The first reading for the 22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C, from Sirach chapter 3 and the Gospel from Luke chapter 14 are about humility.
Do you have friends or family members who have a hard time accepting a compliment? When you praise the delicious meal they have served they say, "Oh, it was nothing." I'm tempted to respond, "You're right. It really was pretty mediocre. I've had a lot better."
Why do some people reject compliments or deny them? The reason is called "false humility." It's false because it denies the truth of the goodness that's being recognized and praised. It's false because it's often motivated by a desire to receive more attention and praise.
But what about the parable Jesus tells in today's Gospel? In it he recommends taking the lowest or worst seat at a banquet so that the host will come along and seat you in a better place and "you will enjoy the esteem of your companions at the table." Isn't that "false humility?"
The key to understanding all this is to ask about one's motivation.
True humility is honest. It's truthful, not false. And the ultimate truth is that we are nothing. There is no "self-made person." We didn't create ourselves nor did we endow ourselves with the talents we use to do things that gain us recognition and praise. All that we are and have is ultimately a gift from God.
We are nothing and we are great. We are great because we are important to God. We are so precious to God that the Son of God shed his Precious Blood "that speaks more eloquently than that of Abel" (see the second reading). The blood of Abel, the Bible's first murder victim, called for justice, for vengeance. The Blood of Jesus calls for mercy. It says to each human being: "You are precious to me. Precious enough to die for. I would rather die than to live without you."
Because Jesus underwent what he called a "baptism"--his suffering and death--we are freed from sin and death. We are saved and baptized into God's family. We are joined to the Body of Christ. Now, as God's beloved daughters and sons, we share in the same relationship with God the Father that Jesus has. The Father loves us with the same infinite love with which he loves his only begotten Son.
This is what makes us great. Not our looks. Not physical beauty. Not what we do or accomplish. Not the awards we win. Not our wealth or power. Not what others think of us or say about us.
False humility is motivated by insecurity. We wonder, "Am I really good. Am I really lovable?" Seeking praise from others tries to answer those questions in the affirmative. But we can't depend on what others say or think about us for our sense of self-worth. Human praise disappears like the sound of the words. Physical beauty does not last. Success comes and goes.
Our true self-worth is much deeper and secure. It comes from a daily and prayerful awareness that I will always be precious to God, that I am a beloved son or daughter from whom God will never take away his love. It's been said, there is nothing you can do to make God love you less. Nor is there anything you can do to make God love you more. God's love for us is infinite and there is no more or less when it comes to infinity.
True humility can admit: I am not perfect. I am weak. I am not God, but I am beloved by God.
Ultimately true humility leads to gratitude. With it I can say: "I am nothing, but God has done great things for me. I am great in God's eyes so I don't need to prove anything to anyone." True humility can accept compliments and give the glory to God.
That's what the Blessed Virgin Mary did. According to Luke chapter 1, when Mary went to visit her kinswoman Elizabeth she was greeted with: "Most blessed are you among women." Mary accepted the praise and gave all credit and glory to God, saying, "Behold, from now on will all ages called me blessed. The Mighty One has done great things for me."
God has looked on all of us in our lowliness, our nothingness, and has done great things for us.
Showing posts with label Humility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Humility. Show all posts
Sunday, September 1, 2019
Sunday, January 29, 2017
Jesus' Secret of Happiness
What was Jesus’ reaction when he saw the crowds that followed
and gathered around him? According to
Matthew 9: 36, “at the sight of the crowds, his heart was moved with pity for
them because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd.” We have to imagine that Jesus had the same reaction before he preached the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5: 1-12a): “When he saw the crowds, he went up the mountain, and after he had sat down, his disciples came to him. He began to teach them….” He teaches them the Beatitudes. Jesus, whose heart is moved by the sight of the crowds, teaches his followers the secret of true happiness.
Pope Francis called the Beatitudes the “guide for the journey that leads us to the Kingdom of God” (see his daily meditation for June 6, 2016). They are “the ticket, the guide sheet for our life so as to avoid getting lost and losing ourselves.” Another translation of the word “blessed,” which introduces each of the Beatitudes, is “happy.” They are the “guide” and “ticket” to happiness, to the ultimate joy of heaven.
The Beatitudes are counter-cultural. The world has a very different plan for happiness and it leads to the opposite, to the loss of self. The world says you will find yourself and find happiness by making a name for yourself, rather than being “poor in spirit.” It says your happiness depends upon using other people for sexual pleasure, rather than being “clean of heart.” It says that if you are meek and merciful, people will step all over you.
While Pope Francis was reluctant to say that there was a “key” Beatitude, he did emphasize one in particular. It was “Blessed are the meek.” He said: “Meekness is a way of being that brings us very close to Jesus.” Why? Because after inviting people “who labor and are burdened” to come to him for rest, Jesus said: “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart” (Matthew 11: 28-29). Our hearts are closest to the Sacred Heart of Jesus when they are meek and humble.
The world thinks of meekness as weakness. The reality is that meekness comes from great inner strength. The meek and humble are secure in their identity and do not need to boast or to prove themselves.
In 1 Corinthians 1: 26-31, St. Paul writes against self-promotion and boasting. These really come from insecurity. People who promote themselves in front of others aren’t really sure of themselves and so they have to tell others that they are worthy of admiration and praise.
Jesus shows us a different approach. It’s humility. Humility isn’t self-depredation, putting oneself down. Sometimes people do this simply to elicit praise from others. Humility is truthful. It recognizes the truth that no one is a “self-made” person. Everything we are and have is the result of God’s goodness to us. We would be nothing had God not brought us into existence and given us the health and talents that have allowed us to acquire the possessions and relationships we have. God is the source of our life and gifts. All praise ought to go to God, not to ourselves. We can graciously acknowledge compliments but not rely on them for our sense of self-worth. Deep inside we know that all praise ultimately echoes to God’s glory.
Focusing on yourself leads to unhappiness. True humility is not thinking less of yourself (having a negative opinion of yourself, putting yourself down, beating yourself up), but rather, it is thinking of yourself less. As long as you are the center of your world and attention, you are not humble. When you put the focus on God and your neighbor, then happiness has breathing space in your life. The world says happiness is found in “getting.” The Peace Prayer, attributed to St. Francis, says that “it is in giving that we receive.”
When you focus on yourself your heart fills up with anxiety. You are either locked into the past, which cannot be changed, or anxious about the future. You look at the past with regret or sorrow or shame and you develop a negative attitude. Boasting about present success is like whistling in the dark to distract yourself from the fear that in the future you may not be so successful. And as you encounter weakness and even failure, your image of yourself plummets. You feel worthless and unappreciated.
Jesus reveals the secret of happiness. He was secure in the knowledge that he was the Beloved Son of God the Father who loved him with an infinite love. He had nothing to prove and no fear of the Father ever not loving him. He was secure in his identity and did not depend on what others thought of him. He had no need to impress people with his possessions or talents. This gave him great freedom and peace. It attracted crowds of people who followed him not only because he fed them with a miraculous multiplication of loaves and fish and not only because he healed them. They wanted to know the secret of his joy and vitality.
The “Spiritual Exercises” of St. Ignatius are designed to help us grow in the knowledge that we too are beloved sons and daughters of God the Father who loves us with an infinite love, as though each one of us were “the only one,” the sole focus of God’s attention. Knowing this love, we naturally want to love in return. As God has given all, we return all. Thus the “Exercises” culminate in St. Ignatius’ prayer known as the “Suscipe” in which we offer to God all we are and have, our memory and understanding and entire will. All that we ask is for God’s grace and love. With these we are rich enough and want nothing more.
St. Paul, in his Letter to the Romans 8: 38-39, shows that he understood the Beatitudes, the secret to true happiness. He wrote: “I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
Jesus concluded his teaching about what makes for true happiness by saying that even insults and persecution are not cause for sadness. Knowing God’s deep and intimate love for us frees us from being concerned about the opinions of others and their rejection. The only opinion that matters is not public opinion or even self-opinion but God’s opinion. And nothing can change that. Not even sin, for “God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us” (Romans 5: 8).
Pope Francis called the Beatitudes the “guide for the journey that leads us to the Kingdom of God” (see his daily meditation for June 6, 2016). They are “the ticket, the guide sheet for our life so as to avoid getting lost and losing ourselves.” Another translation of the word “blessed,” which introduces each of the Beatitudes, is “happy.” They are the “guide” and “ticket” to happiness, to the ultimate joy of heaven.
The Beatitudes are counter-cultural. The world has a very different plan for happiness and it leads to the opposite, to the loss of self. The world says you will find yourself and find happiness by making a name for yourself, rather than being “poor in spirit.” It says your happiness depends upon using other people for sexual pleasure, rather than being “clean of heart.” It says that if you are meek and merciful, people will step all over you.
While Pope Francis was reluctant to say that there was a “key” Beatitude, he did emphasize one in particular. It was “Blessed are the meek.” He said: “Meekness is a way of being that brings us very close to Jesus.” Why? Because after inviting people “who labor and are burdened” to come to him for rest, Jesus said: “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart” (Matthew 11: 28-29). Our hearts are closest to the Sacred Heart of Jesus when they are meek and humble.
The world thinks of meekness as weakness. The reality is that meekness comes from great inner strength. The meek and humble are secure in their identity and do not need to boast or to prove themselves.
In 1 Corinthians 1: 26-31, St. Paul writes against self-promotion and boasting. These really come from insecurity. People who promote themselves in front of others aren’t really sure of themselves and so they have to tell others that they are worthy of admiration and praise.
Jesus shows us a different approach. It’s humility. Humility isn’t self-depredation, putting oneself down. Sometimes people do this simply to elicit praise from others. Humility is truthful. It recognizes the truth that no one is a “self-made” person. Everything we are and have is the result of God’s goodness to us. We would be nothing had God not brought us into existence and given us the health and talents that have allowed us to acquire the possessions and relationships we have. God is the source of our life and gifts. All praise ought to go to God, not to ourselves. We can graciously acknowledge compliments but not rely on them for our sense of self-worth. Deep inside we know that all praise ultimately echoes to God’s glory.
Focusing on yourself leads to unhappiness. True humility is not thinking less of yourself (having a negative opinion of yourself, putting yourself down, beating yourself up), but rather, it is thinking of yourself less. As long as you are the center of your world and attention, you are not humble. When you put the focus on God and your neighbor, then happiness has breathing space in your life. The world says happiness is found in “getting.” The Peace Prayer, attributed to St. Francis, says that “it is in giving that we receive.”
When you focus on yourself your heart fills up with anxiety. You are either locked into the past, which cannot be changed, or anxious about the future. You look at the past with regret or sorrow or shame and you develop a negative attitude. Boasting about present success is like whistling in the dark to distract yourself from the fear that in the future you may not be so successful. And as you encounter weakness and even failure, your image of yourself plummets. You feel worthless and unappreciated.
Jesus reveals the secret of happiness. He was secure in the knowledge that he was the Beloved Son of God the Father who loved him with an infinite love. He had nothing to prove and no fear of the Father ever not loving him. He was secure in his identity and did not depend on what others thought of him. He had no need to impress people with his possessions or talents. This gave him great freedom and peace. It attracted crowds of people who followed him not only because he fed them with a miraculous multiplication of loaves and fish and not only because he healed them. They wanted to know the secret of his joy and vitality.
The “Spiritual Exercises” of St. Ignatius are designed to help us grow in the knowledge that we too are beloved sons and daughters of God the Father who loves us with an infinite love, as though each one of us were “the only one,” the sole focus of God’s attention. Knowing this love, we naturally want to love in return. As God has given all, we return all. Thus the “Exercises” culminate in St. Ignatius’ prayer known as the “Suscipe” in which we offer to God all we are and have, our memory and understanding and entire will. All that we ask is for God’s grace and love. With these we are rich enough and want nothing more.
St. Paul, in his Letter to the Romans 8: 38-39, shows that he understood the Beatitudes, the secret to true happiness. He wrote: “I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
Jesus concluded his teaching about what makes for true happiness by saying that even insults and persecution are not cause for sadness. Knowing God’s deep and intimate love for us frees us from being concerned about the opinions of others and their rejection. The only opinion that matters is not public opinion or even self-opinion but God’s opinion. And nothing can change that. Not even sin, for “God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us” (Romans 5: 8).
Tuesday, October 25, 2016
Prayer Pierces the Heavens
The readings
for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time Cycle C continue the theme of
prayer. In the first reading (Sirach 35:
12-14, 16-18) we read: “The one who serves God willingly is heard; his petition
reaches the heavens. The prayer of the lowly pierces the clouds; it does not
rest till it reaches its goal, nor will it withdraw till the Most High
responds….”
From time to
time I’ve been asked, “What’s the point of praying? If God know everything and
even knows what is in our hearts before we put words to our concerns and
desires, what’s the point of praying?
Our world is
obsessed with action. We tend to think
of prayer as a last resort. When practical
action appears to be impossible we say, “Well, I guess I’ll just pray.” “Just!?”
Is prayer a last resort rather than the first?
There is a
line attributed to both St. Augustine and to St. Ignatius Loyola. While the former may have written it, the
latter, I’m told by the Jesuit historian Fr. John Padberg, did not. In fact, St. Ignatius probably reversed the
order of the saying.
The saying
goes: “Pray as though everything depends on God and work as though everything
depends on you.”
It is good
to recognize when we pray that the Holy Spirit is the one who prays within us
(see Romans 8: 26-27). And it is good to
work hard. But the reverse of the
saying—“Pray as though everything depended on you and work as though everything
depended on God”—makes more sense.
In other
words, we should put time, effort, and energy into our prayer, praying as
though it’s up to us but knowing that grace is always a gift. And we should work in such a way that we
leave the results to God rather than thinking that our sheer effort will
accomplish things.
This is
where the Gospel (Luke: 18: 9-14) comes in.
The Pharisee congratulates himself on his works and goes away
unjustified, while the tax collector prays with humility and is said to go away
justified. The key, as we’ve heard in
previous Sundays’ Gospels, is humility.
The word
comes from “humus”—dust or earth.
Humility recognizes that I am not God, not in control, and cannot
overcome every obstacle by my own effort and hard work.
Humble or
lowly prayer surrenders to God who created us to share in the love of the
Trinity and the communion of all saints.
When we pray fervently and persistently, our prayer pierces the heavens
and opens a channel for God’s grace and mercy to enter the world. Like parents who show respect and love to
their children, inviting them to work alongside of them though they do not need
their help in assembling a toy or cooking a meal, God respects and loves us by
including us in the work of caring for creation and the human family.
Prayer is
not so much changing God’s mind as opening ourselves up to Trinitarian Love and
allowing God to transform us and work through us to transform the world.
Monday, October 3, 2016
Faith, Prayer, and Humility
The first
reading from Sunday’s Mass (Twenty-Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C) is
from the Prophet Habakkuk. As you read the words with which it begins, what
scene comes to mind?
“How long, O LORD? I cry for help but you do not listen! I
cry out to you, “Violence!” but you do not intervene. Why do you let me see
ruin; why must I look at misery? Destruction and violence are before me; there
is strife, and clamorous discord.”
What comes
to my mind is Aleppo, Syria. If you watch
the news or read the paper with any compassion a prayer must well up: “How
long, O Lord? Why?” We want God to intervene in this hopeless
situation of the Syrian civil war.
But God will
not intervene except through us. God won’t
force his plan or his will on humanity. God won’t take human freedom away.
God wants
human cooperation to fulfill his plan.
When Jesus walked this earth his hands were tied by people’s lack of
faith. According to Matthew 13: 58, when
Jesus returned to his native town of Nazareth, “he did not work many mighty
deeds there because of their lack of faith.”
The reading
from Habakkuk ends with a vision of justice and peace. Through the prophet God tells us to be
patient and to have faith.
In the
Gospel (Luke 17: 5-10), the apostles ask Jesus: “Increase our faith.” Jesus responds with an image of impossibility—that
faith the size of a small seed can uproot a tree and send it into the sea. Isn’t peace just as or more impossible? But faith and prayer can do the impossible.
God and the human person working together can bring about miracles no less
impossible as the displacement of trees.
One such
miracle was the survival of several Jesuits who were in Hiroshima at ground
zero when the first atomic bomb was dropped.
(See my blog post of August 6, 2016.)
Not only did they survive the initial blast but subsequently none of
them experienced the effects of radiation.
How was this possible? Fr. Hubert
Schiffer, S.J. said it was because they prayed the rosary and lived the message
of Fatima.
If you go to
Fatima today you will see the results of another miracle. There is a large piece of the Berlin Wall on
display. Why? It tells us that faith-filled prayer brought
down that wall and the Communism in Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union that it
represented. Faith and prayer can bring
down walls and change governments. It
can transform hardened hearts.
But in the
second part of the Gospel Jesus tells us that something else needs to accompany
faith. Perhaps it is an essential ingredient
of real faith. Humility. Humility recognizes one’s true
condition. We are not masters of
ourselves but servants of God. We cannot
trust in ourselves but only in God.
Humility is a foundational virtue because all the others—even charity,
which St. Paul called the greatest (1 Corinthians 13: 13)—can become a source
of pride that ultimately leads us to think that we are all-powerful and in
control.
Jesus shows
us the way of humility, “taking the form of a slave” (Philippians 2: 7),
bending down and washing feet (John 13: 1-16), and offering himself on a cross
for our salvation. His focus is not on
himself but on God the Father and God’s other human children. In the Eucharist he continues to humble
himself, making present his life-saving death and resurrection and then giving
himself to us under the humble appearances of bread and wine. In the Eucharist he invites us to sit and
dine while he serves us!
The vision
of peace is possible but its realization requires faith-filled prayer. The greatest prayer is the Eucharist where
Jesus gives himself to us to transform us.
Here we receive the Body and Blood, soul and divinity, including the
Sacred Heart, to tear down the walls that separate us and to transform our
hearts.
Tuesday, November 4, 2014
The Divine Struggle to be Human
St. Paul’s Letter to the Philippians 2: 5-11
contains an early Church hymn about the attitude of Jesus. Paul wanted the
people to whom he wrote to have this attitude. It is to be ours as well. This attitude—vision, way of proceeding,
value—is not the attitude of the world. It is not our human inclination. Our tendency is to want independence, power,
and control, in short, to be gods.
This was the original temptation according to the third chapter of Genesis. Our ancestral parents wondered whether God could really be trusted, whether it wouldn’t be better to be independent and in control, to have the power to determine for themselves good and bad, right and wrong. They chose, in the words of the song made popular by Frank Sinatra, to do it “my way” and not God’s way.
Jesus, on the contrary, shows us God’s way, a way that is very different. It is the way of surrender, of emptying, of humility, and obedience—all of which looks crazy in the eyes of the world. Jesus emptied himself, became a vulnerable human capable of suffering and dying.
Humility is truth. Humility means accepting the truth that I am not God, that I am “humus”—of the earth, dust, as we are reminded every Ash Wednesday. Therefore, in order to be happy and at peace, I must accept the truth rather than deny it or rebel against it. I must accept my nature as a vulnerable creature made of dust who is not ultimately in control. I will only be happy and fulfilled in so far as I accept the facts and allow God to be God of my life. Peace and joy will not be found in doing things “my way” but only in doing things “God’s way.” That’s obedience, an unpopular concept and word today. But it’s the way of Jesus.
What worked for Jesus will work for us. This means embracing my humanity and living in accord with nature, my human nature. Then, like Jesus, I will be raised to a glory beyond what our ancestral parents grasped at.
Theologians and Doctors of the early Church taught that God became human so that humanity could become divine. This truth is quietly repeated at every Mass when a few drops of water are poured into the chalice of wine at the Offertory: “By the mystery of this water and wine may we come to share in the divinity of Christ who humbled himself to share in our humanity.”
Some years ago I heard of an author who was writing a book with a very provocative title. I don’t know if he ever finished or if it was ever published. The title was “The Divine Struggle to be Human.” I’ve always thought of this title in light of the emptying described in Philippians 2 and of our own struggle. We tend to turn the words of the title around and to see life as “The Human Struggle to be Divine.” We, like our ancestral parents, grasp at power, control, independence, and equality with God. Jesus shows us that the true struggle is to embrace our humanity as he himself did. In doing so, we will be fulfilled. We will come to the union with God and the communion with all God’s children for which we were created.
And it begins right here on earth, at the Eucharist where we come with empty hands and receive the gift of divinity—the very Body and Blood of the one who humbled himself to become human and who continues to humble himself, giving himself to us under the humble appearance of bread and wine. We need not grasp. We need only to open our hands and hearts, empty them of everything, and receive.
This was the original temptation according to the third chapter of Genesis. Our ancestral parents wondered whether God could really be trusted, whether it wouldn’t be better to be independent and in control, to have the power to determine for themselves good and bad, right and wrong. They chose, in the words of the song made popular by Frank Sinatra, to do it “my way” and not God’s way.
Jesus, on the contrary, shows us God’s way, a way that is very different. It is the way of surrender, of emptying, of humility, and obedience—all of which looks crazy in the eyes of the world. Jesus emptied himself, became a vulnerable human capable of suffering and dying.
Humility is truth. Humility means accepting the truth that I am not God, that I am “humus”—of the earth, dust, as we are reminded every Ash Wednesday. Therefore, in order to be happy and at peace, I must accept the truth rather than deny it or rebel against it. I must accept my nature as a vulnerable creature made of dust who is not ultimately in control. I will only be happy and fulfilled in so far as I accept the facts and allow God to be God of my life. Peace and joy will not be found in doing things “my way” but only in doing things “God’s way.” That’s obedience, an unpopular concept and word today. But it’s the way of Jesus.
What worked for Jesus will work for us. This means embracing my humanity and living in accord with nature, my human nature. Then, like Jesus, I will be raised to a glory beyond what our ancestral parents grasped at.
Theologians and Doctors of the early Church taught that God became human so that humanity could become divine. This truth is quietly repeated at every Mass when a few drops of water are poured into the chalice of wine at the Offertory: “By the mystery of this water and wine may we come to share in the divinity of Christ who humbled himself to share in our humanity.”
Some years ago I heard of an author who was writing a book with a very provocative title. I don’t know if he ever finished or if it was ever published. The title was “The Divine Struggle to be Human.” I’ve always thought of this title in light of the emptying described in Philippians 2 and of our own struggle. We tend to turn the words of the title around and to see life as “The Human Struggle to be Divine.” We, like our ancestral parents, grasp at power, control, independence, and equality with God. Jesus shows us that the true struggle is to embrace our humanity as he himself did. In doing so, we will be fulfilled. We will come to the union with God and the communion with all God’s children for which we were created.
And it begins right here on earth, at the Eucharist where we come with empty hands and receive the gift of divinity—the very Body and Blood of the one who humbled himself to become human and who continues to humble himself, giving himself to us under the humble appearance of bread and wine. We need not grasp. We need only to open our hands and hearts, empty them of everything, and receive.
Sunday, October 27, 2013
Humble, Faith-filled Prayer
Today I celebrated Mass at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee Newman Center. Here is my homily for this Sunday when we hear the parable about two different kinds of prayer.
We have one more month left in the Year of Faith and today's readings are about faith and prayer.
In the gospel (Luke 18: 9-14) Jesus tells a parable about two men who went to the temple to pray.
Remember: a parable was a story that is intended to shock the listener into deeper reflection. This particular story of Jesus would certainly have shocked his listeners who would have thought that the Pharisee's prayer had been accepted while the tax collector's prayer had been rejected. After all, Pharisees scrupulously observed the Law of God and prayed and fasted and tithed, while tax collectors collaborated with the unjust and hated Roman occupation government and took some of the money they collected. They were dishonest and known as "public sinners."
Yet Jesus turns it all around. The tax collector leaves the temple "justified" while the Pharisee doesn't. The key to the difference is humility and faith.
The Pharisee has no humility and his faith is in himself. He is so proud of himself that, according to Jesus, his prayer is addressed "to himself." He congratulates himself on his virtuous life. He compares himself to the tax collector whom he puts him down. In speaking his prayer to himself, he has made himself a god.
The tax collector, on the other hand, has humility and has faith not in himself but in God to whom he addresses his prayer. He knows his need and he turns to God.
In the second reading (2 Timothy 4: 6-8, 16-18) St. Paul writes to his co-worker Timothy as he approaches his death. He declares: "I have kept the faith." It is not faith in himself or his own abilities but in God. We see that in a very clear way in two other letters of Paul.
In Romans 7 Paul writes about his interior conflict: "What I do, I do not understand. For I do not do what I want, but I do what I hate. ... So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells in me. ... The willing is ready at hand, but doing the good is not. For I do not do the good I want, but I do the evil I do not want." Remember: this is Paul writing after his profound conversion when he went from a proud Pharisee to an apostle of Jesus Christ. Then Paul, declaring his helplessness, gives praise to God his savior: "Miserable one that I am! Who will deliver me from this mortal body? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord."
In 2 Corinthians 12 we see once again the humility and faith of St. Paul. Having just written about someone who had been given great revelations, Paul makes it clear that he is talking about himself: "because of the abundance of the revelations ... that I might not become too proud, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, an angel of Satan, to beat me, to keep me from becoming too proud." We don't know what this thorn was. Some speculate it was a particular physical ailment that slowed Paul down in his missionary work and others think it was a particular moral struggle or temptation. At any rate, Paul didn't like it and thought that he would be a much better person and apostle without it. So he prays: "Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it might leave me...." The answer he received was "No." The Lord told Paul: "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness."
"Power is made perfect in weakness!" Tell that to the front line of the Green Bay Packers!
But God's ways are not our ways. The Lord is telling Paul that without this weakness, this struggle, he would become too proud and would rely upon himself. He would revert back to the ways of a Pharisee and would end up having faith in himself, praying to himself, and despising everyone else who didn't measure up to his own level of perfection. Paul's struggle brings him to his knees in humble prayer to God.
Our first reading (Sirach 35: 12-14, 16-18) says that "the prayer of the lowly pierces the cloud" and "reaches the heavens."
Sometimes people wonder what is the point of praying, of making petitions to God. Isn't God all-knowing and all-powerful? So what's the point of bringing our needs and desires to God who knows them before we articulate them and who can answer them if he wishes?
Two things actually limit God's power and both are related to the fact that God is Love.
First, God loves us and therefore invites us to collaborate with him. If we don't choose to do so, then we limit God's influence in the world. For example, in the gospels there are stories of how Jesus was unable to perform miracles in certain places because of the lack of faith. Faith-filled prayer opens a way for God's power and grace to enter the world.
But, this loving power and grace can never take away human freedom. That brings us to the second limit to God's power--human freedom. God loves his human children too much to take away their freedom and to force them to love him in return or to do his will. Our prayers for those who have left the practice of the faith or who are wandering in a self-destructive life style cannot force the person for whom we are praying to turn to God and change. They do not take away the person's freedom.
What about praying for good things that both we and the person for whom we are praying desire? Like good health and healing. Sometimes it seems God does not answer those prayers. It seems so but isn't so. God answers every prayer but sometimes the answer that is given is the one St. Paul received when he asked God to take away his weakness. Sometimes it's the answer Jesus received in a garden called Gethsemane when he prayed that the cup of his suffering and death would be removed.
God sees the bigger picture and God's ways are not our human ways. God saved the world through weakness which revealed a power greater than mere human power. Helpless, nailed to a cross, the Son of God revealed the power of divine love which took away the sins of the world and destroyed death.
The celebration of the Eucharist declares our faith in that power. We remember how God saved the world: not through brutal force and violent power, but through a weakness greater than human strength. We celebrate and make present the power of love revealed on a cross. Such a celebration calls forth from us humility and faith. This is our greatest humble and faith-filled prayer.
We have one more month left in the Year of Faith and today's readings are about faith and prayer.
In the gospel (Luke 18: 9-14) Jesus tells a parable about two men who went to the temple to pray.
Yet Jesus turns it all around. The tax collector leaves the temple "justified" while the Pharisee doesn't. The key to the difference is humility and faith.
The Pharisee has no humility and his faith is in himself. He is so proud of himself that, according to Jesus, his prayer is addressed "to himself." He congratulates himself on his virtuous life. He compares himself to the tax collector whom he puts him down. In speaking his prayer to himself, he has made himself a god.
The tax collector, on the other hand, has humility and has faith not in himself but in God to whom he addresses his prayer. He knows his need and he turns to God.
In the second reading (2 Timothy 4: 6-8, 16-18) St. Paul writes to his co-worker Timothy as he approaches his death. He declares: "I have kept the faith." It is not faith in himself or his own abilities but in God. We see that in a very clear way in two other letters of Paul.
In Romans 7 Paul writes about his interior conflict: "What I do, I do not understand. For I do not do what I want, but I do what I hate. ... So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells in me. ... The willing is ready at hand, but doing the good is not. For I do not do the good I want, but I do the evil I do not want." Remember: this is Paul writing after his profound conversion when he went from a proud Pharisee to an apostle of Jesus Christ. Then Paul, declaring his helplessness, gives praise to God his savior: "Miserable one that I am! Who will deliver me from this mortal body? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord."
In 2 Corinthians 12 we see once again the humility and faith of St. Paul. Having just written about someone who had been given great revelations, Paul makes it clear that he is talking about himself: "because of the abundance of the revelations ... that I might not become too proud, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, an angel of Satan, to beat me, to keep me from becoming too proud." We don't know what this thorn was. Some speculate it was a particular physical ailment that slowed Paul down in his missionary work and others think it was a particular moral struggle or temptation. At any rate, Paul didn't like it and thought that he would be a much better person and apostle without it. So he prays: "Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it might leave me...." The answer he received was "No." The Lord told Paul: "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness."
"Power is made perfect in weakness!" Tell that to the front line of the Green Bay Packers!
But God's ways are not our ways. The Lord is telling Paul that without this weakness, this struggle, he would become too proud and would rely upon himself. He would revert back to the ways of a Pharisee and would end up having faith in himself, praying to himself, and despising everyone else who didn't measure up to his own level of perfection. Paul's struggle brings him to his knees in humble prayer to God.
Our first reading (Sirach 35: 12-14, 16-18) says that "the prayer of the lowly pierces the cloud" and "reaches the heavens."
Sometimes people wonder what is the point of praying, of making petitions to God. Isn't God all-knowing and all-powerful? So what's the point of bringing our needs and desires to God who knows them before we articulate them and who can answer them if he wishes?
Two things actually limit God's power and both are related to the fact that God is Love.
First, God loves us and therefore invites us to collaborate with him. If we don't choose to do so, then we limit God's influence in the world. For example, in the gospels there are stories of how Jesus was unable to perform miracles in certain places because of the lack of faith. Faith-filled prayer opens a way for God's power and grace to enter the world.
But, this loving power and grace can never take away human freedom. That brings us to the second limit to God's power--human freedom. God loves his human children too much to take away their freedom and to force them to love him in return or to do his will. Our prayers for those who have left the practice of the faith or who are wandering in a self-destructive life style cannot force the person for whom we are praying to turn to God and change. They do not take away the person's freedom.
What about praying for good things that both we and the person for whom we are praying desire? Like good health and healing. Sometimes it seems God does not answer those prayers. It seems so but isn't so. God answers every prayer but sometimes the answer that is given is the one St. Paul received when he asked God to take away his weakness. Sometimes it's the answer Jesus received in a garden called Gethsemane when he prayed that the cup of his suffering and death would be removed.
God sees the bigger picture and God's ways are not our human ways. God saved the world through weakness which revealed a power greater than mere human power. Helpless, nailed to a cross, the Son of God revealed the power of divine love which took away the sins of the world and destroyed death.
The celebration of the Eucharist declares our faith in that power. We remember how God saved the world: not through brutal force and violent power, but through a weakness greater than human strength. We celebrate and make present the power of love revealed on a cross. Such a celebration calls forth from us humility and faith. This is our greatest humble and faith-filled prayer.
Saturday, August 3, 2013
Self-love
The theme of this month's All-Night Vigil in the Milwaukee Archdiocese was "The Imitation of Christ." I had the second talk at 11 last night. The topic was from Chapter 27 of Book III of this classic work of Christian spirituality: "Self-love is the greatest hindrance to the highest good."
Isn't "self-love" good? Shouldn't we love ourselves? God loves us with an infinite love and shouldn't we love what God loves?
Yes, but our whole notion of love is warped. We love what or who makes us feel good, what gives us pleasure. This notion of love is the opposite of true love because it's all about ME. It's all about "getting" rather than "giving."
Behind the original temptation and sin was this self-focus. Our ancestral parents were tempted by the Enemy to stop thinking about God and to focus all their attention on themselves. "Can you really trust God? Wouldn't it be better to have more control of your life? Then you wouldn't have to bother God. You could be more independent, more in charge. Why, you could be gods yourselves and then you wouldn't ever have to fear that God wouldn't be there for you!"
Our parents gave in to that seductive line of reasoning and the consequence was immediate. They became totally self-conscious. They felt shame in each other's presence. They hid from each other, covering themselves, and they hid from God. As the story goes, God came looking for them so that they might take their daily walk during the breezy time of the day. He called out to them. Adam answered: "I heard you in the garden; but I was afraid, because I was naked, so I hid myself (Genesis: 3:10). In that short response, the man refers to himself five times. The world now revolves around him. He is the center of his universe, of his consciousness. It's as though the great internal spotlight of his thoughts and concerns has turned away from God and his wife and turned entirely in on himself.
This is not "self-love." His choice led to "self-slavery" and ultimately "self-hate." Jesus came to save us from this. Rather than grasping at equality with God the Father, Jesus "emptied himself, ... he humbled himself" (Philippians 2:6-8).
We have an expression for a proud man. We say, "he's full of himself." Jesus emptied himself to be filled, not with himself and his ego, but with the love of the Father for him and with love for all God's children. He taught us the secret of happiness which much of the world does not comprehend: in losing ourselves, we find ourselves. Or as the Peace Prayer attributed to St. Francis of Assisi goes: "it is in giving that we receive."
This is true love of self and it leads to the highest good, that for which every human person was created: love of God and union with God, and love of neighbor or the communion of saints. Jesus shows us the way. He shows us that in giving all, we receive all. The first words of this chapter from "The Imitation of Christ" are "you must give all for all."
A geography lesson can help us here. The Jordan River flows south from mountains in Syria. It flows into the Sea of Galilee, a body of water filled with life, where Jesus and his apostles fished. The water flows into the north end of the sea and out the other end, continuing its journey south to the Dead Sea where its journey ends. The Dead Sea has no outlet. It receives the water of the Jordan River but does not give it away. Instead, the water sits and stagnates. There is no life there.
Our lives are like that. If we hold on to love and focus all our attention on ourselves, we stagnate and die. If we lose ourselves in the love of God and neighbor, giving without counting the cost, we find life. Only empty hands are able to be filled.
Isn't "self-love" good? Shouldn't we love ourselves? God loves us with an infinite love and shouldn't we love what God loves?
Yes, but our whole notion of love is warped. We love what or who makes us feel good, what gives us pleasure. This notion of love is the opposite of true love because it's all about ME. It's all about "getting" rather than "giving."
Behind the original temptation and sin was this self-focus. Our ancestral parents were tempted by the Enemy to stop thinking about God and to focus all their attention on themselves. "Can you really trust God? Wouldn't it be better to have more control of your life? Then you wouldn't have to bother God. You could be more independent, more in charge. Why, you could be gods yourselves and then you wouldn't ever have to fear that God wouldn't be there for you!"
Our parents gave in to that seductive line of reasoning and the consequence was immediate. They became totally self-conscious. They felt shame in each other's presence. They hid from each other, covering themselves, and they hid from God. As the story goes, God came looking for them so that they might take their daily walk during the breezy time of the day. He called out to them. Adam answered: "I heard you in the garden; but I was afraid, because I was naked, so I hid myself (Genesis: 3:10). In that short response, the man refers to himself five times. The world now revolves around him. He is the center of his universe, of his consciousness. It's as though the great internal spotlight of his thoughts and concerns has turned away from God and his wife and turned entirely in on himself.
This is not "self-love." His choice led to "self-slavery" and ultimately "self-hate." Jesus came to save us from this. Rather than grasping at equality with God the Father, Jesus "emptied himself, ... he humbled himself" (Philippians 2:6-8).
We have an expression for a proud man. We say, "he's full of himself." Jesus emptied himself to be filled, not with himself and his ego, but with the love of the Father for him and with love for all God's children. He taught us the secret of happiness which much of the world does not comprehend: in losing ourselves, we find ourselves. Or as the Peace Prayer attributed to St. Francis of Assisi goes: "it is in giving that we receive."
This is true love of self and it leads to the highest good, that for which every human person was created: love of God and union with God, and love of neighbor or the communion of saints. Jesus shows us the way. He shows us that in giving all, we receive all. The first words of this chapter from "The Imitation of Christ" are "you must give all for all."
A geography lesson can help us here. The Jordan River flows south from mountains in Syria. It flows into the Sea of Galilee, a body of water filled with life, where Jesus and his apostles fished. The water flows into the north end of the sea and out the other end, continuing its journey south to the Dead Sea where its journey ends. The Dead Sea has no outlet. It receives the water of the Jordan River but does not give it away. Instead, the water sits and stagnates. There is no life there.
Our lives are like that. If we hold on to love and focus all our attention on ourselves, we stagnate and die. If we lose ourselves in the love of God and neighbor, giving without counting the cost, we find life. Only empty hands are able to be filled.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Meek and Humble of Heart
Today's Gospel is one in which Jesus explicitly describes his heart. It's from Matthew 11: 28-30 and goes like this:
Meekness does not mean being a doormat for everyone in the world to walk upon. Humility does not mean thinking of oneself as the worst or lowest.
One of my favorite meditation books is an updated four-volume series published by Ignatius Press, written by Carmelite Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, entitled Divine Intimacy. In volume 3, writing about the Sacred Heart of Jesus, Fr. Gabriel explains what it means to be meek and humble and how they lead to peace. Here are some excerpts which I've taken the liberty to paraphrase a bit:
Jesus fulfilled his mission as savior especially through meekness and self-sacrifice. This was the meekness he proposed to his disciples as the condition for interior peace. Too often people lose their peace of heart and consequently disturb the peace of their relationships with others because they let anger agitate them. Jesus proposes gentleness as a condition for doing good and for winning over our brothers and sisters to God. Violence convinces no one, rather it turns away and hardens hearts; while meekness bends and saves.
Christ, "gentle of heart," does not avoid the fight when the glory of the Father and people's salvation are at stake. He welcomes sinners with infinite kindness, but he openly condemns sin, especially pride, hypocrisy, and hardness of heart. He also uses strong language and forceful actions like that against those who were profaning the temple.
Jesus' meekness is the remedy for our wrath and anger, and for our violence and intolerance. Meekness soothes life's sufferings and disposes us to accept the will of God and to abandon ourselves into his hands in times of tribulation.
Jesus was meek because he was humble: he did not seek to assert himself, nor to be applauded, neither did he pursue his own glory, but desired only the honor and glory of the kingdom of the Father; his one aim was to accomplish the mission entrusted to him in total dedication to the salvation of humanity. We are not meek, because we are not humble, and even in performing good works, we do not know how to renounce our affirmation of self to its very core. Jesus was essentially humble because he acknowledged and fully lived his dependence on the Father. We are not humble because we are not fully conscious of our total dependence on God; although we may be convinced of it in theory, we are not so convinced in practice, but are always, to a greater or less extent, escaping from the service of God to serve ourselves, our own pride and self-love.
These thoughts of Fr. Gabriel challenge me to find my identity as Jesus did: to know myself as a beloved son of the Father who loves me with an infinite love. Knowing this in a deeper way one day and a time, I will be secure and at peace and ultimately untroubled by the ups and downs of the events of daily life.
Fr. Gabriel closed his reflection with a prayer from St. Margaret Mary:
O Jesus, permit me to enter your Heart as I would a school. In this school teach me the science of the saints, the science of pure love. O good Master, I shall listen attentively to your words: "Learn of me for I am gentle and humble of heart, and you will find rest for your souls."
Jesus said:
“Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened,
and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you and learn from me,
for I am meek and humble of heart;
and you will find rest for yourselves.
For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.”
Meekness and humility are not valued in the world. Our entertainment and sports-driven world glorify being on top, being #1, not giving way to others. How can the "rest" that Jesus promises to the "meek and humble of heart" be real? How does being meek and humble lead to peace?“Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened,
and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you and learn from me,
for I am meek and humble of heart;
and you will find rest for yourselves.
For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.”
Meekness does not mean being a doormat for everyone in the world to walk upon. Humility does not mean thinking of oneself as the worst or lowest.
One of my favorite meditation books is an updated four-volume series published by Ignatius Press, written by Carmelite Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, entitled Divine Intimacy. In volume 3, writing about the Sacred Heart of Jesus, Fr. Gabriel explains what it means to be meek and humble and how they lead to peace. Here are some excerpts which I've taken the liberty to paraphrase a bit:
Jesus fulfilled his mission as savior especially through meekness and self-sacrifice. This was the meekness he proposed to his disciples as the condition for interior peace. Too often people lose their peace of heart and consequently disturb the peace of their relationships with others because they let anger agitate them. Jesus proposes gentleness as a condition for doing good and for winning over our brothers and sisters to God. Violence convinces no one, rather it turns away and hardens hearts; while meekness bends and saves.
Christ, "gentle of heart," does not avoid the fight when the glory of the Father and people's salvation are at stake. He welcomes sinners with infinite kindness, but he openly condemns sin, especially pride, hypocrisy, and hardness of heart. He also uses strong language and forceful actions like that against those who were profaning the temple.
Jesus' meekness is the remedy for our wrath and anger, and for our violence and intolerance. Meekness soothes life's sufferings and disposes us to accept the will of God and to abandon ourselves into his hands in times of tribulation.
Jesus was meek because he was humble: he did not seek to assert himself, nor to be applauded, neither did he pursue his own glory, but desired only the honor and glory of the kingdom of the Father; his one aim was to accomplish the mission entrusted to him in total dedication to the salvation of humanity. We are not meek, because we are not humble, and even in performing good works, we do not know how to renounce our affirmation of self to its very core. Jesus was essentially humble because he acknowledged and fully lived his dependence on the Father. We are not humble because we are not fully conscious of our total dependence on God; although we may be convinced of it in theory, we are not so convinced in practice, but are always, to a greater or less extent, escaping from the service of God to serve ourselves, our own pride and self-love.
These thoughts of Fr. Gabriel challenge me to find my identity as Jesus did: to know myself as a beloved son of the Father who loves me with an infinite love. Knowing this in a deeper way one day and a time, I will be secure and at peace and ultimately untroubled by the ups and downs of the events of daily life.
Fr. Gabriel closed his reflection with a prayer from St. Margaret Mary:
O Jesus, permit me to enter your Heart as I would a school. In this school teach me the science of the saints, the science of pure love. O good Master, I shall listen attentively to your words: "Learn of me for I am gentle and humble of heart, and you will find rest for your souls."
Friday, May 31, 2013
Happy Solemnity of the Visitation!
For most of the world, today is the Feast of the Visitation, but here, at the Toledo Visitation Monastery, it's a Solemnity, the highest rank for liturgical celebrations. Thus besides singing the Gloria at Mass today we also prayed the Creed and at the end of Mass had a special Papal Blessing. That's because this is the patronal feast of the Visitation Order. Writing about the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary to her cousin Elizabeth, Wendy Wright captures well the spirit of the Visitation Sisters. The following passage from her book Heart Speaks to Heart: The Salesian Tradition speaks of the place that the mystery of the Visitation held for the founders, St. Jane Frances de Chantal and St. Francis de Sales:
"It was the Virgin, dear to Jane's own heart since childhood, who was the patroness of the fledgling foundation. And it was the biblical image of Mary's visit to her cousin Elizabeth (Luke 1:39-56) that summarized in iconic fashion the spirit of the new congregation. The mystery of the Visitation for Jane and Francis summed up all the Christian mysteries, and as such it was first and foremost a mystery that expressed the dynamics of love. ... Since love wants to be shared, it likes to visit. Indeed, the mystery of the Incarnation, captured in the biblical scene of the Annunciation, was seen as God's 'kiss' to humanity, God's loving union with humankind through Mary, the spouse and lover. ... Having been visited and prompted, Mary in her turn recapitulates this loving dynamic: she hastens to the hill country and the house of her cousin Elizabeth. There, these two pregnant women meet--one older, long barren and now expecting, the other young and ripe with Love's own longing for the world" (pp. 52-3).
Two hallmarks of the spirituality of the Visitation are humility and gentleness. God visited Mary with humility and gentleness as the Holy Spirit overshadowed her. Divine humility and gentleness are seen in how God comes to us: not with an army of angels to force the divine plan of love on the world, but as a tiny baby to attract and invite humanity's loving response.
I've often said that humility is not thinking less of oneself but thinking of oneself less. It's not putting oneself down but taking the attention off oneself. We see this in Mary after the Annunciation. She does not think of herself but of her elderly cousin and so she races to her. At their meeting, Elizabeth praises Mary as "most blessed ... among women." Mary accepts this praise, recognizing that "all generations will call me blessed," but then she humbly gives credit where credit is due saying, "the Almighty has done great things for me." True humility is truthful and it involves getting the focus off oneself and onto God and neighbor.
Mary carried Jesus to Elizabeth. In doing so she was, as Blessed John Paul II put it, "the first tabernacle in history." He wrote the following in his last encyclical: "When, at the Visitation, she bore in her womb the Word made flesh, she became in some way a “tabernacle” – the first “tabernacle” in history – in which the Son of God, still invisible to our human gaze, allowed himself to be adored by Elizabeth, radiating his light as it were through the eyes and the voice of Mary."
Pope John Paul also wrote that Mary's "Fiat" at the Annunciation--"let it be done to me according to your word"--is echoed in the "Amen" spoken when we receive Holy Communion. In the Eucharist we receive the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ into ourselves. He joins Himself to us in an intimate union in which the two become one flesh (see Ephesians 5: 31-2). In that sense we too, one with the Body of Christ, become tabernacles carrying Christ into the world. We become "monstrances" who radiate His light through our eyes and voices.
But it takes great humility to do this. It means, in the words of St. John the Baptist, "He must increase; I must decrease" (John 3: 30). This is the goal of every Christian and the Visitation Sisters embody this ideal in a special way for us.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Humility and Listening
I'm in the middle of a parish mission at St. Susanna's Church in Penn Hills, PA, a suburb of Pittsburgh, a place I've never been. I was able to get together yesterday with a friend of mine whom I hadn't seen in nine years. We had lunch and a quick tour of a beautiful city built on rivers and hills and which I imagine is even more beautiful when the trees are filled with leaves. Spring is more advanced here than in Wisconsin and I saw my first robins of the season yesterday.
The focus of the mission is the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the talks over the four days are: "The True Love Story," "Our Response to God's Love," "Living our Response One Day at a Time," and "Meeting the Merciful Heart of Jesus."
I used a story from Fr. Larry Richards at Mass today. It involves two people chatting when the phone rings. One gets up to answer it and immediately begins talking: "Oh, hello. I'm so glad you called. Say... could you help me out. I've got some health issues that are getting me down and I'm really worried about having to have surgery. And then there are my finances, you know, how with the economy and with gas prices rising, it's really hard to make ends meet. And then there's my son who's been unemployed now for two years and had to move back home and you know how tough that can be having an adult child back home after he's been away, on his own for a while. It's pretty stressful at times. And then my daughter could really use some help getting accepted into the program that she's trying to get into at the university. It's really competitive and her grades haven't been the best but she's a really good person and I think she'd really be able to help people a lot someday. Oh, and then there's my neighbor. Man is he cranky and I just wish he would lighten up a bit and not make such a big deal about where the lot line is and who's supposed to be cutting what grass. So if you could help me out I'd really appreciate it. Thanks and bye for now...."
The other asks: "Who was that?"
"That? Oh, that was God."
"Well, what did He want?"
"Uh, I don't know."
The obvious point of Fr. Richards' story (with which I've taken some liberties in relating) is that much of our prayer can be talking to God and asking for help but never really listening or hearing what God wants.
The readings at Mass today (2 Kings 5: 1-15 and Luke 4: 24-30) show people who have agenda and ideas that get in the way of listening. Naaman's agenda is that the rivers of his own country are much better than the Jordan. He refuses to bathe in the Jordan until his servants convince him to do so. He listens and follows their advice and is healed of his leprosy. Similarly, the people of Jesus' hometown of Nazareth have preconceived ideas about Him and refuse to believe that He is a prophet, much less the messiah. They refuse to listen to Him and Jesus moves on from there.
It takes humility to listen, to let go of our own agenda and ideas. Humility is not thinking less of yourself but thinking of yourself less. Humility means taking the focus off oneself and putting it on God and others. God wants us to share what is on our mind and what we need. But we must always be ready to stop talking and start listening to God as He speaks to us in the silence of prayer and through people who, like Naaman's servants, care for us.
The focus of the mission is the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the talks over the four days are: "The True Love Story," "Our Response to God's Love," "Living our Response One Day at a Time," and "Meeting the Merciful Heart of Jesus."
I used a story from Fr. Larry Richards at Mass today. It involves two people chatting when the phone rings. One gets up to answer it and immediately begins talking: "Oh, hello. I'm so glad you called. Say... could you help me out. I've got some health issues that are getting me down and I'm really worried about having to have surgery. And then there are my finances, you know, how with the economy and with gas prices rising, it's really hard to make ends meet. And then there's my son who's been unemployed now for two years and had to move back home and you know how tough that can be having an adult child back home after he's been away, on his own for a while. It's pretty stressful at times. And then my daughter could really use some help getting accepted into the program that she's trying to get into at the university. It's really competitive and her grades haven't been the best but she's a really good person and I think she'd really be able to help people a lot someday. Oh, and then there's my neighbor. Man is he cranky and I just wish he would lighten up a bit and not make such a big deal about where the lot line is and who's supposed to be cutting what grass. So if you could help me out I'd really appreciate it. Thanks and bye for now...."
The other asks: "Who was that?"
"That? Oh, that was God."
"Well, what did He want?"
"Uh, I don't know."
The obvious point of Fr. Richards' story (with which I've taken some liberties in relating) is that much of our prayer can be talking to God and asking for help but never really listening or hearing what God wants.
The readings at Mass today (2 Kings 5: 1-15 and Luke 4: 24-30) show people who have agenda and ideas that get in the way of listening. Naaman's agenda is that the rivers of his own country are much better than the Jordan. He refuses to bathe in the Jordan until his servants convince him to do so. He listens and follows their advice and is healed of his leprosy. Similarly, the people of Jesus' hometown of Nazareth have preconceived ideas about Him and refuse to believe that He is a prophet, much less the messiah. They refuse to listen to Him and Jesus moves on from there.
It takes humility to listen, to let go of our own agenda and ideas. Humility is not thinking less of yourself but thinking of yourself less. Humility means taking the focus off oneself and putting it on God and others. God wants us to share what is on our mind and what we need. But we must always be ready to stop talking and start listening to God as He speaks to us in the silence of prayer and through people who, like Naaman's servants, care for us.
Friday, September 2, 2011
Humility
Tonight I'll be speaking at the monthly All-Night Vigil in the Archdiocese of Milwaukee. The theme is "Humility and Obedience" and the topic I've been given is "Humility."
In Matthew 23: 12 Jesus says: "Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, but whoever humbles himself will be exalted." This is a paradox that once again shows us God's ways are not ours. Humility leads to exaltation? Becoming low leads to being raised up? This is clearly not the way of the world.
Humility is about truth, about accepting the truth that I am a creature. The root of humility is the Latin word "humus" or earth. I am of the earth. Without God, I am nothing. This is reality.
But we, like our ancestral parents, tend to avoid and deny reality. The Original Sin and in fact every sin is a denial of the fact that we are creatures. As Adam and Eve chose to be "like gods" who choose for themselves what is good and what is bad (Genesis 3: 5), so do we, when we sin, try to do things our way rather than God's way. We grasp, as our first parents did, at equality with God.
The result was immediate: "the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized that they were naked" (Genesis 3: 7). They became self-conscious, self-centered. Their focus became "ME - ME - ME." Just count the number of times Adam refers to himself in the short response to God's question "Where are you?" He said: "I heard you in the garden; but I was afraid, because I was naked, so I hid myself."
The antidote to this self-centeredness is humility. The best definition of humility that I've heard is this: Humility is not thinking less of yourself but thinking of yourself less. It's not putting yourself down and beating yourself up but getting yourself out of your self-conscious spotlight.
Jesus, who said "I am meek and humble of heart" (Matthew 11: 29), is the best example of this. He was not self-centered. Philippians 2: 6-9 says that Jesus, "though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness, ... he humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross. Because of this, God greatly exalted him...."
Jesus emptied himself of himself, of any self-consciousness. He was so other-conscious--conscious of both the Father and his brothers and sisters--that there was no internal spotlight focused on himself. What made him so unself-conscious? His relationship with the Father. He was so firm in his identity as the Beloved Son that he had nothing to prove. As a result, people flocked to him and wanted to know the secret of his happiness and peace.
We are called to be like Jesus. Every Lent we enter into a period designed to lead us through a process of conversion in which we die to ourselves in order to live more like Jesus. We begin Lent by getting in touch with reality. Ashes are put on our heads and we are told that we are dust, "humus," earth, nothing really. We are dust that is alive for a while but that will return to dust once again.
But remember where Lent ends--with Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter. We are precious dust. To God, we are precious enough to die for, precious enough to be given the very Body and Blood of the Son, precious enough to be raised up as Jesus himself was. In God's eyes we are special, we are important.
Thus there is no need to "grasp at equality with God" like our ancestral parents. There is no need to exalt ourselves. Firm in our identity as Jesus was, we know there is nothing we need to prove, there is no need to exalt ourselves, no need to look good in front of others. We can get the spotlight off ourselves and focus all our attention on our God and our neighbors and in doing so we will find true happiness and peace.
In Matthew 23: 12 Jesus says: "Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, but whoever humbles himself will be exalted." This is a paradox that once again shows us God's ways are not ours. Humility leads to exaltation? Becoming low leads to being raised up? This is clearly not the way of the world.
Humility is about truth, about accepting the truth that I am a creature. The root of humility is the Latin word "humus" or earth. I am of the earth. Without God, I am nothing. This is reality.
But we, like our ancestral parents, tend to avoid and deny reality. The Original Sin and in fact every sin is a denial of the fact that we are creatures. As Adam and Eve chose to be "like gods" who choose for themselves what is good and what is bad (Genesis 3: 5), so do we, when we sin, try to do things our way rather than God's way. We grasp, as our first parents did, at equality with God.
The result was immediate: "the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized that they were naked" (Genesis 3: 7). They became self-conscious, self-centered. Their focus became "ME - ME - ME." Just count the number of times Adam refers to himself in the short response to God's question "Where are you?" He said: "I heard you in the garden; but I was afraid, because I was naked, so I hid myself."
The antidote to this self-centeredness is humility. The best definition of humility that I've heard is this: Humility is not thinking less of yourself but thinking of yourself less. It's not putting yourself down and beating yourself up but getting yourself out of your self-conscious spotlight.
Jesus, who said "I am meek and humble of heart" (Matthew 11: 29), is the best example of this. He was not self-centered. Philippians 2: 6-9 says that Jesus, "though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness, ... he humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross. Because of this, God greatly exalted him...."
Jesus emptied himself of himself, of any self-consciousness. He was so other-conscious--conscious of both the Father and his brothers and sisters--that there was no internal spotlight focused on himself. What made him so unself-conscious? His relationship with the Father. He was so firm in his identity as the Beloved Son that he had nothing to prove. As a result, people flocked to him and wanted to know the secret of his happiness and peace.
We are called to be like Jesus. Every Lent we enter into a period designed to lead us through a process of conversion in which we die to ourselves in order to live more like Jesus. We begin Lent by getting in touch with reality. Ashes are put on our heads and we are told that we are dust, "humus," earth, nothing really. We are dust that is alive for a while but that will return to dust once again.
But remember where Lent ends--with Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter. We are precious dust. To God, we are precious enough to die for, precious enough to be given the very Body and Blood of the Son, precious enough to be raised up as Jesus himself was. In God's eyes we are special, we are important.
Thus there is no need to "grasp at equality with God" like our ancestral parents. There is no need to exalt ourselves. Firm in our identity as Jesus was, we know there is nothing we need to prove, there is no need to exalt ourselves, no need to look good in front of others. We can get the spotlight off ourselves and focus all our attention on our God and our neighbors and in doing so we will find true happiness and peace.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Mistaken Identity?
My good Jesuit friend Fr. Rob Kroll, who writes periodically for the Magis Institute, had a good reflection on today's first reading (Acts 14: 5-18):
We live in a culture that idolizes Hollywood stars graced with beautiful faces, athletes endowed with muscular bodies, rock stars showered with fame and fortune, and politicians wielding power. The attraction of beauty, fame, wealth, and power-and the desire to worship individuals possessing them-has existed in all societies and epochs, of course. The great temptation of the "rich and famous" is that they allow the adulation of the masses to go to their heads. They forget the divine source of all their gifts, and become puffed up with pride. Treated like gods by others, they begin to think themselves gods.
In today's reading from Acts, the crowds in Lystra seek to idolize Paul and Barnabas, worshiping them as gods after they heal a man crippled from birth. How might Donald Trump, Moammar Gadhafi, or Charlie Sheen respond if their supporters cried out like the Lycaonians, "The gods have come down to us in human form"? Fortunately Barnabas and Paul tear their garments and direct the crowds to the living God, humbly asserting that they themselves are mere mortals.
Each of us, too, can be tempted to pride. We might secretly aspire to be worshipped in some measure by others for our wealth, power, beauty, and talents-perhaps even our holiness! Let's remember today that all good gifts come from God and are to be used for His greater glory. May we humbly make the psalmist's words our own: "Not to us, O Lord, not to us but to your name give glory" (115:1).
I preached about this a little differently at the Jesuit retreat house in the St. Louis area where I began a retreat with 34 women this afternoon. The people of Lystra mistake Paul and Barnabas for "gods" because they see something of the divine in them. They perceive grace or supernatural power at work in and through them. This is how it should be for all of us.
As images of God we should reflect God to the world. As members of the Body of Christ, people should see Christ in us. I'm reminded of a song by the contemporary Christian musician Warren Barfield, "Mistaken." It brings these two reflections--Fr. Kroll's and mine--together. Here are a few of the lyrics:
Oh the more and more I disappear
The more and more He becomes clear
'Til everyone I talk to hears His voice
And everything I touch feels the warmth of His hand
'Til everyone I meet
Sees Jesus in me
This is all I wanna be
I wanna be mistaken
For Jesus
Do they only see who we are
When who we are should be pointing them to Christ
Cause we are who He chose to use
To spread the news
Of the way the truth and the life
Oh I want all I am to die
So all He is can come alive
This is the great mystery of the Christian life. In being emptied of ourselves we are filled with our truest, deepest self--Christ. We can say with St. Paul, "I have been crucified with Christ; yet I live, no longer I, but Christ lives in me" (Galatians 2: 19-20). In dying to ourselves we are born to real life.
We live in a culture that idolizes Hollywood stars graced with beautiful faces, athletes endowed with muscular bodies, rock stars showered with fame and fortune, and politicians wielding power. The attraction of beauty, fame, wealth, and power-and the desire to worship individuals possessing them-has existed in all societies and epochs, of course. The great temptation of the "rich and famous" is that they allow the adulation of the masses to go to their heads. They forget the divine source of all their gifts, and become puffed up with pride. Treated like gods by others, they begin to think themselves gods.
In today's reading from Acts, the crowds in Lystra seek to idolize Paul and Barnabas, worshiping them as gods after they heal a man crippled from birth. How might Donald Trump, Moammar Gadhafi, or Charlie Sheen respond if their supporters cried out like the Lycaonians, "The gods have come down to us in human form"? Fortunately Barnabas and Paul tear their garments and direct the crowds to the living God, humbly asserting that they themselves are mere mortals.
Each of us, too, can be tempted to pride. We might secretly aspire to be worshipped in some measure by others for our wealth, power, beauty, and talents-perhaps even our holiness! Let's remember today that all good gifts come from God and are to be used for His greater glory. May we humbly make the psalmist's words our own: "Not to us, O Lord, not to us but to your name give glory" (115:1).
I preached about this a little differently at the Jesuit retreat house in the St. Louis area where I began a retreat with 34 women this afternoon. The people of Lystra mistake Paul and Barnabas for "gods" because they see something of the divine in them. They perceive grace or supernatural power at work in and through them. This is how it should be for all of us.
As images of God we should reflect God to the world. As members of the Body of Christ, people should see Christ in us. I'm reminded of a song by the contemporary Christian musician Warren Barfield, "Mistaken." It brings these two reflections--Fr. Kroll's and mine--together. Here are a few of the lyrics:
Oh the more and more I disappear
The more and more He becomes clear
'Til everyone I talk to hears His voice
And everything I touch feels the warmth of His hand
'Til everyone I meet
Sees Jesus in me
This is all I wanna be
I wanna be mistaken
For Jesus
Do they only see who we are
When who we are should be pointing them to Christ
Cause we are who He chose to use
To spread the news
Of the way the truth and the life
Oh I want all I am to die
So all He is can come alive
This is the great mystery of the Christian life. In being emptied of ourselves we are filled with our truest, deepest self--Christ. We can say with St. Paul, "I have been crucified with Christ; yet I live, no longer I, but Christ lives in me" (Galatians 2: 19-20). In dying to ourselves we are born to real life.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
"Lord, I'm amazed."
I'm in Phoenix for the 35th annual Rosary Sunday at which I will be the keynote speaker. This evening I'll be at the Cathedral for Mass followed by a holy hour and dinner with the dozens of folks it takes to orchestrate an event like this. It will be good to have such quality time with the Lord present in the Blessed Sacrament this evening and to meet some of the people to whom I'll be speaking. I have to admit that I'm a bit nervous. I've never spoken to 6,000 people before and when I looked at the convention center room in which we will be praying tomorrow, I was struck by how big it is. Now, perhaps I've spoken to thousands on the radio at any given time, but somehow it feels a lot different imagining that many people right in front of me.
This is another of my "Lord, I'm amazed" moments. The first one occurred on the night after I was ordained a deacon. I lay in bed thinking about the ordination and about the next day, when my parents, who had journeyed from Milwaukee to the Boston area, would be in the front pew of St. Ann's Church in Somerville, MA where I would be preaching at one of the Sunday Masses. I prayed: "Lord, I'm amazed. Is this the same person who less than fifteen years ago was afraid to raise his hand in class during high school and college? I was so shy, and afraid of speaking in front of people. What happened? How is that I am now about to preach in a church filled with people? Yes, it's the same person who was so afraid and isn't your grace amazing?! Aren't You able to work wonders? You certainly have in my case."
So as I prepare for Rosary Sunday in Phoenix, I find myself grateful for God's grace at work in my life. All credit for any good that I do goes to God. I know where I've come from and so I give all glory and honor to God. May the Holy Spirit speak through me tomorrow so that God will receive greater honor and glory. May my words honor our Blessed Mother whose openess to God's grace is an example for all of us. Mary, Help of Christians, pray for us!
This is another of my "Lord, I'm amazed" moments. The first one occurred on the night after I was ordained a deacon. I lay in bed thinking about the ordination and about the next day, when my parents, who had journeyed from Milwaukee to the Boston area, would be in the front pew of St. Ann's Church in Somerville, MA where I would be preaching at one of the Sunday Masses. I prayed: "Lord, I'm amazed. Is this the same person who less than fifteen years ago was afraid to raise his hand in class during high school and college? I was so shy, and afraid of speaking in front of people. What happened? How is that I am now about to preach in a church filled with people? Yes, it's the same person who was so afraid and isn't your grace amazing?! Aren't You able to work wonders? You certainly have in my case."
So as I prepare for Rosary Sunday in Phoenix, I find myself grateful for God's grace at work in my life. All credit for any good that I do goes to God. I know where I've come from and so I give all glory and honor to God. May the Holy Spirit speak through me tomorrow so that God will receive greater honor and glory. May my words honor our Blessed Mother whose openess to God's grace is an example for all of us. Mary, Help of Christians, pray for us!
Friday, June 25, 2010
John the Baptist
Yesterday we celebrated the Solemnity of the Birth of John the Baptist. Once a month I am the spiritual director for the call-in spiritual direction show called "The Inner Life" on Relevant Radio. I began yesterday's show by talking about St. John the Baptist and what he has to teach us.
1. Humility. As the crowds came to John in the desert and wondered whether he might be the much-anticipated messiah, he could have claimed that title and had a great popular following. But he didn't. Committed to the truth, he pointed to the real messiah, his cousin Jesus. Humility means that we are honest with ourselves (and others) and that means recognizing that we are creatures in need of God. The world does not revolve around us. Or, as the common expression goes: "It's not about you!" The best definition of humility that I've heard is this: "Humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less." In other words, humility does not mean putting ourselves down or beating ourselves us. When we do this we are still the center of our attention. True humility is taking the focus off ourselves and putting it on God and neighbor. That's exactly what Jesus said the greatest commandment was: loving God and neighbor. Humility is the foundation of the other virtues. Without humility, other virtues--patience, chastity, temperance, faith, hope, and even love--can become sources of the pride that precedes the fall.
2. Dying to self. John the Baptist shows us that the way to humility and holiness is to die to self. This means dying to our self-centeredness. It means drawing attention not to ourselves but to Christ. It means making an offering of ourselves to God for His service and glory. This is the meaning of John the Baptist's famous phrase which would be a good Scripture quote to memorize and keep in mind throughout the day: "He must increase; I must decrease" (John 3: 30).
3. Being the voice of the Word. When asked who he was, John replied, quoting Isaiah: "I am the voice of one crying out in the desert, make straight the way of the Lord" (John 1: 23). We are called to be People of the Word, people who pray with the Scriptures so that the Word of God becomes part of us. Then, as we go about our daily lives, we will give voice to that Word. That doesn't mean quoting Scripture passages at people as much as living the Word and expressing it through our words and the deeds which speak louder than words. It means giving flesh to Gospel values and witnessing to those values in the way we live.
4. Witnessing to the truth. John witnessed to the truth. He witnessed to Jesus who called Himself "the way and the truth and the life" (John 14: 6). He also witnessed to the truth of the moral order, confronting King Herod who was living in sin. This led to the ultimate witness of his martyrdom where he showed that moral principles are greater than physical life. We can paraphrase Jesus here: What does it profit a person to gain a few more years of earthly life and in the process lose his or her integrity, conscience, and soul? For most of us, witnessing to the truth won't lead to death but rather rejection or hurtful words. People will get angry at us or make fun of us and we will have an opportunity to die to human praise and our own vanity, our need to be accepted and liked. In that way, we will decrease but Jesus will increase.
St. John the Baptist, pray for us that we too may be courageous voices for Jesus in the world today!
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