JMJ. There is a popular notion that a bright, shiny penny lying on the ground is a little message from someone whom we have lost. One is supposed to pick it up because to ignore it is to ignore a small sign from the beyond. How true that is I couldn't say but I've always picked up pennies, regardless of how shiny or banged-up they be. My rationale is that 100 of them make a dollar.
Most people ignore them, though, and it just hit me recently how much they resemble the small blessings God sends us each day. Most of us ignore most of them exactly the same way. Like the time St. Anthony helped us find our car keys. Or seeing the sun peek through the clouds on a cold, dreary winter day. Oh, and then there was the time we held the door for someone in a store for about the umpteenth time and for once he or she said, "Thank you."
None of these were earth-shattering, none of them changed the course of history. But upon reflection, (if only we remember to do so,) we realise that they were our Lord's way of saying, "Just wanted to let you know I love you." And, like a bunch of pennies, they all add up to something big when the Creator says, "I love you." Now THAT'S a blessing!
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
The Carrying of the Cross, Revisited
JMJ. Something came to me the other day. I was out walking the dog and saying a mental Rosary at the same time. (And my wife says I need to learn to multi-task!) I won't say that it was an epiphany. But I had been thinking about our Lord's mortality and how He was so overcome with fear in the garden of Gethsemane that it was necessary for angels to minister to Him. How amazing, I wondered, to be allowed to bear up the Creator in His distress.
And it was only a few hours later that His steps faltered again and His strength came well-nigh to failing Him as His broken body was called upon to carry His own cross to Golgotha. But it was not an angel this time who came to His aid but a mere man, St. Simon of Cyrene, who was called upon to offer Him aid. Not His divine Self which supplied His own strength, not heavenly angels this time, but a man--a poor sinner just as I am who was allowed to accompany Him to the place of His execution.
His Holy Mother could only pray for Him and weep for Him, St. Veronica wiped the blood and spittle and sweat from His face, and all of His disciples fled Him in fear of the Romans and the Jews. Only one man helped Him bear the weight of that fearsome tree and he was forced to do so. But what a vocation!
And it was only a few hours later that His steps faltered again and His strength came well-nigh to failing Him as His broken body was called upon to carry His own cross to Golgotha. But it was not an angel this time who came to His aid but a mere man, St. Simon of Cyrene, who was called upon to offer Him aid. Not His divine Self which supplied His own strength, not heavenly angels this time, but a man--a poor sinner just as I am who was allowed to accompany Him to the place of His execution.
His Holy Mother could only pray for Him and weep for Him, St. Veronica wiped the blood and spittle and sweat from His face, and all of His disciples fled Him in fear of the Romans and the Jews. Only one man helped Him bear the weight of that fearsome tree and he was forced to do so. But what a vocation!
Friday, March 12, 2010
The Barren Fig Tree
JMJ. I know a lot of people who have left the Church 'cause they felt they "weren't being fed." Now, I will be the first to agree that there are good homilists and there are less than sterling ones. (And even the best have off-days.) The Sunday gospel readings recently jerked me up-right as if I'd been pole-axed. Time and again I've read the passage in Luke, chapter 13, verses 6-9. And it always went right over my head. I guess it's true that when we're meant to hear something, the Lord will open our ears.
I'm not going to quote the entire passage here since you, imaginary reader, are as capable of reading it as I am of writing it. The idea is that a fig tree has not produced fruit for some time and the owner wants to save soil and room and cut it down. The gardener prevails on the owner to give it another chance, promising to give it special care. (It can always be dealt with later if it still is unproductive.)
Father said, "Now the Owner is God and the Gardener is Jesus." And I thought, "Holy cow, and I'm the fig tree!" I don't think I heard much of anything 'til the Consecration. I was too boggled by the knowledge that at any time my "Owner of the Vineyard" could have yanked me out by my roots. And I'd have had no one to blame but myself! I breathed a figurative sigh of relief that there is a merciful Gardener Who was willing to speak up for me, beg for mercy, and to tend me that I might one day blossom and merit the heavenly Garden. Amen!
I'm not going to quote the entire passage here since you, imaginary reader, are as capable of reading it as I am of writing it. The idea is that a fig tree has not produced fruit for some time and the owner wants to save soil and room and cut it down. The gardener prevails on the owner to give it another chance, promising to give it special care. (It can always be dealt with later if it still is unproductive.)
Father said, "Now the Owner is God and the Gardener is Jesus." And I thought, "Holy cow, and I'm the fig tree!" I don't think I heard much of anything 'til the Consecration. I was too boggled by the knowledge that at any time my "Owner of the Vineyard" could have yanked me out by my roots. And I'd have had no one to blame but myself! I breathed a figurative sigh of relief that there is a merciful Gardener Who was willing to speak up for me, beg for mercy, and to tend me that I might one day blossom and merit the heavenly Garden. Amen!
Unchanging/Unchangeable
JMJ. When I was a kid, we all played a game we called "telephone." I'm sure there are other names but most of us have played it at one time or another. It's a great object lesson in how things can go awry if you place humans in the equation. Basically it involves a bunch of people (the more the merrier) sitting in a circle. The first person tells a simple tale to the person next to him, he to the next, and so on around the circle. The lesson comes when one compares the last tale to the first.
Now I don't have much of a problem with how things get garbled accidentally. After all, that's part of being human. What annoys the daylights out of me is that folks change things around on purpose, usually to suit their own agendas. Especially in matters religious. Now, Jesus, being God, was not stupid. He knew what it meant to be fully human. That was why He had to leave us with an infallible arbitrator/teacher to rule in cases of misunderstandings, intentional or otherwise. He left us the Catholic Church.
The Orthodox churches were the first to turn away from the safety of the Church's infallibility by denying the primacy of the heirs of St. Peter for their own nationalistic reasons. Then came the Protestant churches five hundred years ago, all making up doctrines to suit their own interpretations of God's holy Word. Things have devolved so badly that each "Christian" now makes things up as he or she goes along.
This is evidenced most starkly in the words of the red and black banner that hangs from most UCC churches and says "God is Still Speaking." Yes, I agree that He speaks to us each and every day. The idea implicit in their thought, though, is that He's saying different things than He did originally. Just like humans, they say, God is evolving. Society has changed so artificial birth control must now be allowed. Society is more complex than it was so it's ok to have sex outside of marriage or with someone not one's own marriage partner. "I'm gay and I'm entitled to love, too." Or even (God help us) "This baby I'm pregnant with is hampering my life-style so it's ok to abort it!"
Of course there's a fly in the ointment of these cafeteria Christians (and even cafeteria Catholics.) That fly is Holy Scripture--the one source that all Protestants point to as their sole authority. Take a look at Hebrews 13:8,9. I'll even quote it. "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and for ever. Do not be led away by diverse and strange teachings." And when you stop to think about it (which the nay-sayers never do), it could be no other way. God is perfect; how can He need to evolve? If you put your hand into a fire and burns yourself, how can it be otherwise if repeated? The fire (especially the eternal fire) never loses its heat. Do not be deceived, do not leave the sureness which Christ left you.
Now I don't have much of a problem with how things get garbled accidentally. After all, that's part of being human. What annoys the daylights out of me is that folks change things around on purpose, usually to suit their own agendas. Especially in matters religious. Now, Jesus, being God, was not stupid. He knew what it meant to be fully human. That was why He had to leave us with an infallible arbitrator/teacher to rule in cases of misunderstandings, intentional or otherwise. He left us the Catholic Church.
The Orthodox churches were the first to turn away from the safety of the Church's infallibility by denying the primacy of the heirs of St. Peter for their own nationalistic reasons. Then came the Protestant churches five hundred years ago, all making up doctrines to suit their own interpretations of God's holy Word. Things have devolved so badly that each "Christian" now makes things up as he or she goes along.
This is evidenced most starkly in the words of the red and black banner that hangs from most UCC churches and says "God is Still Speaking." Yes, I agree that He speaks to us each and every day. The idea implicit in their thought, though, is that He's saying different things than He did originally. Just like humans, they say, God is evolving. Society has changed so artificial birth control must now be allowed. Society is more complex than it was so it's ok to have sex outside of marriage or with someone not one's own marriage partner. "I'm gay and I'm entitled to love, too." Or even (God help us) "This baby I'm pregnant with is hampering my life-style so it's ok to abort it!"
Of course there's a fly in the ointment of these cafeteria Christians (and even cafeteria Catholics.) That fly is Holy Scripture--the one source that all Protestants point to as their sole authority. Take a look at Hebrews 13:8,9. I'll even quote it. "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and for ever. Do not be led away by diverse and strange teachings." And when you stop to think about it (which the nay-sayers never do), it could be no other way. God is perfect; how can He need to evolve? If you put your hand into a fire and burns yourself, how can it be otherwise if repeated? The fire (especially the eternal fire) never loses its heat. Do not be deceived, do not leave the sureness which Christ left you.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
God Illuminates My Path Once Again
JMJ. That most blessed time of the year has returned and another Lenten period is upon us. I continue to marvel at God's love for me and for His tremendous forebearance.
I have wondered for some time at the actions of the Apostles at the Last Supper. Jesus spoke in Matthew 26:21, saying, "Truly I say to you, one of you will betray me."
If ever there were more overt guilty consciences I don't know when that might have been. Each of them in turn said, "Is it I, Lord?" Now, I don't know about you, but I would think that I would know if I had betrayed our Lord to the authorities. But in reflecting further I came to realise that the betrayal went far beyond the mere political.
Maybe the Apostles weren't so far off after all. Jesus answered them saying that the traitor was the one who dipped his hand into the same bowl as did our Lord. Didn't they all do that? Don't all of us? Jesus, our Lord, provided a bowl of food for their Passover celebration. And they all partook of that food (if not necessarily from the same dish.)
God, the Most Blessed Trinity, has provided a trove of graces from which we all dip our hands. And through our sins we betray Him Who gave Himself for our redemption. As I have written elsewhere, we all spat in His face, we all scourged Him, we all pounded the nails into His poor beaten body. So, too, have we all betrayed Him through our commissions and omissions.
Peter once asked Him how many times we must forgive and Jesus told Peter, seventy times seven. Though many forgivenesses, it is finite. God's forgiveness is infinite. Judas squandered that forgiveness and despaired. Had he returned the evil silver and begged for His Lord's mercy he would have received it. That is our blessing. We betrayers can learn from that tragic mistake, can repent our sinful betrayals, throw the silver back into Satan's face, and with Divine Forgiveness can once again dip our hands into the bowl Christ has provided for us.
May God bless your Lent and make it fruitful unto you, dear reader.
I have wondered for some time at the actions of the Apostles at the Last Supper. Jesus spoke in Matthew 26:21, saying, "Truly I say to you, one of you will betray me."
If ever there were more overt guilty consciences I don't know when that might have been. Each of them in turn said, "Is it I, Lord?" Now, I don't know about you, but I would think that I would know if I had betrayed our Lord to the authorities. But in reflecting further I came to realise that the betrayal went far beyond the mere political.
Maybe the Apostles weren't so far off after all. Jesus answered them saying that the traitor was the one who dipped his hand into the same bowl as did our Lord. Didn't they all do that? Don't all of us? Jesus, our Lord, provided a bowl of food for their Passover celebration. And they all partook of that food (if not necessarily from the same dish.)
God, the Most Blessed Trinity, has provided a trove of graces from which we all dip our hands. And through our sins we betray Him Who gave Himself for our redemption. As I have written elsewhere, we all spat in His face, we all scourged Him, we all pounded the nails into His poor beaten body. So, too, have we all betrayed Him through our commissions and omissions.
Peter once asked Him how many times we must forgive and Jesus told Peter, seventy times seven. Though many forgivenesses, it is finite. God's forgiveness is infinite. Judas squandered that forgiveness and despaired. Had he returned the evil silver and begged for His Lord's mercy he would have received it. That is our blessing. We betrayers can learn from that tragic mistake, can repent our sinful betrayals, throw the silver back into Satan's face, and with Divine Forgiveness can once again dip our hands into the bowl Christ has provided for us.
May God bless your Lent and make it fruitful unto you, dear reader.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Majesty
JMJ. I was taking a shower the other day. (I try to do this once a week or so whether I need one or not.) In the course of my ablutions I was struck by the over-powering majesty of the Catholic Church. It was one of those little pecks on the cheek I've talked about before and is God's way of saying, "I know it's January and dismal as all get-out outside, but I thought I'd bring a little ray of sunshine into your heart."
I need them from time to time and I'm sure that you do, too, imaginary reader. There is something immensely awesome when one considers that a unique movement was set in motion over 2,000 years ago, founded on a bunch of rural yokels of no great intellectual accomplishments, whose one saving grace was their belief in the deity of this strange Man from Galilee.
It's de rigeur nowadays to disparage the Catholic Church, to question her teachings, to deplore the abuses which have come to light in the last decade but which just seems to keep plugging along in spite of it all. If there is not something majestic in this and not just a little miraculous, I don't know what it would be. In the face of death, persecution, and suffering the Church grew by leaps and bounds with only the Divine Promise of an eternity of joy if we would but repent and believe.
Upon contemplation of that sweeping vista I was struck by the tragedy that so many turn their backs on His offer. Go figure.
I need them from time to time and I'm sure that you do, too, imaginary reader. There is something immensely awesome when one considers that a unique movement was set in motion over 2,000 years ago, founded on a bunch of rural yokels of no great intellectual accomplishments, whose one saving grace was their belief in the deity of this strange Man from Galilee.
It's de rigeur nowadays to disparage the Catholic Church, to question her teachings, to deplore the abuses which have come to light in the last decade but which just seems to keep plugging along in spite of it all. If there is not something majestic in this and not just a little miraculous, I don't know what it would be. In the face of death, persecution, and suffering the Church grew by leaps and bounds with only the Divine Promise of an eternity of joy if we would but repent and believe.
Upon contemplation of that sweeping vista I was struck by the tragedy that so many turn their backs on His offer. Go figure.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
God Is So Good To Us
JMJ. At first I thought that 2010 was off to a rotten start. One of our adopted ferrets, Chloe, had to be put to sleep yesterday. Here I am, almost 62 years old, and I still feel more comfortable saying, "put to sleep" instead of "put down" or euthanised. She had been living with cancer in her abdomen for over six months but it was only the last month or so that saw a sharp decline in her spirits. She just wasn't as involved in playing with her buddy, Casper, as she once was. I'm sure I'm just anthropomorphising but it seems that there is more courage in their little bodies than in some adult humans of my acquaintance.
Only a week ago my AFS sister (from Japan) who lived with us over 30 years ago wrote to say that her father had died of cancer and complications of pneumonia. She grieved with us when my mom died and we grieve with her at the loss of her father. Only a few months ago my Linda's mom died, too. All of these were expected but all of them were so difficult. All of these losses, I had thought, would leave a vast hole in our hearts.
But on mature reflection (I've been known to do that once or twice) I realised how great and merciful our God is. He taketh away with one hand while giving us the strength to bear with our losses, and gives us kisses on our cheeks to show us His love.How? Ok, I'm glad you asked so I'll tell you.
Some time ago I felt that I was being called on to leave my present job and take one with the local Catholic Charity hospice, Holy Family Home. Several times now I've volunteered my time on days off and have found it to be one of the most loving and wonderful things a nurse could do. I am in awe at the impact that one person can in the life and death of another.
A lady from the Cleveland ferret rescue service is bringing us a young furball tomorrow to see how she and Casper get along. He needs someone young to help him learn to play again. His humans love him but no one knows how to play like another ferret.
I went to the web-site of the Manhattan Declaration just a little while ago. The signings had seemed to be slowing down over the last few weeks. The number was up to 310,000 or so but kind of creeping along whereas before it was bounding. Much to my surprise the total is up over
Only a week ago my AFS sister (from Japan) who lived with us over 30 years ago wrote to say that her father had died of cancer and complications of pneumonia. She grieved with us when my mom died and we grieve with her at the loss of her father. Only a few months ago my Linda's mom died, too. All of these were expected but all of them were so difficult. All of these losses, I had thought, would leave a vast hole in our hearts.
But on mature reflection (I've been known to do that once or twice) I realised how great and merciful our God is. He taketh away with one hand while giving us the strength to bear with our losses, and gives us kisses on our cheeks to show us His love.How? Ok, I'm glad you asked so I'll tell you.
Some time ago I felt that I was being called on to leave my present job and take one with the local Catholic Charity hospice, Holy Family Home. Several times now I've volunteered my time on days off and have found it to be one of the most loving and wonderful things a nurse could do. I am in awe at the impact that one person can in the life and death of another.
A lady from the Cleveland ferret rescue service is bringing us a young furball tomorrow to see how she and Casper get along. He needs someone young to help him learn to play again. His humans love him but no one knows how to play like another ferret.
I went to the web-site of the Manhattan Declaration just a little while ago. The signings had seemed to be slowing down over the last few weeks. The number was up to 310,000 or so but kind of creeping along whereas before it was bounding. Much to my surprise the total is up over
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