Messengers and the Message

My postings may become a little sparse in the next few weeks. Not that I'm a heavy, daily poster anyway. Next week is retreat week, a week I am looking forward to because of the silence. In the meantime, I am caught up in the work of preparing for ordination in May. Practicing rites and the Mass seem to be taking up a lot of my free time. It's also the busy season at the diocesan catechesis office where I work. Then there are the projects at home that...well, it's a little crazy right now.

1 Kings today is the story of the Lord's cure of Namman through the prophet Elisha. As happens a lot, I tend to continue to read past the verses used in the lectionary today.

What struck me is Elisha's denial of a gift for the work he did, simply because he said it was not him who cured Namman, but the Lord. Interesting. In our human weakness, we tend to make a hero of the messenger and not the One who sent the message. Inevitably, this leads to disappointment, because the messenger is flawed just as we are. The biggest struggle we have as either the messenger or the listener to the messenger is to remember it is the work of the Lord through us, and not the individual action of any one of us. Something we all need to recall from time to time.

The Annuciation

“The Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us.”
In this year of 2011, the actions this day commemorates still shape our lives. The message to Mary and Mary’s “yes” even today give light and spark to our everyday existence. Because of the great compassion of God to humble himself in order to save us and because of the willingness of his human partner to choose to work with him, we live in hope. No matter how messy our lives can become, they have meaning, our existence has purpose, we are able to believe, to hope and to truly love because of the actions this day commemorates. What we commemorate today is the life that surges through us now because of the God who made us, the God who loves us and the “yes” of a woman filled with his love.

The Private Room

The easy way to go with today's Gospel is the Pharisee who prays in public. Each of us can think of the Pharisee examples in our own lives. From Popes to the guy next door, we can rattle off the examples and before you know it, we're in judgment land. Once I got through that this morning...and I go there like a moth to flame...once I got quiet, once I began to listen to the words, then I began to hear.

That is the moment we enter the private room.

The private room is our heart. We go there and leave the Pharisee-type distractions behind and meet the God who loves us. And as lovers do, we lay out what we have before us. The private room is not a prayer-space in your house, nor is it some approved method. I can teach you about lectio divina in ten minutes and it can take you a lifetime to travel through it. No, the private room is about the quiet meeting between you and God. It is there where the lovers, the groom and bride, meet and share, scream and cry, laugh and love. (Old deejay that I am, I think of the old Lovin' Spoonful song "Darlin' Be Home Soon," a song about a lover waiting for the return of his beloved "...for the great relief of having you to talk to."

We can enter the private room in the confessional. We can enter it in our car, or in line at the bank, or the quiet of our living room. We can enter the private room at Mass. In fact, the liturgically well done Mass is designed to draw us into the private room, to arrange the meeting of lovers when we are in communion with Christ.

We can also go to the private room with a meditative, quiet Our Father. It is amazing, all these prayers we rattle off...like the pagans blabbering words...are really tools to lead us to the private room. Meditation is the training ground of contemplation.

My wife was once asked what we would be doing if we had never met each other. She said that she would have been a medical missonary and I would have been a monk.

Maybe she was right.

The Truth Shall Set You Free

The one aspect of Lent that always amazes me is that it takes us to places we had no idea we would be travelling to when we made our Lenten plans. Perhaps this is where the prayer, the fasting and the alms giving leads us: to a new door opening, to another mystery to be faced, to a deeper place that may appear to be frightening at first but completely peaceful upon entering into it.

That's how it has been playing for me this Lent. Entering into a mystery that is frightening yet peaceful. Entering fully into the mystery of death.

Last night, I watched the "60 Minutes" feature on Abp. Timothy Dolan. (You can check it out thanks to Rocco here.) What struck me was his visit to the crypt at St. Patrick's with Morley Safer, where he pointed out where he will be entombed. He passes that place daily. Safer asked if he found that unnerving. No, instead Abp. Dolan said, with a laugh, that he found it liberating.

Liberating. That's what I am finding about this coming to grips with death is liberation and peacefulness. It is that way only because of the work of the Savior,
Jesus Christ. If you enter into this mystery we are soon to celebrate, if you continue to enter into the very freeing act of our loving God, the more free you become. This is a journey that I can only describe as freeing because I continue to give up this world as an end-all,be-all for the promise and hope of the Resurrection.
As a result I am feeling a certain freedom. This must be the freedom of being in order somewhat with God.

I began this Lent asking for healing. It is now showing up in ways least expected!

Sign of Jonah

The Sign of Jonah. Hard sacrifices called for. I know what they are, the question is can I put on the sackcloth like the people of Nineveh? This is not giving up cake and ice cream or any of that symbolic stuff. These are real sacrifices. Acting on them will cause some moments of pain. There must be Eucharist, Reconciliation and prayer, there must be emptying so that grace can fill the hole created by the sacrifice or else the sacrifice is just fooling around. You can't pull a tooth and leave the socket empty. It did not take long this morning after reading this passage to know that this is serious stuff.

Getting Down to Business

Ash Wednesday is now complete. Now, we get down to business. We begin in earnest the work of Lent. The readings today tell us to "choose life," (Deuternonomy) and Christ telling us to "take up your cross and follow me."

That's the Lenten game plan. Choose life, follow me. It is in this frame that we make our choices each day, Lent and otherwise. Because Jesus says we need to take up our cross in order to do this, we know this will not always be easy. But it can be freeing.

In this past year, I have learned a lot about obedience. Obedience is a word that comes from the Latin meaning "to hear"or "listen to." Both readings today urge listening to God. Our response is based on what we choose to hear. When we choose life, when we choose God, I have found that in a sense life gets a little easier. The difficulty is there, but there is a peace that follows the choice, an inner peace that grows with each choice. With each choice to enter deeper into the mystery, God pours more grace, more love, into your being. There is a peace that prevails, even through the difficult moments. This has been the great discovery of this final year of discernment. The freeing peace of God that begins to take over one's life when one listens and chooses life.

The Parable of the Vineyard

It was the stone rejected by the builders
that became the keystone.
This was the Lord's doing
and it is wonderful to see?

Lord,
am I rejecting you when you come to the vineyard you have blessed me with?

Am I beating you with my deafness?
With my stubborn pride?
With my selfish desires?
With my unwillingness to surrender?
Or with my lazy indifference?

Do I reject you with my deafness while I pretend to be your friend?

Am I paying you your share through the use of my talent?

Am I paying you your share through the love of your people?

Act the Part

Years ago, when I considered making the shift in my broadcasting career from the programming side to the sales side, I went to a former GM...who had actually fired me...to ask his advice. Dougie was a veteran Chicago media seller who was delighted to speak with me. "Jimmy," which he always called me, "First time I've ever seen you in a suit." (Disk jockeys don't own suits!) "Great. Always dress like you don't need the sale." Dougie's point was to act the part. Act and behave like a top seller even if you aren't one yet. He was right.
Maybe I pushed it a little too far, because some clients thought I was arrogant, but most felt at ease working with someone they perceived to know what they were doing.

I thought of Dougie while reading Mark's Gospel today. "I tell you everything you ask and pray for, believe that you already have it and it will be yours."(Mk.11:24) What great Lenten direction! Act like you are already healed. Praying for patience? Act patiently. Don't hold back, act as if you are filled with the Father's grace, and you will be. Act like you don't need the sale. I think "act" is such an important word here. In my life, the Lord has given me the grace to deal with some very serious issues of sinfulness. The conversion does not just happen. God not only moves toward us, we move toward him as well. We act as if we are already in his love. When we do, we come to know that his love is present in us and is continuing to grow in us. But we have to act...act like we don't need the sale.