Tuesday of the First Week in Lent
(Isaiah 55:10-11; Matthew 6:7-15)
The great American film director and actor Clint Eastwood epitomizes an economy of words. He made his name in movies as the laconic stranger of “spaghetti westerns” (i.e., cowboy movies shot in Europe). When Eastwood directs a film, he famously cuts much of the wording from its original script and finishes it with only a month of shooting. Could Eastwood not be pleased with Jesus’ advice about prayer today?
The “Lord’s Prayer” prioritizes God’s goodness as it rapidly courses through seven petitions. “…thy Kingdom come, thy will be done,” it says upfront, trusting that the fulfillment of these requests will bring blessings. The remaining four petitions are a bit longer and more specific, but in no way do they detail what the heart desires. They merely relieve the anxiety of living as doves in a sinful world.
Jesus means to emphasize that as our Father, God knows our needs better than we. There is no need on the Father’s part to remind Him of the many people who are hurting. Yet the practice of naming those for whom we pray likely helps us to focus our love. Still, lest we become lost in our concerns, we do well to just meditate on any one of the seven petitions thinking of how God might fulfill it.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Monday of the First Week in Lent
(Leviticus 19:1-2.11-18; Matthew 25:31-46)
The Scriptural readings for today’s mass strike a balance between negative and positive acts. Leviticus enumerates several “thou shalt nots” (although modern translations make it, “You shall not”). Knowing that humans are as likely to do evil as they are to fail doing good, the Church wants to remind us not to steal, judge harshly, or hate. The gospel, on the other hand, emphasizes that avoiding evil is not enough for salvation. The saved will also feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and visit the imprisoned.
We might ask which is more important – to avoid doing what is wrong or to do what is good? Can we risk doing harm by trying to do good? Or is it better to play it safe by never taking any chances? In medicine, at least, an answer to these puzzling questions seems to emerge. The Hippocratic Oath, which physicians took for centuries, clearly sides with the need to avoid malfeasance. After promising to offer dietetic measures to heal the sick, the oath-taker swears not to hasten death, induce abortion, or to molest patients or householders whom they visit. By nature conservative, the tradition means to temper the penchant of risk-taking.
It is fair to say that avoiding harm is essential but insufficient. If love is the supreme virtue, it entails that we act positively toward others by at least praying for them when we cannot offer physical or moral support. During Lent we may take stock of our lives by daily asking ourselves two questions: What evil have I done today? What good have I failed to do?
(Leviticus 19:1-2.11-18; Matthew 25:31-46)
The Scriptural readings for today’s mass strike a balance between negative and positive acts. Leviticus enumerates several “thou shalt nots” (although modern translations make it, “You shall not”). Knowing that humans are as likely to do evil as they are to fail doing good, the Church wants to remind us not to steal, judge harshly, or hate. The gospel, on the other hand, emphasizes that avoiding evil is not enough for salvation. The saved will also feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and visit the imprisoned.
We might ask which is more important – to avoid doing what is wrong or to do what is good? Can we risk doing harm by trying to do good? Or is it better to play it safe by never taking any chances? In medicine, at least, an answer to these puzzling questions seems to emerge. The Hippocratic Oath, which physicians took for centuries, clearly sides with the need to avoid malfeasance. After promising to offer dietetic measures to heal the sick, the oath-taker swears not to hasten death, induce abortion, or to molest patients or householders whom they visit. By nature conservative, the tradition means to temper the penchant of risk-taking.
It is fair to say that avoiding harm is essential but insufficient. If love is the supreme virtue, it entails that we act positively toward others by at least praying for them when we cannot offer physical or moral support. During Lent we may take stock of our lives by daily asking ourselves two questions: What evil have I done today? What good have I failed to do?
Friday, March 11, 2011
Friday after Ash Wednesday
(Isaiah 58:1-9a; Matthew 9:14-15)
Fifty years ago every Catholic adult was supposed to fast every day of Lent. The fast consisted of not eating more than one full meal a day, not eating between meals, and not taking meat more than once a day except on Friday when it was completely prohibited. Probably because many began flouting the fast and others scorned the backsliders, the practices were abandoned in 1966 in favor of the much lighter fast the Church imposes today.
Christians fast for several reasons. As with Jesus in the desert, fasting prepares us for a religious mission. It focuses our attention on what must be done and recognizes the need for God’s assistance. During Lent our focus is renewal in the Spirit that comes at Easter. Fasting also brings us in solidarity with the poor by experiencing their want of food and also by freeing up resources that might be shared with them. Finally, it serves as an outer sign of inner affection for the Lord as when a lover will sacrifice a free night to accompany his beloved to the library.
In the reading from Isaiah today, the prophet excoriates the people for undermining the purpose of fasting. Rather than disposing them to care more deeply, fasting serves the people as a subterfuge for their greed. Because It has made the Jews more sanctimonious than saintly and more corrupt than compassionate, Isaiah wants to alter the rules. The desired fast will no longer be so much what the Jews give up but what they give. They must feed the hungry and release the unjustly imprisoned. Only then will God accept their self-denial as legitimate expressions of love.
(Isaiah 58:1-9a; Matthew 9:14-15)
Fifty years ago every Catholic adult was supposed to fast every day of Lent. The fast consisted of not eating more than one full meal a day, not eating between meals, and not taking meat more than once a day except on Friday when it was completely prohibited. Probably because many began flouting the fast and others scorned the backsliders, the practices were abandoned in 1966 in favor of the much lighter fast the Church imposes today.
Christians fast for several reasons. As with Jesus in the desert, fasting prepares us for a religious mission. It focuses our attention on what must be done and recognizes the need for God’s assistance. During Lent our focus is renewal in the Spirit that comes at Easter. Fasting also brings us in solidarity with the poor by experiencing their want of food and also by freeing up resources that might be shared with them. Finally, it serves as an outer sign of inner affection for the Lord as when a lover will sacrifice a free night to accompany his beloved to the library.
In the reading from Isaiah today, the prophet excoriates the people for undermining the purpose of fasting. Rather than disposing them to care more deeply, fasting serves the people as a subterfuge for their greed. Because It has made the Jews more sanctimonious than saintly and more corrupt than compassionate, Isaiah wants to alter the rules. The desired fast will no longer be so much what the Jews give up but what they give. They must feed the hungry and release the unjustly imprisoned. Only then will God accept their self-denial as legitimate expressions of love.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Thursday after Ash Wednesday
(Deuteronomy 30:15-20; Luke 9:22-25)
“Freedom is not free,” goes a popular adage. What’s in mind here is that freedom must be defended from those who would force a people to act according to their designs. But freedom is not free in another, deeper sense. True freedom is more than the absence of exterior controls but the application of inner control to do what is good, truthful, and beautiful. One develops such control only with considerable intention and effort. A master artist freely applies paint to canvass producing lovely images only after years of practice. Likewise, to live righteously requires concentrated effort.
The passage from Deuteronomy speaks of God’s challenge to the Israelites. They are to choose life by developing the freedom that God has won for them. This means that they are to practice every day the virtues taught to them in the desert. Failing to do so, allowing those virtues to atrophy by following the ways of the people with whom they will live, will mean their death as a people. History has borne out God’s prediction. The Jews have maintained themselves as a nation for three millennia by following the Torah. On the other hand, no living trace remains of the Canaanites and Amorites.
During Lent we are likewise challenged to grow in freedom by refining the theological virtues won for us in Christ’s death and resurrection. Our repentance from sin as Lent begins faithfully recognizes Jesus as our savior. Our fasting for God’s sake and acts of charity on behalf of others throughout the forty days make us more loving people. And our focus on the Paschal mystery at the season’s end increases our hope of participation in Christ’s resurrected life.
(Deuteronomy 30:15-20; Luke 9:22-25)
“Freedom is not free,” goes a popular adage. What’s in mind here is that freedom must be defended from those who would force a people to act according to their designs. But freedom is not free in another, deeper sense. True freedom is more than the absence of exterior controls but the application of inner control to do what is good, truthful, and beautiful. One develops such control only with considerable intention and effort. A master artist freely applies paint to canvass producing lovely images only after years of practice. Likewise, to live righteously requires concentrated effort.
The passage from Deuteronomy speaks of God’s challenge to the Israelites. They are to choose life by developing the freedom that God has won for them. This means that they are to practice every day the virtues taught to them in the desert. Failing to do so, allowing those virtues to atrophy by following the ways of the people with whom they will live, will mean their death as a people. History has borne out God’s prediction. The Jews have maintained themselves as a nation for three millennia by following the Torah. On the other hand, no living trace remains of the Canaanites and Amorites.
During Lent we are likewise challenged to grow in freedom by refining the theological virtues won for us in Christ’s death and resurrection. Our repentance from sin as Lent begins faithfully recognizes Jesus as our savior. Our fasting for God’s sake and acts of charity on behalf of others throughout the forty days make us more loving people. And our focus on the Paschal mystery at the season’s end increases our hope of participation in Christ’s resurrected life.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Ash Wednesday
(Joel 2:12-18; II Corinthians 5:20-6:2; Matthew 6:1-6.16-18)
An administrator at the University of Notre Dame once complained how hard it was to receive large grants for scholarships and other kinds of special funds. He said that there were plenty of benefactors willing to put up seven figure sums for buildings that they would bear their names, but few who would give more “in secret” as Jesus recommends in the gospel today.
We should not see the shortcoming as endemic to the wealthy. Most everyone wants to have his or her good deeds noticed. It is a way of hedging one’s faith investment. If God does not care about our goodness or does not exist as atheists say, then at least other people may give us some credit for our efforts. Such a disposition bespeaks the searing need for Lent.
Now is the time to think deeply about our lives. We know that God exists because we are. More importantly, we assert that God has sent His son Jesus to save us from folly because of the blessings we have received following him. But it is more accurate to say “half-heartedly following” Jesus. We not only like to be seen doing good as he warns against but also refuse to eradicate our less reprehensible sins that separate us from full communion with God and neighbor. We have these forty days expressly for repenting of these unfaithful ways and recommitting ourselves unreservedly to the Lord.
(Joel 2:12-18; II Corinthians 5:20-6:2; Matthew 6:1-6.16-18)
An administrator at the University of Notre Dame once complained how hard it was to receive large grants for scholarships and other kinds of special funds. He said that there were plenty of benefactors willing to put up seven figure sums for buildings that they would bear their names, but few who would give more “in secret” as Jesus recommends in the gospel today.
We should not see the shortcoming as endemic to the wealthy. Most everyone wants to have his or her good deeds noticed. It is a way of hedging one’s faith investment. If God does not care about our goodness or does not exist as atheists say, then at least other people may give us some credit for our efforts. Such a disposition bespeaks the searing need for Lent.
Now is the time to think deeply about our lives. We know that God exists because we are. More importantly, we assert that God has sent His son Jesus to save us from folly because of the blessings we have received following him. But it is more accurate to say “half-heartedly following” Jesus. We not only like to be seen doing good as he warns against but also refuse to eradicate our less reprehensible sins that separate us from full communion with God and neighbor. We have these forty days expressly for repenting of these unfaithful ways and recommitting ourselves unreservedly to the Lord.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)