Thirtieth Sunday – Ordinary Time Cycle C

23 October 2010
Comments (18)

Reflecting on 2 Tm 4:6-8, 16-18

It’s frustrating not to know more about the world of Jesus and St. Paul.  But there is a clue in the second reading today, an actual insider’s joke from St. Paul (or one of his disciples) to the church headed by Timothy in Ephesus.

Nero's Olympics

“I have competed well, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.  And from now on, the crown of righteousness awaits me.”  Hmm.  Why does he use the image of an athlete competing in a race, finishing it and wearing the crown?  Could it be that Paul, from his chains, is sending along a little joke about the crazy man on the throne, the dreaded Emperor Nero, the one who would be his executioner?  I think so.

By the time this letter was written the whole Roman Empire was laughing at Nero because, at the Olympics in the year 67, he actually bribed the judges to let him compete.  He entered himself in six races and, guess what, won every one of them (no competitors allowed). And when he fell off his chariot in the race against himself, he still won and got to wear the victor’s wreath and process around the stadium to thunderous applause-on-demand.

Thanks, St. Paul.  All these millennia later, we still get the message.  Unlike Nero, we’ll run the real race and we’ll finish it.  We’ll keep the faith.  And at the finish line, with our last breaths, we will reach for Him who has forgiven us.  And the heavens will rejoice that another set of sinners has been lifted onto the Winner’s Podium, to be crowned on high with eternal life in Christ Jesus.

Special thanks to my friend Thomas Smith for the background information given in this column.

Sharing God’s Word at Home:

How do you feel you are doing in “running the race” of faithfulness to your baptismal vows?

What would YOU like to say about this question, or today’s readings, or any of the columns from the past year? The sacred conversations are setting a Pentecost fire! Register here today and join the conversation.

I have come to light a fire on the earth; how I wish it were already burning (Lk.12:49).

18 Comments to “Thirtieth Sunday – Ordinary Time Cycle C”

  1. brebis galeuseOctober 23, 2010 at 12:43 pm

    Like Nero, I run this race all alone. Even when I plod, I still make some progress. When I fall, as long as I accept the grace to pick myself up again, I win and will get to wear the victor’s wreath. God is good.

  2. leehemmingerOctober 24, 2010 at 6:29 pm

    the word in this writing by Paul that has always stopped me cold is “rightousness”, simply because of my own interpretation of its meaning. Rightousness isn’t something I’ve had as a goal for my life, and have had to make a conscious effort to reduce its presence. The irony of today’s readings is that Luke’s Gospel suggests a different meaning for rightousness than explained in Paul’s writing. I hope that in the end, at the completion line, I will have competed well and kept the faith; but, I guess my own wish is that the crown will be one of forgiveness and mercy, rather than rightousness. Will I have been always faithful to my baptismal vows? Good question: what were those vows? If that was to love the Lord my God with my whole heart, mind and soul, and to love others as myself, I think God would say I’ve done that, even during the dark nights. We are called to holiness, community, mission and ministry, and my own belief is that each of these calls is accomplished by imitating Christ in our lives as much as humanly possible, while offering repentance for our failures. But, there are other things I’m not so sure of. Have I accepted everything handed down through tradition as Gospel truth? Or, some of the exclusionary laws established by man? Not so much. So, I place my soul in God’s hands and trust always in his/her love, grace and mercy.

  3. eileenOctober 25, 2010 at 2:43 am

    I was in 2nd grade and I was nervous standing in the crowd of unfamiliar faces at the annual skating meet for Catholic schools. I had practiced hard and was sure of a win. I saw the starting line in the big oval and took my place. The gun went off and my little legs were shushing. Shush, shush they went as I flew on the skates. But when I looked up everyone was a mile ahead of me. That’s when I realized that I was in the race with the 5th graders! To this day I remember only two other things. One, I was not going to quit and two, how wonderful my mother’s arms were at the finish line.

  4. Jen RadosevichOctober 25, 2010 at 1:15 pm

    Every time I hear this section of Paul’s letter to Timothy, I am reminded of my graduation from Catholic Biblical School–how we sang this song after Communion and how it was so full of meaning–everyone was moved. It wasn’t just that we had finished, but that we had finished well–celebrating “victories” with Jane, Kathy, Jennifer, so many things . . . It also holds, what I feel like, was a special message just for “our group” at Peg’s funeral this spring.

    I was a little surprised by your reflections, Kathy . . . Paul poking fun at Nero? But, I have to say, the more I think about it, the more I love it. I love the idea that we’ve missed something of an ‘inside’ joke–after all, we are only getting one side of the letter writing. How good is God, that even in the absurd–as Nero surely was–God can reveal His goodness and love?

    I have to say too, on a little bit of a personal note, I love that Peg was in on the joke before me. I loved that you help me to be surprised and challenged by scripture that is so familiar. It only serves to make it that much more comforting. Thanks!

  5. ChrisOctober 26, 2010 at 2:51 am

    I always envision Paul breathing hard as I read this … “I have competed well” – breathe – “I have finished the race” – breathe – “I have kept the faith.” – breathe. The last phrase is the one that gets me, that challenges me, “I have kept the faith”. It is the key to it all, our willingness to keep coming back, to get up when we fall down, to fight back the darkness, to just pray.

    I pray we all keep the faith of our baptismal vows and that we have the courage to lean on our God when we are weak.

  6. ChrisOctober 26, 2010 at 2:53 am

    BTW, thanks Kathy for this web site and helping us to all think a little deeper about our faith.

  7. leehemmingerOctober 26, 2010 at 4:20 pm

    Brebis – I hope you don’t always feel that you run this race alone; allow those of us here to accompany you, and lift you up when you need it.

  8. CrisOctober 26, 2010 at 6:17 pm

    I just want to thank everyone for stimulating my mind and heart regarding the scriptures. At the moment I am poised to give the final reflection tonight here at St Thomas More Lynchburg where I have been conducting the parish mission.
    Thank you all for your prayers and for sharing your experiences of the sacred. They have all been very helpful in my preparation. Gratefully- – Cris

  9. MichaelCarlosOctober 27, 2010 at 2:06 am

    I love Kathy’s suspicion that there is an insider’s joke in this week’s epistle. I wonder how many people noticed there is an interesting rhetorical trick played on readers in the gospel.

    Notice the opening line: “He then addressed this parable to those who were convinced of their own righteousness and despised everyone else.” First of all, it’s INCREDIBLY rare for the evangelists to intrude on the gospel in this way by introducing an explanation that is clearly editorializing. This is not one of the tricky parables: it’s clear at the end which attitude of prayer is preferred in God’s eyes. So why introduce the story this way? If you pay attention, the moment you hear that this parable is aimed at the self-righteous, what is your instinctive response? That’s right: “He’s certainly not talking about ME!” The evangelist sets us up to choose a side, so we naturally assume we’re one of the good guys, and we are sure the message is for someone else. But that’s the joke: it’s precisely this same attitude that is condemned in the parable. It’s a real dilemma, and at the heart of our call to live as witnesses to the gospel and at the same time to humbly acknowledge our need for grace and forgiveness where we are struggling or weak.

    Each week, I read the rich reflections on this site that are composed with such intimate, poetic power. There is a real humility in these personal stories, and a clear reluctance to fall into pride. But I hope that everyone who has had the courage and generosity to share your thoughts knows how brightly your faith shines, how your witness is a light to others who share this journey with you. Thank you for articulating the grace you encounter and the struggles you face as the Word stirs in us each week. You are a gift!

  10. brebis galeuseOctober 27, 2010 at 2:17 pm

    Lee, I didn’t mean to imply that I don’t get any help in running the race. What I meant to convey is that my salvation is my responsibility. God is holding eternal life for me, and I need to accept it. Of course, others are helpful by example and compassion, but only I can accept God’s grace for me. Therefore, I ultimately run the race alone.

    And, MichaelCarlos, whenever I hear these readings, my reaction is to pull a dagger out of my heart, knowing that I am one of those to whom it is addressed. I end up in an examination of conscience that’s wholly embarrassing, because I am self-righteous. I do think that I hold to Christ’s teachings better than others. It’s my pride that makes me believe that he is pointing a finger at me . . . and me alone. While I don’t actually pray in thanksgiving for being unlike the sinners, neither do I pray, “Lord forgive me for I am a sinner.”

  11. Gloria A. VarelaOctober 27, 2010 at 6:22 pm

    Running the race seemed easier when I was younger. As an older woman I see the finish line from a different perspective. It isn’t just “a race”, anymore. It is now life. How am I called to finish my life? by Doing? or, by learning to Be in life in a different way? I am starting to read Joan Chittister’s book THE GIFT OF YEARS. I pray that I will learn how to walk (instead of run) the race, to be more gentle with myself, and, in so doing, that I will enjoy my surroundings more fully.

  12. CrisOctober 27, 2010 at 7:19 pm

    Thanks for your very calming input, Gloria. The race and the competition are seductive. Worse, even frenetic. Thanks for helping me focus on be-ing. – – Cris

  13. DonnaOctober 28, 2010 at 2:38 am

    What great discussions this week!
    Thank you Kathy and Thomas for the background on Nero, all these years reading this scripture and I never knew!
    Thinking about the question of running the race,and keeping my Baptismal promises.. I know that throughout my life I have stumbled in this “race” and sometimes I find myself crawling but by the grace of God I keep on going.
    I, like Michael Carlos, always find myself intrigued by this Gospel message, and he said it so well..”to humbly acknowledge our need for grace and forgiveness” Amen!
    This reminds me of one of my favorite scripture verses in Micah, “to do justice, and to love kindness, and walk humbly with your God”
    I plan on reading the book that Gloria mentions, and recommend a great book that I just finished that has enriched my own prayer life, entitled “The Jesuit Guide to almost everything” by James Martin, S.J.
    God Bless!

  14. leehemmingerOctober 28, 2010 at 6:56 pm

    Gloria, thanks for your great input. Being in my later years, it is still a mystery how to BE…there is still so much to be DONE, and sometimes I feel called to DO something about it. And, economic reasons dictate that I still must work, so it seems there is just not enought time to simply BE as often as I would like.
    @Brebis…we do ultimately run the race alone, don’t we? I hadn’t thought about it in your perspective. But, with God’s wonderful grace and love, we’ll make it to the end.

  15. adminkOctober 29, 2010 at 5:26 pm

    Hi everybody,

    What a wonderful week you all provided for the hundreds of readers on this site. The contributions are all so thoughtful and rich. People tell me all the time how much they enjoy reading the conversations.

    Jen, how great to hear from you again. Yes, I heard from many of the members of that great graduation class this week. We all hold this scripture from 2 Timothy so close to our hearts because it was the signature scripture of your class. We had all fought hard to finish the race, and the closeness of your class is one of the great fruits of that struggle.

    As we near All Saints and All Souls Day, may I ask you all to remember the two members of that class who sang the beautiful song that goes with that text with all their classmates that day? Jen Baxley and Peg Howlin have finished their race. O resurrected Christ, bring them into the fullness of light and life with you.

    And may I ask one more favor? I’ve been to two funerals of Biblical School grads this year, and both women died of ovarian cancer. Now, another grad, Mary Ellen Johnson, has been diagnosed with at least Stage Three ovarian cancer. Since I was blessedly healed of that disease, I have the courage to ask all of you to join me in praying for Mary Ellen as she searches for the strength to climb the mountain ahead of her.

    All you holy men and women, pray for us!

  16. adminkNovember 1, 2010 at 6:46 pm

    Oh, I am so sorry. How could I have forgotten that we also lost our dear classmates Jane Mahoney and Dale Monchego that year as well?

    And THANK YOU to all who have written to say that you are praying for Mary Ellen. She needs those prayers so badly. She has a steep mountain to climb.

    Love to you all—
    Kathy

  17. KarenNovember 2, 2010 at 4:04 am

    Thanks so much Kathy and Jen for remembering our Biblical School Class so lovingly. I too hear the song in my head everytime I read this scripture from 2 Timothy, and I tear up, missing those who have gone before us into the Hands of God… Thanks also for sharing the insight regarding Nero and that St. Paul was likely “making fun” of the emperor! It certainly changes the way I read this scripture specifically, and other Pauline texts too!

  18. BobbieNovember 4, 2010 at 9:39 pm

    How do you feel you are doing in “running the race” of faithfulness to your baptismal vows?
    Another election season has come to an end. I am so glad! There are too many promises that in reality should not be made and undoubtedly will be broken. But that’s the way of it. We try to take people at their word and then hang on to it.
    This Nero story has me chuckling and it makes me think of the political campaign as a race of competitors. Of course, my mind goes off to consider how our world has become so competitive. In some ways we’ve lost the message of cooperation. We compete for the lowest prices on things and send our companies overseas to leave so many people jobless in the US, while people in the third world work in our companies for pittance. We compete with the neighbor for who has more “stuff,” although I think he economy has slowed down the buying just because…. We compete with our ideology, theology, methodology. Who’s right, who’s wrong? We stand against each other. And like Nero, I think sometimes we stand against ourselves. I know that for me it wasn’t easy to vote. I had to wrestle with myself to be faithful to the way baptism calls me to live.
    It’s the everyday decisions that demonstrate my faithfulness. What candidate do I support? How do I live a “green” life? What do I recycle? How much “stuff” do I accumulate? With whom do I share what I have and who I am? How do I stand in solidarity with the poor? How do I spend my time? How do I pray and worship? What am I doing to grow in my relationship with a God who calls me to victory, a victory over myself, my false self, my sinfulness? The Faithful One calls me to faithfulness. Hmmm…. Who has priority for me? Whether I walk or run, skip or dance, I know that I have to follow Jesus the Leader. He is the One who invites cooperation, oneness, and community. Do I “run the race?” I don’t have one drop of athletic blood inside me so I’ll just pray, “Jesus, hold my hand. Walk with me? Please.”
    What great insights from everyone. Thank you.

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.

Twenty-ninth Sunday – Ordinary Time Cycle C

17 October 2010
Comments (11)

Reflecting on Exodus 17: 8-13

Last Sunday I was giving a talk about biblical history.   I had a big, heavy burlap chart that needed two people to hold it.  About ten minutes into this lesson Fred, dropping his arms (and thus the chart) said, “Will Aaron be coming soon?”  And the class, very biblically literate, erupted in laughter, recalling this story today from Exodus about Moses’ arms being held up by Aaron in the heat of the battle.

Victory, Oh Lord Painting by John Everett Millias 1829-1896

I looked at the couple I had recruited for the chart-holding task.  Their arms were aching, but they had dutifully stretched that chart across the room until they just couldn’t hold it anymore.  They, and hundreds of others, have been holding up the good works of the Church all their lives.

Afterwards, the doors of the hall burst open and a group of beautiful young adults came rushing in, hastily setting up the cots for a number of homeless families who will be staying at the parish this week.  They are part of a whole army of parishioners who will hold up the arms of these struggling families, providing friendship, food and shelter for them as the adults go to their jobs or look for work this week.

My cousin Maureen has a long list of people for whom she prays, every single day.  The years come and go, but she is always there, like the widow in Luke’s story today, holding up in prayer those who are sick, or jobless, or divorcing, or grieving.

Will Aaron be coming soon?  As I look at the faithful work of the Church around the world I can confidently say that he is already here.

Sharing God’s Word at Home:

How are you helping to hold up the arms of the weary?

What would YOU like to say about this question, or today’s readings, or any of the columns from the past year? The sacred conversations are setting a Pentecost fire! Register here today and join the conversation.

I have come to light a fire on the earth; how I wish it were already burning (Lk.12:49).

11 Comments to “Twenty-ninth Sunday – Ordinary Time Cycle C”

  1. brebis galeuseOctober 17, 2010 at 2:00 pm

    Ah, perseverance . . . tenacity . . . persistence . . . singleness of purpose . . .

    How well do I keep my eyes on the finish line?

    Which of my distractions fit into the requirements of the race? Righting a wrong? Speaking against an evil? Encouraging a parent?

    The human mind is capable of justifying almost any action. I try to guard against rationalizing my actions in light of the race, but I know that I fail often. Then, the graces of perseverance, tenacity, persistence and singleness of purpose give me the opportunity to turn back and focus on the finish line.

    My biggest difficulty is what Jesus tells his disciples, to pray always without becoming weary. I need to remember to pray not for what I want but for the will of God. It is not my worst fault, but it is right up there . . . wanting my will rather than God’s.

  2. beckyOctober 17, 2010 at 6:14 pm

    I am waery therefore I am lifted up more than I lift.
    I use to love charity work, I thrived on it. and I miss doing the things that I use to do, the things that made me feel alive and needed. But it seems that since I’ve retired and gone disability that I just don’t have the drive that I once had. I try to help my two little great-nieces. and their mom but even that wears on me sometimes. I think that I have told been too many time that I am an enabler. And now I worry that I may be loving those I love to the gates of hell or something. I miss the days when a good deed was just that “a good deed”. I do thank God for all the support and care I receive from friend and family. I am so truly Blessed. last sping I move into an appartment the first time in many year that I have been on my own and alone. And my need to move for the second time with in a year came about so sudden, but the Lord provided me with a good friend and her family and my uncle and hie family, and the move went though smoothly! I have had to learn that excepting help from those who want so to do good things for me is a charitable act as well. It’s not easy and down right embarrasing at times, I think they call that pride. But when I remember the inner peace I received when it was me giving help, and how worry that I felt when I wasn’t able too, I can’t say no thanks to their beaming smiles of love and care. I am waery and I am Blessed. Becky

  3. brebis galeuseOctober 18, 2010 at 12:56 am

    Becky — I was glad to read that you realize that allowing others to help you is a charitable act. I had a priest friend years ago who told me that when he asked me to do something for him, it was a gift to me. I thought about that a lot before realizing that he was correct. He gave me the gift of being able to do something for someone else.

    You and I have reached the time when we cannot do what we did before. So, we can now give the gift to others to allow them to do what we used to do. That is a great gift, isn’t it?

  4. beckyOctober 18, 2010 at 4:59 am

    Thank You Brebis, I was just glad that someone understooded what I was trying to say what with all my typos. There are many cycles in life. No one is on top forever, but it is hard to let go of the reins to a way of life like being a care taker, isnt it. It’s the cross we bear while on earth in these bodies. It’s with the grace we answer the calls from God that determine who we have become at each stage of life, that makes us saints and sinners.

  5. leehemmingerOctober 18, 2010 at 4:46 pm

    I confess that these past three years have been a lesson in humility. I have been humbled again and again, as the eldest child who grew up with the expectation of being able to do all things, for all people. And, certainly able to take of myself!! There have been times when there was no alternative to accepting help, when I was simply unable to do some things. But, ASKING has been another lesson entirely – it was more likely that I would just do things (like driving, when it wasn’t the safest thing to do) than ask for help. Maybe it was just plain pride, but also there was a component of fear, not wanting to feel let down when those asked were not able or available to assist. What I was able to ask for was prayers, which obviously was the most important, as I am now living a miracle of improvement. But, even that request wasn’t extended to every arena – you will notice that my name has been conspicuously missing from the parish prayer list. But, in the familiar arena of the Sisters of Charity it was easier to ask that they storm heaven for my intentions. And, I certainly did not always receive God’s will with grace. My journey to sainthood has been a bumpy one, and I continue to ask God for the strength, wisdom and acceptance to take the next step. One of my mom’s isms was “Pride goeth before a fall.” She didn’t ever say how far we had to fall.

  6. Steve GivensOctober 18, 2010 at 4:52 pm

    Makes me stop and ask myself this question today: who has been holding up their arms for me while the powers of good and evil duel for my life? Whoever you are, thanks be to God for you and praise to the One who pays attention to little things like me…

  7. vivianOctober 18, 2010 at 6:42 pm

    For 27 years I have been a divorced mother of five beautiful children. In the first few years of that time, I wondered how I would survive, how my children would be able to thrive without the benefit of their father, living at home and working. For many years, he earned a very good income. It allowed us the Catholic school education in grade school and high school. It was difficult after the divorce. I found a full-time job, continued with their education as it was, as the years went by, they each were emancipated, the child support was gone. We still needed to live, eat, travel back and forth to school and work. I struggled financially, eventually losing our big and spacious home. I remember the day I walked out of that home for the last time, dearest Kathy told me to walk around, take a last look and remember all the wonderful times spent there, the great parties inside and outside in the yard, and to leave all the bad memories there, close the door and look to my new home and build memories again. I thought then that I would surely give out, I realized that all along, not only was I being held up by both of my arms, but, that God was truly carrying me. He kept me on the right path, my children flourished as I did also. I loved my job working for the library. A job I kept for 26+ years and retired from last November. I now have 6 beautiful grandchildren, my daughters are all wonderful mothers and my son is a kind, loving, generous uncle to his nieces and nephews. I am very proud to be their mother. I was asked many times, who did you lean on in those lean times, my answer was always, on God… He has never let me down…

  8. sandyeroybalOctober 19, 2010 at 1:44 am

    Hi Kathy,
    I am not sure if I am logged-in or not. I am not receiving your weekly comments. I did receive them at first, but not lately. I love this site and I love reading everyones stories.

  9. CrisOctober 19, 2010 at 4:06 pm

    Vivian’s story leaves me pondering… how faithful God is even outside that sacrament of marriage! He never abandons his little ones. This is one of the reasons why I try to correct people explicitly when they refer to divorced people as coming from a “broken family.” Some people who are married are more “broken” than divorcees. – – Cris

  10. clm1127October 20, 2010 at 1:57 am

    Thank you, Cris, for the difference: Broken families aren’t necessarily the ones of divorce. Many things break families. And in review of the comments about helping others. You may never be able to pay back what someone does for you but you can always pay it forward! Allowing someone to be generous gives the giver grace also!

  11. Gloria A. VarelaOctober 22, 2010 at 4:22 pm

    My dear mother, Julieta 102, just passed away, surrounded my family and so much love! My husband and I cared for her in her elder years. You could say we were her ‘Aaron’ in so many different ways…truely, a blessing for us, to see the physical/mental decline of a person, to the very last breath. The paschal mystery…her dying, her death, with full expectation of her resurrection. Certainly those who have been close to us never die, as we carry them with us where ever we go, to the greater honor and glory of God.
    I am helping one of my daughers at this time in my life.I travelled out of state to be part of her little family as she awaits to deliver her third child. As a mother of five, I so appreciate all young mother’s sacrifices, having, and raising their children. The new generation. The future members of the Body of Christ. Amen.

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.

Twenty-eighth Sunday – Ordinary Times Cycle C

9 October 2010
Comments (19)

Reflecting on Luke 17:11-19

Do you have a certain time in your life that is so indelibly marked in your heart that you return to it almost daily?  For me that time is the fall of 2007, when a staph infection took me to the very limits of my strength.  Those horrible months are all stamped in my memory: the screaming pain, the overwhelming nausea, and the second-by-second waits for the medication to start working.  Those flashbacks return to me now, in this gorgeous fall of 2010, through the distinct sensory messengers of cooling days, leaves changing, and darkness descending earlier.  And this is what that suffering has seared in me:

One returned and thanked him

Utter delight, every single time I drive myself anywhere in the car.  Almost unbearable pleasure at the smell of apples falling from the trees. Laughing out loud as I walk by myself down the block in less than a minute, remembering the agony of trying to take even five steps at a time.  The ecstasy of walking into the grocery story.  The heavenly touch of those who love me.

But I think the most delicious experience of all is remembering, the endless remembering, of being brought back from the depths by the living Body of Christ―the hundreds of friends and family who took care of me through it all.   There can never be enough words of gratitude.  But it’s kind of a “cellular gratitude”.  It’s not anything conscious.  Pain dug a well that is now filled to overflowing with astonished gratitude.  Like the cured Samaritan leper, I will give thanks while I live.

Sharing God’s Word at Home:

Have you reached a place of “cellular gratitude”?

What would YOU like to say about this question, or today’s readings, or any of the columns from the past year? The sacred conversations are setting a Pentecost fire! Register here today and join the conversation.

I have come to light a fire on the earth; how I wish it were already burning (Lk.12:49).

19 Comments to “Twenty-eighth Sunday – Ordinary Times Cycle C”

  1. brebis galeuseOctober 9, 2010 at 12:20 am

    My heart is indelibly marked this time of year, too. It was ten years ago, as I watched my second son fighting for his life. I will never forget the ravages of chemotherapy and three fatal doses of radiation on his body to prepare him for the bone marrow transplant that didn’t, ultimately, work. Hate-filled words his bride screamed at him when he was at his lowest still come to my mind at the most unexpected times. The lack of support from my family members during his last months, when I needed them most still pains me at times. My mother screaming at me in front of my friends after the Rosary the night before his funeral, “I’m going to give you ONE LAST CHANCE to allow us to support you,” after the total silence from my family for the previous three months is indelibly imprinted on my brain.

    The worst kind of grief is that of a parent following the death of a child. I had already experienced this when my first son died, so I knew some of what to expect. I did not count on the help from the Holy Trinity, but it was there with all the graces I needed. I began to realize how many women want children but do not get that opportunity. I am grateful for the experience of mothering two beautiful, wonderful sons.

    I am most grateful for God’s grace keeping me from retaliating for hurts imposed on my baby (he was always my baby even at 28) — I am grateful that God’s grace covered my anger and allowed me to say the things that would be comforting to my son instead of the things that in my humanness I wanted to scream at those doing the hurting.

    My cellular gratitude is that Curt is now with his brother J.R. in heaven waiting for their Mom. I do not cling to this life, as much as I enjoy it most of the time, because I know that if I do what it takes to win the race, I will be with those sons for all eternity. How could one not be grateful for that?

  2. beckyOctober 10, 2010 at 5:07 am

    I have had many health issues over the years. And as I meet the peaks and valleys in the medical journey I have had to remember that doctors are people too. I have been blessed with really good one and I have had some that were sour grapes. Bitter and mean. But all along I always tell myself that my life is in God’s hands. If I live one more day or one hundred more years, it all in His good wisdom and grace that I am at all. I don’t like suffering it is the only part of illness that scares me. Death is not the thing I fear. But getting there is what I never want to journey through. Perhaps it’s because I spent many many years watching members of my family suffer long and hard illnesses. I have seen it divide us little by little. My sister’s baby died from SIDS at 21/2 months and then a week later our mom died after 2 months in ICU. Both were hard to deal with only one was a shock. But I have learned that what doesn3 kill us make us stronger if we have the courage to trust God and His wisdom, and His mercy.

  3. noory42@aol.comOctober 10, 2010 at 10:12 am

    Dear Kathy, I attended your lecture on Saturday,
    October 9 at St. Mary’s in Littleton, CO
    My love and prayers are with you as you
    continue this mission of Jesus’ Real Presence.
    How wonderful to hear your talk, it was a
    blessing for me.
    God bless you and Ben

  4. defensorOctober 10, 2010 at 7:05 pm

    I know extactly what you’re are talking about a staph infection. I had the same thing you had in the same hip, I had 4 surgeries, all together 8 surgeries. I didn’t know what to think, when I was going through all these surgeries, one think that I see now is how God was trying to get me closer to Him. you see that was the only time that I would go into deep prayer, with every surgerie. and when that was over, I would go back to my old ways. today I see his plan and am very grateful for his patients.He has given me a chance to live in his presence. my spirtual life is very good. Thanks to God.not to forget His Mother.

  5. bonita a richardsOctober 10, 2010 at 9:11 pm

    Am I registered on the Church of the Risen Christ denver web site?

  6. beckyOctober 11, 2010 at 10:30 pm

    Yeah, it’s me again. I have thought about my comment, and it wasn’t my best efford to express myself. Here is an example thats more personal. In 1988 I had an infection in my leg, I get celluitist pretty often because I have psoriasis. From that infection I developed blood clots that went to my lungs.One night I woke up and couldn’t breathe. While I was in the hospital my fever was so high that I hallucinated. When I was being let go. The doctor told me that I almost died. You know, I knew it, but hearing it was painful. There have been so many of these near death times what with car accidents and all, I am amazed at the mercy of God. Sometime I don’t know who I am that God reaches out and draws me back time and time again. This is how I have learned of the great love the Father has for His children. I once thought of suicide and He reminded me of all the times I could have died and didn’t. I learned what a gift this life is. Every life is call forth by Him, none are mistakes!

  7. Barbara WilliamsonOctober 12, 2010 at 10:02 pm

    My Dearest Kathy,
    How I remember those days of your illness–but I knew how strong a woman you are and I knew you would make it thru it all. LOOK HOW FAR YOU HAVE COME—YOUR STRENGTH IS SHOWING AND YOUR POSITIVE ATTITUDE IS TRULY A MARVEL!!!! I AM TRULY BLESSED TO HAVE YOU AND BEN AS FRIENDS
    Blessing
    Barbara

  8. CrisOctober 12, 2010 at 10:02 pm

    Brevis and Becky are saints! Thanks for your stories. It’s easy to be grateful when things are going well but when life clobbers you with a 2 X 4, repeatedly – – and you still keep singing the praises of the Lord, this is no longer a human act. It’s a God event.

    Thank you for these lessons. Pray that I truly learn from them.

    Cris

  9. leehemmingerOctober 13, 2010 at 2:23 am

    I guess I’ve been like the other 9 lepers in the past year; failing to give thanks for the good news. The past three years have been filled with so many things I have trouble remembering which one came when. In August 2007, they did a lung biopsy to diagnose an interstitial lung disease, pulmonary fibrosis, and the first of October told me my life expectancy would be 2-3 years. Then, October 27, 2007 I sutained a terrible fracture of my right humerus, leaving me unable to live my life with much activity (and unable to assist my dear friend Kathy in her time of need). A failed union requiring surgery to pin my arm the next summer; rapidly progressing cataracts due to high dose prednisone requiring bilateral eye surgery; the deaths of my 32 year old grandson, and two nephews age 35, two years apart; bilateral knee surgery; two car accidents, both totalling the car and one fracturing my sternum; one wonders which suffering is worse – physical or emotional. They both take their toll, and when they come in waves together it’s hard to tell them apart. Then, in January, when the tests on my lungs indicated an improvement, I really could not give thanks. I was tired and had no energy to have to go on working and dealing with all the therapy, etc. What was the purpose of this new information, and what did God want from me? This was the first time in my life that I had so much trouble dealing with the suffering in life, and it was difficult to feel God’s presence. Prayers continued, but it just didn’t seem like I could hear the answers. I’m in a much better place now, working for full surrender to God’s will, waiting for His plan to be revealed, but the questions continue: the nephew who died last April was the brother of my 34 year old niece who is dying of melanoma; together their ages don’t add up to mine, and I would gladly trade places with either one of them. Renay’s mother is losing her last child, and I’m still here. “Take up my cross and follow me” is a directive we can’t begin to comprehend, and I echo Mother Teresa: “I know God doesn’t give us more than we can handle. I only wish he didn’t trust me so much”. I guess He has trusted several of us a lot recently.

  10. MichaelCarlosOctober 13, 2010 at 3:39 am

    Cellular gratitude. I love that phrase, and it immediately struck a chord in me. Yes, there is a moment and place that is a part of who I am – beyond analysis, beyond self-reflection, beyond conscious thought, but always there in its entirety when I reach for it. It blesses and sustains me, and makes me forever grateful for the gifts that have sprung from that experience.

    It’s a specific place: the second pew on the left side of the sanctuary in my childhood parish. My memory is not of a single point in time, but is the endlessly repeated habit of an entire childhood — daily mass through most of my eight years of parochial school; the parade of Sundays structured by the beautiful rhythm of the liturgical year; holidays, baptisms, weddings, and even funerals. I remember every sensory experience: the color of the light from those simple stained glass windows, the sound of the fans and the swamp coolers in summer, the touch of hands during the Lord’s Prayer, the dancing flames from the votive candles, and always, always the faces and voices of my parish family. 

    That pew was like a safe, sacred island around which the torrent of my life flowed. My childhood was not without its sadnesses and struggles, but in that place I could hold in my heart all the happiness and blessings as a counterweight to those fears and wounds, and all the bad stuff dissolved in the glow of that vibrant, loving community of faith. My hopes and happiness were anchored in the countless hours I spent in that pew. This memory lives in me, even now when I live fifteen hundred miles and twenty years away, even when I rarely enter a church these days. I can close my eyes and be there once again: a child of God in the embrace of an extraordinary assembly of believers.       

  11. leehemmingerOctober 13, 2010 at 5:00 am

    how beautiful, Michael. What a grace-filled spirituality. Thanks for sharing your memories.

  12. mikeandbetsyOctober 14, 2010 at 6:17 pm

    Kathy, your remarks about gratitude encourage me. They are beautiful, and they make me feel a deep happiness to read how you have recovered from that crisis. I just bless you for coming out of that dark place to the kind of joy you are experiencing now.

    It’s telling too, that a clear comparison exists between how you experience your memories, and how I had just written in my journal last week about my own. I was back in Ohio, and the smells and sights of fall, the sounds of the trees and leaves falling, brought me back to another year also. But the cellular response of that memory was one of regret and embarrassment…1981, and mistakes I was in the middle of making that affected other people. I realized that those memories caused a bodily response…shrinking in the middle, crying tears from inside organs, and more. Then the bodily sensation of depression, like a bad taste in the mouth, only it is everywhere else too.Then I read how your memories of 2007 caused you to feel the unbearable joy you are talking about. Just at the same time I had been writing about how the unpleasant memories were causing me to feel unpleasant things.

    But I realized something else…. there were other memories; the good things that were going on during that time, that made me smile, to feel that gratitude, and appreciation: an older nurse I was working with who was a loving friend, a book that my brother gave me that was so moving to me I wrote the author and received a handwritten gracious response, and other good things.

    I wondered about this: maybe some people are wired differently, like me, to allow the unpleasant memories to dominate, pushing down the good ones…while some are wired to attend to the good ones, like you Kathy.

    Maybe we could call my response a habitual lack of gratitude. However at least this time, I did realize I had been pushing down the sweet memories and I savored them for awhile.

    Sorry to go on and on. Just to say that I don’t think I would have been the leper who returned to Jesus, but one who couldn’t believe the cure and anxiously looked for signs of returning disease.

    Could prayer be the difference? Staying close to Jesus? Which causes a cellular presence of Our Lord? Which leads to joyful gratitude and faith? This is just more encouragement for me; to keep trying to do the same; pray and stay as close as I can to the Lord.

  13. beckyOctober 14, 2010 at 8:27 pm

    Thank You Cris, but trust me Im no saint. Im one of those people who says “if they only knew the real me”. I have experienced some unusual things in my life. But who hasnt? This is how my mom raised me, “also remember that no matter how tough life gets, someone else has been there, done that or worse”. By the grace of God there go I! Thanks to everyone who shared and opened my eyes and heart wide and more profoundly to His mercy this week. Becky

  14. brebis galeuseOctober 15, 2010 at 11:11 am

    I’m not a saint, either, but I hope to be one day.

  15. DonnaOctober 16, 2010 at 1:06 am

    What sacred stories filled with heartbreak, love and beautiful memories have filled this column!
    You are all such a blessing!
    Thank you!
    Donna

  16. mamidecincoOctober 16, 2010 at 1:32 am

    My husband’s grandfather died this summer. He and my husband had a wonderful relationship and that was passed down from the two of them to our five children. His wishes were for no Mass, no funeral, no memorial. But I knew that my husband and our children needed a chance to remember him and to say “good bye for now”. They needed some closure as this was a very difficult loss. So we loaded everyone in the car and drove to California to his grave site.

    It was just the 7 of us at his grave. We stood and prayed. Then we started remembering. Everyone from my husband, our 13 year old son, all the way down to our two 6 year olds shared memories of their great grandfather. And as they shared and I listened and remembered…my heart was just filled to overflowing with gratitude. Gratitude that my husband and children had known this man and been loved so deeply by him…that he had managed to make each one of them feel like the most special person in the world to him. There wasn’t room for sorrow in my heart in those moments at his grave side…just complete joy and gratitude for God’s blessing of this man to my family.

    I was taken by surprise by feeling joy in a moment like that, but every time I think of that hot August day outside of Los Angeles, my heart swells with love and I can’t help but be thankful for the gift of love each of my family members have experienced through their grandfather.

    ~Kim

  17. eileenOctober 16, 2010 at 4:12 am

    I stood in church on Sunday next to my 92yr.old mother as this gospel was read. As it began speaking about the lepers I immediately felt part of the story. They were healed by Jesus who then told them to go see the priest. Why go to the priest? It was his responsibility to give the okay for them to return to their community, to let others know they are okay. Now ask yourself what if the priest had said NO? What if he wouldn’t even see them? This is where I find myself in this gospel. In accepting my homosexuality I felt the love of Jesus as I longed for his healing. I too went to the Bishop of Denver asking for acceptance but you know the end of that story. I held back the tears as I stood next to my mother. She is from the time when the Church was not an institution to be questioned. I stood with my head down, still too ashamed to tell her who I am.

  18. adminkOctober 16, 2010 at 3:55 pm

    Hi everybody,

    I am so touched, so deeply moved by the honest and deep sharings on the site this week. Thank you so very much for trusting this space, and its readers. I hope that it will continue to be a safe place for reflection and faith-building.

    I think the new essay for this weekend will be coming up soon, so let me just thank you all for a wonderful week.

    Kathy

  19. Artseller63October 16, 2010 at 8:04 pm

    Your reflection for the 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time, in which you shared with us your thoughts on “cellular gratitude,” hasinspired me to share… While I admit I have not been through the ordeals you have, life has brought me to the point where your words resonate loud and clear, beginning when – each day about 3:30 AM – my eyelids pop open and as soon as I realize I’m awake, I thank God for allowing me to try one more day to live my fullest for Him. With the exception of my sinful humanness, every single day is filled with gratitude for just being alive.

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.

Twenty-seventh Sunday – Ordinary Time Cycle C

2 October 2010
Comments (8)

Reflecting on 2 Timothy 1:6-8, 13-14

There’s an incendiary sentence in this week’s second reading from 2Timothy: “I remind you to stir into flame the gift of God bestowed when my hands were laid on you.”  Those of us in Colorado and California have had more than enough “flames” this season.  One hundred and sixty nine Boulder families were recently displaced when flames, whipped up by winds, darted from house to house, destroying homes and hundreds of acres of land.   It is the most costly fire in Colorado history.

Beautiful Zeenat. She’ll be President someday.

But it does give one pause.  How quickly, how ravenously a fire can consume anything in its wake.  A fire starts out quietly (in this case in a fire pit) and then builds volume as it spreads.  And it’s just that kind of fire that the author of the letter to Timothy is encouraging!

I’ve seen lots of those kinds of fires.  Twelve years ago my brother Marty pointed out a little girl in his inner-city Math class and said, “This kid will be President someday if somebody will just give her a little help.”  Last year, at age 18 and a first-year college student, she wowed the benefactors at the Seeds of Hope gala with her poised and thoughtful reflection on the many mentors who supported her as she navigated her way through elementary school and high school.  She’ll probably be President of her own non-profit someday.  She will undoubtedly spend her life stoking the same fires of compassion and justice that were darting around her during those difficult years.

Send forth the fires of your justice, God.  And let each one of us fan the flames of radical kindness and goodness into a fire that can never be extinguished.

Sharing God’s Word at Home:

Can you remember a kindness that one person extended that grew into a larger “firestorm” of good?

What would YOU like to say about this question, or today’s readings, or any of the columns from the past year? The sacred conversations are setting a Pentecost fire! Register here today and join the conversation.

I have come to light a fire on the earth; how I wish it were already burning (Lk.12:49).

8 Comments to “Twenty-seventh Sunday – Ordinary Time Cycle C”

  1. beckyOctober 2, 2010 at 9:20 pm

    My life has been richly blessed with kind people who have made a difference! And sad to say that I didn’t always realize what blessings that some of them were offering. I remember my God mother Rose, she was so sweet and humble, and very out spoken too. No rose colored glasses for Rose. But now that I am matured I see the wisdom she offered. It funny how true the saying that “youth is wasted on the young” is. Oh, the things I could have done if I had shut the mouth and opened the ears. When I fell away from the Church, she and many friends stuggled to open my eyes. Yet what they thought was falling on deaf ears, laid in my heart and smothered for year. Then one day a tiny ember began to glow and guide me back. Sometimes it’s a roaring fire and other times it’s a little flicker. But all along it has been flued by the love and care of good loving people that God led me to. Becky

  2. beckyOctober 2, 2010 at 9:27 pm

    p.s Im still trying to get the hang of being online from my cell. Sorry for all the typos!

  3. brebis galeuseOctober 3, 2010 at 8:43 pm

    In 1967, a friend’s family invited me to stay with them when my parents kicked me out of their house. I remember saying, “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.” Their response was, “If a time comes that someone needs help, and you’re in a position to help, do it.”

    I have found so many opportunities these past 43 years to help others the way I was helped. If they say that they don’t know how to repay me, I repeat, “If a time comes that someone needs help, and you’re in a position to help, do it.”

    I hope some people have caught “fire” in these endeavors. I’ll never know, but that doesn’t matter, does it?

  4. CrisOctober 4, 2010 at 4:50 pm

    A couple of months ago, a friend passed away at age 54. I circulated 40 slips of paper containing the e-mail of the beareaved wife so that after the 9-day novena, there will be 40 e-mails of daily support to the wife who lives by herself.
    Each slip of paper contains a date when the person who draws it is supposed to call the beareaved. I called the activity ‘Cadena de Amor’ – – (Chain of love.)
    Result: plethora of e-mail arrived, eventually compiled by the beareaved’s daughter into so many pages. The ember that turned into conflagration. – – Cris

  5. ChrisOctober 5, 2010 at 2:23 am

    “a Spirit of love and self contoll”

    Well, tonight I am excersizing the “love and self control”. I am struggling to help my son as he works to choose the next steps in his life (he’s a senior in High School). On one hand he wants to enlist in the Marines, the next hand he wants to go to a military college, the next he wants to just goof off. I’m fine with him joining the military, it’s the “on again” and “off again” that makes it hard.

    Some of it is him being 17, I know. But it is most difficult when working to be a guide and you feel like you’re being ignored. My son is ADHD and it only adds to the difficulty at times.

    Ahh, well, thanks to the Holy Spirit, I have the courage and self control to continue to support, guide, and love him. But it does take a great deal of perseverance, persistance and patience .

  6. ChrisOctober 5, 2010 at 2:25 am

    Thanks for listening to my rant. Sometimes it helps to just “say” the words.

  7. leehemmingerOctober 5, 2010 at 1:07 pm

    I have recently been writing a blog about my life, for my adopted daughter. In doing so, the many individuals who had an impact on my life at every level have been recalled. And, I wonder to myself if they have any idea what their caring and love meant, and how my life was guided by so many. Most will never know, for as Becky states, “Youth is wasted on the young.” The results weren’t always immediate, in fact laid fallow in my heart at times, needing some reminder to re-kindle the flame. So, as Brebis, I have tried to ‘pay it forward’ when an opportunity arises, and find that most of the time the results aren’t as obvious as was the case with the lovely child in Kathy’s story. But, remembering my own experiences, I’m comforted to realize that you never know when the fire will erupt!
    Chris, I hold you in prayer. Such difficult years for parents!! We always want to lift them up over the mud puddles, spare them from the mess of life, and they always need to wallow in the mud and experience it themselves, don’t they? 🙂

  8. Debra SparnOctober 8, 2010 at 9:16 pm

    Thank you for remembering the people of Boulder. So many friends have lost so much. A fire of love has swept this community (Boulder always reacts with generous care for others – despite what the media say). Care of the displaced still goes on – there is a fundraising lunch at Namaste Solar next week. Of course, my parish has done nothing. It is deeply disturbing.
    Thank you again fro this wonderful place of reflection.

    (By the way: ADHD kids hear every word you say. They can’t help taking in everything. They just have trouble filtering things, processing them and then letting it back out.)

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.

Twenty-sixth Sunday – Ordinary Time Cycle C

25 September 2010
Comments (15)

Reflecting on Luke 16:19-31

As I read this story today about starving Lazarus and well-fed Dives, I stop and look out our window.  Rows and rows of luscious greens, bursting with cucumbers and tomatoes and green beans, fill our backyard.  How, I wonder for the millionth time, could Lazarus have ever been hungry?

We lost our clothesline to the cucumbers.

Two years ago we gave our prickly, neglected backyard into the care of an urban gardening co-op called Farmyard. Then we sat back and watched these talented, hard-working young people turn our little yard into the Garden of Eden.  This is the season when God must love to say, “See what I can do?  The earth is mine, and all the fullness thereof” (Ps. 24:1).

I confess that until two years ago I never noticed where food came from.  And now, one hundred people are eating from the riches of the long-neglected soil just outside our window!  But, since God is so unbelievably generous, why are there still hungry people all over the globe?  For that matter, why was Lazarus hungry in the very same city where Dives was over-fed?  Maybe one answer is found inside the Gospel, where Dives, the former rich man who is now in torment, still thinks of Lazarus as his inferior, one whom God should command down to his netherland to cool his burning tongue with water.  Ha!  We can imagine Lazarus’ response: “Not ‘til hell freezes over.”

The seeds of entitlement, class distinction, geographic advantage are buried right there in the story, waiting for us to notice them and be converted once again to the new heaven and earth that the God of the harvest demands.

Sharing God’s Word at Home:

In what ways are you partnering with God to feed the world?


What would YOU like to say about this question, or today’s readings, or any of the columns from the past year? The sacred conversations are setting a Pentecost fire! Register here today and join the conversation.

I have come to light a fire on the earth; how I wish it were already burning (Lk.12:49).

15 Comments to “Twenty-sixth Sunday – Ordinary Time Cycle C”

  1. brebis galeuseSeptember 25, 2010 at 10:23 pm

    Should we talk about food for the bodies or food for the souls?

  2. frogSeptember 27, 2010 at 3:49 am

    really like this story

  3. Steve GivensSeptember 27, 2010 at 3:55 am

    A beautiful reflection on abundance and need…I never can fathom how so many people can go to sleep hungry every night while others (including me) enjoy an abundance of every good thing. WE can never forget our Christian duty to care for those who have less…

  4. waitinginjoyfulhopeSeptember 27, 2010 at 4:23 am

    The last sentence of today’s gospel was the clincher for me. Jesus, knowing full well he would die and rise from the dead, also knows that there will still be those who won’t get it even after he rises from the dead. It’s as though wealth can blind us to the blatant needs of others we trip over every day and know by name, as did the rich man but it can also blind us to the power of the resurrection.

    I know in my own life how easy it is to become complacent. It keep my distance, stay busy, uninvolved, write a check and move on all the while telling myself I’m ok even good/great. How often today’s world tell’s us we are ok, everything is great

  5. CrisSeptember 27, 2010 at 2:34 pm

    Three thoughts: 1.) Fr. Mo West in his homily mentioned how the Rich Man was not an evil man, corrupt, immoral, etc. He was guilty of “insensitivity” – – Imagine how our eternal life might be determined by insensitivities.
    2.) The Rich Man’s plea: Not to convince his brothers that there is an after life. The plea is to convince them of the unbreakable link between helping the needy and one’s after life.
    3.) I go serve in the homeless shelter once a month to help feed 500 people not so much “to do this act of charity” but to remind myself that there but for the grace of God go I. I am one pay check away from being homeless. I am one catastropic tragedy away from being homeless. There but for the grace of God… – – – Cris

  6. brebis galeuseSeptember 27, 2010 at 3:48 pm

    That’s an excellent point, Cris. I like Fr. Mo’s take on our insensitivity, too. It is an example of our taking blessings for granted, isn’t it?

    I’d like to go back a few weeks to my question about whether God can be seen as a punishing God. This morning’s reading from the Book of Job struck me as a good example of how our own interpretation can put the responsibility for bad things on God.

    Job 1:6-22 — God and Satan make a deal in which Satan is ALLOWED by God to temp Job into denouncing God. God’s only restriction on Satan is that he is not allowed to “lay a hand upon his person.”

    In the end, though, after being told of all the bad events and losses caused by Satan, Job makes the following statement: “Naked I came forth from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I go back again. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord!” For giving or for taking away?

    Job is the one who gives the responsibility to God for all the calamities he has suffered. Then, he immediately praises God. How do we explain this dichotomy?

  7. SharonSeptember 27, 2010 at 9:39 pm

    It is so very easy to ignore the poor. One thing that helps me is that I have made http://www.thehungersite.com the home page of my internet connection. There, at no cost, with one click I can donate a cup of rice to the hungry. It’s not much, but it adds up over the year and reminds me every day that there are hungry people who need help.

  8. ChrisSeptember 28, 2010 at 4:42 am

    Why did the rich man perish? Because he did not follow the one commandment our Lord gave us, “love one another”.

    To love one another, we mush love ourselves, and we must love God. Thereby fulfulling the first two and greatest commandments of the Old Testament.

  9. brebis galeuseSeptember 28, 2010 at 3:03 pm

    Lazarus starved while the rich man was well fed . . . in this life.

    The rich man starved while Lazarus was well fed . . . in the next.

    Who had the better portion?

  10. mikeandbetsySeptember 29, 2010 at 4:09 pm

    Donating bags of food from time to time, and not even using my discards, but good stuff from Cosco, etc. when there is an opportunity. There are food drives for fire victims, for example, or at the OUR Center, or Christmastime special collections, etc.
    It doesn’t seem to be enough, in fact, it’s all too convenient, and doesn’t really address my own excesses. I could learn what it truly means to share.
    I heard a homily once explaining that we don’t have to go hungry because there are hungry people, or become poor because they are poor, but (there was a pause, then his voice and facial expression became quite serious, as he emphasized this line: “We DO NEED to SHARE what we have.”) I took it to mean not the way I do it, which I consider “charity”. Why am I beng so cynical? I do take time, sometimes a whole half day or more, gathering and organizing things to give, driving there and leaving the stuff. Why be cynical about what I and others do contribute? I think it’s because it’s not enough for what I want to do for people living under conditions of depravation and disaster. This “charity” as I call it, is too separate from the people all over the world that I read about, hear about and ARE AFFECTED BY, that call out to me, FOR A DAY, OR MAYBE A WEEK OR SO, AT A TIME.
    Well, at least I hear them calling later again. But I say in the back of my mind, someday, when my life gets organized, and the ones nearer and dearer don’t need so much from me, I’ll do more. But do they really need so much? Or can we all share?

  11. leehemmingerSeptember 29, 2010 at 6:24 pm

    I guess my mind is an enigma…since reading this question and Kathy’s story about the garden on Saturday, I’ve been thinking about water. Less than 3% of the earth’s water supply is usable by humans, and a large proportion (69%) of that supply is used for agriculture. 80% of disease in 2/3 of the world is related to poor drinking water and sanitation, and 1/3 of the world’s households go out of their homes, walking as much as a mile, to acquire this water due to lack of infrastructure. Yet, here our consumption is so great in comparison, that one flush of the toilet uses as much water as developing countries use for a whole days drinking, cooking, washing and cleaning. So, I was so focused on the excessive consumption of this country that I just thought about our selfishness. Being environmentally conscious, using less water, working to prevent contamination of the water supply that is shrinking, donating to Catholic Relief Services to help with establishing infrastructure for water supplies in other countries was foremost in my mind.
    As President of Council for Catholic Women – AD Denver, I see many women invested in doing the little things, together, that will hopefully bring some relief to those in need. So, just each day doing a little thing that helps; a bag of food to church, cooking and serving for various food lines, buying a meal for someone on the streets, and giving up a bit of the consumption is all any of us can do. And hopefully, in the process, spreading the awareness and the love across the universe. No one individual can turn it around, but with all of us together we have a chance.
    Sorry for the wordy response!

  12. adminkSeptember 30, 2010 at 5:35 am

    What wonderful, informative contributions this week. Thank you, everybody. Does anyone want to engage Brebis’ question that she posed about Job?

    I hear from many people who haven’t contributed yet how much they enjoy the conversation that takes place here.

    Thank you!

    Kathy

  13. leehemmingerSeptember 30, 2010 at 3:39 pm

    Sometimes my mind takes off in its own direction, and I seem to have no control over what it produces, so I offer apologies for the previous post. But,speaking to Brebis’ question about Job, I can say that my own family is struggling with some of this right now. My 34 year old niece was given 3-6 months to live as a result of metastatic malignant melanoma this past week. She has a husband and three children, has lived a loving, consciencous and responsibile life as wife and mother, daughter, granddaughter, sister, aunt, niece and friend. To add to the mess, her brother died a year and a half ago. These are the only two children my sister had. So, my daughter questioned me last night about how we can believe in God’s love and mercy when something so totally unexplainable and unacceptable happens to a good person. Her question centered around “if God has a plan for us all, why do these things become part of the plan.” As I struggle with my own grief, the words to help her seem not to penetrate: that God doesn’t have a blueprint for each of us; only a plan that we will be happy and have fullness and abundance in our life. What that abundance may be isn’t always monetary; perhaps it’s that she has lived a life filled with love from her friends and family, has accomplished her dream of having children, and has loved them unconditionally. Why these ugly cancer interlopers change the course of life for some at a young age is beyond comprehension. But, a physician who advised her that all the original tumor was removed, and that there was no need for follow up made a mistake. The human aspect of this life brings awful suffering, but the only way one could possibly blame God for this is to lay the blame on his decision that humans would be flawed and imperfect. Also, that we have free will, and sometimes make faulty decisions leading to tragedy. But, like Job, all we have is our faith in God’s love and mercy. Certainly, like Job, we question things which have no answers, we struggle with the consequences of an imperfect life, and ask God to give us strength to bear it all. So, we THANK God for giving us Renay, with her quirky humor, her strength and compassion, her great love for her family. I am looking for direction on how to thank him for TAKING her away. She has suffered so many losses in her short life, perhaps it is that her struggles and pain will be ended when her life ends. But, I’m like everyone else: it’s going to take time to work through it and come to some reasonable acceptance.

  14. JgfelsOctober 1, 2010 at 1:58 am

    Awesome; I love you two! If that garden isn’t a holy representation of Mary’s nurturing care, then I don’t know what is. Perhaps in her infinite wisdom and abundant love the Virgin Mary appears to us today in the form of “mother earth.” What a beautiful apparition to behold!

    I think our community will have to borrow some of your urban farmers though. In collaboration with several of Colorado’s food banks and inner city youth programs, we have been attempting to grow an abundance of fruit and veg. to benefit families/individuals who find themselves living in “food deserts.” As rates of obesity and Type II diabetes rapidly grow among the poor, it seems only right that everyone (regardless of income) should have equal access to healthy food. This is our first year making full use of our hydroponics system and, suffice it say, it is still in need of a bit of fine tuning: calling all worms…. 😉

  15. adminkOctober 1, 2010 at 5:46 pm

    Hi everybody,

    Just a note of thanks, again, for the great contributions this week. This column hit a record number of readers and contributors this week. That Lazarus and the Rich Man story always hits its mark, doesn’t it?

    And Lee, our hearts break with yours. What a tragic, tragic event in the life of your family. Your niece sounds so dear. Let’s all keep her at the top of our prayer lists in the coming months, and her husband and children and extended family too.

    Peace and grace, and belated Happy Feast Day yesterday to St. Jerome, the crochety scribe who loved the Scriptures, and so do we.

    Kathy

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.

Twenty-fifth Sunday – Ordinary Time Cycle C

18 September 2010
Comments (11)

Reflecting on Luke 16:1-13

Hi everybody.  It’s me, Jesus.  Sorry about that parable today.  I know, all of you who own your own businesses want to know why it’s okay for that steward to cheat his boss like that.  Here’s the thing: if you had lived in the Middle East in the First Century you would have laughed and applauded my brilliance when I spoke that parable.

The Shrewd Stewart Art - work of Kazakhstan Artist, Nelly Bube

My prophet Amos had it so right.   I love that part where he called out those vendors and merchants for the religious hypocrites they were.  Sure!  Hurry up and get these religious observances over so we can start cheating the poor and trampling on the needy.  See, that’s what I was getting at in my story all those years later.  It takes a lot of energy and cunning to steal and exploit people.  (These days I’m especially thinking about the murderous drug cartels in my beautiful, Catholic Mexico.  And all the drug abusers north of the border who keep them in business.)

See, the steward was stealing from his master, and when he knew he was getting fired he used the same cunning to start making friends with the very people he’d been cheating for years.  Think how much hard work it took for them to pay the master in all that olive oil and wheat, and he was taking a huge chunk off the top!  So he canceled out his huge commission, which made their debts so much less.  It was like he knew he was on a sinking ship and he decided to give all his stuff away to the guys manning the lifeboats.  Now that’s smart!

So, the moral is: make friends with the poor, the beloved of my Father.  Look at me.  I was so poor I was buried in a tomb that belonged to somebody else.  No problem.  I knew I wouldn’t be staying long.  And you’re not long for the grave either, every one of you who loves me and recognizes me, as Mother Teresa said, in my distressing disguise of the poor.

Of course she’s here.  Where else would she be?  You should have seen all her friends up here opening those gates when they heard she was coming. Happy 100th birthday, Blessed Teresa of Calcutta.

Sharing God’s Word at Home:

What energies are you harnessing to do good?

What would YOU like to say about this question, or today’s readings, or any of the columns from the past year? The sacred conversations are setting a Pentecost fire! Register here today and join the conversation.

I have come to light a fire on the earth; how I wish it were already burning (Lk.12:49).

11 Comments to “Twenty-fifth Sunday – Ordinary Time Cycle C”

  1. adminkSeptember 20, 2010 at 8:17 pm

    Hey, is anybody out there? Did you not like the column, or just didn’t like the Gospel this Sunday enough to remark on it?

    Becky is having problems logging on, but she sent this funny and deep insight:

    See, it is true the steward was dishonest, but so were the people he was dealing with. No one said “Oh well, no thanks, that’s wrong” or even reported it to the master. But our master needs no report, He knows us and try as we may we can’t pull a fast one on Him. Love you, Becky

  2. DonnaSeptember 21, 2010 at 2:43 am

    When I think about this Gospel, I remember that Jesus told many parables to get peoples attention. Make friends with the poor, what a concept! Even today how many times do we walk by without a look, do we think that if we don’t make eye contact with the beggar we can forget that he’s there?
    Maybe I don’t want to think about hunger or homelessness, so if I don’t recognize their presence I don’t have to think about these scary things.
    I’ve been told by many good people, “don’t give him money, he’ll just go drink it”.
    How many blessings has my Lord given to me and does he say, “I am giving you this Donna, only if you do what I want you to”. No, he gives to me unconditionally, he loves me in my sinfulness and in my brokenness!
    The poor have much to teach us, if only we show them dignity
    and they almost always respond “God Bless you”.
    God Bless you!

  3. MichaelCarlosSeptember 21, 2010 at 4:43 pm

    Didn’t like you column? Perish the thought!

    This parable has always been a challenge for me, and I’ve never felt like I had a handle on the message. It seems to reward self-interest more than anything else, or so I always thought. But after reading several of the commentaries from the links on your site and then re-reading your reflection, I finally have a better feeling about it. His actions actually brought some relief to the debtors, the poor he had been exploiting. Make friends with the poor, as you said. And Donna, what a sensitive commentary you wrote.

    Maybe some of my resistance to this gospel is tied to my inability to answer unequivocally Kathy’s question about what I’m doing to harness my energies to do good. Maybe too many of my efforts are focused on my own good, on my wants. Thank you for the reminder to direct my energies to doing good to those who cross my path each day, and those who fall beneath my notice.

  4. leehemmingerSeptember 21, 2010 at 5:33 pm

    I, along with Michael, find this parable challenging. It seems the steward is considered prudent in his actions to save his hide in the future, rather than focusing on doing good for the needy. While his actions did have the consequence of providing some relief to the debtors, they were cunning and calculating in nature. Maybe it’s Jesus’ way of telling us that no matter how much we cheat him of our loyalty, we will be forgiven even if our retribution is provoked merely by self interest. Gosh, if the steward had only acknowledged some sorrow and regret for the pain caused to the poor in the past I would have found the parable to have a better message. Answering the question was equally difficult as then I had to contemplate the measure of my energy these days! Does it count that I stopped to pick up a dog in the middle of the road, found him to still be alive, and despite my fatigue drove him to an emergency clinic, waiting around to be sure he would survive?

  5. brebis galeuseSeptember 21, 2010 at 10:22 pm

    I had a difficult time with the question, “What energies are you harnessing to do good?” I cannot couch my response in positive terms. I tried to turn it around, but I found that I wasn’t able to see it from a different perspective.

    Whenever I harness my limited energy to do good, people take advantage of me by expecting more than I am able to give. When I explain that my energy is limited by chronic illness (a fact of which most of them are well aware), they get angry as if I am rejecting them.

    We live in an extremely self-absorbed society, where other people look at us in terms of what we can do for them, with no consideration of what they might do for others. Takers are abundant. Givers are abused. No matter how well we model generosity, there are people who are just waiting in the wings to take rather than give. In order to do good for others, we must guard against abuses of our generosity.

  6. brebis galeuseSeptember 21, 2010 at 10:24 pm

    P.S. And isn’t that a shame?

  7. leehemmingerSeptember 22, 2010 at 1:21 am

    Yes, Brebis, it is. But, all we can give is what we have. No more, no less. And, that is enough in the eyes of our loving God. Blessings.

  8. mamidecincoSeptember 22, 2010 at 6:01 am

    When I read this Gospel, I tend to focus on the fact that the Steward had a choice. He could have chosen to continue to charge his “surcharge” for the debtors. But instead he chose to be “trustworthy” and as a result made friends with the debtors. He had a conversion of sorts, even if it was motivated by the fact that he would soon be fired and needed some friends. I am always left wondering what becomes of this steward. Do the debtors take him in and befriend him? Do they now see him as trustworthy? Does his conversion experience in this portion of his life have further reaching effects?

    Like Michael Carlos, I struggle to answer the question Kathy poses. What energies am I harnessing? Even though at times, I feel that my energy is set on “low”, I think of Christ and how tired he must have been trying to set aside time to go apart to pray and yet when the crowds followed him, he ministered to them. So, I feel that regardless of my own take on my energy level, I should be doing more because that’s what our Lord did. That’s what Blessed Mother Theresa did too…emptied herself in service to others. My answer then is, “I’m getting there one baby step at a time, striving always to give more” I pray that my efforts will be pleasing to God.

  9. DonnaSeptember 22, 2010 at 2:59 pm

    This subject has turned into great Conversations!
    To Brebis, I would like to say like leehemminger,it’s true there are people out there who take advantage of “the givers” of the world. Jesus told us this would happen, and we can only do what we can do.
    This Gospel also teaches us to be prudent. Live simplier lives dependent on fewer material things.
    The energies I am harnessing? I am trying to teach those who are searching for God in their lives. I have had such great teachers in my life (Kathy, Ben).
    Like Mamidecinco wonderfully stated, “one baby step at a time”
    God Bless

  10. MichaelCarlosSeptember 23, 2010 at 4:13 pm

    I couldn’t let Lee’s question go unanswered. Yes, it absolutely counts! It’s our time and energy that is most limited and precious, and sacrificing them for any of God’s creatures instead of our own comfort is doing good!

  11. adminkSeptember 23, 2010 at 8:39 pm

    What thoughtful and brave submissions this week. You know, I am lucky enough to actually know all the contributors this week. I am struck with the irony of the anxieties expressed here about possibly not harnessing enough energy for good. Why is it that God’s great ambassadors are always the ones who feel unworthy, and are always on the lookout for more ways to do good?

    I am inspired and challenged by each of you. Thank you for your contributions.

    Kathy

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.

Twenty-fourth Sunday – Ordinary Time Cycle C

11 September 2010
Comments (6)

Reflecting on Luke 15:1-32

Even though we live in a religious country with a strong religious heritage, the very core of religious faith―that a loving God actually exists and actually longs for communion with us―seems to elude us.

Return of the Prodigal Son (Rembrandt) c.1669

And so we’ve come around again to the great Lukan parables of the lost coin, the lost sheep, and the lost son.  (This only happens in Year C, where we heard the story on the Fourth Sunday of Lent and again today.)  What will it take for us to really hear that the Hound of Heaven will chase us through the alleyways of our lives in order to catch us and look us in the eye and say, for the millionth time, but didn’t you know that everything I have is yours?

So let’s let Francis Thompson, tortured opium addict and believer in God’s mercy, remind us once again:

I fled Him, down the nights and down the days; I fled Him, down the arches of the years;

I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways of my own mind; and in the midst of tears I hid from Him….

I wonder.  Do you suppose that Lost Sheep was watching in the canyons to see if the shepherd would really leave everything to find her?  How delicious that must have felt, to hear him calling for her, and hear the relief in his voice when she stepped from her hiding place and he wrapped her up in his arms and carried her home.

Hey, do you know someone who’s ready to be found?  It’s not easy to step out of the dark canyon.  It takes a lot of humility to admit that we are loved that much.

Sharing God’s Word at Home

Do you recall a time of being “found”?

What would YOU like to say about this question, or today’s readings, or any of the columns from the past year? The sacred conversations are setting a Pentecost fire! Register here today and join the conversation.

I have come to light a fire on the earth; how I wish it were already burning (Lk.12:49).

6 Comments to “Twenty-fourth Sunday – Ordinary Time Cycle C”

  1. brebis galeuseSeptember 12, 2010 at 4:14 pm

    As a convert, I felt unqualified to train my son when he was ready to receive his First Communion. His father (a lifelong Catholic) wasn’t interested in being involved. I went to the Director of Religious Education at our parish to discuss the situation. When I told her that I was grossly unqualified to help Curt, she said, “I will put you down to teach first grade.” I thought she was nuts, but I agreed.

    Once the CCE classes started, she told me that catechists had to be certified by the Archdiocese of Denver. I didn’t even know what “catechist” meant! I agreed to give it a try. Can you say “Holy Spirit?”

    So, as I attended the classes every week and learned about the faith, I was astounded at the knowledge I gained and the insights into Catholicism and spirituality. Our DRE Mary Zebley was the one who truly converted me to the Catholic faith. I was lost and just going through the motions when she found me and brought me to an understanding of the motions I was simply going through. I will always be grateful to her for “finding” me.

  2. leehemmingerSeptember 12, 2010 at 6:05 pm

    One summer when I was about eleven or twelve, after my grandparents divorced, I was living with my mom and step-dad in Arizona. For some reason, I went from neighbor to neighbor, going to church with different ones,no matter what denomination, seeking SOMETHING. We moved into a trailer court in Tucson, where I met a wonderful family, Bill and Nan Murray and their older children, Tom and Kitty. Nan was pretty much bed-ridden with heart problems, but she was always covered with a beautiful afghan and had a bright smile and a deep faith. Each night, the family gathered around her and recited the rosary, and they invited me to join them. Then, Bill asked me if I would like to attend church with them the next day. Boy, did I!!
    Walking into that Church of the Sacred Heart that Sunday felt like I had arrived “home”. Each Sunday after that I was ready and attended mass with Bill, Tom and Kitty. Bill would sit beside me, and whisper in my ear as the mass progressed, letting me know what was happening and what was expected of me.
    At the end of the summer, Bill approached my parents and told them that he and Nan would like to pay my tuition to Sacred Heart School if they would consent. Thus, my only two years of Catholic education, in 7th and 8th grade.
    Truly, the Murray family “found” me in my wandering and led me to the faith that has sustained me for the rest of my life. To this day, there are times during the mass that I can actually hear that whisper in my ear, and offer a prayer of thanks for the blessings of this generous and faith-filled family.

  3. CrisSeptember 14, 2010 at 1:56 am

    Dear brevis and leehemminger,
    I am scheduled to give a parish mission in Virginia, and one of the topics I’ll be reflecting on with the parishioners is conversion.
    The two stories each of you shared convinced me that the phenomenom of conversion is not excluively tied up to dramatic moments, ala St Paul of Tarsus.
    Thank you for pointing to the ordinary kindness of people as God’s vehicle of conversion.
    Please pray for me presentation— Cris

  4. DonnaSeptember 14, 2010 at 2:53 am

    Your stories have touched my heart, thank you for sharing!
    that is the beautiful part of this website, the sharing.
    Many years ago I left my hometown, my 7 year old daughter and I (she is now 38) so it was a long time ago! My marriage was over, try as I did, I couldn’t fix it. This was a desert period in my life, I felt like such a failure.
    I stopped going to mass, I stopped praying. One day a sister went to my daughters elementary school and asked if anyone in that class wanted to receive their first Communion. Of course she raised her little hand. The classes were going to be held in a community center after school. She started attending. One day she told me, “Sister said we should go to mass and sit up front so that I can see what’s going on”. I said ok, I guess we can do that. I didn’t know where any churches were in Denver, but I found Holy Ghost parish.
    Well, the Holy Spirit had other plans than just having that little girl learn about mass. Slowly, I began to feel the healing love of God in my heart. I came back into the arms of my Lord, who had never left my side…it was I who left Him! The rest is history so they say. I have come a long way!
    Cris, I am praying for you and your presentation!
    Thank you all!
    Donna

  5. mikeandbetsySeptember 14, 2010 at 9:17 pm

    I was found by Sister Guadalupe, my first grade teacher. I was afraid of her on the first day. I was 5 1/2 and she was the first nun I had ever seen; with the full starched habit and all. I screamed and acted out. I had to be taken home, and was even more afraid to go to school the next day. But she treated me with gentle kindness; a few moments in her presence took all fear away. She showed me about Jesus, not so much in words, but in that loving presence. I had fears, and she found me, to hold me until they went away.
    A priest asked a question to a group of parents of which I was a part, later on, when I had a young son. Fr. Jim asked, have you shown your children the ROOTS of what it means to be Catholic, that is, have you SHOWN them some of who Jesus is? When Kathy asked “Do you recall a time of being found?” I remembered Sister Guadalupe, and Fr. Jim’s counsel when I was a single parent also was something I thought of.
    In the three parables of Sunday’s Gospel, the shepherd with the lost sheep and the woman who lost the coin were persistent seekers of the one they lost. Yet the father only waited for his son, or else grieved, thinking he was never coming back. Was it because the son asked for his share of the inheritance (kingdom), and the father knew that his son had thought at that time that the father had nothing more to give him? Did the father know better, but was forced to wait? Because he knew the son thought he had all he needed…I wonder if we make God just wait for us, not be a seeker of us but a grieving waiting father, because we think we have all we need, in the material world we live in. And we forget about Him, draining our spiritual resources in a “life of dissipation”. I hope I always remember the person who showed me about Jesus, because I still need to be shown now, as much as I needed it at 5 1/2.

  6. adminkSeptember 14, 2010 at 11:00 pm

    Claudia, I have NEVER thought of this before. I LOVE this, and am going to steal it from you the next time the Prodigal Son story comes up (which won’t be for 3 years, but I’ll remember).

    Did everybody see this? The son stayed away so long because he didn’t think his father had anything more for him, other than the sliver of inheritance he had received (since the Older Son would have received the much larger sum). Doesn’t that sound EXACTLY like every twenty-and thirty-and forty-something former Catholic we all know: the Church gave me what I needed, I am now an ethical person who knows right from wrong, the Church has nothing more for me. Don’t bug me about it anymore.

    Hmm. Maybe JESUS has something more, always, always something more…

    Thanks for the beautiful, rich sharings this week, everybody.

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.

Twenty-third Sunday – Ordinary Time Cycle C

4 September 2010
Comments (15)

Reflecting on Luke 14:25-33

Okay, did Jesus really say we have to hate everybody we love in order to be his disciple?  Isn’t that completely out of character with everything we know about him?

Paul writing to Philemon about his slave Onesimus

First, the better translation for “hate” is “to love less than”.  Am I willing to love my own life less than I love being wrapped in the mystery and grace and healing love of Jesus?  Oh yeah.  Because it’s a win-win.  When I yield to the stronger-than-death love of Christ I find my life all over again, hidden and made richer through my day-by-day encounter with his Spirit.  How could I ever love my life if it were apart from him?

But look out.  A life in Christ means the status quo is out the window.  For example, the tribal codes of honor and shame that kept sons and daughters in perpetual debt to their parents were dismantled by Jesus’ invitation to follow him instead.  In that fascinating second reading today Paul reminded the Christian slaveholder Philemon that his slave Onesimus had been baptized, and was now his brother in Christ.  Wow!

So, loving Jesus more than we love slavery, family ties that welcome no stranger, religious restrictions that keep us forever bound up in guilt and unworthiness?  You bet.   That’s the liberating message of this difficult Gospel today. The disciple of Jesus hates everything that keeps a grudge going, a door closed, and a social status in place that, when the ship is going down, keeps some down in steerage while the rest of us get the lifeboats.

So I get it now.  That message is completely in character with everything we know about Jesus.

Sharing God’s Word at Home

Is there something you need to “love less than” in order to have a deeper faith life?

What would YOU like to say about this question, or today’s readings, or any of the columns from the past year? The sacred conversations are setting a Pentecost fire! Register here today and join the conversation.

I have come to light a fire on the earth; how I wish it were already burning (Lk.12:49).

15 Comments to “Twenty-third Sunday – Ordinary Time Cycle C”

  1. susanigomezSeptember 4, 2010 at 3:25 am

    Thanks Kathy, for such a meaningful commentary on this Gospel. I have always been uncomfortable with Jesus’ comment about hate. That is such a violent word, even by itself. I recently spent a retreat day reflecting on the Good Samaritan Gospel and came to the conclusion that hating our sisters and brothers would be hating Jesus too, since Jesus lives in each person. So, I know Jesus doesn’t want us to hate anybody. Jesus said a lot of things that need reflection and discernment. Peace! Sue

  2. brebis galeuseSeptember 4, 2010 at 9:35 pm

    I like your explanation of “hate” as “love less than,” but I think keeping priorities might be easier to understand. Making as a priority love for Jesus and doing God’s will doesn’t result in loving others less, it makes us love them more in the Trinity, because we first loved Jesus. When Jesus is the priority, we cannot fail to fulfill the two great commandments he left us.

  3. leehemmingerSeptember 5, 2010 at 1:56 pm

    I by the fact that your invitation at the end of the column, “Let’s get talking, Church” used a capital “C”. Over the past few years my own struggle has been that living the Gospels hasn’t always been congruent with that image. It is more often in the small “c” church where I find the inclusive and accepting love of Christ, among the people. In order to live in that reality, I sometimes find it’s necessary for me to love the Church “less than” Jesus. Brebis, it is just those two great commandments that urge me on, and it seems that if we are striving to fulfill THEM the first ten become second nature, (as much as that’s humanly possible).

  4. leehemmingerSeptember 5, 2010 at 1:58 pm

    correct the first sentence to start out “I was struck” – it apparently got lost in the submission!

  5. brebis galeuseSeptember 5, 2010 at 11:14 pm

    I have a question for this discussion group. This morning, Father said that his parents were angry when he decided to enter the seminary. They were previously not Church-goers. He said, “Jesus caused them great pain from my decision.” He also related that his parents have come back to Church and are very active.

    I have a problem with anyone who ascribes causality of pain or bad events to God. In the struggles of my life, I have come to believe that God is with us through pain that comes from life, and that God gives us grace to handle the problems of life, but I’ve never believed in a God who causes pain for us.

    Is God-given pain bad theology?

  6. leehemmingerSeptember 6, 2010 at 12:51 am

    I missed Father’s homily today, but having had similar conversations with him about this sort of thing, I don’t think he meant to imply God causes us pain. His words may have been poorly placed or something, but my take on it would be that maybe his parents felt Jesus had caused them pain. I do know that when someone says “It was God’s will” in time of pain and loss, Fr. Pat has always said that God does not will children to die or other painful events to happen. I can’t speak for him, but just what I know about him makes me certain that his theology doesn’t include God-given pain. Maybe it would be helpful to Email him and ask him to clarify for you. I agree with your theology that God is with us through the pain that life brings.

  7. leehemmingerSeptember 6, 2010 at 1:26 am

    However, this event wasn’t meant to be a painful one…It was joyous and grace-filled and Ft. Pat became God’s instrument to move his parents back to Him. So, I’m not sure that it fits into the same category as the pain that comes from living. If his parents had chosen not to hear God’s call, or to just love Fr. Pat and accept his choice, and chose to feel pain over Fr. Pat’s vocation, then to me it seems that would have been the result of their choice, not God’s. Does that make sense?

  8. adminkSeptember 6, 2010 at 4:58 am

    Oh boy, this is funny. I need to jump in here for a second. Lots of the readers of this site are hearing great preaching on Sundays from Fr. Pat at MPB, and that preaching often finds its way onto the site via parishioners.

    But “brebis galeus” is not an MPB parishioner, and the Father she was referencing is her own pastor, not Fr. Pat! I think Fr. Pat would think it’s hilarious that this conversation took place about him, based on a homily given by a completely different priest.

    So, delete the previous two comments and have a laugh. But a good question has been asked and probably should be talked about here: is God-given pain bad theology???

  9. brebis galeuseSeptember 6, 2010 at 12:41 pm

    Kathy,

    Thanks for clarifying that. I’ve actually heard this type of statement from many priests over the years. “God will do anything to get your attention.” Some of them followed up with examples, “take your health,” “take your children,” etc. I’ve always rejected this theology and thought, “Why would I want to believe in a God who works that way?”

    Likewise, people who believe that piety is a facial (usually sad sack) expression have it wrong in my view. We won’t be attracting many converts to the faith, if we look so miserable and believe that God is waiting to zap us.

    When my little sister died, my parents told us that the “angels came and took her away.” For two toddlers, ages 2 and 3, this was scary, and my older brother and I tiptoed around corners checking for angels before we would proceed. Then, when my first son died at the age of four months, people told me it was God’s will.

    It took me years to sort out a theology that doesn’t include a pain-giving God who wills babies to die and angels who take babies away.

  10. leehemmingerSeptember 6, 2010 at 1:34 pm

    Thanks Kathy! I tried to delete the comments, but don’t seem to be smart enough to do so. Anyway, to the question; well meaning friends, families, etc. often use that phrase “It was God’s will” to offer some comfort, and I’m not sure they realize the implications it may have for our perspective on God. I’m really sorry for your loss, brebis galeus. That must have been a terrible time in your life, and to think that God had willed it would stretch ones abililty to accept that God is the loving God we believe in.

  11. CrisSeptember 6, 2010 at 2:54 pm

    Thanks, Brevis for sharing that story about angels taking kids back to God – – this helps me in my catechetical work to assist catechist with pious images that may be acceptable to adults but inappropriate for children.

    I think that the problem of evil, usually reduced by theologians to God’s permissive will (as opposed to God’s proactive will)is utterly inadequate when placed in the context of an all merciful, all loving God. For if he is indeed all loving, why permit such an occurence? [Mr Spock would agree at this point with his iron clad syllogism.]

    So where does this take us. Some traces of answers I found from other people involved basically throwing oneself in the lap of God and getting lost in that mystery while God gently caress them. – – – Cris

  12. clm1127September 6, 2010 at 6:14 pm

    A friend once told me “If God takes you to it, he will take you THROUGH it.” To me, that is a visual explanation of faith. Even though I falter, I know that God is there with me, and that my suffering (perceived or real) is part of His great plan. And so he is walking the road with us, to get us through the fire, or the parted sea, or whatever else we are enduring, and ending up with an understanding either in this life or the next. Another friend reminds me that our home on earth is only a temporary dwelling place. And by following Jesus even if we have to turn from our family, friends on possessions on earth, we will end up in a much better place for eternity!

  13. Steve GivensSeptember 8, 2010 at 8:19 pm

    This is a clear, gentle explanation of one of the toughest scriptural lessons we ever hear or read. I’m always glad that I haven’t taken a non-believer to mass on the day the reading is used! But if you were there to explain it…

    Steve
    http://www.givenscreative.com

  14. adminkSeptember 8, 2010 at 8:49 pm

    Hi everybody. Please welcome Steve Givens (above) to the site. Steve, we are honored that you have joined us and look forward to any contributions from you in the future. Steve is the author of THE most beautiful book on life with cancer. Embraced by God: Facing Chemotherapy with Faith is by far the most insightful and rich book out there on the subject of living through chemotherapy.

    Steve writes a stunningly beautiful blog on spirituality,
    http://www.givenscreative.com. I recently met Steve at a composers’ conference in Nashville. His music is coming out in the premiere new hymnal, The St. Augustine Hymnal.

  15. BobbieSeptember 10, 2010 at 1:47 am

    Kathy, I am so glad that you helped clarify that “hate stuff.” I think that people could go wild with a misunderstanding of what hate means. And it seems to be happening all the time as an excuse for exclusivity. It’s easy to say I love Jesus but hate those people who live down the block, who are different because of gender, age, social status, race, sexual orientation, religion. It’s easy to say the gospel tells me I’m supposed to hate, so why should I reconcile, forgive or ask forgiveness? Whoa… What a gross misinterpretation that would be, a self-centered manipulation of God’s word to keep us from seeing others with their God-given dignity! How then could we say that we love God when we know that Jesus was about embracing not excluding people, no matter who they were?
    The question about loving less so that I can grow in faith really hits home. I need to love less selfishly and more selflessly. If I reached out to Jesus more, I would be letting go of the things that I grasp so tightly, be they ideas, things, or people. And then, when it comes to looking at others as if they were unlovable, these are the ones I have to love more, because this is what God is doing. Perhaps what I have to do most of all is love with the heart of Jesus. Prayer leads me to say: “Help me love You, choose You and give myself to You. Be with me as I embrace those who need to know that they are loved.”

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.

Twenty-second Sunday – Ordinary Time Cycle C

29 August 2010
Comments (19)

Reflecting on Luke 14:1,7-14

Several summers ago I was recovering from surgery on my vocal cords and couldn’t speak for a week.  I was out walking one very hot Sunday afternoon and began to panic because I had run out of water and was still a mile from home.  One of the churches on the corner of a busy intersection was having a “Getting to know you” picnic on their grounds as an outreach to all those speeding by.  Ah, thank you, God.  Here I can get a refill for my water bottle and make it home.

The last shall be first

There were lots of warm, friendly congregants out on the front lawn, pouring lemonade and passing out cookies and information about times of their services.  Because I couldn’t speak, I smiled and indicated my empty water bottle.  All these years later, I’m still hurt by the detached indifference I experienced.  The smiling hospitality members took a few steps back and walked away.  No one would make eye contact with me.  I was, I guess, the odd, sweaty interloper who wasn’t speaking and kept pointing to her water bottle.  For some reason that made me scary, or at least not the person they were hoping their picnic would attract.

But I’m a SOMEBODY!  I’m a SINGER!  I’m just TEMPORARILY DISABLED! I’ll be at the top of my game again in a DAY OR TWO!

And you know what?  That day never came.

How glad I am now for that tiny peek into the world of those who come into our churches without resumes, without connections, but with a sliver of hope that someone will notice them and reach out.  The “last” are actually SOMEBODIES, as those of us who have been “first” a lot will surely one day find out.

Sharing God’s Word at Home

What experiences of “first” and “last” have shaped your life?

What would YOU like to say about this question, or today’s readings, or any of the columns from the past year? The sacred conversations are setting a Pentecost fire! Register here today and join the conversation.

I have come to light a fire on the earth; how I wish it were already burning (Lk.12:49).

19 Comments to “Twenty-second Sunday – Ordinary Time Cycle C”

  1. brebis galeuseAugust 30, 2010 at 12:50 pm

    I was always last in my family. Financial resources and emotional support went to my older brother first, and whatever was left seemed to mostly dissipate before it got to me. After years of therapy, and the realization that I’m not dead last with God, the impact of being last still affects my life. I always expect to be last and disrespected, so my perspective is looking for that slight. I have to consciously remind myself that my family was dysfunctional, and the “last” status was not about me. It’s hard at times to make that connection prior to reacting to a perceived slight, but I’m getting better at it. Yesterday morning, Father started his homily by asking, “Who’s the best person here?” I didn’t automatically think it was for certain somebody else! That’s progress.

  2. dcherryAugust 30, 2010 at 3:49 pm

    It is so hard to accept how God strips us of things that we have claimed as our identity, like Kathy losing her beautiful voice, her identity as a singer. As I’m getting older (wait a minute, how can I be 60 years old…that’s my mother’s age) and as a consequence am losing some of my physical abilities (or anticipating losing some of them as my older friends have), and soon my identity as a high school counselor as I move into retirement from that job and on to other activities the Lord is moving me toward, I try to remember it’s all part of the plan to move me closer to God, more dependent on Her, and ready to join the throng of adorants(if that’s a word and if not, it’s a good one) populating Heaven. And part of the process is to realize we are all ok, no one is better than the other despite what we may have been led to believe by our family or life’s circumstances. We are all the face of God, to quote someone! As one of my students reminded me, “What doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger”.

  3. leehemmingerAugust 30, 2010 at 6:36 pm

    I was the first born in my family. My parents divorced by my first birthday, and each remarried, having children with their new spouses. I still remained the first born, the eldest, with the most expectations to “set an example for your younger sisters/brothers.” But, living with my grandparents for most of the first 9 years really designated me as “last”. As much as I loved my sisters and brothers, my place was never fully recognized in either family. It was as though I just didn’t fit in, and seen as an outsider. I got married at 15, because I want to “belong” someplace and be “first” in some relationship. That was the first of many mistakes made in my search for a place to belong. The golden thread that came out of the whole situation was that I grew up with a passion for justice and became a champion of the underdog; and, I always had this innate sense that I belonged to God. As I begin my 80th decade, I am grateful for the gift of compassion and acceptance this life experience brought.

  4. leehemmingerAugust 30, 2010 at 6:42 pm

    as an addendum, let me say that the weeds that come with this experience is that I continue to feel like an outsider in many situations. Even though I have many wonderful, thoughtful and faithful friends, and belong to multiple communities, that sense of not “fitting in” often lifts its head in my consciousness. I feel as though I march to the beat of a different drummer, but have come to accept that as a good thing most of the time.

  5. leehemmingerAugust 30, 2010 at 6:52 pm

    You seemed to open the vault with this one, Kathy. It feels like I could just let the words flow endlessly. The unfamiliar knot in my throat and the sense of vulnerability lets me know that a chord was struck. No matter how much work one does on “issues” a remnant seems to always remain that flares up once in awhile. Thank you for this forum.

  6. mamidecincoAugust 30, 2010 at 11:57 pm

    The first time I really “got” this teaching…the last shall be first was when we traveled to Guatemala. While in Antigua we visited the church of San Francisco where Saint Hermano Pedro is buried/interned.

    Here we saw the “last” of a very poor society, the poorest of the poor…hundreds of “lasts” approaching the church on their knees, smiling, hopeful, FAITH-FILLED. They had so very little materially, but so very much spiritually. The contrast between them and me was stark and it became crystal clear to me in that moment how the last in our society, those whom we completely overlook and ignore, will be the first in the Kingdom of Heaven.

    ~Kim

  7. ChrisAugust 31, 2010 at 2:06 am

    Possibly, we might ask ourselves, “how can I be last in my community?” Jesus teaches us the value of humility in this week’s reading. Fr. Tim this past Sunday made 2 thought provoking points that I would like to share with all of you.

    1) Humility is not something we strive to be good at. If we intentionally go to the wedding feast seeking the lowest seat with the thought that we’ll hopefully get moved up, then, we’ve missed the point.
    Humility must become part of our nature, not our intentions.

    2) Jesus commanded us to “Love one another”. But how does one do that? Fr. Tim said, “Humility is the basis for love of others.” And it hit me like a ton of bricks, that he is so right. If we are able to make humility part of our nature, putting others ahead of ourselves, then how can we not love them?

    True humility may not come easily. But I will pray for the Peace and Grace of God to help me find it. For it is only with God that I will.

  8. eileenAugust 31, 2010 at 2:11 am

    I am not sure which would be better——-to be in the accepted group and then move to the outsider group or the other way around. My experience is of the first type. It is a very hurtful time to know you somehow don’t belong. However, it opens ones eyes to those around you, the ones you never saw before and for whom my heart now aches. It is good to be “opened up”. You see after 63 years I now accept my self as a lesbian.

  9. CrisAugust 31, 2010 at 3:15 am

    Thank you leehemminger and brevis for sharing your stories. You heal all of us by doing that. – – Cris

  10. JgfelsAugust 31, 2010 at 6:51 am

    What a poignant reminder that holiness is defined by who we include as opposed to who we exclude. Do we let spiritual materialism harden us or by connecting with our own woundedness can we begin to humbly realize that “self” and “other” are not actually different? Can we begin to train without bias and learn to communicate from the heart essence? If we lack empathy for another perhaps it is because we are afraid of confronting our own brokenness. It is in letting go of appearances that we connect with suffering and can begin to reflect upon the countless beings who are feeling exactly what we are feeling at this very moment. The experience is different, but the pain is the same. What people really need is for others not to distance themselves from them. Are we willing to risk such openness of vulnerability? It will likely force us to examine our perspective. Maybe when we view the banquet from the eyes of wakefulness we will see that there are no seats of greater or lesser honor. There is only a table: come and eat….

    Many thanks to those individuals who have responded to Kathy’s message with just such vulnerability. You are our compassion warriors!

  11. DonnaAugust 31, 2010 at 4:41 pm

    The responses this week have really touched me and most importantly made me think. Thank you all for sharing!
    I grew up with a mother that I could never please, no matter what I did it was never good enough. As an adult I realized (after years of hurt) that some where in her life she was wounded. I went into nursing trying to take care of
    people, I went into a marriage feeling not good enough to be loved by a man who didn’t even love himself, because he was alcohol addicted. I felt like such a failure!
    Then like a miracle the realization that My God loves me more than I can imagine, and loves me unconditionally…He was always there, waiting for me to invite him into my life, and he gave me his mother too! Thank you Jesus!
    Thank you Kathy for this website and for being such a great teacher,and everyone for sharing your intermost thoughts!

  12. eileenAugust 31, 2010 at 5:43 pm

    I can’t stop thinking of the song by Joan Collins in which she says “I’ve looked at life from both sides now”.

  13. adminkAugust 31, 2010 at 9:02 pm

    Wow. What can I say to this outpouring of friendship and community that we are building here? The purity and depth of painful, prayerful, faith-filled, intimate sharing on this site is more than I had dreamed.

    I read every word and hold each one close, as I know all the contributors to the conversation do as well. Thanks for listening and holding each other up.

    I’m always struck at how many people whom one would assume have always been “first” perceive themselves as “last”. Maybe that will be a surprise too, when we are “bathed in the crush of intimacy” (Fr. Pat’s words, again,)in heaven, and realize that we held on to our feelings of being “last” so long on earth because taking the leap to pull away from that safe place of pain was too much work.

    But the writers here grabbed on to faith and found a safe place, even in the face of lifelong struggle. Now that’s true strength and true humility.

    God bless every one of you who have shared part of that journey.

    Kathy

  14. ClaudiaSeptember 1, 2010 at 1:13 am

    I’ve read every response and I am so humbled and touched by the honesty that flows from feelings to written words. Kathy, I am so taken aback by your personal loss. Having heard you speak and watched your body language…the glow
    that never leaves your face; the tenderness that exudes from your smile…one would never think that such disappointment had touched your life.

    I am in a continuous wrestling match with myself. So many “good” days; and, so many days filled with self-talk;
    attempts to keep myself encouraged and believing that I’ll be okay. Parents are powerful. They know us before we truly know and understand ourselves. They truly are armed with the power of love or the weapons of self-doubt which can be flung at our fragile, developing selves. Two things have finally begun to unravel inside of my mind…leaving me with such a sense of inner happiness. I have gone into deep smit over the most wonderful author…Rosamunde Pilcher. She’s now in her 80’s and “retired” from writing in 2000. I can become so immersed in her words. I am living inside the world that she’s writing about. I leave her books; sad to have finished, eager for the next one and
    bursting with insight. To my point…in one of her books;
    a father’s 12 year old daughter has died. He grieves for months. The upcoming Christmas holiday brings visitors into his home…one a 14 year old girl. They become friends. She is asking him about his daughter. Heavy on paraphrasing here….”We used to sit at the piano and play together; I helped her with her school work.” The girl asks if his daughter played the piano well…”no..not really.” She pursues if she was good with her studies…
    “no,not really.” She asks..”tell me what she was good at doing” and he replies…”LIVING”. This has made all the difference in my thinking. I have wasted so much time being afraid, holding back when I want to simply be living and experiencing my life. Secondly, I realize that I haven’t “hit” that magical plateau that I was supposed to be at by this time in my life. Supposed to be mature; understand life; be filled with wisdom; and be a sage to others! I find that I am still a mix of parts! Much like a puzzle. Last night, at choir practice, we sang for two hours…glorious, beautiful music. I went across the street to Poppies and sat with fellow choir members…now my friends. I drank a beer. I laughed and talked and listened. On the way home, I listened to Sly and the Family Stone sing SUMMER DAYS…cicadas singing their own song of summer. Wind rustling trees…trees still laden with leaves and sweet smells. Here I am…69 in November…
    mother, grandmother, friend,church member, still working full time….feeling “those summer days” and permission, AT LAST, to FEEL alive; to be ME!

    Blessings and love.

  15. BobbieSeptember 2, 2010 at 10:04 pm

    At 5’9”, I’m taller than many women I know. As a child attending Catholic school, I was frequently last in line because we stood smallest to tallest. Regardless of whether or not I could make out the writing on the blackboard, I was assigned the last seat in a row of desks so that I would not block the view of other students. There was something about “not blocking other people’s view” that seems to linger in my head even now. I tend to stand behind people when watching a parade march by. What happens is people taller than I am find a way in front. Then guess what. Someone is blocking my view. I automatically go to the back of a group picture so that I don’t cover anyone’s face. This usually means I’m in an awkward position and an even more awkward pose. As I write this, I’m asking myself why I’ve allowed this labeling as a child to become the way I behave today. In truth, my height is something I cannot control.
    Since I’m far from athletic, during high school gym class I found out what it means to have a team “stuck with me.” Usually one of the opposing team captains sighed loudly before choosing me or another teenage girl. So sometimes I was next to last, which didn’t make me feel much better. I realize I’ve developed an “I should be last” attitude. I tend to wait for other people to take their seat, then sit wherever there’s an empty space. When meetings break up into smaller groups for chit chat, I often find myself left out. It takes so much energy to “break into” one of those pairs or threesomes. Then I ask myself if I’m not interesting enough to be part of the conversation. Perhaps I’m not good enough for them to be with me.
    Being last comes out as not being worthy, loveable or good enough. How sad is that?
    When it comes to ice breaking and introductions, I usually make the first move. Though it takes a lot of courage, it keeps me from feeling rejected, even if the conversation is short lived. The first step is something I can control. In a group setting, if someone asks a question about something I know, I am first to offer an answer. I take pride in my knowledge, and as I grow older, my wisdom, so I feel free to share it. (Notice, I keep showing up on this website.) The place I most allow myself to be first is in church. I sit right up front, not quite the first row, but in the second. Before Jesus, I just know that he invites me to come up closer because with him I am worthy, loveable and enough. Ad it doesn’t seem to matter whose view I block.

  16. brebis galeuseSeptember 2, 2010 at 10:35 pm

    Claudia wrote, “Kathy, I am so taken aback by your personal loss. Having heard you speak and watched your body language…the glow that never leaves your face; the tenderness that exudes from your smile…one would never think that such disappointment had touched your life.”

    I am absolutely convinced that Kathy smiles in her sleep!

  17. brebis galeuseSeptember 2, 2010 at 10:43 pm

    Oh, yeah, something else that struck me on Sunday morning as Father gave his homily on humility. The Magnificat — Mary’s proclamation that from now on “all will call me blessed.” She knew who she was in God’s sight. Humility is not feeling bad about oneself, or thinking we are less than others, as we were so often taught. True humility is simply knowing who we are in God’s sight. It’s accepting the gifts and talents that God has given us and using them to further the kingdom here on earth.

  18. MichaelCarlosSeptember 3, 2010 at 1:27 am

    First, of course, I have to say again how humbling it is to read all your reflections. What courage you show in revealing your vulnerability and affirming one another with compassion and such wisdom. 

    The single most important experience that shaped me on this question occurred at the Mile Hi Religious Education Congress many years ago (is that what it was called, and has it also disappeared?). I don’t remember what the workshop topic was, but I remember an impassioned and Spirit-filled presenter talking about liturgical ministry. There was a particular segment in which she talked about how we identify people suited for the various ministries. She used the analogy of a family dinner, and I’m sure I’m paraphrasing like crazy, but she said something like: “Everyone is good at something. YOU can cook; YOU can set the table; YOU can lead the prayer; YOU can do SOMETHING. And without all these contributions, there cannot be a dinner to share.” 

    This articulation of her approach crystallized what I experienced every Sunday in the parish where she was the liturgist and music director. That presenter, you won’t be surprised to learn, was Kathy McGovern, who made everyone in that parish feel like she or he was first, not least the socially inept young man who assisted her each week, and who is so grateful to her to this day for seeing something in me then and knowing how much I wanted to participate, to belong. 

    That lesson stayed with me during my sojourn in the religious life and later as I had the good fortune to manage employees in two very different industries. There’s no better feeling than showing another person that you really SEE him or her, affirming the special gift she/he brings to whatever enterprise you are sharing.  

  19. TeresaSeptember 4, 2010 at 5:52 am

    I’m so touched by the desperation you must have felt that day Kathy. I cannot fathom the impact your loss still must have today. You rise above it like no one I can imagine, but just the thought of it is painful to me.

    It’s crazy when I’m part of a wonderfully accepting community and family that I can still have little moments of fear and dread reminiscent of my adolecence I’ve never quite grown out of. Surely I’m not cool enough, not smart enough, not young enough, not enough, enough, enough. But I am human and Jesus became a part of all our humanity. We are enough. May this give me the confidence and faith to love and act with justice and grace.

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.

Twenty-first Sunday – Ordinary Time Cycle C

21 August 2010
Comments (16)

Reflecting on Luke 13:22-30

It turns out that the question of who gets into heaven and who doesn’t gets settled on the bus.  Well, not just any bus.  It’s that primordial bus that C.S. Lewis creates for us in his masterpiece, The Great Divorce. There we see ourselves as the fearful, suspicious, whiny, gossipy passengers who have boarded the bus between heaven and hell.  And guess what?  We can’t get into heaven because we won’t get off the bus.

And why should we?   We can see from our stuffy, boarded-up windows that SHE made it in, and we CERTAINLY aren’t interested in getting out if they let HER in, for heaven’s sake.  We’ll just sit right here, thank you just the same.

The grass in heaven is so strong it’s like walking on sharp knives when you’ve been such a cheat and such a fake your whole life that you’ve never built up any real integrity to give you strength.   And who can stand up to the rain in heaven?  It’s like getting hit with bullets when you’ve spent your whole life dodging responsibilities, or the outstretched hands of those who are poor.

But watch!  There are angels to help us step off the bus and take those first courageous steps towards humility, and forgiveness, and healing from addictions, and reunions with family members we’ve cheated or ignored or abused.  All it takes is the grace to give God permission to make us fit for heaven.

Lord, will only a few be saved? Perhaps the better question is Lord, will only a few WANT to be saved? Because heaven isn’t for sissies.  But heaven IS for those grateful souls who, in fear and trembling, take God’s hand and step off the bus.

Sharing God’s Word at Home

What are you working on changing so that you’ll be comfortable in heaven?

What would YOU like to say about this question, or today’s readings, or any of the columns from the past year? The sacred conversations are setting a Pentecost fire! Register here today and join the conversation.

I have come to light a fire on the earth; how I wish it were already burning (Lk.12:49).

16 Comments to “Twenty-first Sunday – Ordinary Time Cycle C”

  1. gamaAugust 22, 2010 at 1:43 am

    I have just order the book by CS Lewis on my kindle. I keep thinking about my mother talking in her last days here on earth and dreaming about a train coming to pick her up and seeing a young child waving in the window. Anyway so much for the rambling I will read the book and re-reply. Thanks for the info.

  2. brebis galeuseAugust 22, 2010 at 6:04 pm

    I had a discussion with our late pastor five years ago about who is going to heaven and who is not. He told me to let that be decided by God, because of John 3:16, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.” End of conversation, right? Nope. John 3:18, “Whoever believes in him will not be condemned, but whoever does not believe has already been condemned, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God.” They condemn themselves.

    So, do you have to stand up publicly and denounce Jesus? Probably not. Do we accomplish that by our actions? A single action wouldn’t define us, but could a pattern that shows that we don’t truly believe condemn us?

  3. DonnaAugust 23, 2010 at 4:53 pm

    Wow! great question…what am I working on changing? A great Jesuit, Peter Favre said, “take care, take care never to shut your heart against anyone”. I think about this often. Jesus says to love those who persecute us. Love those who hate us? I pray for grace to see God in all creation. This is what I struggle with… what I am working on changing.
    Can I step off that bus? Only by the grace of God!

  4. brebis galeuseAugust 23, 2010 at 5:56 pm

    “Take care never to shut your heart against anyone.” I am going to print this out and carry it with me all the time. I think it’s one of those things that’s so easy — until you are in the presence of another. Thanks for sharing this, Donna.

  5. mamidecincoAugust 23, 2010 at 10:42 pm

    Oh to pass through the narrow gate….there is so much I could let go of and change!! To truly live humbly, I most need to remove my sense of pride. Like Mary in her Magnificat in the past week’s reading, to turn all praise to God for what he accomplishes and to truly accept and realize that I can at most be a vessel of his mercy and grace.

    I really think emptying myself (of pride, self interest, worry, etc..) in order to be filled with the Spirit, is a challenge. If one can accomplish that and live in true humility, then shutting your heart wouldn’t be an option, nor would staying on that bus.

    ~Kim

  6. KarenAugust 24, 2010 at 1:33 am

    Oh my goodness Kathy! So many contradictory thoughts and ideas run through my head (and heart) when I contemplate this question… I love the work of Fr. Richard Rohr and Fr. Ronald Rohlheiser and I think both would challenge us with the notion that ALL of God’s beloved children will be in heaven ~ ALL of us! I remember hearing Richard Rohr say, “we are all totally worthy and totally unworthy” as the beloved children of God. There is no “earning” any of the grace freely given by our loving Creator. And so, we all show up together, with all of our baggage, afraid to get off of the bus. God doesn’t keep us there, we keep ourselves there.

    As so many of your readers have shared, the learning and the work and the soul searching comes in letting go. It is in the surrendering of our fear and our pride and our neediness that allows us to get off the bus. Giving-in to truly knowing that we are nothing without the grace of God is what allows us to “pass through the narrow gate” or to “pass through the eye of the needle” or to “fall into the arms of our loving God.” We just are not very good at doing that, or I should say that “I am not very good at doing that!”

    And Kathy, one more thought about heaven… I know God as a loving parent, who I think probably looks at me and wonders why I so often choose the difficult path in my life, sometimes like I look at my own children, thinking “they could have picked an easier road but might have missed the lesson.” As a human parent, I cannot imagine ever damning my child to a life of pain or suffering or heartache for “choosing wrong.” God loves better, bigger and more fully than I can begin to comprehend! And so, how could our loving Creator ever damn one single beloved child to eternal suffering, no matter how horrendously sinful one’s life might have been (or is right now)? I just can’t believe that our God is capable of “not loving,” ever, in any circumstance…

    This is by no means an easy understanding of “heaven” and “hell” but rather an incongruency with which I continue to struggle. It seems that our “heavens” and our “hells” begin right here, right now, and sometimes we’re closer to one than the other, depending on our choices and our ability to surrender…

  7. clm1127August 25, 2010 at 1:45 am

    That is an awesome visual…a bus from heaven to hell. And if you choose the wrong stop….watch out!! It shows how fickle we humans can be! Is “the bus” Purgatory?

  8. CrisAugust 25, 2010 at 2:04 pm

    “The narrow gate/eye of the needle” vs.”the publicans, prostitutes, sinners will enter the kingdom first before the legalistic sanctimonious go thorugh” – – – a paradoxic thought to ponder….. – – Cris

  9. mamidecincoAugust 25, 2010 at 7:45 pm

    Cris, I like the paradox you propose because it make me think for a bit.

    In reflecting, I don’t see it necessarily as a true paradox. For me, the narrow gate means you have to be willing to let go of that which is holding you back, keeping you from heaven. I think sinners, protitutes, etc.. might find that more doable than the sanctimonious.
    ~Kim

  10. ChrisAugust 27, 2010 at 4:26 am

    Karen,

    I would say the issue has little to do with “God not loving” us. But instead, us not believing or loving him. As brebis galeuse quoted John 3:18 above, we condem ourselves.

    I will _always_ love my two sons. But that does not mean that they could choose a way of life (violence, crime, hate, …) that could keep us from being able to live together. I pray to God that it never happens.

    Chris

  11. mikeandbetsyAugust 29, 2010 at 6:25 pm

    Kathy, this is to me so far your best reflection. The words that have stuck with me the most, and I hope they will for a long time, talk about having enough integrity to build up the strength for heaven. Also the question of having the ability to withstand the rain of heaven, when you’ve been dodging responsibilities on earth. Those are reminders for each moment of the day, as well as core things to consider when making big decisions. I haven’t read “The Great Divorce”, but I will now. I need to realize more fully the importance of each day, that it means so much eternally, that God has given us the time to prepare for the real thing, and saints everywhere, like CS Lewis and Kathy to give us clues about how to go about it. I pray that I remember to make every decision, big and small, for God.

  12. leehemmingerAugust 29, 2010 at 6:59 pm

    Father Pat began my thought process on this issue so long ago, when he asked in a sermon “are you ready to share heaven with Hitler?” As humans we have such difficulty forgiving others for their crimes (sins) against society. I pray daily for the love and humility to look forward to seeing Hitler and others, ie: Timothy McVeigh. Also, the wisdom to realize that it will be my reassurance of God’s unconditional love and mercy. I keep at it! A lifetime of teaching on the other end of the spectrum continues to add that small nagging fear, but it keeps getting better.

  13. ClaudiaAugust 29, 2010 at 7:33 pm

    Better late than never!! “Our/my” Father Pat, of MPB in Denver, had a homily that I believe will stay with me forever!! In talking about how “we” can look at one another and make such judgments as “that person will never be in heaven.” His little sardonic laugh and assurance that every toot-head, whom I most disdain, will be rubbing elbows with me! BUT, the crux of what he said, that has given me my own “come to Jesus meeting” is…”think about this…Heaven with YOU and no one else. You will get to spend eternity with YOU!” Thinking that I’m a fairly decent, kind person; my thoughts went immmediately to my many weaknesses and the bits of my personality that can sometimes bite me like a tiny wasp sting! Me and me in Heaven…for all eternity. SO MANY things to work on!! So
    little time! The idea kinda takes the uppity right out of me!!

  14. leehemmingerAugust 31, 2010 at 1:19 am

    I searched for this, and found my notes from a retreat last year:
    Religion – for people who believe in Hell.

    Spirituality – for those who have been there.

    Heaven “is neither an abstraction not a physical place in the clouds, but a living, personal relationship with the Holy Trinity. It is our meeting with the Father which takes place in the risen Christ through the communion of the Holy Spirit,” Pope John Paul II, 21 July 1999.

    So, I continue to ask, if Heaven, and Hell,is not a place, but rather a state of being of a spirit or human soul, is it possible for one to experience both Heaven and Hell here on Earth? Believing in God’s infinite love and mercy, it’s hard for me to comprehend that eternal damnation is possible even for those who have committed heinous acts. As we enter into the purification state of being and God continues to call us home, I would like to believe that all of His creation will ultimately be re-united with Him. Naive? Possibly, but a comfortable place to be.

  15. BobbieSeptember 2, 2010 at 10:05 pm

    When I was a child, I rode the bus more often than I do now. I can remember the stop-go experience of a city bus, with people getting on or off. Exact change dropped into a glass coin-meter made it less time consuming to get on. Sometimes the bus was empty and there was a lot of room. Other times the bus was crowded or even over crowded with people’s knees bumping or with backsides squeezing an extra person onto the seat. Every once in a while, someone stood to let an elderly person, a pregnant woman or one with a couple kiddies sit down. Occasionally, people who were lucky enough to sit, held packages on their laps for those who stood hanging on for dear life with their hands wrapped around a pole or in a dangling loop suspended from the roof of the motor coach. It was easy enough to pull the cord and disembark when the bus was not crowded. But when it was, not only did one have to say, “Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me,” while moving through the multitude, but there were times when leaving through the rear exit caused the traveler have to shout to the bus driver, “Open the door again, please,” so as not to miss the stop. People knew their destination and how to get there. They wanted to get where they were going so they followed the rules, put up with some inconveniences and kept moving. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the same applied to everyone on the way to heaven?
    Thanks, Kathy, for the challenging question about what I’m changing so that I might be comfortable in heaven. There seems to be one answer, accepting people for who they are when they don’t live up to my expectations. (Maybe even letting go of expectations…) The cashier who talks to a fellow customer service rep while ringing up my groceries and who doesn’t even seem to notice that I’m standing right there. The person who calls my friends and me “guys” when we are very definitely and visibly women. The woman who has taken a bath in perfume/cologne and causes the entire busload of people to wear her scent when we get off.
    Is it just tolerance or is it bigger than putting up with a person or situation? Is it acceptance? Unconditional positive regard? Love? What I’m working on changing is the way I love God, other people and myself. I’m trying to live that commandment of loving with my whole heart, mind, soul, person, so that I’m not going to miss my chance of getting off the bus because of all those “HE’s and SHE’s.” It means being mindfully conscious of the face of Christ in each of the people that I connect with whether by choice or circumstance. My actions and attitudes are my responsibility. I’m trying to love God because God IS and to accept that God loves me just because it’s what God does—LOVE. So I attempt to regard myself through the eyes of compassion and self-acceptance.
    What you said about giving “God permission to make me fit for heaven,” speaks so clearly to me. It reminds me to cooperate with the grace of the day in the midst of the joy and sorrow, abundance and loss, fullness and emptiness, hurt and forgiveness. Your challenge helps me recognize who I am in the midst of it all and offers a world of possibilities for all that I can be.

  16. MichaelCarlosSeptember 3, 2010 at 1:38 am

    Bobbie, thank you for a beautiful reflection. So much to absorb . . .

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.

« Previous Page — Next Page »