The Contemplative Catholic Convert

Please, Ladies . . . be kind

2012-02-13T17:18:00.000-08:00

I posted this about a year ago. I'm reposting it because, frankly, I get so very weary seeing things that would make Sts. Peter and Paul go into a well-needed tirade, but virtually no one today (none that I know about anyway) is catechising our Church on holiness of dress (if not actual holiness of the heart). If you think what I say here is worth reading, feel free to send the link to your own email list.

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Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore love is the fulfillment of the law (Romans 13:10).

It’s not something Christian guys usually talk about. We aren’t supposed to have these thoughts. But when I approached a friend from church, his answer encouraged me to poll another friend. Then another. Then another. Age doesn’t seem to matter. It’s the same for all of us – teens, college age and older. Even much older. Everyone I spoke with grapples with the same temptation common among many Christian men.

I don’t know much about women’s struggles with their sexual nature, but I sure know about men's conflicts. Society bombards us with sexual images. Billboards, photos in weekly news magazines . . . even some lingerie advertisements in local newspapers can rival centerfolds in earlier era Playboy magazines. Short hemlines can fuel a man’s imagination to full throttle. Tight clothes that accentuate every nuance and curve can drive us to distraction. Plunging necklines and unfastened blouse buttons – ladies, let me be completely honest. We need your help.

At work, at play, even at church – most Christian guys wage nearly constant battle with their thought-life. Sometimes we win the skirmishes. Sometimes the battles rage so fiercely we not only lose, but we feel wounded even after bringing our sin to the Cross.

Yes, we understand the desire to look attractive. Who among us does not care about personal appearance? The multi-billion dollar weight-loss, clothing and grooming industries give evidence of that basic need in each of us. However, when our Christian sisters adopt the world’s definition of attractiveness they often become, instead, seductive.

We don’t deny responsibility for our own sins. We don’t rationalize God’s commandment to take “every thought captive to the obedience of Christ” (2 Corinthians 10:5). But we do ask you, please be considerate of our conflicts and, in Christian love, don’t add to our sensory overload.

St. Paul said he would never again eat meat or drink wine, if doing so would cause a weaker brother to stumble (Romans 14:1-23). “Do not destroy the work of God for the sake of food” (verse 20). I don’t think it misses the Holy Spirit’s intent to add, “or for the sake of fashion.”

Ladies, when it comes to sexual thoughts and lust, we are indeed your weaker brothers. So we plead – be beautiful. Be graceful. But also seek God’s view of beauty and grace. And seek, too, Biblical standards as to how to dress in public.

We will be very grateful for your loving response.

Nausea

2012-02-06T17:46:00.000-08:00

But because thou art lukewarm,

and neither cold, not hot,

I will begin to vomit thee out of my mouth.

(Revelation 3:16,

Catholic Douay-Rheims Bible)

I have

for years

held an intellectual understanding

of the Lord’s rebuke

of the lukewarm Laodecian church.

But my understanding

of late

has undergone

a transformation.

The intellectual has become visceral.

It happened as I suddenly awoke

to the speed at which

moral decay is sweeping our land,

putrefication so noxious

it surely stinks

to the highest heaven.

While all the while

the hand-wringing,

speeches and statements

of churchmen and women

of all labels,

but especially of leaders

appointed by God

to lead His flock . . . .

While all the while the Church,

except for rare exceptions–

remains stunningly silent,

willfully impotent,

and spinelessly unwilling

to mount an offense neither for God,

nor for His sheep.

I understand the Lord’s nausea

over a lukewarm Church.

I’m a little nauseous myself.

Graveyards and Eternal Life

2012-02-04T22:08:00.000-08:00

From my book, Lessons Along the Journey:
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Once the game is over, the king and the pawn go back into the same box. – Italian proverb

Cemeteries are not my favorite recreation spots. I’d rather be elsewhere, like the beach or at a campsite nestled among wild flowers. And so, when I visit the final resting place of friends or family, I usually stay no longer than it takes to lose myself in a few memories.

I don’t know why on one visit I altered my typical practice and wandered through rows of graves, stopping every now and again to read the words etched in stone that summarize someone’s lifetime: Joseph Kurtin - Born May 15, 1850, Died July 2, 1923. Four words and a few numbers. What had he done in life? How many mourned his death? Does anyone still remember him?

A few rows to the left, two stones stood side by side: Everett Stuart and Hannah Mae Stuart. They died the same day – October 12, 1961. Probably an accident. I wondered about their lives, but the faded marble sentinels remained silent.

Before I returned to my car, several more caught my eye. Maria was 17. Staci, 22. Antonio was 78. Thomas, 12. Marcus, 41. Rachel McCarty died the same day she was born – September 4, 1985.

As I slid behind the wheel, I remembered the Biblical book of Ecclesiastes. King Solomon had it all – money, power, prestige – things I think so important. And he used them all to satisfy every whim that tantalized his flesh. “I denied myself nothing,” he wrote in chapter two. “I refused my heart no pleasure.” For years, possibly decades, Solomon fed his lust for bigger-better-more. It was not until he neared the end of his life that he recognized the true worth of money, power, and prestige.

"Vanity of vanities," he called them.

How will my tombstone read? Born 1950. Died . . . . There’s not much room between two dates to etch accomplishments – or service. Such things must be written on human hearts, and I can’t help but wonder what my epitaph on those hearts will say. Whom will I have touched for good – or bad?

When I stand before the King of Glory, only what I’ve done for Christ will remain. I like to think the gold, silver and precious stones will illustrate how I demonstrated Christ’s life to others (1 Corinthians 3:11-15). The wood, hay, and stubble – my wealth, position and power – all of it will burn up.

"What is your life?” St. James asked. “It is a vapor which appears for a little while, and afterwards shall vanish away” (James 4:15).

To his credit, Solomon woke up to the truth about his treasures before it was too late. Before his body returned to dust, he discovered the bankruptcy of bigger and better. He understood what gives life eternal meaning and value. “Here is the conclusion of the matter,” he wrote. “Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every deed into judgment . . . whether it is good or evil” (Ecclesiastes. 12:13-14).

For me, graveyards are not the most enjoyable places to visit, but nothing speaks so eloquently in their silence about life’s priorities as row after row of headstones. And nothing speaks about life beyond the grave more powerfully than the words of Jesus Christ: "Do not be amazed at this, because the hour is coming in which all who are in the tombs will hear His voice and will come out, those who have done good deeds to the resurrection of life, but those who have done wicked deeds to the resurrection of condemnation” (John 5:28-29).

What epitaph are we writing?

The Murderer and the Saint

2012-01-29T17:51:00.000-08:00

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus (Romans 8:1).

Christians had good reason to fear. Saul rampaged through their towns, dragging men and women before hastily gathered courts. When the disciples refused to abandon their faith in Christ, Saul cast his vote for their execution and watched as mobs hurled rocks at their bloodied and dying bodies. But not satisfied with decimating only the Jerusalem church, he set out toward Damascus to extend his murderous rage against Christians.

Then God knocked him to the ground. And the rest is history.

God used Saul, better known as the apostle Paul, to bring the gospel message to Europe and Asia. He spent the remainder of his life championing the One whom he at first despised. Two thousand years later, Christians still read his letters to find hope, power, encouragement, challenge, and renewal in Christ.

Some think God chose Paul that day on the Damascus road. The apostle, however, saw it differently. He believed God had chosen him long before he mounted his horse for the journey. God's call reached back before he tossed Christians into dungeons, or watched the mob murder Stephen. Before he persecuted the church of Christ "beyond measure and tried to destroy it" (Galatians 1:13), God had already set His seal on him. God chose Paul before he had done anything wrong or right. He chose him before he was born (see Galatians 1:15).

But more important, God chose you before you were born, chose you before you did whatever it is you've done of which you are ashamed and broken . . . chose you still -- today -- to raise you up as a beloved son or daughter.

Oh, imagine that unimaginable privilege!

Have you ever noticed that God sometimes has to knock us to the ground to get our attention? I have bruises to prove it. But bruises can be a good thing, if we let them be so. The psalmist wrote: It is good for me that I was afflicted, because now I keep thy law. If I had not been afflicted, I would have perished in my iniquity. Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I keep thy law (paraphrased from Psalm 119:65-75,92).

Or as St. Paul would later write: For the one who sows to the flesh shall reap corruption, heartache, grief, sadness, but the one who sows to the spirit shall reap eternal life, peace, love, hope, joy (see Galatians 5).

Has God knocked you to the ground? I have a suggestion rooted in my experiences: Don't get up until you first get to your knees and apologize to God for what you know to be sin. And if He has not yet knocked you to the ground, please don't wait for it to happen. His love for you makes such discipline inevitable.

And friend, it can be a very long way to fall.

Who Do You Say That I Am?

2012-01-21T21:18:00.000-08:00

Because the Nicene Creed has undergone a recent retranslation by Rome to bring the English version closer to the original Greek, I will be revising my first book, We Believe: Forty Meditations on the Nicene Creed. The following is the first of a few changes I plan to make.
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[Jesus] said to them, “But who do you say that I am?” Simon Peter answered, “You are the Christ, the son of the living God” (Matthew 16:15-16).

Nicene Creed Statement: I believe in one God, the Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth . . ..”

For the seven years I recited the Nicene Creed as a Catholic (I came into the Catholic Church in 2005), I liked saying “We believe.” As a Jewish Christian, I understand the value of the communal proclamation of faith. For thousands of years my people have made similar proclamation each Sabbath when they recite the cornerstone text of Judaism: Sh’ma Yisrael, Adonai Elohenu, Adonai echod -- Hear O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One. And for millennia, whether persecuted and ostracized to shtetls, or welcomed into towns or cities, Jews have anchored themselves to one another as much for protection as for self-identity.

Christianity, like its Jewish root, is a communal faith. The Lord Jesus said it first: “I will build my Church.” The Greek word used here – ekklessia – denotes those who are called out of the world and into God’s special community. Jesus did not establish a maverick faith wherein everyone does what is right in his or her own eyes. Anyone with a cursory knowledge of Israel’s history during the Period of the Judges understands how maverick faith leads to disastrous outcomes.

But long before the Church revised the Creed in 2012 to its original wording, “I believe,” I knew the communal ‘We’ in the Creed had potential to rob the community of the personal faith of ‘I’. Without individuals, there would be no community, and without individual faith, the community becomes little more than a religious shell.

The Lord Jesus went out of his way to teach the crowds about the one lost sheep, the one lost coin, the one lost son. He left the throng to find the one demoniac, the one leper, the one lame. He singled out Zaccheus in the sycamore tree, the woman at the well, the tax collector at the table. “My sheep hear My voice”, Jesus said, “and I call them by name.” Yumiko, Ethan, Dakshi, Oksana, Jose, Deloris, Michael . . . . God calls each of us by name to become part of the community of “those who are called out.”

Perhaps one of the clearest examples of the importance of individual faith can be found in the sixth chapter of 2 Maccabees. By the time of its writing, the Jewish people had been living under Greek domination for more three centuries. Many had already thrown away the ancient faith passed down from Moses for Greek philosophy, culture and lifestyle. Then, a little more than 160 years before Mary and Joseph laid their Baby in the manger, a Greek politician determined to force the remaining Jews in his realm, under pain of death, to abandon their religion and practices. To expedite their apostacy, he ordered the profaning of the Jewish Temple, “so that the altar was covered with abominable offerings prohibited by the laws” (2 Maccabees 6:5). He prohibited their celebrations of the Sabbath and their feasts. He made it a crime worthy of torture to even admit to being Jewish.

Enter Eleazar, the elderly Jewish scribe. When brought before the court and forced to eat pork, Eleazar made an unambiguous choice to serve God regardless of the consequences. He spit it out, preferring death than defilement.

But that’s not the end of the story of his personal faith.

“Those in charge of that unlawful sacrifice took the man aside, because of their long acquaintance with him, and privately urged him to bring his own provisions that he could legitimately eat, and only to pretend to eat the sacrificial meat prescribed by the king. Thus he would escape death, and be treated kindly because of his old friendship with them.”

Eleazar, however, would have none of that charade. He answered, “At our age it would be unbecoming to make such a pretense; many of the young would think the ninety-year-old Eleazar had gone over to an alien religion. If I dissemble to gain a brief moment of life, they would be led astray by me, while I would bring defilement and dishonor on my old age."

He then added, “Even if, for the time being, I avoid human punishment, I shall never, whether alive or dead, escape the hand of the Almighty. Therefore, by bravely giving up life now, I will prove myself worthy of my old age, and I will leave to the young a noble example of how to die willingly and nobly for the revered and holy laws” (2 Maccabees 6:21-28).

When we recite with those around us the words of the Nicene Creed, “I believe” we proclaim with Eleazar and with all the faithful martyrs who chose God over the culture: We will serve God and no one else. When we recite the creed together, we fearlessly answer the Lord’s question, “Who do you say that I am?”

We forever say: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.

Why Are You in Despair, O My Soul?

2012-01-18T16:17:00.000-08:00

Why are you in despair, O my soul? (Psalm 42:5)

So what do you do when you’ve prayed for thirty years about a desperate need with eternal consequences, and your prayers seem to get no further than the ceiling?

Me? I struggle with depression over it. And finding lost car keys after a quick prayer just doesn’t help overcome the confusion, the frustration and other emotions I am not always able to articulate when God seems so silent about something of such eternal worth as that for which I have prayed for so long.

It was in that frame of mind that I recently began my morning with the Lord. I opened the Scriptures to the place I’d left off the day before and began reading Psalm 42: As the deer pants for the water, so my soul pants for you, O God.

My eyes glazed over. I’ve read that verse a hundred times or more, and this was just one more time on my way to completing my reading routine. I pushed through the next few of verses, forcing my mind to stay focused. And then I read verse five: Why are you in despair, O my soul? And why have you become disturbed within me?

Suddenly, now I’m focused. I reread the verse, as if I could hear the divine Author of the psalm whispering in my ear, Why are you despairing?

I read the next part of the text: “Hope in God.”

The Holy Spirit had captured my attention, and I went back to verse one. Then verse three beckoned: “My tears have been my food day and night, while they say to me all day long, ‘Where is your God?’”

Oh, where had I heard that before? So many times, I’ve lost count, my adversaries – Satan and his minions – have tossed their barbs at me, “What’s the use in prayer, or serving God? You keep praying, and He keeps ignoring you.”

I read further, sensing the Holy Spirit trying to speak with me. I got to verse ten. Again the psalmist laments, “As a shattering of my bones, my adversaries revile me, while they say to me all day long, where is your God?’”

Twice in this short song the adversary suggests suspicion toward God. It’s a play from the same playbook he used with Eve in the Garden. It’s an end run that has worked with all too frequent success for millennia. Why would Satan change his strategy now?

The psalm ends at verse eleven with the same challenge, the same encouragement, as at the beginning of the psalm: Why are you in despair, O my soul? And why have you become disturbed within me? Hope in God, for I shall yet praise Him . . . .”

Hope in God. The Hebrew can just as well be translated, Wait for God. Or, in other words, Stop listening to the Adversary. God has heard your thirty-years-long prayer. Trust Him.

Trust Him!

My depression did not suddenly dissipate when I closed the Bible that morning. Trusting God without seeing an iota of His work in the situation for which I pray is not easy for me. But my gloom seemed a little lighter. And I found a modicum of comfort when the Holy Spirit reassured me that my prayers do get higher than the ceiling. And that God is working all things for good.

Richard, wait for God.

You who read this, wait for God.

My Way or the Highway

2012-01-12T09:37:00.000-08:00

I posted this a couple of years ago, but after a particularly disappointing exchange I've had over the last couple of days with some FaceBook 'friends' (whom I have since 'unfriended' as a result), I decided this essay would be appropriate to post once again.
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On another Sabbath He entered the synagogue and was teaching; and there was a man there whose right hand was withered. The scribes and the Pharisees were watching Him closely to see if He healed on the Sabbath, so that they might find reason to accuse Him. . . . And Jesus said to them, "I ask you, is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the Sabbath, to save a life or to destroy it?" After looking around at them all, He said to him, "Stretch out your hand!" And he did so; and his hand was restored. But they themselves were filled with rage, and discussed together what they might do to Jesus (Luke 6:6-11).

Each time I read this passage, I am bewildered by the Pharisees’ cold-heartedness. Why could it be wrong to heal someone – even on the Sabbath?

Throughout the Old Testament, religious scholars such as the Pharisees and scribes were appointed by God Himself to protect the integrity of Jewish faith. And next to circumcision, obedience to the Sabbath Day commandment was a central requirement to the proper performance of Jewish faith. Little wonder, then, that Jesus angered so many of the Jewish teachers and doctrinal specialists when – according to their understanding of Scripture – he broke the Sabbath by healing people.

As I contemplated this vignette in Luke’s gospel, I focused on that phrase – according to their understanding of Scripture. And then another vignette in St. Luke’s gospel flashed into my memory. In this one (chapter 9), the apostle John said to Jesus, We saw someone casting out demons in Your name, and we tried to prevent him because he does not follow along with us (verse 49).

It seems the Pharisees and other Doctors of the Law were not alone in the practice of their religion within the strict confines of their understanding of Scripture.

Jesus’ disciples practiced the same kind of – what I call – “all or nothing” faith.

“All or nothing” faith. It’s what I also practiced for decades. Unless people worshiped Christ like I worshiped Him, or interpreted Scripture as I did, or attended the same denominational church as I – their Christian faith was suspect.

I should have paid more attention to the Lord’s response to St. John in that next verse: Do not hinder him; for he who is not against you is for you (Luke 9:50).

All or nothing faith. It’s hard to achieve the kind of unity for which Jesus prayed, when we accept from others nothing less than the “Gospel According to Me” (see St. John 17:20-23).

Perhaps that’s why the Lord Jesus said to the Doctors of the Law: Do not judge according to appearance, but judge with righteous judgment (John 7:24). Or St. Paul wrote to the Christians in Rome: Who are you to judge the servant of another? To his own master he stands or falls; and he will stand, for the Lord is able to make him stand (Romans 14:4).

Lord, help us overcome impatience with patience, pride with humility, a deaf ear with an open mind. Teach us to judge not according to how things appear, but with righteous judgment. Amen.

It Doesn't Get Any Simpler.

2012-01-06T23:37:00.000-08:00

“. . . let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, ² fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith . . . (Hebrews 12:1-2).

As soon as I opened the door I knew something was wrong. Rotten, actually. But I was already late for work, so I grabbed my lunch from the refrigerator and darted out the front door. My wife was out of town visiting family, so I planned to take care of the rotted whatever-it-was when I returned later that night.

That was my first mistake.

My inbox at work grew inches with each passing hour. I didn’t leave the office until after dark and the thought of starting dinner when I arrived home left me weak-kneed. I decided to grab dinner at a nearby restaurant.

By the time I arrived home, cleaning the refrigerator was the last thing on my mind. I plopped in front of the television to unwind from the day. An hour later I headed for the shower and the bed. I’d take care of the fridge in the morning.

That was my second mistake.

The next morning when I opened the refrigerator door, the pungent stench of rotted cabbage filled every corner of the house. I slammed the door shut and glanced at my watch. I’d be late for work if I didn’t leave soon. I grabbed an apple and rushed out of the house. The fridge would have to wait.

When I returned from work ten hours later, the odor from the fridge had settled over the house. It left me no choice. I tossed the cabbage . . . and the lettuce, tomatoes and celery laying nearby. Then I scrubbed the fruit and vegetable bin with bleach.

Like slowly rotting cabbage, sin is never a private matter. If left alone, its stench will seep into and ruin every corner of our life, our families, communities, and our nation. And there is not one person reading this who does not know that to be true. They know it at a visceral level learned from experience – often from repeated experience.

We make a serious mistake to be casual about rooting sin from our lives. We make a serious -- deadly -- mistake when we tacitly ignore the commandment of God to be holy according to His standards, and not according to the standards of the culture.

Like the law of gravity, the law of sowing and reaping is inescapable: Whatever we sow, we reap. If we sow to the flesh, we reap corruption. If we sow to the spirit, we reap eternal life (Galatians 6:7-8).

It doesn’t get any simpler. Or clearer.

Or more difficult.

Strategies for Prayer -- twelfth in a series

2011-12-29T17:11:00.000-08:00

Lord, teach us to pray . . . (Luke 11:1).

The prayer of Abraham and Jacob is presented as a battle of faith marked by trust in God's faithfulness and by certitude in the victory promised to perseverance (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2592).

In the battle of prayer we . . . must respond with humility, trust, and perseverance to these temptations which cast doubt on the usefulness . . . of prayer (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2753).

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I’ve lost count how often I’ve nearly given up hope that some of my prayers would ever be answered. And I admit it’s difficult to keep asking the same thing year after year after year, when it seems my prayers get no higher than the ceiling.

Then one morning during a particularly disquieting lack-of-faith time in prayer, the Lord reminded me of the “Our Father” Jesus taught His disciples.

“Pray this way,” He said. “ . . . Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” And I mused on those words awhile. For two thousand years Christians all over the world have prayed the “Our Father.” Many, every day. Two thousand years. That’s close to a bazillion prayers over time. Nonetheless, God’s kingdom is still not come to earth, nor is His will perfectly done on earth – especially the salvation of humanity (2 Peter 3:9) – as it is in heaven.

So why did Jesus command us to pray for things that would not see fulfillment in nearly 2000 years? Perhaps – and I’m only guessing here – perhaps it was to teach us something about perseverance. Like He illustrates in this parable in Luke 11:

Suppose one of you has a friend, and goes to him at midnight and says to him, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves; for a friend of mine has come to me from a journey, and I have nothing to set before him’; and from inside he answers and says, ‘Do not bother me; the door has already been shut and my children and I are in bed; I cannot get up and give you anything.’ I tell you, even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, yet because of his persistence he will get up and give him as much as he needs.

And then Jesus added:

So I say to you, ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks, receives; and he who seeks, finds; and to him who knocks, it will be opened.

I think it important to note the Greek verbs here for ‘ask’, ‘seek’ and ‘knock’ can also be translated, “keep asking,” “keep seeking,” “keep knocking” – which makes better sense considering the context of the passage.

Persist. Persevere. Don’t give up. Keep asking. Keep seeking.

Why? I guess because, well – because God says to.

I don’t understand why sick people don’t get better, why children go astray, why families shatter, why finances fail, why . . . why . . . why. I don’t understand why heaven sometimes seems like brass, or why Christians sometimes die without ever seeing their most fervent prayers answered.

But I do know this:

God is God, and I am not. His ways are higher than my ways, His thoughts higher than my thoughts. And when tempted to question His love because of delays to my prayers – or flat out, “No” – I like to stare at the crucifix on the wall across from my couch and remind myself it was on such a cross that God demonstrated His profound love for me, and that I need to get control of my doubts – and just trust Him. Trust Him. Even as the prophet Habakkuk trusted Him:

For though the fig tree does not blossom, and no fruit appears on the vine, though the yield of the olive fails and the terraces produce no nourishment, though the flocks disappear from the fold and there is no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord and exult in my saving God (Habakkuk 3:17-18).

Lord, I believe. Help me in my unbelief.

Who Will We Believe?

2011-12-27T17:23:00.000-08:00

Behold, days are coming, declares the Lord God, When I will send a famine on the land, not a famine for bread or a thirst for water, but rather for hearing the words of the LORD (Amos 8:11).

Every now and then –

like now –

I long to hear

what prophets and saints

said of sin

righteousness

and judgment –

instead of what some

with academic letters

say they said;

“God doesn’t send

calamities

or judgment

for our sins.”

“Sin,” they say

“is its own judgment.”

But that is

not

at all

what God’s prophets –

men without academic letters,

but full of His Holy Spirit –

said.

Prophets like:

Daniel

or Jeremiah

or Ezekiel

or St. Paul

or even Jesus.

God judges sin.

Sometimes soon.

Sometimes delayed.

But always sure.

Perhaps

if we paid better heed

to God’s prophets
and our Sacred Tradition,
instead of modern opinions,

we would

as a Church and as individuals

be more passionate to

be holy as He is holy

pray, fast, repent,

and thereby avert

the otherwise inevitable disasters

God’s prophets and saints warned of.

Every now and then,

I long to hear
truth.

Oh, How He Loves You and Me

2011-12-23T15:03:00.000-08:00

While reading through Mark's gospel my eye focused on 12:24, and I began musing on how I might write about it. I hope it speaks to you this Advent season:
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Jesus said to them, “Are you not misled because you do not know the scriptures or the power of God? (Mark 12:24).

It is also

so sadly true

that we can be misled

because we do not know

the Scriptures,

or the mercy of God.

Or His forgiveness.

Compassion.

Or patience.

We err when we

ascribe to Him

volatile

impatience.

Vengeance.

Rejection.

We err to conclude

He ruthlessly demands

consistent perfection,

unfailing obedience,

or He turns His back

and pitilessly

sends us away.

How mistaken we are –

How tragically mistaken we are –

to take texts out of context

and ascribe human imperfections

to God’s ineffable perfection.

We do so when

we do not understand

the whole of Scripture

and, therefore,

the gentle love,
kindness,

and goodness

bound up in

our Father

who art in heaven.

For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways, [says] the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, [and] My thoughts higher than your thoughts. (Isaiah 55:8-9)

Behold, the virgin will conceive . . .

2011-12-22T09:28:00.000-08:00

During this Advent season I have been posting some essays from my first book, We Believe: Forty Meditations on the Nicene Creed. This one is about the Virgin.
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Creed Statement: By the power of the Holy Spirit He was born of the Virgin Mary . . .

Today’s Focus: The Virgin

And Mary said: "My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my savior. For He has looked upon his handmaid's lowliness; behold, from now on will all ages call me blessed" (Luke 1:46-48).

Why did God choose Mary to bear His Son? What did He see in her that moved Him to select the Virgin to nurture, comfort, and educate the Savior of the world? We don’t know. Scripture is silent. But we can infer several reasons from what Scripture does tell us.

First, Mary possessed courage. In first century

Israel

, unmarried pregnant girls were outcasts. Israelite culture considered sexual immorality a capital offense, punishable by stoning. That’s why the adulterous woman in St. John’s gospel (chapter 8) would have died had Jesus not intervened. Mary, knowing her unwed pregnancy would cost her reputation, probably her betrothal to Joseph, and perhaps even her life – nevertheless, laid herself at God’s feet and told the angel, “Be it done to me according to Your word.”

And Mary knew Scripture. In an era when catechists didn’t consider it a priority to teach Scripture to girls, it's clear Mary read and memorized God’s word. Her adoration of God (Luke 1:46-55) is an example. She quotes or alludes to at least six Old Testament texts in those short eleven verses (1 Samuel 2:1-10, Psalm 34:2, Psalm 35:9, Psalm 98:1, Psalm 103:17, Psalm 107:9). Mary applied what the Psalmist declared centuries earlier, “Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light for my path” (Psalm 119:105).

Mary also demonstrated humility. She could have told the angel, “You’re asking too much of me. Send someone else.” But instead, she answered, “May it be done to me . . .” In other words, she said not her will, but God’s. Not her plans, but His. Perhaps as she spoke, she remembered Solomon’s conclusion in Ecclesiastes, “The last word, when all is heard: Fear God and keep his commandments” (Ecclesiastes 12:13). Perhaps she remembered the Proverb, “Charm is deceptive and beauty fleeting; the woman who fears the Lord is to be praised” (Proverbs 31:30).

Further, Mary presented herself obedient to God. "Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord.” If Eve, the Mother of mankind, had answered God as Mary, and not disobeyed the Father’s commandment about the forbidden tree, salvation history would be different. But Eve disobeyed, and Mary, by her obedience, fixed what our first mother broke.

Mary proved herself chaste. “For from the heart,” the Lord Jesus said, “come evil thoughts, murder, adultery, unchastity, theft, false witness, blasphemy. These are what defile a person . . . " (Matt 15:19-20). Mary knew none of these. She was a virgin not only in flesh but also in spirit.

And finally, if there is a final word about the Mother of God, Mary didn’t model herself after the world, but let love for God transform her into a useful vessel for Him. No wonder He chose her to carry and mother His Son.

When we recite, “He was born of the Virgin Mary,” we remind ourselves to imitate her, to clothe ourselves with obedience, humility, courage, purity and knowledge of God’s word. God chose Mary to bring Christ into the world. By imitating Jesus’ mother, we bring Him to our world.

Prayer: Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, that we will learn to love God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength. Amen.

Imitating the One who Loves Us

2011-12-19T10:52:00.000-08:00

Since we are in the midst of Advent -- the time when Christians reflect on the first coming of Jesus -- I thought to continue posting a few excerpts from my first book that speak to Christ's first advent (Oh, how I await His second!).

Nicene Creed Statement: By the power of the Holy Spirit He was born of the Virgin Mary, and became man.

Today’s focus: He became man

So Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple cloak. And (Pilate) said to them, "Behold, the man!" (John 19:5)

At unexpected times, my memory’s eye catches glimpses of my deceased father. I see him in myself when I’m lost in thought and absently rub my fingers the way he used to. I see him sit ramrod straight when I hold my shoulders as he did. I see him in the mirror when I hold my chin a certain way to shave. His movements and patterns remain ingrained in my subconscious long after his death. But that I see him so often in myself shouldn’t surprise me. Children typically imprint some of their parents’ characteristics.

What kind of man was Jesus? How did He live and what were His habits? We do well to answer these questions because in learning to imitate Christ, we imprint His Father’s characteristics onto our subconscious and grow more closely into the image of God (2 Corinthians 3:18).

So, who was Jesus?

He was a Man of prayer. St. Luke wrote, “But the news about Him was spreading even farther, and large crowds were gathering to hear Him and to be healed of their sicknesses. But Jesus Himself would often slip away to the wilderness and pray” (Luke 5:15-16).

He was compassionate. “At the sight of the crowds,” St. Matthew records, “His heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd” (Matthew 9:36).

He possessed an intimate knowledge of the Scriptures. He quoted as easily from Moses as from the Prophets, from the Psalms to the Writings.

He was passionate for holiness. “Take these out of here,” He commanded the moneychangers. He turned over their tables, tossed their coins across the floor, and chased them from the temple. “Stop making My Father's house a marketplace" (John 2:16).

And He was a Man of humility. How can we understand the eternal Second Person of the Trinity, clothed in the flesh of a man, and yet He washed His disciples’ feet?

When we recite the Creed and focus on God who became Man, we can take the opportunity to meditate on His life of prayer, holiness, humility, compassion, and knowledge of Scripture. And by meditating, we can learn to imitate Him who fully reflects the Father.

Prayer: Holy Spirit, make me as a child in my Father’s arms. Open my eyes to observe Christ’s life, His habits, His passions. Imprint those things on my heart that I may walk as He walked. Amen.

But, Why a Manger?

2011-12-15T09:50:00.000-08:00

As I mentioned in the last post, the Nicene Creed is one of the earliest statements of authentic Christian faith. And, since we are in the midst of Advent -- the time when Christians reflect on the first coming of Jesus -- I thought to post a few excerpts from my first book, "We Believe: Forty Meditations on the Nicene Creed." Here is another excerpt from the book:
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Nicene Creed Statement: By the power of the Holy Spirit He was born of the Virgin Mary . . .

Today’s focus: He was born

Behold, the virgin shall be with child and bear a son, and they shall name Him Emmanuel, which means "God is with us" (Matthew 1:23).

I remember our excitement when Nancy and I learned she was pregnant with our first child. It happened more than thirty years ago, but the memories remain vivid. We waited with growing anticipation during the nine months as her abdomen slowly expanded. We watched in awe as her belly rippled when Keren stretched in the womb. We busied ourselves with planning and shopping and decorating the nursery long before we brought our baby home.

Our daughter was born March 12, 1977 in a warm, hygienic hospital delivery room. The obstetrician handed Keren to a nurse, who wiped her with a soft towel, wrapped her in a blanket, and carried her to Nancy’s arms.

What parent doesn’t hope his or her child will enter the world snuggled in a warm blanket, laid in a comfortable bed, and watched over by an adoring family? And if anyone might have expected that kind of experience, Mary and Joseph surely did. After all, the Virgin carried the Son of God within her womb, conceived through the miraculous intervention of the Holy Spirit.

Babies just don’t get any more special. But when His parents arrived in Bethlehem, the town was already swollen with strangers. Joseph and Mary, tired and hungry from their journey, longed for a place to bathe and a bed to let their weariness give way to refreshing sleep. Instead, Joseph searched in vain for a clean and comfortable place for his wife to lie down. They settled for the night with cattle and to the smell of manure and rotting straw.

To make an uncomfortable situation worse, Mary went into labor.

Why did God bring His son into the world in a barn instead of a manicured palace? Why did He permit His Son to be born far from family and friends who could nurture the Infant and help the new mother care for Him?

I don’t know. That’s not the way I’d have done it. But were I to guess, I’d say it happened that way so God could demonstrate from the very beginning of His work for our salvation that “Emmanuel” really does mean God is with us – in our poverty, complete with rotting straw, manure and flies.

The Nicene Creed reminds us Jesus was born as most of humanity is born: in humble surroundings with the most meager of necessities. Christ knows the fullness of our harshest experiences because He lived through them – from a feeding trough to a splintered cross, with the Via Dolorosa – the Way of Suffering – between the two.

Jesus’ birth – like His life – is God’s assurance that He is intimately connected to our humanness. He understands our loneliness, our sorrow, our confusion. And through it all, He remains only a prayer away from drawing us to Himself, wrapping us in His arms and wiping us clean with His blood.

Prayer: Father of the Lord Jesus Christ, when I am rushed and confused, compose and quiet me. Make my heart like a comforted child, not looking at my circumstances, but always to You, my shelter, my anchor, my peace. Amen.

Dr. Thomas and the Nicene Creed

2011-12-10T09:04:00.000-08:00

The Nicene Creed is one of the earliest statements of authentic Christian faith. And, since we are in the midst of Advent -- the time when Christians reflect on the first coming of Jesus -- I thought to post a few excerpts from my first book, "We Believe: Forty Meditations on the Nicene Creed." The translation of the Creed from Latin to English changed at the beginning of Advent to bring it closer to the original Greek. Eventually I will revise my book to mirror the few changes that were made.
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Creed Statement: We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only son of God, eternally begotten from the Father, God from God, Light from light, true God from True God, begotten, not made, consubstantial (one in being, of the same substance) with the Father.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came to be through Him, and without Him nothing came to be. (John 1:1-3)

I remember Dr. Thomas. He was one of my college teachers who helped his class prepare for scheduled exams. He used to walk the aisles between our desks and review the information he expected us to know. As he spoke, he’d sometimes pause, clear his throat or make some other gesture to indicate what he’d just read was important. He never actually said, “This will be on the test,” but everyone knew, when Dr. Thomas gestured, we should pay attention.

Well, almost everyone. There were always a few students with other things on their minds – and they’d get the question wrong.

From the earliest days of the Church, people mixed heresies with the doctrines handed down by the Apostles. For example, in the early 4th century a renegade priest, Arius, rejected Church teaching regarding the deity of Christ. Arius believed Jesus was not co-eternal with the Father and was, therefore, inferior to the Father.

In 325 A.D., Church leaders met in council in Nicea (modern-day

Turkey

) to deal with the Arian heresy. The Council leaders knew that the wrong answer to the question of Jesus’ deity would inevitably spread through the Church’s understanding of sin, salvation, atonement and forgiveness. Mankind’s eternal destiny was at stake.

To help the Church get the right answer, the Nicene Council responded in what I like to think of as the equivalent of clearing their throats. In this case, however, they clapped their hands and blew a trumpet in a rising crescendo, as if to say, "Hey! Pay attention! This is really important."

So we couldn’t miss the point, the Fathers gave us the correct answer seven times in one sentence proclaiming Jesus is: The only son of God; eternally begotten from the Father; God from God; Light from light; True God from True God; begotten, not made; consubstantial with the Father.

Yet, despite the seven-fold response, some got it wrong. Some still do.

False teachers have always drawn men and women from Christian faith. That’s why Christ established His Church as the “pillar and foundation of truth.” (1 Timothy 3:15)

When we recite the Nicene Creed, we join our faith with historic Christian doctrine dating back to the Apostles and preserved through apostolic succession. We have the opportunity to nurture that faith born in our hearts through the Holy Spirit, and instructed by the Church.

Who is Jesus? That’s an easy one, if we pay attention to the pillar and support of truth when it tells us who He is.

That's one test question we don’t want to get wrong.

Prayer: Father, thank You for sending the Holy Spirit to Your Church. Help us humbly receive His instruction in things necessary for our good and for our salvation. Please protect our minds from the devil’s deceptions. Amen.

Turning Point

2011-12-07T12:26:00.000-08:00

I published this before. It bears repeating.

This incident happened to me somewhere around 1978. Thirty-three years ago. As I get ready to post this to the blog, I can still see myself sitting in the driveway, staring at the clouds.

Thirty three years. Has it really been that long?

Nancy and I struggled through many other low points in our lives together after this incident. And yet, thirty-three years later, I can still say, our “heavenly Father knows our name, and He knows our address. And that alone is enough to sustain me.”

Please, trust Him. Thought the earth should shake; Though the mountains fall into the depth of the sea, He will never forget His child.

--------------------------------

In God I have put my trust, I shall not be afraid. What can mere man do to me? (Psalm 56:4).

I tried in vain to control the tears. But without a job, two small children at home and a third on the way, despair settled over me like a thundercloud.

"God," I wept aloud. "What am I going to do?" I wiped my eyes with my sleeve and glanced quickly at the traffic around me. It was bad enough if someone would see a grown man crying, but I didn't want to also be seen talking to myself.

Following what I believed to be His guidance several years earlier, I took my family and left the security of military life to attend college. But after graduation, as opportunities for jobs evaporated, I could only wonder if I had misunderstood His call. And now, after suffering another lay‑off from my job, I faced an ever growing pile of over‑due bills.

"For I know the plans that I have for you," I reminded the Lord of the Scripture which years earlier encouraged me, ". . . to give you a future and a hope” (Jeremiah 29:11). Then I repeated a litany of reasons why I thought He had not lived up to His part of the bargain.

But it was no use. My throat ached from the lump still stuck in its midst. Heaven seemed glazed over with concrete.

As I pulled into our driveway, I absently scanned the sky toward the horizon. Wisps of cirrus clouds hung lazily across the light blue expanse. I sat nearly motionless for a few minutes, drained and worn out from crying. And then I did the only thing left open to do. I breathed in quiet surrender: "Lord, I still trust you."

Nothing changed overnight. We continued to eke out enough money to keep food on the table, the rent paid and the electricity turned on. But something felt different. Inexplicably different. Without understanding how or why, I sensed my confidence in Him grow.

I suppose I had reached a turning point.

Some weeks later the phone rang. My former employer needed me back to work. Could I report that evening for the night shift?

In a world of ever shifting plans and programs, where the only thing constant is change, the Biblical message stands as unshakable as God Himself: "He shall be the stability of [our] times, a wealth of salvation, wisdom and knowledge" (Isaiah 33:6). When heaven appears brass and the ear of the Lord seems dull, God ever remains faithful and "intimately acquainted with all [our] ways" (Psalm 139:3).

Sometimes through life's angry thrashings we may forget that. And it is to our disadvantage when we do, for it is often just those times of turmoil which drag us face to face with ourselves, forcing our resolve to trust God despite . . . and in spite . . . of circumstances.

Sort of like our personal turning point.

I have learned it time and again . . . and re-learned the lesson more times than I should have needed: though the earth may quake and mountains are cast into the sea, the heavenly Father knows our name and He knows our address. And that alone is enough to sustain me.

I pray it is enough to sustain you.

Strategies for Prayer -- eleventh in a series

2011-12-04T11:13:00.000-08:00

Lord, teach us to pray (Luke 11:1).

The Church teaches on the parable of the merciless servant: [Jesus said] "So also my heavenly Father will do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother from your heart." It is there, in fact, "in the depths of the heart," that everything is bound and loosed. It is not in our power not to feel or to forget an offense; but the heart that offers itself to the Holy Spirit turns injury into compassion and purifies the memory in transforming the hurt into intercession. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2843. Bold is my emphasis).

In the last essay I wrote about confession as a prayer strategy. Today I’ll address forgiveness, and how this “strategy” opens or closes the gates of heaven to our prayers.

The Lord Jesus made it clear in many places that God’s forgiveness of us is inextricably linked to our forgiveness of others. Perhaps the clearest example of this principle is found in the verses just after the “Our Father” in which Jesus warns, “If you forgive others their transgressions, your heavenly Father will forgive you. But if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your transgressions (Matthew 6:14-15).

Forgiveness is a choice. It is an act of the will, independent of our ‘feelings’ of forgiveness.

It’s the choice Jesus made when He prayed for the Father to forgive those who mocked and crucified Him – even though they had not asked for forgiveness. It’s the same choice St. Stephen made when, as he was dying at the hands of the mob stoning him, he asked the Father to not hold that sin against them – even though they had not asked for forgiveness.

Everyone who has read my books knows I killed my baby more than 40 years ago in an abortion clinic. Four years later, when I discovered Jesus was the Jewish Messiah, I offered Him my life, repented of my sins, and entered the waters of baptism. For the next 44 years I was (and remain) absolutely certain God forgave not only that terrible crime, but all of my other despicable offenses against Him as well.

However, in early October 2011, while watching a DVD at a men’s meeting devoted to the subject of abortion, I had a terrible epiphany. As if for the very first time my eyes opened to the bottomless depth of my abortion sin. A sword of shame ripped into my gut. Blood gushed from the wound and my bowels lay eviscerated on the floor. Guilt – horrifying, unrelenting guilt – flooded over me like a tsunami, first sucking away my breath, only to return relentlessly churning and tossing ravaged, grievous memories through my heart.

I couldn’t watch any longer. I grabbed my coat and rushed from the building. It was all I could do to get into my car before uncontrollable sobs wracked my body.

“What are you doing to me!” I shouted at heaven, confused, angry, horrified. “What was that all about? I don’t deserve to live!”

I could not fathom why God, who’d forgiven me four decades earlier, who’d buried my crimes in the sea of Christ’s blood – why had He brought me to my knees like this?

It was not until hours later, after struggling to process what God had done to me, that I understood. That is to say, I think I understood. I had never before known such grief for my sin. But neither had I known for what and for how much He had forgiven me.

And then the Holy Spirit connected the proverbial dots.

Like the slave in Jesus’ parable cited in the Catechism paragraph above, who do I think I am to keep a grudge against another? What gives me the right to hold an unforgiving spirit toward family, friend – or even enemy? I owed God a debt that I could never repay. But He paid my debt in full. Every penny.

And He paid it with His blood.

Do I really think I can live close to Christ if I am unwilling to live as Christ? Do I really think I can hope for His forgiveness if I remain unwilling to forgive others – even those who don’t ask for forgiveness?

I learned on that day in October that of all the prayer strategies I could ever practice, if confession and forgiveness are not at their core, I might as well stop jabbering at God. I learned that forgiveness is a choice. And that by exercising the right choice, I permit the Holy Spirit to supernaturally turn injury into compassion and hurt into honest intercession.

Lord Jesus, please. Conform my choices more and more to yours.

Who's In Charge Here?

2011-12-01T20:56:00.000-08:00

I published this some time ago. I thought to post it here.
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So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal (2 Corinthians 4:18).

Thirty years. That's how long it had been since I last saw my childhood home. I stepped out of the car and walked along the cracked sidewalk toward the aging red‑brick buildings Memories flooded my mind. Privet hedges, probably the same ones I ran through as a child, lined the perimeter of the large grass area separating either side of the three‑story buildings. The gnarled maple towered above the empty playground to my right. I used to hang upside down on those monkey‑bars.

A little further I turned a corner. There it was: 2210. The bold black numerals above the stone entryway stood out in contrast to the graying concrete. I pushed the green wooden door open and stepped through a time portal. Everything was just as I remembered, yet at the same time seemed so different. As a child, the cavernous hallway extended for miles. Now claustrophobia settled over me. I stepped onto the black-tiled stairs and climbed two at a time until I reached the third floor landing and stood outside my old apartment. Funny thing, the rust‑brown metal door no longer loomed monstrously large as it did years earlier.

We understand our world through our senses. However, sight, taste, touch, smell and hearing limit us to physical realities. They do little to help us understand important, yet intangible things such as knowing the assurance of God's love, or His comfort in the midst of sorrow. Such things defy our senses because they’re rooted in what Scripture calls faith - the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen (Hebrews 11:1).

Perceptions rooted in the natural senses can deceive. Consider when the Syrian army surrounded Elisha (2 Kings 6:14). When Elisha's servant looked out over the horizon, his stomach turned itself over in knots. The situation appeared hopeless. Defeat seemed inevitable.

“Alas, my master,” he cried. “What shall we do?”

But Elisha looked beyond natural vision and watched heaven’s chariots swarm to their rescue. The physical evidence did not change. Syria remained massed for battle. But the spiritual evidence perceived through eyes of faith brought peace where fear reigned.

How ought we as Christians view darkened shadows and cavernous hallways? How shall we view doors that loom monstrously large before us, or enemies massed on our horizons? As Elisha, or as his servant?

What battles do we face? Chronic illness? Loss? Poverty? Divorce?

Satan will try to keep us so busy flailing and cowering for protection that we forget who really is in charge. He wants us to forget though the battle is arrayed against us, the chariots of God encamp around God's people (Psalm 34:7), the God of Elisha still reigns, and victory still belongs to the Lord.

Strategies for Prayer -- tenth in a series

2011-11-25T19:45:00.000-08:00

Lord, teach us to pray (Luke 11:1)

Each of the preceding strategies have helped me maintain focus during my times of prayer. However, two strategies I’ve not yet mentioned form for me the foundation of intimate prayer with God. Actually, I consider them more as prerequisites for effective prayer instead of simple strategies. They are confession and forgiveness. The two are as inseparable as faith and works (see St James 2:17). One is useless without the other. And without either, I don’t believe my prayers – despite my ‘strategies’ – get higher than the ceiling.

Today’s post addresses confession. Next time I’ll talk about forgiveness.

The writers of Scripture link prayer and confession so often that even with a cursory reading of the Old and New Testaments, it is impossible to miss to connection. For example: He who conceals his sins prospers not, but he who confesses and forsakes them obtains mercy (Proverbs 28:13).

I called to the Lord with my mouth; praise was upon my tongue. [But] had I cherished evil in my heart, the Lord would not have heard (Psalm 66:17-18).

As long as I kept silent [about my sin], my bones wasted away; I groaned all the day . . . Then I declared my sin to you; my guilt I did not hide. I said, "I confess my faults to the Lord," and you took away the guilt of my sin (Psalm 32:3-5).

Likewise, you husbands should live with your wives in understanding, showing honor to the weaker female sex, since we are joint heirs of the gift of life, so that your prayers may not be hindered (1 Peter 3:7).

Following the Biblical writers, the Church in her teaching on the effect sin (mortal or venial) have on our relationship with God, quotes St. Augustine:

While he is in the flesh, man cannot help but have at least some light sins. But do not despise these sins which we call "light": if you take them for light when you weigh them, tremble when you count them. A number of light objects makes a great mass; a number of drops fills a river; a number of grains makes a heap. What then is our hope? Above all, confession (Catechism of the Catholic Church, paragraph 1863).

The Church further warns: . . . There are no limits to the mercy of God, but anyone who deliberately refuses to accept his mercy by repenting, rejects the forgiveness of his sins and the salvation offered by the Holy Spirit. Such hardness of heart can lead to final impenitence and eternal loss (Catechism, 1864).

Imaginative prayer, Lectio divina, the Rosary, prayer lists, and all the other strategies I use to grow in my relationship with Christ – I have found them all utterly useless if I am aware of my sin – even venial sin – and I delay my repentance. Thus, the examination of conscience, along with confession, forms the basis of this prayer strategy.

The Church explains such examination as “made in the light of the Word of God. The passages best suited to this can be found in the Ten Commandments, the moral catechesis of the Gospels and the apostolic Letters, such as the Sermon on the Mount and the apostolic teachings” (Catechism 1454).

When I meet each day with the Holy Spirit, I ask Him to reveal to me things I did wrong that day (or in the very recent past) – the unnecessarily harsh words I spoke to others, lusts I entertained in my thoughts, resentment, an unforgiving spirit . . . . And when He unveils those sins to my mind, I immediately repent, using words similar to the Church’s Act of Contrition:

O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of heaven, and the pains of hell; but most of all because they offend Thee, my God, Who are all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace, to confess my sins, to do penance, and to amend my life. Amen.

As the Church teaches, “Among the penitent's acts, contrition occupies first place. Contrition is "sorrow of the soul and detestation for the sin committed, together with the resolution not to sin again" (Catechism 1451). When the Holy Spirit reveals to my mind my mortal sins, I bring them to the confessional to receive the Sacrament of Penance.

St. Paul tells us, “God is not mocked” (Galatians 6:7). Without honest confession and repentance, I believe my prayers are in danger of falling on His deaf ears. Which, by the way, is why I so often pray:

“Lord, I am not as willing to change my lifestyle as I ought to be. But, Lord, whatever You have to do to purge me, to redirect me, to make me holy, Lord, I am willing to be made willing for you to do that.

Strategies for Prayer -- ninth in a series

2011-11-20T14:19:00.000-08:00

Lord, teach us to pray (Luke 11.1)

I am sometimes easily distracted during my time with Jesus, so I developed a strategy to mitigate the frequency and length of those distractions. My technique deals with the environment of prayer, which I think is just as important as the style of those prayers.

1. The Lord Jesus said, “When you pray, go to your inner room, close the door, and pray to your Father in secret” (Matthew 6:6). I use a spare room as my “prayer closet,” where I can close the door and keep myself as free from potential distractions as possible. It’s furnished sparsely with only a couch, footrest, small table and a lamp. Across from the couch I placed a crucifix, which becomes the typical focal point of my prayers.

2. Although I spend time with the Lord both morning and evening, my most quality time is in the morning, before I’ve looked at my email or spent time on the computer. Looking to Jesus the first thing after I get out of bed helps keep my mind uncluttered and free from the distractions waiting for me when I move into the day’s business.

3. Part of my time in prayer includes reading and meditating on Scripture. I keep three versions of the Bible (NAB, NASB and NKJV) beside me, as well as a concordance* and lexicon.** During my meditation I might think of an idea or Scripture I read in another place in the Bible. The concordance helps me find it when I can remember only a portion of it. Also, while reading I might become curious how a particular verse is translated in another version, or how the original Greek or Hebrew is used in other places in Scripture. That’s where the other versions and the lexicon are useful.

4. I keep a notepad and pen at my side. It is more the norm than the rarity that while in prayer an idea pops into my head about some task I need to do later that day, or a Scripture I want to memorize, catches my attention. I take a few seconds to jot the ‘to do’ items on the pad, so I won’t forget them. Having written them down, I can then return to my meeting with Jesus. I also keep with me the CDs, Rosary, prayer lists, alphabet prayers, and other tools I’ve mentioned in earlier posts – all of which help keep my heart focused on prayer.

I try to order everything in my prayer ‘environment’ to keep distractions at a minimum, and my strategies have proved largely successful in decreasing the frequency and length those distractions.

Perhaps my ideas will be useful for you, as well.

* A concordance is a list of key words and their immediate contexts. Many Bibles include a concordance (usually in the back, after the maps).
** A lexicon – in this case, a Bible lexicon – lists all the Greek, Hebrew or Aramaic words used in the Bible, along with their definitions and uses elsewhere in Scripture.

The Dream and the Reality

2011-11-17T18:52:00.000-08:00

I published this some time ago. I thought to reprint it here:
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For the Lord Himself, with a word of command, with the voice of an archangel and with the trumpet of God, will come down from heaven, and the dead in Christ will rise first . . . (1 Thessalonians 4:16).

A foreboding pressure - like an ominous, palpable presence - spread over me. It pressed against my chest like a vise. I tried to push it away, but couldn’t move my arms. I tried to scream, but couldn’t open my mouth. I fought to force air through my lips, but my body refused to respond. I tried again and again as terror overwhelmed me -- until in a final, frantic lunge, I exploded with a shattering, guttural cry.

That woke me.

It took a while to fall back to sleep, but when I did, my thoughts careened in disconnected, agitated images. I pushed through narrowing caverns of dirt-ribbed corridors. I searched for an unknown person in danger deep within the caverns. Each turn through passageways seemed more torturous than the last. I squeezed sideways and pressed myself through the tightening walls. Gossamer objects floated in and out of my dream-state.

Cylinders. A sarcophagus. Long, narrow tubes. Closets.

Then my eyes suddenly opened. I looked at the clock. 6:10. I stayed in bed until my breathing slowed.

When I finally stumbled into the living room for my time with Jesus, I tried to lose myself in worship. But the night terrors lingered in the back of my mind.

Until I saw a parallel.

For some, life is like a nightmare from which they can’t seem to awaken. Loved ones fall ill and, despite our prayers, die. Families shatter. Victories appear just beyond our reach on an ever-distant horizon. We search for shelter for those we love. But there is none. We press forward into walls that close ever tighter against us, locking our arms and knees to unyielding rock. Claustrophobia rises in our throat. We try calling for help, but can’t force air past our lips.

And then, for some, it changes. Like awakening from a bad dream, God’s light bursts through our darkness. The Holy Spirit assures us of His presence and care as we read a Scripture, hear a hymn, or someone speaks God’s word to us. In that moment the Promise becomes tangible. And the Holy Spirit whispers, “Eye has not seen, nor ear heard ¼ the things which God has prepared for those who love Him.” Our spiritual ears grab hold of the Father’s vow, “Weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning” (Psalms 30:5).

Oh, how I long for the morning and -- ultimately -- the Trumpet, when our eyes open to see Him clothed in pulsating light. And we will rise from this earthly slumber to the presence of boundless, fathomless eternity -- more awake than ever before. Sorrow, confusion and terror will have fled forever from the splendor of His glory and we will, at last, approach the throne where the Father welcomes us home.

No wonder our spirits sometimes cry with St. Paul's, “Maranatha. Come Lord Jesus.”

And no wonder I pray so often, "Oh, Lord, awaken us to your glory."

I Am Confused

2011-11-12T08:29:00.000-08:00

The Lord said to Moses and Aaron: This is the Passover statute. No foreigner may eat of it. (Exodus 12:43)

I have often been

confused,

Why we invite those to the Table

who give claim to Catholic faith,

whose holiness is suspect,

who reject the moral authority

and teaching

of the Catholic faith

with respect,

for example,

to abortion

and sexual sin;

While at the same time

we deny the Table

to non-Catholic Christians

who live openly holy lives,

who adhere to the moral authority

and teaching

of the Catholic faith

with respect,

for example,

to such things.

I am
confused.

Strategies for Prayer -- eighth in a series

2011-11-06T08:31:00.000-08:00

Lord, teach us to pray (Luke 11:1)

The Catechism of the Catholic Church (paragraph 2728) continues its teaching regarding prayer this way: Finally, our battle has to confront what we experience as failure in prayer: discouragement during periods of dryness . . . The conclusion is always the same: what good does it do to pray? To overcome these obstacles, we must battle to gain humility, trust, and perseverance.

Dryness. Discouragement. Distractions. I have experienced many reasons and made many excuses to avoid time with God in prayer. My earlier posts highlighted several strategies I have used to keep focused on prayer. Lectio Divina is another. Actually, I’ve practiced lectio divina for decades – without knowing it had a name.

Lectio Divina is an ancient form of prayer often associated with the monastic tradition. It’s description is more detailed than what I am about to tell you (you can find more information by clicking this link), but essentially I practice lectio divina each time I read the Scriptures and ask myself two questions: What is the writer trying to convey to his readers, and what might the Holy Spirit be trying to convey to me in the passage? While I mull the questions over and over in my mind, sometimes nothing comes to me. At other times I gain new insight into my walk of faith. And, if a particular verse in text catches my attention, I memorize it and speak it back to God as a form of prayer.

The Scriptures are an integral part of any Christian’s faith walk with Christ. Indeed, it is so important to our spiritual lives, the Catechism tells the Catholic faithful: The Church "forcefully and specifically exhorts all the Christian faithful. . . to learn the surpassing knowledge of Jesus Christ, by frequent reading of the divine Scriptures. Ignorance of the Scriptures is ignorance of Christ (paragraph 133).

Lectio Divina is very special to my time with the Lord because He so often speaks with me through the Biblical text. I don’t know how I could mature in my faith and in my relationship with Christ without constant nourishment on His Word. Thus, it is no surprise the Church teaches: And such is the force and power of the Word of God that it can serve the Church as her support and vigor, and the children of the Church as strength for their faith, food for the soul, and a pure and lasting fount of spiritual life." Hence "access to Sacred Scripture ought to be open wide to the Christian faithful" (Catechism paragraph 131).

Two essays I’ve posted to this blog in months past are examples of reflections born out of Lectio Divina: Sometimes It Causes Me to Tremble & Sunday is Coming.

I’ll post yet another of my prayer strategies next time.

By Degrees

2011-11-02T17:30:00.000-07:00

But you, beloved, build yourselves up in you most holy faith . . . (Jude 20).

Some time ago, close friends gave me a Day by Day Bible desk calendar for Christmas – the kind with tear-off sheets for each day of the year. Each sheet had a Bible verse and an encouaging quote from a Saint or other notable Christian. I referred to the pages nearly every day I was in my office.

The gift didn't surprise me. From all external signs, she and her husband of fifteen years seemed a model Christian couple. They attended Mass each Sunday and sent their two children to Catholic school. But a few months after they gave me the gift, her husband discovered she’d been routinely unfaithful to him for more than two years.

I know it happens all the time – people attend Mass, say the prayers, hear the homily, sing in the choir, receive the Eucharist. But beneath the religious activity can lurk a Judas.

In the decades I’ve walked with Christ, I’ve observed that no one walked away from Him overnight. It's always been a slow process. A compromise here. An excuse there. Another rationalization. And the heart hardens by degrees.

That's one reason I bring myself to God every morning and evening in prayer, study of His word, and worship. I do it because, although I love Him with a deepening love, I fear that, given the right circumstances, I could deny Him three times. I could succumb to Satan's insidious deceptions and grow, by degrees, unfaithful to my Divine Bridegroom.

So I take the time and I make the effort to strengthen myself in my faith and in my faithfulness to Him. And I routinely ask, Lord, help me labor to remain honest and pure. And holy.

Strategies for Prayer -- seventh in a series

2011-10-28T16:25:00.000-07:00

Lord, teach us to pray (Luke 11:1).

Another prayer strategy I use is ‘imaginative prayer.’ I thought I had invented imaginative prayer. Just goes to show how little I knew -- and know -- of prayer.

My use of the Rosary as a prayer tool initiated me to the practice. For readers unfamiliar with the Rosary, I posted links to information in my last Strategy blog to help explain its history and its use. You can follow these links here and here.

I do not use the Rosary as traditionally prayed, but modify it to better meet my prayer and worship needs. When I ask someone to pray for me, I usually tell them what I need prayer for. And so, I modify my petition on the ‘Hail Mary’ beads this way: Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, please pray for (name of a person, or a situation). Amen. (For readers familiar with the Gospel of Luke, you might have recognized two portions of Scripture in the Hail Mary – Luke 1:28 and 1:42).

The Rosary also includes the recitation on the Apostles’ Creed, the ‘Our Father’ (the Lord’s Prayer) and the ‘Glory Be’. By the time I’m through these sections of the Rosary, 20-30 minutes might have passed because I take time to reflect on specific words or phrases in those prayers. This is in addition to the half hour or so I spend reading Scripture and worshiping Jesus through music CDs. But I don’t like to leave the Rosary without meditating on at least one of the Mysteries. For readers unfamiliar with the Mysteries, please follow this link.

It was during my meditation of the Mysteries that I stumbled on what I thought was my invention of ‘imaginative prayer.” I later discovered people have practiced imaginative prayer for centuries. St. Ignatius of Loyola wrote of that prayer method in the 15^th century. When I searched the internet for other explanations of the practice I found many sites. Here is one link (click here).

As I meditate on one of the Mysteries of the Rosary, I focus on that particular time in Jesus’ life. For example, one of the Mysteries has to do with His flogging. I imagine I am there, in the courtyard. I try to smell the dust swirling in the wind, to hear the mob’s shouts behind me, to watch His mother crumble with grief as the soldier’s whip slices Jesus’ back. Click this link to read my essay resulting from such an imaginative moment. Another Mystery – the Resurrection – resulted in this essay.

Scripture is replete with stories and vignettes that easily lend themselves to imaginative prayer – yet another strategy to engage us more deeply into the art and practice of communion with God.

I’ll post another of my strategies in a few days.

Vatican's Call for a World Bank

2011-10-24T08:23:00.000-07:00

Virtually everyone who reads my writings knows I am a Roman Catholic in my theology. And the latest report from Rome both excites me and unnerves me.

I have taught for decades we are on the precipice of the Second Advent of Christ. That not only WILL Jesus return, but that He can at any moment. I have also taught that Bible prophecy related to His second coming is being fulfilled with increasing frequency, especially during the last 50 or 60 years – starting with the return of Israel to its homeland in 1948. I also teach that humanity in general and individuals in particular are often tools in the hands of the Almighty God to bring about His purpose (for example, see Isaiah 55:8-11).

And so my interest was suddenly piqued when I read this morning that the Vatican has joined the growing crescendo calling for a unified world bank. In so doing, it seems humanity is being drawn closer to the one-world bank spoken of in Revelation 13. That bank will be part of the package that ushers Christ’s second coming. That excites me. But I am also unnerved because, if I understand Bible prophecy accurately, a lot of bad stuff will happen to Christians and Jews in the interim.

Jesus often said it: Let him who has ears to hear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches (e.g. Revelation 2:7). And so, Lord, keep us faithful, knowledgeable of your holy Scripture, and prepared for Your return. We look forward to being called to Your side.

Practice the Presence of Jesus?

2011-10-23T18:55:00.000-07:00

I wrote this some time ago. Decades, actually. I thought it would be good to bring it back.
----------------

Practice the presence of Jesus?

I tell you, it’s not easy to do.
And God surely knows it really is tough ‑
I hope He sees my point of view.

There's no time to read from the scripture

when my favorite show's on TV.
So a quick word of prayer to the Saviour ‑
Really! What more do I need?

And the kids each need to be chauffeured
cross-town to practice their game.
My hair then needs to be coiffured,
and tomorrow's just more of the same.

Practice the presence of Jesus?
I wish it were easy, don’t you?
But with my busy life ‑ enough is enough!
What does He expect me to do?

Strategies for Prayer -- sixth in a series

2011-10-21T21:34:00.000-07:00

Lord, teach us to pray (Luke 11:1).

Another of my prayer strategies – one that has quickly become my favorite – is the Chaplet of Divine Mercy. The prayer uses the traditional Rosary beads, but the pattern of prayer is quite different. (For readers unfamiliar with the Rosary, these links here and here will help explain its history and use).

The Chaplet starts with the “Our Father,” moves to the “Hail Mary,”* and then to the Apostle’s Creed. Here the Chaplet departs substantially from the Rosary. Follow this link to the Chaplet beads.

The prayer on the bead that separates each series of ten beads begins with: “Eternal Father, I offer You to body and blood, soul and divinity of your dearly beloved Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, in atonement for our sins and those of the whole world.” On each of the ten traditional “Hail Mary” beads, petitioners pray: “For the sake of His sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world.” Finally, at the end of the five ‘decades” (series of ten beads), the following is prayed three times: “Holy God, Holy, Mighty One, Holy and Immortal One, have mercy on us.”

The Chaplet can be prayed with our without music, but I use the musical rendition because the combination of the words and melody tugs at my emotions. For an example of the Chaplet set to music, Click here (this is Donna Cori Gibson’s YouTube version of the Chaplet. Start part one of the video at around 2:15. You can find part two here. I do not watch the video during my prayer time because it would distract me. Instead, I downloaded Gibson’s song from iTunes).

Although the music readily engages me, my personality is such that continual repetition becomes monotonous. Consequently, my mind drifts after the third or fourth “For the sake of His sorrowful passion . . ..” I also have difficulty wrapping my mind around “ . . . and on the whole world.” The concept is too vast for me to not only pray with passion, but with purpose. Therefore, I modify the prayer this way:

Bead 1: For the sake of His sorrowful passion, have mercy on Nancy (my wife), and on our whole family.
Bead 2: For the sake of His sorrowful passion, have mercy on Kerry (our daughter), and on our whole family.
Bead 3: For the sake of His sorrowful passion, have mercy on Zion (our eldest son), and on our whole family.
Bead 4: For the sake of His sorrowful passion, have mercy on Nathan (our youngest son), and on our whole family.
Beads 5-10: I call the names of other family members on my side of the family.

On the second series of beads I call the names of those on Nancy’s side of the family. On series three through five, I call the names of my students, friends, members of our parish, and so forth. Praying for individuals in my personal ‘world’ helps me pray with passion and purpose because I know and care about the people for whom I’m praying. I like being able to put faces with names.

The Chaplet of Divine Mercy includes elements of several strategies I often use in my private morning time with my Lord: lists, music, and scripted prayers. And best of all, it's all about Jesus. From beginning to end, it's focus is on my Lord, Saviour and Friend.

I enjoy this strategy so much that it has become my most used method of prayer during my evening time with the Lord. I encourage readers to try this method. You don’t need Rosary beads to pray the chaplet. You can just as easily use your ten fingers.

* For those unfamiliar with the Hail Mary, Catholics say: Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen. (Readers might recognize two portions of Scripture in the Hail Mary – Luke 1:28 and 1:42).

Strategies for Prayer -- fifth in a series

2011-10-19T17:32:00.000-07:00

Lord, teach us to pray (Luke 11:1)

My purpose in posting this series of prayer strategies is to help readers win the battle that is often set against our attempts at consistent prayer. About the battle, the Catechism of the Catholic Church gives us valuable guidance. You can read some of what it teaches in paragraphs 2725 to 2745. I cited 2725 in an earlier post. Here is one more:

2729 The habitual difficulty in prayer is distraction. . . . . To set about hunting down distractions would be to fall into their trap, when all that is necessary is to turn back to our heart: for a distraction reveals to us what we are attached to, and this humble awareness before the Lord should awaken our preferential love for him and lead us resolutely to offer him our heart to be purified. Therein lies the battle, the choice of which master to serve.

I rarely use only one method of prayer during my time with the Lord. While “lists” form the foundation, I often build on that foundation with music. On that subject, the Catechism quotes St. Augustine: How I wept, deeply moved by your hymns, songs, and the voices that echoed through your Church! What emotion I experienced in them! Those sounds flowed into my ears distilling the truth in my heart. A feeling of devotion surged within me, and tears streamed down my face - tears that did me good. And, Augustine added: He who sings prays twice. (CCC 1156, 1157)

As I begin my time of prayer, I listen to two or three worship songs through headphones, preferring lyrics in the second person rather than the third (e.g. ‘You’ instead of ‘He’). While I listen I pray the words back to God. Here are a few songs, along with portions of their lyrics, I use in my prayers (I included in this post the links to YouTube videos only because I am unable to embed the songs alone. I do not watch videos during my prayer time because they would be a distraction).

O Sacred Head, Now Wounded (click here)

O sacred Head, now wounded, with grief and shame weighed down. Now scornfully surrounded with thorns Thine only crown: how pale thou art with anguish, with sore abuse and scorn! How does that visage languish which once was bright as morn!

What thou, my Lord, has suffered was all for sinners' gain; mine, mine was the transgression, but Thine the deadly pain. Lo, here I fall, my Savior! 'Tis I deserve thy place; look on me with thy favor, vouchsafe to me thy grace.

Here is another: Worthy is the Lamb, by Hillsong (click here)

Thank you for the cross, Lord. Thank you for the price You paid.
Bearing all my sin and shame, In love You came, and gave amazing grace.

Thank you for this love, Lord. Thank you for the nail pierced hands.
Washed me in Your cleansing flow, now all I know, Your forgiveness and embrace.

Worthy is the Lamb, seated on the throne. Crown You now with many crowns,
You reign victorious. High and lifted up, Jesus Son of God, the Darling of Heaven crucified, worthy is the Lamb. Worthy is the Lamb.

Here is another by Hillsong: At The Cross (click here)

Oh Lord, You've searched me, You know my way. Even when I fail You, I know You love me. Your holy presence, surrounding me. In every season, I know You love me. I know You love me.

At the cross I bow my knee where Your blood was shed for me, there's no greater love than this. You have overcome the grave, Your glory fills the highest place, what can separate me now?

You go before me. You shield my way. Your hand upholds me. I know You love me. And when the Earth fades, falls from my eyes, and You stand before me, I know You love me. I know You love me

And one by Michael W. Smith: This is My Desire (click here)

This is my desire to honor you, Lord with all my heart
I worship you. All I have within me, I give you praise.
All that I adore is in you

Lord I give you my heart, I give you my soul, I live for you alone.
Every breath that I take, every moment I’m awake,
Lord have your way in me.

It has only been within the last several years that I discovered how wonderful prayer can be when prayed through music. And I have begun to understand a little of what St. Augustine meant when he wrote: Those sounds flowed into my ears distilling the truth in my heart. A feeling of devotion surged within me, and tears streamed down my face - tears that did me good.

Yes, it is good to give God thanks and praise. Music – for me – enhances that joy.

Fairy Tales and the Gospel

2011-10-16T16:57:00.000-07:00

In the midst of my prayer strategies, I've been mulling this post for the past few days since I received the call from my mother.
------------------

The message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God (1 Corinthians 1:18).

During the decades I’ve told others about the gospel of Jesus Christ, I’ve heard the term ‘fairy tale” more than a few times. I just heard it again when my mother called. She’d been sharing Christ with a friend for nearly a month. Even bought her a Bible and underlined Old Testament prophecies about Jesus and their New Testament fulfillments. But mom was frustrated when she called to ask my advice. Her friend told her, “It sounds like the fairy tales I grew up hearing.”

I understand Mom’s frustration. When something is so clear to one person, but veiled to another, it’s easy for the one who sees to become frustrated with the one who doesn’t. On the other hand, I also understand her friend’s skepticism. It can seem far-fetched that the holy and almighty King and Creator of the universe would even trouble Himself to rise from His throne on our behalf, much less stoop and lift us into His arms. Even more so, it could certainly seem a fairy tale that, after we returned His affection by spitting in His face (so to speak) – that this most-sacred, transcendent God would nonetheless sacrifice His Son to the penalty our sins deserved, so we – you and I, and anyone who asks – might be completely forgiven, and made righteous in His eyes.

Yes, I understand how some might think that a fairy tale.

But what some think false is for me the substance of unchangeable truth. It is the bedrock reality in which I live and – I pray – for which I would even die. So my advice to Mom? “God permits some of us to plant seeds, and others to water. But only God can give life to the seed. Let her know you are here to answer her questions. And pray that she will one day see through eyes of faith the astonishing truth of what she now calls a fairy tale.”

Strategies for Prayer -- fourth in a series

2011-10-14T15:35:00.000-07:00

Lord, teach us to pray (Luke 11:1)

Scripted prayer. I used to think that was an oxymoron, that scripted or "canned" prayers, like those in prayer books, are less meaningful (read: less spiritual) than spontaneous ones.

How foolish of me. Men and women of God have prayed scripted prayers – such as the Psalms – for millennia. But what of those offered to God by spiritual giants such as St. Augustine, St. Francis of Assisi, John Wesley and A. W. Tozer? For example, when offered from the heart, doesn't Tozer's prayer carry a sweet savor to the Father? I think so:

Lord, I have heard a good word inviting me to look away to You and be satisfied. My heart longs to respond, but sin has clouded my vision till I see You but dimly. Be pleased to cleanse me in Your own precious blood, and make me inwardly pure, so that I may with unveiled eyes gaze upon You all the days of my earthly pilgrimage.

Or this one by John Wesley:

I am no longer my own, but Yours. Put me to what You will, rank me with whom You will; put me to doing, put me to suffering; let me be employed for You or laid aside for You, exalted for You or brought low for You; let me be full, let me be empty; let me have all things, let me have nothing; I freely and heartily yield all things to Your pleasure and disposal.

Or St. Augustine:

Narrow is the mansion of my soul; [please] enlarge it, that You may enter in. It is ruinous; [please] repair it. It has that within which must offend Your eyes; I confess and know it. But who shall cleanse it? Or to whom should I cry, [except to] Thee? Lord, cleanse me from my secret faults, and spare Thy servant from the power of the enemy.

Or St. Francis:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love, Where there is injury, pardon Where there is doubt, faith, Where there is despair, hope, Where there is darkness, light, Where there is sadness, joy. O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console, not so much to be understood as to understand, not so much to be loved, as to love; for it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, it is in dying that we awake to eternal life.

But I discovered it doesn’t take a ‘spiritual giant’ to create beautiful prayers. Anyone who loves Jesus can write a beautiful and meaningful prayer. Here is an example. It’s part of a prayer written by my friend, Cyndi. I love the way she refers to our Father in heaven as her ‘Papa.’ It reminds me of Jesus’ and St. Paul’s use of the Aramaic term for ‘daddy’ – Abba (Mark 14:36; Romans 8:15, Galatians 4:6):

To You, Papa, do I lift my voice. . . . My Redeemer, You rescued me from myself. You have cast my sins as far as the East is from the West. You delight in me and your plans for me are good.

Nothing can stand against You or separate me from your love. My heart is inclined to fear and shame. The voice of my enemy assails me with accusations. But You, Papa, are my safe refuge. My strong protector and faithful advocate. When my soul longs for comfort, You wrap your love around me and hold me close . . . Your love is my security. My hope and strength are in You.

When I am blinded by tears and I lose my way. You are my light and my salvation. . . You remain constant though the storms of life threaten and winds of doubt persist. . . Please use this broken, fearful and willing heart for your glory. Glory and honor be to You, O God.

And finally – there really isn’t a ‘finally’ when it comes to the kinds of prayers we or others can write – here is part of a prayer written by Jeanne St. John Taylor, an internet acquaintance of mine. You can find many of her prayers on her blog (click here):

O God of the Ineffable Name, the Great I AM, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, You are a God who hides himself -- for our protection since human flesh is not capable of looking on your face and surviving. But because you want us to know you, you continuously reveal yourself in Creation. The changing colors of the clouds, the thunder of waterfalls and the multitude of stars have shouted your name since the beginning of time.

We hear you in the whisper of breeze in the trees. Sense your presence in the sweet incense of cherry blossoms. We long for you even if we don’t know what we’re longing for . . . .

Come fill us with the flow of you love, Holy Spirit. . . . Show us how to quiet our hearts and trust you to handle things we can’t handle. Pry our fingers loose from control of our own lives and those around us. Teach us to empty ourselves of self-effort and open ourselves to you so you can heal us in mysterious ways we don’t understand. Give us your peace that passes beyond understanding. Remind us that when we don’t have words to express our deep ache, your Spirit prays for us with groanings too deep for words – and you hear. And answer . . . .

Like prayer lists, acrostics, or alphabet prayers, scripted and self-authored prayers can become the means of a deepening relationship with Jesus. Such prayer strategies can help us focus on our communication with Him.

I’ll share yet more strategies in later posts.

Strategies for Prayer -- third in a series

2011-10-11T16:48:00.000-07:00

Lord, teach us to pray (Luke 11:1).

Another strategy I use from time to time is what I call the spontaneous alphabet prayer, because the 26 letters of the English alphabet form its basis. For example, using the sequential letters ‑ A, B, C, D and so on, my ‘made up’ prayer might sound like this:

A: All heaven declares Your glory. And so, O Lord, I proclaim it as well. There is none like you ‑ in holiness, righteousness and compassion. With all the saints around your throne, I bow in worship and adoration.

B: Before time, you are God. And after time, you are God. And in time, in my time, you are God. Where can I go that you are not? Day and night, east and west, to the furthest horizon or the lowest ocean depths, you are there. And that comforts me.

C: Come, Holy Spirit, I need you. Woo me back to Calvary where the Savior suffered and died for me. Capture my heart, mind, soul and spirit. Protect me from turning aside to worthless treasures. Keep the eyes of my heart focused on Jesus, the author of life and the source of faith.

While I pray I don't pay attention to grammar, nor do I worry if I repeat myself. God is not grading my prayers according to the rules of English. Like a parent loves to hear his toddler speak, our heavenly Father is pleased to hear us speak to Him.

Each prayer does not always begin with the letter for that section. However, at least one word in each section will begin with the appropriate letter. For example:
D: Father, Don't ever cast me from thy presence. Don't take thy Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of Thy salvation and renew a steadfast spirit within me.

E: You have given me Eternal life because you enabled me to believe that Jesus bore my sins in His most holy Body, that He became sin for us, that we ‑ in Him ‑‑ might become Your righteousness.

And so I continue through the rest of the alphabet.

The letter X poses a minor problem because not many English words begin with it. But this problem is easily circumvented. For "X" I use the letter's sound ("ex")" as the basis for the prominent word in that section. For example, "O Lord, how EXcellent is thy name in all the earth." Sometimes I modify a Scripture, such as the first verse in Psalm 127, which reads, "Unless the Lord builds the house they labor in vain who build it." I adjust the prayer, "EXcept the Lord builds the house, they labor in vain who build it." Or Psalm 139, verse 23: "Search me, O God, and know my heart," I modify to, "EXamine my heart, O God."

Z is more difficult, but still workable. For example, "Lord, as your servant Zaccheus climbed the tree to catch a glimpse of you, make me willing to go out on a limb, risk the disapproval of others, risk reputation and fortune, just so I might see you."

Because so many words begin with (or sound like) the various alphabet letters, my prayer changes nearly every time I use the format. Let me give you another few examples of A through E:

"Lord, you command me to Abide in You and to let your words abide in me. Help me to abide. Help me in my unbelief and weariness to keep my heart focused on you. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God. Lord, bring peace to my heart so I might work for peace in our world. Comfort me, Lord Jesus. Unless you are my comforter and counselor I cannot know the peace that passes understanding. Help me Die to myself and live more fully devoted to You who are from Everlasting to everlasting . . . .

Praying through the alphabet is a useful tool to help me "pray without ceasing." I've used the alphabet pattern during my twenty‑five minute commute to and from work. I've prayed the letters during my morning time with Jesus. Sometimes I am unable to get through all 26 letters because I have to give my attention to daily chores, but finishing the alphabet is not the point. Drawing closer to Christ, is. And I am discovering through each letter, each word and each syllable, I draw closer to the One who died so we might live.

Strategies for Prayer -- second in a series

2011-10-08T08:44:00.000-07:00

You can find part 1 here: http://thecontemplativecatholicconvert.blogspot.com/2011/10/strategies-for-prayer-series-of-helps.html
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Lord, teach us to pray (Luke 11:1).

In addressing the battle of prayer, the Church offers another bit of advice: Finally, our battle has to confront what we experience as failure in prayer: discouragement during periods of dryness . . . disappointment over not being heard according to our own will; wounded pride . . . . The conclusion is always the same: what good does it do to pray? To overcome these obstacles, we must battle to gain humility, trust, and perseverance (Catechism of the Catholic Church paragraph 2728).

I do not typically employ only one strategy during my time with the Lord. I often mix and match two or three. Strategy One dealt with prayer lists. Strategy Two uses acrostics to keep me centered on prayer. In this post I talk about one of the acrostics I call: CROSS.

C— I meditate on the Crucifix on the wall in front of me and I let my mind wander to what Christ’s Crucifixion might have been like for Him. What did the cross accomplish for me? How did my sins cause His agony and death? My thoughts often take me to Gethsemane, the courtyard where He was whipped, the road to Golgotha, the soldiers hammering the spikes into His flesh. Sometimes I can even hear Him cry out in pain.

R— Then I meditate on the Resurrection. What might it have been like for the women to arrive at the tomb, only to find it empty? How does that empty tomb validate God’s promise of redemption, salvation, forgiveness and the offer of eternal life? What promise does His resurrection hold for me when I die? What might it be like when I am resurrected on that last day, and I stand before Him who died and rose again for . . . for me?

O— After the Crucifixion and Resurrection, I meditate on the “Our Father” (the Lord’s Prayer—Matthew 6). Instead of simply reciting the prayer, I pause at each verse, sometimes each word. For example, what does “Our Father” really mean in context with the whole Church? Who are my Christian brothers and sisters? Sometimes my thoughts take me across the world to places such as Sudan, Saudi Arabia and Iran where Christians are, at that very moment, persecuted, tortured, imprisoned for no other reason than their faith in Christ. My prayer continues to “Hallowed be thy name.” Have I forgotten the holiness of God? Do I misuse His name by how I act toward others? Do I live in such as way as to give unbelievers reason to sneer at His name? And so I move through the rest of the prayer in similar fashion. As you might imagine, meditating word by word and sentence by sentence through this prayer can take quite some time.

S— the first S is for Supplication. At this point, I begin my prayer for others . . . family, friends, neighbors, coworkers, politicians, students in my classes – whomever the Holy Spirit brings to mind and who might not yet be on my prayer list.

S— the second S is for Sacrifice. Now I offer myself as a living sacrifice to God. Using a prayer of St. Ignatius of Loyola, I ask Him to take my memory, my freedom, will, understanding, health, wealth, talents -- everything I have and cherish -- and to use them for His Kingdom.

Like prayer lists, acrostic prayers like this one help me maintain focus on the battle. Perhaps this strategy will also be useful to you. I’ll talk about the other strategies I use in later posts.

Strategies for Prayer -- a series of helps

2011-10-05T17:16:00.000-07:00

“Lord, teach us to pray” (Luke 11:1).

Thereupon the Lord Jesus gave His disciples – and all the Church – the model prayer known as the “Our Father,” or “The Lord’s Prayer” (Matthew 6 contains the fuller version). And for most of my Christian life, I spent about as much time in prayer is it takes to say those few verses. Yet, I knew intuitively there was more to prayer than my experience to that point.

Prayer, the Catechism of the Catholic Church (2725) tells us, is both a gift of grace and a determined response on our part. It always presupposes effort. The great figures of prayer . . . all teach us this: prayer is a battle. Against whom? Against ourselves and against the wiles of the tempter who does all he can to turn man away from prayer, away from union with God. . . . . The "spiritual battle" of the Christian's new life is inseparable from the battle of prayer. (The Catechism teaches some very valuable lessons about prayer. I urge you to look through paragraphs 2725-2745. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes).

I’d always known prayer was a battle. And that it required effort. Sometimes a lot of effort. But I was mostly unaware of the various tools – let’s call them weapons – available to the Christian, weapons ensuring victory in the battle. Weapons to transform effort to ease.

Today, and in the next several posts, I will share my prayer strategies that help keep me focused when my mind starts to drift, and energized when boredom begins to settle in. My strategies are not new. Christians throughout history have successfully used tools like these in their own prayer battles. But they were new for me. Some may be new for you.

Strategy One: The Prayer List.

During the last forty years I have used ‘to-do’ lists for just about everything. Everything, that is, except prayer. I don’t know why it took so long for me to figure out I needed a list to help me remember to pray for people or particular needs. But not long after I began the list, it had grown to the point of being unwieldy. I needed to make it more manageable. And I thought of a calendar.

I divided my list into nine columns. I labeled the first, “Daily” and the succeeding seven Monday, Tuesday, and so forth. I labeled the ninth column “Others.”

In the Daily column I write the names of people I commit myself to pray for every day – for example, family members, pastors and others. Into the columns labeled by the days of the week I place people, such as friends and their families, various politicians and those in Church leadership, people I work with, and students in my classes. Sometimes I put specific people into more than one weekday column so I remember to pray for them more often during the week. In the last column (column nine) I add people as they come to my attention during the day, either when the Holy Spirit drops their name into my heart, or the person asks me for prayer. Those names often get added to either my daily list, or a weekday list, depending on the need.

In review, each day I pray through my “Daily” column, a weekday column, and the “Other” column. Depending on the needs of those for whom I pray, I spend 15 to 30 minutes remembering them before the Lord. At that point, I either conclude my prayer time with the Lord, or I add one of the other strategies cited in later posts to continue my prayer time.

Next time: Strategy Two -- an acrostic.

Dirty Rocks and Grub Worms

2011-10-02T13:05:00.000-07:00

I published this some time ago. I thought now is a good time to revisit it:
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"So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom" (Psalm 90:12).

As soon as they burst through the emergency room doors, I knew something was wrong. The parents, still in damp bathing suits, almost threw their limp two-year-old daughter at us and screamed something about a swimming pool.

Within moments, physicians, nurses and technicians swooped into Trauma Room One. In what can only be described as a coordinated frenzy, the resuscitation team slapped wires from the heart monitor onto the child's chest. They inserted a plastic tube into her throat and forced air into her lungs. They pierced her veins with intravenous catheters and pushed emergency medications into her blood stream. In the corner of my eye I spotted the hospital chaplain standing quietly with the child's parents in the hallway, his arm around the dad's sagging shoulders.

But nothing we did -- no amount of drugs or machines or prayers brought her back. Nearly two decades later, I can still see the dad draped across his daughter's body as it lay on the hospital gurney. I can still hear her mom's convulsive sobs echo across the caverns of my memories.

During the years I worked as a nurse in that emergency department, hundreds of desperate people tore through those same doors. They arrived in rusted-out Chevy pick-ups and high-gloss sedans, in ambulances, taxis and on foot. Young and old, rich and poor, educated and not-so-educated, blue-collars and executives. I saw no one is guaranteed safe passage through human experience. Heartache slips in and out of life's shadows, and when it chooses its victim, neither power, money, prestige . . . nothing restrains its hand.

I think it is because I've seen the tragedies rip so often into others, as I move past my sixty-first birthday, I find myself often re-examining my own priorities. That's why the Calvin and Hobbes comic strip caught my attention.

Calvin is shoulders deep, busy shoveling dirt from a hole, while Hobbes, his stuffed tiger watches.

"What have you found?" Hobbes asks.

Calvin's eyes sparkle. "A few dirty rocks, a weird root, and some disgusting grubs. There's treasure everywhere!"

Isn’t it true? Children find treasure in the most unlikely places, and no one is surprised when they showcase rocks and worms. But I found another message in that comic strip. As a child, I also showcased things like rocks and roots. But now I am more sophisticated. Instead of grub worms, I showcase "real" treasure -- new cars, university degrees, job prestige and a continuing litany of "bigger-better-more."

I could be quite content with those adult treasures were it not for the gnawing memories of emergency rooms where bigger-better-more never comforts those who grieve at the bedside of their dead. I learned long ago that a hospital room is where everything we hold dear washes out: money, popularity, passions, careers -- like charred timbers after a house fire, a death-bed places it all in cold, clear perspective. Perhaps that's one reason the Psalmist prayed, "So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom" (Psalm 90:12).

I don't believe it coincidental that the day I read Calvin, I was also studying my way through Ecclesiastes. King Solomon had it all -- money, power, prestige. And he used them all to satisfy every whim that tantalized his flesh and thoughts. "All that my eyes desired I did not refuse them," he wrote in chapter two. "I did not withhold my heart from any pleasure." For years, possibly decades, he fed his lust for bigger-better-more, and it was not until he neared the end of his life that he recognized the true worth of his treasures.

"Vanity of vanities," he called them. He could have just as easily called them dirty rocks, weird roots and grub worms.

To his credit, Solomon recognized the truth about his treasures before it was too late to make things right. Before his body returned to dust (Ecclesiastes 12:7) he discovered the bankruptcy of bigger-better-more. At last, he understood true treasure. "The conclusion, when all has been heard, is: fear God and keep His commandments, because this applies to every person. For God will bring every act to judgment . . . whether it is good or evil" (v. 13-14).

At the time, I taped the Calvin cartoon to my refrigerator doorwhere it remained awhile to remind me of the importance of checking my spiritual bank account day by day. It reminded me to nurture my real treasure -- my relationship with Christ -- through frequent deposits of Bible study, prayer, Sacraments, and fellowship with other believers.

Someday I might be on the other end of the emergency room doors. I don't want to discover at that moment my treasures were nothing more than dirty rocks and grub worms.

The Other Side of the Door

2011-09-29T19:44:00.000-07:00

Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life (John 6:68).

As our home Bible study wound to a close, a young mother ran out to her car for a package she’d forgotten. She left her two-year-old daughter with half a dozen adults and children in the living room. But when Berea saw Mommy leave, her face froze with panic. She ran as quickly as her little legs could carry her and stretched in vain for the doorknob. Her screams were laden with terror, as if she believed Mommy would never to return.

One of the other women lifted Berea into her arms and tried to calm her. But it was no use. The toddler wanted no one but Mommy. And mommy was gone.

A few moments later, Berea’s mother returned. When she opened the door to her daughter’s inconsolable grief, she lifted Berea into her arms, rubbed her back and spoke tenderly into her ear. I smiled as the child quickly quieted down. Mommy had returned. All was well.

The next morning as I spent time with the Lord in prayer, my thoughts drifted back to that pitiable image of Berea screaming for her mother. And a sobering thought spread through my meditation: What must it be like for those who rejected Christ all their lives and then find themselves on the other side of death's door – knowing with horrifying certainty – Father has left and is never coming back?

Never coming back.

I cannot begin to imagine the unending inconsolable grief, the unyielding anguish of those who know they will remain on the other side of the door.

Forever.

The good news, of course, is it doesn’t have to be that way. Those who love Jesus, who serve Him and call Him their Savior can rest in Christ’s promise: "Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me. In my Father's house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be” (St. John 14:1-3).

Forever is a good place if we’re on the right side of the door.

Suffering and the Christian

2011-09-25T20:06:00.000-07:00

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding (Proverbs 3:5).

The longer I study Scripture, the more I realize how little I know about God and about why life is as it is.

Suffering is an example. Why does God permit His children to suffer? Is suffering purgative? Punitive? Or is it simply part of the package of ‘being alive’?

What does it mean when Scripture tell us Jesus was made “perfect” by the things He suffered (Hebrews 2:10)? What does it mean when it tells us, “Although He was a Son, [Jesus] learned obedience from the things which He suffered.” (Hebrews 5:8)?

As I pondered those particular passages, I remembered Jesus’ words in John 12:24: “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit;” and St. Paul’s in Philippians, “[Jesus was] found in appearance as a man, [and] humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross (Philippians 2:8).

Then the apostle’s words to the Footnotes:Colossians filtered into my thoughts: “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I do my share on behalf of His body, which is the church, in filling up what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions. . . . For I want you to know how great a struggle I have on your behalf and for those who are at Laodicea . . . that their hearts may be encouraged . . .” (Colossians 1:24 and 2:1-2).

One by one Scripture filtered into my memory. Gethsemane came next. Clearly, Jesus did not want to die. He did not want to go through with the plan. He agonized so intensely that drops of blood dripped from his skin – the medical condition is called hematohidrosis. Yet, despite his great dread, He said to His Father, “Not My will, Father, but Yours be done.”

As I put all the pieces together, I wondered if the question of Christian suffering – indeed, even human suffering – is not intricately related to God’s benevolent and beneficent purpose – whether or not I understand that purpose. Maybe, as God’s Son “learned obedience” by the things He suffered, I too – His child born of faith in Christ – I too have opportunity to learn obedience by the things I suffer. When we “fill up what is lacking in Christ’s suffering,” when we endure our struggle well, God uses our experience to encourage others who observe our faith in a faithful Father. When we “fall to the earth and die,” when we endure our pain, fear, loss and sorrow in a “Thy-will-be-done” obedience, God produces something good in the lives of others.

And also in ours.

I don’t think I understand any of that beyond the superficial, but one of the early Church Fathers, Tertullian (died c. 220 A.D.) seemed to have caught a deeper glimpse of its truth when he wrote, “the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.”

I do not like to suffer, but I like to think it is easier to endure if I trust that God is using my suffering for good purpose.

And maybe then it will be easier for me to say, “Not my will, but Thine be done.”

No Other Address

2011-09-23T16:02:00.000-07:00

I wrote this several years ago. I thought I would publish it here, too:
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[Jesus said], "unless you believe I am He, you will die in your sins" (John 8:24).

It came back to me twice. The first time, I only glanced at the address, thinking my email provider's network was acting up again - as it does occasionally. But when my message returned the second time to my in-box, I looked more closely at the address. Then I saw my mistake: I had accidentally added a letter to the addressee's name.

Unlike mail delivered by the U. S. Postal Service, an electronic-mail address demands perfection. Mail carriers have correctly delivered mail to my house despite multiple misspellings on the envelope. I have even received my mail when it was addressed to the incorrect house number. Electronic mail, however, is a different story. One letter out of place, one character missing, and your letter is not going anywhere but into the great cyberspace-boomerang.

The analogy is not perfect, but when it comes to the subject of eternal salvation, many people presume God is more like a friendly mail carrier than an inflexible email provider. They believe it doesn't matter how the mail is addressed: Jesus, Muhammad, Buddha, the Good Fairy. All roads lead to heaven -- or so the argument goes. As long as our intentions are good, the celestial delivery service will get us where we want to go.

They couldn't be more wrong. God accepts only one address for eternal life. He has determined only one Savior, one Bridge between us and God, one Door between heaven and earth.

The Jewish Prophets caught just a glimpse of Him. Isaiah said He shall be called, " . . . Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace'" (Isaiah 9:6). The prophet Daniel added, "And to Him was given (an everlasting) dominion . . . that all the peoples . . . might serve Him" (Daniel 7:14). But it was not until half a millennium after Daniel's death that the Savior's identity was fully revealed.

St. Peter told those gathered in Jerusalem that heaven's only acceptable address is spelled JESUS CHRIST (Acts 4:12). St. Paul wrote, "At the name of Jesus, every knee should bow . . . and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord" (Philippians 2:10-11). Jesus Himself said, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father, but through me (John 14:6).

Sometimes I am frustrated when the cyber-postmaster rejects my email. The idea that I could have made a mistake hardly crosses my mind. It's easier to place blame on the email provider, and more than once I have muttered aloud that if they can't be more efficient, I'll take my business elsewhere. Truth is, however, I don't need another email provider. I just need to follow the rules when I address my mail. Nothing short of perfection will work.

God's rule about eternal life is equally rigid. He requires nothing short of perfection in our "address." There is no savior but Jesus. No forgiveness of sins except through Jesus. No access to heaven apart from Jesus. Anything added to His rule, anything taken away, will only result in our rejection at heaven's gates.

And there will be no in-box available for a second chance.

Dirty Faces and Eternal Life

2011-09-18T15:28:00.000-07:00

I wrote this some time ago. I thought it might be good to post it here, too.
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“ . . . but sanctify Christ as Lord in your hearts. Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope, but do it with gentleness and reverence . . .” (1 Peter 3:15-16).

It was only a casual glance at the mirror as I walked passed -- a moment when my eye stole a glimpse at my reflection. But what a moment it was! The whole of nature stopped, turned in my direction and waited for my response to that . . . that little white and grey thing hanging from my left nostril.

"Yikes! Who’s seen me like this?"

I yanked a tissue from my pocket and attacked my nose. I cocked and twisted my head, making sure I removed every last trace of that horrible sight. But then the knot in my stomach tightened. How long had I walked around totally ignorant of my horrible plight? When did I last blow my nose? Just before I left the house? Three hours ago!

I tossed the tissue into a trash can and hurried off, wondering why no one had told me. Surely they’d seen it. Anyone looking in my direction from the next state could have seen it!

Yet the more I thought about it, the more I understood why they remained silent. They were almost as embarrassed to mention it as I was to discover it. They probably thought, "maybe he'll scratch his nose and discover it without my having to bring up the subject." Or, "maybe someone else will tell him."

How do I know that's what they probably thought? Because I have made those same dumb excuses when I've looked at someone's face and wondered "how do I tell him about his dirty nose?"

Well, believe it or not, there is a spiritual point in all this, because in dealing with my own embarrassment I learned two important things about dirty faces – and eternal life.

First, mirrors are very important. Had I not seen my reflection in the mirror, I might have continued through the rest of the day with that thing dangling on my nose. But that common looking glass reminds me of another mirror – the Bible. "The unfolding of Your words gives light; It gives understanding to the simple” (Psalm 119:130).

When I read the pages of God's "mirror" much more serious blemishes catch my eye. Like the piece of mucous stuck to the end of my nose, those cursed spots (God calls them sin) sometimes cling stubbornly to my life. And although discovering those blights are not among my favorite moments, without His mirror, my spiritual "nose-slime" would remain stuck to me, unclean, unconfessed and – consequently - unforgiven. The embarrassment of discovering that thing dangling from my nose cannot compare to the shame I would eventually experience if I stood unclean before the Lord.

Which brings me to the second point: Walking around all morning with a dirty nose is not the worst thing that will ever happen to someone. But dying unclean in sin definitely is.

Yes, I wished someone had told me my nose was dirty, but I am forever thankful someone told me my life was dirty. I am forever grateful that person pointed me to God's word where I learned not only of sin's stain on my life, but also of Christ’s blood which can cleanse me.

My dirty nose reminded me again how badly people need someone willing to risk embarrassment and tell them, kindly and with humility, their lives are dirty. They need someone - like you and like me - to tell them they need a savior.

If we don't tell them about Jesus Christ, who will?

It's All About My Jesus

2011-09-13T21:42:00.000-07:00

"We know that, if He should appear, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him just as He is" (1 John 3:2).

Jesus was very present by His Holy Spirit during the retreat I led this weekend at the Palisades. The music, the worship, the prayers . . . and even what I taught . . . have all lingered in my soul since then.

I don't think I yet realize all that the Lord did to me this past weekend. But one thing does come to mind. The Holy Spirit gave me a renewed desire to spend more time with Him in prayer. After all, as St. John tells us in his first epistle, the more we see Jesus -- the more we look at Him and to Him -- the more we become like Him.

Oh, how I so want sometimes to be more like Him. I only wish I wanted it more often.

During the retreat, the Holy Spirit introduced me again to the prayer of the Chaplet of Divine Mercy. Several of the attendees talked about how they enjoy praying it. When I returned home I looked for Donna Cori Gibson's rendition of it on iTunes and YouTube, and my spirit immediately warmed to the music. (Click here for the YouTube version, parts 1 and 2. Start the video at around 2:15),

During my prayer time this evening I snapped the downloaded iTunes music CD into my player and for the first time in years (I am sorry to admit), I prayed the Chaplet.

Oh, what a glorious, worshipful, holy prayer set to music! It's all about my Jesus. From beginning to end. All about my Jesus. His passion. His sacrifice. His atonement. His great, great, unending love for me, my family – yes, for the whole world.

At each bead I offered prayer for my family, seeing their faces in my mind’s eye each time I prayed, “For the sake of His sorrowful passion, have mercy on them and on the whole family.” And the Holy Spirit flooded into my heart.

I went to the retreat hoping I could give to others. I came away having received so much in return.

Insidious Sickness. Whole Heart Healing.

2011-09-12T14:25:00.000-07:00

The Pharisees saw this and said to his disciples, "Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?" He heard this and said, "Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do ( Matthew 9:11-12).

Margaret attributed the knots in her stomach to stress. With her oldest daughter's wedding only four months away, she had plenty to stress about -- dresses to make, floral arrangements to order, invitations to send, a hall to reserve.

Although the discomfort continued, she rejected her husband's suggestion to see a doctor. "I don't have time,” she said. “I can live with it until after the wedding."

But after Margaret lost fifteen pounds, her husband insisted she see their family physician. She made an appointment between the printer and the seamstress. She never made it to the seamstress.

After the CT scan, she was admitted directly to the hospital. The grapefruit-size mass in her stomach and suspicious spots on her liver demanded immediate exploratory surgery.

It was too late. The tumor had wrapped itself around vital blood vessels and couldn't be removed. Despite chemotherapy and radiation, she died two weeks before the wedding.

Cancer is an insidious killer. It slowly devours our health, often before we know we're sick.

And Sin kills the same way. It devours our spiritual health before we know we’re ill. That's why the Church encourages frequent confession and repentance -- not only during Reconciliation and Mass, but whenever the Holy Spirit brings a disobedient act, word or thought to our attention. What are called 'venial sins' can be just as deadly in the long haul as mortal sins if not dealt with in the short.

That's why I am so grateful God brings those 'venial' things so often to my attention. The more I learn how sick I am, the more I realize how desperately I need the Great Physician. The more I meditate on Calvary and the reason Christ died, the faster I rush to say the prayer of contrition. As often as I reverently receive the Eucharist, the greater my assurance of His healing power over my sin-sick heart.

And so I am glad for this prayer of contrition given us by the Church: My God, I am sorry for my sins, with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend with your help to sin no more, to do penance and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. Amen

He Knows Our Frame

2011-09-05T12:56:00.000-07:00

John [the Baptist] summoned two of his disciples and sent them to the Lord to ask, "Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?" . . .

And [Jesus] said to them in reply, "Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor have the good news proclaimed to them . . . "

When the messengers of John had left, Jesus began to speak to the crowds about John. ". . . . Then what did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. This is the one about whom scripture says: 'Behold, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, he will prepare your way before you.' I tell you, among those born of women, no one is greater than John . . . .” (Luke 7:19-28).

If I ever doubted the Lord’s compassion for me (and I have), this passage about John the Baptist ought to put those doubts to rest for ever.

I mean, here’s a guy who knew all about Jesus’ miraculous birth and the events of His childhood. After all, John and Jesus were cousins. Surely, John’s mother told him how he leaped in her womb the moment she heard Mary’s greeting (Luke 1:41). Surely John also knew of his own miraculous birth, of the angels who visited his father Zacharias, and then visited his aunt Mary. John knew of his father’s prophecy under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, “And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go before the Lord to prepare His ways, to give to his people the knowledge of salvation . . . .” But there’s more. When John baptized Jesus in the Jordan, he saw the Holy Spirit descend on Jesus in the form of a dove.

It doesn’t get any more supernatural than what John experienced in his relationship with Jesus.

So why did John ask, “Are you the one, or should we keep looking?”

I wonder if John might have been at his lowest ebb. Stuck in a filthy rat-infested dungeon, confused, depressed, lost and probably feeling forsaken, I don’t doubt he wondered, “If you really are the Messiah, why am I in this place? Why don’t you deliver me?”

I can understand his point. I’ve been tossed by similar emotional upheavals more than a few times. And in those times Satan has often dropped into my mind something like: “Is what I have known all these years really true? For if it is, why am I suffering so?”

I’ve read this story in Luke many times. But this time through I spotted something I’d missed before – or at least, had not thought much about. I focused on Jesus’ response to the crowd after He sent away John’s disciples. The Lord didn’t use John as an illustration of weak faith. He didn’t tell the crowd how disappointed He was in John – “who should’ve known better.” Instead, Jesus called John not only prophet of God – a great tribute in and of itself – but He added, “No one on earth is greater than John”(verse 28).

Wow.

Yes, John should’ve known better. But that is not so much the point as the Lord’s compassionate understanding of John’s fear and doubt. Surely, “God knows our frame. He is mindful that we are but dust” (Psalm 103:14).

John should have known better.

And so should I.

And so should you.

But – Oh, how I love the ‘buts’ encapsulated in Biblical truth – but just as Jesus told the crowd how well He thought of John, despite John’s confusion, I like to think Jesus also turns to the crowds of angels and tells them how well He thinks of us – you and I who love Him – even when we are confused, depressed, lost or feeling forsaken.

He knows our frame. He is mindful we are merely dust.

And oh how much He loves us.

Even the Eighty-Second Time

2011-09-02T22:16:00.000-07:00

Indeed, the word of God is living and effective, sharper than any two-edged sword, penetrating even between soul and spirit, joints and marrow, and able to discern reflections and thoughts of the heart. (Hebrews 4:12).

I’ve read the entire New Testament eighty-one times since I started keeping record in 1975. Honestly, I am not boasting, but trying to make an important point. Bear with me a moment longer.

As I prepared for my nightly reading ritual, I opened my Bible and it fell to Luke’s gospel. The first thought that entered my mind as my eye focused on the page heading was, “I'm bored. I want to read something else.”

I know all the stories in Luke. I can quote many passages from memory. I’ve even taught several classes on that gospel.

But just as quickly as that first thought dropped into my mind, another followed: Without fail, each time I have read Luke’s gospel, the Holy Spirit has shown me something new . . . a different perspective of an eternal truth; A necessary reminder of an earlier insight; A nuance I’d not noticed during any of my previous times through the pages. And once in a while He has shown me something that absolutely stunned me with a life-altering revelation.

Eighty-one times I’ve read Luke’s gospel. And eighty-one times I’ve learned something new.

And so the point: The next time you sit down to read your Bible, regardless of the many times you’ve read or heard the stories, don’t ever think the Holy Spirit is unable to give you a new insight, a gracious filling of your cup, a soothing of your fears, or doubts, or confusions. Don’t think He is unable to change your life through His living pages.

The testimonies of men and women throughout 2000 years of Church history attest again and again and again to this truth: the Bible – all of it, from Genesis through Revelation – is truly a living document, able to change lives.

Even on the eighty-second time through.

Only What's Done for Christ will Last

2011-08-30T18:40:00.000-07:00

I published this several years ago. I thought it good to recycle it now:
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. . . for no one can lay a foundation other than the one that is there, namely, Jesus Christ. If anyone builds on this foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, or straw, the work of each will come to light . . . (1 Cor 3:11-13).

From my seat toward the front of the auditorium, I could see Linda’s eyes water. “Has it really been twenty-eight years?” She seemed to ask it more of herself than of those gathered at her retirement ceremony. Decades of conflicts and triumphs, of paperwork piles and project deadlines, of exhilarating new tasks and the lumbering routine of others blended into a half-forgotten dream.

After the framed certificate, the engraved plaque, and the punch and cookies in the foyer, life will move on. Younger employees will step into her varied roles, and the organization will continue with business as usual.

“I thought this day would never come.” She tried to smile. “But here it is.”

While Linda spoke, my mind drifted to the many times I’ve said, “I thought this day would never come”? How many important events passed before I knew they were close upon me? Birthdays, graduations, weddings, births, more weddings, more births. My life has moved almost seamlessly from sunrise to sunset, seasons to years, anticipating one milestone and then another. All the while I’ve been too busy to notice the calendar pages disappear like vapors in the wind.

I don’t often think about my final milestone. I still hope to enjoy many more graduations, weddings and births before I start thinking much about that particular day. Yet, when it comes, will the decades of my life also seem as a brief moment? The conflicts, the joys, the deadlines, the routines . . . I know life will move on without me.

When Linda received her plaque, I wondered what kind I will receive when I stand before the Great Cloud of Witnesses (see Hebrews 12:1). Will it be engraved with the names of those whom I have touched during my service for the Master? Or will it be an empty testimony of misplaced priorities during my earth-bound journey?

As I draw nearer to my sixty-second birthday – 62! Oh, how the years have flown – As I draw near, those questions whisper from the corners of my thoughts with increasing urgency. Life really is shorter than I realize, and everything I now consider so important -- money, popularity, passions, career -- will smolder on that day like charred timbers after a house fire.

When the day I thought would never come finally arrives, I want to hear more than pleasant words at a ceremony. I want to enjoy more than punch and cookies in the foyer. I want to hear from the men and women standing with me before His throne, “Thank you for using your time, your talents, your resources to tell me about the Savior.” And oh, how I want to hear from the lips of the King of Glory, “Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your Lord” (See Matthew 25:21).

Celebration!

2011-08-25T17:34:00.000-07:00

"The Lord your God is in your midst . . . He will rejoice over you with gladness . . . He will sing joyfully because of you, as one sings at festivals" (Zephaniah 3:17).

So I’m reading through Luke 15 and I have an epiphany. A fleeting one, probably – although I hope I can hold onto the excitement that swept over me as I read the three parables in that chapter.

In the first, Jesus used the illustration of a lost sheep to talk about how much the Father loves us. You remember the story. The shepherd left ninety-nine sheep safe in the pasture and set out to search for the one that had strayed. When he found it, he lifted it onto his shoulders and then said something that to me is astonishing: "There is greater celebration in heaven over one sinner who repents than over those who need no repentance."

Celebration. Shouts of joy. Laughter. Dancing. Feasting. That’s what happens among the angels and saints around God’s throne. when even one sinner comes home.

Then the Lord talked of a woman who’d lost her coin. To others, perhaps it would not have been worth making a fuss over, but to her . . . well, she turned her house inside out looking for it. And once again Jesus connected the dots for us: “Come, celebrate with me – for I found my lost coin.”

The call to celebration reaches its climax with the last parable, the one of the lost son – better known as the Prodigal son. I hope you know that story, too. The young man decided living with his father was too inconvenient, his rules archaic and stifling. He wanted to live as he wished, answerable to no one but himself.

So he left. And then the money ran out.

What I like about this story is the young man’s humility and penitent attitude. He didn’t think to go back home and request his rights as a son. Rather, he planned to return and tell his dad, “I have sinned against heaven and in your sight. I am not worthy to be called your son. Make me as one of your hired hands.”

That caught my attention: “I am not worthy to be called your son.”

The way the narrative unfolds, it seems his father didn’t even pay attention to what he said. The father was already starting to celebrate. “Bring the fattened calf,” he shouted. “And my best robe, and put it on my son. He was lost, but now is found. He was dead, but is now alive. Come! Let’s celebrate.”

There is a point in the liturgy of the Eucharist when the priest holds aloft the host and the cup and says, “This is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. Happy are those who are called to His supper.” Thereupon the congregation responds, “Lord, I am not worth to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed.”

After reading the parables in Luke 15, I compared the penitent worshipper during the Mass to what we ought to be doing during the Eucharistic liturgy -- being in the processes of humbly returning to God with such words as “I am not worthy to receive You.”

And I think the Father – already knowing what we are going to say – is not even paying attention. He’s already started celebrating.

Several months ago, during a nursing school graduation, the students played a 1980s song by “Kool and the Gang” to mark their joyous occasion. I thought of it as the realization of God’s celebration swept over me during my reading of this chapter. I doubt it’s what the angels and saints sing when the Church celebrates Mass (frankly, I’m sure they sing something from Handle’s Messiah), but the song's energy and exuberance quickened something inside me, so I searched the internet for Kool and the Gang’s performance. Click here, and you will be linked to a ‘words and music only’ YouTube video. Click here and you’ll be linked to the video (skip through the advertisement by clicking the appropriate button on your screen when you load the video. You can also enlarge the image by clicking on the four arrows in the lower right corner of the YouTube screen).

Celebration!

Think of it! Almighty God celebrates you. And me.

It should stir in us energy. And exuberance.

Oh, I hope my epiphany of that truth lasts until the next Mass I attend. And beyond.

Who Have No Hope

2011-08-21T09:41:00.000-07:00

But we do not want you to be uninformed, brethren, about those who are asleep, so that you will not grieve as do the rest who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who have fallen asleep in Jesus (1 Thessalonians 4:13-14).

When you sit at the bedside of someone you love,

his eyes glazed,

his skin hanging loosely on his skeleton,

his breathing slow

and shallow,

and you know death is days,

maybe hours away . . .

Or when someone who loves you

sits at your bedside,

your eyes glazed,

your skin hanging loosely on your skeleton,

and she knows death is days,

maybe hours away . . .

It is good

for those left behind

to have confidence,

that it can be said of the dying:

“If the earthly tent which is our house is torn down, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For indeed in this house we groan, longing to be clothed with our dwelling from heaven, inasmuch as we, having put it on, will not be found naked. For indeed while we are in this tent, we groan, being burdened, because we do not want to be unclothed but to be clothed, so that what is mortal will be swallowed up by life.”*

Yes, it is good

to do all we can do

to ensure our loved ones know

they need not grieve

as others who have no hope.**

*2 Cor 5:1-4

** 1 Thessalonians 4:13-14

What Can Wash Away My Sin?

2011-08-16T09:29:00.000-07:00

[B]ut if we walk in the Light as He Himself is in the Light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin (1 John 1:7).

Several years ago I showed a woman a photo of a large crucifix – a cross with a figure of Jesus nailed to it. I don’t think I will ever forget her reaction. She physically shuddered, turned her head from the image, and told me to close the book.

It's “gruesome,” she told me. The blood seeping from his side and forehead disturbed her. She preferred the unadorned cross she’d grown accustomed to in the church she attended over the past few decades.

Many people don’t often think about it, but Christianity is a bloody, gruesome religion. But it had to be bloody, for only blood – in this case, the blood of the Innocent One - could atone for, or wash away, the sins of the guilty.

And gruesome it was. Soldiers tied Jesus’ hands to the whipping post and stripped off his robe. Then one of them swung the rock-embedded whips against Jesus’ back, buttocks and legs. Again and again, slicing into His flesh until strips of skin hung from his body. Small capillaries and arteries oozed and spurted blood with each beat of His heart and tracked down His back, His thighs, His legs.

Spurt.

Spurt.

Spurt . . . . The pavement at His feet was moist with dirt and congealed blood.

Spurt.

Spurt . . . until the blood vessels clotted over.

It was a bloody, bloody scene. But it was a God-ordained and utterly necessary scene. Without the shed blood of Jesus, there could be no forgiveness of sins to the penitent.

My sins. Your sins. Your pastor’s sins. The Pope’s sins. Everyone’s sins. As the Holy Spirit warns: All humanity has gone astray. We have each turned to our own way. But God, being rich in mercy, laid all of our sin - and its judgment - on Jesus (see Isaiah 53:6).

Without the bloody death of the Messiah, there would be no hope for absolution in the confessional to the penitent. No hope ever for forgiveness. No hope for eternal life, but instead only a sure judgment and eternal damnation facing us in our grave.

But for the blood of Jesus.

Which is why St. Paul wrote: In [Christ] we have redemption by his blood, the forgiveness of transgressions, in accord with the riches of his grace (Ephesians 1:7). And the Church explains, Redemption comes to us above all through the blood of [Jesus’] cross . . . (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 517). And again: The human heart is . . . . converted by looking upon [Christ] whom our sins have pierced: Let us fix our eyes on Christ's blood and understand how precious it is to his Father . . . (Catechism, 1432).

So knowing this, knowing the bloody, gruesome cost of our salvation, how then ought we live?

Reverently, yes. Obedient to His Word as interpreted by the Church. Of course. But we must not forget that the ability for reverence and obedience results from growing deeper in love with God. Fr. Pedro Arrupe, one time Superior General of the Society of Jesus, wrote:

Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is, falling in love [with Him] in a quite absolute, final way. What you are in love with seizes your imagination; it will affect everything. It will decide what gets you out of bed in the morning, what you will do in the evenings, how you spend your weekends, what you read, what you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude. Fall in love [with God], stay in love, and it will decide everything."

And so, let us prayerfully implore the Holy Spirit each day to help us love God more and more. Growing deeper in love with Him day by day trains our hearts to reverence and obedience – and to ever internalize the answer to the question: What can wash away my sin?

Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

The Fragrance Remains

2011-08-13T11:57:00.000-07:00

“You will see me . . . .” (John 14:19).

My mind wouldn’t rid itself of the memory. Yeshi hurt so badly.

I could do nothing. Nothing to help him.

I stared at my food. Yohanan told me to eat something. I needed my strength. He would return for me, help me take what I wished to his home where I would stay with him and his family. Then he left to meet the others.

“Woman, behold your son,” Yeshi said. And to Yohanan, “Behold, your mother.”

What will I take to their house? What will I leave behind? So many things. So many memories. This table and chair. As solid as when my Yeshi built it, how many years ago? Five? Seven? And the dishes. My beloved Joseph bought them for me when we wed so many decades ago. I still have many of them.

My clothing. The parchments. The walking stick. . . .

But Yeshi. My Yeshi.

“Momma.”

Deep in thought, forcing back my tears, I thought I heard a whisper behind me.

What was it the old man said to me, “A sword will piece your heart”? I never understood what he meant.

I do now.

“Mother.” A little louder.

The voice startled me. And the fragrance. Suddenly the room smelled of, of . . . flowers. Like – yes, like roses. Roses of Sharon.

“Mother.” A command.

I knew that voice. When I turned, color drained from my face. The room spun. If he had not caught me in his arms, I would have fallen.

Still dizzy, I let him hold me. The fragrance of roses rose from his robe. He cupped my chin in his hand and lifted my face to look at him.

“Yeshi!”

“Yeshi! But how?”

He smiled. The same smile he always smiled when he spoke with me. “I was given authority to lay down my life,” he said. “I was given authority to take it up again. Henceforth, he who believes in me will live, even if he dies. And everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.”

I reached for his face, caressed the scars in his forehead. My tears would not stop. “You’re alive! My son. My son. You were dead, but you’re alive.”

“Mother, I must go.” He grasped my arms and held me away from him.

“But . . . .”

“Mary Magdalena and the others are at the tomb. I must meet them.”

“Yeshi! You can’t go. Not now. Not like this . . . .”

“I must. But you will see me again.” He let go of my arms, and his eyes locked with mine. “Momma, I love you.”

Then he was gone. In the time it took for me to blink, he was gone.

But the fragrance . . . the fragrance remains.

Avoiding the Spider

2011-08-11T18:26:00.000-07:00

How can the young walk without fault? Only by keeping your words . . . In my heart I treasure your promise, that I may not sin against you . . . In your laws I take delight; I will never forget your word (Psalm 119: 9, 11, 16).

I didn’t see the spider's web until I nearly ran into it. The thing was virtually invisible. If sunlight hadn’t suddenly glistened off its strands, I would have walked right into it. So there I stood, inches from the biggest, ugliest, hairiest spider I’d ever seen. Its open jaws were at least three inches wide and ready to grab me.

Well, that last remark is hyperbole, however, truth be told, I was glad I wasn’t a hapless bug flitting through the air, totally clueless about the spider’s trap in front of me.

But while I’m on the subject of spiders and webs, in the near-indiscernible world of the supernatural, Satan’s subtleties are often invisible to the natural eye – which is why it’s so incredibly easy to get caught in his web. And most of the time we don’t even realize it is his web we’re caught in until he has devoured our health, wealth, homes, and families.

Sometimes even our lives.

There is a good reason the Holy Spirit inspired St. Peter to write, “Be sober, be vigilant. Your adversary, the devil, roams about seeking someone to devour" (1 Peter 5:8). There is good reason the Holy Spirit inspired Joshua to say, “This book of the law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate on it day and night so that you will be careful to do all the things that are written in it” (Joshua 1:8). And the Psalmist to write, “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path" (Psalm 119:105).

There is no better way, there is no surer way, to avoid Satan’s web than to see the light of God’s word glisten off its strands as a warning: Danger! Don’t go any further.

The Church “has always venerated the divine Scriptures as she venerated the Body of the Lord" (Catechism paragraph 141), and the Catechism of the Catholic Church (para 133) further exhorts us “to learn the surpassing knowledge of Jesus Christ, by frequent reading of the divine Scriptures. Ignorance of the Scriptures is ignorance of Christ.” Thus, it is no wonder Pope Benedict repeatedly challenges the Catholic faithful to “assiduous study of Holy Scripture.”

Whether or not we obey the prophets and the Church who exhort us to read God’s word, Satan remains patiently waiting in his web. Problem is, we won’t see it unless God’s light glistens off the web.

See this link for one of many methods available to make Bible reading a daily habit. (Note to those living in the Tacoma area. I teach a weekly Bible study each Monday evening. Write me if you would like more information: richmaffeobooks@gmail.com).

The Rest of the Story -- Why I am a Catholic Christian

2011-08-06T18:16:00.000-07:00

My July 28 post briefly explained how God led me to my Messiah. This one deals with about how He led me into the Catholic Church. Or, in the words of famed radio newscaster, Paul Harvey -- here is the rest of the story:
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For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways,” declares the Lord (Isaiah 55:8).

My movement in 1972 the Jewish faith of my childhood to faith in Jesus the Jewish Messiah was so profound an experience, I can tell you when it happened, where I was and what I was doing when I committed myself to the Lord and joined the Protestant church.

But I cannot tell you when I knew I belonged in the Catholic Church. That process was more gradual. I didn't know I was moving toward Rome until I opened my eyes and discovered I had arrived.

When some of my Protestant friends found out about my reception into the Catholic Church they asked me why. They’d known me a long time, some more than 30 years. We’d studied Scripture together, attended similar evangelical churches and enjoyed lively debates about our beliefs.

Why did I become a Catholic Christian? Ironically, my answer is rooted in my Protestant experience, and it is with thanksgiving I confess my debt to that experience.

It was within evangelical churches that I learned the necessity of daily repentance. I learned personal holiness is not attained by following a list of rules, but by developing a deep longing to please God. I experienced abiding spiritual fulfillment during worship. I looked forward to Sundays when I could lose myself in adoration of Christ. My pastors and teachers helped me acquire a spiritual hunger for prayer and the charisms of the Holy Spirit. Their unwavering focus on Scripture taught me to love reading and memorizing God’s Word.

I owe an enormous debt to evangelical Protestantism. But I didn’t comprehend the fuller depth and breadth of Christ’s living Presence on earth until I discovered it in the Catholic Church. It was as if for thirty years I held in my hands a glass of water, thinking I had all that Christianity had to offer. Then I turned to see the Pacific ocean stretching toward the horizon and St. Paul’s words flooded my mind, “Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor has entered into the heart of man the things God has prepared for those who love Him” (1 Corinthians 2:9).

As I wrote earlier in my July 28th post, before I became what I call a Jewish Christian, the Holy Spirit brought across my path Christians fluent in the scores of Old Testament Messianic prophesies such as Isaiah 53, Daniel 7, Isaiah 9, and Psalm 22. I know why the Lord did that. I wouldn’t have listened to someone quote New Testament texts to prove Jesus is the Messiah. I would believe only if I could see Him in the Jewish Bible (the Old Testament).

For example, they showed me Isaiah 7 that foretold Messiah’s virgin birth. Psalm 22, pictured His crucifixion. Isaiah 9:6 spoke of a child who would be called “Wonderful, Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace." Daniel 7 prophesied of the “Son of Man” who would receive from the Ancient of Days an eternal dominion.

Then I read the 53rd chapter of Isaiah. The ancient Jewish prophet spoke of Jesus' sacrificial death which paid the penalty for my sins: "But He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all."

After reading and re‑reading the Old Testament Scripture, I suddenly realized the truth. Not only did God love me, but He had planned from as early as Creation to send His Son to bear the punishment my sins – all of our sins – deserve. And by trusting in His sacrificial death in my place, I could be forgiven.

So, on December 25, 1972 I prayed, "God, I believe that Jesus is the Messiah." Not a very long prayer, but God saw my heart and knew I was committing my life and my lifestyle to His control.

In 1972 I didn't understand very much about what commitment to Messiah meant. But I did understand that I needed His forgiveness and His help to change my life. I did understand the simple promise of Scripture: "For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life" (John 3:16).

But my journey continued.

I am convinced that as God knew I would not listen to someone quote for me New Testament texts to prove Jesus is my Messiah, God also knew I would not listen to someone quote the Catechism of the Catholic Church to prove the veracity of the Catholic faith. I needed to see it in my Bible. So the Holy Spirit crossed my path with Catholic Christians who knew Scripture well enough to challenge my basic assumptions about Catholic doctrine – assumptions I’d made while interpreting Scripture through Protestant filters. Their questions led me back to the Bible and, as if reading it for the first time, I began to understand the Biblical basis for Catholic Church teaching.

For example, the Holy Spirit opened my spiritual eyes to the majesty of the Eucharist. The Lord Jesus promised, “I will never leave you or forsake you,” but I interpreted that to mean He is with us through the Holy Spirit’s presence. However, when the Holy Spirit brought Biblical texts I’d memorized into a cohesive unit, I realized – just as the apostles and early Church Fathers realized –the Lord Jesus is also with us physically on the altar in the Eucharist —Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity.

"Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood,” Jesus said, “You have no life in you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day.” (John 6:53-54) Years later, St. Paul instructed the Christians at Corinth, “Is not the cup of thanksgiving for which we give thanks a participation in the blood of Christ? And is not the bread that we break a participation in the body of Christ?” (1 Corinthians 10:16).

Justin Martyr – one of a dozen early Church Fathers well respected among Protestant theologians – understood the Eucharist to be Christ’s very Body and Blood. He wrote: “For we do not receive these as common bread and common drink; but . . . we have learned that the food over which thanks has been given by the prayer . . . is the Flesh and Blood of the same incarnate Jesus.”

Another Catholic doctrine I'd not believed earlier had to do with prayer. Protestants who recite the Nicene Creed will recognize the phrase, “We believe in the Communion of Saints.” God reminded me of Scripture I’d read dozens of times during my years of studying the Bible, and He opened my eyes to the fuller meaning of that Nicene phrase: Christians have the privilege to ask saints on the other side of the grave for intercession.

        The Holy Spirit reminded me of Luke 20:38 in which Jesus told some Jewish scholars, "[God] is not God of the dead, but of the living, for to Him all are alive." Then I remembered the Lord's conversation with Moses and Elijah on the Mount of Transfiguration. Moses died before entering the Promised Land, yet the Lord Jesus engaged in a lengthy discussion with Moses and Elijah. The Rich Man in Luke 16:19-31 interceded to Father Abraham for his brothers, "so that they won't come to this place," and I thought, if the Rich Man interceded, why should I doubt the saints also intercede for us? If I could ask my “living” friends and family for prayer, why could I not also ask our Christian family who are very much alive in heaven to pray?

The Holy Spirit also opened my understanding to the Pope’s role in our Christian life. “You are Peter,” Jesus said to the fisherman, “and upon this rock I will build my church . . . I give you the keys of the kingdom” (Matthew 16:18-19). For thirty-three years, I resisted the Catholic interpretation of this passage – that the Lord selected Peter (and his successors) to lead the Church. Neither did I know virtually all the early Doctors of the Church, such as Irenaeus (189 A.D.), Tertullian (200 A.D.), St. Jerome (383 A.D.) and St. Augustine (402 A.D.) recognized Peter’s authority based on Jesus’ statement in that passage in Matthew.

But when I searched Scripture for the word “keys” I discovered that when it is not used to describe a tool to open something, the word represented authority over something, as in Isaiah 22:22; Revelation 1:18, and 3:7. At that point, my memory took me to John 21:15-17 and I suddenly realized why Jesus specifically commanded Peter to feed His sheep.

But probably nothing divides Protestant and Catholic Christians so deeply as Catholic dogma about Mary. As a Protestant I recoiled from what I interpreted as idolatrous worship of Christ’s mother. I learned, though, there is a difference between what the Catholic Church actually teaches about Mary and what I believed the Church teaches about Mary.

The Church has taught from the earliest centuries Mary is pre-eminent in salvation history. But why not? Scripture calls Eve “mother” of the human race (Genesis 3:20 ). It calls Sarah “mother” to all followers of Christ who “do what is right” (1 Peter 3:6). So why did I have difficulty believing Mary is mother to the Church, since Christians are children of God through faith in her Son?

Early Church Fathers, such as Justin Martyr (155 A.D.), Irenaeus (190 A.D.) and Tertullian (210 A.D.) saw allusions to Mary in Scripture as the second Eve, the one who corrected the error of our first Mother. They saw Mary as the new Ark of the covenant, whose womb cradled the Bread of Life. They saw her as queen of heaven, just as kings of Judah honored their queen mothers (e.g. 1 Kings 2:19, Proverbs 31:1-9, Jeremiah 13:18). Indeed, even Martin Luther – Father of the Protestant Reformation – held traditional Catholic views of Mary, such as her perpetual virginity and her immaculate conception(!), as any cursory internet search will disclose.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches veneration of the Blessed Virgin “differs essentially from the adoration which is given to the incarnate Word and equally to the Father and the Holy Spirit. . . .” (paragraph 971).

Mary should not be worshiped. Venerated, yes. But never worshipped.

I am a Catholic Christian because I met Catholics who caused me to question my long-held interpretation of Scripture. And when I searched the Bible and the early Church Fathers I found sufficient evidence to support historic Catholic teaching.

The Holy Spirit brought me to a point of decision. I could do nothing else but bow my head in obedience to what He had revealed to me. I would say nothing less than St. Peter said to Jesus, "Lord . . . You have the words of eternal life.” (John 6:68)

At the Easter Vigil of 2005, I was received me into the Catholic Church. That evening God took my love for Scripture, prayer and worship and combined it with the Eucharist, the Communion of Saints, the Blessed Virgin, Papal authority and other doctrines and Sacraments God gave the world through the Church.

For that I say with deepest reverence, “Thanks be to God for His indescribable gift!” (2 Corinthians 9:15).

Baseball Cards and Relationships

2011-08-03T16:43:00.000-07:00

I wrote this many years ago. I thought it good to share it with you:
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Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away (James 4:14).

It's been fifty years, but I still remember the fun we had collecting baseball cards. For a few cents my friends and I purchased photos and playing histories of the sport's greatest. I kept mine safely in a shoe box. Whitey Ford, Willey Mays, Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra, Sandy Koufax.... we catalogued them, traded them, "flipped" for them. In fact, flipping for cards was easily one of our favorite pastimes.

It was all in the wrist. If I held the long edges of the card with just the right tension between my thumb and the fingers of my right hand, and then flicked my wrist with just the right snap, the card would twirl to the ground with a fair degree of predictable accuracy. If my "heads" matched my friends "heads" already on the ground, I won. If it mismatched, I lost. I collected a lot of baseball cards by flipping.

But as the years passed, my once compelling interest in baseball cards waned. Other things captured my attention. And without realizing it, my revered Whitey Fords and Mickey Mantles ended up scattered across the bottom of my chest of drawers or on the floor beneath my bed. By the time I was thirteen I no longer owned a baseball card.

Had I known then what I know now about the value of those cards, things would have been different. Flip them to the ground? Never! Leave them scattered around the house? Are you kidding? Some of those cards are worth several hundreds of dollars today. And to think I let mine gather dust beneath my bed.

Older now . . . and hopefully a measure wiser, baseball cards have taught me an important lesson about the value of things often taken for granted. Like relationships.

Marriage, for example.

It used to be I could count on one hand (well, maybe two) the number of failed marriages among my friends. Now I've lost track. Had each couple planned, as they stood before the altar, their future division? I doubt it. Rather, each vowed their life-long commitment, full of promises and romance. But then pressures of work, of raising a family, and who knows what else began taking their toll. And somehow romance and promises wound up collecting dust between the covers of photo albums or scattered like so many nick‑nacks across a passionless house. And without realizing what was happening while it was happening, they flipped their relationships aside like so much valueless clutter.

Relationships.

Like between a parent and child. How many moms and dads have lost touch with the value of their children? When the kids were younger they played ball together, went for picnics, had tea parties. But now there's precious little time to do much as a family. Monday is PTA. Tuesday, scouts. Wednesday is bingo. Thursday, bowling. Friday is whatever. Then comes the weekend, and who can crawl out of bed? And so weeks roll into years, and memories collect dust and cobwebs.

But the saddest of all examples of outgrown relationships is the way many "outgrow" their relationship with God. Where Mass had once been an important part of childhood, where stories of Moses and David, of Paul and Jesus had been the stuff on which they were nurtured, fishing trips, shopping at the Mall, or just sleeping in, now take precedence on Sundays. The value of a once vibrant relationship with the God of the Universe has lost personal meaning for a large and growing number of people.

Relationships can so easily become strained or torn asunder between a mom or dad . . . a spouse . . . a child. Even with God. But the choice, where the choice may still be made, is ours. We can flip our treasures to the ground, or safely protect them. One way or the other, each of us will learn in time, relationships with one another are of much more worth and of more infinite value than things like baseball cards.

Knowing Him Better

2011-07-31T12:47:00.000-07:00

. . . I continue my pursuit toward the goal, the prize of God’s upward calling in Christ Jesus (Philippians 3:14).

Do you ever find yourself wanting to know God better? Would you like God's word to come alive for you? Would you like your time in prayer to be consistently rewarding? These following suggestions may help you revitalize your personal relationship with the Lord Jesus.

1. Regularly read and study the Sacred Scriptures. There is no shortcut to a deepening relationship with Jesus without a growing familiarity with God’s word. No wonder the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC) tells us, “In Sacred Scripture, the Church constantly finds her nourishment and her strength . . . In the sacred books, the Father who is in heaven comes lovingly to meet his children, and talks with them" (CCC 104). Thus, the Church "forcefully and specifically exhorts all the Christian faithful. . . to learn the surpassing knowledge of Jesus Christ, by frequent reading of the divine Scriptures. Ignorance of the Scriptures is ignorance of Christ" (CCC 133).

Consecrate for yourself time each day to read God’s word – even if it is only ten minutes. Follow this link to my suggested reading plan through the Bible in about a year.

2. As you prepare to read the Bible, pray for the Holy Spirit’s illumination. “Prayer” the Church counsels us, “is both a gift of grace and a determined response on our part. It always presupposes effort. The great figures of prayer of the Old Covenant before Christ, as well as the Mother of God, the saints, and he himself, all teach us this: prayer is a battle. Against whom? Against ourselves and against the wiles of the tempter who does all he can to turn man away from prayer, away from union with God . . . The "spiritual battle" of the Christian's new life is inseparable from the battle of prayer" (CCC 2725).

I often use the prayer St. Paul wrote to the Ephesians as a template for my prayer before I read the Scripture: "(I pray) that the eyes of your hearts be enlightened, that you may know what is the hope that belongs to His call, what are the riches of the glory of His inheritance among the holy ones, and what is the surpassing greatness of His power for us who believe" (1:18‑19). Sometimes I will add the psalmist’s prayer, "Lord, open my eyes to see clearly the wonders of your teachings" (Psalm 119:18).

3. Become a scribe. The average adult reads approximately 200 words per minute, but can write only 30 words per minute. The difference is the basis for an important point: Hand copying the Bible into a notebook is, in many ways, like walking along a road instead of driving. We can see much more of the scenery by the roadway as we walk than while we are clipping along at 55 miles per hour. Forcing our minds to slow to what it might consider a snail's pace helps us focus more clearly on God's word ‑ letter by letter, comma by comma.

4. Memorize God’s word. The Scripture itself encourages us to hide God's word in our heart (Psalm 119:11). Anyone who is able to read the Bible is able to memorize portions of it. My wife and I taught 6th grade faith formation children for years, and each class was able to memorize passages of Scripture during the course of our time together. We also have met men and women in their 70s and 80s who memorized large swaths of Bible texts, including several members of the adult Bible study group I teach each Monday evening at our parish.

The study of God's word, bathed in prayer and supplemented by memorization can significantly enhance our relationship with Christ from what might be rote and form into a renewed sense of vibrancy and passion. Indeed, there is precious truth in the statement, "learn to savor how good the Lord is" (Psalm 34:9).

How it all Began

2011-07-28T10:32:00.000-07:00

You can find the "rest of the story" regarding my becoming a Catholic Christian by clicking here.

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But He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all (Isaiah 53:5,6).

Although raised in a Jewish home, the closest I ever came to religion was when I drove past a synagogue. So when I stopped at a traffic light, the thought caught me by surprise: "What if there IS a God?"

Even though I knew nothing about the Bible, and even less about the Church, I did know that, if He existed, He would not approve of my use of drugs and women, thefts and self-centered lifestyle. I would have to change.

But I didn't want to change. So, as the light turned green, I decided the simplest course of action was ignore the question.

But God did not ignore me. Several months later, while walking toward my apartment, I spotted an ant hill along the sidewalk. Hundreds of the little creatures scrambled back and forth in what appeared haphazard motion. Then I remembered from my high school biology class that ants are vital to the ecosystem. Without their irrigation of the soil, much of the earth's plant life would not be possible. That meant ants were part of a precise ecological structure. Structure implied someone who did the structuring. However, by the time I reached my front door I had forced those thoughts from my mind. I knew where they were heading and I didn't want to go there.

For the next two years my life careened in an almost hypnotic flow of careless living. But a nagging emptiness followed me. Something was wrong, although I didn't yet know what it was.

Thinking I needed a change of scenery, I joined the Navy in May 1972. That October, I spent Yom Kippor (the Day of Atonement, the holiest of the Jewish holidays) alone in my barracks, and for the first time in years I looked honestly at myself. I did not like what I saw. My lifestyle – my life – was terribly wrong. Worst of all, I didn't think I could change. I pulled my journal from the shelf and wrote, "God, forgive me for my past sins, and look with tolerance on my future sins."

I knew I was trapped in sin. I thought I could never be free.

Two months later the Navy assigned me to Japan. While in my barracks, a roommate offered me a copy of a book on Biblical prophecy titled, The Late Great Planet Earth. Amazed, I leafed through the pages and read the hundreds of Messianic Prophesies in the Jewish Bible. For example, Isaiah 7 foretold Messiah's virgin birth; Psalm 22, His crucifixion; Jeremiah 31:31-34 of a new covenant (new testament); Daniel 7 of the Son receiving an eternal kingdom, Isaiah 9:6 told of a child who would be called "Wonderful, Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace;"

Then I read the 53rd chapter of Isaiah. The ancient Jewish prophet spoke of Jesus' sacrificial death which paid the penalty for my sins:

"But He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all."

After reading and re-reading the Old Testament Scriptures, I suddenly realized not only did God love me, but because Jesus bore the punishment for my sins, I could be forgiven.

Forgiven of every evil, sinful, rebellious thing I'd ever done. Even the abortion of my baby.

On December 25, 1972 I prayed, "God, I believe that Jesus is the Messiah." Not a very long prayer, but God saw my heart and knew I was committing my life and my lifestyle to His control. I rose from my knees and immediately flushed the marijuana I had in my room down the toilet. The pornographic magazines went into the trash bin and my language got a hefty dose of soap. I began telling others that God had forgiven me of every rotten thing I'd ever done.

In 1972 I didn't understand very much about what commitment to Messiah meant. I didn’t understand (nor would I understand for another 33 years) the fullness of why He established His Church. But I did understand on that day in 1972 that I needed God’s forgiveness, and I needed His help to change my life. I understood – and believed – the simple promise of Scripture: "For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life" (John 3:16).

All About the Heart

2011-07-26T17:37:00.000-07:00

(But) take care not to perform righteous deeds in order that people may see them . . When you give alms, do not blow a trumpet before you . . . When you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, who love to stand and pray in the synagogues and on street corners so that others may see them . . . When you fast, do not look gloomy like the hypocrites (Matthew 6:1-18).

It’s all about the heart. Always has been. God is far less concerned about our outward religion than He is about our interior faith. That’s one reason He castigated the Israelites, “What care I for the number of your sacrifices? . . . Your new moons and festivals I detest; they weigh me down, I tire of the load. When you spread out your hands, I close my eyes to you; Though you pray the more, I will not listen. Your hands are full of blood! Wash yourselves clean! Put away your misdeeds from before my eyes; cease doing evil” (Isaiah 1:11-16).

Centuries later, the Lord faced the same attitude in some Pharisees who enjoyed the homage of those in the synagogue, the deference of the average citizen, and to be honored guests at special dinners, but their hearts were full of robbery, deceit and uncleanness (Matthew 23:7,27).

And so, as I read that passage in Matthew 23, I wondered how often the Lord Jesus encounters similar attitudes among some of His children today. Whether praying, worshiping, and especially receiving the Eucharist, I suspect God is as unhappy with modern-day worship without a commensurate change of heart as He was in Isaiah’s day.

God hasn’t changed. He still looks for people with an interior faith, who perform religious acts for no other motive other than they love God and want to please Him by their obedience.

It’s all about the heart. Always has been. Always will be.

Our Anchor

2011-07-22T20:45:00.000-07:00

For whatever was written previously was written for our instruction, that by endurance and by the encouragement of the scriptures we might have hope (Romans 15:4).

I have read many times through the book of Ezekiel. And just about each time I read chapter 37, my spirit lifts. It’s the “Dry Bones” chapter. You might want to take time to read it because God has a message there for you and me.

Have despair and hopelessness, those twins of darkness, ever gripped your gut so tightly you thought you couldn’t breathe? If you haven’t yet experienced it, you likely will. Sometimes life can be ferocious, and not many escape its fury. An accident or sudden illness takes a beloved spouse or child. They’re gone before we can say, “I love you,” one last time. A natural disaster wipes away everything we own. A fire chars a lifetime of expectations and memories.

We can see the Twins each night in the faces of men and women as their stories unfold on TV. We can hear them say it, perhaps not as eloquently as Ezekiel, but as unmistakably: “Our bones are dried up and our hope is gone; we are cut off”' (Ezekiel 37:11)

But even in the devastation, is our hope gone? Are we cut off forever from God? Read this chapter and discover what Israel discovered: God breathes life into dead bones. No matter how tight the Twins’ grip, when our hope rests squarely on the Lord’s mercy, tragedy cannot crush us. Disaster cannot destroy us. In this world we will certainly have tribulation. But we can take courage. Christ has overcome the world.

That’s not simply a nice platitude. It is our sure anchor.

When Shall We Be Salt Again?

2011-07-19T12:20:00.000-07:00

For the name of God is blasphemed among the Gentiles because of you . . . “ (Romans 2:24).

You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt has become tasteless . . . it is good for nothing anymore, except to be thrown out and trampled under foot by men (Matthew 5:13).

With the moral decay sweeping America nearly at sonic speed, and the stunning silence of Christian leaders in general, and of Catholic leaders in particular, this Vatican document should raise a critical question in our hearts: Specifically, don’t we realize our silence – even (God forbid!) our tacit approval in the face of such moral depravity – is a great scandal? And our failure to stand for righteousness a stench in the nostrils of God?

Here is a portion of that Church document titled, Gaudium et Spes, Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World Second Vatican Council, 1965

Paragraph 19 – Kinds of Atheism and Its Causes

19 . . . . Without doubt those who willfully try to drive God from their heart and to avoid all questions about religion, not following the dictates of their conscience, are not free from blame. But believers themselves often share some responsibility for this situation. For, in general, atheism is not present in people's minds from the beginning. It springs from various causes, among which must be included a critical reaction against religions and, in some places, against the Christian religion in particular. Believers can thus have more than a little to do with the rise of atheism. To the extent that they are careless about their instruction in the faith, or present its teaching falsely, or even fail in their religious, moral, or social life, they must be said to conceal rather than to reveal the true nature of God and of religion. (Underline is my emphasis)

While we spend our time debating philosophy and social justice issues, our world is putrefying around us. And multiple millions of souls are being lost.

Forever.

Isn’t it time for laity and leaders to stand for Christ, become salt of the earth, and stop the madness? For if we do not, the second part of Christ’s warning will be the sure result.

Nourishment for the Battle

2011-07-16T09:54:00.000-07:00

How sweet are Your words to my taste! Yes, sweeter than honey to my mouth! (Ps 119:103)

It will help if you read the entire chapter of 1 Samuel 14 to get a good handle on the context. Israel was in the midst of a war against their long-time oppressors, the Philistines. Through miraculous intervention, many Philistines fell in the ensuing battles, but for reason known only to King Saul, he ordered his army not to eat anything until they’d completely beaten their enemy. Jonathan, Saul’s son, hadn’t heard the command.

We pick up this story in verse 28:

“Then one of the soldiers told him, "Your father bound the army under a strict oath, saying, 'Cursed be any man who eats food today!' That is why the men are faint." Jonathan said, "My father has made trouble for the country. See how my eyes brightened when I tasted a little of this honey. How much better it would have been if the men had eaten today some of the plunder they took from their enemies. Would not the slaughter of the Philistines have been even greater?"

The following analogy is not perfect, but close enough to give us reason to pause. Scripture is clear about the deadly battle Christians face every day of our lives. And it is equally clear we do not fight this raging war against flesh and blood, put against spiritual forces (see, for example, Ephesians 6). Scripture also tells us weapons of steel and iron are useless in this fight. We must use spiritual weapons against a spiritual foe (see 2 Corinthians 10).

Satan, our long-time spiritual oppressor, knows if we don’t nourish ourselves on spiritual food, we'll become weakened and unable to effectively fight the good fight. That’s why he deceives us into believing we don’t need the daily honey of Scripture, along (of course) with prayer, proper disposition to the Sacraments, and frequent fellowship with other Christians.

Truth is, if anyone tells us we do not need to read the Scriptures, to study them, memorize them, imbibe them, they are not speaking God's truth and are -- whether innocently or purposefully -- putting us at risk for spiritual injury, imprisonment and even death.

The Psalmist said, “Taste and see that the Lord is good” (Psalm 34). So reader, pick up your Bible and read. Gain your nourishment for the daily battle.

Can Canned Prayers be Spiritual?

2011-07-13T09:15:00.000-07:00

I wrote this several years ago. I thought it good to post it here.
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. . . Lord, teach us to pray . . . (Luke 11:1)

I don't know how I lived in such embarrassing ignorance about prayer for so long. For the first thirty-two years of my Christian walk I believed the only prayers God really listens to are spontaneous, unique and unformatted prayers. I also believed those who recite scripted prayers - for example, prayers from books – did little more than mouth empty words.

Yes, I really believed that. And that is why I am grateful for the question that toppled one of my longest held prejudices like the stone in Goliath's forehead.

I had just finished thanking God for my lunch when the thought poked at me: "Did you mean what you just said?" The question me off guard and I rehearsed the prayer in my mind: "Lord, I thank you for this food. Bless it to my body for health, that I might serve."

Yes, I meant it. I was still unsure why the Lord asked it, but when the next question filtered through my mind "How often do you pray that prayer?" I knew precisely where He was taking me. I use those same words - or words very similar -- each time I sit down to eat. Day after day.

Then the Lord pressed forward, "What choruses did you sing last Sunday morning?"

As I began to list them I realized choruses are prayers of adoration or supplication. Each time I sing those lyrics, week after week, I sing what could be considered ‘canned’ prayers.

That's when the stone in my forehead knocked me to my knees. Why had I believed scripted or "canned" prayers, like those in prayer books, are less meaningful than spontaneous ones? My mind raced to the Psalms. Jews and Christians have prayed them from the time of David. And what of those offered to God by spiritual giants of the Church such as St. Augustine, St. Francis of Assisi, Charles Wesley and A. W. Tozer?

For example, when offered from my heart, doesn't Tozer's prayer carry
a sweet savor to the Father? I think so:

Lord, I have heard a good word inviting me to look away to You and
be satisfied. My heart longs to respond, but sin has clouded my vision
till I see You but dimly. Be pleased to cleanse me in Your own
precious blood, and make me inwardly pure, so that I may with unveiled
eyes gaze upon You all the days of my earthly pilgrimage.

Or this one by Wesley?:

I am no longer my own, but Yours. Put me to what You will, rank me
with whom You will; put me to doing, put me to suffering; let me be
employed for You or laid aside for You, exalted for You or brought low
for You; let me be full, let me be empty; let me have all things, let
me have nothing; I freely and heartily yield all things to Your
pleasure and disposal.

Or St. Augustine?:

Narrow is the mansion of my soul; [please] enlarge it, that You may
enter in. It is ruinous; [please] repair it. It has that within which must
offend Your eyes; I confess and know it. But who shall cleanse it? or
to whom should I cry, [except to] Thee? Lord, cleanse me from my secret
faults, and spare Thy servant from the power of the enemy.

Or St. Francis?:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let
me sow love, Where there is injury, pardon Where there is doubt, faith, Where there is despair, hope, Where there is darkness, light, Where there is sadness, joy. O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to
console, not so much to be understood as to understand, not so much to
be loved, as to love; for it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, it is in dying that we awake to eternal life.

As with spontaneous prayer, some ‘canned prayers’ can be exquisitely beautiful expressions of devotion and adoration of the Father.

Thirty-two years is a long time to have lived in error about something so important as prayer. I can only wonder what other foolish ideas cloud my vision of the Holy One - which is why I often now pray what I might have considered at one time a "canned" prayer:

Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, please give me a Spirit of wisdom and revelation so that I may know You better. I pray also that the eyes of my heart may be enlightened so that I may know the hope to which You have called me, the riches of Your glorious inheritance in the saints, and Your incomparably great power toward us who believe. (From Ephesians 1).

The Centurion

2011-07-09T13:16:00.000-07:00

Then they brought Him to the place Golgotha, which is translated, Place of a Skull (Mark 15:22).

I haven’t slept for two days. His eyes still haunt me.

It began when the governor handed me the placard.“Nail it above his head when you’re done crucifying him” Pilate ordered. I smirked when I read it. “Jesus the Nazarene, King of the Jews.”

Some ‘King,’ I thought.

I hated my assignment to this dung-hole called Palestine. I was hot, thirsty and dripping sweat when we finally reached the hilltop. And not a little angry.

We nailed him to the cross and hoisted it upright. He groaned as it rocked back and forth before settling into the hole we’d dug for it. I set soldiers around the site perimeter for protection, while I sat a few yards from the crosses. And watched. And waited.

And then remembered the placard.

I cursed under my breath, pushed myself to stand and grab a ladder. I didn’t care that the top rung bounced off his shoulder as I climbed toward the top. When I was at eye level I stopped, sneered at him and shoved the placard in front of his face.

“What d’ya think, Jew? Quite the king, are ya?”

I spit at him. My saliva dripped from his cheek and caught in his beard. How I despised that Jew.

And that’s when I saw his eyes. They didn’t look at me. They looked through me. Deep into my soul. I froze, unable to move or even look away. His eyes, they weren’t angry. Or vengeful. Or mean. They were, how can I describe it, they were – love. And sadness . . . sadness not for himself, but sad it seemed for me.

Love and sadness. For me?

We looked at each other a long time, until he seemed to free me from his gaze. I slowly climbed the last two rungs, hammered the placard above his head, and quickly descended. I avoided his eyes as I passed him.

An hour crawled into two. Then three. I wouldn’t look at him, except to steal a glance from time to time. But our eyes never locked again. They didn’t have to.

Four hours. Five. At the sixth hour he suddenly cried out so loudly, so sorrowfully, it startled me to my feet: “Eloi, Eloi, Lama Sabacthani.” Then he trumpeted a shout of . . . of victory – more victorious than I’d ever heard even our most decorated soldiers shout on the battlefield. His words pierced the heavens: “It is finished.”

I watched him release his last breath, slump forward – his body held only by the nails – and die.

It was then I remembered his eyes. I still remember them.

And I knew, I know . . . “Surely, this man was the Son of God.”*

*Mark 15:39

Thank You for Carrying Your Cross

2011-07-06T20:35:00.000-07:00

Therefore since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us ² and persevere in running the race that lies before us while keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader and perfecter of faith. For the sake of the joy that lay before him he endured the cross, despising its shame, and has taken his seat at the right of the throne of God. Consider how he endured such opposition from sinners, in order that you may not grow weary and lose heart (Hebrews 12:1-3, NAB).

I heard the crowd’s angry shouts and curses before I saw them. As I drew closer, I watched them throw dirt in the air and shake their fists overhead.

Soldiers lined the road on either side to keep them at bay. I pushed through the mob to get a better look at the reason for the excitement. Then I saw him. The prisoner was bloodied worse than I’d ever remembered seeing others on their way to the Hill. In his case, someone had woven a thorn branch into a crown and jammed it into his forehead. Blood caked around his eyes and cheeks.

He stumbled under the weight of his cross, caught himself, took a few more steps, then fell headlong. The cross fell with him and bounced off his back with a dull thud. Two guards picked up the cross. Another pulled the prisoner erect and laid it back onto his shoulder.

From the jeers, I guessed him to be a terrible criminal. But I had business in the city, and so I began to push my way back into the crowd when a shout broke out again. I turned just in time to see the man fall once more to the dirt.

“You!” A soldier pointed his spear at me. My stomach churned.

“Me?” I nearly whispered.

“Get over here,” he barked.

I froze.

“Hey! You deaf? Get over here!” He made a move toward me, but I hurried out of the crowd and went to him. He grabbed the cross from the ground, lifted it and shoved it at me.

“Carry this for him.”

I knew better than to argue. I laid the crossbeam across my right shoulder. Meanwhile, two other soldiers pulled the prisoner back to his feet and shoved him onward. I was thankful the cross came between him and my line of sight. I began walking toward the Hill alongside him.

“Thank you for carrying my cross,” I heard him say a moment later.

I didn’t answer. It wasn’t my idea to help him. If the soldier hadn’t ordered me, I’d have been on my way into Jerusalem.

“Thank you for carrying my cross,” he said again, a little louder.

“Listen,” I shot back. “This wasn’t my idea. The soldier made me do it.”

“I know,” he said. Then he added, kindly, “Thank you for carrying my cross.”

We walked in silence for a while. I tried to ignore the mob.

“Would you move the cross to your other shoulder so you can see me?”

But I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t want to be here. The less I participated in this cursed matter the better. And then I thought, “He’s about to die. What could it hurt?” So I readjusted the beam to my other shoulder. And I looked at him.

He smiled. And we continued toward the Hill.

We didn’t speak further. We just walked. Slowly. Every now and again we looked at each other. I remember his eyes. Kind. Gentle. Not at all what I would expect from so terrible a criminal.

Oddly, the burden on my shoulder seemed a little lighter the more often I looked at him.

When we at last reached the hilltop, two soldiers grabbed the cross from me. Two others threw the prisoner down onto the wood and prepared to hammer spikes into his flesh. I turned to leave, but before I could go, the man smiled at me and said once again, “Thank you for carrying my cross.”

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In my life experience I have often watched helplessly as life thrusts us against our will to carry a cross. Terrible sickness. Gut-ripping divorce. Unspeakable loneliness. Darkening depression. Agonized death of a beloved.

And there, in the cavernous recesses of our brokenness, we hear words that almost seem to mock us, “Thank you for carrying your cross.”

“Thank you?” we nearly shout. “Thank you? This is not my idea. I never wanted this cursed cross laid on my shoulders.”

“I know,” He answers. “Thank you for carrying your cross.”

For a while we walk in silence. The cross, heavy on our shoulders, obscures our view of the Lord.

“Will you look at Me?” He asks.

Some of us try to ignore Him. The cross hurts too badly. But some of us, in time, do look at Him. And our look becomes a gaze.

“Thank you for carrying your cross,” we hear Him whisper.

The burden never leaves. It lingers with each passing week, each passing year, year after year. But we discover as we journey together toward the New Jerusalem, the longer we gaze at Jesus, the lighter our burden seems.

Especially when we hear Him say from time to time, “Thank you for carrying your cross.”