Friday, March 7, 2014

Friday after Ash Wednesday

(Isaiah 58:1-9a; Matthew 9:14-15)

Some wonder about the need to fast.  They point to Isaiah’s critique of Judah’s fasting in the first reading today and say working for social justice is what God requires.  For them serving sandwiches in a soup kitchen is a much better practice of Lenten piety than not eating ourselves.

But fasting is an age-old way of expressing love.  Through it one lays aside attention to her own needs, to assist others.  People deny themselves of sleep – a form of fasting -- to attend to a sick friend through the night.  Others do not eat as a kind of social protest to express solidarity with a group suffering persecution.

We do not fast –at least for religious reasons –as an exercise of our endurance.  No, we attach fasting to a felt need like expressing compassion for a group in distress or showing love for God.  We rightly see fasting along with almsgiving and prayer as part of a three-stranded rope that supports the heaviest tension.  We fast and pray.  We fast and give our food (or the money saved by not eating) to the poor.  In these ways we please God and neighbor.

Thursday, March 6, 2014

Thursday after Ash Wednesday

(Deuteronomy 30:15-20; Luke 9:22-25)

“Choose life.”  We have all seen bumper stickers with this anti-abortion message.  No doubt, people who feel burdened by an unexpected pregnancy find the message ironic.  To them life is being liberated from the responsibility of a child so that they may pursue their own felt needs.  Life, then, is one of those simple words with a range of meanings. 

In the reading from Deuteronomy today, Moses exhorts the Israelites to “choose life.”  He has in mind God’s righteousness that promises to benefit both individual and community.  By following God’s commandments not only the present generation but future ones as well will thrive.  As is his wont, Jesus radicalizes Moses’ message.  He says in today’s gospel that life comes when we choose to surrender ourselves to God’s love as he does.  This may mean even a renunciation of biological life, but his promise is for  unimagined, eternal in God.

We have chosen Jesus’ way to life.  But have we been faithful to that selection?  During Lent we test ourselves and make all necessary adjustments to renew the choice.  We can foresee ourselves safely back on the road to full life by Easter and happily partaking of it in the resurrection of the dead.

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Ash Wednesday

(Joel 2:12-18; II Corinthians 5:20-6:2; Matthew 6:1-6.16-18)

As silver tarnishes with time, we lose our baptismal innocence.  Our appetites deceive us in wanting more pleasure, power, or prestige than our due.  Our minds also can lead us astray.  Often we think that we might do a little evil in order to achieve a significant good.  This is the justification for artificial contraception.  But the resultant harm often enough lies beneath the surface and may not reveal itself for eons.  In any case, sin not only destroys us inwardly through the loss of innocence, but our downfall like silver that has lost its shine also results in others not being drawn to God.  In the second reading St. Paul asks us to reverse the process.

Paul could hardly be more attention-grabbing than when he writes that Christ became sin to save humans from their sinfulness.  He is not implying that Jesus was a kind of Robin Hood himself doing evil in order to bestow something good on humanity.  Rather he is saying that Jesus was executed as a criminal at the hands of a totally corrupt humanity represented by the jealous Jewish leaders, the brutal Roman authority, and the cowardly disciples.  Paul tells the Corinthians that they have been spared the necessity of such errant behavior.  They only have to take advantage of the gift by recognizing their sins.

The same is our task during Lent.  We first ask ourselves what sins are weighing us down – lust, harsh judgment, perhaps lying and cheating.  Then we confess our faults in the Sacrament of Reconciliation.  Finally, we use the rest of the forty days doing a penance that sets us on the road to reform.

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Tuesday of the Eighth Week in Ordinary Time

(I Peter 1:10-16; Mark 10:28-31)

Mardi Gras, of course, means Fat Tuesday.  In Europe and South America the day and period leading up to it is often called carnival, which comes from Latin words meaning plenty of meat.  Both expressions have the same implication: Christians gorge themselves on rich food as they contemplate the forty-day fast that lies ahead.  Of course, what may have once been an innocent way to see that no good food is wasted has turned into – at least, in some cases – an orgy.  One might ask if hardcore participants in today’s festivities will also really partake of the long penance to come.

The first reading today views Mardi Gras revelry with a gaunt eye.  It warns readers to “live soberly” so that they do not shun the grace that Jesus merited.  It further recommends that Christians strive for holiness – a quality of God that diverges from worldly decadence.

Our excitement today should not be limited to having a full meal at six and perhaps a nightcap before midnight.  We should also be thinking of how we will show our love for the Lord in the weeks ahead.  He has given us life and sustained it in myriad ways.  We might fast from sweets or perhaps pray regularly in front of an abortion clinic as a token of our appreciation.

Monday, March 3, 2014

(Optional) Memorial of St. Katharine Drexel, virgin

(I Peter 1:3-9; Mark 10:17-27)

Disciples are, it might be said, drafted by Jesus.  They receive a calling and are expected to present themselves promptly.  Jesus himself distinguishes this summons from the military draft.  He provides the companionship which is of far greater value then gold.  Unfortunately, the man in the gospel reading today fails to recognize this fact and retreats at Jesus’ beckoning.

St. Katharine Drexel, whose feast day is celebrated today, eagerly responded to a similar call.  Born into a wealthy family in the nineteenth century, Katharine entered the convent when she was thirty.  Eventually, she founded her own congregation dedicated to assisting native- and African-Americans.  She used her substantial inheritance for this purpose.

Most of us want to live normal lives.  We hope to have a family, a house and a car, plus some expendable income for McDonald’s or maybe Olive Garden.  Few, in the United States at least, would call these expectations ambitious.  But Jesus may be summoning us to something else.  Like the man in the gospel and St. Katharine Drexel, he might be calling us to follow him in a radical way.  If we take up the offer, we may not sleep quite as comfortably as others, but we are more likely to thank God when day is done.