Tuesday of the First Week of Lent - Slow and with Intention

“Your Father knows what you need before you ask him. This is how you are to pray: Our Father who art in heaven...” - Matthew 6:7-15 

The Lord’s Prayer is the first prayer I learned and memorized as a child. Similar to communion, it is the one part of mass where I feel at my utmost peace. Although the words may remain the same, its significance differs with each experience. In the prayer, there is a special emphasis on forgiveness, received and given. When we allow our hearts to enter into a state of forgiveness, we free ourselves to enjoy life and from the dependence on what others do or do not do to us. We open ourselves to a greater and deeper love that God has for each of us. 

For any relationship to strengthen and grow, it requires effort and communication. As we begin our Lenten journey, Jesus invites us to reflect upon what we are actually doing when we pray. Although we may understand and know what the prayers are about, there lies a silver lining of becoming familiar with something and the danger of complacency. He is not only asking for our words, but our hearts and attitudes as well. When I pray, do I seek to deepen my relationship with God? How conscious are my words and thoughts? 

Prayer is a true gesture of self, an invitation to surrender and be in honest conversation with God. It encourages us to to sift through our memories and see how God is present in our relationships, challenges, frustrations, and emotions. Not only do we pour our hearts to Him in prayer, we are also saying, “Here God, let me tell you what is on my heart so that it may be Yours.” Beauty lies in our vulnerability, complex emotions, and authentic imperfections. When we allow ourselves and God to embrace who we are, we are expressing a desire to have a sincere and genuine connection with Him. We are led into a journey of reflection, deepening of our self-knowledge, and increasing our love and dependence on Him. 

Lord, enfold me in the depths of your heart. 

Reflected by Tam Lontok

Monday of the First Week of Lent - God's Healing Presence

"Be merciful just as your Father is merciful. Do not judge, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven." – Luke 6:36-37 

We are all wounded people. Who wounds us? Often by those whom we love and those who love us. When we feel rejected, abandoned, abused, manipulated, or violated, it is mostly by people very close to us: our parents, our friends, our spouses, our lovers, our children, our neighbors, our teachers, our pastors. We too, wound those close to us. That's the tragedy of our lives. This is what makes forgiveness from the heart difficult. It is precisely our hearts that are wounded. We cry out, “You, who I expect to be there for me, you have abandoned me. How can I ever forgive you for that?”

Forgiveness often seems impossible, but nothing is impossible for God. It involves seeing with the eyes of God, with the heart of Christ. This has been very helpful in my life: to imagine myself in the presence of Jesus/God and “sit with” the pains of hurt, abandonment, or betrayal. To be in God’s healing presence; even with Jesus forsaken on the cross. Gradually, mysteriously, we may begin to see through the heart of things, that we inadvertently place our longing for unconditional love in limited, frail human beings. We may begin to see with God’s great compassion that we are all wounded people, that we all long to live deep within the very heart of God, to be God’s Beloved. This is not easy, but Jesus has already and is walking that path with us. With God, all things are possible.

"Lord, help me to forgive all who have hurt me. With whom are you inviting me to begin?” 

Inspired by Henri Nouwen

First Sunday of Lent - A Greater Mercy

“The LORD God… blew into his nostrils the breath of life, and so man became a living being.” –Genesis 2:7 

Many of us are familiar with the story of “the fall” in the Garden of Eden and the first sins of humanity. Reading and praying with the passages this Sunday, we might be tempted to focus on our own failures and sinfulness. Yet, the central message of the three readings is not that we are bad or should feel guilty for falling short of Jesus’ strength in resisting temptation.

The primary message is how incredibly good God is to us, constantly offering the source of life. While Satan offers Jesus food, power, and an illusion of control, God has created a space where the conditions are optimal for us to meet Him. We are free to either join God in the space He has created for us or to attempt to build our own sense of security.

For me, this reliance on false promises is particularly seductive when I am feeling most alone or like my life is out of control. I grasp at whatever might fill this void and restore my previous homeostasis. But what if that feeling of hunger is actually an invitation to look at my deeper longing for God? What if the sense of powerlessness is actually an invitation to trust more that God has been looking out for me?

We can look at the Garden of Eden as a literal, physical space where Adam and Eve lived in a paradise with God. The challenge for me is to imagine a space God has created that is perfectly suited as a meeting place just for Him and I. Just as my best friend and I have a special restaurant that is “our place” to meet up for significant conversations, I imagine God fashioning “our place” that is unique to us. When I am feeling lonely or tempted, I can spend a lot of energy trying to feel like I am in control or I can simply choose to pull up a chair at my rendezvous spot with God and trust that no matter what time it is, he will already be there waiting for me with a cup of my favorite coffee. 

What has breathed life into my body and soul today? How have I allowed myself to be met by God?

Saturday after Ash Wednesday - Human Love Reflects God's Love

Jesus answered, "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I have come to call not the righteous but sinners to repentance." - Luke 5:31-32 

It is not easy for us to accept that we are sick, broken, in need of healing. Some of our wounds come from longing to be loved unconditionally by other people. While our parents, brothers, sisters, teachers, friends, or spouses can love us in deep and meaningful ways, their love cannot fully satisfy our deep longing. While human loves can reflect God’s love without condition, they are limited and broken. No human love fulfills our hearts desire, and sometimes human love is so imperfect that we can hardly recognize it as love.

When our broken love is the only love we experience, we are easily thrown into despair. But when we live our broken love as a partial reflection of God's perfect, unconditional love, we can forgive one another and enjoy the love we have to offer. When we acknowledge ourselves as sinners who expect people to love us perfectly as God loves, we make space in for God. We allow God’s indwelling Spirit to heal our wounds, purifies our desires, and unites us with God, whose personal and abiding love surpasses our wildest imaginations. 

“O God, help me to seek in You more than in others the perfect love they cannot give.” 

Inspired by Henri Nouwen

Friday after Ash Wednesday - A Humble Heart

I always seem to find myself struggling to “get into the Lenten routine.” No matter how much I plan ahead, or look ahead on the calendar, it always seems to sneak up on me. I find myself struggling to figure out something “to do” – whether it is an addition of a new positive practice or a giving up of something that might help me to focus more on God. A handful of times in my life I think the practice I adopted during Lent really affected my life. Often though, I have had trouble really identifying some practice that seems appropriate for Lent.

I get the same panicky feeling like when I am trying to order food at a place like Panera Bread and the line is piling up behind me, people sending menacing glances my way. So I just blurt out the first thing on the menu that catches my eye, only to sit down with something that looks totally unappealing to me. I pick a Lenten practice so that I have something to answer when people ask “what are you doing for Lent?” but whatever I select to do usually doesn’t feel like it is bringing me any closer to God.

The Psalm for today focuses on the cultivation of a “heart contrite and humbled” (Psalm 51). The humble heart is the offering to God, not the practice of fasting or self-denial itself. Instead of stressing about finding something to DO for Lent, I spent time focusing on this attitude of a humble heart before God. The practices I am adopting are things that I felt would help me on the real journey of Lent, the preparation of my own heart to journey with Christ in his suffering. Whatever we chose to do in regards to fasting, serving, praying, and giving, these things are an opportunity to prepare ourselves to more fully for this offering of self. 

If you are like me sometimes and have not committed to any particular practice yet, ask, “Lord I want to offer my heart to you? Is there anything I can do in my daily life that would help me in that desire?”

Reflected by Jen Coito

Thursday after Ash Wednesday - God Never Gives Up Loving Us

“Today I have set before you life and prosperity, death and doom … Choose life! – Deut 30:15 

We often confuse unconditional love with unconditional approval. God loves us without conditions but does not approve of every human behavior. God doesn’t approve of betrayal, abuse, violence, hatred, suspicion, and all other expressions of evil, because they all contradict the love God instills in the human heart. Evil is the absence of God’s love. Evil does not belong to God.

God’s unconditional love means that God continues to love us even when we say or think evil things. The injunction to “choose life” is not a condition of God’s love for us. Rather, it describes the path to happiness and fulfillment. God continues to wait for us as a loving parent waits for the return of a lost child. Whereas our sins may keep us from God; but they can never keep God from us.

Not only does God never gives up loving us, but God chooses to create us anew every moment with each breath we take and each beating of our own hearts which continue to give life. God chooses us as we are, regardless of our response. The challenge to “choose life” is grounded in the truth that God has already chosen us, over and over again ... persistently ... patiently ... 

“O God, when we are most tempted to give up on ourselves, help us to remember that you never give up on us.” 

Adapted from Henri Nouwen

Ash Wednesday: God Longs for Us to Embrace Deeper Love

“Behold, now is a very acceptable time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” – 2 Cor 6:2

“Return to me with your whole heart.”– Joel 2:12

The more deeply we love, the more we long to be with those we love. God is similar, except infinitely more so. God’s love for us does not depend on our looks, intelligence, performance, success, popularity, or faithfulness. God does not love us more if we make good choices, get better, or even come back to God. Yet, the more we embrace ourselves as loved without condition, the more we will grow and become transformed.

God invites us through the Lenten journey to make greater space in our hearts and lives so that the unconditional love of God that is already offered can take greater root and bear lasting fruit. The disciplines of fasting (from what does not give life or promote justice), almsgiving (sharing our time, care, and resources), and prayer (attentiveness to God) are invitations to set apart time and space so that we can come to realize more deeply God’s longing for us and to discover greater God’s dream for our lives. We are invited to enter the desert of our inner landscape to acknowledge any area of unfreedom and allow God’s merciful love to transform us.

Lent is this acceptable time, the season that we embrace God’s longing to come closer. God beckons and waits for us to make room, to embrace ourselves as loved beyond our wildest imaginings and treat others likewise. Let us enter this Lenten time of spiritual renewal with generosity and desire for meaningful transformation.

How will you respond to this longing of God, this invitation to embrace love more deeply?

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Feast of the Baptism of the Lord: A Resounding Yes

“And a voice came from the heavens, saying, 'This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.’” - Mt 3:13-17

Today marks the beginning of Ordinary Time and the official end of Christmas. The rest of the world seems to have already moved on to the next big thing...Christmas decorations that once filled every store I went to have been replaced by Valentine's day cards...gyms are extra crowded with people trying to stay true to their New Year's resolutions…work and social schedules are packed full of things to do, places to go to, people to see...but for some reason, I find myself less eager to move on this year. 

Maybe it's because this is our first Christmas as newly weds or because it was the first Christmas that I spent away from my immediate family…maybe it's because I got really sick and didn't have as much time to really prepare for Christmas so it seems to have gone by so quickly…or maybe...getting so sick was a blessing in that I didn't have the energy to get caught up too much (or at least for too long) in all the hustle and bustle that often comes with getting ready for Christmas, that spending Christmas with my new husband and his family allowed me see Christmas from a different perspective…maybe, maybe...

Whatever the reason may be, it seems like God is inviting me to just remain here…to let the spirit of Christmas linger in my heart...to savor it…to be still...and know that He is already with us…truly…even in all the muck of life…that He is with me and He loves me…wait, really? Would God still call me His “beloved” if He knew me, I mean, really knew me and all that I've done and sometimes continue to do? Would He rest His favor in me? As someone who often has a hard time accepting love, these questions often make me feel uneasy. Yet, despite my resistance and uneasiness, a voice from within resounds: "Yes."

Lord, may we embrace enough silence and solitude so that God's loving voice resounds from within. May we marinate in the incredible gift that we are already God's beloved children.

Reflected by Kim Nguyen Lehr

Saturday after Epiphany: A Great Joy

"So this joy of mine has been made complete. He must increase; I must decrease." - John 3: 29-30

John saw that his mission was drawing to an end just as Jesus' mission was beginning, and John found great joy in this. There is always joy when we receive confirmation of our own testimony, but John's joy was even greater. The Messiah had come at last! Now it was time for John to decrease while Jesus increased.

As Christ enters my life more and more completely, I find these words to be true for me as well. Flannery O'Connor wrote in her prayer journal that God was like a crescent moon shining in her life, and that she was the shadow that made up the rest of the moon. She felt fear that her shadow might grow to blot out the shining light of God. I saw the truth in this. My worldly concerns and attachments can get in the way of the light in my life. These parts of me that are invested in the world must decrease while I give more and more of myself to Christ, and there is great joy in this, not only my joy, but God's joy as well.

What in my life must decrease so that Christ may increase? How may I cooperate with God to bring more light and joy into my life?
Reflected by Sharon Sullivan

Friday after Epiphany: But Only Say the Word

“Lord, if you wish, you can make me clean.”… “I do will it. Be made clean.” - Lk 5:12-13

All of us have some aspect of our lives that we try to keep hidden behind the locked doors of our hearts: a shameful past, a secret sin, a hidden addiction, a “leprosy” if you will, that is slowly eating up at our hearts, yet desperately crying out for healing from Jesus.  The problem is that we’ve become so comfortable with keeping those things hidden from view, that we don’t know how to be otherwise.

What part of our broken lives is desperately waiting for Christ to enter, but is too afraid, too ashamed, too guilty, too self-loathing, too fearful, too rigid, too prideful, too disgusted to allow Christ to enter because we feel we’re unworthy of him?

We need only remember what we now say at mass, “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof…”, and here’s the important part, “…but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.”  The sense of unworthiness can often be so overwhelming that we tend to push Jesus away by saying “Oh, you can’t come in Lord!  My ‘house, my life is too messy, dirty, imperfect, and impure for you to set foot in my life.  Come back another time.”  Meanwhile, Jesus continues to stand at the door of our hearts, knocking, ready to say the word so our souls can be healed. We prevent him from coming in!

Despite ourselves, God comes unexpectedly into the ordinary brokenness of our humanity, wanting to be with us, as we are, and desiring only to love us – even those parts we think are unlovable. In the words of the spiritual writer, Annie Lamott, “God grace always meets us where we are, and never leaves us where it found us.”

As the Christmas season comes to a close, there is still one last present waiting to be opened.  It’s the gift of HEALING and FREEDOM that Jesus alone can give; a freedom that allows us to live our lives the best we can, with humility, honesty, and JOY. It’s time to let Christ enter into those locked doors of our hearts, to say the word, so that we can be healed, so that we can “be made clean!”

Reflected by Fr. Radmar Jao, SJ