourselves forgive everyone in debt to us.” And here’s the hard part: sometimes it’s easy to forgive, and sometimes it’s not only hard, but superhuman to forgive. It’s easy to forgive when a child who’s playing baseball in his backyard accidentally hits the ball through my window. He apologies and I forgive him. That’s irritating but not impossible.

Once a month, however, I travel to Little Rock to work at the marriage tribunal with annulments for people who are divorced and remarried. If you think forgiveness is easy, I would love to introduce you to hundreds of ex-spouses who find forgiveness not just hard but impossible, superhuman, beyond human. Their testimonies come from hurting hearts, and they are trying to find peace by casting blame and derision on their former spouse. And in a sense, I don’t blame them; the hurt must go unimaginably deep. But the only hope for finding real and lasting peace is the path of forgiveness.

Where do we find the grace to do what is beyond our human capacity? We pray, we pray the perfect prayer Jesus taught us so we can be a little more perfect ourselves. We say: “Forgive us our sins for we ourselves forgive everyone in debt to us.” The Our Father, in other words, is the perfect prayer because it helps us to be little more perfect and forgive like Jesus forgave those Roman soldiers who crucified him.

As we pray the Lord’s Prayer today at Mass, let us pray for our Protestant brothers and sisters, and for greater Christian unity. Let us pray also for those who struggle to forgive, especially those working on annulments, and of course, ourselves.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Simple as Doves

Bringing peace to the people around us

10/08/2019

Jonah 3:1-10 The word of the LORD came to Jonah a second time: "Set out for the great city of Nineveh, and announce to it the message that I will tell you." So Jonah made ready and went to Nineveh, according to the LORD's bidding. Now Nineveh was an enormously large city; it took three days to go through it. Jonah began his journey through the city, and had gone but a single day's walk announcing, "Forty days more and Nineveh shall be destroyed," when the people of Nineveh believed God; they proclaimed a fast and all of them, great and small, put on sackcloth.

Most people are familiar with the Old

Testament story of the reluctant prophet named Jonah. We recall from our children’s Bible books about how Jonah tried to flee from God’s call as s stowaway on a ship, how he was swallowed but also saved by a whale (it was Moby Dick), and finally had remarkable success preaching repentance in Nineveh, the capital city of one of Israel’s most feared enemies, the Assyrians. The Assyrians annihilated the Northern Kingdom of Israel in 722 B.C. and scattered the Israelites all over the world in the “diaspora.” In one day of preaching Jonah converted the whole city of Nineveh, in six years of preaching I haven’t converted five people in Fort Smith. There are prophets and then there are prophets.

Most people do not know, however, that Jonah’s name means “Dove.” Just like a dove symbolizes peace, so Jonah takes God’s peace to other peoples, even foreign peoples. I would like to reference three other instances in the bible where doves are specifically mentioned and draw out some practical conclusions for us. The fist reference is found in Genesis 8, where Noah has been in the Ark for a long time and sends out a dove three times. The first time the dove returns empty-beaked, the second time he returns with an olive branch, and the third time, he does not return at all. The dove, like the symbolic rainbow in Genesis 9, promised peace between God and humanity. Like Jonah, so Noah brought God’s peace to the world after the devastating flood.

The second instance of the dove occurs at the baptism of Jesus at the Jordan River by St. John the Baptist. We read in Mt. 3:16: “After Jesus was baptized, he came up from the water and behold, the heavens were opened for him, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming upon him.” In other words, Jesus does not just bring God’s peace, he is God’s peace in the flesh. All who are joined to Jesus’s Flesh through Holy Communion likewise enjoy his peace. And in case you missed the Jesus-Jonah connection, Jesus makes it even more apparent in Mt. 12:39: “An evil and adulterous generation craves a sign. Yet not sign will be given it except the sign of Jonah.” Jesus makes it crystal clear he is the new Jonah, the new Dove, with the olive branch of peace in his mouth.

The third instance of the dove that is worth noting can be found in Mt. 10:16, where Jesus sends his apostles out to preach and share his peace. What symbolic image (among others) does he give them for their ministry? He says: “Behold, I am sending you like sheep in the midst of wolves; so be shrewd as serpents and simple as doves.” The mission and ministry of the apostles, indeed of the whole Church, like that of Noah, and Jonah, and Jesus, is to bring God’s peace to a troubled world.

I hope you can already see the practical application of this reflection to our daily lives. Do we bring peace to the people around us? This is a lesson I am having to learn over and over again, as I realize that my words, my actions, and even my facial expressions have not always brought peace, but rather anxiety, fear or even revulsion to others. Sadly, I sometimes overemphasize the “shrewd as serpents” part of ministry and almost forget about the “simple as dove” part. Maybe that’s one reason why the preaching of Jonah, the Dove, in Nineveh was far more effective than my preaching in Fort Smith.

As you go throughout your day and run into various and sundry people, ask yourself: did I bring peace into that person’s life by a word, or a gesture, or by a look? Make peace your priority as you live your Christian life, and as you read the book of Jonah, the Dove.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Call Mom

Praying the rosary for our brothers and sisters

10/07/2019

Acts of Apostles 1:12-14 After Jesus had been taken up into heaven, the Apostles returned to Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is near Jerusalem, a sabbath day's journey away. When they entered the city they went to the upper room where they were staying, Peter and John and James and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James son of Alphaeus, Simon the Zealot, and Judas son of James. All these devoted themselves with one accord to prayer, together with some women, and Mary the mother of Jesus, and his brothers.

A funny thing happens every time I call my parents in Little Rock. Do you know who invariably answers the phone? I’ll give you one guess. It’s my mom. Is that just me, or does that happen to every household: the phone rings and the woman runs to answer the phone. I’m sorry if that sounds a little sexist, but it’s kind of true. And after talking to mom for ten or fifteen minutes she hands the phone to dad, who usually complains that he has nothing to add because mom already told me all the news! Can anyone else see a rather simple solution to my dad’s dilemma? Answer the phone first.

But as I visit with my mom she eventually asks the dreaded question: when was the last time I talked to my brother or sister? A pang of guilt shoots through my heart, when I have to confess it’s been days, maybe even weeks, since I texted or talked to them. I am sure a pang of hurt shoots through my mom’s heart when she hears my answer. Perhaps the only thing a parent desires more than their child’s individual happiness is their collective happiness, that is, that they love each other and take care of each other. Behind every question my mom asks about how well I am doing looms the other question – are you loving your brother and sister?

Today’s first reading is taken from a very significant spot in the first chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. Jesus has ascended into heaven and the apostles gather with Mary, Jesus’ mother, in the upper room to pray. You might recall at the crucifixion that Jesus entrusted his mother Mary to John, the beloved disciple, which is to say to all of us, who are Jesus’ beloved disciples. Consequently, she is not just Jesus’ mother, or John’s spiritual mother, but she’s the mother of all of us, Jesus’ little brothers and sisters.

What results from prayer in union with Mary in the Upper Room? The following verses (which we did not read unfortunately), verses 15-26, describe the desire of Peter and the others to replace Judas, inspired by Mary. They elect Matthias by drawing lots, an answer to Mary’s prayers. In other words, Mary, like every good mother, not only cares about the happiness of the individual apostles, but also about the “college of apostles,” and completing their highly symbolic number at twelve. Mary cares deeply about the happiness and the holiness of the whole family of God, that brothers and sisters love each other.

October 7th every year is the feast of the Holy Rosary, and it is by far my favorite devotion to Mary. I try to pray the rosary daily. Spiritually-speaking, I look at the rosary as a chain that helps me hang on to Mother Mary and my heavenly destiny. Don’t let go of the rosary! The rosary guides my steps on earth because it teaches me how to walk in the footsteps of Jesus and Mary as I meditate on the mysteries of their holy lives and even their holy deaths – that is, Jesus’ death and Mary’s dormition.

But I also look at the rosary like a phone I can use to call Mother Mary. The rosary is my spiritual cell phone and my plan is “unlimited everything” (as people say). I love praying the rosary every day because it makes me feel like I am connecting with my spiritual mother, Mary. Just like my mom, Mary runs to pick up the phone and chat with me, and she runs faster than all the other saints combined. She is deeply interested in how I am doing, my happiness and my holiness.

But when I stop talking and start listening to Mary’s voice, I hear that dreaded question, almost the exact same question my mom in Little Rock asks me: when was the last time you talked to your brothers and sisters? In other words, how am I loving my neighbor, my brother and sister in Christ? And again, a pang of guilt shoots through my heart when I remember all the people I fail to love as I should. I am sure that doesn’t make Mother Mary feel great either.

On this feast of the Rosary, perhaps we can at least pray for the people we need to love a little more. And since charity begins at home, perhaps we should start by calling or texting our own natural siblings. That will make both moms smile, and get rid of that pang I feel in my heart.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

In God's Arms

Learning to be loved by the Father

10/06/2019

Luke 17:5-10 The apostles said to the Lord, "Increase our faith." The Lord replied, "If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you would say to this mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it would obey you. "Who among you would say to your servant who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, 'Come here immediately and take your place at table'? Would he not rather say to him, 'Prepare something for me to eat. Put on your apron and wait on me while I eat and drink. You may eat and drink when I am finished'? Is he grateful to that servant because he did what was commanded? So should it be with you. When you have done all you have been commanded, say, 'We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.'"

Many years ago I heard a story by Scott Hahn that completely changed my mind about the omnipotence of God and my own impotence. It was a sort of Copernican Revolution about how powerful God is and how powerless I am, putting God in the center of the universe instead of me. Hahn went for a jog around his neighborhood one afternoon and his custom was to do several laps around a few blocks. As a result, he ended up running by the same house two or three times. As he passed one house, he noticed a father outside mowing his front yard. But he was being hampered and harassed by his four year-old son. The little boy was pushing his own toy lawn mower and he was pretending to mow the grass: like father, like son. Hahn could tell the little boy was really exasperating his father, and wondered how the dad would deal with the dilemma.

Fifteen minutes later as he passed the house again, he saw the father’s solution: the man had picked up his son and was holding him in his right arm. With his left arm the man was pushing the mower. His son, meanwhile, had both his little hands on the mower and the biggest smile stretched across his beaming face. I’ll give you one guess why the toddler was so happy. The little guy thought he was actually mowing the yard himself! In that simple snapshot of the prudent father and the precocious son, Hahn saw a marvelous metaphor for our relationship with God, namely, our utter dependence on him. We are the son in the arms of the Father. In other words, no matter how old we get, we never stop being that little boy held in the arms of God, carried through life by him. Anything we think we are accomplishing – earning our doctorates, writing books, making millions of dollars, etc. – is nothing more than the mistaken joy of the little boy who thought he mowed the yard. God does all the work, and we foolishly try to take all the credit.

Jesus tells a parable in the gospel today that emphasizes that anything good we do – from beginning to end – is God’s work primarily, and we should be careful not to take too much credit. He asks: “Who among you would say to your servant who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here immediately and take your place at table’.” That would be equivalent to saying to the four year-old held in the arms of his father: “Amazing job mowing the yard today, little buddy! You must be exhausted from all that hard work. Please come inside and let me pour you a tall glass of cold chocolate milk (the recovery drink). Put your poor feet up and watch some cartoons. You really earned it!” On the other hand, Jesus goes on to clarify that the right attitude should sound more like this: “Say, ‘We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do’.” That is, we just did what dad told us to do: sit still, hold the handle bar, and enjoy the ride. The Father does all the hard work, and we should not try to take all the credit.

Let me suggest three ways we can apply this principle of God’s omnipotence and our impotence in our daily lives. First of all, this should help us overcome jealousy or envy or others. We sometimes feel jealous of others when we think they have something or have achieved something we wanted. My co-worker got the promotion I was working on. Fr. Martin was made a bishop and not me. And this problem is especially pernicious in families called “sibling rivalry.” But if all I accomplish is really thanks to God’s grace, and all you achieve is the same, then what is there to be jealous about? You think you’re mowing the grass, but you’re not; I think I’m mowing the grass but I’m not. Only God is mowing the grass. We are feeling jealous over a figment of our imagination.

Secondly, this principle of God’s power should inspire a profound humility. Humility comes from the Latin word “humus” meaning earth. Humility, therefore, is being down to earth. St. Paul asks the Corinthians: “What do you have that you did not receive? And if you have received it, why do you boast as though you did not?” (1 Cor. 4:7). If that little toddler was going around the neighborhood boasting of mowing the grass, all the neighbors would smile politely and congratulate him, but they’d know it’s just the exuberance of a little boy. Of course, there’s a healthy sense of pride we can feel in our accomplishments, a healthy sense of self-esteem, and dignity and worth. Those are all good things. But the more and more we mature in the Christian life, I am convinced the more and more we realize how God’s arms have sustained us, and how his grace has made possible anything good we ever said or did.

Thirdly, what is the consequence of feeling no jealousy of others, coupled with a profound sense of humility? We spontaneously give God all the glory. We can’t take the glory, and we can’t give others the glory, so we give it to God. In the Old Testament book of Job, the wise man declares: “Naked I came forth from my mother’s womb, and naked I will depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord!” (Job 1:21). In other words, no matter what happens in our life: richer or poor, sickness or health, better or worse, give God the glory. When we see all we have and are were gifts from God and one day we will give them back to him, we take the first step of wisdom. God is clothed in glory and we are naked.

Here’s the take-home message of what God’s omnipotence and our impotence means: God loves us more than we can imagine, and our job is to let him love us. God’s powerful arms carry us throughout life. Our response to his love is not to jump out of his hands, but unfortunately, toddlers often do.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Picture Paradise

Spending eternity doing good on earth

10/01/2019

Matthew 18:1-4 The disciples approached Jesus and said, "Who is the greatest in the Kingdom of heaven?" He called a child over, placed it in their midst, and said, "Amen, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the Kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the Kingdom of heaven."

Do you spend much time thinking about heaven? Probably the older we get the more we ponder it because we feel we stand on the threshold of eternity, and any minute, someone may shove us into the house of heaven. We wonder what’s on the inside. When we try to picture paradise, most people probably think of a Sandals Resort commercial. We’re sitting on a sun-drenched beach, we have super-model bodies, and our favorite drink in hand, being waiting on hand and foot, and without a care in the world.

Now, that’s not a bad picture, but our faith offers us a much better picture, namely, the Beatific Vision. What is the Beatific Vision? Put simply, it is seeing God face to face and experiencing eternal beatitude, which is both blessing and happiness combined. If you are a mother or father, imagine how you felt looking into the face of your newborn baby. Didn’t you want to stay there forever and freeze that moment eternally? Now, multiply that feeling of joy and peace by a billion, and you’re starting to get close to the Beatific Vision. That’s what all the saints up and down the centuries have longed for: to get to heaven and behold God’s Face, the Beatific Vision.

Today is the Feast of St. Therese of Lisieux, also known as St. Therese of the Child Jesus, also known as “the Little Flower,” also known as the patron saint of missionaries, also known as a “doctor of the Church.” But when she entered the Carmelite convent in France at the age of 15, do you know what name she took as a professed religion nun? She took the rather lengthy name of “Sr. Therese of the Child Jesus and the Holy Face.” In other words, St. Therese wanted to start contemplating the Beatific Vision, as much as humanly possible, while still here on earth. And she could see the Holy Face of God in her family, and in her sisters in the Carmelite convent, and even in her sufferings as she lie dying of tuberculosis at the age of 24. St. Therese of Lisieux’s picture of paradise was not being pampered with a full-body massage at a Sandals Resort but rather seeing the Beatific Vision, and she got to glimpse it even before she got to heaven.

One of St. Therese’s most famous dictums, or sayings, was she promised: “When I get to heaven, I will spend my eternity doing good on earth.” That is the net effect of the Beatific Vision: it makes you explode with love not only for God, but also for others. In other words, when you get to heaven, you don’t just forget all your family and friends, you won’t even forget your foes or your enemies on earth. On the contrary, you will love them even more perfectly than you ever could on while you were alive on earth, that is, free from all selfishness, jealousy, pride, ego, vanity and lust. The Church calls that perfect love of neighbor we experience in eternity by this great phrase: the Communion of Saints. The Communion of Saints is nothing other than the perfect fulfillment of the commandment to love your neighbor.

Do you know what was one of the “good things” that St. Therese did after she got to heaven? She inspired Pope Francis in 2015 to canonize her parents, Louis Martin and Marie Azelie Guerin as saints. That was the first time in the history of the Church that a pope has canonized spouses as a married couple at the same time. Canonization means St. Therese’s parents are in heaven, and all three – parents and daughter – are staring at the Face of God, the Beatific Vision.

How do you picture paradise? Sitting on a sandy beach with a Piña Colada in your hand, enjoying an eternal retirement? Or, as the Beatific Vision, beholding God Face to face, like staring into the face of your beautiful baby sleeping in your arms? How we think about heaven makes a big difference in how we live on earth. It will also make a big difference how we live in heaven.

Praised be Jesus Christ!