Category: Prayer

  • The Second Sunday in Lent

    The Second Sunday in Lent

    Today’s readings

    Perhaps you recall last week’s Gospel reading, in which Jesus, having been baptized by Saint John the Baptist, was prompted and led by the Spirit into the desert for forty days and forty nights. He fasted and prayed and near the end of it, he was tempted by Satan. It’s a vivid image. Today’s Gospel has Jesus, on the way to Jerusalem and his death, take Peter, James, and John up a mountain and is transfigured before them. This is also a very vivid image. These images are so vivid, in fact, that they are presented on the first and second Sundays of Lent every single year. So the Church, I think, is giving us a framework for Lent and the spiritual life to which we should pay attention.

    There’s a connection between these two stories, these two images, that I have been reflecting on this week. It’s interesting that Satan waited until the end of the forty days of Jesus’ fast, when the Gospel says Jesus was hungry. That had to be the understatement of the millennium if Jesus fasted forty days and nights! But the point is that Satan waits until we are at a low point, just like Jesus was feeling all the physical and psychological effects of fasting so long. Then he makes his move to tempt us. When we are at a low point, we are more easily influenced by temptation.

    And that begins a cycle that I think we can all understand and perhaps relate to. I’m guessing most of us have experienced it ourselves. We are at a low point, so temptation comes to us. Without our strength, we give in to temptation. The Tempter lies to us, and promises things that he ultimately cannot and will not deliver, or tells us things about ourselves that are not true. Jesus was tempted with bread, immunity from harm, and all the kingdoms of the world. Satan has no power over any of this. He has no power, ultimately, over us, because his main weapons, sin and death, have already been overcome by the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Satan is a liar, but because we are at a low point, we believe the lies. Then, when we give in to the lies, Satan convinces us of another whopper of a lie, and that is that we are unworthy of God’s love and mercy. Which makes us feel even lower, so we get more temptation, and so on and so on and so on.

    But the Transfiguration gives us the foretaste and promise of what God is doing to break this sad cycle. First, as we see in the figures of Moses and Elijah who appear with Jesus Transfigured, God gives us the guidance of the Law and the Prophets. In these days, that means the guidance of the Church, who proclaims the Word and provides access to the Sacraments which provide healing and guidance and life.

    Then God takes our brokenness, our sin and transgression, the sickness of our spirit battered by the Tempter, and he transfigures it. He re-creates us into the glorified people we were created to be, so that we can be caught up in God’s life forever and live with him for eternity. Finally, in the Transfiguration, God promises us that we, who are worth far more than the passing things that Satan promises us, have hope of the Resurrection. Just as Jesus’ Transfiguration was a foreshadowing of the glorified body of his Resurrection, so it is for us a foreshadowing of the life of grace that we will inherit if we follow Jesus up that mountain.

    The cycle of temptation is a dirty, rotten thing. It eats at us all the time and invites us to lower the bar and accept the lies that Satan offers. But the Transfiguration proclaims that that kind of life is not what we were created for, and frankly a life not worth living. But through the disciplines of Lent, turning back to Christ, letting him interrupt the cycle of sin and shame in our lives, we can be transfigured into glory. That’s our real promise, and it’s made by the One who never lies.

    So hang in there on your Lenten promises. If you haven’t started, it’s not too late. All of our penance is turning down Satan’s lies in favor of God’s promises. And God is the One who keeps his promises.

  • Saturday of the First Week in Lent

    Saturday of the First Week in Lent

    Today’s readings

    So, there’s our mission statement for Lent: “Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect.” Our righteousness needs to exceed that of everyone else, or we will be missing out on the kingdom of God.

    So how far do we go with that? Love our enemies? Pray for those who persecute us? I mean, that’s real easy to hear until we actually think about doing it, isn’t it? Those people who gossip about us, cut us off in traffic, make a ruckus in our neighborhoods until all hours of the night, tell off-color jokes in social situations – well it’s nice to hold onto a grudge against them, isn’t it? And are we really supposed to be forgiving of terrorists, and all those people who hate us and our way of life?

    Well, yes we are. We are if we want to be called children of our heavenly Father. And who doesn’t want that? Who knows: maybe when we stop letting them irritate us and instead begin to pray for them and even forgive them, maybe then we will start seeing them in a new light. They might not change, but we will, and we need to be concerned about ourselves – our relationship with God – that’s what’s really at stake in all these situations.

    Who do I need to forgive today?

  • Friday of the First Week in Lent

    Friday of the First Week in Lent

    Today’s readings

    Today’s readings remind us that Lent is no time for “business as usual.” It’s not enough for us to merely claim to be righteous, because righteousness, literally a right relationship, means that righteous actions must back our lofty words. And so today we are called to a righteousness that surpasses the scribes and Pharisees, a righteousness that goes beyond our words and our reputations and what we want people to think about us. The righteousness that Jesus calls us to today is a righteousness that starts where everything must, and that is in the heart.

    Today’s Gospel comes from the sobering “but I say to you” section of Matthew’s Gospel. Here, Jesus reiterates the teachings of Moses and then “kicks them up a notch.” That means that harsh words, grudges, anger, backbiting, gossiping and slander share equal dishonor with outright murder. They all, Jesus tells us, violate the fifth commandment, because they all start with the same murderous inclination of the heart. The one who has harbored these evil thoughts and actions must repent of them and seek reconciliation before offering his or her gift at the altar, or the offering will be tainted, ruined, and ultimately rendered sacrilegious.

    Ezekiel’s prophecy in the first reading is good news for those of us who have gone astray. His prophecy holds out the possibility of a second chance for us sinners and calls us to a fundamental change of life. Even if we have been known for our wicked deeds, we have the opportunity to repent and change our hearts and lives.

    The Psalmist today rejoices in God who is trustworthy with his mercy and forgiveness. In this time of Lenten repentance, we can have confidence in our God who longs to bring us back:

    For with the Lord is kindness
    and with him is plenteous redemption;
    And he will redeem [all of us]from all [our] iniquities.

  • Thursday of the First Week in Lent

    Thursday of the First Week in Lent

    Today’s readings

    During this first week of Lent, our Liturgies of the Word are teaching us about the Lenten disciplines: fasting, almsgiving and prayer. On Tuesday, we heard the Lord’s prayer, and today we hear the prayer of Esther and Jesus’ injunction to persistence in prayer.

    I love the story of Esther, and as I often tell people, you should read the entire book of Esther from the Bible (it’s not very long). It reminds us that we need a Savior. Esther’s adoptive father Mordecai was a deeply religious man. His devotion incurred the wrath of Haman the Agagite, who was a court official of King Ahasuerus of Persia. Mordecai refused to pay homage to Haman in the way prescribed by law, because it was idolatry. Because of this, Haman developed a deep hatred for Mordecai, and by extension, all of the Israelite people. He convinced King Ahasuerus to decree that all Israelites be put to death, and they cast lots to determine the date for this despicable event.

    Meanwhile, Esther, Mordecai’s adopted daughter, is chosen to fill a spot in the King’s harem, replacing Queen Vashti. Esther, however, never had revealed her own Israelite heritage to the King. She would, of course, be part of the extermination order. Mordecai came to Esther to inform her of the decree that Haman had proposed, and asked her to intercede on behalf of her own people to the King. She was terrified to do this because court rules forbade her to come to the king without an invitation. She asked Mordecai to have all of her people fast and pray, and she did the same. The prayer that she offered is beautifully rendered in today’s first reading.

    Esther knew that there was no one that could help her, and that it was totally on her shoulders to intercede for her people. Doing this was a risk to her own life, and the only one that she could rely on was God himself. Her prayer was heard, her people were spared, and Haman himself was hung from the same noose that had been prepared for Mordecai and all his fellow Israelites. Next Monday evening is the beginning of the Jewish feast of Purim, which is a festive observance of this biblical story.

    God hears our own persistent prayers. We must constantly pray, and trust all of our needs to the one who knows them before we do. We must ask, seek and knock of the one who made us and cares for us deeply. Prayer changes things, and most of all, it changes us. It helps us to rely on God who gives us salvation through Jesus Christ, the One who shows us how to ask, seek, and knock.

  • The First Sunday in Lent

    The First Sunday in Lent

    Today’s readings

    During the Easter Vigil Mass, less than forty days from now, we will be asked three very important questions: Do you reject Satan? And all his works? And all his empty show? The response to each of these questions, of course, is “I do,” and we are called to answer them so that we can remind ourselves of the promises that were made at our Baptism and to recommit ourselves to the single-mindedness our faith requires. We see in today’s Liturgy of the Word first the consequences of forgetting these promises, and then the dedication that keeping them requires.

    The first reading gets to the root of the true nature of sin. The man and the woman, that is, our first parents, have been given everything they could ever need or hope for. They were, in fact, made in God’s image and likeness, which gives them an exalted place in all creation. All of the creatures of the earth and all of the plants have been given to them as food, except for the one tree, the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. They are fine and happy and even care-free when they follow God’s command. But, as often happens, eventually everything they could ever hope for is not nearly enough.

    Along comes the cunning serpent, and he convinces the woman, who convinces the man, that if they eat of the tree, they would know everything. So they eventually decide that they need to know everything more than they need to know God, and they eat of the rotten fruit, and with it come all the consequences of a life of sin. The care-free days are gone, and they need to cover themselves with fig leaves. They fear God’s wrath, and hide from him. They have unleashed the horrible cycle of grasping and hiding: longing for more than they need, they grasp at what they should not have; taking what they cannot handle, they hide from the God who is their creator and maker. They have decided they didn’t need God, but find out when it’s too late that God is the only one who can help them.

    Repeat the cycle millions of times throughout the ages: grasping and hiding, and you have the true nature of original sin. We inherit from our first parents the desire to grasp for more than we need and more than we can handle, then we get from that the fear that comes with receiving what we should not have and we have to hide from the One who is our only hope. All of sin is grasping and hiding.

    And so Satan, cunning serpent that he is, tests Jesus in the desert. Jesus submits to the temptation because that is the only way he can be one with all of us tortured and tempted souls. Satan promises Jesus more than he needs and hopes he will forget who he is, and grasp for it and end up hiding from God, but Jesus sees through the tempter’s empty show, and resists to show us that there is a way out of calamitous desperate cycle of grasping and hiding.

    Satan tells Jesus he can stop hungering if he would just turn the stones into bread. The Son of God could certainly do so, and then he wouldn’t be hungry any more. He wants Jesus to decide that he doesn’t need God the Father to give him what he hungers for and to grasp at what would fill him up. But Jesus quotes the scripture saying that bread alone won’t fill up the hungers of the human heart.

    But Satan can quote Scripture too, and he tempts him to throw himself off the parapet of the temple, saying that God would certainly send angels to take care of him. He wants Jesus to decide that he can be reckless and ignore the consequences of tempting God, and to grasp at eternity in the vain hope of getting there without God. But Jesus knows his Father is trustworthy and does not need to prove it, and should never be tested.

    So now Satan brings out the heavy artillery. He plays on the very human desire to have it all. Jesus need not wait on God’s providence, Satan himself could give him all the kingdoms of the world. All Jesus has to do is grasp at what he does not need and worship the one who cannot save. And Jesus knows that worshiping anyone other than God is foolishness, and that it’s not worth having everything if you give up your soul to get it.

    Grasping and hiding, that’s what the devil wants for us. What God wants for us is giving and trusting. If we give ourselves to him, we can trust in God’s goodness to provide everything that we really need, and way more than we could ever hope for.

    But giving and trusting is much harder than grasping. Because we have all sorts of hungers. Hunger for foods we do not need to eat. Hunger for relationships that lead us to bad places and away from God and community. Hunger for self-worth that causes us to work ourselves to death. Hunger for euphoria that leads us to all sorts of addictions. Maybe we can’t turn stones into bread, but we grasp at things we do not need all the time.

    And we have this idea that immortality is ours for the taking. We may not throw ourselves off the parapet of the temple, but we throw ourselves into making poor investments or gambling or get-rich-quick schemes thinking that there will always be a way to get out of the mess tomorrow. We throw ourselves into risky behavior in driving faster than we should, or drinking, or overeating – in so many ways we grasp at eternity thinking we will never die.

    But maybe most of all we want all the things we do not have and maybe cannot have or should not have. We want the latest gadgets, we want the biggest houses, we want the most money, we want it all. And there are lots of easy ways to get it if we are willing to sell our souls. Maybe we’re not actually worshiping Satan, but it definitely isn’t worshiping God.

    At the root of our sinfulness is the thought that we do not need God. That we can get what we want by grasping at things beyond us. And then we end up in just the same place as our first parents, all over again, hiding from God lest he find out we have tried to cheat him out of what he wants to give us anyway.

    The antidote to grasping and hiding is letting go – giving of ourselves and trusting that God will give us what we need. That can be the treasure of Lent for us. In fasting, we can let go of the idea that we can provide what is necessary for our survival. God can feed our hungers much better than we can. In almsgiving, we can let go of the idea that everything is ours if we would just worship the one who cannot give us what we truly need. God gives us what’s really necessary in life, and also life eternal. And in prayer, we can let go of the cycle of grasping and hiding and return to God in trust and love.

    David the Psalmist knew that he had sinned greatly in grasping for what he could not have. And so the Psalm he sings today is a model for us of letting go of all that and trusting in God’s grace to give us what we truly need:

    A clean heart create for me, O God,
    and a steadfast spirit renew within me.
    Cast me not out from your presence,
    and your Holy Spirit take not from me.
    Give me back the joy of your salvation,
    and a willing spirit sustain in me.

  • Friday after Ash Wednesday

    Friday after Ash Wednesday

    Today’s readings

    Sometimes people say they aren’t giving up something for Lent, they’re just going to try to do “something positive.” I think that’s a little permissively vague, to be honest. I usually tell people it doesn’t just have to be one or the other. In fact, the Church teaches that it shouldn’t just be one or the other. Today’s Liturgy of the Word makes it clear that it very definitely should be both.

    Fasting is important because it helps us to see how blessed we are. It is important because it helps us to realize that there is nothing that we hunger for that God can’t provide. Fasting teaches us, once again, that God is God and we are not. This is important for all of us independent-minded modern-day Americans. We like to be in charge, in control, and the fact is that whatever control we do have is an illusion. God is in control of all things, even when it seems like we are in chaos. Fasting teaches us that we can do without the things we’ve given up, and that God can provide for us in much richer ways. So, as I preached on Wednesday, we have to give up something meaningful, perhaps harmful attitudes, or treating the people in our lives badly. Fasting is absolutely essential to having an inspiring, life-changing Lent, and I absolutely think that people should give things up for Lent.

    But giving something up for Lent does not excuse us from the obligation to love our neighbor. This falls under the general heading of almsgiving, and along with fasting and prayer, it is one of the traditional ways of preparing our hearts for Easter during Lent. We might be more mindful of the poor, contributing to a food pantry or a homeless shelter or relief organization. But perhaps more meaningfully, we might reach out by serving in some capacity, like volunteering at a food pantry, or helping out at a shelter. We also might give the people closest to us in our lives a larger portion of the love that has been God’s gift to us, in some tangible way. Today’s first reading reminds us that fasting to put on a big show is a sham. Fasting to bring ourselves closer to God includes the obligation of almsgiving and prayer. Together, these three facets of discipleship make us stronger Christians and give us a greater share of the grace that is promised to the sons and daughters of God.

  • Friday of the Fifth Week in Ordinary Time

    Friday of the Fifth Week in Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    “He makes the deaf hear and the mute speak.”

    This is good news for us, even if we can hear perfectly and speak without impediment. It is good news because we might just have to admit that we hear selectively and speak impetuously on occasion, right? We have to read this Gospel reading with attention to our spiritual lives in order for its message to live in our hearts.

    Maybe Solomon in our first reading (and the first readings the last couple of days) could have turned to God for healing from deafness. If he had, maybe he would have heeded the Lord’s command not to marry into the pagan families of the land and pick up their customs. Then he wouldn’t have lost all but one of the tribes of Israel for his family and splintered the nation.

    But it’s not just Solomon, not just the deaf mute, not just the Pharisees who need to have their hearing and speech healed. To those who turn a deaf ear to their family, or to the cry of the poor, Jesus says, “Ephphatha!” To those who sometimes gossip, or who have stuck their foot in their mouth in a social setting, or who have spoken ill of others, Jesus says “Ephphatha!” Jesus opens up the ears and mouths of those who turn to them so that they can hear the truth and proclaim it.

    What is the word we need to hear today? What is God saying to us? What words do we need to speak today? When should we be silent? Today we all pray that Jesus’ word of healing – “Ephphatha!” – would help us deaf ones hear and mute ones speak.

  • Saturday of the Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

    Saturday of the Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    In our Gospel reading today, Jesus offers the Apostles an opportunity. They had been so busy, they had no opportunity to eat, let alone rest. They had just come from the mission he sent them out on back in Thursday’s Gospel reading. So he invites them on retreat: “Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while.” He gives them a chance to recharge, to rest and grow. Meanwhile, Jesus continued the ministry of preaching and teaching.

    I think that opportunity for rest is one that we often neglect in our daily lives. Like the apostles, we have so many things that demand our attention: the demands of family, work, and community. We need that sabbath rest in order to recharge, rest, and grow. If we neglect it long enough, we end up burnt out and bitter, not helpful to our salvation, or the good of those we are trying to serve and live with. So today, we come to be fed by the Eucharist and nourished in prayer; we come to receive the gifts that we need to live our lives and serve those we are meant to serve.

    None of us is meant to do what we are put on earth to do all by ourselves. Our Lord wants to give us what we need. That’s why he told the apostles on Thursday to “take nothing for the journey but a walking stick – no food, no sack, no money in their belts.” If they packed everything they’d ever need, they would be burdened carrying it all, and, they wouldn’t need him. But the only way they really could do what he needed them to do was to rely on him and the gifts he wanted to give them. At the beginning today’s gospel reading, it seems like they are absolutely bubbling with excitement, reporting all they had done and taught. Because they relied on Jesus.

    We too are called to rely on Jesus, and his gifts, and to come away by ourselves and rest in him.

  • Wednesday of the Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

    Wednesday of the Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    Second Samuel, which we have been reading in our first readings over the last couple of weeks, paints King David, the ancestor of Our Lord, as a very human, very flawed man. Last Friday, we heard of his exploits with Bathsheba, which resulted in him murdering her husband, Uriah the Hittite. Yesterday’s reading, if it had not been Saint Blaise’s memorial, talked about the death of his son Absalom in battle.

    Today’s first reading shows a flawed David too, but maybe the flaw isn’t as easy to understand. But Joab, the leader of David’s army, can see it. In some of the verses that our first reading omits, Joab tries to dissuade David by saying: “May the LORD your God increase the number of people a hundredfold for my lord the king to see it with his own eyes. But why does it please my lord to do a thing of this kind?” Joab can see what David is choosing to ignore: that David should be content with the Lord’s blessings, and not try to take inventory. But David is convinced and the census takes place.

    What makes this even weirder is that in verse one of the 24th chapter of second Samuel, the verse that comes just before the reading we have, it is God himself who incites David to do this thing, because God is angry with the way the nation has been behaving. It’s almost like God used David to punish Israel for their sins.

    But it’s important to remember that David isn’t innocent in all this. He too has contributed to the sins of Israel, and so the punishment is warranted. Thank God that he has mercy at the end of the reading, putting an end to the pestilence.

    So here’s the thing. It’s a weird story, and it paints an Old Testament picture of a God who is quite different than the mercy we see in Jesus. But the message that we have to get is that the whole idea here is to stay in relationship with God. The Israelites wanted to ignore God unless they really, really needed him, relying instead on their alliances with pagan people, and committing the same sins as they did. Even good King David was caught up in that. The point of this reading is that God is not without mercy, but he wants his people to acknowledge their need for it. David does in the responsorial psalm, calling out to God, “Lord, forgive the wrong I have done.”

  • The Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

    The Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    Today’s readings give us a little instruction on the virtue of humility. Humility is the virtue that reminds us that God is God and we are not. That might seem pretty obvious, but I think if we’re honest, we’d all have to admit that we have trouble with humility from time to time. The deadly sin that is in opposition to humility is pride, and pride is perhaps the most common sin, and really the most serious sin. We might think of all kinds of other sins that seem worse, but pride completely destroys our relationship with God because it convinces us that we don’t need God. That was the sin of the Israelites building the golden calf in the desert, it was the sin of the Pharisees arguing with Jesus, it was even the sin of Lucifer in the first place, and it is the sin of all of us, at some level, at some times in our lives.

    Pride is pretty easy to recognize when it’s blatant: it is the person boasting of their abilities or their possessions or their accomplishments or status, claiming all the glory for themselves, putting others down in the process, and never even mentioning God. But that’s not the only face of pride. Another face of pride realizes that we are in a sorry state, but doesn’t want to bother God with our problems so we try to figure them out ourselves. It never works, and so we continue to feel miserable, but we also offend God in the process. A similar face of pride looks to accomplish something important, maybe even something holy. But we go about it without immersing it in prayer and forge ahead with our own plans. Again, we often fail at those times, and we certainly offend God.

    The only antidote to pride is the virtue of humility. Humility is the way of living that accepts the difficulties and challenges of life as an opportunity to let God work in us. It is the state of being that admits that everything we are and everything we have is a gift from God, and spurs us to profound and reverential gratitude for the outpouring of grace that gets us through every day and brings us to deeper friendship with God.

    So today we hear the very familiar Beatitudes. I know that when I was learning about the Beatitudes as a child, they were held up as some kind of Christian answer to the Ten Commandments. I don’t think that’s particularly valid. One might say, however, that the Ten Commandments are a basic rule of life and the Beatitudes take us still deeper.

    I also remember thinking, when I was learning about the Beatitudes, that these seemed like kind of a weak way to live life. I mean, who can live up to all these things anyway? And who would want to? Do you know anyone who would actively seek to be poor, meek or mourning? And who wants to be a peacemaker? Those people have more than their share of grief.

    So I think when we hear the Beatitudes today, we need to hear them a little differently. We need to hear them as consolation and encouragement on the journey. Because at some point or another, we will all be called upon to be poor, meek and mourning. That’s just life. And the disciple has to be a peacemaker and seek righteousness. We will have grief in this lifetime – Jesus tells us that in another place. So what Jesus is saying here, is that those of us undergoing these sorts of trials and still seeking to be righteous people through our sufferings are blessed, even happy.

    So does anyone really believe that? I mean, it’s quite a leap of faith to engage our sufferings and still be sane, let alone happy. The ability to see these Beatitudes as true blessings seems like too much to ask. And yet, that’s what we disciples are being asked to do.

    I think a good part of the reason why this kind of thinking is hard for us, is that it’s completely counter-cultural. Our society wants us to be happy, pain-free and without a concern in the world. That’s the message we get from commercials that sell us the latest in drugs to combat everything from indigestion to cancer – complete with a horrifying list of side-effects. That’s the message we get from the self-help books out there and the late-night infomercials promising that we can get rich quick, rid our homes of every kind of stain or vermin, or lose all the weight you want in just minutes a day. That’s the message we get from Oprah, Dr. Phil, and Joel Osteen and their ilk, who encourage us never to be second to anyone and to do everything possible to put ourselves first. If this is the kind of message we get every time we turn on a television, or surf the internet, who on earth would want to be poor in spirit? Who would want to be meek? Who would even think to hunger and thirst for righteousness?

    Now this is an important point: Pride is just the way we live, culturally speaking. We are always right, and if we’re not, we certainly have a right to be wrong. We can accomplish anything we set out to do, and if we fail, it was someone else’s fault. We don’t need anyone’s help to live our lives, but when we’re in need, it’s because everyone has abandoned us. We are culturally conditioned to be deeply prideful people, and it is absolutely ruining our spiritual lives.

    Jesus is the One who had the most right of anyone to be prideful. He is God, for heaven’s sake – I mean, he really could do anything he wanted without anyone’s help. But he chose to abandon that way of living so that we could learn how to live more perfect lives. He abandoned his pride and in humility took on the worst kind of death and the deepest of humiliation.

    So what if we started to think the way Jesus does? What would happen if we suddenly decided it wasn’t all about us? What would happen if we decided that the utmost priority in life was not merely taking care of ourselves, but instead taking care of others, trusting that in that way, everyone – including ourselves – would be taken care of? What would happen if we were not completely consumed with ourselves and so did not miss the opportunity to come to know others and grow closer to our Lord? That would indeed be a day of great rejoicing and gladness, I can assure you that.

    And I’m not saying you shouldn’t take care of yourself. We all need to do that to some extent, and maybe sometimes we don’t do that as well as we should. But when we consume ourselves with ourselves, nothing good can come from it. Maybe this is a kind of balance that we could spend these weeks leading up to Lent striving to achieve.

    Today’s Liturgy of the Word calls us to a kind of humility that remembers that God is God and we are not. It is the only real antidote to the destructive, deadly sin of pride that consumes our society and us on a daily basis. This isn’t some kind of false humility that says we are good for nothing, because God never made anything that was good for nothing. Instead, it is a humility that reminds us that what is best in us is what God has given us. As St. Paul says today, “God chose the foolish of the world to shame the wise, and God chose the weak of the world to shame the strong, and God chose the lowly and despised of the world, those who count for nothing, to reduce to nothing those who are something, so that no human being might boast before God.” If we would remember that everything that we have and everything we are is a gift to us, if we would remember that it is up to us to care for one another, if we would remember that being consumed with ourselves only makes us feel worse than ever, if we would but humble ourselves and let God give us everything that we really need, we would never be in want. Blessed, happy are we; rejoice and be glad!