"O all ye that pass by the way, attend, and see if there be any sorrow like to my sorrow..." -- Lamentations 1:12a (Douay-Rheims)
This morning after Mass I found myself holding and praying with a fellow parishioner whose 17-year-old godson unexpectedly committed suicide yesterday. There was nothing to say or do for a time but be there with her in her grief.
When I was younger--and even still now, to a certain extent--my instinct would have been to try to "fix" it: to say the right thing or do something to make the hurt go away. But many years ago at a retreat house I came across a small book by Fr. Henri Nouwen called Out of Solitude: Three Meditations on the Christian Life. In one of the meditations, he talks about the difference between "curing" and "caring."
When faced with another's pain and brokenness, we often want to cure them, come up with a solution, kiss it and make it all better. But many times our efforts, though well-intended, actually serve to inflict more pain. Our efforts fail to acknowledge the reality and depth of their pain. They rob the person of the right to struggle, to grieve.
Sometimes the worst thing we can do is say something like, "I know just how you feel." No one, even someone who has gone through an almost identical loss, truly knows what another's grief feels like. Each person's suffering is unique. Truly, "there is no sorrow like my sorrow."
Caring, on the other hand, doesn't approach the grieving and wounded as problems to be fixed. Rather, they are people to be loved. And the best way to love someone is often to just be there with them, sharing in their suffering. (Compassion in its Latin roots means "to suffer with.") Yes, there is a time for practical assistance. But often the best thing you can do, especially at first, is say nothing, but just be there, letting them know by your presence that they're not suffering alone. Yes, it's uncomfortable, especially at first. But with the help of the Lord and His Mother, it can be done.
I'm very grateful to Fr. Nouwen for having written that meditation. It redirected my thinking in a way that continues to have repercussions in my life even today, even this morning, as I held and prayed with a grieving godmother.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Friday, February 24, 2012
Preparing for birth
When a woman is in travail she has sorrow, because her hour has come; but when she is delivered of the child, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a child is born into the world. -- John 16:21 (RSV)
I have often wondered how a pre-born child perceives its approaching birth. Does it realize that it is growing and developing in preparation for its entry into the "outside world"? Or does it experience it simply as a growing restriction on its previous freedom to move, as the space within which it dwells becomes more and more cramped, until at last its limbs are tightly wrapped around itself and it is able to move only with the greatest difficulty?
And what about the birth process itself? How does it experience contractions as it feels itself being pushed by forces beyond its control, head first, against a seemingly immovable wall? To the extent that it is able, does it think that it is dying?
It's interesting, isn't it, that one of the common features in many peoples' "near death" experiences is the sense of going down a dark tunnel toward a bright light -- something like traveling down a birth canal.
Dear Lord Jesus, as I gradually experience the physical restrictions that come with aging and finally the death process itself, help me to remember that what we call the "throes of death" are really only the labor pains for being born into the fullness of new life with You. Amen.
I have often wondered how a pre-born child perceives its approaching birth. Does it realize that it is growing and developing in preparation for its entry into the "outside world"? Or does it experience it simply as a growing restriction on its previous freedom to move, as the space within which it dwells becomes more and more cramped, until at last its limbs are tightly wrapped around itself and it is able to move only with the greatest difficulty?
And what about the birth process itself? How does it experience contractions as it feels itself being pushed by forces beyond its control, head first, against a seemingly immovable wall? To the extent that it is able, does it think that it is dying?
It's interesting, isn't it, that one of the common features in many peoples' "near death" experiences is the sense of going down a dark tunnel toward a bright light -- something like traveling down a birth canal.
Dear Lord Jesus, as I gradually experience the physical restrictions that come with aging and finally the death process itself, help me to remember that what we call the "throes of death" are really only the labor pains for being born into the fullness of new life with You. Amen.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Carrying others to Jesus
"They came bringing to him a paralytic carried by four men. Unable to get near Jesus because of the crowd, they opened up the roof above him. After they had broken through, they let down the mat on which the paralytic was lying. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic,
'Child, your sins are forgiven.'"--Mark 2:3-5 (NAB)
We all in one way or another have been brought to Jesus thanks to the faith of others. Some of us were brought to Baptism as infants, thanks to the faith of one or both of our parents. Others came to the Lord as adults, borne by the faith of friends or maybe an author we read or someone we heard on the radio or saw on TV.
In addition to the actions of others that we're aware of, we have all been brought to the Lord by the prayers of others. Two months before she died of tuberculosis at age 24, St. Therese said to her sisters, "How often have I thought that I may owe all the graces I've received to the prayers of a person who begged them from God for me, and whom I shall know only in heaven." (St. Therese of Lisieux, Her Last Conversations, July 15, 1897)
Lord Jesus, help me to be both humbled and grateful for all the people, known and unknown, who have borne me by their faith to You throughout my life. And help me--in my words, actions, and especially my prayers--to persevere in bringing others to You. Grant me the faith, determination, and perseverance of the friends of the paralytic, not giving up until those You have given me to carry to You are at Your feet and You speak to their hearts the word of healing that they need to hear. Amen.
'Child, your sins are forgiven.'"--Mark 2:3-5 (NAB)
We all in one way or another have been brought to Jesus thanks to the faith of others. Some of us were brought to Baptism as infants, thanks to the faith of one or both of our parents. Others came to the Lord as adults, borne by the faith of friends or maybe an author we read or someone we heard on the radio or saw on TV.
In addition to the actions of others that we're aware of, we have all been brought to the Lord by the prayers of others. Two months before she died of tuberculosis at age 24, St. Therese said to her sisters, "How often have I thought that I may owe all the graces I've received to the prayers of a person who begged them from God for me, and whom I shall know only in heaven." (St. Therese of Lisieux, Her Last Conversations, July 15, 1897)
Lord Jesus, help me to be both humbled and grateful for all the people, known and unknown, who have borne me by their faith to You throughout my life. And help me--in my words, actions, and especially my prayers--to persevere in bringing others to You. Grant me the faith, determination, and perseverance of the friends of the paralytic, not giving up until those You have given me to carry to You are at Your feet and You speak to their hearts the word of healing that they need to hear. Amen.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Open our eyes, Lord, that we may see!
"When the servant of the man of God arose and went out, he saw the force with its horses and chariots surrounding the city. 'Alas! he said to Elisha. 'What shall we do, my lord?' Elisha answered, 'Do not be afraid. Our side outnumbers theirs.' Then he prayed, 'O LORD, open his eyes, that he may see.' And the LORD opened the eyes of the servant, and he saw that the mountainside was filled with fiery chariots and horses around Elisha." -- 2 Kings 6:15-17 (NAB)
The great cloud of witnesses that surrounds us is not there merely to encourage us and give us good example. We are surrounded by the powerful servants, the hosts of the armies of GOD!
I find it very helpful to remind myself of two key attributes of God: that He is all-powerful and all-loving. That God is all-powerful is a tenet of many religions. But the fact that God is all-loving -- that He is Love Itself -- that is unique to the Judeo-Christian tradition.
This can be a life-changing reality for us. For the fact that He is all-powerful and all-loving means that He will use that power on my behalf. Too often, though, I forget that He stands ready to exercise that power, if I would only ask. Even those things that appear to be triumphs of evil, He can work for the good of those who love Him (cf. Rom. 8:28). How much more peaceful my life would be if my eyes were open to this truth!
Dear Lord Jesus, please open my eyes to the truth that You are all-powerful and, because of Your unchanging love for me, stand ready to exercise that power on my behalf. May this truth transform my life and the lives of all Your People. Amen.
The great cloud of witnesses that surrounds us is not there merely to encourage us and give us good example. We are surrounded by the powerful servants, the hosts of the armies of GOD!
I find it very helpful to remind myself of two key attributes of God: that He is all-powerful and all-loving. That God is all-powerful is a tenet of many religions. But the fact that God is all-loving -- that He is Love Itself -- that is unique to the Judeo-Christian tradition.
This can be a life-changing reality for us. For the fact that He is all-powerful and all-loving means that He will use that power on my behalf. Too often, though, I forget that He stands ready to exercise that power, if I would only ask. Even those things that appear to be triumphs of evil, He can work for the good of those who love Him (cf. Rom. 8:28). How much more peaceful my life would be if my eyes were open to this truth!
Dear Lord Jesus, please open my eyes to the truth that You are all-powerful and, because of Your unchanging love for me, stand ready to exercise that power on my behalf. May this truth transform my life and the lives of all Your People. Amen.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Abortion: The "Dark Sacrament"
"Be sober and vigilant. Your opponent the devil is prowling around like a roaring lion looking for [someone] to devour." -- I Peter 5:8 (NAB)
I have heard abortion referred to as a "dark sacrament" of the evil one. When you consider it in terms of the sacramental vision of the universe, the term takes on an even deeper meaning.
Abortion kills a child in its mother's womb, or in some cases even partially out of the womb. In a similar way, the evil one is trying to kill us, prevent us from being born into the kingdom of Heaven. Abortion is, in a sense, a visible sign of this invisible reality.
There's a key difference, though. A child cannot do anything to protect itself from being killed through abortion. Mortal sin, which kills the soul by separating it from God, requires that the action be seriously wrong (i.e., "grave matter"); that we know that it's seriously wrong; and that we freely choose to do it anyway (cf The Catechism of the Catholic Church, para. 1857ff.) In other words, we have to cooperate in our own destruction.
But God has provided a remedy by sending His Only Son, Jesus, Who, like the innocent pre-born child, suffered death at the hands of the evil one. But three days later, He came to life again, victorious over death, and He now offers to share that victory with all of us who, unlike the pre-born child, have cooperated in our own destruction. He will restore us and raise us to life again with Him. All we have to do is cooperate in our resurrection to life by saying, "Yes" to Him.
My dear Lord Jesus, thank you so much for Your indescribable Mercy. Please help us, and all people, to never despair, but to always turn to You for new life. Amen.
I have heard abortion referred to as a "dark sacrament" of the evil one. When you consider it in terms of the sacramental vision of the universe, the term takes on an even deeper meaning.
Abortion kills a child in its mother's womb, or in some cases even partially out of the womb. In a similar way, the evil one is trying to kill us, prevent us from being born into the kingdom of Heaven. Abortion is, in a sense, a visible sign of this invisible reality.
There's a key difference, though. A child cannot do anything to protect itself from being killed through abortion. Mortal sin, which kills the soul by separating it from God, requires that the action be seriously wrong (i.e., "grave matter"); that we know that it's seriously wrong; and that we freely choose to do it anyway (cf The Catechism of the Catholic Church, para. 1857ff.) In other words, we have to cooperate in our own destruction.
But God has provided a remedy by sending His Only Son, Jesus, Who, like the innocent pre-born child, suffered death at the hands of the evil one. But three days later, He came to life again, victorious over death, and He now offers to share that victory with all of us who, unlike the pre-born child, have cooperated in our own destruction. He will restore us and raise us to life again with Him. All we have to do is cooperate in our resurrection to life by saying, "Yes" to Him.
My dear Lord Jesus, thank you so much for Your indescribable Mercy. Please help us, and all people, to never despair, but to always turn to You for new life. Amen.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Earth in the midst of Heaven
"... no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived, what God has prepared for those who love Him..." -- I Corinthians 2:9 (RSV)
In recent years, I've joked with friends that I've developed "Adult-Onset Attention Deficit Disorder," referring to my seeming inability as I get older to maintain focus the way I used to. :-) In light of my "AOADD", I don't know why I thought I'd be able to maintain focus on a single topic like Elijah-Elisha for several weeks! I've interrupted it once already, and I'm going to do it again. Yes, I'm planning to get back to it at some point, but right now I have other thoughts pushing to the front of my brain, so I'm going to try to get some of them down first.
This week at my parish we had an excellent guest speaker, Fr. Michael Keating, a professor at the University of St. Thomas in Minneapolis. He opened a new series at our parish on the Catholic World View. By the time this post goes up, the talk should be up on our parish's audio Web site, ctkcc.libsyn.com. It would be well worth taking the time to listen to it.
One of the many things that Fr. Michael mentioned that really struck me was his observation that our society has lost a "sacramental vision" of the world, that is, that all of creation is a mingling of the visible and the invisible, what is seen and unseen. Just as a sacrament is, among other things, a visible sign of an invisible reality, so for the Catholic mind the whole universe is sacramental, everything that is visible reveals something deeper.
His remarks brought to mind an image that I first started thinking about more seriously several years ago when I read the excellent book Midwife for Souls by hospice nurse Kathy Kalina. As implied in the title, she compares the process of dying to the birth process.
This started me thinking about the pre-born child in her mother's womb. Does that baby have any idea that she is surrounded by an entire world beyond her imagination? Yes, she can hear her mother's heartbeat and probably some other sounds; she may even have experiences of her mother's or father's hand caressing her through the wall of the womb. But does she have any idea that there is light and space and people surrounding her, loving her, eagerly awaiting her arrival in the "other world" beyond the womb? Truly her eye has not seen, her ear has not heard and her heart cannot conceive of what God has prepared for her.
I think we are much like that child in the womb. We are surrounded by the spiritual world, by "a great cloud of witnesses" (Heb. 12:1), full of beings--human, angelic, and divine--who love us beyond imagining. This world is not visible to our physical eyes, but it is close, very close, as close as a family is to their child/sibling in the womb. If we have a "sacramental vision," we can see the signs pointing to this great reality and let that reality transform our lives.
Dear Lord, open the eyes of our hearts and spirits to see the cloud of witnesses surrounding us. May the knowledge that we are surrounded by such a world of love transform our approach to this world and to those who share this world with us. Amen.
In recent years, I've joked with friends that I've developed "Adult-Onset Attention Deficit Disorder," referring to my seeming inability as I get older to maintain focus the way I used to. :-) In light of my "AOADD", I don't know why I thought I'd be able to maintain focus on a single topic like Elijah-Elisha for several weeks! I've interrupted it once already, and I'm going to do it again. Yes, I'm planning to get back to it at some point, but right now I have other thoughts pushing to the front of my brain, so I'm going to try to get some of them down first.
This week at my parish we had an excellent guest speaker, Fr. Michael Keating, a professor at the University of St. Thomas in Minneapolis. He opened a new series at our parish on the Catholic World View. By the time this post goes up, the talk should be up on our parish's audio Web site, ctkcc.libsyn.com. It would be well worth taking the time to listen to it.
One of the many things that Fr. Michael mentioned that really struck me was his observation that our society has lost a "sacramental vision" of the world, that is, that all of creation is a mingling of the visible and the invisible, what is seen and unseen. Just as a sacrament is, among other things, a visible sign of an invisible reality, so for the Catholic mind the whole universe is sacramental, everything that is visible reveals something deeper.
His remarks brought to mind an image that I first started thinking about more seriously several years ago when I read the excellent book Midwife for Souls by hospice nurse Kathy Kalina. As implied in the title, she compares the process of dying to the birth process.
This started me thinking about the pre-born child in her mother's womb. Does that baby have any idea that she is surrounded by an entire world beyond her imagination? Yes, she can hear her mother's heartbeat and probably some other sounds; she may even have experiences of her mother's or father's hand caressing her through the wall of the womb. But does she have any idea that there is light and space and people surrounding her, loving her, eagerly awaiting her arrival in the "other world" beyond the womb? Truly her eye has not seen, her ear has not heard and her heart cannot conceive of what God has prepared for her.
I think we are much like that child in the womb. We are surrounded by the spiritual world, by "a great cloud of witnesses" (Heb. 12:1), full of beings--human, angelic, and divine--who love us beyond imagining. This world is not visible to our physical eyes, but it is close, very close, as close as a family is to their child/sibling in the womb. If we have a "sacramental vision," we can see the signs pointing to this great reality and let that reality transform our lives.
Dear Lord, open the eyes of our hearts and spirits to see the cloud of witnesses surrounding us. May the knowledge that we are surrounded by such a world of love transform our approach to this world and to those who share this world with us. Amen.
Friday, February 3, 2012
The Elishas: Awe-inspiring and beseiged
When Herod realized that he had been deceived by the magi, he became furious. He ordered the massacre of all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity two years old and under, in accordance with the time he had ascertained from the magi. -- Matthew 2:16 (NAB)
I've long felt that the Lord has something very special in mind for the Elisha generation. What is particularly amazing to me is how the evil one seems to have sensed this, and so has tried to destroy them even from their mothers' wombs, just as he tried to destroy Jesus shortly after His birth. Those he was not able to destroy in the womb he has continued to pursue with all the terrible things that "the world, the flesh, and the devil" can devise.
But those who have surrendered their lives to the Lordship of Jesus are showing signs of becoming amazing young men and women. Recently I was looking at the blogs of two of our young adults who are serving the Lord full-time in third world countries. I also had the opportunity to watch on YouTube the vocation stories of some young men that I know who are in seminary. I marvel at the generosity of these young men and women in their response to the Lord, a generosity that is by no means unique to them. It is truly awe-inspiring.
Dear Lord Jesus, I praise and bless You for what You are doing in the lives of the "Elishas." I ask You to protect from harm those who have already surrendered their lives to You and to snatch from the jaws of the lion those who are in danger of being destroyed. May Your will be accomplished through, with and in them, both now and forever. Amen.
I've long felt that the Lord has something very special in mind for the Elisha generation. What is particularly amazing to me is how the evil one seems to have sensed this, and so has tried to destroy them even from their mothers' wombs, just as he tried to destroy Jesus shortly after His birth. Those he was not able to destroy in the womb he has continued to pursue with all the terrible things that "the world, the flesh, and the devil" can devise.
But those who have surrendered their lives to the Lordship of Jesus are showing signs of becoming amazing young men and women. Recently I was looking at the blogs of two of our young adults who are serving the Lord full-time in third world countries. I also had the opportunity to watch on YouTube the vocation stories of some young men that I know who are in seminary. I marvel at the generosity of these young men and women in their response to the Lord, a generosity that is by no means unique to them. It is truly awe-inspiring.
Dear Lord Jesus, I praise and bless You for what You are doing in the lives of the "Elishas." I ask You to protect from harm those who have already surrendered their lives to You and to snatch from the jaws of the lion those who are in danger of being destroyed. May Your will be accomplished through, with and in them, both now and forever. Amen.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Solomon: a warning to the Elishas and to all
When Solomon was old his wives had turned his heart to follow other gods, and his heart was not entirely with the LORD, his God, as the heart of David his father had been. -- I Kings 11:4 (NAB)
In some ways, the story of Solomon is one of the saddest in Scripture.
He started out with everything he needed to be a success. His father David had provided him with the kingship, with victory over his enemies, and with a big head start on all the materials needed to successfully fulfill his mission of building the Temple. And he himself acted wisely at the beginning by eliminating his internal enemies and humbly asking God for wisdom to lead His people.
But early on, there are signs of later trouble ahead: He married Pharoah's daughter in order to ally himself by marriage with the king of Egypt (cf. I Kings 3:1). This shows a lack of trust in God to defend his kingdom, as further demonstrated by subsequent marriage alliances with many other nations. But even worse, he directly violated one of the commandments of the Lord to Moses (cf I Kings 11:2, Ex. 34:11-16). The Lord had given Moses that commandment precisely because He knew the danger that would come to the Israelites from intermarriage with the pagans around them, a danger to which Solomon eventually succumbed.
So even though Solomon was successful in fulfilling his mission of building the Temple for the Lord and was wildly successful in the eyes of the world, he was, in the end, a failure in the eyes of God. He lost sight of the true definition of success, that is, being faithful to the Lord to the end.
As a result, instead of ending his years like his father David, "rich in years and wealth and glory" (I Chr. 29:28), he died bitter and disillusioned, writing near the end of his life, "Vanity of vanities, all is vanities." (Ecc. 1:2) And the legacy that he left for his son Rehoboam was not a strong kingdom, like what he had been given by his father David, but a kingdom on the verge of division and ruin, as a result of his sins.
Solomon's life stands as a warning to all, especially the Elishas. It is not enough to begin well. We must also persevere to the end, not only for our own sakes, but for the sakes of those who will follow us. For every Elisha is an Elijah to the generation to follow.
Dear Lord, in Your great mercy, please grant all of us the grace of perseverance in following You faithfully to the end. Amen.
In some ways, the story of Solomon is one of the saddest in Scripture.
He started out with everything he needed to be a success. His father David had provided him with the kingship, with victory over his enemies, and with a big head start on all the materials needed to successfully fulfill his mission of building the Temple. And he himself acted wisely at the beginning by eliminating his internal enemies and humbly asking God for wisdom to lead His people.
But early on, there are signs of later trouble ahead: He married Pharoah's daughter in order to ally himself by marriage with the king of Egypt (cf. I Kings 3:1). This shows a lack of trust in God to defend his kingdom, as further demonstrated by subsequent marriage alliances with many other nations. But even worse, he directly violated one of the commandments of the Lord to Moses (cf I Kings 11:2, Ex. 34:11-16). The Lord had given Moses that commandment precisely because He knew the danger that would come to the Israelites from intermarriage with the pagans around them, a danger to which Solomon eventually succumbed.
So even though Solomon was successful in fulfilling his mission of building the Temple for the Lord and was wildly successful in the eyes of the world, he was, in the end, a failure in the eyes of God. He lost sight of the true definition of success, that is, being faithful to the Lord to the end.
As a result, instead of ending his years like his father David, "rich in years and wealth and glory" (I Chr. 29:28), he died bitter and disillusioned, writing near the end of his life, "Vanity of vanities, all is vanities." (Ecc. 1:2) And the legacy that he left for his son Rehoboam was not a strong kingdom, like what he had been given by his father David, but a kingdom on the verge of division and ruin, as a result of his sins.
Solomon's life stands as a warning to all, especially the Elishas. It is not enough to begin well. We must also persevere to the end, not only for our own sakes, but for the sakes of those who will follow us. For every Elisha is an Elijah to the generation to follow.
Dear Lord, in Your great mercy, please grant all of us the grace of perseverance in following You faithfully to the end. Amen.
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