The Ascension of The Lord Have you ever been at a loss for words? Has an experience ever left you speechless? Or has an emotion run so deep words cannot express its meaning? As much as words communicate, so much more is left within the heart. This is one of the key mysteries of life. To this mystery add the revelation of God. Loving Father. Self-giving Son. The power of the Spirit. So much to express. So few words that do God’s revelation justice. Nonetheless, the inner nature of God was revealed in presence and in power. In our Gospel today, Matthew presented the eleven apostles receiving a vision of the Risen Lord and the apostolic command. Freed from death, his presence and word had real power, the power of God. This gospel passage speaks of power: the power of presence and the power of the name. Ancient people placed great weight in presence; the way someone dressed and acted spoke of social power. Ancient people also chose names carefully; they believed a person’s name defined their strength of character. Both outward presence and inward character are part of the disciples’ experience. The disciples saw the Risen Lord and bowed down in worship. With death vanquished, the limitations of life not longer had hold of Jesus. Jesus was all-powerful, an attribute Jews only gave to God himself. And the disciples witnessed this power, even though they had a touch of skepticism . Their experience of his presence caused wonder, both in awe and in incredulity. Jesus came to his followers with a royal decree in three parts. First, he declared the obvious; he had the power of God [18]. Second, he gave his disciples the command to go, to teach, and to baptize in the name of God [19]: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. (Notice their ministry was modeled after Jesus’.) Finally, he insured their success by promising his presence; when they spoke or acted, the disciples did it with the power of God. In 28:19, Jesus reveals the inner power of God in three names. The three are listed together (expressing the unity of God) and as equals (expressing the all-powerful nature of each). When believers are baptized in the name of the Trinity, they become intimate with all that God is: God above them (Father), God beside them (Son), and God within them (Holy Spirit). With God so close to the faithful, they become God’s instruments.[Living Liturgy 2014] The risen Christ revealed more than his changed life. His presence showed his followers the power of the Father: the Spirit. When the followers saw the resurrected Lord and heard his command to evangelize the entire world, they saw for themselves the Trinity in action. When we live as followers of Christ, we invite others to join us not because they see nice people living good lives. No, they, too, see the Trinity in action. For God works through us.
I Will Not Leave You At the Last Supper Jesus told his apostles he would be leaving them to return to the Father. In today’s Gospel, he reassures them and us that we will not be alone. The Holy Spirit was sent to the disciples and is with each of us as a special helper and friend until Jesus returns to us. In the meantime, we continue to show our love for Jesus by following his commandments. When children are orphaned, they often hold on to something to remind them of whose they are. Orphan Annie had a half of a locket, Oliver Twist had a letter, and some victims of the holocaust had smuggled photographs. Even without the physical presence of their parents, orphaned children very much felt connected to their parents. This is the image Jesus gives us in the Gospel as well. He explains that it is the Holy Spirit that is with us and helps us know we are God’s. It is this Spirit that guides us to live the way God wants us to. The Spirit comes to us in a special way at our baptism and guides us, even to our surprise sometimes, and helps us follow the commandments of God. [Living Liturgy 2014] On our own it is impossible either to know God or love God. This is why the gospel is so reassuring when Jesus promises us the Spirit who remains with us and will be in us. If we wish to grow in our love for God, we must first become attentive to the Spirit who dwells within us. We come to see the spirit within us by taking sufficient time to be aware of the Beloved so near us. The Life within us is the love we are to make visible.
He Is The Lord! I am told by the psychologists that people can be grouped as to whether they are thinkers or feelers. According to this typology, developed by Carl Jung and popularized by the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator , thinkers process data and make decisions based on rational thought and are therefore called “head” people. Feelers or “heart” people on the other hand, process information and make decisions based on the congruity of the information with their feelings. So a thinker will walk out of the cinema saying, “That was a great movie, the plot was so clever and cohesive”. The feeler will walk out of a movie and say, “That was such a great movie, I cried and laughed all that way through” Another school of thought suggests that the dominance of brain hemisphere will determine how we respond to the world. Left brain dominant people will favor logic and reason, whilst people whose right brain hemispheres are dominant will come at things from less structured and more intuitive, creative orientations. It would seem that the two disciples dragging themselves home to Emmaus after the trauma of Jesus’ death were trying to think the problem through with their left brains. Granted, they were exhausted with grief. The name of their home town, Emmaus means “warm springs” and I would like to speculate that after the day they had just had all they wanted was a warm soak and a good night’s rest. I sense their tired irritation in the way they respond to the unrecognized stranger who engages with them on the walk home. “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?” The left brained reader will be pleased to know that a walk of seven miles would take about an hour and forty five minutes. Enough time to get into quite a testy discussion with someone who seemed to be obtuse. Jesus, the unrecognized companion, who always begins where we are; responds to their thinking, left brain questions and explains, from the scriptures, all the reasons why the death of Jesus was necessary. After the one hundred and five minute journey is finished, the two travelers invite the stranger home in the way middle-eastern hospitality would demand. It is as they sit down for the evening meal, doing their duty instead of opting for the more selfish soak in the warm springs, that the stranger breaks the bread and is recognized as Jesus himself. The fellow traveler is indeed the companion! (Latin: com panis = bread sharer) In the moment of recognition he also vanishes! Am I the only one who hears the echoes of “Don’t touch me Mary” and “He is not here, he is risen,.. he has gone ahead of them into Galilee”? It seems that one cannot really grasp nor hold onto this risen Lord. One can only glimpse with insight as these warm-spring Emmaus wonderers, bow with reverence like Thomas, “My Lord and my God” , and follow him with the other disciples to the places where he is going ahead of us, like Galilee. The shift in the Emmaus disciples is immediate. From left brain thinking dominance, their feeling function and right brain intuition takes over. These irritable grieving men feel a warm spring rising in their hearts at the recognition of the risen Christ. It is a warmth that with a Pentecostal wind, could become a blaze! You see, we don’t have to open our hearts only on Mother’s day, as significant and important as that day may be. Each encounter with nurturing selfless, bread sharing warmth from another human being, first modelled by our Mothers, can be for the honest pilgrim a moment of resurrection encounter. It may happen anywhere at any time. All it needs is an open heart, an open mind and an open eye. Oh by the way, some grief, irritability and exhaustion could also help!
Fear Not! What happens when we meet a close friend whom we’ve not seen for a long time? We embrace the person warmly. We talk about shared past experiences. We share how our lives have changed. In the midst of this encounter is a deep sense of happiness and peace. Months and perhaps years of separation seem erased as we and our friend encounter each other in the here and now. It’s been only three days since the disciples have seen Jesus alive. But it must seem like an eternity to them. The disciples are gathered behind locked doors. They are afraid. They are confused about what to do. So they stay put. They are stuck. They’ve lost the sense of confidence they had when Jesus was with them. Probably their sense of peace has been shattered as well. On Easter evening, the risen Jesus appears and shows the disciples “his hands and his side.” It is Jesus who makes the first, convincing move to enable the disciples to believe that he has truly risen from the dead. It is he who wants the disciples to see him, to regain their confidence and peace. To this end, he bestows upon them the gift of the Holy Spirit. With this gift, the disciples are able to rejoice, to believe that he is truly risen. But this Jesus is not just an old friend who has been absent for a time. The disciples have never before seen this Jesus. He bears the marks of suffering and death. Yet he is risen, never to die again. He has conquered death. For himself and for all of us. Thomas is a convenient stand-in for all of us as we strive to deepen our belief in the risen Lord. Unlike Thomas, however, we do not literally “see” the risen Lord. Whether we see clearly like the gathered disciples, or only through doubting like Thomas, the risen Jesus is, nevertheless, always present in our midst removing all obstacles to belief. This is also how the risen Lord comes among us: in those in need, in those who reach out in self-giving to help those in need. Going from disbelief to belief is not a mental exercise. It is encountering the risen Lord in the people and circumstances around us. Believing is living faithfully the risen Life Jesus gives us. The challenge of this gospel is that we put aside our own fears and embrace belief, with all its consequences. Just as the risen Jesus was relentless in bringing the disciples from disbelief to belief, so is he with us. He is also just as relentless with us as he was with the disciples in bringing them to the cross. Even after his resurrection, Jesus always challenges us to both dying and rising. Having passed over from our Lenten discipline to Easter rejoicing doesn’t mean that we can forget about the dying required for living the paschal mystery. Now, however, our “seeing” is heightened: we have experienced once again Easter joy, a glimpse and promise of the fullness of Life to come. This glimpse of the fullness of Life gives us the confidence to believe, to live the Life given us now, to embrace the risen Jesus.
The Empty Tomb Anyone who has ever been to a burial service in a cemetery knows how gaping the six-foot hollow in the earth is. If we peer into the empty space, it seems to go down forever. It is deep, foreboding, not just a little bit frightening. We are much more comfortable when the casket is lowered, the earth has been replaced and cultivated and planted, and living green grassreplaces the gaping hollow. Death and tombs have a finality about them. No doubt so Mary, Peter and John believed as they raced to the place where the lifeless Jesus had been laid. They simply did not yet understand. They sought a lifeless body and found an empty tomb. They queried about “where” and discovered “what”. They simply did not yet understand. They simply did not understand that he had to rise from the dead. Our belief in the Resurrection must begin with the empty tomb. It is the empty tomb that brings us to raise the question about where they put Jesus’ lifeless body. It is the empty tomb that sends us searching for what we thought was lifeless. It is the empty tomb that brings us to belief: Jesus is alive, he is risen. Only as the risen Lord comes to us does our own belief in the meaning of the empty tomb continually grow. Easter faith is never still. Jesus’ risen presence can be found where we least expect it – in the gentle smile, in the unexpected extension of a helping hand, in the goodness and generosity of oyr family and neighbors and friends. And even perfect strangers. Easter teaches us that we must give ourselves over for others in total love. This is the paschal mystery. Easter faith is never still. The risen Lord is always active. In our Easter faith. In our acts of love.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem For most of us, Holy Week unfolds like many other weeks: work, school, preparing meals, doing laundry. Palm Sunday begins an unusual week – a week – concentrated in a few days on the ultimate meaning of our lives. We are invited this week to reflect on these questions: Why are we here? What have we been called to do? What are we willing to die for? We have journeyed from Ash Wednesday to this day. This week, we will experience the last hours of the life of Jesus. We must slow down and make choices so that this week does not go by without our taking time to enter into its meaning. In our Gospel today, even in the midst of great suffering, Jesus extends his compassion to others, so total, that he willingly empties himself to the point of death. As we enter this week, let us pray that our self-emptying for the good of others will be so total. We celebrate in the liturgies of this week what we live every day – all the dying to self that characterizes our faithful discipleship. The triumph of this week is in doing our tasks with joy, being kind to those around us [even those cranky folks], meeting setbacks as paths to learning. Then, with Jesus, we can commend ourselves into God’s hands.
I Believe The belief is still prevalent today that bad things happen to people because they deserved it; that some people’s lives are blighted by troubles but it is because of their sin, because of their wrong doing. People still say, “I must have done something really bad for this to have happened to me.” “Why is God punishing me, am I so bad?” Yet we all know very well that calamities and disasters are no respecter of persons, these things happen to all, to the bad and the good, to the rich and to the poor alike. The sun not only shines on the righteous, but on the unrighteous too. The rain falls on all. Are the many people around the world who die daily from natural disasters any worse a person than any other. Was anyone we know personally, cut down by cancer, a stroke or a heart attack, any worse a person than anybody else? In our Gospel, Jesus is quite adamant about this. “No,” Says Jesus, “His blindness has nothing to do with his sins or his parent’s sins.” And Jesus in effect goes on to say that God uses these bad things to show his glory, “He is blind so that God’s power might be seen at work in him.” And notice Jesus doesn’t try to answer the problem of the suffering of the innocent, for there is no easy answer. Jesus re-creates the blind man into a seeing disciple and believer. We, too, are called to be disciples who re-create others and bring them to stalwart belief in the One who brings the gift of healing salvation. As God’s creation, we are never finished. Jesus works in us to bring completion and fullness of light and life.
Thirsting A thread running through all today’s lessons is the affirmation of God’s loving care to those who respond to him. God’s covenant love continues despite all our human attempts to thwart it, domesticate it, attempt to control it. During our Lenten pilgrimage we reflect on our responsibility for being agents of frustration rather than channels of love. An important symbol of God’s grace, as we shall see from our texts is that of water, with the reminder that water is essential for sustaining human life, and that the real Water of Life is given by Jesus of Nazareth. This well-known incident in the Gospels comprises three scenes. Jesus’ dialogues with a Samaritan woman. Jesus’ dialogues with the disciples. The Samaritan woman encounters Jesus and confesses that He is the saviour of the world. A Samaritan woman came to draw water. Jesus said to her “Give me a drink” A lonely, isolated woman, shunned by her community, comes to draw water at the hottest time of day. A woman with a broken self-image, who has deep feelings of guilt, of worthlessness – who really feels and lives the rejection of her people – comes to draw water when no-else is around. Normally a communal exercise, a time when stories are told, experiences shared, help sought and given, the drawing of water for this woman has become a lonely experience, an expression of her isolation and rejection. She has had five husbands – the absolute maximum permitted in Samaritan law at that time. Thus the man she is living with now, is not and could not be her husband. She has placed herself outside the norm and customs of the community – and so she lives a lonely existence, shunned and scorned by her community. Jesus, tired, perhaps frustrated by the constant bickering of the disciples and their inability to understand, is drained, drawn and dry. Out of his need he asks – Give me a drink. The shock for the woman must have been palpable. A Jew asking a Samaritan for a drink from a member of a people regarded as the enemy. A man asking a strange woman to relieve his thirst. A conversation is struck up. In receiving water from this Samaritan woman, Jesus gives her life – a life of fullness of esteem, of relationship with God. Water gives life… Jesus came to quench our thirst for presence and acceptance. Our thirst is satisfied when we surrender ourselves to the living waters of God’s word and live with Christ at the very center of our being.p;
What Truly Matters? Worrywart? Fussbudget? [Titles my friends have bestowed upon me !] Incessantly they talk about what might happen, whether they made the right decision, what to have for supper, how much to exercise! Incessant worriers place themselves at the center of their universe. Everything tends to be about them in one way or another. They serve only themselves in their small world. No wonder people find them unpleasant! This Sunday’s gospel mentions worry four times and anxiety once! And Jesus is clear: Do Not worry! Telling us not to worry is like telling us not to be the center of our own lives. And that is exactly the point! If we choose ourselves, put ourselves first, we worry. If we choose God, the center of our lives shifts from ourselves to God then to others. Worrying draws us into ourselves, caring for others draws us out of ourselves. If we choose God, we will feed on God’s generosity, be clothed in God’s gift of Life and be made rich in faith. This choice is sufficient not only for a day, but for a whole lifetime, even for eternity. We need to hear Jesus’ admonition “do not worry” and choose not ourselves, but God. Choosing God as the center of our life increases our Life. Most of us don’t consciously choose ourselves as our master; we are subtle about it. The measure is our worrying. Obsessive worrying about things, future plans, success, security is a clue we have chosen ourselves as master. It is a clue we need to chose the most compassionate, most generous, Master: God. Jesus assures us that trust in God and reliance on God’s care are fruits of choosing God as master. The choice is ours.
You Have Heard He would give someone the shirt off his back. She would go the extra mile for anyone. They are off-the-wall generous. We often hear stories of people who give of themselves way beyond expectation, who help another at personal expense, who spend holidays feeding the hungry. We have so many ways of saying and doing this gospel. Although we all know people who are takers rather than givers, who are stingy and selfish, who are minimalists when it comes to relating to others, our first impulse is to believe in the goodness and generosity of people. Although we don’t always do what Jesus says in this gospel—turn from retaliation, give more than is asked, love beyond what is easy—we do have a sense that what Jesus is asking of us is how we would want the community in which we live to be characterized. In our treatment of one another—even those who are our enemies—Jesus (as Moses in the first reading) challenges us to go beyond what is expected, beyond what we might think is reasonable or even achievable. We are to go beyond what is human to what is divine: “Be holy” as God is holy (first reading), “be perfect” as God is perfect (gospel). On our own, this is impossible! Only because of God’s love for us expressed in the life of Jesus who teaches us rightly, is this possible. Only when we experience God’s love for us first, is this possible. Jesus commands us to keep the law in a radically different way. We are duty-bound as “children of [the] heavenly Father” to do more than simply what is mandated. We are to go beyond our natural expectation about keeping laws to embrace the divine excess with which God treats us. Acting toward others as God acts toward us transforms us to “be perfect” as God. This radical living of the law makes divine blessings, grace, and holiness to be real, visible, and at hand for us. Acting toward others as God acts toward us takes quite a bit of readjusting in our thinking and doing. We must squelch our first impulses to strike out with hand and word. Rather than negatively judging another who doesn’t do as we think he or she should, we must look beyond our narrow perception of things and give the other the benefit of the doubt. However, just as with the early disciples,this readjustment does not happen overnight, nor does it happen automatically. “Well, that will have to do for now.” How often in daily tasks isn’t this our cry? We have only a little bit of time to clean the house, so what we do will just have to do. We must write a sympathy card and can’t seem to find the right words for a young widow with children, and so we do our best and say that will just have to do. A “that will just have to do” attitude is hardly the way of living to which this gospel challenges us! On the other hand, the gospel examples seem way out of proportion to our ordinary responses, and to the ordinary demands daily living places upon us. Jesus is not asking us, however, to go looking for folks without coats (although there are plenty in our neighborhoods and cities), or for those who need us to go the extra mile for them (there are plenty who need such help), or to give our money away willy-nilly. What Jesus is asking us to do is look upon every other person, whether friend or foe, family member or stranger, as the beloved of God. Acting in this manner is being holy and perfect as God, and is done not in dramatic ways but in simple everyday gestures of love, respect, and care for others.
Teacher Of The Law In 1994, a previously unpublished document from the Dead Sea Scrolls saw the light of day. The Halakhic Scroll (4QMMT) discussed many points of the Law, including the purity of liquid streams, a rather esoteric subject, to say the least. However, this scroll forced many Christian scholars to reassess their view of Palestinian culture in the time of Jesus. Up to this point, that view was informed by Josephus, the Jewish historian to the Roman world in the first century AD. Josephus described Jewish life before the fall of Jerusalem in terms the Greco-Roman culture could understand. But, the minutia found in this Scroll and how that minutia divided the Essences from the Pharisees and the Sadducees forced many scholars to see different schools of thought in Palestine, not in the philosophic terms Josephus presented, but in terms of how the Torah was applied to everyday life. This shift to Torah application (Halakhic study) marked a new page in Gospel studies. The early Jesus movement (especially seen in Matthew’s gospel) marked their differences from Pharisee and Sadducee not only in a devotion to Jesus from Nazareth, but also in how the Law was applied to the community. Jesus was not only Lord and Savior, he was also the Teacher of the Law. In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus exclaimed he came to fulfill the Law and the Prophets. As the note above stated, such fulfillment could be seen as either an example or as a scribe/interpreter. In the context of 5:19, Jesus meant both. He was the primary example of a moral life AND he was the primary teacher of the Law. He expected the leadership of the Christian community to follow in his footsteps as examples and teachers of the Law. The example-teacher who fulfilled the Law and the Prophets was part of the cultural landscape in the time of Jesus. The Dead Sea Scrolls identified a “Teacher of Righteousness,” one who would give the populace a true interpretation of the Law, as opposed to the “Wicked Priest” who directed illegitimate Temple worship. Much ink has been spilt over the identity of this figure, with much dispute among modern scholars over its identity. All we need to note is: 1) the notion of this figure who existed outside the ruling elite in Jerusalem (i.e., not a Sadducee) and 2) an alternate interpretation of the Law that had legitimacy (i.e, not from the Pharisees). It does not take a stretch of the imagination to see the early Jewish-Christian community assume Jesus stood in the cultural shadow of this “Teacher of Righteousness.” As this Teacher figure, Jesus would be the touchstone for interpretation the Christian community would follow. Those who were faithful to his interpretation would be “great in the Kingdom,” while those who gave a loose interpretation would be “least in the Kingdom.” It is interesting to note that both the faithful and loose teacher were saved, while the Pharisees were implicitly not saved (“unless you have a righteousness greater than that of Pharisees…”) In other words, not only were the Jewish Christian to live by a higher moral standard than the Pharisees (i.e., example), he must have a better interpretation of the Law than the Pharisees (scribe/interpreter). Jesus implied that the Pharisees’ interpretation of the Law was illegitimate. So, how did Jesus interpret the Law? We can only answer that question in light of competing interpretations (as noted) and the context of interpretation at the time of Jesus. As noted in the introduction, past scholars read early Christianity through literary sources; these sources were culturally dependent. In other words, these sources were filtered through the philosophic world view of Greco-Roman culture. With the interest of Jewish scholars in the New Testament that has occurred in the past twenty years, there has been a reassessment of the world view Jesus lived in. Jesus’ world was affected by Greco-Roman culture, but was steeped in a real concern for the Torah and its purity. So, Jesus in Matthew’s gospel was concerned with following the Law, but a higher concern was interpreting the Law in its purest sense. Jesus is not asking us to be perfect; he is asking us to pay attention to how we deal with one another and strive for a righteousness that surpasses what we need to do to get along with one another. The righteousness that Jesus asks of us is not concerned with minimums but is concerned with caring for others as he did. It means loving as he did. Jesus lives the supreme act of love giving self totally. To follow Jesus daily, we must develop a daily habit of giving self to others. For a life habit of self-giving love is the only way we enter the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed Are They My nephew was about to “graduate” from kindergarten. He put on his paper mortarboard and marched with his class to the stage. As he received his “diploma”, Jason shook hands with his teacher. After the ceremony, we each said “Congratulations.” Jason looked at us and asked, “What does that mean?” His mom and dad answered, “Good job!” That answer worked for a five year old! While this may be sufficient for a five year old, sometimes something deeper is intended. If we look at the Latin – “congratulations” means “to be pleased with” or “graced with.” When we offer our congratulations, we are saying we rejoice with the other and it expresses a relationship. The Beatitudes in our Gospel today announce God’s pleasure in and relationship to the poor, to those who are excluded and hated. The Beatitudes seem to describe behaviors and attitudes that we generally ascribe to those we call “saints.” Yet, all of us can name good people we know— truly good people. We can name the qualities and actions that lead us to judge them truly good. These (and we ourselves) are truly good—the blessed. It is awesome to think that our own halting efforts at being really good—at extending mercy, justice, and righteousness to others as God has extended them to us—are one means for bringing God’s blessedness to others! Simply sharing in God’s work of salvation—providing for those in need—is a blessing in itself that brings unequaled happiness. Our deepest happiness comes not from fulfilling our own needs and wants, but from reaching out to others as God reaches out to us in blessing. Happiness that comes from our own desires and efforts is fleeting; the blessings of God that are showered upon us as we live humbly, justly, and faithfully last forever. Here’s the truly amazing part: the happiness we share now is but a taste of our great reward in heaven.
Come I decided this week to begin cleaning the closets and drawers in my bedroom, one at a time! And treasures are found. What I noticed is that I collect coffee cups and candles – cups in all shapes, sizes and candles of various fragrances. Some of the candles I have used on our dinner table when guests have been invited to dinner. They lend a pleasant glow to the atmosphere. Some I have used in an emergency. When the electricity has gone out and I carefully light one single candle, the light from that candle makes all the difference in the world! In our Gospel today, Jesus goes to a Gentile region which the Jewish community considered to be in darkness. It is as though Jesus goes to a land of darkness so the light of his Good News won’t be missed. It is here, in this region of darkness that Jesus begins his saving work.[Living Liturgy, 2011] As Jesus begins his mission, he offers two commands: “Repent” and “Come after me.” Two invitations to walk into the light, revealing God’s Kingdom at hand. The “kingdom is at hand” when we turn from darkness and become Christ’s light for others. Yet seeing the Light who is Jesus is actually much easier than following the Light! John’s faithfulness in preaching Jesus as the Messiah led him to prison and death. Jesus’ preaching about God’s kingdom at hand led him to the cross and death. If we follow the Light, we know what awaits us: dying to self. Yet dying is the only way we ourselves can become the light that shines for others. Following the Light takes us where we would rather not go. But it is only this Light that brings us everlastingn Life. This is why we choose to follow. This is why we choose to be light. Jesus’ call to us and our response to accept being the light is now, this time, our time Just as one candle can dispel the darkness, so can the little light each of us is dispel the darkness of indifference, confusion, selfishness and greed tgat surrounds us. All we need to do is repent and follow.
Second Sunday In Ordinary Time When members of my family introduce someone, they always give that person an automatic promotion. If she’s a doctor, they will exaggerate, introducing her as a brilliant surgeon. A teacher’s aide becomes a full professor. I am told that I do the same thing. I still turn an ordinary singer into a brilliant musician, a plain-looking person into a great beauty. When I’m talking about a dog, a mutt becomes a golden retriever who can juggle. In my family, we see life as a series of grand stories that simply must be populated with larger-than-life characters. The problem is that we can get it wrong, and lose the essence of who a person is. For instance, when a labor union organizer is introduced as the head of a corporation’s labor relations department, he has switched sides. If someone is called the perfect mother, she loses the right to tear her hair out when the baby throws raspberry yogurt across the room. In our grand descriptions, however generously offered, we may strip our characters of the right to be who they really are. We are told that when John the Baptist saw Jesus coming, he declared, “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” Talk about a grand introduction! What could Jesus have felt in that moment? Did he want to say, “Stop. I’m not all that”? Or was he comfortable with the introduction? What John recognized about Jesus was surely something exciting and new. This One is the Lamb of God and the Son of God who will take away sin and baptize with the Holy Spirit. We can recognize him if we actively watch for him. We are able to see Jesus when we put on the mind of Christ. Our active watching is really living as Jesus did: when we see the face of Jesus in the poor and needy; when we reach out a helping hand to those overburdened, when we encourage the discouraged. This is how we remain faithful to the mission God gave us. All this is possible because the Spirit descends upon us too.
Where Is This Newborn King? Remember the character Waldo, who dressed in a red and white striped shirt, wore a bobble hat and glasses, and could be found hiding in a crowd? Wally, as he was known originally, is the creation of British illustrator Martin Handford, who first drew him in 1986, at the request of his art director at Walker Books. The challenge was to create a character that would stand out and serve as a focal point in Handford’s illustrations of crowds. The result was a lovable time traveler hidden in plain sight and manifested in four-color glory amongst ordinary folks engaged in a variety of activities. Wally is the star of books, video games, a comic strip, and a television series. Wally’s exploits have been reproduced in 29 international versions with localized names (Waldo in North America). The celebration of the Epiphany of our Lord invites us to look for manifestations of Jesus in the world, in our communities, and in our lives. Jesus has been hidden in plain sight since birth; more than 2000 years later he is still visible yet often obscured by the glaring light and noise of the world’s powers and principalities. His inauspicious birth was not even a blip on the mental radars of the local religious and political leaders of his day until some foreigners showed up bearing gifts for an infant king identified by a star. Jesus’ next manifestation was as a refugee to Egypt, where his family fled to avoid Herod’s subsequent acts of murderous terror upon boy babies who might possibly be a threat to his throne. Where do we expect to find this new born king and who do we expect him to be? The pattern of our lives is that of the magi: receive God’s revelation, seek the Light, follow the light, encounter the Savior, offer our gifts, pay him homage. We cannot be limited by our own expectations, but must allow God to lead us to the real destination of our life’s journey-to the Light who is the newborn king. Then we must allow this king to shepherd us in graceful living. The real challenge is about where one’s heart lies. It is about bringing forth what is good and spending ourselves for others. In this way we become light dispelling the darkness, leading others to the Light that never fades. When we become the light, the light goes a long, long way.
In Her Heart One of the joyful trends of childbirth in this day and age is that the fathers are also present at the birth. The shared love of the wife and husband brought forth this life. Together they celebrate the gift God has given them and the very moment of birth. The gospels telling the Christmas story include Joseph. When the “shepherds went in haste to Bethlehem” they found “Mary and Joseph and the infant lying in the manger.” This feast day, however, is not one of Mary and Joseph, but of Mary. Yes, Joseph was faithful to God and said yes, as did Mary, to what God asked of him. Yes, Joseph was Jesus’ foster father and taught him the Jewish traditions and how to make a living by being a carpenter. But something else is being celebrated with this feast. Our reflection on the mystery of the incarnation must be so deep as Mary’s that it brings us to greater holiness and faithfulness. It must bring us, like the shepherds, to come in haste to encounter the One who deserves all glory and praise. Honoring Mary as the Mother of God goes beyond the event of her giving birth to the Son of God. By keeping “all these things” and “reflecting on them in her heart,” she exhibits a life of encountering God and being open to whatever God asks of her. Like Mary, we must ponder God’s entry into our own lives, making the divine Presence the very “stuff” of our hearts. We, too, must be open to whatever God asks of us. Sometimes pondering and reflecting will not resolve all the questions we might have. We do not only say yes to God when we understand perfectly all that God asks of us. No, instead we say yes to God, ponder what God wants of us, and then respond with a yes that is open to wherever God leads us. [Living Liturgy 2014] In the Eastern Church the mystery of Mary as the Mother of God is referred to as Theotokos, literally, “the one who gives birth to God.” This feast day extolls Mary as one who cooperated with God’s plan of salvation, even when she did not understand fully what this plan was. She faithfully, however, reflected “in her heart” on God’s working in and through her. We, too, must give birth to God in our midst, reflecting in our own hearts about our own role in God’s plan of salvation for all people. We give birth to God when we, like Mary, listen for God’s voice in our lives, respond with our yes to what God asks of us, reflect on God’s life in us as we strive to grow in holiness and faithfulness. The mystery of the incarnation is not something we celebrate once a year, but is a mystery we live and make present each day of our lives.
Christmas 2016 Come Christmas! No one is ever really ready for Christmas. If we were really all prepared: If every gift we had contemplated had been obtained; If every present was beautifully beribboned; If all the goodies our friends deserve were baked and cooled, and stored just so; If each and every person we love was gathered for our celebration; If we never snapped at someone we care about, nor stopped short of being all that we could be; If our minds were 100 per cent loving and our hearts were 100 per cent generous; They truly would be ready —and truly we would not need Christmas quite so much. So come, Christmas, most needed of seasons. Come with the reminder that love does not depend on Perfection but on willingness to risk connection. Come into the unready manger of our hearts That we may feel the warmth of new life And give flesh to the promise of hope That cries to bring healing into our world. Come Christmas! Come, Love, Come, Hope. Be born in our unready hearts On this silent and holy night. [M. Maureen Killoran]
Advent Week Four: God’s Surprises This gospel from Luke is so very familiar to us. In fact, we just heard it a couple of weeks ago on December 8, the solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary. On that day we interpreted the gospel within the context of the feast day, and focused on Mary’s holiness as announced by Gabriel’s greeting of her: “Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you.” “Mother of Life” Nellie Edwards, used with permission Now, on the Fourth Sunday of Advent when we hear this gospel proclaimed again, we are drawn particularly to Gabriel’s annunciation that Mary would, by the power of the Holy Spirit, “conceive in [her] womb and bear a son.” Conception to birth: a time of waiting and anticipation, nurturing life and protecting it, preparing and hoping. Can we not imagine Mary and Joseph quietly sitting together during these wonderful months of pregnancy, wondering about this great mystery, putting their hands on Mary’s body and feeling “the child to be born” stirring in her womb? Each kick that a mother (and father) feels in the womb is an annunciation of life. Each movement is an annunciation of life eagerly bursting to come forth. In Mary’s womb, the Life stirring is the author of life and salvation, the very “Son of God,” announcing that a new in-breaking of God is happening. God’s whole plan of salvation is a perpetual annunciation. In this gospel, there are numerous “annunciations” beyond Gabriel’s revealing to Mary that she would conceive “the Son of God.” Gabriel makes known that Mary is holy; that the child shall be named Jesus; that the kingdom of this Child would have no end; that this Child is “holy, the Son of God”; that Elizabeth has conceived; that “nothing will be impossible for God”; and that Mary is God’s faithful and obedient handmaid. Indeed, perpetual annunciation is God’s pattern of relating to us. How do we, then, relate to God? We do so by responding with a yes to God’s annunciations in our own lives. God chooses to be known to us, names us holy, and desires that we be filled with God’s Life. Our response, like Mary’s, must be one of openness and full-throated yes to whatever God asks of us. [Living Liturgy 2017] God’s annunciations of saving Presence can come to us in so many ways. Yes, God speaks to us during times of prayer. But God also speaks to us through the everyday persons and events of our lives, in cries for help and forgiveness or in the jubilation of success and growth. God’s annunciations of salvation might be mediated by our struggle to make a just decision or our choice to walk away from a group engaging in negative gossip. Yes is not simply a word. Deepening our relationship with God and others happens when our yes becomes a way of living. We have only a few days left before we celebrate Christmas, the mystery of God becoming human. Now is the time to rehearse our own yes to God by imitating Mary’s faithfulness and obedience to God’s annunciations. Perhaps we could consciously think of our holiday greeting to others as a way to make generosity and joy concrete. Perhaps we could take a few minutes out of our busy days to listen for God’s word to us, say yes, and then put God’s annunciation into action, “enflesh” God’s Presence in the goodness of our own lives. God’s annunciations are perpetual and beg from us a yes response. Will this Christmas be a time to renew our own commitment to say yes to God and God’s offer of salvation?
Advent Week Three: Great Expectations Parents know the different cries of their baby: whether it’s a cry of discomfort, hunger, anger. The very sound of the baby’s cry includes something of the baby’s experience and need. Though not able to speak words yet, the baby nevertheless is quite capable of communicating, and good parents are ever attuned to this constant and revealing self-information that helps them give comfort and security to their little bundle of love. Advent calls us to be ever attuned to the cries around us that testify to the Light come into our midst and that challenge us to encounter Christ in such a way that we cannot hold within ourselves our own cries of recognition and commitment. After saying clearly who he is not (“Christ or Elijah or the Prophet”), John does say who he is: “I am the voice of one crying out in the desert.” So who is John? The one who in his very being recognizes the Christ who has come to lead the people into the fullness of light and Life. Testifying with conviction to the light of Christ must be more than speaking words; the conviction is conveyed—cried out—by the way we choose to live each day. We are to do good works (“bring glad tidings to the poor,” “heal the brokenhearted,” etc.; first reading). Testifying with conviction also means that we must constantly grow in our relationship to Christ and learn to recognize him even where we might not expect to find him. Yes, sometimes we are like the people in the gospel in that we seek the Messiah but often do not recognize his Presence in our midst. The work of Advent is to intensify our good works so that we become attuned to recognizing Christ here and now; even more, it is the work of our whole Christian lives. As we near the celebration of Christmas, we ourselves must take up John’s conviction, John’s cry. Testifying with conviction comes to greater fullness when we have been tried in the various “deserts” of our daily living. Testing confronts us with choices, and making good choices attunes us to Christ’s Presence to us in so many ways. This testing brings us growth and liveliness. It helps us see in new ways and cry out with ever greater urgency. What is at stake is recognition of the Messiah-Christ among us. It’s easy and comfortable to recognize Christ in the expected places and ways. When we enter the peace of a church, for example, we expect to find God. When we sit and pray in our homes, we expect to find God and have our prayers answered. All this is good. The “deserts” of our own lives are opportunities testing us and leading us to deeper conviction about who Christ is. For example, the “desert” of a long, debilitating illness tests our trust in God’s Presence and care. The “desert” of a failed relationship tests our understanding of love and fidelity, and our willingness to forgive. The “desert” of unemployment and financial stress tests our priorities and values and our willingness to depend on God. Such testing shapes our convictions, helps us encounter Christ in our daily living, and enables us to testify to him with greater authenticity. Especially during these final days before Christmas when everyone is so busy, we can forget that our mission is like John’s: to testify to the Light by crying out its Presence in our midst. We do this by how we respond to those around us: take time to listen to the one hurting, visit those who might be forgotten, do with a little less ourselves so others might have more, take time to pray, remember to give thanks, offer a helping hand, reorganize our priorities, praise the God in others.
Advent Week Two: Prepare The Way We often see old war films showing a scene of two uniformed armed forces personnel ringing the doorbell of an average home, the door is opened, and the woman answering sees the soldiers and immediately swoons. No words are needed for her to know the news is dire. These messengers are doing their duty, but it is not a pleasant one. Other messengers are welcomed with open arms and joy, for example, when the boss’s secretary brings out the vacation schedule and the laborer has gotten the vacation time requested or when the child brings home an improved report card to the parents. Still other messengers might leave us wondering, uncertain, searching. In this gospel John is the messenger for “One mightier than I [who] is coming after me.” His message was new and startling: “He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” No doubt John’s hearers received his message with wondering, uncertain, searching hearts. John was a desert ascetic whose mission was to prepare the people for a life-transforming change—the Lord is coming! Who is this Lord? One mightier than John. How so? John announces the nearness of salvation; Jesus is the salvation. John baptizes with water, Jesus with the Holy Spirit. What does this mean? Jesus’ baptism instills God’s very Life through the power of the Holy Spirit within us. Baptism with the Holy Spirit trans¬forms our preparation into fulfillment—the Lord has come! Here is the key to grasping John’s message: by our encountering the Lord, our own wondering, uncertainty, and searching about the meaning of John’s message is dispelled. John’s humility as depicted in the words of this gospel (“One mightier than I”) did not rest in a false sense of his own worth, but instead on his own deep conviction about who Jesus is, a conviction that only could come from his having encountered the One whom he proclaimed. Like John, we too must personally encounter the very One whose messengers we, too, are to be. Encounter with the Lord’s Presence opens us to the Spirit with whom we’ve been baptized, enabling us to have greater clarity about the message and the One whom we proclaim by the quality of our own holy living. [Living Liturgy 2017] John the Baptist diverted attention from himself to Jesus. His ministry was not about himself but about the “One mightier than I [who] is coming after me.” He proclaimed repentance, prepared for Jesus, died—this was the pattern of John’s life. Actually, it’s the pattern of Jesus’ life, too: he proclaimed the Good News, prepared the way to the Father, died. Further, it’s the pattern of our own paschal mystery living: proclaim the gospel of repentance, prepare for Christ’s many comings, die to ourselves. During this Advent are we primarily preparing ourselves for life-transforming change or merely preparing to celebrate a secular Christmas? What are our expectations? How does John the Baptist challenge us with a new set of expectations? Who helps us listen to John and respond? What prepares us to open ourselves to respond more fully to the Spirit with whom we have been baptized? Do our responses show that we know our expectations will be exceeded? What really prepares us for the changes the coming of the Lord will bring into our lives?
Advent Week One: Stay Awake With today’s instant and easy communication technology, it is difficult to imagine not knowing when someone for whom we’re waiting will come. We know the exact time when the plane will land, when the car leaves the Interstate, when the guest is arriving at our house. While Christ doesn’t exactly communicate by texting us of his every arrival, when our watching for him is alert and wakeful, we begin to see all the signs of his Presence to us now. We prepare best for Christ’s final coming by the kind of watching we do now and how we grow in our ability to recognize his presence now. We begin Advent this Sunday not by looking to Christ’s first coming into our midst at the Incarnation, but by looking to Christ’s return at the end of time. Christ has come, fulfilled his mission, and then, like the “lord of the house” in the gospel, is “traveling abroad.” We, “his servants in charge,” have each been given our own work to do until Christ returns. And what is our first and most important work? Watching for Christ’s coming! We must always remember that the watching is never in vain: our watching hastens encounters with the very One on whom we wait. Our watching and encountering is now and in it the past and future meet. We live now, and in this present moment Christ is within us and among us.[Living Liturgy 2017] Four times in this gospel Christ commands us, “Be watchful!” or “Watch!” While we are to watch for Christ’s Second Coming, that future can be elusive for us. What is immediate and manageable is to watch for Christ’s coming now into our midst. Being watchful and alert for the Second Coming is not enough; we must consciously seek to identify Christ already present now. If we are pro¬actively watching for everyday encounters with Christ, he will surely not find us “sleeping,” neither now nor when he returns. The Second Coming becomes real for us in our encounters with Christ in the here and now. Christ’s glory be¬comes real for us in our encounter with Christ in the here and now. Our watching for Christ’s coming is heightened by seeing God in the simple, everyday things we do. Our lives often seem to bog down with the endless “sameness” of things. We spend Advent in the time and place we always live, and we still can find Christ anew because he is ever making us anew. When we encounter Christ, we actually encounter who we are now and who we are becoming. The work of Advent is to “Be watchful!” so that we grow in being Christ’s Presence for others. We are the servants left in charge; we are the ones who watch and wait for the master’s return. The gospel illustrates for us how we are to be during our watching: we are not only to watch for Christ, but we watch Christ. From him we learn how to reach out to others. Our work is futile when it serves our own ends; it is fruitful when it manifests the very work the Son came to do—bring justice and peace to a weary world. Only by encountering Christ and opening ourselves to his goodness is our weariness soothed, our energy quickened, and our lives expressed in the joy of the Word being made flesh today in us. Adapted from Renew Inrnational: Prayer Time Cycle B
Christ The King Today – this last Sunday of the Church Year – is the Sunday that is called “Christ the King Sunday” or “The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe”. For most of us the image of Christ as King is perhaps troublesome. We live in a democracy after all – and though our democracy may be a constitutional monarchy – our minds can’t quite wrap themselves around the whole concept of kingship, even when it is applied to Christ Jesus. It may help us to appreciate what Christ the King Sunday is all about if we know a bit about how it came to be. The title for this Sunday was created fairly recently – in 1925 in fact – by Pope Pius XI. Why did Pope Pius XI create this Sunday and suggest the readings that we have? Quite simply because the church needed the image of Christ the King at that moment in time. On its first celebration, Mussolini had been the leader of Italy for three years; and a rabble-rouser named Hitler had been out of jail for a year. Hitler’s Nazi party was growing in popularity, and the world lay in a great Depression: a depression that would become far worse over the next fifteen years. In such a time, Pius XI asserted that, nevertheless, with all of those new dictators and false values in the world, Christ is King of the universe. The feast of Christ the King, then, was and is basically a language thing, a symbol, a metaphor,designed to be a statement of life’s fundamental question for broken times such as ours. The question – who exercises dominion over whom? And the question: Who or what rules our lives and how? If we pick up on that theme, then the feast of Christ the King can makes sense for us today.[Living Liturgy 2013] Who rules our lives? Who dominates culture? Today we assert the gospel message – the message that Christ is in charge. What makes Christ our King? He gave himself for the sake of others. Here is what it means for us to live under his reign:to give our lives for others. When we forgive those who have hurt us, reach out to those who are trying to change and grow, expand our hearts to welcome those who are marginalized. This is the way Jesus has shown us; this is what Jesus has saved us for; this is the way we embrace the kingdom of God.
Conflicts? Opportunities? In the beginning, all things came to be. At the end, things as we know them will cease to be. Does anything really last forever? Certainly not temples, not nations, not even the foundations of the earth. So, what does last forever? God, the wisdom of Jesus, divine Life. And, yes, the lives of those who persevere in fidelity to the name and mission of Jesus and who “will secure” a share in divine Life. At the end . . . a new beginning. We tend in everyday living to become mired in what is immediate, tangible, satisfies our present needs. The gospel challenges us to think beyond the present to what really is critical for us: the end of time and the life we do or do not secure for ourselves. Our whole life is a choice about end times. This Sunday is a reminder that we secure our Life at the end of time through fidelity to Jesus’ name in the present time. Only the irrefutable and irresistible wisdom of Jesus gives us the strength and courage to be faithful to the end. Through our perseverance we discover that what we thought was the end is really a new beginning: God’s gift of eternal Life to those who are faithful. [Living Liturgy 2013] Here is a sobering thought: the way we care for the children, are honest at the workplace, take leisure time to care for ourselves affects our whole world and everyone in it. This is the privilege of discipleship: we can make a difference! This is the effect of faithful discipleship: the world is a better place—we have readied it for Christ’s Second Coming at the end of time by our faithful and grace-filled living now. Every choice we make now bears import for our eternal future. Each choice to be faithful to Jesus’ name is a new beginning—a deepening of discipleship, a growth in wisdom, a strengthening of unselfish love, a fuller bonding in the Body of Christ, a realization of Jesus’ saving mission. Each choice to be faithful stretches us toward the final new beginning: fullness of Life in God.
Seeking To See When do we find ourselves up a tree? When we are in a difficult situation and can’t seem to find a way out. The idea is to climb down, to find a solution. In this gospel story, Zacchaeus does the opposite. He goes up a tree to solve his problem. What’s not to like about this Zacchaeus story? All kinds of things feed our imagination. A “wealthy man” throws aside social propriety and does what an enthusiastic little kid would do—he climbs a tree! And he doesn’t pick an easy tree—he climbs a sycamore tree, a very tall tree, one without branches close to the ground. He chooses a very difficult way to get what he wants: “to see who Jesus was.” And he gets more than he climbed for—Jesus tells him, “Today salvation has come to this house.” Zacchaeus’s short stature kept him from seeing Jesus with his physical eyes. His ardent desire to encounter Jesus, however, indicates that he had already seen him with the eyes of his heart. Encountering Jesus does not depend upon the goodness of one’s life, but encountering him can bring about conversion of life. Zacchaeus chooses to put his life in right order. For this does Zacchaeus come to salvation. Encountering Jesus and choosing to put our own life in right order brings us to the same salvation. We only need to see Jesus with the eyes of our hearts wide open. All of us are invited to salvation. Those are saved who seek Jesus (Zacchaeus made the first step when he climbed the sycamore tree to see Jesus) and are open to being sought by him (Jesus stayed at his house). Those are saved who change their lives when they encounter Jesus. Seeing Jesus isn’t enough. Encounter must lead to a faith relationship that makes a difference in our lives. Moreover, since Jesus continues his saving mission through us his followers, we must be equally responsive to others. We must put our own affairs in order and care for those in any need. We must also live in such a way that when others encounter us, they encounter Jesus. [Living Liturgy, 2013] Most of us don’t have to be so creative or go to the extreme of climbing a tree to encounter Jesus. However, this gospel forewarns us that we ought to not be complacent about our spiritual lives. Zacchaeus reminds us that we must also always be willing to change and grow and be vigilant about our relationships with others, for these are barometers of our relationship with God. Creativity in seeking Jesus might mean that we are innovative in our personal prayer life rather than continually reciting the prayers we might have learned long ago. What prayers might better meet our spiritual needs now so that we can grow in our relationships? It might mean that we keep certain days of the year (perhaps the days of the Triduum or some days during Advent) as a “mini retreat” in order to diligently seek Jesus and a better relationship with him. It might mean that we don’t wait for people to come to us and ask for help but that we notice others’ needs and offer to help before they ask. In these and countless other ways we encounter Jesus—and salvation comes to our house. [artist: Joel Whitehead]
Twenty-Seventh Sunday In Ordinary Time We have great respect for people who are conscientious, fulfill their duties, do all that is expected of them. More than even respect, we have great awe for those who walk the extra mile, who reach out to others when this is not required, who go beyond normal expectations. Going beyond expectations is an enlargement of self that enables us to transcend boundaries and limits, and achieve the seemingly impossible. People who do this can move mountains, can shake foundations, can uproot a mulberry tree. These people inspire us, move us to greater heroics, challenge us to stretch ourselves so that we become even larger than life. These are people of great faith. In our Gospel, the apostles demand that Jesus increase their faith. Jesus responds that even faith “the size of a mustard seed” is enough to do great things. The “unprofitable servants” of Jesus’ gospel teaching simply do what they are commanded—they do not go beyond normal expectations; they cannot uproot a mulberry tree They misunderstood the nature and power of faith. Faith cannot be quantified, but its power can be impeded. Jesus teaches that with even a little bit of faith, we can achieve great and seemingly impossible things.[Living Liturgy 2013] Aligned with God, we can do the seemingly impossible because we can do as God does. We can forgive someone who has broken our trust, love someone who rubs us the wrong way, relieve hunger even by simple acts of generosity, bring justice to situations where the powerful exploit the weak, remain faithful to prayer even when God seems absent. All these are acts of faith. All these go beyond normal expectations. All these reveal how powerful our God is, and how deep our faith can be.
No Time For God? Creating Space For Prayer Dear friend, Cultivating space for God in our daily lives begins with a simple seed. My hope is that this series, No Time for God? Creating Space for Prayer in Our Busy Calendar, allows the graces you receive from God daily to continue to deepen and take root in your life. It will invite you to: 1. Check the pulse of your spiritual life 2. Discern your space, place, and time for prayer 3. Build a toolbox of prayer tools 4. Create a spiritual plan for your life For the next 4 weeks, you will receive an email once a week with some food for thought, weekly reflection activities, and suggested scriptures to support you in prayer. Know that as you continue to cultivate space for God in your own life, I am praying for you! Peace, Becky Elridge Continue reading →
Twenty-Sixth Sunday In Ordinary Time Who doesn’t dream of hitting the lottery? of being so wealthy that life would have no worries? of being able to retire young with complete security? Given the choice, who of us would not choose to be rich? Lazarus in today’s Gospel story is not the same Lazarus that Jesus raised from the dead, the brother of Mary and Martha. This Lazarus was a poor beggar at the door of a rich man. Today’s Gospel story is a classic one often told as a lesson on life after death. The rich man dies and goes to a place of torment, while the hungry Lazarus goes to heaven. But having read some Scripture commentaries, perhaps we might consider judging the rich man, not because of his wealth, but because of his lack of compassion. The real issue of the gospel, however, is not about riches or poverty. It is about how we respond to the person lying at our door. Consider this: even after he dies, the rich man still doesn’t get it! He’s still expecting others to do his bidding. He’s not a bad guy, he just doesn’t know any other way of life. This gospel contrasts two life circumstances: rich or poor, basking in abundance or living in misery. It also contrasts two choices about how we relate to others: self-centered or other-centered. We often have little control over our life circumstances. But we have complete control over how we choose to relate to others. It is not only self-absorbed rich people who walk by those in need. How do we respond to the cashier in the grocery store? the wait staff in a restaurant? the housekeeping staff who cleans our hotel room? Sometimes we might be surprised by who is lying at our door. Like the rich man in the gospel, our response determines how we will spend eternity.