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Archive for October, 2022

Who I Am, Meet Who I Want to Be

Posted in Reflections on Scripture, tagged , , , , on October 28, 2022| Leave a Comment »

Photo by Joeyy Lee on Unsplash

The one who serves God willingly is heard.

Sirach 35:16

Uh oh.

I almost never serve God entirely willingly. Starting to draft this post is a drag. The thought of going back to watching a baking competition is much more pleasant than the thought of having to come up with my own content. Yet I always enjoy having written here, and the thought that someone else might be encouraged by something I’ve written keeps me coming back.

Too often when I’m at church, my mind isn’t there with my body. My mind is either on a hamster wheel of anxiety or wandering in a daydream. I’m most inclined to pray alone, outside, and in my own words—the fewer the better.

Yet I recognize that while some moments of practicing faith can and should be solitary, faith isn’t living if it’s not a group activity as well as an individual one. Liturgies and formal prayers are part of that group activity. The more fully I engage in such group activities, with their ancient, traditional prayers, the more they have the power to put the movements of my heart, mind, and will into perspective and to unite them to the mind, heart, and will of Christ. To the extent that we all experience this transformation into communion, we’re united to each other. This communion spanning time and space and joining God and creation is what liturgy offers, Showing up for it each week is part of my commitment each week to wrestle with getting out of my own head.

Do I think God doesn’t hear my prayers because I struggle with being present in the moment and with choosing to participate in life? No. God doesn’t need me to pray. Prayer is for my benefit and for the benefit of all creation. The more space I have in my mind, my heart, and my will for this benefit, the better I’ll able to receive it and the more good it can do me and the world around me. This is what the verse from Sirach means to me.

But I’m far from being able to fully receive this benefit — and not just because my faith often isn’t as alive as it might appear. I don’t feel as courageous as friends seem to think I am. My default approach to life is not to rock the proverbial boat, not to bring disapproval on myself, and not to disrupt my routines — because disruption triggers anxiety. My default approach is to follow my inclinations. I don’t write this blog because my faith, hope, and love are mature. I write this blog because I want these virtues and others to mature in me.

I constantly fall into the trap of comparing myself to others. I either focus on how my life doesn’t measure up to theirs or how their lives fall short of the ideals I wish we both lived up to. This tendency toward comparison makes me sinful and unwise, and it steals my joy, the very joy God brought me into being to share. And for that reason, the prayer of the tax collector in Luke 18:13 is also my own: “O God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”

Confraternity of Christian Doctrine, Inc. “Sunday July, 2 2023: Readings at Mass.” The New American Bible, 2001. Universalis for Windows, Version 2.179, Universalis Publishing Ltd., 26 Feb. 2023, https://universalis.com/n-app-windows.htm

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Defending Against Discouragement

Posted in Reflections on Scripture, tagged , , , , on October 19, 2022| Leave a Comment »

Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

The Old Testament and New Testament readings from this weekend offer reassurance for those times when we face helplessness, hostility, injustice, despair, and discouragement.

In Exodus 17:8-13, Moses, by himself, can’t send the army attacking his people into retreat. He can pray, but even that gets hard to do without stopping. That’s why God works through relationships, so others can support us when the balloons of our faith, which are inflated with persistence, deflate. In Exodus 17:12-13, support takes the form of Aaron and Hur holding up Moses’ arms whenever they grow fatigued from being extended in prayer.

The next time I’m the person whose balloon of faith is deflated, I’ll take comfort in Luke 18:1-8. It tells me that just making a habit of talking to God will open me to closer union with God, to doing God’s will, and to receiving God’s gifts. Even when the balloon of with my faith is no larger than a mustard seed, when my faith is more about being consistent than about growing in love, it has the power to shape me for the better, little by little, like a creek carving a canyon. Even when my faith is far from bottomless and my love far from unselfish, both virtues can sculpt me into my best self. They’ll grow in me — as long as I don’t give up on them.

Work cited

The Bible. The New American Bible Revised Edition, Kindle edition, Fairbrother, 2011.

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A Relatable Healing

Posted in Reflections on Scripture, tagged , , , on October 12, 2022| Leave a Comment »

Photo by Marcos Paulo Prado on Unsplash

Last week, I wrestled with what Jesus in Luke said faith was and wasn’t. Picking up where I left off in Luke, this week I see what faith — even faith the size of a mustard seed — looks like in action. I also get glimpses of what having even more faith can do.

In Luke 17:11, I read that Jesus is journeying through Samaria and Galilee on his way to Jerusalem. This man Jesus is totally open to the will of his Father. That’s one way I would define faith — openness to the will of God that, when unobstructed, means union with God. This faith leads Jesus into the less-than-friendly territory of Samaria. Later, it will lead him to suffer and die and return to life, never to die again.

In verse twelve, faith allows him to hear pleas for help — pleas from people his culture has teaches him he needs to stay away from so that they don’t make him unclean and ostracize him, too. Faith leads Jesus to cross geopolitical, cultural, and spiritual borders. Faith leads Jesus to put the needs of others ahead of his own security and convenience.

Faith — perhaps closer to the size of a mustard seed — leads ten ill people to call out to Jesus for help — even if only from a distance, in deference to the human laws they’ve been compelled to obey.

Jesus responds differently than he does in other stories of healing. He doesn’t heal by touch. The passage suggests the people he heals aren’t even healed in his presence. They’re “cleansed” on their way to “show themselves to the priests” (Luke 17:14). This part of the story offers a number of lessons:

  1. God isn’t limited by laws and rules such as the ones first-century people were subject to regarding what we would today call Hansen’s Disease. Yet in this story, God works in the midst of those codes. God still usually works within certain scientific laws, and Divine Goodness can be recognized within any prudent and just regulations we establish today.
  2. Cleansing and healing often don’t happen suddenly but as we are continuing about our business.

After we read about Jesus’ instructions to the group of ten, we learned that one of them “realiz[ed” he had been healed [and] returned, glorifying God in a loud voice, [falling] at the feet of Jesus and [thanking] him” (Luke 17:15-16). When I first heard these verses this week, I interpreted them the way I usually hear other people interpret them. I understood them to say that the whole group realized they were healed, but only one person came back to praise God and thank Jesus.

But now I’m wondering if only one of them even realized he was healed. It would be strange if someone didn’t realize he or she was healed of Hansen’s Disease. However, I find it relatable that someone can experience another kind of healing or another gift and not realize she’s received it for a long time or ever. And I know what it’s like to wait and wait for solution to a problem, only to go on about my business without appreciation or gratitude until I encounter another difficulty that I want smoothed over. So maybe the one who came back was both the only one to realize what he had received and the only one who offered thanks for it in Jesus’ presence.

In response to the man’s gratitude, Jesus wonders out loud where the other nine are (Luke 17:17). That’s a relatable response, too. Who, after helping ten people and being thanked by only one of them wouldn’t wonder where the other nine are? As Jesus wonders this, he points out that the man who returned is a “foreigner” (Luke 17:18). He then tells the man, “Stand up and go; your faith has saved you” (19).

Here’s what this story tells me about what the faith that saves the man isn’t:

  1. It isn’t a particular posture.
  2. It isn’t identifying with a particular group.
  3. It isn’t words.

Faith is a response .of the heart, the mind, and the will that may be expressed by one or more of the above and by what a person does with that faith as she continues on her way. Faith, in the story explored for this post, is expressed with humility, awareness, and gratitude. To encounter these qualities, it’s often necessary to pause in the midst of our busy lives. We are meant to pause, but not to stop traveling permanently. Instead, the pause helps us to be mindful of God as we journey on.

Work cited

The Bible. The New American Bible Revised Edition, Kindle edition, Fairbrother, 2011.

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Faith Goes Beyond Obedience and Certainty

Posted in Reflections on Scripture, tagged , , , on October 6, 2022| Leave a Comment »

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash

“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.

Luke 17:5-6

This weekend, when I heard Luke 17:5-10, I found myself imagining the apostles second-guessing their decisions to drop whatever they had been doing and follow Jesus. They’d seen healings and heard a Divine voice, but they were also still seeing so much injustice and suffering. Wasn’t the Messiah supposed to end injustice and bring peace — for all people of goodwill? I imagined the apostles weren’t just seeing suffering. They were feeling it. Maybe the day they made the plea recounted in verse 5, their body aches and dry skin were demanding their attention more than usual. Maybe they missed their families, too. It had been a while since they’d feasted and toasted any newlyweds. I heard their request as being akin to saying to Jesus, “We’re running on empty. We need to refuel, spiritually. And fast. What’s the best way to do that?”

“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.’”

Luke 17:7-10

The reason I put the apostles’ plea in this context is the rest of the reading. Remember, it doesn’t end with Jesus’ reassurance about the power of a tiny seed of faith. What comes after the well-known images of the mustard seed and the mulberry tree is a parable about an “unprofitable servant” (Luke 17:10). Was this servant disobedient? No. He merely did only what was required of him (17:10). Because he doesn’t exceed the minimum requirements of being a servant, he’s unprofitable. Maybe another way to understand what makes him unprofitable would be to say that he follows the letter of what’s asked of him, but not the spirit. He obeys the master but doesn’t love him the way God loves him. He doesn’t treat the master like a beloved family member. (Of course, a human employer would be called to treat his employee the same way; faith trusts that God does that). Faith also doesn’t expect an immediate reward and is open to rewards taking different forms than expected. In other words, humility, perseverance, generosity, and patience are essential characteristics of faith.

Now, everything I’ve written in this post so far is inspired by my initial reactions while hearing the Gospel reading this weekend. Once I heard the homily, it became apparent that I wasn’t the only one this weekend to use this reading as a reflection—not just on the power of faith, but also on what faith is. The homilist spoke about what faith is, too. He said, “Faith is a gift from God and a response to that gift.” He went on to share three stories. One was about a mother diagnosed with cancer being confident that God would use her diagnosis for some greater purpose and being curious about what that use would look like. Another story was about a nun diagnosed with cancer who surprised the doctor because she didn’t look unhappy about the diagnosis. “Either way, I win,” the priest quoted the nun as saying. “Of course I’ll take the treatment.” If it worked, she’d gone serving God here on earth. And if it didn’t, she had faith that she would come to rest in the fullness of God’s presence. These were the second and third stories the priest told. The first was about St. Maximilian Kolbe, about whose life and martyrdom you can read here.

Only in the case of St. Maximilian Kolbe did the homilist reveal the outcome — at least the earthly one. These stories are reminders that faith doesn’t guarantee an easy journey. It doesn’t mean being certain about how this or that development is going to turn out. It means accepting our crosses, and not only that, according to the parable that makes up the second part of the Gospel reading for this Sunday. Faith means embracing crosses—not in the sense that we have to pretend that we like them—but in the sense that we trust they have meaning, and without knowing what that meaning is, we trust that God doesn’t want us to carry burdens in vain or alone. After all, God sent Jesus to carry our crosses with us and to keep them from destroying our souls. Furthermore, we can be the ones who turn our crosses into ways to serve the common good. We can help others to carry and to find purpose in their crosses.

I, for one, have a lifelong history of not embracing many of the crosses in my life. But I take comfort in the fact that every moment is a new opportunity to practice the faith I wrestled with in this post. Lord, help me. Amen.

Work cited

The Bible. The New American Bible Revised Edition, Kindle edition, Fairbrother, 2011.

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