Unjustifying Justification

Moses said to the people: "If only you would heed the voice of the LORD, your God,
and keep his commandments and statutes that are written in this book of the law,
when you return to the LORD, your God, with all your heart and all your soul.
"For this command that I enjoin on you today is not too mysterious and remote for you.
It is not up in the sky, that you should say,…No, it is something very near to you,
already in your mouths and in your hearts; you have only to carry it out." (Dueteronomy 30:10-14)

There was a scholar of the law who stood up to test Jesus and said,"Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?"Jesus said to him, "What is written in the law? How do you read it?"
He said in reply,"You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your being,
with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself."
He replied to him, "You have answered correctly; do this and you will live."
But because he wished to justify himself, he said to Jesus, "And who is my neighbor?" (Luke 10:25-37)

Let me ask you this, if the sign on the side of the road says, Speed Limit 70, what exactly is your speed limit? Mine is 77. From everything I have heard, 7 over the speed limit will not get me pulled over. In today’s culture, there are lots of laws, and there are lots of interpretations of laws. This is why we have so many levels of court systems. What one person can justify with one judge puts another in the penalty box of another judge’s courtroom. Our judicial system in this world does not serve us well spiritually. [The law is the law, nothing added or taken away.] These are the words that first surfaced in my reflection of this past Sunday’s Gospel. We as humans have this intrinsic tendency of taking a law (whatever law) and making it [open to interpretation.] Instead of taking a law and using it as a measure guide for our behavior, we tend to hold ourselves up and try to make the law fit how we want it to best fit in our lives. Moses knows the hearts of the Israelites well. He tries to head off the human impulse to wheedle our way out or around the inconvenient truth that God’s law is God’s law. Today as I read Moses’ entreaty to the Israelites he cuts off a common refrain that we still use today, “For this command that I enjoin on you today is not too mysterious and remote for you.” He cuts off the “I didn’t know”, “Did God really mean it this way?” “I’m no scholar of the bible, I can’t figure it out.” Moses ends his exhortation with a simple command, “You have only to carry it out.” We know where we wheedle, negotiate, redefine, and ignore. The Lord speaks two simple words into my prayer, [No excuses.] The first reading from the book of Deuteronomy opened up a whole new interpretation of Jesus beloved parable of the Good Samaritan (there’s a law for that by the way :)) As I placed myself in this Gospel I began to see a beautiful living example of an examination of conscience. The scholar approaches Jesus wishing to test Him. Haven’t I done this countless times in my own heart and head? Lord, if I tell just this one small lie I will spare this person this pain, surely you would want that? Lord, if I skip Mass this weekend I will have more time to relax and be my best self on Monday, what is wrong with that? Lord, is it really gossip if I am seeking advise about a mutual friend? My list could go on. Jesus asks the scholar two simple questions that He invites us to ask ourselves: What is written? How do you read it? Let’s face it, there is often at least a small chasm between what God commands and what we actually live. What decisions would I make differently if I asked myself these two questions? Entering the Gospel again I see Jesus’ parable in a whole new light. The parable of the Good Samaritan holds universal truth for us all, but in that moment I imagine that Jesus spoke directly to a very specific circumstance in the life of the scholar that had been weighing on his conscience. This is so often how Jesus leads me to the truth of His teaching. As I read scripture, something from my own past surfaces. My first impulse is to push it back down with justification. When I approach the Lord with my questions, struggles, and yes arguments, Jesus often opens my eyes to the truth that I have fallen short of living His truth. Last week I followed an old law: the law of an eye for an eye. I met a wrong and a hurt with my own wrong and hurt. In the moment I felt justified even a little liberated. I had stood up for myself! Two mornings later, before coffee, before prayer, as I made my way downstairs the Lord downloaded a totally new perspective of the situation and I knew that I had in fact once again fallen short. I was not a neighbor. I had not shown mercy.

No student is above his teacher. (Luke 6:40)

No matter how well versed or schooled, we will always be students to our Rabbi, Jesus. I do not get to redefine the law. Where in your life are you leaving God’s law open to interpretation? Where have you felt the need for justification? Take this to prayer. Be bold, like the scholar, and ask Jesus your questions. Open your heart to listen to His reply.

[Artificial Sweetener]

God and I continue to work through my [chapter reviews]. This week He takes me back to a journal I have on my desk that has many pages ‘flagged’ for potential sharing. I open to June 18th, 2024. At that time last year I was halfway through my ‘try before you buy’ month here at Kingston. I have had this reflection become present to me several times this past year with that nudge to share, today I follow the nudge. As I sit to scribe this reflection I see that I have no scripture to go with it. The Lord places today’s first reading from the book of Genesis before me.

Know that I am with you;

I will protect you wherever you go,

and bring you back to this land.

I will never leave you until I have done what I promised you. (Genesis 28)

God places the hungers and desires on our hearts that He seeks to fulfill. Staying here (at Kingston) these past 17 days has been blessed, amazing, and inspiring. Being here has brought me ‘home’ in a sense. I want this. I want to be here. As I awoke this morning to God radio, the lyrics of a song drifted through my consciousness, “Let this hunger become a pathway, become a pathway that brings me here to you.” God gently reminds me that this is not my permanent home. It is not my ultimate destination and I must guard against destination addiction. I must not allow it to become [artificial sweetener]. Let me explain. I have throughout my life substituted some form of artificial sweetener for the real thing. I have done this in an attempt to lose weight or to break my sugar addiction. Recently I came across an article that shed light on the futility of using artificial sweeteners to break the sugar habit. When we use artificial sweeteners we ‘taste’ the sweet and in tasting the sweet we are actually feeding the addiction to sweet and thereby driving a desire for more of what does not in fact satisfy. The more you know…Staying here at Kingston has heightened my desire to make this my home. This is not a bad desire, in fact I firmly believe it is part of God’s desire for me. What I need to remember though is that Kingston is meant to draw me closer to God, not become a god.

A little over one year later God has in fact guided Jeff and I to Kingston. He has delivered on a promise that He showed me again and again. The words from Genesis ring true, “I will protect you wherever you go and bring you back to this land.” This past weekend He showed me that He is already at work to using Jeff and I in this space and time to bless others. Jeff and I had to turn down a lakeside weekend with friends to puppysit my daughters puppy while she worked 4 straight 12 hour night shifts. We used the opportunity to invite my parents, my son, and my niece (along with a friend) to come and enjoy some hospitality. The inn was full! As my dad reflected on his time here he told me that he feels like he’s been on vacation for a full week. He was overjoyed to see my niece take her friend to all the places that my parents have shared with her since she was little. Katja and her friend had the opportunity to take a weekend away and connect, and relax, and school all of us in Colorku. James learned to take a weekend that wasn’t what he had really hoped for and turn it into a well spent weekend that included seeing my dad get back in a boat and for the two of them to have a ‘miraculous’ catch of 23 bass. God is indeed delivering on His promise to help me make this space amazing for others. As I continued my chapter review with last year’s journal I came across one other gem. At the time I was listening to Arthur Brooks, The Science of Happiness, on Hallow. Brooks challenges each of us to create a mission statement for our lives, so of course being a good student, I did. My mission? “My purpose in life is to answer another person’s prayer of Lord teach us how to pray.” Today as I read that statement I stopped at “to answer another person’s prayer.” That too is a beautiful purpose. I pray that this past weekend I was indeed able in some way to answer the prayer of another. Let us take the hunger that God plants in our souls and find the narrow road within that hunger that will lead us back to Him. Amen. Take a listen to the amazing song that inspired this reflection.

The more you know

This was to fulfill what was spoken through Isaiah the prophet: “He took up our weaknesses and carried away our diseases.” (Matthew 8:17)

For we who live are constantly being given up to death for the sake of Jesus (2 Cor 4)

So death is at work in us, but life in you (2 Cor 4:12)

We boast of our affliction(Romans 5:1)

If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness (2 Cor 11:30)

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Cor 12:9)

During my [chapter review] this past week, Jesus brought me again to many conversations that Meg and I have had over the years. Not really conversations so much as Meg sharing a suffering she has experienced followed up with her spiritual refrain, “I offered it up for…” This idea of “offering it up” was a mystery to me and very counter cultural, not just this present day, but spanning human history. We don’t like to suffer. Period. We as humans will go to great lengths to avoid it, present company included. To be very honest, I didn’t want to go too deeply into this idea of “offering it up.” In my heart of hearts I probably knew that to fully understand (at least through a glass darkly lit) would call me to a small death, the death of ceasing to fight, resist, fear, and avoid suffering. I bet that every single person who reads these words of mine is suffering in some way. Suffering is not just physical. It is emotional, spiritual, even intellectual. It is universal. During prayer time the single line from Matthew’s Gospel which references the prophet Isaiah stood out, “He took up our weaknesses and carried away our diseases.” Suffering, all suffering, is ultimately the result of sin. We live not in paradise, but the broken result of wanting to be our own God. We are told that Jesus on the cross defeated death and sin yet we live surrounded by death and suffering. Why? Bear with me, deep theological dive ahead. I used to wonder how Jesus, living 2000 years ago, was able to take on all sin. Several years ago a wise theologian explained that as fully God, Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross stands independent of time in eternity. You know how we joke that something feels like an eternity? Well those three hours for Jesus were in fact an eternity in a sense. In our present moment in time, Jesus remains bearing our “inequities.” Suddenly St. Paul’s words began to fall into place for the meaning that they provide for the concept of “offering it up.” When I experiece suffering I can make a free will decision that I accept this suffering. I, in effect, am saying to my Lord, “I’ve got this, you don’t need to take this small (in relation) suffering upon you, I accept it myself.” In that moment we too can unleash Jesus’ grace for another, “So death is at work in us, but life in you.” This is not just an empty phrase. It is not a platitude. It is not being sanctimonious. It is a moment of grace when fully understood and accepted. The more you know… So this morning, on our way to church we almost ran into two bucks. The sudden stop of the car had the large heavy box we have in the back of the SUV ramming into the back of my seat and jarring me. By the time we got to Mass my neck was stiffening and my shoulder blade hurting. As I knelt in church I felt the familiar anxiety begin to well up and the fear of how much pain this would lead to with my neck arthritis. Then I gazed upon Jesus and this was my prayer, “Jesus I accept whatever this may become. Thank you that we did not in fact hit any deer. Thank you that my seat held and did not break. Please use the grace of this moment for someone who needs it more. Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place my trust in you.” The anxiety left and I was able to be fully present to Mass. What a gift. This is an additional grace of the offering, “My grace is sufficient for you.” Where are you suffering in your life right now? Can you surrender your suffering and offer it to Jesus?

True Presence

 For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink.  Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him.  As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever feeds on me, he also will live because of me.  This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like the bread the fathers ate, and died. Whoever feeds on this bread will live forever.” (John 6:55-59)

“Take note of those who have heterodox opinions on the grace of Jesus Christ which has come to us. See how contrary their opinions are to the mind of God. They abstain from the Eucharist and from prayer because they do not confess that the Eucharist is the flesh of our savior Jesus Christ. Flesh which suffered for our sins and which the Father in his goodness raised up again.” (Ignatius of Antioch (died year 107, a disciple of Polycarp who was a disciple of John the Beloved)

This past weekend the Catholic Church celebrated the Feast of Corpus Christi, the belief in the true presence of Jesus in the Eucharist. Jeff and I found ourselves at the church just a few miles from our house on Saturday evening. We have been playing popcorn churches. We pop all over the area, between 5 churches and 2 pastorates that are within 25 minutes of our house. We pop all over because I am seeking what I perceive I have lost: a strong community of fellowship, a consistent priest that will stay with a parish more than 2 years, dynamic faith formation, a strong music ministry. I am an unmoored Catholic at the moment seeking my parish harbor. Much mental stress and deliberation have been given to this “problem.” This past Saturday was one of those extraordinary Eucharistic experiences that started with my quiet pre-Mass prayer time and continued to the concluding song. I will try to give any of you that struggle with Mass, your parish, or the true presence a moment of grace that I feel God is asking me to share. Five years ago my friend Meg spoke prophetic words to me. She has no idea of this, this will be news to her as she reads this. We were having a “spirited” debate on what is spiritually necessary, what the heart of our faith journey is. We were “praystorming” how to get parishioners more spiritually engaged. I was lamenting our pastor’s (of that time) seeming lack of investment in the parish outside of the Mass. Meg agreed and disagreed, “Yeah, but he’s not wrong, Fr. Greg (different priest entirely) says, ‘The Eucharist is the source and the summit. It is all we need.’” My argument was that 70 percent of Catholics do not believe in the true presence and that if coming to Mass week after week was not bringing them to belief then “program” offering outside of Mass could help walk with them to encounter Jesus more fully and help bring them to the beauty of the Mass. We were both right, but, there was one way that I was wrong: I thought that spiritually, in terms of Mass and Eucharist, I had reached the Source and Summit: foolish pride. It turns out I had only begun the climb. Last night as I gazed in prayer on the altar and tabernacle Jesus downloaded a powerful truth that overwhelmed me in it’s beauty and simplicity. At a deep level I knew that this (Eucharist) is what matters. Eucharist is ultimately what I need from a parish. It doesn’t matter who the priest is. It doesn’t matter if the homily inspires. It doesn’t matter if the music is a hot mess. It doesn’t matter if the bulletin is devoid of program offerings or fellowship opportunities. It doesn’t matter if I know anyone else there. What matters is Jesus is present: body, blood, soul, and divinity. I am going to receive Him in the exact same way the disciples did 2000 years ago. In a moment, I saw that all the reasons that held me back from committing to a parish were, to quote Ecclesiastes, vanity of vanities. Only one thing matters. Jesus is present in every tabernacle and at every Mass. In case I wondered if I just thought all this up on my own, Fr. Eric affirmed my pre-Mass prayer time in his homily. He told us there are millions of Catholics receiving Eucharist on this day, yet we each receive the one Jesus. There are thousands of priests celebrating Mass on this day, but the one High Priest, Jesus, who is present to change the bread and wine. This is a mystical reality of the Mass and if we don’t believe then we are just partaking in a cultural habit that holds no grace. Jesus’ words from last week echo again, “I have more to tell you.” At this Mass he most certainly did. On the feast of Corpus Christi, the veil was lifted and the truth of Meg’s words from five years ago return and bear fruit. The Eucharist is the Source and Summit, without it, it’s just production and pagentry and one more thing trying to grab for my attention. I haven’t reached the summit yet, I never will, but I am at least a little further along the journey and reaching new heights. One last thing, an addendum. Two years ago after an illness I lost my ability to sing anything above an alto for a full song. I have never had one of those amazing voices, but I have always loved singing in church. I have given this struggle over to our Lord multiple times. It’s a small thorn, I know, but still a thorn. This past weekend during Mass my singing voice returned and I joined in for all the songs without fatigue or cracking. For a girl who hears God in song this was a beautiful gift, some might say a miracle, a Eucharistic miracle. Even if it is a fleeting gift, I hold it close to my heart the gift to pray twice with singing. This week I include a video of Fr. Mike Schmitz homily on Corpus Christi. It is a worthy listen. I will close with the simple line that was repeated often last year at the Eucharistic Congress, “I will see you in the Eucharist.” Amen.

[Chapter Review]

See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland. (Isaiah 43:19)

In the past several weeks these words have been spoken to me in my prayer time and as I go about my day. Most often they are spoken to a deep desire for something, anything new to happen in my spiritual life. These words have taunted me and I have yelled back, “No God, I don’t “perceive” anything new.” The Lord and I have been wrestling. Last week I read an article in the newsletter for the National Eucharistic Revival by Julianne Stanz. Julianne was reflecting on preparing her speach for last years congress. Her words pierced my silent cries.

From the Latin, “Re” can mean “again.” My talk needed to be about our constant need to return again and again and again in the Lord. We so often chase the new in our spiritual lives that we forget the source from which all renewal flows, the seed from the Word of God and Eucharist.

Jesus clarified things for me this past Sunday with His words in the Gospel,

I have much more to tell you, but you cannot bear it now. (John 16:12)

As I prayed the promise of that line over and over in prayer, “I have much more to tell you, I have much more to tell you…” Jesus drew my attention to the second half of his promise with the words, [Chapter Review]. Do you remember chapter review days in school? I both loved and dreaded them! I loved that I didn’t have to pay close attention. It felt like a “blowoff” class. On the other hand, they were BORING! I hated that I wasn’t learning anything new. It should come as no surprise that the book that sits unfinished in my bookcase is Matthew Kelly’s, Slowing Down to the Speed of Joy. Matthew Kelly addresses the endemic of “busy” that we as a society suffer from. God certainly knew what He was doing when He placed that book in my hands to read. The enemy certainly knew what he was doing when he convinced me I was too busy to finish it. The irony! Like Julianne Stanz states, I have been seeking something shiny and new to jump start my spiritual journey. Like Jesus says (Jack Nicholson style in A Few Good Men), “You can’t handle new.” He’s right. I have lost the discipline of the last several chapters in my school of discipleship. I need a chapter review. I need to re-engage my core practices which have sadly been neglected. Last week Jeff and I took first steps. We attended Thursday night Mass, adoration, and confession: a trifecta of renewal! I have been resisting the discipline of spiritual routine believing the lie that it will restrict my freedom of time. Here’s the question, are you ready?

“Time for what?”

Right now, and on our walk as Christians, there isn’t anything more important than the disciplines that we undertake so that we can love God with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength. God will not ever stand beside me and look upon my time at Mass, in adoration, in spiritual reading, writing of His glory, or praying as time wasted. Jesus is calling me once again to be Mary, to sit at the feet of the teacher, and pay attention to His chapter review. Jesus has so much more to tell me. He has so much more for each and every one of us. Let us commit ourselves anew with the renewal and revival of the discipline of discipleship. Amen.

[Never Enough Time]

“O unbelieving and perverse generation! How long must I be with you? How long must I put up with you?” (Matthew 17:17)

“In a little while you won't see me anymore. But a little while after that, you will see me again.” Some of the disciples asked each other, “What does he mean when he says, 'In a little while you won't see me, but then you will see me,' and 'I am going to the Father' (John 16:16)

My father sat in his chair at Kingston, his place for 50 years now and imparted some wisdom, “You think you’re going to have enough time: enough time to go fishing again or to see your granddaughter in her play, but there comes a point where you simply run out of time.” The next day as my dad sat down in the wood stove room and admired Jeff’s new installation of “wall of fish” I hugged him and cried. As I cried he patted my arm and again wisely said, “I’m not gone yet.” I replied, “But you may never be here again.” And he told me, “No, this is the last time that I will be here and I am so grateful that I got to come one more time.” (cue more sobbing) I waved goodbye to my for the final time and watched as my son drove him away from this place that he loved. I have, over the years, said this ‘final’ goodbye to my dad many times given his extensive medical problems. I have always tried to give him that tighter hug, always made sure to tell him, “I love you” just in case. This time as Dad drove off I the potential ‘final’ time turned into the actual final goodbye and that is a gift of knowing. I still do not know the exact length of days or conversations that remain, but in the past day I have come to a new truth.

There…is…never…enough…time

This is not a platitude. It is a deeply held truth that is awakening in the core of my very being. As I feel this truth the Lord shows me His own frustration with “not enough” time emerges in the scripture quotes above. His words echoe with the beating of my grief filled heart, [Not Enough Time]. Every single human lives this reality at some point in time. Today, Not Enough Time, brings a deeper understanding of one of the most famous passages in scripture,

For God so loved the world that He gave His only Begotten Son (John 3:16)

Not enough time is the reason for Jesus’ passion, to give each of us the opportunity of the resurrection. Our Heavenly Father created time when He created the day. He created time as a construct for us hoping that this sense of “not enough time” would point us to the desire for eternity that He placed in each of our souls. In a little while I will not see my father anymore, but he will not be gone. He won’t just remain in my memory or live on in my inherited traits, or his “legacy.” My father remains in eternity with his Savior, Jesus. My dad believes in Jesus. My dad has encountered Jesus in his near death moments years ago. My dad has demonstrated a peace through all of these “lasts” that comes from a faith in eternity. My dad is preparing for eternity where the earthly burden of not enough time fall away. Amen.

Calm Command

Before I dive into scripture and my reflections I want to give a little update on life in the Adam’s household that may help give my reflections perspective. Jeff and I have officially moved out of our Green Bay home and are settled into the family land at Kingston. The moving van arrived this past Tuesday. In the midst of this chapter change of our lives, the Lord has presented another. My dad entered home hospice last week Thursday after his declines showed no plateau. His remaining time with us remains firmly in the hands of the Lord to decide but from our earthly perspective it is very limited. I ask you all to keep our family in your prayers as I know many of you are already doing. Trust me, those prayers are being felt! Below you will find two reflections I had during Holy Week.

Because the Sovereign Lord helps me,I will not be disgraced. Therefore have I set my face like flint and I know I will not be put to shame. He who vindicates me is near. (Isaiah 50:7)

 Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. (John 14:27)

Since watching The Chosen and being introduced to the Dayenu (It would have been enough), I have been spending some of my morning prayer time with “it would have been enough” from the day before. In the midst of the of all that is going on this Holy Week my “would have been enough” seems to be centered on the strength and perseverance that the Lord is providing. As my list grew, I felt the Lord speak these words to me, [Calm Command]. As I hold these words they suddenly become a beautiful definition for another word, patience. This is what the peace that Jesus promises each of us can provide, calm command. This is the patient endurance that Jesus Himself modeled time and again during His Holy Week: with Judas, in the garden with His disciples, at His arrest, before the high priests and pilate, with the soldiers beating Him, and on His cross. Calm command is the grace to walk forward peacefully down the road of difficulty. Calm command springs forth from claiming our true identity as His and it is knowing Who is with us every step of the way. It is not passivity; it is confidently advancing. “Always forward, never back.” (St. Junipero Serra) Calm command commands those moments when we fully awaken to the truth that we are never alone in the fight of the moment. We have The Wingman of wingmen: Jesus. Calm command is the transformation of faith from “it would have been enough” to Jesus is enough. This Holy Week I feel I have the unique priveledge of having my own “passion” play out. Not a passion of physical agony (although all the picking things up and putting them down in boxes and what not does have it’s own agony) or a passion of betrayal or of fighting Satan. My “passion” is a passion of goodbyes and letting go.

When the hour came, Jesus and his apostles reclined at the table. And he said to them, “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer.  For I tell you, I will not eat it again until it finds fulfillment in the kingdom of God.” (Luke 22)

“‘If you can’?” said Jesus. “Everything is possible for one who believes.” (Mark 9:23)

The peace of Christ continues to reveal itself this Holy Week. In the midst of His calm command, Jesus shows us the impossible, eager anticipation. The gift of eager anticipation flows from faith, and the gift of “knowing.” What are we called “to know?” We are called to know that whatever we face today, Jesus is waiting to deliver us to the other side of it. Last night as I prayed in church I felt our Lord repeat to me, “I have eagerly anticipated this.” Last night was my last supper so to speak at the parish that has fostered my faith for 28 years. It filled me with hope in that prayer moment that as I sat feeling unmoored my Savior stood in anticipation. He has been waiting for this moment (and the next moment, and the next moment…)! Jesus knows what lies on the other side and that gift of His peace suddenly resonates it’s truth a little deeper into my aching heart. If Jesus is eagerly anticipating, then I can pray to receive the grace to eagerly anticipate what He has prepared for me.

And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. (John 14:3)

Lord Jesus, I believe, help my unbelief. I am sorry for all the times that my anticipation of the future has been one of dread and anxiety. Fill me with Your eager anticipation. Amen.

When enough is enough

As he rode along, the people were spreading their cloaks on the road; and now as he was approaching the slope of the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of his disciples began to praise God aloud with joy for all the mighty deeds they had seen.They proclaimed: "Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord. Peace in heavennand glory in the highest." (Luke 19)

When the hour came, Jesus took his place at table with the apostles. He said to them,
"I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer, for, I tell you, I shall not eat it again
until there is fulfillment in the kingdom of God." Then he took a cup, gave thanks, (Luke 22)

I have eagerly desired to share this post with each of you as we enter Holy Week. I have been waiting until today for it all to come together. It began forming in my heart and mind on Wednesday morning in prayer. Jeff and I made a concerted effort to arrive at church early today. It is the first time in 13 years that we are celebrating Palm Sunday at another parish and we wanted to make sure we were there early since we were unfamiliar with this new parishes traditions. I sat in the pew reading our Palm Sunday booklet and in it was a basic instruction for the processional, “wave you palm in joy as the procession enters.” Normally I’m a hold it like a standard sort so this took me a bit outside my comfort zone. I need not have worried, it appeared that most did not read, or disregarded these instructions, as most palms remained motionless. I did wave mine a bit in time with the music though. Every Sunday at Mass, we Catholics enter into a portion of today’s Gospel, the Last Supper. Today we read the “whole story,” or as I liked to call it until a few years ago, the LONG Mass. As I listened to The Passion a new awareness opened for me. As is often the case, it’s one of those things that is so obvious it may elicit an eye roll from you. This week from Sunday to Sunday we are walking in “real time” in the shoes of our Lord. We stand with our palms raised today, we celebrate the service of the Last Supper on Thursday, we enter the Passion on Friday and venerate the cross, and on Sunday we encounter the empty tomb. Today is Sunday. How are you starting Holy Week? May I suggest a way to enter into today waving your palms in joy and celebration while simultaneously preparing your heart in a new way for Thursday? The crowdfunded series, The Chosen, just released Season 5 in theatres this April (this season is Holy Week portrayed over 8 episodes). Jeff and I went and witnessed Episodes 3-5 this last Tuesday. One of the beautiful aspects of The Chosen is that it incorporates Judaism and Jewish tradition into the Gospel, Jesus was/is/will always be Jewish after all. At the Passover meal, the Jewish people sing a prayer of thanksgiving called the Dayenu. Dayenu translated to English is: it would have been enough. This prayer of gratitude follows the ways that God encountered His people from their release from Egypt to their deliverance in the promised land. It is a beautiful reminder of God’s abundant love. Here is an excerpt to give you an idea…

Had the sea been split the sea for us, and we had not been led through it to dry land, it would've been enough. Had we been led to dry land, and our enemies not drowned in the sea behind us, it would've been enough for us. Had our enemies drowned, and our needs not have been provided for in the desert for 40 years, it would've been enough. Had we been supported in the desert and not been given bread, it would have been enough. Had we been given bread and not been given the Sabbath, it would have been enough. Had we been given the Sabbath and not been brought to Mount Sinai, it would have been enough. Had we been brought to Mount Sinai and not been sent the Torah, it would have been enough

Wednesday morning, in prayer, I found myself writing my own dayenu. “If He sparked my faith, but didn’t bathe me in His love on Confirmation, it would have been enough. If He bathed me in His love, but didn’t lead me to Physical Therapy, it would have been enough. If He led me to Physical Therapy, but didn’t lead me to Marquette University, it would have been enough. If He led me to Marquette, but didn’t bring me Jeff, it would have been enough…” This was just a snippet, I ended up filling three journal pages! Gratitude is the foundation of joy. No matter where we are any given day, we can give God “Dayenu”, “it would have been enough.” When we begin to look back at the overflowing provision of our Father, we can grow in faith. We can progress from “it would have been enough” to “it is enough” as we face today. With time and with patient perseverance we can grow again. We can grow from “it is enough” to “it will be enough” because the Words of St. Paul remain: Jesus was. Jesus is. Jesus will be. Spend some time in these upcoming days writing your own Dayenu. Ask the Holy Spirit to help you remember so that when we enter Holy Thursday and the Last Supper we can model our Lord and Savior and be able to say with Him, “I have eagerly desired to share this meal with you.” Jesus demonstrates the gratitude He calls us to. In the face of His persecution, suffering, and death, with gratitude He lifted His body and blood for His disciples, for us, and for eternity. Amen.

Heavenly Father, if you had given me The Chosen, but not the Hallow app (inspiration for this week’s Quotables), it would have been enough. If You had given me the Hallow app, but not the song from Phil Wickham (Shout out to Molly!), it would have been enough. Amen. (Here’s the song…)

Embracing Frustration

The days will come when the Bridegroom is taken from them, and they will fast

What feels like ‘way back when I was in Savannah’ a new enemy crept up into my daily life: frustration. I found myself focusing and refocusing on the small details of a day that did not go according to plan. I was allowing myself to become impatient and angry over these details. One morning while in prayer I had my ‘epiphany’: I was going to give up frustration for Lent (yes, I can almost hear several of you laughing right now, rightly so.) I had reflected on the above gospel verse and asked, “What do I need to fast from?” What God showed me was my frustration. The enemy (and my own human tendency) ran with that ball declaring that I was going to give up frustration. Within hours, and repeated over several days, I was thrown into frustration over my inability to give up frustration. I imagine the enemy kicking his heels over my attempt to achieve something that is futile. I also imagine God the Father patiently waiting until I was ready to listen. The first breadcrumb of wisdom was a reminder of a book Jeff and I listened to on our way down from Green Bay to Savannah. We listened to Arthur Brooks, Build the Life You Want, on audiobook. Arthur Brooks talks to the truth that emotions (specifically our initial response emotions to a circumstance) are automatic, they are part of our limbic system, we can’t control them. This knowledge was combined with wisdom from Fr. Adam, emotions are not sinful, it is how we act on those emotions that can be sinful. It would be a few weeks before God delivered the next nugget of gold. Fr. Mike Schmitz, in his Sunday Sermon, quoted an American Psychologist, Dr. Becky Kennedy. I will quote Fr. Mike (who is paraphrasing who is Dr. Becky)

That space, between knowing and not knowing, not being able and being able, she says it’s painful. She calls it the learning space…she said there’s a single emotion that’s associated with that training space… that one emotion that’s associated with this space is frustration.

God, it turns out, is not asking me to do the impossible, He is asking me to embrace the inevitable. He is showing me that I am in a learning space. I am learning to live with my husband in co-retirement. I am learning how to sell a house. I am learning how to let go of a previous way of life and part of that is learning to let go of a lot of stuff. In the midst of all of this God reminds me of a truth brought to me last Lent: I am still learning to let go of my expectations. Greater yet, God is inviting me into the advanced class on learning to fully trust Him. I am going to need a lot more than 40 days in this Lenten desert! If any of you are frustrated with Lent, I hope that this post can encourage you. Frustration is okay. It is an invitation to learning and growth. We aren’t called to give up frustration, we are called to ask ourselves, “What area of growth or learning is this frustration calling me to?” I will leave you with a Gospel from several weeks ago that hit home for me on this…

 “But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you,  bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.  If someone slaps you on one cheek, turn to them the other also. If someone takes your coat, do not withhold your shirt from them.  Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back.  Do to others as you would have them do to you…

 “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners love those who love them.  And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners do that.  And if you lend to those from whom you expect repayment, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, expecting to be repaid in full.  But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.Finally, in prayer, these words came

[Frustration is an emotional symptom of what is missing].

I’m Back! And so is Lent.

If you hold back your foot on the sabbath from following your own pursuits on m holy day; If you call the sabbath a delight, and the Lord’s holy day honorable; If you honor it by not following your ways, seeking your own interests, or speaking with malice- Then you shall delight in the lord, and I will make you ride on the heights of the earth (Isaiah 58)

Jesus said to them in reply, “Those who are healthy do not need a physician, but the sick do. I have not come to call the righteous to repentance, but sinners. (Luke 5)

I was blessed to be able to work part time after the birth of our children. After both children were old enough and spent their days in school, I liked to make sure that I had Wednesdays off. I often said that Wednesdays were sacred to me. They were my day to follow my own pursuit. This often meant they were what I called a “pajama day.” Now I know you might be conjuring images of bon-bons and Netflix, not so. “Pajama Day” for me involved swifters, vacuums, washing machines, magic erasers, mixing bowls, mixers, and ovens. For some reason I could attack a day undettered and with greater industry if I never stopped to “get ready.” I loved pajama days. The Sabbath is often a point of contrition for me in the confessional. I often turn God’s holy day into another Sacred Wednesday, MY holy day. I am great at justifying this. These activities are not work (for me), they are pleasure. God, speaking through the prophet Isaiah, points out to me not once, but twice, hold back your foot from following your own pursuit. Jesus then gives me the one-two punch, I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners. For Lent I often take on at least one fail safe fast: sugar, spending, etc. The question Jesus asks me today is whether my area of fasting is an area of righteousness or an area of sin. In prayer today what I saw was that because of past fasting and disclipline those areas of weakness have been made stronger by the grace of God, they are no longer substitutes for trusting and relying and talking with Him. During Lent, Jesus calls us to seek to strengthen where we are weak, where we fall short. Up to this morning I have still been contemplating my Lenten fast (yes, I know, it is day 4). Today Jesus invites me to fast from making the Sabbath into my Sacred Wednesday. As usual His timing is impeccable. First, because tomorrow is the first Sunday of Lent. Second, we just returned from our month in Savannah where for the first time in my life I actually got to explore what leisure really looked like (without a property or two that I was immediately responsible for). Jeff and I would spend extra time with our morning prayer, go to Mass at least a couple extra days, take walks just to get outside, read books, talk about our books and our prayer, phone friends to stay in touch. There was one other special project that Savannah made room for as well. I began to chronologically read back through my journals and to gleen out the “highlights” and transcribe them into a very special journal I am making. Tomorrow I am going to work hard to fast from working at my own pursuits. I am going to allow the Lord to guide my day. He knows everything that needs to get done in my life, I need to learn to give Him this day, trusting that by having a true Sabbath, I can learn to discern between what is really a need and what is really just busyness. Amen. Pray for me this Lent brothers and sisters, I am holding each of you in prayer as well.

If you build it

Then Jesus entered a house, and again a crowd gathered (Mark 3:20)

Emma made her first neighborhood friends at the age of three when my parents gifted her a Rainbow Play System for her birthday. This backyard playset complete with slide, swings, trapeze, monkey bars, playfort, and sand box was quickly discovered by the neighbor kids who began to come over regularly to play. Fast forward 7 years and we installed an Easy Set pool in our backyard. History repeats itself, this time including friends from school. As Jeff and I make this transition from Green Bay to Kingston, we are again making changes that we hope will succeed in drawing others to us, friends and family alike, along with the long term goal of creating a retreat space for ministers in the church. My first memory of hospitality occured at my friend Amy’s house just down the block. Her mom would invite me to stay for lunch: peanut butter, banana, and honey sandwiches on homeade bread- heaven. One time when I was sleeping over, I became famished in the middle of the night and Amy modeled her mom’s hospitality, this time with ham and cheese roll ups. In high school I worked for several artists that belonged to the Sisters of Divine Savior. Their Art Studio was located in the old convent adjacent to my school. Each day after school I was greeted with tea, cookies, and warm smiles. The Sisters gave me my first opportunity to extend hospitality to others by hosting the Saturday open houses. I think I was more excited to be able to prepare the studio (brewing tea, setting out cookies, and making sure all was ready) than to be on the receiving end of their hospitality. Early on in my marriage until my deeper conversion in Christ I lost the heart of hospitality. When I invited others over it had to be carefully planned out well in advance. I had to make sure that I had plenty of time to make my house look “perfect”, I had to make sure that I made food to “impress.” God inspired this insight, [I wanted to reflect well in the other person’s eyes instead of wanting Jesus to be reflected in my own.} True Hospitality is a charism: a gift of the Holy Spirit given to an individual to be shared with another to meet their needs and to help facilitate an encounter with Christ. The Gospel verse above was from this past Saturday’s reading and it stood out to me, Jesus came with His disciples into the house, again a crowd gathered. This is a simple and beautiful definition of hospitality: to act in such a way that Jesus is right there with us. It is also a great definition of disciple: bringing Jesus into the house. I have changed my goals when I invite people over. I try with each invitation to think of small ways that the person I have invited knows that they are welcomed and loved. This might mean a pot of decaf coffee for the friend who has given up caffeine, the favorite dish for the friend recovering from illness, the cookies everyone loves and the gluten free ones for the one who is gluten free. It also means letting go of perfection. I am learning to extend the last minute invite where I see the need and letting go of careful planning. Most importantly, it means making sure that when I am with someone, I am truly listening to them because it is in the things that they tell me that the Holy Spirit can give me the nudges for what else I can do. This most important act of hospitality takes hospitality, and Jesus, out of our homes and wherever we are having conversation. Hospitality can happen anywhere. Jeff and I are building upon the foundation of hospitality one room at a time seeking to provide a space for visitors to come, rest, and be refreshed. God has made us stewards of this property; we seek to return on His investment one person at a time. This one Gospel line encourages me; if we build it and keep Jesus center, they will come. For now, while we are under construction and in transition I leave each of you with a prayer in the form of a song. It keeps playing in my head so I’ll follow the nudge…

[Load Bearing]

Then the Lord spoke to Job out of the storm. He said:“Who is this that obscures my plans
    with words without knowledge? Brace yourself like a man; I will question you,
    and you shall answer me. “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation? (Job 38:1-4)

God blessed Job's later life even more than his earlier life. (Job 42:12)

In the past God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets at many times and in various ways,  but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, and through whom also he made the universe. The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word. (Hebrews 1:1-3)

I am the way, the truth, and the life (John 14:6)

Happy New Year! I can’t believe that I blinked and Christmas Eve turned into the 13th of January. These past three weeks have ushered Christmas in (and out), ushered Jeff out of working and into retirement, and ushered Jeff and I into the active remodeling/construction phase of our transition to life in the country. God’s grace and provision have been wonderful and humbling. Yesterday I was listening to one of the Hallow App’s witness stories from their Advent Pray 25 challenge. Yep, I am still working my way through Advent because in a very real sense we are always called to Advent. This story worked its way into this morning prayer time as the enemy was trying his best to instill fear and doubt. My mind was filled with the vision of support beams, barn support beams to be exact. Last week Monday our contractor kicked off construction which was to include wrapping two supporting barn beams in a wall. Jeff was supervising this process as I worked from Green Bay cleaning up Christmas and doing some packing. I receive a text in the middle of the morning, “beams gone” accompanied by a picture of open space previously defined by these two beams. Cue heart flutter of slight panic. It turns out those beams didn’t line up and our wall would have needed to be twelve inches thick loosing a half foot of usable space. Further inspection revealed to our contractor, who happens to be a structural engineer (yes, this is one of many provisions God set in place), that these beams weren’t even structural. When the original remodel from barn to house was done, a tress system was installed. We now had six more inches of space in three rooms (cue another Godwink moment of provision)! This morning in prayer, even though I myself saw with my own eyes the tress system, I began to envision the collapse of our roof. God interjected into this with the following words, [Load Bearing]. This brought me right back to yesterday’s witness story about how the person’s husband was her support system, how that support prevented her from having a meaningful relationship with God, and how the death of her spouse led her to the truth, God is our central support system. Independent of our faith, our religion, and our relationship with God, God is The One Who holds each and every one of us in existence every moment of our lives. As we grow, age, and walk this journey called life, we introduce different support beams. These support beams might be labeled family, career, hobby, success, etc. I think the problem we each face is that we come to mistake these support beams for THE Central Support Beam (God) and we begin to believe that to lose any one of these beams will result in our collapse. My earthly father often says, “If you get old enough, God takes away the things you value one by one until there is just you and He.” This is in a sense the biblical story of Job revisited across the millenia. God does not do this out of cruelty. God is simply always seeking for our relationship with Him to be one where we recognize Him as the central support system. Looking at the story of Job we can be reassured that once Job encountered God and recognized this truth, his life was blessed in greater ways. I don’t believe that we have to resign ourselves to being Job at some point. I believe God is inviting each of us to continually evaluate our support systems. Is there a support that I am placing too much weight and value on instead of God? He is inviting us to let go of the fear of loss and the fear of collapse. God is inviting us to trust that He will keep us upright if we make Him load bearing

Lord, help me to lean centrally on you. Give me the wisdom to see where in my life I put too much weight. Give me the courage to be faithful like Job and say, “the good Lord giveth and the good Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord.” Give me the faith to know that in all things you will hold me up. Amen.

Space Mountain

The Lord had said to Abram, “Go from your country, your people and your father’s household to the land I will show you. (Genesis 12:1)

an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. “Get up,” he said, “take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod is going to search for the child to kill him.” (Matthew 2:13)

Don’t be afraid, Zechariah! God has heard your prayer. Your wife Elizabeth will have a son, and you will name him John. (Luke 1:13)

On the same day that I had the epiphany that I could spiritually gift to others what God has so blessed me with, I went to daily Mass. It turns out God wasn’t done speaking just yet. After I returned from communion, God reminded me of a promise He made to me almost 6 years ago regarding our future, [If you give it to me, I will make it amazing.] He wasn’t done, this wasn’t a reminder message, it was a clarification message. I felt God say the following, [Predictable isn’t amazing]. As Jeff and I embark into so many ‘unknowns’ in these upcoming months, I find myself wanting more set variables. As we decide on medical and dental insurance, I would like to know what our health is going to look like. As we get ready to sell our house, I want to know what the housing market will look like. I could go on, but I trust you’re getting the idea. Remember, I am a recovering Type A personality. I think this is a common human ailment, the desire to control. I went home and promptly put those words, [Predictable isn’t amazing] in my journal. Two days later, again at Mass (I hope some of you are starting to see a pattern!) God took me to DisneyWorld after communion. Specifically, He took me to one of our favorite rides, Space Mountain. Space Mountain is a wonderful rollercoaster. It never gets old. Every time I go on, it’s like being on it for the first time. There is a very good reason for this. Space Mountain is a rollercoaster that is ridden in the dark. I don’t get to see the hills, turns, and whatever else it has ahead. I am forced to live the ride in the moment. Today at Mass, God showed me the polar opposite of Space Mountain, It’s a Small World. This is a ride of predictability and boredom. It is a ride that feels like you’re on it forever. It is a ride that we haven’t stepped onto in at least 15 years. It is that uninspiring. Sadly there are a lot of people who believe following Jesus looks like, It’s a Small World. This is a lie of the enemy. The past seven years of my life have proven again and again that abandoning my life to the Space Mountain of spirituality ensures that my life will continue to be amazing. He enters into my time and space of uncertainty to assure me that there is nothing to fear in this uncertainty. He is good for the promises He makes. God has never in His history with His people given too many details. He doesn’t want to ruin the excitement or the surprises, and He wants us to keep coming back to Him again and again. This was a beautiful Chrsitmas gift. He didn’t answer any of my unknown variables, instead He gave me peace in the wild ride that is the unknown. Christmas is a beautiful time to remember to expect the unexpected because extraordinary isn’t predictable. May Jesus, God with us, enter into the nativity of your uncertainty and bring you peace this Christmas. Amen.

Spiritual Regifting

Brothers and sisters; Rejoice in the Lord always. I say it again: rejoice! Your kindness should be known to all. The Lord is near. Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:4-7)

Four years ago I wrote my first Advent book, In the Spirit of Christmas (self published, don’t look on Amazon :)). That book followed the inspiration that there are no accidents or incidental details with God, but that every word and detail in God’s Word was intentional. Following that inspiration, I walked through Advent by walking through each detail in the nativity narrative and what it means for us today. When I came upon the Wise Men, I reflected on our call to bring our gifts before Jesus. My inspiration with this element was that God has already given us the gifts that we can give in our “charisms”, our spiritual super powers so to speak. We are called to a “regifting” of sorts. This advent it feels as if my litany of prayer intentions is filled with some heavy hitters. The enemy has been busy to say the least. Yesterday morning I entered prayer with a heavy heart, a feeling not of hopelessness in God, but in the hopelessness of man. I know that God can work all things for good, but He requires our cooperation. As I prayed into each person’s struggle something different happened, I began to see what spiritual superpower that person needed to better cooperate with God’s will and fight the enemy. Holy Spirit then brought to mind a lesson from my days at the Encounter School of Ministry. At our baptism and strengthened at our confirmation, God has given us each a unique gift set of divine superpowers to help us navigate our circumstances. That is not the lesson, that is the premise for the lesson. The lesson is that we can ask God to take what He has given to us and to give it to another in need. The first time I heard that, I recoiled. I thought of myself, “I need and want my gifts.” Thankfully that is not the end of the lesson. When we offer God our gifts for another in prayer, He replenishes our supply as well. God is so good and generous. This is modeled in Jesus. Jesus gave authority to His disciples to go out and heal the sick, in doing so Jesus did not become less powerful. It was a spiritual multiplication of loaves and fish. With pen and paper in hand I began to write down each person I am praying for and then which spiritual gift of mine that I would like to gift them this Advent. I went from feeling a bit hopeless to feeling empowered and hopeful! Jesus rescued my Advent yesterday! Imagine the change we could bring about this Christmas if we began some spiritual regifting in these last 9 days! What are your spiritual superpowers? Scripture outlines quite a few: faith, hope, love, courage, wisdom, knowledge, understanding, counsel, piety, awe, forgiveness, generosity, trust, peace. If you are a person of peace, who in your life is riddled with anxiety? Ask God to give them a share of your peace. If you are a person who can forgive easily, who in your life is struggling with unforgiveness? Ask God to give them a share of your forgiving superpower. We can share faith where faith falls short, fortitude where someone has an achilles heel. If it is easy to see God in the circumstances, I can pray wisdom into the person who just can’t see God. If I trust God in all circumstances, I can pray that my faith may answer the cry of “why” in another. I believe that God surrounds us with people that we can help, not just physically, but spiritually by asking God to share what He has graciously provided us with. John the Baptist told us as much in this past Sunday’s gospel.

The crowds asked John the Baptist, “What should we do?” He said to them in reply, “Whoever has two cloaks should share with the person who has none.”

It’s time to put together another Christmas gift list. Spend time with the Lord asking Him who He is asking you to share your abundance with. In prayer ask Him to grace that person with your share of faith, hope, love, forgiveness… Let’s put Christ back in Christmas by spreading more of what He really came to bring. Amen.

A Christmas Godwink

Trust in the Lord Forever! (Isaiah 26:4)

“Everyone who listens to these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock.” (Matthew 7:24)

I know your works. Behold I have set before you an open door, which no one is able to shut; I know that you have little power and yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name. (Revelation 3:8)

Around fifteen years ago a friend gave me a book for Christmas, Christmas Godwinks. Godwinks are those coincidental moments that aren’t in fact coincidences. They are moments of encounter where the veil between heaven and earth is lifted enough that we experience the intervening power of God. They come in many forms and I try to hold them dear. This book is a compilation of people who witness God breaking through in extraordinary ways at Christmas. Last Thursday I was doing some packing. What to keep in Green Bay, what to take to Kingston, what more I can pair away. I was doing this in a greatly agitated state. I have honestly shared with you that uprooting and moving has not been a mentally tranquil process for a number of reasons. I will now honestly share that the enemy and I have been close and personal these past few months. Let me witness, He has a lot to share. I am an avid listener. Lately the battle has sounded a bit like this: “You know you can back out still. It’s not too late. Do you really want to do this? You know, you backed out of those three ministries, you can back away from this calling too. You’re a quitter, it’s what you do. You know you’re chickening out.” This is the litany of the enemy. This is what is running through my mind as I sifted books and I was tired, frustrated, scared, and discouraged, then I picked up Christmas Godwinks. I randomly opened the book and began reading. It was the story of a minister who was uprooting from Texan to Washington D.C. and as this transition was taking place he was filled with doubt and desperately seeking a sign that would let him know that he was in fact moving in the right direction. Like I said, Godwinks are coincidences that are not in fact coincidences. As the man prepared for a talk he had to give he came across a scripture verse from Revelation: “I know your works. Behold, I have set before you an open door which no one is able to shut.” I have never registered that verse, I have admittedly spent little time in revelation. On that day last week, in that hour, it was exactly what I needed to read. God is holding the door of this opportunity open for me, and it is a door which will not be shut. In prayer I turned to praise and thanksgiving for His moment of clarity and He provided one more. He put the enemy in his place. Those ministry “no’s” that I gave in the past two years? God showed me that if I had taken them, I would not be able to walk forward in this next step. He showed me that in those opportunities, if He had chosen, He could have help any one of those doors open too. In the past seven days the truth of that verse has played out several more times. These ‘challenges,’ that would normally send me into a tailspin of conversation with the enemy, now keep me faced resolutely forward. This Advent season I am going to double down on my efforts to keep Christ firmly rooted in my Christmas and when Satan comes knocking at the door? I am going to firmly inform him, “There is no room for you at this inn.” Where in your Advent are you allowing conversations with the enemy to pull you away from the manger of God’s love and mercy? Spend time reflecting on the nativity in your home or an image of that nativity and tell the baby Jesus just how grateful you are that He is coming because you really need His help. Then whisper all the ways that you are seeking freedom from the enemy. Amen.

Slow Down!

Come, let us climb the Lord’s mountain, to the house of the God of Jacob, tht He may instruct us in His ways, and we may walk in His paths. (Isaiah 2)

I will come to you in the silence. I will lift you from all your fears. In the shadow of the night, I will be your light, come now rest in Me. (Lyrics, You are mine)

This past Saturday, Jeff, Emma, and I slid into church for Mass a cool 4 minutes early. Our sacristan swooped in and said, “Oh good, my reader is here.” Short story shorter? I completely spaced that I was the one reading God’s Word that evening. Emma was home for her first visit since last Christmas and I was caught up in our usual post Thanksgiving “traditions.” I had not bothered to look at my calendar in almost 5 days. On Sunday night I sat down, opened up my planner and faced what I had been subconsciously avoiding. I didn’t have a “free” day until the 18th of December. On Monday I settled into my morning prayer time a little out of sorts (it had been delayed by coffee with Emma). As I read the readings and entered my prayer space two things happened. First, I heard God speak to my situation, [Slow down! Slow down! Slow down!]. Next I was transported back to my childhood in Milwaukee and those same words being called out to me in my rush: to get outside to recess, to get to lunch with friends (especially on Hot Dog day!), to rollerskate, to go to my friend Amy’s house, to get home for dinner. My pace hasn’t changed much in over forty years but the object of my pace has: running errands, cleaning the house, making dinner, doing laundry, helping at church, helping out friends, getting ready for Christmas, getting ready for moving (etc, etc, etc). [Slow down!] The night before (Sunday night) as I drifted to sleep the Lord replayed my day. It was not a Sabbath in any way. It was a production of unboxing every Christmas decoration from thirty years and curating keeps and gives. [Slow down!] God is inviting me to a different Advent. He is inviting me to separate myself from the frenetic pace that I have created. There are still three weeks of Advent left! Advent is about hope after all! What can I do to make room at the Inn of Quiet? Words settle on my heart, [From doing to experiencing]. I find myself asking myself if I can take the time to live my to do list: cookie making, card writing, present wrapping, adoration planning (etc). What if scheduling time becomes scheduling intentionality? The goal then in no longer the completion BUT the completing itself! We tend to be so busy getting through the “to do’s” because we believe the lie that we will then get to the “to enjoy.” I am starting to recognize my truth: I only add more to the “to do.” So yesterday I slowed down. I lived my “to do” from making our bed, to putting away laundry. I found myself able to voice gratitude that normally is overlooked: thank you for a warm bed to snuggle in each night, thank you for the variety of clothes that make me comfortable. How can you slow down this Advent? Spend time in prayer and see what our Savior has in mind.

God, I am in a rush. I am busy. It is my own doing. I want to slow down. I want to experience the wonder of Your creation, Your love, Your hope, and Your peace this season. I can not do this on my own, I fail. Grace me with Your patience, Your help, Your reminders. May I hear and heed, [Slow down!] Amen.

A seat at the table

A most blessed and Happy Thanksgiving to each of you who finds themselves reflecting on my reflections. Today (as in the day I am writing this) is Monday, October 21st. Yesterday in my morning prayer time, the Holy Spirit inspired this reflection which I am inspired to share with each of you this Thanksgiving as we prepare to gather around our own feast tables. May the grace and peace of our Lord walk with each of you as you encounter those who will gather around you this Thanksgiving.

James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came to Jesus and said to him,
"Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you." 
He replied, "What do you wish me to do for you?" 
They answered him, "Grant that in your glory
we may sit one at your right and the other at your left." 
Jesus said to them, "You do not know what you are asking. 
Can you drink the cup that I drink
or be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?" 
They said to him, "We can." 
Jesus said to them, "The cup that I drink, you will drink,
and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized;
but to sit at my right or at my left is not mine to give
but is for those for whom it has been prepared."  (Matthew 10)

Purgatory is a concept that I have struggled with. I know that this is a very Catholic concept and a very contentious one at that. In my reflection of purgatory my struggle has not been on the idea that when many of us die we will still need some ‘polishing’ up to become holy. I don’t believe that will be a ‘poof’ experience but some sort of process. What I have struggled with is some portrayals of purgatory: doom and gloom. On this particular morning, as I sit in prayer in the ‘fireplace’ room at Kingston, a childhood memory was sparked: my many years seated at the ‘kids table’ at family holidays. In my adult life the kids table has not existed, a lost remnant of larger families. Today’s Gospel brings to mind the promise of the heavenly wedding feast. James and John are trying to manipulate the seating chart for places of honor.What if purgatory is more like the ‘kid’s table’: a place that is still part of the feast, part of the family, but that is set aside for those who are not mature enough to join the ‘big table’ (you know the individuals who still have a propensity to throw a roll when asked to pass the rolls). Oftentimes there was an adult at the kid’s table to oversee the mayhem of so many immature souls, perhaps in heaven as well, we are guided by a spirit of wisdom to what is required to sit in the choice seats. Jesus tells us in today’s Gospel that it is not we who pick our seats, but our seat is chosen for us. I think that when pondering heaven, we can often fall into the James and John camp: we boldly think we have earned a prime spot. We are called to strive to be saints in this life so that we can be Saints (seated at the head table so to speak) in the next. Jesus throughout the Gospels models and teaches us to what this looks like. One particular Godpel stands out to me that ties well to today’s reflection…

When he noticed how the guests picked the places of honor at the table, he told them this parable: “When someone invites you to a wedding feast, do not take the place of honor, for a person more distinguished than you may have been invited. If so, the host who invited both of you will come and say to you, ‘Give this man your seat.’ Then, humiliated, you will have to take the least important place. But when you are invited, take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all your fellow guests. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.” (Luke 14)

This “holyday” season as we gather with friends and family let’s spend some time preparing for the tables we will sit around. What behaviors in my life keep me firmly at the spiritual ‘kids table’? What can I do differently this year that will reflect a readiness for a seat at the big table. Allow this Gospel to have it’s desired effect: begin with the humility that our seat is at the ‘kids table.’ This holiday season, while our brains work on the logistical details of our gatherings, spend some time in prayer asking our Father what is keeping us at the ‘kids table.’ Take the insight that God bestows and boldly ask for the grace to change whatever that ‘vice’ might be into it’s opposing virtue. May our holiday tables look a little more ‘holy’ this season. This will truly be something to be thankful for!

Live like you’re dying

Jesus said to his disciples:
"In those days after that tribulation
the sun will be darkened,
and the moon will not give its light,
and the stars will be falling from the sky,
and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.

"And then they will see 'the Son of Man coming in the clouds'
with great power and glory,
and then he will send out the angels
and gather his elect from the four winds,
from the end of the earth to the end of the sky.

"Learn a lesson from the fig tree.
When its branch becomes tender and sprouts leaves,
you know that summer is near.
In the same way, when you see these things happening,
know that he is near, at the gates. 
Amen, I say to you,
this generation will not pass away
until all these things have taken place. 
Heaven and earth will pass away,
but my words will not pass away.

"But of that day or hour, no one knows,
neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father." (Mark 13:24-32)

From the moment of our conception we begin our journey towards eternity. Eternity is not of this world and this earth; it is entered through the common gateway of death. For a span of time here on earth, our journey is marked by growth, by flourishing. There comes a tipping point where biologically we stop our cycle of physical growth, we maintain for a short duration, and then (God willing) we begin a long, slow period of decline. Death comes for everyone. I am well aware that this Gospel points to the ‘End Times’, however today this Gospel spoke to each of our own end times. From the porch of our Bed and Breakfast in Savannah, my mom watched a jogger zoom by through Forsythe Park across the way. As we sat eating a rather indulgent breakfast the juxtapositon of how we were spending our time was not lost on my mom. She shared her perspective by telling the jogger (just loud enough for our ears), “You’re still going to die.” What wisdom! We as a society hide from this truth. We spend billions (probably trillions) of dollars each year trying to deny our mortality. We eat vegan, paleo, mediterranean. We punish our bodies with strength training, cardio, HIIT. We pursue surgeries and chemotherapy. We try to cheat the system and beat death. We can’t. The next best thing would be to buy time or to know how much time we have. I have often been lured into the popular click baits: the best thing to eat every day, the one exercise to extend your life, what is your real biological age. Seven years ago my dad almost died twice in the span of a few hours on December 13, 2017 while undergoing surgery for bladder cancer. It turns out the bladder cancer was metastatic, a certain death sentence with a life expectancy around 18 months. He was started on a trial of Keytruda (write that name down all you who want to beat death) and told it may extend his life another 14 months. In the words of Lord Voldemort from Harry Potter, “The boy who lived!” Ah, the folly of man’s best guess.

But of that day or hour, no one knows

This morning in prayer a beautiful truth emerges: I am SO happy that I DIDN’T KNOW I would have at least seven more years with my dad. That perpetual sense of borrowed time that we have been living in has given us the sense of urgency in using our time truly judiciously. We have embraced each holiday as if it were the last (because it might be and one day will be). We have spent more time at Kingston with my dad and improving Kingston in ways that help him to enjoy Kingston more fully. Jeff and James have travelled to Canada A LOT with my dad in the last seven years. We went skiing even though I thought it was kinda crazy, but why not?! I have made sure to tell my dad I love him and to give him a hug every time I see him. If I had known I had so much time I would have been human and procrastinated. I have had more quality time not because I have had more time, but, because I have lived in the present moment while acknowledging the future reality of limited time. Here is another truth that was inspired by this Gospel. We have a savior who’s in the same boat of ‘not knowing’ with us!

No one knows…nor the Son

I had never considered those three words before, nor the Son. I have often struggled to believe that Jesus never stops giving up on us, never stops standing by our side, for those who will deny Him to their death. While this Gospel speaks to the global end times, perhaps it also speaks to our individual end time. Jesus stays with us in our trials, our sicknesses, our tribulations, our victories, our failures. Jesus stays with us in each present moment because it may be our last present moment and He doesn’t want to waste one opportunity to save us. Think about it. Here’s another way to look at this; when someone you love is struggling (whether with illness or life’s circumstances) if you knew they were going to come out the other side of this okay, would you invest the same amount of time, energy, and love on this moment of crisis?

But of that day or hour, no one knows

To quote an old Tim McGraw song, "Someday I hope you get the chance
To live like you were dying." Spend time in prayer with our Lord this week. Think about this, right now, each moment that we have breath in our lungs may be one of the last moments that we get to spend time with Him. What would you start changing if you were to truly start living the truth of our own mortality?

Space Invaders

“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. (Matthew 22:37-39)

Reset. Reset. Reset. That’s me, pushing the Holy Spirit button trying to re-center my day and my prayer. It has been one of those days of frustration. People are pushing my buttons. Obligations are pushing my buttons. Responsibilities are vying for attention and all of these things have taken over the hamster wheel of distraction inside my brain as I try (try being a very loose word) to pray (another “obligation”). In the midst of this mental chaos the Holy Spirit drops a blast from the past, the video game Space Invaders, and I have to laugh. Following this prompt I try to imagine all my distractions as descending spaceships and shoot them down one by one. Sadly this doesn’t work. Next I take all my distractions, imagine wrapping them up in a box, and I unceremoniously dump them in the arms of Mary, “Here, you watch these for a while so I can spend some quality time with your Son.” This does do the trick and it brings my mind back to the words of the Holy Spirit, [Space Invaders]. I have often shared with friends (probably with you as well) that there is a part of me that longs for the monastic life. The quiet contemplative life of the “Desert Fathers” where life doesn’t invade. I have often thought that in the space of isolation holiness would surely be more attainable. Without the invasion, demands, needs, and frustrations of the outside world, our spiritual world would have SO much less distractions to “shoot down.” This morning as the quiet focus of prayer takes hold and His voice is able to be heard I come to the realization that isolation is not the petri dish of holiness. True holiness is best achieved in the messiness of space invasion. I cannot grow in virtue independent of human relationship. People are not the problem; they are the practice field for love, mercy, forgiveness, patience, humility, kindness, gratitude, and generosity. I am called to love the Lord, my God, with all my heart, mind, soul, and strength in the midst of life not independent or isolated from it. Jesus reminds us of this calling when He answered the question, “Teacher, what is the greatest commandment?”

“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. (Matthew 22:37-39)

Jesus teaches us that these two are intertwined. I must stop wishing for the monastic life. Each day with it’s frustrations, interruptions, and interactions provides my sanctifying opportunities where grace abounds. Amen.

Lectio Collect: Final Take

Almighty ever-living God, Who in abundance of your kindness surpass the merits and the desires of those who entreat you, pour out your mercy on us to pardon what conscience dreads and to give what prayer does not dare ask.

To give what prayer does not dare ask.

Blessed are the meek and humble for they shall inherit the earth. (Matthew 5:5)

We live in a culture of taking what we feel is rightfully ours. We are encouraged to pursue our desires unapologetically. The only person who is going to look out for #1 is me when I am “numero uno.” Humility is knowing and living the truth that I am not Number One. Meekness isn’t mousiness either. Meekness is control. Meekness is holding myself back from taking. Holy Spirit enlightened me with these words, [Meekness is humility in action. Meekness is stepping back and allowing God to step in.] Meekness is trusting that God, who is Love and Mercy itself, will in fact give me far more than I will ever deserve. To dare not to ask, is to let go and let God. Profound! It is through meekness, this discipline of holding back from grabbing, taking, and claiming, that we, as God’s children, can finally be free to receive what God desires to abundantly give. Can I practice the discipline of meekness in my prayer? Can I model The Savior in my moments of need?

Not my will, but yours. (Luke 22:42)

Where in my life am I grabbing? Where am I number one? It is okay to tell The Father why you fear letting this go. Share your heart with Him; going back to the first reflection, starting in prayer is the start of humility. Ask Him for the grace to let go. Ask Him for the grace of trust. Be patient in the waiting. He has been infinitely patient waiting for you to finally let Him be number 1. Let go. Let God. Be renewed. Receive. Amen.