The Ascension of our Lord

The Ascension of our Lord, celebrates the entry of Jesus’ humanity into divine glory in heaven, which took place forty days after his Resurrection (Acts 1:3). Liturgically, this feast is exactly 40 days after Easter, on Ascension Thursday, but most US dioceses celebrate this feast on the following Sunday.

When we think of the Paschal mystery of Christ we tend to think first of his suffering, death and resurrection. We think of Christ’s sacred Body and Blood which Christ freely offered in sacrifice for our sins. 

Properly understood, however, the Paschal mystery includes Christ’s entire incarnate life from his conception and birth to his glorious return to the Father in his Ascension. Jesus enters into heaven to be seated at the right hand of the Father, to rule for all eternity as King of Heaven and Earth.

We might rightly see this as a fitting end to his life on Earth but there is a much more profound meaning to the Ascension. I don’t know about you but, at first I wondered why the Ascension is so important.

The Catechism reminds us Christ accomplished the work or redemption “by the Paschal mystery of his blessed Passion, Resurrection from the dead, and glorious Ascension” (CCC 1067). The final work of ascending into heaven is an essential part of the whole process of the Paschal mystery.

St. Thomas reminds us in his famous hymn Adoro Te Devote

O loving Pelican! O Jesu Lord! Unclean I am but cleanse me in Thy Blood; Of which a single drop, for sinners spilt, Can purge the entire world from all its guilt (St. Thomas Aquinas).

In his limitless power and mercy, God could have saved us all by asking Christ to shed a single drop of his blood.

Yet in order to more fully demonstrate his love and mercy in a way that we would understand, God chose to become fully human and to endure the frailty and limits of earthly life. He freely chose to suffer torture at the hands of the Roman soldiers, and finally to endure the most painful death, in order that we would see with our frail human eyes the importance of this sacrifice. In order that we might more fully understand his love.

Likewise, when Christ rose from the dead, he could have done so completely healed of his wounds. Yet even in his glorious risen body, Christ chose to appear to his disciples, still bearing these wounds.

The sacred wounds of Christ are a visible manifestation of his love for us. Christ even entered his exalted state in Heaven with these same wounds (Revelation 5:6). These wounds are not just tokens of his love, but trophies of his victorious love for each one of us. These ugly gaping wounds are transformed into something beautiful and a sign of his victorious love for us.

If we think about what was necessary to satisfy the debt of our sins, we might begin in human terms thinking about paying off an enormous human debt. We might imagine someone working their whole life to pay off millions, or perhaps in our modern world, some gifted soul managing to pay off hundreds of billions. The problem is, because we are talking about paying a debt owed to God himself, we are essentially talking about an infinite debt for each one of us. In reality we mean billions upon billions of infinite debts for the sins of all humanity.

What kind of sacrifice would be necessary to pay this debt?

Only God himself could make this kind of satisfaction on our behalf. Jesus, who is fully God, chose to become a man, to join himself to our humanity. He did not just pay off our debts as some distant benefactor. This is not a heavenly trust fund for our benefit.

Furthermore it is not merely something external. God did not say, “Well you are still pretty much a putz, but I have paid off your debts, so now you are a forgiven putz.” After Jesus made a satisfaction for our sins through his own once for all sacrifice on the cross, he saved us by joining himself to us, so that we are slowly transformed from within, and become like him.

We are not still the old person with a coat of whitewash paint. St. Paul reminds us, “So whoever is in Christ is a new creation: the old things have passed away; behold, new things have come” (2 Co 5:17).

As we are reminded in Romans, we are literally joined to Christ through Baptism.

“Or are you unaware that we who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were indeed buried with him through baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live in the newness of life” (Rom 6:3–4, cf. Rom 6:8-11, and Galatians 3:27).

Baptism forgives our sins, and in cooperation with this grace, joins us to Christ through the Spirit for all eternity (Acts 2:38). Jesus has become the pattern of our salvation, the new Adam (Rom 5:15). We are a new creation and have been joined to a new Adam. It is in him, and with him and through him that we are saved, by being brought into Communion with him. This communion transforms us from within.

St Gregory of Nyssa points out that Jesus became the firstborn of the new spiritual creation. Taking up the image of firstborn and first fruits from the book of Exodus, this implies that by his bodily Ascension into heaven, Jesus becomes a kind of first fruits or firstborn offering to the Father.

In the book of Leviticus, the first fruits barley offering was the signal to begin the countdown to the Feast of Weeks or Pentecost, 50 days after the barley wave offering. "Beginning with the day after the sabbath, the day on which you bring the sheaf for elevation, you shall count seven full weeks; you shall count to the day after the seventh week, fifty days (Leviticus 23:15–16). At Pentecost second first fruits offering of wheat was made (Exodus 34:22) followed by “the bread of the first fruits” (Leviticus 23:20) which was made from the initial wheat harvest.

Jesus ascended on the 40th day (Acts 1:3), and sent the Spirit ten days later at Pentecost (Acts 2:2-4). The intervening nine days between these events were a period of prayerful waiting and watching (Acts 1:4). This is the origin of the practice of praying nine day novenas.

For the ancient Israelites, "first fruits" meant more than merely the first to be born of the herds and flocks or the first ripe harvest. They believed that the whole was contained in the first part which was offered (Rom 11:16). When the first part was offered to God, then the whole of the crops or the herds were sanctified along with it. Using this way of thinking the whole is contained and even concentrated in the first fruits.

We often see this way of thinking in the New Testament. We are joined to Christ’s Body and he is the Head (1 Corinthians 12:13) . He is the Vine and we are the branches (John 15). The consecrated Bread which we eat in the Eucharist is a participation or communion with Christ (1 Cor 10:16-17).

By offering his own sacred humanity to the Father, Jesus makes a way to sanctify the whole of humanity. Jesus becomes the new or second Adam (Rom 5:15). By entering the heavenly Temple in his sacred humanity, Jesus consecrates and the new creation initiated in the incarnation. Christ offers and sanctifies his humanity and becomes for us the font and origin of ascended life.

St. Thomas Aquinas notes that, “Christ's Ascension is the direct cause of our ascension, as by beginning it in Him who is our Head, with whom the members must be united” (ST, III, 57, 6). Aquinas highlights three effects of the Ascension. First by his Ascension Christ prepared a way for us to enter heaven (John 14:2). Secondly, just as the high priest entered the sanctuary into God's presence to represent the people, Christ entered heaven to intercede for us. And finally, enthroned in heaven as God and Lord, Christ will send down gifts upon men (Eph. 4:10).

What does the Ascension mean for each of us personally?

In the Acts of the Apostles we are told that the Ascension is directly related to the promise of the coming of the Holy Spirit. The disciples are promised that in a few days they would be “baptized with the Holy Spirit” (Acts 1:5). This baptism would be the source and power of their ministry. “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” (Acts 1:8). Mark likewise affirms that “These signs will accompany those who believe” (Mark 16:17, cf. John 14:12) with a list of supernatural deeds of the Spirit to follow.

The Ascension allows Christ to release from heaven the promised Holy Spirit. As his disciples we are called to imitate his ministry of preaching the Gospel and healing the sick (John 14:12). Through the Spirit we are enabled to enter into a new intimate relationship with God, to become friends of God (John 15:15). The Spirit now within us cries out ‘Abba father’ in our hearts (Romans 8:15).

The Ascension is an invitation to a new level of intimacy with God. It is the font and origin of a new ascended life. Earlier in John’s Gospel Jesus declared, “Let anyone who thirsts come to me and drink” (John 7:37), John tells us that Jesus “said this in reference to the Spirit that those who came to believe in him were to receive” (John 7:39).

Do you thirst for greater intimacy with God? Then come to Jesus and drink. Jesus wishes to offer each one of us a personal Pentecost. Lord Jesus, come by your Spirit and fill the hearts of your faithful.



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Love brings joy to obedience

I have spent a good deal of my life as a teacher, in public school, then as a college instructor, and catechist. I also trained and supervised instructors.

I recall once observing a young instructor in an adult education class who blurted out a controversial remark during his talk. His comment was unnecessary and very ill timed. When he did this, he literally lost his class for 10 minutes. Everyone in the room stopped listening to his talk, and began talking to each other at their tables about his remark. To put this in modern terms, he triggered the entire class with his comment.

Witnessing this, reminded me that we bring our own thoughts and ideas with us when we listen to someone talk. Therefore, I want to ask you to pause for a minute and think.

What thoughts come immediately to mind when you hear Jesus say these words?

“Whoever loves me will keep my word,
and my Father will love him,

and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him.
Whoever does not love me does not keep my words;

yet the word you hear is not mine
but that of the Father who sent me."

This may not be the case for you, but sometimes I wonder if these words reinforcing the idea that, God wants me to earn his approval by being good, or by obeying him. After all does not Jesus say, “Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him?”

While I do not believe that I save myself by being good, it is also true that God still requires a response. I must offer my faith, my repentance, and my surrender to Him. Ultimately, this is about relationship. What is my identity in Christ? Is God the type of person who wants me to earn his approval by being good, or by obeying him?

I imagine many of you have found yourself motivated like this. Could you be struggling to be a good person so that you will earn God’s approval? Perhaps you have never reflected on this, but… does your identity in Christ lead you to earn God’s approval by being good? If so, what is the fruit of seeing God in this way?

If I allow myself to begin thinking this way, the motivation for being good is a certain fear or insecurity that God might reject me if I am bad. If I have experienced previous rejection or shame, then in order to avoid those feelings, I work hard to be a good person so that I will not feel anxious.

If I am not careful, I could find myself struggling to be a good person so that God will look at me and approve of me. Perhaps you have never reflected on this. Has this ever happened to you? 

Have you ever tried to earn God’s approval by being good?

If you are the kind of person who feels successful at being good, then you might say to yourself, “I obeyed God, therefore I am accepted.” It is as if you are say, “God you should accept me, because I am basically a good person.” When things are going well, we feel confident in our relationship with God. Very often, however, when we are doing well we also become proud and we lack patience with those who are struggling and seem to fail at being good.

Very few of us, however, are completely successful at being good. If we think that God accepts us only if we obey him and are good, then how do we react when we fail? How do we respond to the feelings of shame when someone corrects us? If our whole identity is tied up in being a “good person” we often either become angry or discouraged and depressed when criticized, because it attacks our identity.

1. False identity in Christ.

Thinking that God wants us to earn his acceptance, flows from a false identity in Christ. God does not want us to understand our relationship with him as being, neutral or even negative. We do not need to earn his favor before having relationship with him. The truth is exactly the opposite. “I am accepted, therefore, I obey.” We are accepted! 

I obey God not to earn favor or things from God, but to get God himself, and to delight in my relationship with him as a child of God. After all God accepted me first without any merit on my part.

2. God loved us first

Even when we are in midst of failure, God loves us first. As St. Paul reminds us, “But God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). The plan of God’s love for us, reaches back to the beginning of time. Ephesians reminds us; “He chose us in him, before the foundation of the world, to be holy and without blemish before him. In love he destined us for adoption to himself through Jesus Christ, in accord with the favor of his will” (Ephesians 1:4–5). God is not grudgingly fulfilling his promise to love us and always on the verge of changing his mind depending on how we behave.

When God created the first man and woman in the image and likeness of God, he knew they would fall and had already planned to have Christ become the new Adam to take their place and to redeem the image of God. God’s plan of love for each one of us existed before creation itself.

He has always wanted to adopt us as his children. As Ephesians reminds us, God “destined us for adoption to himself through Jesus Christ” (Ephesians 1: 5).

3. In the presence of God, we experience delight or joy

This is a natural truth. In the presence of goodness, beauty and truth we spontaneously experience delight and awe. Beautiful music, beautiful art, even witnessing an amazing athletic performance spontaneously makes us praise what we see, and even causes us to want to share that feeling with others. Everything in our life that is truly good, beautiful, or true is a reflection of the goodness, beauty, or truth found in the creator.

We are not an afterthought, or some unwanted and unexpected child. We are destined, chosen, or elected like the people of God in the Old Testament. The Lord told his people in Deuteronomy, they were not chosen because they were especially good or obedient beforehand, but “because the LORD loved” them (Deuteronomy 7:7-8). They became God’s children out God’s abundant love and mercy.

4. In relation to obedience, the experience of God’s love, brings joy to obedience.

When I experience relationship with God, in a certain sense I feel his pleasure. I delight in my relationship with him as a child of God. I am confident not in my own wobbly performance but in the sure fact that God accepts me without any merit on my part.

St. Paul tells us that in order to create our own family resemblance as sons and daughters of God “the love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us” (Roman 5:5). The Holy Spirit is transforming and renewing us from within. 

Writing to the Corinthians, St. Paul reveals our new identity in Christ, “Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. All of us, gazing with unveiled face on the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, as from the Lord who is the Spirit” (2 Corinthians 3:17–18, cf. 2 Cor 5:17).

Yet this inheritance something we need to “take possession of” (Ephesians 1:14). It requires our cooperation. We need to have the “eyes of our hearts enlightened” by the Holy Spirit. (Ephesians 1:18). We need to begin in humility, and detachment and to spend time with God in prayer.

Notice that when Jesus says,

“Whoever loves me will keep my word,

and my Father will love him,

He continues,

and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him.

Jesus explains that this promised indwelling will be the Holy Spirit who will “to teach us” and “remind us” of Jesus’ way of life and will give us peace.

Our obedience is the fruit of our cooperation with an inner transformation of our hearts by the Holy Spirit. Our obedience is our inheritance as sons and daughters of God. It is a revelation of our family resemblance. Flowing from interior awareness of God’s love and acceptance, our obedience is an act of grateful joy. It is the fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22-23). Love brings joy to obedience.

Does all of this sound a bit complicated? Would it not it just be easier to tell people to obey the rules? The problem is, without understanding our identity in Christ, rules without relationship lead to anxiety, anger, pride, an ultimately to rebellion. St. Paul reminds the Galatians, “For freedom Christ set us free; so stand firm and do not submit again to the yoke of slavery” (Galatians 5:1). But love brings joy to obedience.

We must begin by saying, “I know that I am God’s child and that he loves me. Even if I sometimes fail to be “good,” it is not my performance that is identity, but my relationship with God.”

Yet, St. Paul cautions the Galatians, “Walk by the Spirit, and do not gratify the desires of the flesh” (Galatians 5:16). How do we know if we are guided by the Spirit or walking by the Spirit? By the fruit of our life (Galatians 5:22-23). As Jesus says, “Whoever loves me will keep my word.” The power to do this however comes through relationship with the indwelling of Spirit. As Jesus said, “we will come to him and make our dwelling with him.” Once again, love brings joy to obedience.

As we anticipate the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost in two weeks, let us open our hearts anew praying, “Come Holy Spirit! Renew the hearts of your faithful, and enkindle in us the fire of your love.” Fill us with your love, so that we might experience the joy of life in you as your child. Let me rest in your love.




Sixth Sunday of Easter, Year C (Lectionary: 57)
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“Love, and do what you want?

Like some of you perhaps, I grew up in the 1960 and 70’s. “Love” was a very popular idea. In 1968, the Beatles released their hit song “All you need is love.” The culture of the 1960’s understood “Love” as something very personal, private, and sentimental. Many people seemed to think that as long as you attempted to cultivate a kind of warm sentiment in your heart towards others, called love, you could pretty much do whatever you wanted.  In the words of this Beatles song “There's nothin' you can do that can't be done/ Nothin' you can sing that can't be sung.”

I wonder if the Beatles read St. Augustine, who once famously said “Love, and do what you want?”[1] This is one of St. Augustine’s most famous, and often abused and misquoted lines.

No one who has actually read Augustine’s homily, where this quote appears, would think he meant that one could "do as you please" as long as you have the right sentiment. The line is a rhetorical flourish on Augustine’s part, intended to shock his listeners. For Augustine, love is not merely a sentiment but a rightly ordered virtue. If you like, there is a kind of grammar to love. In the mind of St Augustine, love needs to be rightly ordered to be a genuine kind of love.

We might want to note that as humans our capacity to love is quite diverse. We can love our dog, or football, or perhaps even wine or cars. When it comes to loving people however, we generally talk of family and friendship. In a more special sense, we have deeper relationships in which there is a lover and a beloved. Love is not something fuzzy and disengaged from our life. We cannot love what we do not know.[2] Knowledge of the other thing or person leads to a kind of desire to be closer and to grasp the thing we see, or in the case of persons, to allow them to enter our thoughts and feelings and so in a sense become part of us. We hold them in our heart and we join ourselves to them in love.

As I mentioned, rightly ordering our love for St. Augustine is a way of acknowledging the movement of our heart with its desires. The things that we do, or our behavior is always a response to what is going on in the heart – of what we love. If our heart I rightly ordered, then it seeks to love God and neighbor. This movement begins in our heart but is supernaturalized by God through the grace of the Holy Spirit. Sacramental grace and interior conversion lead us to new life.

For St. Augustine, this grace is the source of Christian love.  God loved us first. While we were still sinners, Jesus Christ came and sacrificed himself for our sins (Roman 5:8, 1 John 4:9). By this sacrifice, we received his love. Love is born in our hearts as we receive his gift.

As St. John notes in his letter, “Beloved, let us love one another, because love is of God; everyone who loves is begotten by God and knows God. Whoever is without love does not know God, for God is love. (1 John 4:7–8). St. Augustine comments, “Love is from God and Love is God. … But when you hear from God, either the Son or the Holy Spirit is understood.” [3] As St. Paul tells us, “hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us” (Romans 5:5). The newness that Jesus refers to in our Gospel is the supernatural grace of the Holy Spirit working through his disciples as they imitate our Lord. “As I have loved you, so you also should love one another” (John 13:34).

This love only occurs in relationships. It involves a lover and the beloved. The foundation of love is relationship. As St Thomas notes, “But the effect of love, when the beloved object is possessed, is pleasure: when it is not possessed, it is desire” (STh., I-II q.25 a.2 resp.).  

For Christian love, that relationship is first with God. It is the mission of the Son to make this relationship possible. Jesus makes it possible for us to know God and enter a relationship with him.  More than this even to enjoy friendship with him (John 15:15).  

Yet it is the specific continuing mission of the Holy Spirit to share God’s love with us in the realm of desire (Romans 5:5). Love is not merely an intellectual knowledge of the faith followed by obedience, but certain inclinations and desires, even passions of the heart towards God. The Son reveals the saving knowledge of God, while the Spirit imparts God’s desire, as we all return to the mercy and love of Father. In the end, the love of God is a personal experience of each of the three persons of the Holy Trinity. “If you see charity, you see the Trinity”, wrote Saint Augustine. (De Trinitate, VIII, 8, 12).

We must grasp the newness of this relational idea of love. Love does not act out of fear and obey God in order to gain his acceptance. Rules without relationship, do not lead to love.  Instead, the beloved experiences love and acceptance and with joy obeys out of love.

We obey God in order to deepen our relationship with him.  Humility demands that I recognize my shortcomings and failures, but at the same time, I must depend on God’s grace to overcome these faults, trust in his love for me. He has made me a child of God (Romans 8:15, Galatians 4:16).

My heart is not something I need to reject or suppress in order to be holy, but a living canvas upon which the Holy Spirit slowly paints a new and deeper understanding of the world as God sees it.  By redeeming and rightly ordering our hearts, we are able to embrace all of the creation, which God has made good from the beginning. By rightly ordering the things of creation, we avoid the sin of idolatry, and offer them back to God in praise to the Creator.

As St. Augustine notes,

“Think of ordinary human love; think of it as the hand of the soul. If it’s holding one thing, it can’t hold another. To be able to hold something it’s given, it must let go of what it is already holding.” [4]

In friendship and love with God, how can we allow our human loves to be truly the hand of the soul?  This can only occur in interior surrender to God in our prayer. “Lord, your will be done not mine.” Yet if our friendship with God has grown, we will know that he loves us, and trust that he desires only good things for his children (Matthew 7:11). As Jesus reminded the crowds a few chapters earlier in John, “I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly” (John 10:10).

Lord, you created life in all its beauty and abundance. May we praise you Lord, as we stand in awe of your Greatness. We trust in your love for each one of us. Let my heart rest in your love and may this love overflow to the world around me!

 

 Notes

---

[1](dilige, et quod vis fac) Saint Augustine, Homilies on the First Epistle of John (Tractatus in Epistolam Joannis Ad Parthos), ed. Daniel E. Doyle, Thomas Martin, and Boniface Ramsey, trans. Boniface Ramsey, vol. 14, The Works of Saint Augustine: A Translation for the 21st Century (Hyde Park, NY: New City Press, 2008), 110.

[2] “For if it does not know itself, it does not love itself.” Augustine of Hippo, The Trinity, ed. Hermigild Dressler, trans. Stephen McKenna, vol. 45, The Fathers of the Church (Washington, DC: The Catholic University of America Press, 1963), 274.

[3] Saint Augustine, Homilies on the First Epistle of John (Tractatus in Epistolam Joannis Ad Parthos), ed. Daniel E. Doyle, Thomas Martin, and Boniface Ramsey, trans. Boniface Ramsey, vol. 14, The Works of Saint Augustine: A Translation for the 21st Century (Hyde Park, NY: New City Press, 2008), 108.

[4] Saint Augustine, Sermons 94A–147A on the New Testament, ed. John E. Rotelle, trans. Edmund Hill, vol. 4, The Works of Saint Augustine: A Translation for the 21st Century (Brooklyn, NY: New City Press, 1992), 258.

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Are the People who Suffer Worse Sinners?

Why do bad things sometimes happen to good people? If people suffer and become victims of a crime, or experience a natural tragedy, does this mean God is punishing them for their sins? Does it mean that God does not love them?

I think most of us would not think this way, for example, about the Ukrainian people who are suffering through an armed invasion of their homeland. Yet astoundingly there have been a few eccentric voices in the modern Ukrainian “war news” cycle, who have tried to blame the victims.

In the case of the two tragedies Jesus mentions in our Gospel, Jesus asks, are the people who suffered like this, worse sinners than all the other people who did not suffer these tragedies.

Did God judge them because of their excessive sin? Is God giving back to people what they deserved? Unfortunately, there are people even in our modern world, who still think suffering is a just desert for sins. The victims must have done something bad to deserve this.

While some personal sins can be the direct cause of our suffering, this would not normally be the case if someone is the victim of a crime, or suffers in some natural disaster, or tragic mishap.

Are people who suffer worse sinners than us? What does our faith teach us? The reality is we are all sinners. As St. Paul reminds us, “For there is no distinction; all have sinned and are deprived of the glory of God (Romans 3:22b-23). The just punishment for each one of us is not merely suffering and death, but eternal death. We deserve the just punishment of eternal separation from God.

Apart from God’s mercy, we all deserve punishment for our sins. None of us wants to face God’s justice in this way. We should not desire God’s strict justice, but his mercy. As our psalm refrain reminds us, “The Lord is kind and merciful.” In mercy, Jesus says two times in response, “By no means! But I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!” (Luke 13:3, 5).

Jesus answers with an emphatic, no! By no means are people who suffer worse sinners than those who do not. Then Jesus adds a very important word “but.” Religious people who blame the victim, and show no mercy, are liable to a much greater punishment. Jesus says, “But I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!” (Luke 13:3, 5).

The first step in our own conversion is to cooperate with the Holy Spirit and to become aware of our own sinfulness, so that we can repent. We must begin in humility and become aware of our brokenness. We must become childlike and docile to the prompting of the Holy Spirit (Luke 10:21).

Ironically the closer we come to God, the more aware of our brokenness we become. St. John reminds us in his first letter, “If we say, ‘We are without sin,’ we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us” (1 John 1:8). If a person thinks they have arrived at perfection, and they look down on others in sinful contempt, they are deceived! The truth is not in them!

St. John Paul II has reminded us; Jesus' primary mission in his earthly life was to reveal the love and mercy of the Father to a broken humanity. To offer them hope, and to call them to repentance. Jesus did this both in his words and in his actions.

The most profound revelation of this truth was Jesus’ sacrifice of love on the cross. Jesus came to suffer and die for our sins and to join himself to our human sufferings to bring meaning to our sufferings. God’s mercy is available to everyone, but it requires our cooperation to bear the fruit of mercy in our life.

The idea that sinners are cut off from receiving God’s mercy is completely false. In fact, Jesus’ priority was not towards the righteous, but to reach out to sinners. Jesus reminds, “I have not come to call the righteous to repentance but sinners” (Luke 5:32, cf. Rom 5:8). Because of God’s mercy, God rejects no one for being a sinner. However, God does require our response or our cooperation with his offer of grace.

On the other hand, to reject this mercy is a fearful thing. A mixed up person might believe they must first make themselves acceptable to God, through their own effort. In effect, to earn their own salvation.

Jesus does call us to become aware of our sins, and to confess our sins with contrition, then to repent and follow him. While requiring this response, grace is a gift from God.

This is completely different from thinking that I can earn my way to God through my own good works. As if we could create a ladder constructed by our unaided good works that would reach up to heaven.

St. Paul reminds us, “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not from you; it is the gift of God; it is not from works, so no one may boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9).

Apart from God’s grace and mercy, we cannot be saved. We do not earn our way to heaven by our good works (CCC 2092). Our good works are instead the fruit of our conversion and of a changed life moved interiorly by the Spirit. Each of us should see fruit in our life. If we cannot point to this fruition our life, there is a problem. Yet when we see fruit in our life, is the result and not the means of our salvation.

The completely wrong-headed notion that we can save ourselves by good works, is at the very heart of what Jesus confronts in our Gospel. Those who think they are saving themselves by their own works become self-righteous. They look down on others as sinners, often in hypocrisy. Because they have become proud of their own good works, they focus on the rules, and they want justice, but are unwilling to offer mercy to others.

Jesus' strongest condemnations in the Gospels are against those who fail to show mercy, and against their hypocrisy (Luke 6:39-45). Jesus says, “Be merciful, just as [also] your Father is merciful. Stop judging and you will not be judged. Stop condemning and you will not be condemned. Forgive and you will be forgiven” (Luke 6:36–37).

In Matthew’s Gospel Jesus makes an even stronger statement. Echoing the words of the Our Father prayer, “Forgive us our transgressions as we forgive those who transgress against us,” Jesus warns, “But if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your transgressions” (Matthew 6:15).

We end with Jesus’ parable of the Barren Fig Tree. This parable is a call to examine our hearts. First, we should note that the “gardener” is patient and merciful. Even though the fig tree is currently barren, he holds out hope. Yet, this mercy has a time limit. If the fig tree continues to fail to cooperate, it will eventually be “cut down” (13:9).

During this season of Lent, Jesus asks us to be truly honest and vulnerable. Is our life bearing the fruit of Jesus’ mercy and love? Is our tree barren or fruitful? Do we understand that we are not saving ourselves by our own good works, but instead that we are all sinners, utterly dependent on God’s mercy?

Have we surrendered our life to Jesus, and made him the center of our life? This is the meaning of being Jesus' disciple and the essence of our ongoing conversion. If we have done this, what can we give him in thanks for this great gift of his love?

 

THIRD SUNDAY OF LENT YEAR C

First Reading: Exodus 3:1–8a, 13–15; Psalm 103:1–4, 6–8, 11; Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 10:1–6, 10–1; Gospel: Luke 13:1–9

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Transforming Glory

In our modern world one of the perennial questions is, “If God is a loving and all-powerful God why does he allow me to suffer?” I wonder, have you ever thought like this? I know I have.

One author has comment on our modern outlook noting, we have too much to live with, too little to live for. For many people the dream we live for is to gather as many toys as possible so that we can entertain ourselves and live in comfort. In the pursuit of this dream, many people give themselves permission to take any road they choose, and nothing has value unless it leads to our comfort in this life.

The very idea of suffering is an affront to this dream. We cry out “Why me? God if you really love me, you would not permit me to suffer like this.”

Yet, we are dreaming in color. The cold hard truth is that eventually we all suffer. Suffering in this life is unavoidable. The most foundational lesson in Jesus’ discipleship is not to avoid suffering but to find meaning in our suffering and to join our sufferings to Christ.

It is important to realize that Jesus’ central mission on earth was to suffer, and we are his disciples. Disciples imitate their masters. Notice St. Paul’s words about discipleship in our second reading. “Join with others in being imitators of me, brothers and sisters, and observe those who thus conduct themselves according to the model you have in us” (Philippians 3:17). As the Apostle Paul says elsewhere, “Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ” (1 Corinthians 11:1).

Disciples seek to become, in every little way, like the master. We must seek to imitate Jesus. In the previous chapter Jesus tells his disciples, “If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23).

In this Sunday’s Gospel, we accompany Jesus and his inner circle of apostles on a final lesson of discipleship leading up to Jesus ultimate act of sacrifice. Immediately after the transfiguration, St. Luke tells us Jesus “set his face to go to Jerusalem” where he would suffer and die on the cross.

The transfiguration marks the end of Jesus earthly ministry in Galilee, and the transition to the road to his passion. At this all-important and difficult moment, the first thing Jesus models is prayer.

I do not know about you, but I often give in to grumbling about my sufferings. Even in little things. I might complain I have a sore throat; that my knees hurt, that I had a bad sleep last night, or that a person treated me unjustly. My first thought is not to follow my master and “go up on a mountain to pray” (9:28).

Luke tells us that as Jesus was praying, he became transfigured, “his face changed in appearance and his clothing became dazzling white” (9:29). Luke uses some unusual words, which mean that Jesus’ clothing became bright gleaming white and began to flash or gleam like lightning, or to become radiant.

Even as modern reader, this is amazing, but we may not catch the significance of all the details for a Jewish reader in Jesus’ day. There is a significant parallel between Jesus experiences here at the transfiguration, and Moses, for someone familiar with the Book of Exodus.

The 'horns' of Moses
depict this radiance.

Obviously, Moses appears to Jesus and talks with him, but there are many other parallels to the Exodus narrative. Moses went up on a mountain to pray, and he took three companions with him, Aaron, Nadab, and Abihu (Exodus 24:1). When Moses came down from the mountain “the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God” (Exodus 34:29).

Moses and Elijah appear to Jesus and “spoke of his exodus or departure from this life.”

Light and cloud, lightning and smoke are motifs from Exodus signifying the presence of God. When the people of Israel journeyed in the desert they were accompanied by a column of fire during the night, and by a column of cloud during the day (Exodus 13:21–22). Peter, John, and James saw Jesus’ glory, and a cloud came and overshadowed them. These are the same signs of God’s presence we see in Exodus where the “the cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle” (Exodus 40:34).

Near the end of his life in Deuteronomy, Moses promises a prophet like him would arise, “A prophet like me will the LORD, your God, raise up for you from among your own kindred; that is the one to whom you shall listen.” (Deuteronomy 18:15).

Yet, Jesus is more than a second Moses. In the words of the Archangel Gabriel at the beginning of the Gospel, Jesus is “the Son of the Most High” (Luke 1:32), and a few verses later the “the Son of God” (Luke 1:34). The “voice from heaven” at Jesus Baptism declares, “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased” (Lk 3:22). In our Gospel today, the voice from the cloud declares, “This is my chosen Son; listen to him.”

Luke emphasizes the uniqueness of Jesus as the chosen Son and the words “listen to him” likely echo Moses’ promise of a prophet like him, “the one to whom you shall listen.” (Deuteronomy 18:15).

If we keep in mind both the uniqueness of Jesus as God’s Son, and his role as a rabbi or master leading disciples, then we might ask; “What is Jesus modelling for us through this event?” Surely, we are not to believe that each one of use will experience a mountain top transfiguration in imitation of Jesus.

Here is it interesting to see what later disciples of Jesus understood by this event. In Second Corinthians, St. Paul compares the brightness of Moses face with Jesus. The brightness of Moses face was fading and temporary. In the new dispensation of righteousness or the age of the Spirit, Christ has taken the veil away and given us a permanent and greater splendor (2 Corinthians 3). In Christ Jesus, the Spirit enters each one of us and transforms us from within.

St. Paul notes,

“All of us, gazing with unveiled face on the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, as from the Lord who is the Spirit” (2 Corinthians 3:18).

For each one of us the goal of our prayer should be intimacy with God, and by experiencing his love within us to be progressively (from glory to glory) transformed into his, image by the Spirit.

As St. Paul notes, “He will change our lowly body to conform with his glorified body by the power that enables him also to bring all things into subjection to himself” (Philippians 3:21). In speaking of our resurrected heavenly bodies, St. Paul observes the differences between us, “The brightness of the sun is one kind, the brightness of the moon another, and the brightness of the stars another. For star differs from star in brightness” (1 Corinthians 15:41). As Jesus notes, “Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father” (Matthew 13:43).

While the church teaches that the faithful will all share in this quality of glory, it will not be in the same degree. We will not be equal or identical in heaven, but some will shine brighter than others because of differing degree of holiness. We are equal in attaining eternal life, but not with the same reward. (St. Augustine, Sermon 37.6, St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae I, q. 12.6, DS 1305, Council of Trent: Decree on the Sacraments, Can. 31, DS 1581).

Jesus gives us this example of prayer in the face of profound suffering to remind us that our vision must look beyond the horizon of this life. We must draw close to him and be filled with the Spirit. Like him, the Spirit cries out in our hearts, “Abba Father” and reminds us that we are his children, his chosen ones. We must not confuse this human experience of glory with the uniqueness of Jesus as the very Son of God, but we share in this inheritance, we are adopted heirs to this same family. So then, in the quietness of our prayers, let us gaze with unveiled faces on the glory of his Son and so be transformed from within by his love from glory to glory.

Endurance in the Face of Temptation

This week’s Gospel about the Temptation of Jesus in the desert reminds us of the issue of temptations in our life.

We all have different backgrounds and personalities so likely no two of us are tempted in exactly the same way. One person may find it hard to tell the truth in a difficult situation or when trapped between loyalty to two different friends. Another person may find it hard not to have his or her curiosity filled up by the latest unproven rumor about someone in the office. Others may struggle to control or regulate their emotions or appetites. No two of us are alike but we are all tempted to do sinful things from time to time. Temptation itself is not a sin. If we resist temptation, we actually gain graces.

I am not sure about you, but I often fail to resist temptation. Giving in to a sinful temptation never makes me feel good about myself. I always wish that I were stronger. Sometimes I look back and ask myself, “Why did you do that?”

I wonder if you have ever felt like this? Is there some strategy we can follow to build our resistance to temptation?

When we read the Temptation of Jesus in the Gospel, we notice the devil as a source of temptation. Maybe we should blame the devil for all our temptations?
The truth is that we are actually tempted from three sources in our lives. Traditionally we have described them as the world, the flesh and the devil. While not in this traditional order, the devil presents Jesus with these same three temptations. The devil tempts Jesus with grasping the power and glory the world. Jesus is tempted by the flesh to turn stones into loaves of bread, and to worship Satan and put God to a sinful test.

Christian tradition has seen these same three sources of temptation in other passages of scripture (Ephesians 2:1–3a, 1 John 2:16).

And you he made alive, when you were dead through the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience. Among these we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, following the desires of body and mind … (Ephesians 2:1–3).

St. Paul mentions the course of this world, the prince of the power of the air (or the Devil) and the passions of our flesh.

Realizing that there are three sources of temptation, enables each one of us to take responsibility in a more personal way, since the flesh or our own human desires of body and mind come from within us.

In another passage St. Paul talks about temptation itself, using the same word as in our Gospel,

“No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your strength, but with the temptation will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it” (1 Corinthians 10:13).

The Apostle Paul does not mean we all face identical temptations, but that being tempted in general is the common lot of all fallen human persons.

Perhaps we should note that some translations confuse the meaning of this verse by translating “no trials have overtaken you” (NABRE). We need to be clear that nowhere in Scripture does God promise we will necessarily deliver us from all suffering. This verse promises instead that God will make a way of escape for us from sinful temptations.

If this is true, why do we still fail?

If we look to the example of Jesus in our Gospel, we observe that first of all Jesus was “filled with the Spirit” and “led by the Spirit” before encountering his temptations. St. Paul reminds us that the Holy Spirit is our strength and the source of our power against temptations. He writes,

“I say, then: live by the Spirit and you will certainly not gratify the desire of the flesh” (Galatians 5:16).

The promise of strength and endurance in the face of temptations comes not only from our own strength. We do need to struggle ourselves! In order to escape and resist temptation, the Holy Spirit assists by giving us supernatural grace. This is what St. Paul means by being made alive, and to walk in the Spirit.

As we are encouraged to do during this season of Lent, Jesus also undertakes the discipline of fasting. He even resists his normal healthy bodily appetites for a time, allowing himself to be hungry. In Jesus' case, this fast is of epic or perhaps we should say biblical proportions. St. Luke tells us Jesus “ate nothing” for forty days. Then in what is the most understated verse in the whole of Scripture tells us, when the forty days were over “he was hungry” (Luke 4:2).

Jesus models something else as well. For each one of the temptations he faces, Jesus answers the Devil by quoting from the Bible. We have no indication that Jesus carried scrolls of Scripture texts with him into the desert. To prepare his life for the mission God had called him to; Jesus had spent time being docile to his Father by reading and learning Scripture. He had immersed himself in Scripture to the point that he knew it by heart. This was no casual reading, but an effort to immerse himself in the heart of the Father. As Jesus tells us elsewhere in the Gospels, As the Father says and does, so the Son says and does. Jesus is modeling being a disciple of the Father’s love and mercy, a disciple who desires to be like the Father in every way.

This is the same vision he passes on to us. In St. John’s Gospel Jesus says, “If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” (John 8:31–32).

As we enter this Lenten season, let us first offer a prayer to be filled with the Spirit. Let us be willing to resist our bodily desires by means of fasting and small mortifications. 

Finally, let us renew our focus on our relationship with God. We may need to create some silence, and to discipline ourselves in prayer. Perhaps we might ask ourselves, if I truly desire to be the child of God and his disciple, have I spent time reading his word with a docile heart, seeking to become like him in every aspect of my life?

"When fully trained, every disciple will be like his teacher.”

I would like to ask you to imagine with me the following scene. A man goes to Confession and tells the priest, “Father, I have not been to Confession for twenty years.” The priest is very pleased to see him return, and greets him very warmly. Then with some help from the priest, he comes to the part of Confession where he confesses his sins. The man says, “I know it has been twenty years, but I can’t think of any sins to confess.” 

There is a long pause and then, the priest gives the man absolution, and as part of his penance asks him to pick up a copy of an Examination of Conscience found outside the Confessional and asks the man to think and pray about what he learns from this experience.

Now perhaps this man is some kind of natural saint who has intuitively learned to follow his better nature. I don’t know about you, but for me this is extremely unlikely. It is much more likely that his conscience has simply fallen asleep. He may actually be waking up at this point and he needs a double espresso from the Holy Spirit!

I wonder have you ever gone to Confession and struggled to think of what sins you are going to confess. It is very likely that this is not because you are sinless, but because you have allowed yourself to live on the surface and in the moment and have not entered into yourself very deeply.

At first glance, Jesus words in our gospel appears to be a kind of word salad filled with various metaphors. When we read a passage like this, we often find ourselves triggered by a particular verse that strikes us. Jesus asks, “Can a blind person guide a blind person?

Clearly, an effective leader cannot have their eyes closed, or be unable to see. The next verse is actually the key verse to this passage; Jesus refers to the notion of discipleship.

We are so used to hearing this word ‘disciple,’ that many of us have forgotten what it means. Jesus says, “No disciple is superior to the teacher; but when fully trained, every disciple will be like his teacher.”

Unlike our modern world, discipleship is not the same as ‘education.’ Discipleship was an apprenticeship in the life and teachings of the master. Discipleship primarily focused the imitation of the master to the point of actually becoming the other person in every little way.

Many years ago, I worked as an assistant in a large commercial cafeteria. When I was assisting the baker, I would literally add 20 pounds of flour and gallons of milk, but after we began mixing the dough, the baker would put his hand in the dough and determine whether we need to adjust the recipe with more liquid or more flour. This is not something you learn from a book. As Jesus notes, “when fully trained, every disciple will be like his teacher.” Discipleship was most of all an apprenticeship in the life of the master.

Jesus moves on to a new metaphor to explain how this might work. If we tried to picture this in our mind, this is would literally be a cartoon. Jesus asks, “Why do you notice the splinter in your brother’s eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own?”

This is a highly exaggerated metaphor. Jesus contrasts a speck, a word meaning a small flake of wood with a wooden beam, or the main load bearing beam of a building. Only in a kind of cartoon image could we imagine someone with this kind of wooden beam stilling out of his or her eye!

This person has failed to become a disciple or apprentice to the life of mercy and love that Jesus has been modelling.

Jesus says, “You hypocrite!” We experience shocked offence when we see obvious hypocrisy. “Why do you notice the splinter in your brother’s eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own?

Jesus asks us to begin with a humble self-examination of our hearts. Next, we must remove our own faults, only then can we see clearly to help someone else.

Our modern world often wants to make our faith something personal and private. Many people believe that faith is completely personal, and something that no one else should interfere with. In the name of being inclusive we should never judge another person. Each one of us has the right to follow our own feelings in matters of faith. Interfering with these feelings in another person’s life is judging that person.

Is this Jesus point in this passage?

While Jesus did warn about not judging others earlier (Luke 6:37), he does not use this word here. Instead, Jesus says that leaders should first take care of you own problems, then care for others.

St Paul makes a similar point in Galatians, 

Brethren, if a man is overtaken in any trespass, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Look to yourself, lest you too be tempted. Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ. (Galatians 6:1–2)

Keeping in mind the five previous chapters of Luke’s Gospel and the notion of discipleship, we can outline a five step process in Jesus’ teachings

1. Jesus calls us to be his disciple, and to imitate his life and teachings. Jesus ministry centers on modelling mercy and love to others.
2. We must begin in humility with an openness to the words and life of Jesus,
3. We must first examine our own hearts: We must pray to have an awareness of our own serious mistakes (“the beam in my eye” not “splinters”);
4. We must surrender to Jesus and be converted with the readiness to follow him, and thus to become a different person (removal of the “log”);
5. Only then, can we be a renewed disciple fully modelling Jesus mercy and love.

Only after initial conversion and the full apprenticeship of discipleship can I become like Jesus (v. 40b) and become a master or leader for others and help correct their little faults. (“splinter,” v. 42b)

How do we know this process has occurred?

In the next metaphor, Jesus talks about trees and fruit. He notes, “Every tree is known by its own fruit.” We cannot merely depend on our education, or the fact that we have riding along on the Catholic bus through the various sacraments. The final steps in the journey must involve a profound cooperation on our part. Like the earliest disciples, we must drop our nets and follow Jesus as his disciples. When we do this, our life will change and bear fruit. If we do not see fruit, there is a problem.

By literally walking with Jesus and experiencing his life and teachings, we awaken our conscience with the help of the Holy Spirit. Our heart needs to be fully awake in him.

This is a fundamental choice on our part. We need to say “yes” to Jesus. This is an act of our will. We need to surrender our life to him, and make him the center of our life. We may need to repeat this act many times in order to be continuously converted to his will.

Jesus final metaphor is a kind of litmus test, or scorecard. Are we really a fully initiated disciple of Jesus? Jesus observes that, “from the fullness of the heart the mouth speaks.” The most profound demonstration of our holiness, and our conformity to the discipleship of Jesus, is how we control our tongue. We might be attempted to jump ahead and focus here, but unless we have taken the previous steps, we will likely fail.

Our journey begins not by following the rules, but by literally following the person of Jesus!
We must be changed by him from the inside out!



EIGHTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME, YEAR C

Sirach 27:4–7; Psalm 92:2–3, 13–16; 1 Corinthians 15:54–58; Luke 6:39–45

Mercy Triumphs Over Judgment

As we read the words of this Sunday’s Gospel, many of us will experience sense of puzzlement, or even a sense that what Jesus is asking of us asked is fundamentally not fair. If we keep strict justice in mind, when hearing Jesus say, “But to you who hear I say, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. … we say, “Wait a minute. Really?” Where is the justice in these statements?

One of the divine attributes of God is certainly justice, but justice is not God’s central attribute. Years ago, St. John Paul II wrote and encyclical on the topic of Mercy (Dives et Misericordia, 1980). 

Without taking away from the importance of justice, St. John Paul II points out that Jesus unique mission on earth was to make the Father present as love and mercy (DM 3). Jesus centered his ministry on being a model of merciful love for others. We see this modeled in Jesus words, but even more in his actions. The call to mercy is in fact one of the essential elements of the Gospel message and the essential way of life for his disciples (DM 3).

Even in the Old Testament, where we often see God’s justice contrasted with his mercy, the perfection of God’s love is always greater than justice. St. John Paul II points out love is primary and fundamental and it conditions justice. Justice serves love.

This highlights the primacy and superiority of love over justice. In fact, the superiority of love is hallmark of the whole of revelation. The way in which we actually experience God’s love, however, is through mercy. (DM 4). The concrete expression of love in our lives is mercy.

St. John Paul II observes that the very idea of this mercy often creates certain prejudices in our hearts. This is because Jesus calls us to go beyond the precise norms of justice and our heart immediately tells us that this is not fair.

In our Gospel, Jesus calls us to a higher standard than mere justice,

Bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. To the person who strikes you on one cheek, offer the other one as well, and from the person who takes your cloak, do not withhold even your tunic. Give to everyone who asks of you, and from the one who takes what is yours do not demand it back

Our heart stumbles over Jesus’ call, because in focuses on the externals and on the apparent inequality of justice between the one offering it and the one receiving it. Our heart intuitively tells us that mercy does seem fair (DM 5).

Yet, Jesus calls us in this Gospel to transform our love into mercy. Without this mercy, we miss the essential element of relationship. When we fail to show mercy, we often fail to recognize the hand of God moving in hearts of others. We find our highest calling not in the things of this life, but in eternity with God. In the light of eternity, how important is a tunic? If we choose not to retaliate, and this leads to a new relationship with our enemy, we may become a model of merciful love that reveals the heart of the Father to our brother.

A profound example of this mercy is the parable of the prodigal son. The father in this parable sees the good achieved in the heart of the prodigal son. This allows the father to look beyond mere justice, and to forget the evil, which the son has committed against him (DM 6). The father recognizes the reality of conversion in the prodigal’s heart. St. John Paul II notes, “Conversion is the most concrete expression of the working of love and of the presence of mercy in the human world” (DM 13). With eternity in mind, our goal should always be conversion.

Like the older brother in this parable, our heart may still say this is not fair! Clearly, our faith does not demand that we never pursue justice. We acknowledge such goods as the rule of just laws and legitimate self-defense. Our faith calls us to advocate for those who are poor and defenseless. We have not abandoned justice.

Yet at other times, Jesus calls us to show mercy. More than this, the presence of God in our life should lead us to become models of mercy and to make mercy the central focus of our life in Christ.

We can ask ourselves; in the light of eternity, what does Jesus ask me to do in this concrete situation? What action will most likely lead to this person’s eventual conversion? We can also think about the mercy and love we have received from God through the loving sacrifice that Jesus has made on our behalf. Do we really understand the depth and breadth of the love and mercy that we personally have received from God? In a certain sense, we are all prodigals.

As St. Paul reminds us, “All have sinned and are deprived of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). Yet even so, this will not stop the mercy of God towards us. St. Paul continues, “But God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). St. John reminds us God’s mercy flows from his love, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life” (John 3:16).

At the same time Jesus’ message of love and mercy also contains a solemn warning for those who harden their hearts against mercy. In the Our Father prayer we say, “Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.” (Matthew 6:12). Just in case we miss the implications of the word “as” in this verse Jesus immediately reminds us, “But if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your transgressions” (Matthew 6:15). St. James warns us: “For judgment will be without mercy to anyone who has shown no mercy; mercy triumphs over judgment” (James 2:13).

Yet as the psalmist reminded us, “The LORD is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in mercy” (Psalm 103:8). Let us each open our hearts to his love and may his mercy flow through our lives to the world.

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SEVENTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME--YEAR C: 1 Samuel 26:2, 7–9, 12–13, 22–23; Psalm 103:1–4, 8, 10, 12–1, 1 Corinthians 15:45–49, Gospel: Luke 6:27–38

Joined to Christ in Suffering

Perhaps some of you have at some point have worked out in a gym, or been to physio and have heard the common training advice, “No pain, no gain.” This expression highlights the truth that in order to build muscle mass, and improve cardio endurance we need to exercise our muscles until they feel the fatigue and pain of this effort. If you have experienced physiotherapy you know therapists are not afraid to make you hurt sometimes, for your own good.

On the other hand, we also notice the opposite trend in our culture. We have become more and more focused on comfort and avoiding all suffering.

We want to buy our salads and carrots ready to eat from the fridge. Many of us have a coffee machine that dispenses a single cup of coffee on demand. The TV dinner of my era has turned into an entire aisle of instant meals at the supermarket.

Recently a marriage and family therapist and author has suggest that this has idea of comfort seeking has filtered over into the modern notion of marriage. We want our partner to be everything for us. We want them to meet all our needs for comfort, friendship and pleasure. They are our soulmate, the one who will meet all our needs. This is of course highly unrealistic, and can lead to serious problems in our relationship. We are in sense seeking heaven on earth and operating out of a profound sense of entitlement.

I am not suggesting that all of this focus on convenience and comfort is necessarily sinful. Clearly, no one would say, “Bless me Father I have sinned, I bought ready to eat carrots!” I also enjoy these modern conveniences. Yet this trend towards maximizing comfort and avoiding suffering can create confusion about our faith.

Suffering is an unavoidable part of life, but we might want to distinguish between two kinds of suffering. We can enduring voluntary suffering such as penance, fasting and mortification. In a sense, all spiritual disciplines are a form of voluntary suffering. We also endure voluntary suffering when we engaging in sports training, or dieting, or when we discipline ourselves to work hard at various other endeavors.

Another type of suffering is involuntary. Often the cause of this type of suffering is evil in our world. We can endure physical evils such as disease and eventually the inevitable death we will all face. We can also suffer from moral evils when people do unjust and evil things to us and cause us to suffer. On a natural level, there is nothing good about suffering. God did not create evil, it is a result of sin and our collective misuse of God’s gifts. Our misguided use of freedom is the cause of evil in this world. Creation itself is afflicted with this evil because of the Fall.

Our first response to this evil should be to cry out God for deliverance and healing. Even Christ in his agony, first prayed for deliverance. As our Lord prayed in the garden, "Father, if you are willing, take this cup away from me; still, not my will but yours be done" (Luke 22:42). 

Understandably, God does not ask us to resign ourselves passively to suffering. Yet, what if God does not answer our prayers and allows us to continue to suffer?

For many people suffering from an evil cause, creates difficult questions in their hearts. If God really loves me, then how could he allow me to suffer this way?

In our Gospel today, Jesus says some puzzling things that on the surface do not seem to make sense.

Lifting his eyes to his disciples, Jesus says blessed are the poor, and the hungry, and those who are now weeping, and those being persecuted. The word Jesus uses for ‘blessed” is makarios and it means fortunate, happy, privileged but also one who enjoys divine favor or being blessed. On a natural level, it is hard for me to understand how being poor, hungry, grieving and persecuted will make you blessed and happy.

Perhaps is it a kind of spiritual “No pain, no gain” principle. This is not the Gospel according to Planet Fitness. We can actually find this same advice in the Bible. We read in Hebrews, “At the time, all discipline seems a cause not for joy but for pain, yet later it brings the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who are trained by it” (Hebrew 12:11).

This advice should be no surprise, as many saints have told us that growth in the spiritual life requires discipline and effort on our part. This type of suffering is likely the voluntary kind of discipline that our spiritual life demands of all of us.

To understand the full breadth of suffering we need to think more deeply about the nature of suffering itself. Does suffering itself have any meaning?

Our faith teaches us that it is only in the mystery of the cross that suffering takes on meaning. The ultimate goal of Jesus life and his ministry on earth was to suffer. A number of years ago, St. John Paul II wrote a beautiful apostolic letter on suffering that is still worth reading. He notes that , “Love is … the richest source of the meaning of suffering” (SD 13).

The truth is that anyone who really wanted to get rid of suffering would also have to get rid of love, because love always demands an element of self-sacrifice. Essentially, there can be no love without suffering. For more on this theme, see the following article by Dr. Matthew Ramage, in Religions 2021.

If involuntary sufferings are evil, then can this suffering be used for good?

In a highly unusual verse, St. Paul notes,

“Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, which is the church” (Colossians 1:24).

The idea of making up or filling up what is lacking in Christ’s suffering is puzzling. We believe as a matter of faith that Jesus died once for all to save us. This sacrifice is complete, and unrepeatable. What does St. Paul mean? How can we , "filling up what is lacking" in Christ's afflictions?

The answer to this question has to do with the notion of communion. Through Baptism and the Eucharist we are joined to Christ.

St. Paul notes, “For all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ” (Galatians 3:27). The imagery of being “clothed” has to do with joining ourselves to Christ. Similarly, he notes, “For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body, …” (1 Corinthians 12:13). We are literally part of Christ’s Body. We are joined to Christ like the parts of the body are joined together. He is part of us, and we are part of him, in communion.

Regarding the Eucharist St. Paul notes, “The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? Because the loaf of bread is one, we, though many, are one body, for we all partake of the one loaf” (1 Corinthians 10:16-17). The word translated “participation” can mean "fellowship" or even "communion." We are joined to Christ when we receive his Body and Blood in Holy Communion.

In relation to our suffering then, this communion with Christ moves in two directions. We are joined to the cross and to Christ’s redemptive sufferings, but he is at the same time joined to us in our sufferings.

St. John Paul II notes that while the sufferings of Christ are inexhaustible and infinite and cannot be added to, at the same time by being in communion with his Body, “Christ has in a sense opened his own redemptive suffering to all human suffering. . . . (SD 19).

This means that our suffering does have meaning. Our sufferings can be a share in the redemptive work of Christ on the Cross. In communion with Christ, we share in his redemptive suffering which pays the penalty for our sins. At the same time, our human sufferings are also shared or joined with Christ, and become a share in the redemptive work of Christ as part of his Body (SD 19).

No one would say this is an easy road to walk. Perhaps in the midst of profound pain and human suffering this might sound trite. Yet, we do believe we can sanctify others through our suffering and we can be sanctified ourselves by the presence of Christ in our sufferings. We accomplish this by being drawn ever closer to his love.

St. John Paul II notes that although Christ died once for all to save us (1 Peter 3:18, Hebrews 9:28) yet at the same time Christ sufferings are unceasingly completed because of our intimate communion with him (SD 24). It is perhaps difficult to understand this notion of being unceasingly completed, but this notion make the most sense of St. Paul’s words, “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, which is the church” (Colossians 1:24).

Again, this is an intimate communion with his love. This means our sufferings can be ‘offered up’ as a sacrifice for others. We do this by adding our suffering to our prayer intentions for others. We can sanctify others through our suffering and we be sanctified by the presence of Christ in our sufferings. “Christ through his own salvific suffering is very much present in every human suffering” (SD 26).

If we understand this then our own suffering can be time special of grace that will transform our souls. St. John Paul II notes in suffering there is concealed a particular power that draws a person interiorly close to Christ, a special grace and time of conversion (SD 26).

As we think about this theme of suffering perhaps there are two things we can take away for this. In relation to involuntary sufferings, we need to understand that Christ is very close to us in our sufferings. We are part of his body and joined to him. He suffers with us and offers us his love. We can use this experience to offer up our suffering for others and to deepen our own conversion.

Having said this, this path can be very difficult! I am not a stranger to suffering in my own life, and this path can be very hard.

Regarding voluntary sufferings, we might want to recall that in the old calendar of the church this past Sunday was Septuagesima Sunday. The name comes from the Latin word for "seventieth" or seventy days before Easter. It was a kind of Pre-Lent or extended time of preparation for Lent. Perhaps then we can use this as a reminder in order to take advantage of the season of Lent. To live the season of Lent well, we need to do some planning.

What can we do to gain the most benefit from the season of Lent and allow this discipline to draw us closer to our Lord?

 

What can we do to prepare ourselves for Lent?

One suggestion might be to use an Examination of Conscience to carefully prepare for Confession and then use this experience and our deeper interior reflections and to choose Lenten penances that will help us to grow in our faith. The church also recommends frequent Confession.

I offer the following reflections for this process based on the three traditional practices of lent: prayer, fasting, and alms giving. These practices are not a check list of equal activities for our soul, however, we should focus on those things that change our heart and draw us closer to our Lord.

Prayer and the Interior Life

Ask the Holy Spirit to show you, your personal weaknesses. Be genuinely vulnerable with God. Begin with a prayer to the Holy Spirit.

Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in them the fire of your love. Send forth your Spirit and they shall be created. And You shall renew the face of the earth.

O, God, who by the light of the Holy Spirit, did instruct the hearts of the faithful, grant that by the same Holy Spirit we may be truly wise and ever enjoy His consolations, Through Christ Our Lord, Amen.

What patterns have you observe in your Confessions?

Is there a sin or weakness that your often struggle with?

What could you struggle against that would help your to grow?

Could you try to build a virtue that opposes this sin?

How could you get closer to God in your relationship with him?

Could you spend more time in prayer and in the personal reading of Scripture?

Do you own a Bible that you regularly read? How much time do you spend prayerfully reading the Bible?

Are their distractions in your life that typically take up your time, and keep you from spending time with God? Facebook? Screen time, TV viewing?

Does your screen time sometimes lead to engage in sinful behavior?

Have you received any spiritual advice in the Confessional that you have not yet put into practice?

Is there a person in your life that you should be spending more time with?

Is there someone in your life who often leads you to do things you later regret?

Fasting

It is fine to pick some things that you will abstain from during Lent. It is important to remember that these are voluntary penances, and if we fail (all things equal) we have not committed a sin. It does not have to be something specific, but if there is something in your life that you think might be controlling you or that your use of is disordered, then it would be good to focus on this item specifically. For example, some people give up alcohol, or deserts, etc.

We might want to be careful that what we propose is doable and not too hard for us. In addition, we should not mortify others with our penance. This is our penance and not theirs. There are times when love is more important than our voluntary penance. We do not sin by temporarily stopping our penance out of love.

We can gain benefit from even little acts of detachment. Someone might give up eating ketchup or other condiment on their food or plan to eat more food that they do not like, but they know is good for them. The simple act of discipline in these areas can later strengthen our will against other temptations.

In the tradition of the Church, Sundays are never a day of fasting. See the following reflection: Are Sundays a part of Lent?

Alms

Here we focus on detachment. We can fast from spending money on luxury items, or from certain recreational activities that waste our time and save the money that this cost normally us.

We could also donate the money we save through our fasting to the poor, or simply donate to the food bank or volunteer our time, etc.




SIXTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME --YEAR C