Tuesday of the First Week in Lent
(Isaiah 55:10-11; Matthew 6:7-13)
Church fathers used to say that prayer does not change God; it changes us. To the extent that this is true, we should find ourselves conforming to the prayer that Christians pray most often, the “Our Father.” We might see the following changes being made over the years. First, we come to see God first and foremost as Father. Not everyone has an affectionate relationship with his or her father, but more often than not fathers care for their children. Maturing as Christians, we want to recognize God as one who loves and supports most of all.
God is neither poor nor small-minded. Rather he is a king with the universe at His command. Recognizing His majesty, we begin to take responsibility for creation as our heritage. This means that we concern ourselves with the environment and, more so, with the well-being of other humans.
Finally, the “Our Father” inclines us to forgive our offenders. Some think that this stance implies forgiving wrongdoers whether or not they express remorse. Eagerness to pardon, however, seems unreflective, untrue to how forgiveness is described in Scripture, and unlikely to achieve reconciliation. It seems to me more faithful to always pray for those who offend us that they might see their mistake, if indeed they were wrong, or that we might see ours if that is the case. (Perhaps both parties will usually recognize complicity in wrong-doing.) When the guilt is revealed and due contrition expressed, both the offended and the offender will find reconciliation warranted.
Monday, February 22, 2010
The Chair of St. Peter, apostle
(I Peter 5:1-4; Matthew 16:13-19)
Last Monday Americans celebrated not just Abraham Lincoln and George Washington but all their country’s presidents. Today the Church feasts not just St. Peter and St. Pius X but all her popes. The list is long – 263 in number – and illustrious. There have been a few scoundrels along the line, but for the most part men of wisdom and piety have occupied the office.
There are many titles for the pope. He is the Vicar of Christ, the Successor of St. Peter, the Bishop of Rome, and the Patriarch of the West. Perhaps the most becoming of all titles, because of its gospel roots, is what Pope St. Gregory the Great named himself and his successors echoed – “Servant of the Servants of God.” The spirit of service drew many non-Catholics to Pope John Paul II who dedicated himself to world peace and unity.
Today’s gospel illustrates what is expected of the pope. As Simon in Matthew’s gospel is the first human to recognize Jesus as the Messiah, so the pope must exhibit clarity in faith. Then, just as Jesus names Simon, “Peter” the rock upon which he establishes the Church, so too the pope is to support all Christians, disciplining where necessary but more characteristically encouraging devotion by charity.
(I Peter 5:1-4; Matthew 16:13-19)
Last Monday Americans celebrated not just Abraham Lincoln and George Washington but all their country’s presidents. Today the Church feasts not just St. Peter and St. Pius X but all her popes. The list is long – 263 in number – and illustrious. There have been a few scoundrels along the line, but for the most part men of wisdom and piety have occupied the office.
There are many titles for the pope. He is the Vicar of Christ, the Successor of St. Peter, the Bishop of Rome, and the Patriarch of the West. Perhaps the most becoming of all titles, because of its gospel roots, is what Pope St. Gregory the Great named himself and his successors echoed – “Servant of the Servants of God.” The spirit of service drew many non-Catholics to Pope John Paul II who dedicated himself to world peace and unity.
Today’s gospel illustrates what is expected of the pope. As Simon in Matthew’s gospel is the first human to recognize Jesus as the Messiah, so the pope must exhibit clarity in faith. Then, just as Jesus names Simon, “Peter” the rock upon which he establishes the Church, so too the pope is to support all Christians, disciplining where necessary but more characteristically encouraging devotion by charity.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Friday alter Ash Wednesday
(Isaiah 58:1-9ª; Matthew 9:14-15)
Like Mahatma Gandhi, Cesar Chavez, the Mexican-American farm labor organizer, often fasted. He did not necessarily ask others to accompany him in his sacrifice. He said that he fasted so that might be cleansed inwardly. He knew how fasting enables one to focus on objectives. Distractions, at least from food, will not sway the faster because he or she has already made a decision about them. Also, the sense of inner hunger gives urgency to the faster’s purpose.
The prophet Isaiah in the first reading today scolds Israel for not fasting rightly. Religious fasting should remind people of their first priority, which is God. However, Israel only exploits fasting to increase profits. It is as if the money the people save by not eating is used not to help the poor or even to buy some necessity for home, but to play the lottery.
During Lent the Church calls us to fast. The ashes we accepted on Wednesday were an explicit recognition that we have sinned. We have to ask ourselves, “What are we going to do about our sins?” The three great disciplines of Lent comprise the answer. First, we are going to turn away from the gratification of our appetites. Then, we will pray to God for forgiveness. Finally, we will show greater care for everyone, especially those in need. In these ways, we shall reach our goal, which is none other than God.
(Isaiah 58:1-9ª; Matthew 9:14-15)
Like Mahatma Gandhi, Cesar Chavez, the Mexican-American farm labor organizer, often fasted. He did not necessarily ask others to accompany him in his sacrifice. He said that he fasted so that might be cleansed inwardly. He knew how fasting enables one to focus on objectives. Distractions, at least from food, will not sway the faster because he or she has already made a decision about them. Also, the sense of inner hunger gives urgency to the faster’s purpose.
The prophet Isaiah in the first reading today scolds Israel for not fasting rightly. Religious fasting should remind people of their first priority, which is God. However, Israel only exploits fasting to increase profits. It is as if the money the people save by not eating is used not to help the poor or even to buy some necessity for home, but to play the lottery.
During Lent the Church calls us to fast. The ashes we accepted on Wednesday were an explicit recognition that we have sinned. We have to ask ourselves, “What are we going to do about our sins?” The three great disciplines of Lent comprise the answer. First, we are going to turn away from the gratification of our appetites. Then, we will pray to God for forgiveness. Finally, we will show greater care for everyone, especially those in need. In these ways, we shall reach our goal, which is none other than God.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Thursday after Ash Wednesday
(Deuteronomy 30:15-20; Luke 9:22-25)
When Jesus speaks of taking up one’s cross in the gospel, we usually think of accepting the hardships that are part of every person’s life. Even the rich get sick. Even the famous suffer heartache. We want to bear with disease and anxiety with the same patience and courage that characterized Jesus as he headed toward Jerusalem.
But when the gospel speaks of the cross at the beginning of Lent, another idea comes to mind. We think not so much of the trials thrust upon us as of the penances taken on voluntarily. We search for ways to deprive ourselves – perhaps from some food or drink that we enjoy and from the rest or entertainment that we defer in helping others. Certainly in our age of instant gratification such behavior appears bizarre and even masochistic to many, but we know differently. We understand that such sacrifice conforms us more to the one whom we not just admire and follow but who gives us salvation.
How does this happen? Jesus allowed his persecutors to torture him out of love for us. We show a parallel love by denying ourselves. It is the same spiritual motivation that people show in sympathy actions – a wife giving up wine in support of her alcoholic husband or even a union showing solidarity with another that is on strike by calling a work stoppage. Also self-denial makes us morally stronger, again like Jesus. We exhibit control over our sensual appetites as well as the capacity to better appreciate their fulfillment on the day of glory.
(Deuteronomy 30:15-20; Luke 9:22-25)
When Jesus speaks of taking up one’s cross in the gospel, we usually think of accepting the hardships that are part of every person’s life. Even the rich get sick. Even the famous suffer heartache. We want to bear with disease and anxiety with the same patience and courage that characterized Jesus as he headed toward Jerusalem.
But when the gospel speaks of the cross at the beginning of Lent, another idea comes to mind. We think not so much of the trials thrust upon us as of the penances taken on voluntarily. We search for ways to deprive ourselves – perhaps from some food or drink that we enjoy and from the rest or entertainment that we defer in helping others. Certainly in our age of instant gratification such behavior appears bizarre and even masochistic to many, but we know differently. We understand that such sacrifice conforms us more to the one whom we not just admire and follow but who gives us salvation.
How does this happen? Jesus allowed his persecutors to torture him out of love for us. We show a parallel love by denying ourselves. It is the same spiritual motivation that people show in sympathy actions – a wife giving up wine in support of her alcoholic husband or even a union showing solidarity with another that is on strike by calling a work stoppage. Also self-denial makes us morally stronger, again like Jesus. We exhibit control over our sensual appetites as well as the capacity to better appreciate their fulfillment on the day of glory.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Ash Wednesday
(Joel 2:12-18; II Corinthians 5:20-6:2; Matthew 6:1-6.16-18)
Before computers and electronic scanners it was quite common for a business to yearly set apart a few days, usually in January, to take inventory. During that time they closed the shop in order to check both the goods they had on hand and what they needed to obtain. It was a process that included every employee so that when the business reopened, all would know exactly how the company was doing.
It seems fair to consider Lent as a kind of inventory. We slow down not just for a few days but for six weeks to take account of our lives. Where we have been excessive – partying, perhaps – we want to slow down. Where we may have fallen short – maybe in praying or caring for the needy – we endeavor to make up for lost time. In the epistle today St. Paul pleads with the Corinthians to “be reconciled to God.” That is, they are to settle their accounts, as it were, with the Lord by asking forgiveness for their sins and redoubling efforts to live in accord with Christ’s grace.
“But six weeks is a mighty long inventory,” some might object. True, but we should not pretend that Lent is really a business operation. It is even more like a long retreat in the desert where we come to know the mercy of God as the Israelis did after the Exodus. It is meant to give us a new beginning each year, not in the sense that we go back to where we started from, but that we grow from the best that we were in the past by correcting mistakes and trying harder. It is coming to realize at least a bit more how we have been made members of God’s family with full rights of inheritance to eternal life.
(Joel 2:12-18; II Corinthians 5:20-6:2; Matthew 6:1-6.16-18)
Before computers and electronic scanners it was quite common for a business to yearly set apart a few days, usually in January, to take inventory. During that time they closed the shop in order to check both the goods they had on hand and what they needed to obtain. It was a process that included every employee so that when the business reopened, all would know exactly how the company was doing.
It seems fair to consider Lent as a kind of inventory. We slow down not just for a few days but for six weeks to take account of our lives. Where we have been excessive – partying, perhaps – we want to slow down. Where we may have fallen short – maybe in praying or caring for the needy – we endeavor to make up for lost time. In the epistle today St. Paul pleads with the Corinthians to “be reconciled to God.” That is, they are to settle their accounts, as it were, with the Lord by asking forgiveness for their sins and redoubling efforts to live in accord with Christ’s grace.
“But six weeks is a mighty long inventory,” some might object. True, but we should not pretend that Lent is really a business operation. It is even more like a long retreat in the desert where we come to know the mercy of God as the Israelis did after the Exodus. It is meant to give us a new beginning each year, not in the sense that we go back to where we started from, but that we grow from the best that we were in the past by correcting mistakes and trying harder. It is coming to realize at least a bit more how we have been made members of God’s family with full rights of inheritance to eternal life.
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