Second Saturday of Advent: Brick walls challenge resolve

“Elijah will indeed come and restore all things; but I tell you that Elijah has already come, and they did not recognize him but did to him whatever they pleased.  So also will the Son of Man suffer at their hands.” – Mt 17:11-12

On September 18, 2007, Carnegie Mellon computer science professor named Randy Pausch gave his last lecture before of dying pancreatic cancer a year later at the age of 47. His talk was meant to encourage his children to follow and achieve their childhood dreams with patience and persistence. Yet, millions of people have viewed his talk on YouTube, to see a man facing death with contagious energy, clear optimism, and a joyful purpose. One of his wise counsels was about seeing challenges as opportunities: “Brick walls are there for a reason. They let us show how badly we want things.”

I find an interesting parallel in attitude between Randy and Jesus. After coming down the mountain after his Transfiguration, Jesus faced a brick wall with his disciples, who impatiently asked about the prophesized return of Elijah before the “day of the Lord” (Mal 3:23). They apparently have to come believe that such coming of the Messiah would bring them the rewards they (as the Jewish people) had been long promised for their faithfulness. They did understand that the return of Elijah was fulfilled in the mission of John the Baptist. But they failed to understand that suffering must precede the realization of hope. That in the spiritual life, something has to die for something greater to emerge. Like a caterpillar dying to its worm-like life to be transformed into a butterfly. Like a baby leaving the inner world of his or her mother’s womb to become alive in the outer world. Although I try to be patient, I find myself caught up at times expecting instant results and fruits, in prayer as in people. At times, I focus on certainty rather than confidence, needing to know that something will happen and clinging to fear rather than trusting that God knows best and will bring it about in God’s time and God’s way. I am challenged to trust God’s dream more than follow what I think best.

I’m grateful to be reminded by Randy Pausch’s message that brick walls provide an opportunity to deepen resolve and deepen desire. Come to think of it, Randy’s role is more like John the Baptist than Jesus’. He points to way to the One who can help us beyond brick walls. To see brick walls as stepping stones rather than stumbling blocks.

How am I clinging to certainty? Or am I trusting with confidence? Help me, O Lord, to trust in your mysterious ways and that you seek what is best for us.

Friday of the Second Week of Advent

"If you would hearken to my commandments,
your prosperity would be like a river,
and your vindication like the waves of the sea;
Your descendants would be like the sand,
and those born of your stock like its grains,
Their name never cut off
or blotted out from my presence." Is 48:18-19

There is something that is so very comforting about this promise that God makes to us through the Prophet Isaiah. It's obvious really, so simple; it's something that we repeat time and time again to ourselves and those around us: if we follow the commands that God has given us, we will be eternally rewarded. But, in reality, just to follow is not that simple. Apparently the Church, and in turn God, has quite a sense of humor around this subject.

The Gospel speaks of Jesus addressing the crowds who doubt that he is the Messiah. Mind you, the Jewish people have been waiting for the one that God was to redeem them by for thousands of years. They knew what he was to be, how he was to act, and what he was going to do for the people. They knew it! Yet they didn't know. So many wise and learned men stood toe to toe with Jesus and couldn't see who he was because they were so focused on what they wanted him to be. Jesus was ritually unclean because he associated with the sick and sinners. Culture had taught the Jews to avoid the outsiders. Unfortunately, this resulted in the dehumanizing of those people who were in greatest need of love. Those who did see Jesus for what he truly was were witness to a light beyond all compare. It is through those men and women with open hearts that the world was set ablaze.

Lord, what keeps me from seeing you as you truly are? Do I let what I want Jesus to be stand in the way of how Jesus has revealed himself to me?

"Ite Inflammate Omnia" - St. Ignatius of Loyola

reflected by Matthew Keppel

Invitations of Trust

“For nothing will be impossible for God.” – Luke 1:37

Today’s Gospel recalls a scene I’ve known well since childhood, a staple in my church’s annual Christmas play: the Angel Gabriel appears to Mary, announcing that she will become the mother of a boy named Jesus. It never occurred to me until recent years, though, that this could have gone quite differently. After all, God gave each of us free will, didn’t He? Mary could have just as well said “No” to this visitor who came with such a strange greeting.

What was it, then, that allowed Mary the freedom to say “Yes” in the midst of the uncertainty that was placed before her? I would imagine that the situation seemed murky at best, and probably downright scary. Yet, she was open. As we celebrate her Immaculate Conception today, we are able to see how her focus on God, away from the distractions of sin, gave way to a deep trust and confidence in His promise, His word.

Invitations come my way too, well beyond my understanding. To look at dreams, brokenness, pains, desires. They are rabbit holes and craters in my life where God wants to do some open-heart surgery and give birth to a new reality of life. It sometimes gets really scary! Yet, even though I wasn’t born without sin like Mary, I’m nudged with just enough courage to try and say “Yes” through her intercession and God's grace. I'm learning that oftentimes, it’s just to take the next step – not being able to see much more, if anything, beyond that. Yet, it’s enough. If I know that I am trying my best to stay close to God, what more do I really need to know?

What areas in my life might I be invited to take a deeper look into right now? What fears might I notice surfacing? What grace do I need to try and say “Yes”?

O Mary conceived without sin, pray for us.

reflected by Quyen Ngo

Memorial of St. Ambrose, Bishop and Doctor of the Church

“...learn from me...you will find rest for yourselves.” Mt. 11: 29

The readings today say two main things to me. God’s in charge; He can handle it. And, God gives us rest. In Isaiah, God asks, incredulously, why the people cry out, "My way is hidden from the LORD, and my right is disregarded by my God.” I love the response: “Do you not know, or have you not heard” that God is the eternal creator who does not grow weary of caring for you? Rhetorical question or a awesome example of Divine sarcasm?

I have the sense of God asking: “Seriously? What part of ‘omnipotent’ has got you stumped? I got you.” I hear God’s exasperation at my own thick-headedness. It calls me to remember that the God who made everything knows, cares and answers my needs. The second part of the first reading and Gospel both remind me that God’s life in me will give me rest.

The Gospel has another line that I love. Jesus says, “I will give you rest.” But next words are not, “put your feet up” or “sit a while.” They are: “hey, carry this with me.” The whole point of this reading for me - which I have read often in the last year - is the “with me” part. The sooner I shoulder up to Christ, and try to carry the load by His example, the easier this all gets. Then, the wellspring of Life itself begins to well up in me and I find rest. When I try to carry a different yoke, or carry the one Christ offered in some novel way, I hear Jesus say to me in my heart, as a beloved teacher or a caring parent: “Not like that; try it the way I showed you.” Then I can say with the psalmist “O bless the Lord, my soul!”

How do I try daily to follow Christ’s example?

What burden, distress or sadness has made me weary? How has God shown tireless care for me?

How is God inviting me this Advent to renew my strength?

St. Ambrose, pray for us.

reflected by Jason Coito

Feast of Saint Nicholas

This Thanksgiving, I was asked to think of 3 things this year that I was thankful for. Surprisingly, THE struggle made the list! I thought I was doing well with God… a few other disappointments and I found such peace and joy in Him. But when the economic delays hit my finances and even more so, when I was concretely helpless in others’ struggles, it hit me.

This was/is the year to face my limitations and weaknesses. During the time when the job hunt got rough, I couldn’t understand why I was so discouraged and couldn’t find joy in Christ.

Today’s Gospel reading reminds me of our limitations. How the paralytic, because of his disability, couldn’t reach Jesus amongst the crowd. But thanks to his friends who carried him on a stretcher through the roof, he was able meet Jesus and be healed.

The beauty of community. How God uses the relationships around us to bring us to His fulfillment. My pride got in the way of this awareness at first, but by frustration then grace, I was able to see that people around me gladly extended to help and were willing to embrace all of me… weaknesses and all. Being more open and honest with this area (to myself, others, and to God), was a new thing to me. It was rough, but then again, God’s not boring; and really, I probably wouldn’t have listened any other way.

Who are the “stretcher- carriers” in your life? Who fills your limitations and brings you back home where you feel most safe and loved?

God of Surprises! You remind me of a Vietnamese chef. My mom uses the bone for this dish, the fat for that... thank You for using all of me, even the parts that I feel are unfit, to nurture growth, relate to others, and to draw me close to You. May I "go when You tell me to go and stay where You tell me to stay" even when it hurts. For in this present moment, You are here.

reflected by Chau Nguyen

Second Sunday of Advent

“I am baptizing you with water, for repentance, but the one who is coming after me is mightier than I. I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.” – Mt 3:11

Often times, it is easier to say sorry than to change one’s mind. I apologize often; and most of the time, I am genuinely sorry. This is part of what John the Baptist means by repentance. However, the Greek word for repentance, “metanoia,” means more. Literally “metá” means “beyond” and “noos” means “mind.” Hence, metanoia signifies a change of mind, a shift in mindset, a different way of seeing the world, ourselves, and others. This shift of mind triggers a conversion of heart and change in the way one relates to others, God, and self.

To my surprise, there are occasions when a conversion of mind and heart happens in me, beyond just saying sorry. I had an “allergic reaction” to a brother in the house. When I am physically near him, I feel like a bomb goes off inside. I feel agitated, annoyed, anxious, tempted to judge. I also feel bad and guilty for having these feelings. It took me some time, but slowly I learned just to let my feelings be without judging myself. I learned to embrace these negative feelings, be at peace, and actually listen to discover what might be going on within me. Gradually, I became more honest with myself and to even allow God in, to make space for God. I tried to look at my brother Jesuit with the eyes and heart of Jesus, to imagine Jesus being with him, caring for me, and loving him in his needs and struggles. I tried to pray this brother, for his well-being, even to imagine how I could cooperate with Jesus in loving the man. It took some time. But I began to notice a shift in attitude, in the way I see this Jesuit brother, with the way I relate with him. I became a bit more patient with myself, and grew to trust God more. Perhaps this is a glimpse into the baptism with “the Holy Spirit and fire” that John the Baptist announces: a conversion from rejecting my “allergic reactions”; a conversion for greater acceptance of someone quite different from myself. I am grateful for this change.

Lord, what negative feelings do you invite me to embrace and listen without judgment? Who do you invite me to greater acceptance, including accepting myself?

Saturday of the First Week of Advent

"Without cost you have received; without cost you are to give.” - Matthew 9:35-10:8

In today's Gospel, Jesus gives his disciples not just the authority to perform miracles but a special mission to give of themselves to the "troubled and abandoned" and "lost sheep". When we think of giving ourselves to others, we naturally think of our talents. Our talents are our unique abilities that we can do especially well. However, in thinking that we give only from our talents, we start to forget that what we can do exceptionally well does not completely define the extent from which we can give.

We each may have a few talents, but our gifts are more abundant. Henri Nouwen wrote, "our gifts are the many ways in which we express our humanity...friendship, kindness, patience, joy, peace, forgiveness, gentleness, love, hope, trust..." These gifts are often things we take for granted and do not think as gifts to give others. For most of our lives, we sometimes struggle to give because we remember how hard we had to work to cultivate and maintain our talents. So, the idea of giving it away to those who did not put in the time to earn these talents sometimes seems unfair to us. However, we must remember that God is the source of all good things. He freely gave us the seeds of our talents and our gifts so we may give to others.

"True joy, happiness, and inner peace come from the giving of ourselves to others". Lord, grant us the grace to give freely to others the same joy, happiness, peace, and love that we experience when we acknowledge and show gratitude for your gifts to us.

Are we aware of the gifts we have in our daily lives? How can we be more willing and alert to times when God calls us to give to others?

adapted anonymously from Henri Nouwen

Friday of the First Week of Advent

"The LORD is my light and my salvation;
whom should I fear?
The LORD is my life's refuge;
of whom should I be afraid?" Psalm 27:1

Today's Gospel gives us a short story about two blind men begging on the streets in Capernaum. The life of a beggar in the ancient world was dictated entirely on the place that you were begging. They would have specific spots that they held as their own; places that they can count on people to pass by and give them alms. This was their livelihood; this was how they survived. As Jesus passes by, the two men leave their places and follow Jesus! They are unable to see, yet they throw caution into the wind and follow Jesus. By the time the two men get to him, Jesus has already entered a home, yet they still enter a stranger's home to talk to him.

What blindness do we have in our own lives? What is it that keeps us from getting away from what is comfortable in our lives? Wednesday we heard of the calling of the first Apostles, earlier in Matthew 9 we hear of the call of Matthew, and it seems that so often we wait for Jesus to call us to himself directly. Sometimes the call is much more subtle. In the case of these blind men, all they knew was that Jesus had passed by and they needed to be with him. No words exchanged. Jesus didn't pick them up. The blind men followed him. They just needed to be with him. We need to be with him. And as happens in the story, Jesus will always welcome those to come to him.

Lord, grant us the faith to run to you that we may be cured of our blindness.

reflected by Matthew Keppel

Admitting Allegiances: Thursday, First Week of Advent

"Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the Kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven.” – Mt 7:21

Richard Rohr remarked poignantly that we cannot genuinely pray “Thy Kingdom come” (as in the Our Father) out of one side of our mouths without saying “my kingdom go” out of the other side of our mouths. Moreover, we cannot serve two masters; we will always love one while ignoring the other (Mt 6:24). We often trust our own political parties, military, banks, credit cards, financial resources, families, cultural or religious groupings, significant others, or our own education or strengths more than God’s goodness and promise. When this happens, we are really saying with our actions, that we don’t genuinely want God’s kingdom to come.

Consecrated religious like me live by three vows: obedience, chastity, poverty. Of the three, I struggle the most with the third. More often than not, when I do not embrace actual or spiritual poverty, I will soon falter in the other two vows. Embracing poverty means placing greater trust in God’s Providential care and less on my own abilities, the financial stability of the Jesuits, or the goodness of people to provide. These are not mutual exclusive things, to rely on others’ goodness or in God’s. However, when I overly worry for a friend who suffers or another who cannot find a job, or overwork to get things done the way I’d like, or overcome by fears, or have my day “made”  by one person’s praise or “ruined” by another’s critique, am I just saying “Thy Kingdom come” but not letting other kingdoms go. This is a sobering realization.

While it is difficult, painful, humbling to admit that I really trust that other thing, myself, or person more than God in my present choices, it is also freeing. Some days, I may have to acknowledge to God, “Lord, I’m doing it again, do you still love me?” some 50-100 times. Yet, gradually, a shift is made, whether I am aware of it or not. A focus away from myself and from my other allegiances. A greater reliance on God.

Maybe this is what Jesus means later in today’s Gospel when he challenges us to build houses on solid rock foundations rather than on sand.

What “kingdoms” do you and I need to let go to make room for the Kingdom of God? It can begin with an open-eyed stance and acknowledgment, “Lord, I’m doing it again, do you love me?” or “Lord, I’m doing it again, please help/heal me.”

Following (with) Imagination: Feast of St Andrew

“At once they left their nets and followed him … and immediately they left their boat and their father and followed him.” – Mt 4:20, 22

The call of Andrew and the first disciples is at once inspiring and daunting to me. How can the disciples follow, decisively and definitively, someone they hardly knew? I, like others, have been captivated and have followed. But my fears, sins, and limitations have often kept me back. It seems as if the more I follow Christ, the more I am challenged to be countercultural, the more I am confronted with my failures and unfaithfulness.

Yet, something else is also at work.

The parallel passage to today’s Gospel is Luke 5:1-11. We see Jesus meeting the disciples when they are down and out. They fished all night yet caught nothing. They had given up for the day. When they followed his guidance, not without some disbelief, they were surprised by the biggest catch. Peter did not want to follow because he defined himself as a sinner. Acknowledging this before Jesus begins to free his imagination to how greater he and his life can be. Likewise in my life, my failures and limitations can be gateways to grace – to genuine encounters with Jesus who unlocks my imagination to something greater.

That something greater might be called hidden grace. Grace as strength to face my failures and limitations. Grace to re-imagine stumbling blocks as launching pads. Grace to risk and take another step in following.

Although I would modify the way she poses her “life defining” question, Amy Purdy is inspiring in this TED video:

“Instead of looking at our challenges and our limitations as something negative or bad, we can begin to look at them as blessings – magnificent gifts that can be used to ignite our imagination to help us go further than we ever knew we could go.” – Amy Purdy

What if we ask God for the grace of imagination? Then face our present fears and failures but focus on God’s personal love and grace.