Caritas Christi Urget Nos

Tag: faith

  • Tuesday of the Seventh Week in Ordinary Time

    Tuesday of the Seventh Week in Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    Arguing does nothing for our faith. Whether we are arguing about domestic or even trivial things with the people we should be loving, or arguing about something with a person on the internet we’ve never met, arguing is useless. Arguing closes us off to the truth and to the call to charity, so we should do everything we can to end it.

    There’s been a lot of arguing in the Gospels these last couple of days. Yesterday, the disciples were arguing with the scribes when both groups found they were incapable of casting a demon out of a person who was ill. Today, we have the disciples arguing among themselves because they find they don’t understand Jesus’ message.

    All of this arguing betrays a real lack of growth in faith among those disciples. They probably felt like, since they were in Jesus’ inner-circle, they should have the answers. And perhaps they should, but to their defense, they hadn’t received the Holy Spirit yet. In a real sense, they were still in formation, and they shouldn’t have been so afraid to ask Jesus for clarification.

    Jesus’ lesson to them then comes from him putting a little child in their midst. Receive a child like this in my name, he tells them, and you receive me. What’s the point of that? Well, receiving a child in Jesus’ name is an act of service, because a child can do nothing but receive at that point in their life. So serving others in Jesus’ name is what brings us to the Father.

    I think the take-away for us is that trying to be the smartest person in the room isn’t what shows that we are faithful people. Instead of arguing our point, we need to ask God to help us get the point. And we have to be ready to act on our faith, instead of arguing about it, laying down our lives in service to others.

  • Tuesday of the Thirty-third Week in Ordinary Time

    Tuesday of the Thirty-third Week in Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    I just love this story about Zacchaeus! In particular, there are two main components of the story that really stand out for me as hallmarks of the spiritual life.

    The first is Zacchaeus’s openness. First, he is so eager to see Jesus that he climbs up a tree to get a look at him. We don’t have to go that far. All we have to do is spend some time in the Adoration Chapel, or even just some quiet moments reflecting on Scripture, or meditative prayer, even participating in Mass. All of those are ways to see Jesus, but like Zacchaeus, we have to overcome obstacles to get a look at him. For Zacchaeus, that meant climbing up a tree to overcome the fact that he was apparently vertically challenged! But for you and me, that might mean clearing our schedule, making our time with Jesus a priority. Zacchaeus’s openness also included inviting Jesus in, despite his sinfulness. He was willing to make up for his sin and change everything once he found the Lord. We might ask ourselves today what we need to change, and how willing we are to invite Jesus into our lives, despite our brokenness.

    The second thing that stands out for me is what Jesus says to those who chided him for going into a sinner’s house. “For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save what was lost.” What wonderful words those are for us to hear. Because we know how lost we have been at times, and how far we have wandered from our Lord. But the Lord seeks us out anyway, because we are too valuable for him to lose.

    And all we have to do is to be open to the Lord’s work in our lives, just like Zacchaeus was. What a joy it will be then to hear those same words Jesus said to him: “Today salvation has come to this house.”

  • Saturday of the Thirty-second Week in Ordinary Time

    Saturday of the Thirty-second Week in Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    You know, this Gospel reading is filled with all sorts of off-putting comments, isn’t it? I don’t know about you, but I bristle at the thought of comparing God to a dishonest judge! But that’s not the point here. Of course, Jesus means that God is so much greater than the dishonest judge, that if the dishonest judge will finally relent to someone pestering him, how much more will God, who loves us beyond anything we can imagine, how much more will he grant the needs of this children who come to him in faith?

    But people have trouble with this very issue all the time. Because I am sure that almost all of us have been in the situation where we have prayed and prayed and prayed and nothing seems to happen. But we can never know the reason for God’s delay. Maybe what we ask isn’t right for us right now – or ever. Maybe something better is coming our way, or at least something different. Maybe the right answer will position itself in time, through the grace of God at work in so many situations. Most likely, we just don’t have the big picture, which isn’t ours to have, really.

    But whatever the reason, the last line of the Gospel today is our key: “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” And that’s why we have this particular Gospel reading at this late date in the Church year. As the days of Ordinary Time draw to a close, we find it natural to think of the end of time. We don’t know when the end of time will come; Jesus made that clear – nobody knows but the Father. But when it does come, please God let there be faith on earth. Let that great day find us living our faith and living the Gospel and loving one another.

  • The Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Special Needs Mass)

    The Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Special Needs Mass)

    Today’s readings
    Mass with special needs families.

    The Apostle Saint James in our second reading today attacks what is, to me, a very prevalent attitude that people can often have. “Go in peace, keep warm, and eat well” – we see that kind of thing all the time. When a tragedy happens, we will see people offering their “thoughts and prayers.” And not that that is a bad thing: thoughts and prayers are a great start. Certainly, we believe in the power of prayer and would hasten to encourage prayer as a regular habit.

    But Saint James makes it very clear that thoughts and prayers can’t be the end of our compassion and care for others. He says that, if you say that to the person, “but you do not give them the necessities of the body, what good is it?” Our faith leads us to thoughts and prayers, that’s why it’s the first thing we think of when there is a tragedy, or someone in our community is going through a hard time. But if we don’t live our faith by working to help those in need then, says Saint James, our faith, “if it does not have works, is dead.”

    I had a priest professor in seminary who always used to tell us, “Brothers, the Christian faith looks like something.” And he’s right, people need to see that Jesus is Lord of our lives and sovereign in the world, and the only way they are going to see that is if Christians live their faith by getting out of the comfort zone, by going beyond thoughts and prayers to a living faith that, as Saint James says, is demonstrated from our works. A watching world isn’t going to see our thoughts and prayers; they are going to see what we do. They need to see by what we do that we are who we say we are, that our God is Lord.

    That’s going to call us to be a little uncomfortable sometimes. It’s going to call us to do what Jesus calls us to do in the Gospel today: to take up our crosses and follow him. There is suffering out there in the world, and if we don’t wrap them in our arms and suffer with them, adding works of mercy to our thoughts and prayers, then our faith is meaningless. We can’t be Catholics for just one hour a week. We have to lose our lives in service of our brothers and sisters. That’s a tough thing to do, but it comes with a promise from our Lord:

    For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it,
    but whoever loses his life for my sake
    and that of the gospel will save it.

    So let’s not stop thinking about and praying for those in need. But let’s stop saying, “Go in peace, keep warm, and eat well” and then forgetting about our brothers and sisters. Let’s demonstrate our faith by our works, taking up our crosses and following Our Lord, losing ourselves for his sake and that of the Gospel that we might save it for eternity.

  • The Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

    The Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    I often wonder how people get through the hard times of their lives if they don’t have faith. We can all probably think of a time (or several) in our lives when we were sorely tested, when our lives were turned upside-down, and, looking back, we can’t figure out how we lived through it except for the grace of our faith and the abiding presence of God. During the course of my priesthood, I have been present to a lot of people who were going through times like that: whether it be illness or death of a loved one, relationship struggles, job issues, or financial struggles, or a host of other maladies. Some of them had faith, and some of them didn’t. It was always inspirational to see how people with faith lived through their hard times, and very sad to see how many who didn’t have faith just broken when their lives stopped going well.

    That’s the experience that today’s Liturgy of the Word puts before us, I think. Let’s look at the context. In last week’s Gospel, Jesus has cured two people miraculously. He actually raised Jairus’s twelve-year-old daughter from the dead, and he cured the hemorrhagic woman, who had been suffering for twelve years. So both stories had occurrences of the number twelve, reminiscent of the twelve tribes of Abraham, and later the Twelve Apostles, both of which signify the outreach of God’s presence into the whole world. So those two miraculous healings last week reminded us that Jesus was healing the whole world.

    But this week, we see the exception. This week, Jesus is in his hometown, where he is unable to do much in the way of miracles except for a few minor healings. Why? Because the people lacked faith. And this is in stark contrast to last week’s healings where Jairus handed his daughter over to Jesus in faith, and the hemorrhagic woman had faith that just grasping on to the garments of Jesus would give her healing. Faith can be very healing, and a lack of it can be stifling, leading eventually to the destruction of life.

    We see that clearly in the first two readings today. First Ezekiel is told that the people he would be ministering to would not change, because they were obstinate. But at least they’d know a prophet had been among them. Contrast that with Saint Paul’s unyielding faith in the second reading to the Corinthian Church. Even though he begged the Lord three times to relieve him of whatever it was that was his thorn in the flesh, he would not stop believing in God’s goodness. Much has been said about what Saint Paul could possibly mean by this “thorn.” Was it an illness or infirmity? Was it a pattern of sin or at least a temptation that would not leave him alone? We don’t know for sure, but this “thorn” makes Saint Paul’s story all the more compelling for us who have to deal with our own “thorns” in our own lives. Saint Paul’s faith led him to be content with whatever weakness or hardship befell him, and he came to know that in his weakness, God could do more and thus make him stronger than he could be on his own. That assurance gives us hope of the same grace in our own struggles.

    We people of faith will be tested sometimes; that’s when the rubber hits the road for our faith. Knowing of God’s providence, we can be sure that he will lead us to whatever is best. And our faith can help us to make sense of the struggles and know God’s presence in the dark places of our lives. People of faith are tested by the storms and tempests of the world, but are never abandoned by our God. Never abandoned.

    Let’s pray with this notion today. Take a moment to quiet yourself, close your eyes if that works for you…

    Take a moment now to think of whatever thorn is in your side. Maybe it’s illness or infirmity, or a temptation that won’t go away, an uneasiness about something going on in your life, worry about yourself or a family member. Whatever that is, bring that to mind and tell Jesus about it. Yes, he knows your needs, but he wants to hear you say it and put it in his merciful hands…

    Now picture putting that need, that thorn, in Jesus’ hands. Give it up and stop holding on to it. Let go of whatever hold that thorn has on you…

    Take a moment now to pray to Jesus in your heart, using your own words. Tell him that you trust him to make of this thorn whatever he wants it to be. Tell him that you trust in his healing, and that you will stop holding on to the way you want it to work out. Ask him to take the burden from you and promise not to take it back…

    Repeat this after me: Jesus, I trust in you. Jesus, I give you my burdens. Jesus, I will accept healing in the way you want it for me. Jesus, I trust in you.

  • The Thirteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time

    The Thirteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    My absolute favorite line from this Gospel reading is, “Then he put them all out.” I can just imagine Jesus going into the house, encountering the mourners, seeing the lack of faith in all of them, and saying “Go on! Get outta here! I’ve got work to do!” Or maybe that’s just how I’d say it!

    It might be a funny little line, but I think it makes a significant point, and sums up the point made by the Liturgy of the Word we have for today. Faith is necessary in our relationship with God and in receiving God’s blessings and in living the life for which he has created us. Those incredulous mourners were symptomatic of a people who had abandoned hope of God’s interest in them. They were so abused by the scrupulous religious establishment, that they didn’t really even know God, nor did they believe that God cared about them. So all that was left for them was to mourn, because, as far as they knew, there was nothing for which to look forward. The only thing Jesus could do, then, was to put them out of the house, so that he could respond to the faith of Jairus, the synagogue official, the father of the girl, who had faith enough that he called Jesus to come heal her.

    That’s not so different from the situation with the woman who somewhat detained Jesus on the way to Jairus’s house. This poor woman had placed her faith in “many doctors,” who apparently did nothing but increase her suffering. Just an aside here, but as wonderful as health care is for the most part, as I get older I’m getting the significance of having to see “many doctors.” Two cardiologists, a sleep doctor, my primary care physician, and the list goes on and on. Maybe some of you can resonate with this too. Now this woman seems to have had a stirring of faith, or maybe it was even a last ditch effort, a “Hail Mary,” if you will, and that leads her to touch the garment of Jesus as he passes by. She makes an act of faith: “If I but touch his clothes, I shall be cured.” And in this humble act of faith, in which she undoubtedly hopes to go unnoticed, she finds that no act of faith is ever unnoticed by Our Lord. Even though the disciples laugh at him for wanting to know who in the pressing crowd touched him, Jesus, who surely already knew who it was, acknowledges this woman of faith and responds to that act of faith.

    “God did not make death,” as the wisdom author in our first reading tells us. And because he did not make death, he has given us faith as a remedy for its effects on our lives. Maybe we won’t be miraculously cured like the hemorrhagic woman, and maybe we won’t be raised from the dead like the daughter of Jairus. But we absolutely will experience resurrection and new life when we join ourselves to Christ who has triumphed over death. That experience requires faith, and we must make it our constant care to exercise that faith, live that faith, and to “put out” of our lives any negativity, any dependence on worldly remedies, anything, really, that interferes with that faith. Each of us must be absolutely willing to “put them all out” and react in faith to all that God wants to do in our lives. Because our lives depend on it. They really do.

  • Thursday of the Twelfth Week of Ordinary Time

    Thursday of the Twelfth Week of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    Have you accepted Jesus as your personal Savior? I’m sure you’ve heard this question, perhaps someone even asked you that question. They teach that all you have to do is make that one-time decision and you’re saved. Not so fast.

    If salvation were something magical that came about as the result of just saying a simple prayer, once and for all, then why wouldn’t everyone do that? The fact is, salvation is hard work. It was purchased at an incredible price by Jesus on the cross. And for us to make it relevant in our lives, to live it in our lives, we have work to do too. Not the kind of work that earns salvation, because salvation is not earned, but the kind of work that appropriates it into our lives and makes it meaningful.

    People who are saved behave in a specific way. They are people who take the Gospel seriously and live it every day. They are people of integrity that stand up for what’s right in every situation, no matter what it personally costs. They are people of justice who will not tolerate the sexist or racist joke, let alone tolerate a lack of concern for the poor and the oppressed. They are people of deep prayer, whose lives are wrapped up in the Eucharist and the sacraments, people who confront their own sinfulness by examination of conscience and sacramental Penance. They are people who live lightly in this world, not getting caught up in its excess and distraction, knowing they are citizens of a heaven where such things have no permanence. Saved people live in a way that is often hard, but always joyful.

    Not everyone who claims Jesus as a personal Savior, not everyone who cries out “Lord, Lord,” will enter the kingdom of heaven. That’s what Jesus tells us today. We have to build our spiritual houses on the solid rock of Jesus Christ, living as he lived, following his commandments, and clinging to him in prayer and sacrament as if our very life depended on it. Because it does. It does.

  • The Twelfth Sunday of Ordinary Time

    The Twelfth Sunday of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    What on earth do you do when everything comes crashing down around you?

    That’s a question that, quite frankly, all of us have to deal with at some time or another in our lives. Some people get more than their share of sadness, but really all of us have a heap of frustration delivered to our doorstep at some point. And it does seem to pour when it rains. Bad circumstances pile up and are mixed with frustration, anger, sadness, humiliation, and a whole host of other emotions that only make bad circumstances worse.

    So what on earth do you do when everything comes crashing down around you?

    Job had quite the storm on his hands. He was a just man and his righteousness had earned him the favor of God and the esteem of all those who knew him. He had a large and powerful family and a thriving business, and it seemed that things couldn’t be going better. Except when everything came crashing down around him. The devil didn’t like how just and upright Job was, and how much God took pride in him. And so, as the devil will do, he made plans to upset the apple cart. God allowed it, as he allows the things that befall us, because not to do so would violate our free will, which he gave us out of love.

    Job does okay for a while, but when everything piled on, Job couldn’t take it any more. His friends are no help, and they even blame him for the things that have happened. His wife tells him to “curse God and die” (2:9). Twenty-nine chapters of this has him blaming God, only to be rebuked by his friends. And in the passage we have today, God sets things right, and points out to Job that he can’t know all that God has in mind and he has no idea how the balance of good and evil in the world work. But in all of this, God has not forgotten Job, so when Job repents a few chapters later, God restores Job’s fortunes many more times greater than he had in the past.

    But what are you going to do when everything comes crashing down around you?

    The disciples of Jesus in the Gospel reading today certainly thought that moment had come. They had been following Jesus now, and while they were drawn to him, he clearly was not the kind of Messiah they had been expecting. Far from being a heroic military leader destined to return Israel to its place of prominence in the world at that time, Jesus was asleep on a cushion in the stern of a boat, while a violent squall threatened to dump them into the sea. Didn’t he get it? Doesn’t he know this is the kind of thing a Messiah takes care of? Couldn’t he be expected to lead them through the storm?

    Well, he does, of course. With just a few words, he rebukes the wind and the sea and tells them to be still, and the wind and the sea obey. They are astounded. And Jesus expects them to expect the astounding: “Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?”

    And here we come to what is, I think, the crux of today’s Liturgy of the Word. And that is faith. You know, we have talked about this before: it’s easy to have faith when things are going well, as they were for Job in the early part of that book. But when everything crashes down around you, when everyone you know is killed, and all of your fortune destroyed, when the wind and the waves threaten to dump you into the sea, well, it’s hard to have faith then, isn’t it?

    But in those moments, those moments when everything is crashing down around you, when the world seems to be coming to a horrible end, those, friends, are the times when we need our faith the most. “Do you not yet have faith?” Jesus asks the disciples in the boat that question, but he could well enough ask us too, right? He could well ask us disciples that same question:

    • when you’re at the bedside of a loved one who went home way too soon.
• when your job comes to an end and you have no idea what is coming next.
• when your children can’t see what’s best for them and want to go their own way.
• when your spouse doesn’t seem interested in your relationship any more.
• when you’ve just received a difficult diagnosis, and you’re not sure you can withstand the medical treatment.
• when you have no one to go home to, and the loneliness seems like a never-ending abyss.
• when you’re listening to the news and you feel powerless to withstand the evil in the world, let alone to confront it.

    When everything is crashing down around us, do we have our faith in those moments? Because if we don’t, we’ll never be able to see Jesus in the stern of the boat, we will never be able to withstand the violent squall. There have been days where, absent my faith, I wouldn’t still be functional. But thanks be to God, I have God in my life and my faith sustains me through my hardest days.

    But that doesn’t mean it just happens. There isn’t a way to press a button and be in “faith mode” when everything comes crashing down around you. There has to be a pre-existing faith to engage. We get through tough times not by waving a magic wand, but instead by placing the storm at the foot of the Cross that we have learned to adore, and by accepting the will of Our Lord who we have learned to follow in love. The trust that we have in the Lord in whom we have put our faith is the salvation from the wind and the storm and the sea and everything crashing around us. If even the wind and the sea obey Jesus, then we have to also. And we have to do it before the storm catches us unprepared.

    “What are you going to do when everything comes crashing down around you?” isn’t really the most important question. The real question is, how are you going to build the faith that you need for when that happens?

  • The Eleventh Sunday of Ordinary Time

    The Eleventh Sunday of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    I love this image of seeds growing for a couple of reasons. First of all, it’s summer, and we are seeing things grow all around us. We hope the corn will be knee high by the Fourth of July, and that the flowers we’ve planted adorn our homes with beautiful color. Summer finds us looking for natural growth in our world and in our own yards. Second, though, as we find ourselves in Summer Ordinary Time, I believe the Church gives us tools for living the life of discipleship to which we are all called. Today we hear about how that life grows and comes to fruition.

    Now, I really don’t have a green thumb, but for a while when I was young, I was very interested in growing things. My grandmother on my dad’s side had quite the green thumb: anything she planted grew to be quite prolific. I have whatever the opposite of that is! But still, I have always been fascinated by things growing from tiny little seeds to become large plants; no matter if they become beautiful flowers to decorate the landscape, or delicious vegetables to bring to the table.

    It’s really a miracle when you think about it. A little seed, a tiny little dried-up thing, looks for all the world to be useless and dead. But when it gets planted in the earth, and watered by the rains, new life springs forth from it, and a tiny sprout appears, which grows day by day to become a fully mature plant by the summertime. Sure, we or the farmers might do a little work to nurture it and water it and keep the weeds and rabbits away, but we don’t make the plant grow: day by day, almost imperceptibly, growth happens. One day, for all the grace given it, it becomes a mature plant that gives nourishment and delight and shade for the birds of the air.

    And this is the image that Jesus uses today to describe the Kingdom of God. These parables are a lens through which we are to see life: the life of God, and our life, and how they all come together. And it’s an encouraging message that we hear today. Today, our Lord assures us that the Kingdom of God doesn’t come about all at once, in great power and glory, or in some kind of dramatic explosion. The Kingdom is like those crops that grow to be fully mature plants and yield a harvest, but it happens little by little, almost imperceptibly, always growing, but we know not how. And the Kingdom is miraculous like a mustard seed which one day is the tiniest of all seeds and eventually becomes a large plant that gives shelter to the birds of the air.

    Here’s why I think these parables are so encouraging: We all want to be part of the Kingdom of God. We all want to grow in our faith. We all want that faith to sustain us in good times and bad, and eventually lead us to heaven. That’s why we’re here today. But the truth is, if you’re like me, you get frustrated sometimes because it doesn’t seem like there’s any real growth going on. We commit the same sins despite our firmest resolve. Our plans to revive our prayer life fizzle out before they can get a firm foothold in our lives. We take one step forward and two steps back. But still, like the seed scattered on the land, being here for Mass today isn’t nothing. Our prayers, however lacking they may seem to be, are still a manifestation of our desire to be in relationship with God. And God takes those tiny seeds of faith and waters them with grace and the sacraments and the life of the Church, until one day, please God, our faith makes a difference in our lives and the lives of those around us. And even if whatever we start with in the life of faith is as tiny as a mustard seed, in God’s hands, it can become that shrub that is a shelter for those who are flying around in life from one thing to the next, without any real hope except for Christ in us.

    And that’s an important thing for us to get. Our faith life gets nourished and we grow in it from day to day. That’s a gift to us, for sure: every step gets us closer to the life of heaven. But it’s not for us only, friends. We are called as we mature to become the shrub that gives shelter to the birds of the air. We are meant to help others along the way of faith too. Because we don’t go alone to heaven; we’re supposed to take as many fellow seekers along with us as we possibly can.

    We may not be perfect yet, friends, but we’re graced. And that grace will perfect whatever we sow and make our tiny little beginnings into great things, all for the Kingdom of God.

  • Tuesday of the Sixth Week of Easter

    Tuesday of the Sixth Week of Easter

    Today’s readings

    Today’s first reading always fascinates me.  Paul and Silas are in a terrible situation, not for the first or last time, I might add.  But just look at how their vibrant faith allows God to do things in and through them that are nothing short of miraculous.  First, there’s the earthquake that brings down the prison walls, although Paul and Silas did not take advantage of the situation.  Then there’s the conversion of the jailer, who was an employee of the Romans, and so would have been expected to worship their pagan gods, and he probably had up until this very moment.  You might also note the rather miraculous faith of Paul and Silas, who despite being very badly mistreated on account of Jesus, did not abandon their faith but actually grew stronger in it.  Authentic faith, lived in freedom, makes possible the salvation of many, many souls.

    Just observing the story as it unfolds in our Liturgy of the Word, it’s all so amazing, although Paul and Silas probably just viewed it as part and parcel of the life they had been called to live.  They had faith in Jesus and they probably didn’t expect anything less than the miracles they were seeing!  The baptism of the Roman guard’s household in particular, was a huge win for the kingdom of God, and Paul and Silas wouldn’t have expected anything less, it seems.

    People of great faith experience great miracles.  This is not to say that all their troubles go away or that they can wave a wand and prison walls tumble down.  Paul and Silas were still imprisoned, and continued to be hounded by the people and the government because of their faith.  But the miracles always come through the abiding presence of Christ.  These God-moments give us strength when we need it most.  It might not be a huge thing, maybe just a kind word from a stranger that comes at the right moment, a phone call from a friend that makes our day, an answer to prayer that is not what we expected but exactly what we needed.  The Psalmist today has that same great faith: “Your right hand saves me, O Lord,” he sings.  Let us pray that our hearts and eyes and minds would be open to see the miracles happening around us, and that we might live authentic faith for the sake of the kingdom of God.

    Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!