The Price of Ignoring God
Today’s Mass readings tell such a story! The tragic story of a people who strayed from God.
“Abandoning the Lord, the God of their fathers, … they followed the other gods of the various nations around them. … They were quick to stray from the way their fathers had taken, and did not follow their example of obedience to the commandments of the Lord (Judges 2: 12, 17).
The result? They mingled with unbelievers and, imitating their ways, turned to idolatry and “sacrificed their sons and daughters to demons” (Psalm 106: 35-37).
It speaks to me of today. I have often wondered how people who are basically good, basically rational (including many Christians), can tolerate and even support such an evil and irrational action as abortion. I believe it’s because we, as a society, are living as if God doesn’t exist. We may occasionally give lip service to God, but essentially we just ignore Him. We have mingled with non-believers and adopted their ways, indifferent to God’s presence and living in disobedience to His teachings. The human being is created with a need to worship. If we abandon the right worship of God, we will inevitably worship someone or something else – idolatry. And we always become like what we worship. When we de-throne God and give our hearts over to anything that doesn’t include God, our perception of truth is clouded, our hearts are hardened, and we can even find reasons to justify the destruction of life, “sacrificing our sons and daughters to demons.” It is vitally important that we have people who can argue against the culture of death in the public forum. Not all of us are called or gifted to do that. But we are all called to recognize the ways we ignore God, to identify and cast out our idols, and to put God back on the throne in our hearts.
I firmly believe that no one in right relationship to God could ever accept abortion, could ever swallow the lie of pro-choice. The more each of us can grow in our own relationship with God and encourage others to do likewise, the more hearts and minds will be freed to recognize truth and serve to build a culture of life. As the words of an old hymn express it, “Cast out each idol from its throne. The Lord is God and He alone.”
Remain in My Love
What a blessing this morning, on the Feast of the Assumption, to read a 40-page pastoral letter on the Eucharist, “Remain in My Love,” written by Fr. Ted Dudzinski, a busy pastor in Kokomo, IN to be distributed to his parishoners! So great to know there are priests shepherding their flocks so well! Here’s a section from the end where he summarizes the role of Mary as our model and guide in learning how to respond fruitfully to the great gift of the Eucharist.
“Her constant ‘yes’ to God throughout her life meant that she was always ready to contemplate the face of her Son. She who pondered in her heart the love of God (manifest in Jesus’ birth, hidden life, public ministry, death and resurrection), now spends all eternity gazing upon her Son in heaven. Her assumption into heaven demonstrates the path laid out for all of us who love her Son. If we spend our lives in this world contemplating Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, we too, will spend all eternity face-to-face with Him. Let us abide in His love both in time and in eternity.”
1 Cf. Luke 2:19
Look to the Lord
Look to the Lord in his strength;seek to serve him constantly. (Ps 105:4-5)
Funny how words you’ve seen many times can suddenly jump off the page at you with new power and meaning. For some reason, the opening lines of the responsorial psalm at Mass one morning leaped out at me and stayed with me throughout the Mass.
Look to the Lord in his strength;seek to serve him constantly. (Ps 105:4-5).
Nothing really new, just a familiar bit of pious instruction. But somehow that morning the words had a different energy, hinging especially on the two action verbs: “look” and “seek.”
What struck me was that we’re not talking about a casual glance here, but a conscious, earnest, fixed gaze – and not just at the Lord, but at his strength.
How many times a day do I end up focusing on myself – my work, my concerns, my plans – in light of my own strength, my own ability (or lack thereof)? Sure, the awareness of God is there, but often relegated to the back of my mind. After all, I’ve got things to do. I can’t just pray all day.
Or can I? If I can just remember to stay present to the Lord, rejoicing in all he has done and trusting in all he can do, then all my daily activities can be done “through him, with him, and in him. As St. Paul writes, “I can do all things in him who strengthens me” (Phil. 4:13).
This intentional, continual looking to the Lord’s strength in all I do needs to be balanced by a second intention, capsulized in the next action verb of the psalm: “seek”.
I’m not just looking to the Lord’s strength to help get me through the day or accomplish my agendas. I’m actively trying to serve him constantly – in everything I do – striving to do his will, accomplish his agendas.
How do I do this? The next line of the psalm provides another active verb: “Recall the wondrous deeds that he has wrought.” I need to remember who this God is! Remembering all he has done, I can trust what he can do – and perhaps most importantly, what he wants to do. He wants to fulfill his covenant of love, and the psalm refrain echoes this reality into my heart: “The Lord remembers his covenant forever.”
Lord, in all I do, help me to remember that you are always remembering your love for me. Help me to rely on you as a child relies on his father, remembering that you are always faithful to your fatherhood.
“Shalom”
Divine Mercy Sunday!
Readings: Acts 2:42-47; 1 Pt 5:3-9; Jn 20:19-31
‘Peace be with you,’ he said. Jn 20:19
Today’s Gospel tells the story of the first Easter Sunday and its octave day, which we celebrate today as Divine Mercy Sunday. The disciples are confused and frightened. Christ had represented their deepest hopes, but all that had changed in the garden, in the court of the high priest, in the praetorium of Pilate, and on that awful hill of Calvary where most of them had not even dared to show themselves. After the torture and execution of Christ, all had seemed lost. So the disciples had withdrawn into the upper room and locked the doors.
And suddenly He was there with them. (In our fear we can try to lock Him out, but He is always with us.) The first word He spoke was “shalom,” which means not just “peace,” but complete health and well-being in mind, body, and spirit.
Thomas wasn’t there and refused to believe unless he could see the holes in Christ’s hands and put his hand into the wound in His side. So, eight days later, Christ shows up again, offering Thomas the proof he needs. What a wonderful testimony to how far God is willing to go to reveal Himself to each of us, personally, when we long to see Him!
Here we are, some 2000 years later. So many plans that haven’t worked out. So many dashed expectations. In our fear, how many rooms have we fled into to hide? How many locked doors are there in our minds and hearts? How many times have we been afraid to trust, unwilling to believe, unable to receive?
Every day, but especially today, when we remember and celebrate His mercy, Christ stands before us (even in the deepest locked rooms of our being), offers us His “shalom,” and invites us to receive His Spirit. “One thing alone is necessary: that the sinner set ajar the door of his heart … to let in a ray of God’s merciful grace” (Diary, 1507).
Lord, help me to let go of all fear today and trust You to break through all the locked doors, heal all the wounds, and breathe Your “shalom” into my heart.
Return to the Charcoal Fire
Friday in the Octave of Easter
Readings: Acts 4:1-12; Jn 21:1-14
When they landed, they saw a charcoal fire. Jn 21:9
In today’s Gospel, Peter and six of the other disciples have been fishing all night, but have caught nothing. Jesus shows up on the shore (once again they don’t recognize Him), and tells them where to cast their nets. They obey and are rewarded with a huge catch. Realizing that it’s Jesus, Peter excitedly jumps into the water.
For Peter, it must have brought back the memory of an earlier scene when he was first called to be a disciple. After a similar miraculous catch of fish, Jesus had told him he was to be a fisher of men (see Lk 5:1-11).
From that time on, he had followed Jesus. But then had come that terrible night when he had denied Jesus three times. And now, as he approached the shore, he was about to be reminded of that event, too, for there was “a charcoal fire there, with a fish laid on it and some bread” (Jn 21:9).
What’s a charcoal fire have to do with anything? The only other place in the New Testament where we see a charcoal fire is in the courtyard of the high priest where Peter denied Christ (see Jn 18:18).
Christ is about to put Peter in charge of his flock, but first there’s healing needed. So He builds a charcoal fire to lead Peter back to the time of his sin. Then comes the tender dialogue of mercy: Do you love Me? … Yes, Lord. … Then feed my sheep (see Jn 21:15-17). Three times Peter is allowed to reaffirm his love for Jesus to make up for the three denials.
How wonderful to know that the same mercy is available to us. Whenever we fail, Jesus stands there at the shore of our sin, waiting to build a charcoal fire and gently ask the question that matters above all else, “Do you love Me?”
Thank you, Lord Jesus, for Your infinite mercy. Don’t ever let me cling to my sin and guilt, but lead me to the shore of Your love for forgiveness and healing.
Doubly Loved
Thursday in the Octave of Easter
Readings: Acts 3:11-26; Lk 24:35-48
It is really I. Touch me and see. Lk 24:39
The theme of recognizing Christ continues in today’s Gospel. After Jesus had vanished from their sight, the two disciples had rushed back to Jerusalem, “where they found the Eleven and the rest of the company assembled” (Lk 24: 33.) While they were recounting the story of “how they had come to know Jesus in the breaking of the bread,” suddenly “Jesus himself stood in their midst” (Lk 24:36).
How does the group react? They panic. Why? Because they think they’re seeing a ghost. They’ve seen bodies raised from the dead before, but this is different. This body still looks human, but has obvious spiritual qualities, too, and doesn’t seem limited by the laws of nature. Jesus in His risen, glorified body can show up or vanish when and where He wishes and even walk through locked doors!
So Jesus has to reassure them that they’re not seeing an apparition, but that He’s really present with them. Imagine hearing Him say this to you from the Eucharist: “Look at My hands and feet; it is really I. Touch Me, and see” (Lk 24:39).
Jesus is really present in the Eucharist; alive as God and alive as a human man. What does that mean? It means that in the Eucharist you are doubly loved. As God, Jesus has always loved you. But now, with His human will completely united with His divine will, He loves you in His full humanity, too. From the Eucharist, He looks at you with His human eyes, thinks about you with His human mind, loves you with His human heart. And His loving, living presence is as real as it was to that first group of Christians in Jerusalem.
Thank you, Jesus, for this awesome gift of the Eucharist. Forgive me, Lord, for any times I have failed to recognize You, treating you as an object instead of a living person.
The Emmaus Problem
Wednesday in the Octave of Easter
Readings: Acts 3:1-10; Lk 24:13-35
Their eyes were opened and they recognized him. Lk 24:31
Today’s readings pose an important question: “How do you look?” Not your appearance, but your way of viewing. Do you simply observe things, or do you gaze intently, looking beyond the obvious? Do you merely see with your eyes or do you probe with your mind?
Check out this scene from the first reading: “Peter fixed his gaze on the man; so did John. ‘Look at us!’ Peter said. The cripple gave them his whole attention” (Acts 3:4-5). Peter then healed the cripple and, when the people “saw him,” they “recognized him.” (Acts 3:9-10).
In the Gospel, when Jesus joined the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, they didn’t know who He was until the breaking of the bread. Then “their eyes were opened and they recognized him” (Lk 24:16, 31).
This “Emmaus Problem” is still with us. When the priest elevates the Host, many people still see only bread. Even those of us who believe that Christ is truly present need to grow in our ability to recognize who Christ is for us in the Eucharist and thus enter into fuller, more personal communion with Him.
What’s the answer? To get in the habit of “gazing upon the Lord,” pondering as Our Lady did, with your mind, heart, and soul. “To contemplate the face of Christ,” wrote Pope John Paul II, “and to contemplate it with Mary is the ‘programme’ I have set before the Church at the dawn of the third millennium. … [It] involves being able to recognize him … above all in the living sacrament of his body and blood” (Ecclesia de Eucharistia, # 6).
“Although You have hidden Yourself,” St. Faustina writes, “my eye, enlightened by faith, reaches You, … my soul recognizes its Creator, … and my heart is completely immersed in prayer of adoration” (Diary, 1692).
Lord, help me to keep my gaze fixed on You and to schedule times of adoration so I can grow in my personal relationship with You.
Come as You wish
Tuesday in the Octave of Easter
Readings: Acts 2:36-41; Jn 20:11-18
Then you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. Acts 2:38
Today’s first reading is taken from St. Peter’s Pentecost sermon, in which he urges his listeners to receive the gift of the Holy Spirit (see Acts 2:38). The only reason the crowds are listening to Peter at all is that they have just witnessed the Holy Spirit in action. Christ had promised that when the Holy Spirit came upon the disciples they would be clothed with power, and He wasn’t kidding (Acts 1:8)!
A sudden loud sound. Tongues of fire. Everyone speaking in strange languages. So much noise that thousands of people gather, amazed and bewildered (see Acts 2:1-12).
It’s doubtful that the apostles had expected this kind of behavior from the Holy Spirit. And they probably didn’t anticipate the effect He would have on their own behavior. The “devout men” who have gathered certainly don’t seem to be viewing this as a legitimate religious experience. Some of them openly mock the apostles, saying, “They have had too much new wine” (Acts 2:13).
Though it’s only nine o’clock in the morning, the apostles are indeed acting drunk, so much so, that, as he begins the first Christian sermon, St. Peter has to assure the crowds, “These men are not drunk, as you suppose” (Acts 2:15).
It’s helpful to look at this scene now and then so we don’t try to keep the Holy Spirit in a tidy little box of our own making. It’s really a control issue. We like to think we’re in charge, and we don’t like surprises. We have certain expectations of how God will act and how people ought to act if they are really filled with His Spirit.
Reliving Pentecost reminds us not to judge others and not to place conditions on God. It invites us to throw away the remote control unit and call upon the Holy Spirit to “clothe us in power” in whatever ways He chooses.
Lord, I want to be completely open to Your will. Help me to pray constantly: “Come Holy Spirit; come now; come as You wish.”
Go to Galilee
Monday in the Octave of Easter
Readings: Acts 2:14, 22-33; Mt 28:8-15
“They are to go to Galilee, where they will see me.” Mt 28: 10
A few days ago at the Vigil Mass, we heard an angel instruct the women at the tomb to tell the disciples, “He is going ahead of you to Galilee” (Mk 16:7) Then the Sequence for Easter Sunday announced, “He will go before his own into Galilee.” And in today’s Gospel, Jesus Himself repeats the angel’s message, “They are to go to Galilee where they will see me” (Mt 28:10).
“This ‘going before’ of Jesus,” explains Pope Benedict XVI, “implies a double direction. The first is, as we have heard, Galilee, … [which] was considered the gate to the pagan world.” And when the disciples follow Jesus there, He takes them to the mountain top and tells them to go and “make disciples of all nations” (Mt 28:19).
By His life and death, Jesus has “gone before” them in revealing the Father’s plan of mercy for all. Now, as they follow Him “to Galilee,” they receive their commission to spread the gospel throughout the world.
The second direction is shown to us in John’s account, where Jesus says to Mary Magdalene, “Go to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am going to my Father and your Father” (Jn 20:17). Jesus “goes ahead” of us to the Father’s house, where He has promised to prepare a place for us (see Jn 14:2-3).
“These two directions,” explains Pope Benedict, “are not in contradiction, but together indicate the way to follow Christ. The real end of our journeying is communion with God. God himself is the house of many rooms (see Jn 14:2). But we can only ascend to this room by walking ‘to Galilee,’ …taking the gift of his love to the men of all times.”
Lord, Jesus, thank You for this reminder. Help me Lord to follow You to the Father by sharing the good news of His love with others.
Response Ability
Easter Sunday
Readings: Acts 10:34a, 37-43; Col 3:1-4 or 1 . 5:6b-8; Jn 20:1-9 or Mk 16:1-7 or, at an afternoon or evening Mass, Lk 24:13-35
“Since you have been raised up in company with Christ, set your heart on what pertains to higher realms.” Col 3:1
The knowledge that the Father wants to raise each of us up with Christ gives us great cause for rejoicing, but it doesn’t give us a magic wand. God is inviting us to a banquet of eternal life, but it’s an R.S.V. P. invitation. We have to respond.
What kind of response? Holiness. God loves us and wants us to be with Him forever. But, in order to be with Him, we have to become like Him, because nothing unholy can enter the presence of God.
Scripture makes this very clear: “Strive for peace with everyone, and for that holiness without which no one will see the Lord (Heb 12:14) … Be holy; for I, the Lord, your God, am holy” (Lev 20:7).
If you’re thinking that this sounds like an impossible command, you’re right. There’s no way you and I can make ourselves holy. But God can. Popular speaker, Babsie Bleasdell explains it this way: “Responsibility is my response to God’s ability. My weakness is no deterrent to His grace. All He needs is my yes.”
Step one in this yes is to recognize that “good enough” is not good enough, but that you are called to be a saint. Step two is to make this your most important goal, acquiring what Pope John Paul II called “a genuine longing for holiness.” And Step three is to take every opportunity to receive grace, especially through the sacraments of Reconciliation and Eucharist.
If you long for holiness above all else, and rely on God’s grace, he will fill you with the gift of his own life to heal you of sin and make you holy (see CCC #1999).
Lord, I believe that You are calling me to be holy, and I say yes to that call. Help me to long for holiness and cooperate with Your grace so that I may become like You and live in Your presence forever.
Vinny Flynn
