Reflections on Jesus’ Prayer

“Now this is eternal life, that they should know you, the only true God, and the one whom you sent, Jesus Christ.”

 

“Eternal life”—what do these words mean? It is the life that we want. All of us had some experiences of fulfillment, events that made us happy and free, experiences that gave us recognition of our absolute worth. They were experiences that told us that life makes sense. It could be throwing a touchdown pass, spending time with your friends on the beach, being in the arms of a loved one. In all of those experiences, we understood that life really is good and we did not want that experience to end. That is eternal life—that the happy moments of our lives never end. This is the life that we are created for and is the only reason for living, for our studies, for doing the works we do. The Christian message is that life is beautiful and happy. How often do we see our faith simply as a bunch of rules and sacrifices? Many Christians, with great intent, often speak of a Christian life as one of sacrifice. It is true that Christians sacrifice many things but the saints never saw it as giving up anything essential.

I remember a man thinking about priesthood. This man was a flirt. He could not resist flirting with any girl who was at least half-decently looking. A young girl once said, “You cannot be a priest. You love girls too much!” It was true that the man loved girls a lot. But does this mean that he should not be a priest? It is interesting that the young girl’s remark resembles the narrow conception of love the modern world has. The young man should have answered, “It is precisely because I love these women that I would be a priest. To love them means to love them as I love myself. And I love myself to the extent that I love my destiny, my vocation. To love them means to affirm who they are, who gave them to me, possess them in such a way that nobody can. I will possess them because I love them in Christ. I will choose priesthood precisely because I love women.” What the young girl lacked was a conception of love that knows no limits. Her narrow definition of love makes an idol out of God because it is a reduction of reality, of one’s heart and its desires.

Human love was created precisely for divine love, an eros that is fully self-giving. Jesus was right in that there are no husbands and wives in heaven. This is not because the husbands would not love their wives in heaven. It just means that the human love that we experience here on earth will be perfected in heaven. Husbands will love their wives in a greater way, that is, through and in divine love. Celibacy is more than human love; it is ascending to divine love. It is heaven on earth. To put it in another way, celibacy is God telling the person, “I cannot wait for heaven to love you this way.”

I tell this story of the young man who loved girls because it is often the case that we have reduced our desires to something finite, to what which is not lasting. It is true that when a football player throws a touchdown, he has the experience of feeling like he is exactly where he should be. But to think he should define his life by his success as a football player would be making a mockery of himself. His experience as a football player is a sign, a promise, that there is more to come. Football should be a part of his life but not the defining factor. What defines him is God who became man so that he may have life and live it abundantly.

We often find ourselves having a hard time with sacrifices because we have already limited our desires, our wants, to something that cannot last. Christianity, however, tells us to fix our gaze on what is lasting, to look to the eternal because anything less is unsatisfying.

 

“…that they should know you, the only true God.”

 

A happy life, eternal life, is knowledge of God. Knowledge of God is a familiarity. It is not an intellectual abstraction but an intimacy with the Other who loves us infinitely. But how often are we stuck in our skepticisms toward God? Many times we find the Christian life to be burdensome. We often try to live a virtuous life and yet we somehow fail to see our place in this world, our worth, and we even fall into sin. We find ourselves in a sadness that can turn into despair. Despair—this comes from skepticism. There are many events in our lives that did not go the way we expected that made us lose certainty of our place in this world. This is eternal life—that we become certain of everything; “that they should know you, the only true God.” Faith is not a leap but God’s gift of certainty to us.

Skepticism is the opposite of faith, of knowledge. It is essentially denying or doubting that God, who is our Destiny dwelling in the present moment, can become everything in our lives. What is a sign of skepticism? Dualism. That is, when we live a life that is schizophrenic, a life where God is there in one moment and gone the next. In other words, dualism is a partly opened heart. How much space do we have for God in our hearts? Do we go to our work half-heartedly? Do we doubt our talents and desires? Do we have a hard time with patience? Skepticism is failing to affirm who God is. Like Adam, it makes us run to the bushes, close our hearts, because we do not want God to enter. It is what leads to idolatry, for to close a part of one’s heart means you will worship something else rather than “the only true God.” All of us can remember in our lives when we closed our hearts to God and how we became enslaved to our own ideals, becoming a caricature of ourselves. In the end, it just made us unhappy. Skepticism, dualism, idolatry—the anti-trinitarian life makes us a Gollum; it makes us ugly and unhappy. No wonder, then, that Christ said that eternal life is precisely the opposite of skepticism, dualism, and idolatry; it is knowledge of the one true God.

 

“Now this is eternal life…that they should know…the one whom you sent, Jesus Christ.”

 

Prayer is recognizing that we cannot do anything by ourselves and recognition of God’s absolute power. The word “power” seems so cliché and non-Christian that we sometimes do not want to use it. But it is precisely understanding what the power of God is that will destroy the misconceptions the world has about the word. Power is liberation from slavery, from the caricatures we have made for ourselves. It is moving us to become more of ourselves, of becoming more human. It is here that we understand that the power of God is understanding the Fatherhood of God.

God is a Father to us in that He wants us to be free, to adhere to what is true, especially about ourselves. How do we know that God is a Father? From the One who was sent. The world was skeptical. It found itself wandering around, lost in the cosmos. And then there was an Intruder who came to give us certainty about our place in this world, to give us a certainty about our own hearts which asks for the infinite. The Intruder tells us to follow him and tells us that our place in this world is in the arms of his Father. The Son is the Intruder, the One who has died and risen from the dead. The crucified-risen One manifests to us that God can become everything in our lives. We look at the hands and feet of the Risen One and see that God never abandons him who gives his whole spirit to Him even though he is at the point of death. The Risen One was dominated by his Father and his love was better than life; life without love is hell. Christ descended into hell so that we can never despair, we can never suffer alone.

How can we know Christ? How can we know he who our God sent so that we are never alone, that we can be certain of our destiny? Through and in the Church, which is guided by the Spirit. In the Church, that is, in our friendship, we begin to desire Christ more intensely, more fervently. We concretely understand that the Spirit will never coerce us but awakens our freedom. Life in the Spirit of the Father and of Christ is life in the Church, which is a communion between God and man (1 Jn. 1:1-4). We begin to see the face of Christ in each other.

A lot of Christians think that life is individualistic. Rather, the Christian life is having lunch with a friend who moves you to think about and understand your life with Christ. It is hiking a mountain together so that beauty is co-experienced. It is having affection for those who are in need. In doing these things, we begin to see that we could not have done this by ourselves because we have our own skepticisms and frailties. Nor can we say that we are friends because we have the same mission in life. If we experience happiness with each other, it is because of grace, of the generosity of the Father who gave us His Son so that we will have His Spirit dwelling in us. We can find a place in this world because who we are made for has made Himself known to us. He has graced us with His presence so that we can feel at home in this world, although our home is in His infinite embrace; the Incarnation is the hospitality of God. We will experience His joy to the extent that we are naked before Him, naked before His Church. In service of the Church, we will find ourselves renewing the face of the earth, the earth that groans toward a new creation. We will find ourselves in gratitude, in eucharistia. Only in the body of Christ, in the Church, can we really find a home, a fully open heart, a life that makes sense.

In the Church, skepticism fades away and a new life dominated by love is begun. We will no longer find ourselves in idolatry, but rather we become a signpost, a sacrament, to the One who knows no end. And we will never despair because we are certain of our absolute worth, that we truly have a place here in this world because we are loved. When we experience this great event of love, we will find ourselves with great joy and find ourselves singing the praises of the angels. Singing belongs only to the lover and he who loves will never die. Truly, “this is eternal life, that they should know you, the only true God, and the one whom you sent, Jesus Christ.”

 

 

 

 

Away for a while…

It’s been slow around here lately… Sadly, a lot of things have been going on that have prevented me from writing for this blog and Vox Nova. School and work have kept me busy and Michael and I are engaged to be married in September, so we will be focusing our time preparing mentally and spiritually for that day and for the many to come after the Sacrament. I may start writing again, but perhaps not until I am done with summer classes. All my best to you and thank you as always for stopping by!

In Him,
Katerina

Faithfulness to Christ

To Pilar Timpane, for her birthday

What does it mean to obey, to be faithful to Christ? Our obedience depends on our certainty of God’s faithfulness. This is what the great words “Thy will be done” really mean. They are a reminder of our original dependence and most of all, His faithfulness which is His affection, for us. How do we know that He is faithful? How do we know that He cares about us? Was Christ serious when he said, “What does it profit a man if he gain the whole world, and then lose his heart? Or what can a man give in exchange for himself?” (Matt. 16:26). Does Almighty God really value us in this way? We read in the Scriptures that Christ did not regard himself equal to God but emptied himself and became obedient to God even unto death (Phil. 2). The Incarnation, then, is the confirmation, the verification that God is truly obedient to His love for us, faithful enough to go into the depths of our hearts, of our solitude, and of our loneliness. This is the condition of our obedience: God’s obedience to Himself, His faithfulness to His love.

Everything depends on His faithfulness, in His freedom to keep looking at us with that same merciful look He gazed at Peter, the blind man, Judas, and the widow with. He revealed His absolute freedom, absolute love, when He allowed Himself to be naked, allowed Himself to be a corpse that hung on a tree. He preferred to die than live without us. And when he rose again, this confirms to us that He who loves us tells us, “You cannot die.” He who loves does not want the other to die. He who loves dies when that love is unreciprocated.

How do we experience this great event of love? We can list many examples from the Scriptures but two is enough. The first is when God saved the Israelites from slavery. Experience of God is an experience, an expansion, of our freedom. But when we keep reading this salvific event, we read that the Israelites had become impatient. They kept telling each other, “Let us go back to Egypt!” “God has left us hungry here in the desert. Let us go back to Egypt!” The problem with the Israelites is their forgetfulness. They had forgotten how miserable their lives were in Egypt. They had forgotten the mighty Pharaoh’s oppression and their terrible condition of slavery. They had forgotten their allegiance to an unarticulated man named Moses who had led them out of Egypt. They had forgotten the miracles God had done. How many more miracles did He have to do? How many more miracles does God have to do for us to believe? I am reminded of a person who was going to convert to Christianity and she asked a great philosopher, “But what if this whole thing is wrong?” Dietrich von Hildebrand answered, “But think of the miracles!” Think of the “coincidences,” the people, the experiences you had!

In contrast, think of the annunciation. A young faithful virgin was in love with a man. But God wanted something else. He sent an angel to Mary and told her that she would become the mother of God, of Christ. She allowed God’s love to penetrate her and infuse her with His Spirit. The angel left. This had many implications. It meant, first of all, that she had to explain to Joseph what happened, why she was pregnant. It also meant that she would be looked at with disgust by people. What she had was a promise from an angel that her son would be the Son of God, the Messiah. Her existence depended on that promise, under the context of her experience with God. It was with great joy that she experienced God and she never forgot this event. It was her constant remembering of this event that made her endure the questioning and hateful looks that others gave her, that made her endure Joseph’s heartbreaking face when she told him she was pregnant. And when she had to endure the great suffering of seeing her beloved son suffer on the cross, she must have remembered the time when she held him in her arms when he was born: “she kept all these things in her heart.” She must have remembered the time when she was in distress looking for her twelve year old boy and joyfully found him in the temple. Finding him in the temple was a promise that in every great distress, there will be joy; in every crucifixion, there will be a resurrection. And so, “she kept all of these things in her heart.” That is why she could endure the crucifixion. She remembered; she relived the experiences she had in the past. Unlike the Israelites, Mary kept her experiences of Christ in her heart. She did not forget but grew in her certainty of God’s tenderness to humanity. Obedience to God’s will, which is always His faithfulness to us, can only be done when we relive and remember the experiences we’ve had of Him.

Whenever you experience a great love, you never forget it. Hopefully, all of us can remember our first encounters with Christ, or that experience with Christ that allowed us to convert, change, and made us fall in love with him. We saw a glimpse of our destiny, a moment when our lives made sense. We look back; we remember. What was our judgment, the judgment we made on our experience? This is not just an intellectual exercise, but the way we understand Christ. We understand Christ when we look into our lives and see how we have changed, see how he worked through the people he put in our lives, see the trials we have endured. We do not understand Christ apart from our hearts because it is in our restless hearts that he starts his work in us. It is also the place he ends, for it is in our hearts where his Father and his Spirit will dwell forever.

When we experienced Christ at those points in our lives, what did our hearts say? Did not our hearts burn within us like the two disciples in Emmaus? Did we not experience a reason for living, an experience of exceptionality? To put it in another way, when we experienced that thrilling, quivering, and jolting love of Christ, did we not understand that this is the One whom we have been looking for all along? To experience Christ is to understand our destiny, the meaning of life; the meaning of life is love and love is Christ. For Christ to be the meaning of our life means that all that we do – whether it is school, work, parties, heartbreak, friendships – everything has a meaning, everything has a face. We can look at an awful situation and see that it is part of something greater. We can be with each other with joy and know that this event is a promise that there is more to come. The good news about Christianity is really that our life longs for more and the message is: there is more.

An experience of God’s faithfulness is not a mere sentimentality but an experience which moves the whole being of the person to be open to reality. For example, I went to a retreat once and I had a joyful moment. When everyone was leaving, I was sad because I did not want the retreat to end, an experience like Peter’s at the Transfiguration who told Jesus, “Let us stay here and build tents.” Now, there are two possibilities: either I am a sentimental person or there was an objective presence, a fact, which moved me so much that I wanted to stay with these people. If the former is true, then I cannot really know whether there is a higher power at work because I could become sentimental in any event. If the latter is true, then it means that my life changes. My life changes because I am now in search of this Presence which moved me to be joyful. I am now in a search of a Person, wanting to know who this Person is. “Who are you that moved me to so much joy?” In other words, it provokes prayer. Prayer is an expression of the heart’s desire of wanting to know who it is made for. It is begging Christ that he comes to us, to be aware of his presence in our lives. The time of prayer becomes the truest moment in our lives because it is there that we are explicitly depended on a “You,” that this relationship with this “You” is what makes us certain about our hearts, our desires, our place in this world. Nothing is worthwhile unless it is related to this “You.” Our desires have been altered, wanting to follow where this Presence takes us. We want to follow this Presence because He has put joy in our lives, a promise that there is more to come, that if we allow ourselves to be vulnerable to His freedom, we will attain this infinite joy. Faithfulness to invoking God, faithfulness to prayer, allows us to say with decisiveness and freedom, “Here I am. I am Yours.” An experience of God’s faithfulness, then, increases our affection to Him, move us to become His: “I no longer live, but Christ lives in me” (Gal. 2:20).

Following this Presence is not simply having a personal prayer time but requires following a concrete person or persons. It is in following concrete persons that we experience the carnality of the Logos. When I made the judgment that Christ was in that retreat because I experienced joy, the rational thing to do is to stay with those people. Of course I could not stay with all of them. Many of them lived far away. But there were a few that live close to me. The rational thing for me to do is to stay with them, to follow them. This does not mean that I must be with them all the time. This does not mean that we will never have any problems with each other – good friendship requires struggle. It means that we have been dominated by a Presence, realizing that there must be Someone who puts us together through our weaknesses and struggles and our joys. It is the Presence that these persons carry that I want. This Presence should dominate my life. The way I think, the way I talk to people, the way I wake up in the morning, changes. Even if I am not with them, they are with me because what is important is He who dominates us. This is what obedience really is. Obedience is following Christ in each other, in our friendship. It is following the Church. This is why even though we can see the corruption in the Church, we can see the sins of each other, we can still say the Church is good. We can say that we belong to the Church, we belong to each other. We belong to each other because we are not alone in our sinfulness. This is the essence of the Church: Christ sits at the table with sinners; Christ has truly become sin. We can say that the Church is good because we remember, we experience, that Someone has looked at us the same way. In our sinfulness, in our wickedness, Christ looks at us and still says, “You are good.” We can say to the Church, “You are good” because she too looks at us the same way. Faithfulness to God is always ecclesial.

Because we remember how God has been faithful to us, our freedom has been expanded. If there is ever a time when I am called to be at a place without the people I have grown to love, the people whom I have encountered Christ, I can tell Christ, “thy will be done.” I can leave the people I love because my friendship with them is no longer limited to how much time I spend time with them. I can leave them because I experienced joy with them, a promise that whenever I follow this Presence that moves us together, I will have the joy that I deeply need and desire.
Obedience to Christ, then, is not attempting to do anything in our own wishes, even if those wishes are good. I can say, “I will do charitable works, Lord. I will pray for an hour every day. I will be more faithful in my studies.” Notice how it is always “I will”, “I will”. It is focus on the “I.” Rather, there is one thing necessary: we are loved, the “You”. Obedience is not attempting to please the Lord by our own works. Obedience is not a mechanical following, but a simplicity of the heart. And the simpler the heart is, the more it gives itself away. The simplicity of the heart is giving itself to the people whom it has been affected by. To be simple means to be sensitive to Christ’s tenderness. It is allowing oneself to submit to the people he has given to us, those who are living their vocation and certain of Christ’s love for them and has their hearts geared towards His absolute freedom.

Finally, the story of Jesus, Mary, and Martha is a definitive guide for obedience (Luke 10:38-42). Martha heard that Christ was coming. Christ was a friend of hers and she knew that there was something exceptional in this man. Not only was he becoming a famous teacher, but he looked at her with an attentiveness that she had never experienced. Martha had never seen such a man before. She had never seen a man so serene, so generous, so attentive to one’s needs, so firm, and so loving. He had helped her in a way that no one had ever helped her before; she realized herself through him. So she heard that he was coming again. As a sign of gratitude and hospitality, she cleaned her house and wanted to have a presentable meal. Mary, on the other hand, was not the best helper. She was busy doing other work and she might have been lazy. She may have even ruined a certain kind of food Martha was making. We don’t know. But we know that Martha was trying to impress Christ and there is nothing wrong in trying to impress him. Then, unexpectedly, she heard that Christ was coming earlier than what was planned. This is a great and sweet blessing of God: He comes unexpectedly and sooner than we think. He comes and the meal is not even cooked and not even prepared. The house is not in the best shape. Mary, who was probably not as skilled as Martha in cooking and other things, saw Christ and entertained him. Martha got mad at Mary and told her to help her. Christ told Martha that she was too worried about too many things. “Only one thing is necessary” and Mary had chosen the best part. This is not to say that Martha was wrong. It pleased the Lord that she was doing all of those things. But Christ desired one thing: Martha herself.

At the end of it all, the Lord wants you. That is it. Obedience requires an awareness of what is essential: “You.” Obedience is saying with affection, “I am You who make me.”

“Descended into Hell” — Exploring God’s silence

This article of the Apostle’s Creed is certainly by far the most controversial for many Christians, but why? At first, it is hard to believe that the Son of God who is sinless would descend into hell, which we understand it to be a place where there is only pain and suffering.

As this can be a topic of deep theological discussions, I only attempt here to scratch the surface based on Joseph Ratzinger’s Introduction to Christianity and the Catechism of the Catholic Church.

The “Death of God”
In reality, even though as Christians we believe in the mystery of the resurrection, we may not feel as comfortable in accepting the fact that for the resurrection to be possible, Jesus had to experience death in the same way that all men do. The mystery of our faith is based in the reality that Jesus Christ in fact died; however, this was not an ordinary death. Jesus Christ as the Redeemer, descended into hell in a special way in order to proclaim “the Good News to the spirits imprisoned there.”[1]

Sheol, Hell, and Death
Scholars claim that the word “hell” in this article of the Creed may be a false translation of the word sheol, which meant in the Old Testament a state after death characterized by nothingness. Pope Benedict XVI, in his book Introduction to Christianity, challenges this interpretation of “hell”, which only implies that Jesus died, and inquires further into the meaning of hell and death.

It is in our human nature to be afraid of loneliness. According to the Pope, if we face certain situations, such as being alone in the presence of a corpse, for instance, we will become afraid of the body even though we are aware that we will not get hurt by it. However, if someone else would be in the room with us, our fears would go away, because we would no longer be alone faced with death.

Because we enter into death by ourselves with no one accompanying us, death is also considered as utter loneliness under the Old Testament definition of sheol. This is why the Pope defines death as “absolute loneliness,” but goes further into saying that hell is “death into which love cannot longer reach.” [2]

Christ Conquers Death
Jesus also experienced this loneliness leading up to His death when He cried for the Father: “My God why have you forsaken me?”[3] Subsequently, because prior to the Incarnation, death or the state after death (sheol) was considered as complete loneliness, it is important that Christ’s death would differ from this earlier idea. He descended into hell, our final loneliness, and opened its gates to reach us with His love. When Christ died, death and hell no longer meant the same thing, because from that point on love resided in death.

“Since this love-death of our Lord, death has taken on a quite different meaning; it can become for us an expression of our purest and most living love, assuming that we take it as a conferred opportunity to give ourselves unreservedly into the hands of God” [4]

Scripture and other non Biblical References for Personal Study

Mt 27:52; Mt 12:40; Acts 2:27, 31;Rom 10:7; Eph 4:9; 1 Pet 3:19ff, 4:6
Catechism of the Catholic Church, 632-637
Joseph Ratzinger, Introduction to Christianity
Johann Auer and Joseph Ratzinger, Eschatology: Death and Eternal Life
Hans Urs Von Balthasar, Credo

[1] Catechism of the Catholic Church, 678.
[2] Joseph Ratzinger, Introduction to Christianity (San Francisco, CA: Ignatius Press, 1990), 227
[3] Mk 15:34
[4] Hans Urs Von Balthasar, Credo (San Francisco, CA: Ignatius Press, 2005), 54.

Reflections on John 4

To Alexi-Noelle

Christ did not come to this world with a type of spirituality but a penetrating gaze that infuses into the human heart a love that lasts forever. In the eyes of Christ, we encounter God’s human sympathy that shatters the hardness of the heart and our indifference towards our destiny. The more we look into his eyes the more we become certain of our vocation, our destiny, and who this man is, this man who looks at us in such a way that it provokes us to have compassion for our human fragility.

Two thousand years ago, in what seems to be an ordinary event, a woman’s life was changed by a conquering gaze that awakened her freedom. She was an attractive Samaritan, a woman who had many husbands. By “happy chance,” she went to Jacob’s well while a Jewish man was resting there from his tireless work of attempting to save the world. She knew he was sitting there but did not pay attention to him. She was paying attention to her own affairs, to her own problems that she created. The Nazarene, like other men, was probably attracted to this woman. He thirsted for her heart, that is, a desire to give his spirit to her. He said, “Give me a drink.” She was surprised and forgot about what she was thinking about. She had the common conception of religion we have today, a preconception that religion suffocates you with its rules and doctrines. “How can you, a Jew, ask me, a Samaritan woman, for a drink?” Some narrow-minded Jews refused to talk to people who did not share their views of God and the world. This woman probably encountered those kinds of people, people whose arrogance made them walk past people whose quality of life was not up to their standards (the Good Samaritan story). But this Jew was different. The way he looked at her was different and he proposed to her something that she probably suppressed in her heart, a proposal that attracted her because here was someone who took her heart seriously.

What is interesting about this short conversation is that the woman gained certainty of who she was talking to when she gained certainty of herself. “He told me everything I have done.” What seems to be an ordinary event with a typical Jew was an encounter with a Presence that saved her from her inhumanity. The more a person is certain of her own heart, the more she becomes aware of the infinite closeness of God. This is the certainty Christ gives us. The woman lacked understanding (vs. 22) and Christ gave her the understanding that her five husbands never gave her, an understanding about her destiny, about an everlasting life that is worth living, not an immortal life without love. This type of person, a person who is aware of her needs, is the type that the Father wants (vs. 23).

“He told me everything I have done.” Christ knew what she had done and yet, he never looked at her with wrathful eyes. He recognized her longing for the everlasting, for an infinite embrace from her Father. God looks at the depth of the human person and never divorces Himself from her. This look, this gaze, provoked the Samaritan woman to be naked in front of her Creator and her neighbor: “The woman…went into the town and said to the people, ‘Come see a man who told me everything I have done.’” She was not afraid to be vulnerable anymore, even to the people she knows. What she had done was embarrassing. It made people look down upon her. And yet she knew that Someone looks at her, even with her fragility and faults, with an awareness of her absolute value. Worship begins with an awareness of an Other who has a sense of our worth. In the end of it all, only this profound look is what matters. What matters is what is behind this look. To discover this look, to discover what is behind this look, is the Christian life.

Lent is not so much of a time of discipline as much as it is being free because we recognize a look that keeps our lives worth living. How do we recognize the gaze of Christ? Yes, we recognize him first and foremost in the Eucharist for it is there that we become deaf to our rationalizations and conceptions of God, and our hearts are attuned to a “luminous darkness” that melts our souls. We recognize Christ in prayer. But where else? How else do we recognize him? It is very easy to say that we recognize Christ in the sacraments. It is difficult to recognize him elsewhere. How do we know when we encounter Christ? And where do we encounter him? Where is the evidence of this resurrected Presence that Christians talk about? In friends. Even when we are not spending time with them, we are with them. It is they who make us realize the importance of walking the straight and narrow road, that is, living a simple life with the certainty of one thing necessary: we are loved. Their joys become ours. And our communion with each other is built on truth, on a certainty that our desires are not an illusion. This is why true friendship never ends. Our good will and affection for each other are founded on a steadfast look that hell itself cannot prevail against, a love so tremendous that it brings us together to walk in the same direction. Even when there are faults committed against each other, there is a look that looks beyond it, an intense and profound sympathy for each other’s fragility. In other words, the look is not limited to what a person has done, for that is looking at a person in a fragmented way, but with affection for the other person’s life as a whole, a love for the person’s destiny. Because there is this love, the person changes and looks forward to that day when he is no longer tied to his childish ways but naked with his arms stretched in front of his God and the world (Jn. 21:18). Christ told his friend, “Feed my sheep. Tend my lambs. Feed my sheep.” In other words, love the Church even with her weaknesses. Love the people God has put in your lives.

New Contributor

Apolonio Latar who had been a previous reader of my former blog Evangelical Catholicism and a current reader and frequent commenter of this blog will be joining me in writing for this blog.  Apolonio’s thoughtful reflections and comments add an invaluable insight to the main theme I write about here: love.  Not a love of dreams, as Dostoevsky would say, but a real love that demands sacrifice and the ultimate gift of self.  This is not to say, nonetheless, that all the joy is taken out of this love.  All the contrary.  It is in addressing this point that Apolonio’s reflections become important in our ongoing discussion.  Join me in welcoming Apolonio!
Please check out Apolonio’s blog for more of his insights.

Falling in Love

(In honor of St. Valentine’s day and the season of Lent, I thought I would share a quote that my professor of Systematic theology gave us last year at the end of the semester. )

Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is,

than falling in Love in a quite absolute way.

What you are in love with,

What seizes your imagination,

Will affect everything.

It will decide what will get you out of bed in the morning,

What you will do with your evenings,

How you will spend your weekends,

What you read, what you know,

What breaks your heart,

And what amazes you in joy and gratitude.

Fall in love, stay in love,

and it will decide everything.

Attributed to Pedro Arrupe, S.J.

Fast and Abstinence in Perspective

My friend Soutenus from Catholic Notebook has a wonderful post on where she puts fasting and abstinence in perspective. The post looks at fasting during the Lenten season keeping in mind how our brothers and sisters in Haiti, specifically, suffer from hunger.  Haiti is the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. I think that Soutenus has a good Lent tip that I will personally consider:

During Lent you might want to place the money save by fasting and abstinence aside for people in poverty. Go to the St. Boniface Haiti Foundation to learn about their nutrition programs.

A Case Against Mardi Gras

Having lived over eight years in South Louisiana I am somewhat familiar with the hype around Mardi Gras in Catholic and non-Catholic circles. I have never been part of any of the floats or have gone to the balls, but I have gone to the parades to catch some beads and plastic cups or Frisbees and they were “okay.” We used to go to the “family-oriented” parades, but they turned out to be everything but fit for the family. My coworkers and I limited ourselves to eating the King Cake in the office and hoping we didn’t get “Baby Jesus” so we wouldn’t have to buy the cake next time. That has been the extent of my participation in the Mardi Gras festivities.

I would say that most of my Catholic friends from Louisiana, without exception, participate actively in the Mardi Gras festivities since January 6^th (technically, Mardis Gras in French refers to Fat Tuesday only, but the term is also applied to the days and festivities that precede this day). In all honesty, I don’t understand it. I don’t understand the concept of participating in excesses and indulgences before the fasting and penance that characterizes the sacred season of Lent. I don’t understand it and I don’t agree with it. I’m going to go as far to quote the words of my dear boyfriend regarding Mardi Gras: “Mardi Gras is a mockery of the Catholic faith.” I agree. It is a mockery of the Lenten season and of its purpose and sacredness.

My friends make it sound as if Mardi Gras is intrinsically Catholic and although there may be some truth to the fact that the feast is related to Catholicism by association, the festivities are everything but Christian in nature. In fact, history places the origin of carnival festivities back to pagan spring fertility rites during pre-Christian times.

Lent is supposed to be a time to grow in virtue through penance, sacrifice, and mortification. The purpose of the Lenten season is to prepare our bodies and souls to grow closer to God so we can accompany Him faithfully during his Passion, death, and then His glorious resurrection. Although Lent in itself is a time for preparation for the Triduum, preparation is also required prior to entering the Lenten season, because we need to get our minds and bodies in the mode of receiving God (just as in Advent).

So, what is the purpose of Mardi Gras? What is the goal of excessive eating, drinking, and partying right before Ash Wednesday? Is it an attempt to forget about God right before “reality” hits during Lent? How do the carnival festivities help us in growing closer to God in preparation for Lent? How does Mardi Gras aid our spiritual and physical preparation to receive God?

Growing in virtue this Lenten Season

“What are you giving up for Lent?” we are often asked during this time of year. This question usually refers to which specific food or drink we are going to stop eating or drinking during this season. Some go further and want to give up TV shows or the Internet. Although these practices of disciplining the will may sound trivial (because many people go back to their same old practices after Lent), if they are coupled with a true sense of solidarity and strong spiritual practices, they can lead us into growing in virtue during this season. It is through small acts that we can grow in humility; nevertheless, they cannot be isolated from our final goal—to reach unity with Christ.

Fasting, Abstinence, and Solidarity

Fasting is often times seen as pointless and unnecessary in an individual-centered society like the one in which we live in today. On the other hand, there is another extreme in fasting. There is a temptation to become spiritual athletes for Christ and practice intense fasting losing focus of our ultimate end: to grow closer to Christ. But it is in solidarity that our fasting can be fruitful in our spiritual life: when we realize that we are not alone, that we are united with members of the Mystical Body of Christ in the name of His love.

In other words, if you decide to stop drinking sodas or eating chocolate during this season, because they are not good for you or they make you fat, your attempts may not be all that fruitful spiritually (perhaps physically!), because they do not extend vertically or horizontally, religiously speaking. A different approach may be to actually practice fasting and abstinence as outlined by the Church and if you desire you can abstain also from certain foods of your choice, but all of this has to be done in a context of solidarity with others and in “offering it up” to Christ. Solidarity means that you recognize others’ needs and that they are always in front of you. For instance, when you fast it is a way of recognizing the hunger that many suffer around the world and the injustices that make this happen. Or when you don’t drink that soda that you usually love is a way of knowing we can leave our desires aside and understand that many people around us do not have the luxury to fulfill their desires even if they are really small and harmless as a can of soda can be.

Spiritual Practices

Lent can become almost like that time of New Year’s when we start making resolutions and we later break them after the season ends. Although it does not have to necessarily be that way. Lent can be a time for training and disciplining our will to start certain spiritual practices that if successful can extend well beyond the Lenten season and even for life. Personally, it was during one Lent two years ago when I decided to attend daily Mass and start praying the Liturgy of the Hours. I still practice both two years later, although with daily Mass schedules nowadays, it becomes difficult to attend Mass every day working a full-time job and going back to school at the same time. Nevertheless, perhaps you may want to try to go to daily Mass and visit the Blessed Sacrament or start praying the Liturgy of the Hours or read a chapter of Scripture every day or start a new devotion—or be more perseverant with the ones you already practice.

So let us go forth and make this Lenten season count. Let us allow the grace of the Lord transform us so we can cultivate solidarity in humility in our hearts as we attempt to grow closer to Christ during these 40 days and receive Him joyfully on Easter Sunday.

See:

• Creating our own desert with the Desert Fathers
• Sacrifices and Solidarity

Transforming the world by being a people “in love”

We love because he first loved us.” (1 Jn 4:16-19)

One of the things that I struggle with the most is evangelization. I have friends and family members who either do not believe in God or are baptized Catholics who have left the Church. I do not want to force my beliefs on them, but on the other hand I am by no means a pluralist who thinks that it is okay for everybody to believe in whatever it is they believe is true and leave it at that. Otherwise, I would not believe that the truth is one and that it can only be found in the God of Jesus Christ and that has been transmitted to us through His Church.

I have learned from friends who are very successful in speaking to inactive Catholics or nonbelievers that whenever we are fortunate enough to be presented with an opportunity to discuss matters of faith, first of all we must listen very carefully to the other person. We need to understand what their concerns are, which are always valid and authentic. The issues they may have with organized religion or Catholicism, for that matter, do not occur in a vacuum and may very well be justified. Unfortunately, we are not always presented with this scenario: an adequate setting or enough time to have a relaxed and truthful chat about religion or Catholicism. Most of the time we are either working, or going to school, or attending social events or going about our daily chores. So how can we evangelize during this time?

I personally believe that it all comes down to the words that have been traditionally attributed to St. Francis of Assisi: “Preach the Gospel at all times. Use words if necessary.” We all know that saying, but it sounds like it is easier said than done. I have long reflected about this and I have come up with an idea that is less than innovative and that may also sound like it is easier said than done! But let’s give it a try.

Love is the universal language.  Regardless of age, gender, religion, race, ethnicity, or political affiliation, human beings can all speak the language of love.  Love unites us.  Love is our common bond.  Therefore, if we want to “evangelize” we start and end with love.

When we are in love with someone, people notice it and they talk about it with us or with others. Michael and I know a Catholic couple that has been married for years. One of their children is disabled, but yet they are so filled with love and joy for their child as well as the rest of their children, friends, and coworkers. They are always smiling and making others smile as well. They are so welcoming and are always willing to help and give to the poor and needy. When we see a couple like this who share their reverence and love for the other constantly, we notice it right away and we feel like we can also share and participate in their joy—in the happiness of their union. Their union no longer is self-contained, but in fact welcomes anyone who wishes to participate in it. This is how our love for God should be: so abundant that it overflows and that allows others to share in it—a welcoming love.

When we see a compassionate person who perseveres in their ministry to the broken and the needy we are inspired by this love and wonder what keeps this person going. When we witness a son or daughter constantly caring and serving his or her elderly parents we are elevated to this higher love that moves them to give of themselves in such a way. These are people who are in love with someone and they act accordingly. They walk the talk. Same goes with our love for God. The true Christian is in love with someone—with God himself and he or she has to live out that love in order for it to be credible and for it to be a true witness.

If I constantly talk about the love I have for my boyfriend, but I am flirting with other men when he is not around or I am rude to him in front of our friends and family, will others know that I am a person in love? People will start talking and will let him know that I am perhaps not the right person for him. Same goes with friends or family members and God. If I constantly talk about how pious I am or how often I pray, but I am impatient and rude to others who I encounter every day of my life, will others know that I am in love? If I refuse to serve others and prefer to always be first, will people be inspired by my love? Am I letting my love for God shine through my actions? Can others fall in love with God through my actions?

Blessed Mother Teresa was indeed in love and she elevated our spirits to that same love that united her to Jesus Christ. In her own words, she speaks of how “demanding” that love can be just as our love for spouses, significant others, family members and friends can be:

Because I talk so much of giving with a smile, once a professor from the United States asked me: “Are you married?” And I said: “Yes, and I find it sometimes very difficult to smile at my spouse, Jesus, because He can be very demanding - sometimes.” This is really something true. And this is where love comes in - when it is demanding, and yet we can give it with joy.”

One may ask at this point, but what kind of love are we talking about here? It is definitely not romantic love that I am referring to. It is not temporal love either. It is self-emptying love. It is a radical love that seeks nothing but to serve for the glory of God. It is perseverant love. It is the kind of love that moves us out of ourselves and that bears it all for God’s sake. It is a supernatural love that acknowledges that there is life to come and that knows that this world is not an end in itself, but only a phase in our journey. It is a love that knows that we are simply nomads walking towards our final and eternal destiny to share in the joy of the Divine fellowship. It is the kind of love (caritas) that St. Paul talks about in his first letter to the Corinthians:

Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, (love) is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails. (13:4-8)

Christian love is radical… as radical as God becoming man… as radical as God dwelling among us… as radical as the crucified God… as radical as God being raised from the dead. We cease to be Christians when we cease to live and love radically until the end. Radical love is credible and transforming. Living out daily our radical love for God is the greatest witness we can give of our belief in the truth.

What is the true meaning of the Trinity in our daily lives?

(Busy, busy, busy… Sorry for not updating the blog lately, but since the beginning of the year I have been working late hours and will be going on business travel the next couple of weeks. On top of that I just started another semester at school, so I have not had much of spare time.)

Regardless of how busy I may be, I still miss writing for the blog and, most importantly, reading your thoughts. I just started a Trinity and Incarnation class and we are, obviously, learning about the Trinity, but because my degree focuses on the pastoral aspects of theology, we are going to be asking ourselves throughout the semester how to talk about the Trinity to parishioners and fellow Christians in simple terms. Our belief in the Triune God is one of the pillars of our faith, but many of us do not know how to explain it or even how to make it meaningful in our own walk of faith. From personal experience, I know that every year when Trinity Sunday comes along, I expect a fruitful homily that would hopefully enlighten further my understanding of this sacred mystery. It turns out that the homilies have helped a lot. Reading books on the side by the saints and theologians has helped me tremendously. I have gotten to the point that I meditate on the Trinity daily when before I just didn’t know where to start thinking about the Trinity! Three in one, One in Three? What? Why would God make one of the fundamental dogmas of the Christian faith such a difficult one? Well, it doesn’t have to be.  It is a mystery after all! :)

Many valid questions and many answers too, but for now, I would like to know from you the following:

• How do you incorporate the mystery of the Holy Trinity into your daily living (if at all)? Your spirituality?
• If you have children, how do you explain it to them? Have you even tried?
• What difficulties do you experience with this dogma?
• Do you think it is not emphasized or explained enough at the pulpit?
• What do you think would happen if suddenly we stop talking in Trinitarian terms at Mass or at the parishes or at home?

I have written something on the Trinity before on this blog, where I explain how I’ve dealt with this dogma, in case you’re interested. When I think about the Trinity, I think about the relationship between the Three Persons and the infinite love that reigns among them. I stopped trying to figure out the “three in one and one in three” part, because that didn’t get me anywhere ;)

The Power of an Adjective: “Illegal” Immigrants

Last week was National Migration Week and Michael and I decided to go to the Houston Catholic Worker, also called Casa Juan Diego to drop off some donations for any needs they have at this house of hospitality. At Casa Juan Diego they feed, care, and house the poor, refugees and migrants. Houston, the city where we live, is filled with many “illegal” immigrants. Who are they? The construction guys who sleep overnight at the unfinished house in front of my parents’ home and work 16-hour days. The cousin of one of our good friends who lives in the dark–without interacting much with others–for fear of being turned in. The woman who gets injured at a factory, but cannot go to a hospital to be taken care of for fear of being deported and for lack of health insurance. These people have faces. They have lives. They have families. And even though many forget: they have dignity.

Having argued for quite some time against what has become a “witch hunt” for “illegal” immigrants in this country with family, friends, and in the Catholic blogosphere, I can personally attest as to how the debate always boils down to this: illegal immigrants are breaking the law when they enter the country illegally; therefore, they should not be given any type of ‘pardon’ or ‘amnesty’ or special treatment for that matter. It is as if entering the country “illegally” automatically transforms these people into criminals. No distinction is even given to what type of law these individuals are breaking—a civil law. When I run a red light or drive over the speed limit and I am given a ticket, I do not automatically turn into an “illegal” driver or “illegal” citizen. The problem and controversy around the immigration debate has to do exactly with the adjective itself: “illegal” immigrants. In other countries, “undocumented” or “out-of-status” migrants are more proper qualifiers for individuals who are “in transition” within the immigration process.

Sadly, in the debate there is no question as to whether our current immigration laws are fair or whether the treatment of processed “illegal” immigrants is just or not. No question about why “illegal” immigrants do not receive medical treatment while in prison before being deported to their native countries. No question about why “illegal” immigrants die in their prisons before ever reaching their final destination. Hence, we see how the adjective “illegal” applied to the migrant subliminally gives a law primacy over a person within the immigration debate.

Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God

Pray for us O Holy Mother of God

That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

Amen.

“Why am I Catholic?” DVD for sale

The “Why am I Catholic?” DVD was played in EWTN’s Life on the Rock recently and I had linked to their website in order for you to purchase their DVDs directly and get the video. However, EWTN has stopped the sale of their Life on the Rock DVDs, so I have burned my own copies and have made them available in my online shop due to many requests.

I have included two other bonus videos along with the “Why am I Catholic?” video. I would be happy to translate the video in any language you desire if you provide me with the complete translation.

Meditation for Christmas Season

“According to the Preface for Christmas the ultimate goal of the Incarnation is man’s ‘divinization’: ‘You have brought about a wondrous exchange; your divine Word became a mortal man, and in Christ we mortal men receive your divine life.’[...]

The Christian ideal of man’s divinization does not indicate a path of self-divinization: it is in fact man’s healing from the ‘God-complex’, from the compulsion of wanting to be like God; it is man’s healing from a view of God which projects the reverse image of his own powerlessness on to a despotic, omnipotent God.

The Christmas theme of the ‘wondrous exchange’ gives the direction in which we should look for the Christian idea of how man can ‘become God’. Paul shows the way: ‘You know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich’ (2 Cor 8:9). Thus the Christian path of divinization can only be a path which makes man like God, like him in his ’self-emptying’ (Phil 2:7) which makes us rich. The goal of God’s Incarnation is man’s divinization. And as for the path to this goal, it can be none other than the path taken by the Son of God in becoming man for us.

Gregory of Nyssa once formulated the Pauline theme in this way: ‘God takes on the poverty of my flesh so that I may receive the riches of his godhead’ (PG 35, 325).”

Christoph von Schönborn, The Mystery of the Incarnation, trans. Graham Garrison (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1992), 51-52.

“Opportunities” for Sanctification

Michael and I finally watched “Evan Almighty” a few weeks ago after many of our friends recommended it and I actually thought it was good for families to watch, because of the many good messages it contained.

One of my favorite parts of the movie was when “God” spoke to Evan’s wife about how God may give us what we are asking for, but not necessarily in the way or form in which we specifically asked Him. In other words, when we ask for patience, for instance, God does not throw us a hundred pounds of patience from heaven so then we can magically become patient. Rather, God gives us that patience by providing us with opportunities to learn and then practice and grow in that patience.

I thought the message in this scene was very basic and simple—so “new”, but yet so old. Our God does not operate in the abstract (like the hundred pounds of patience). The simple fact that God became man should be a proof of that. Instead, He entered into our human realities by having become one of us and taught us what it means to live the life we have been given by God to the fullest: to be compassionate, to love, serve, interact with others, listen, teach, understand… It is not through isolation that we become better people—better Christians. In other words, I do not become a more patient person by only sitting and praying in my room. Instead, I become more patient when I am presented with certain situations with others that allow me to learn and practice the patience that I have asked God for. This is not to say that the prayer component is not important. On the contrary, prayer is absolutely essential. Prayer is our constant fuel—the food from which we nurture and live. It is through prayer—in the constant nurturing of our relationship with God—that we learn from Him, in this most intimate way, how it is that we ought to live our lives to give glory to Him. However, we can’t take “the others” out of the picture—of that process of “becoming.” We are not Gnostics, so we don’t understand the “material” world as trapping us from becoming like Christ. The world and, hence, the others do not stand as a barrier in our spiritual life. Instead, they aid us in understanding God and His will.

I have been going through very tough times with my family recently and I have asked God to give me patience and the strength to go through them. But the difficult situations have not gone away. It doesn’t seem like they will any time soon anyway. I have not become stronger or more patient from one day to another. Sometimes it’s easy. Sometimes it’s really hard. But I have grown in my understanding of the purpose of these difficult times. Like St. Josemaría Escrivá said:

“Don’t say, ‘That person bothers me.’ Think: ‘That person sanctifies me.’”

St. Thomas Aquinas T-shirt

This is a great gift for philosophy and theology geeks! :)

Here is a simple t-shirt I designed to honor the thought of this Doctor of the Church. This t-shirt is part of a series of simple shirts depicting medieval and modern philosophers and theologians that Michael and I designed to promote the relevance of their thought today.

Show everyone that you are an Aquinas fan! :-P Share your enthusiasm for the work of the great late medieval theologian and philosopher! And whenever you are tired of the dryness of the Summa Theologiae wear your t-shirt again and remind yourself that Aquinas is awesome! :)

If you’re interested, you can get it here and to also get a closer view.

(More Catholic t-shirts and other stuff coming soon to my Etsy shop)

Feast Day of Saint John of the Cross

One of my favorite saints!

To deprive oneself of the gratification of the appetites in all things is like living in darkness and in a void. … Hence, we call this nakedness a night for the soul. For we are not discussing the mere lack of things; this lack will not divest the soul., if it [still] craves for all these objects. We are dealing with the denudation of the soul’s appetites and gratifications; this is what leaves it free and empty of all things, even though it possesses them. Since the things of the world cannot enter the soul, they are not in themselves an encumbrance or harm to it; rather, it is the will and appetite dwelling within it that causes the damage.”

The Ascent of Mount Carmel

Grace Before Meals–Doxology needed?

We always say grace before meals no matter where we are, but Michael and I have been wondering if there should be a doxology to the traditional prayer that will include all those who do not have the “grace” that we have been given to enjoy a meal. I know that one of our close friends adds a prayer at the end , but I forgot her exact words. Michael and I want to add a doxology that would include all those who are hungry, but I can’t come up with words as of yet. I probably haven’t given it enough thought. Do you say grace before meals? And if you do, do you just pray the traditional words or do you add some words at the end of the prayer?

My Caritas Store

Remember what I told you about buying handmade gifts on Etsy.com for Christmas? Well, as I was browsing around for gifts, I decided to open my own store, because I already make a lot of things on my spare time with crochet, beads, paper, web design and more.  I have called it Caritas.  I also got the idea from the increasing demand of the “Why am I Catholic?” DVD, since EWTN is not selling them anymore.  I may end up selling the videos on Etsy, but I still have to solve some technical difficulties with burning DVDs, so I don’t want to promise anything as of right now.

Right now, I’m only selling things that I either had made already or that have had time to make while in school.  I’m already designing Catholic t-shirts that I will put up whenever I finish this semester! I’m also working on some “rope” rosaries and Bible verse magnets/push pins.

Michael and I are also designing t-shirts with the most popular ancient/medieval/modern/post-modern philosophers and theologians that would look great on those of you philosophy/theology geeks :) The Thomas Aquinas one is looking pretty neat ;)

I don’t want to come across like the blogger who needs donations to keep writing, because I think that is absolutely silly.  I’m just inviting you to check out what I have, but also what a lot of artists sell on Etsy that are much better than me!

Community and Reception of Divine Revelation

(This is a paper I wrote for my Fundamental Theology class. A bit unrelated with the theme of this blog, but yet interesting in the question of community and the individual. I also know that some of you are working on Theology degrees as well, so here it is)

Christians believe that God, in his infinite wisdom and love, became man and entered the history of humanity (Jn 1:14). It is indeed the Incarnation what makes Christianity so distinct from other major religions, because it follows that the Christian who is searching for God encounters Him in person—in Jesus Christ. Therefore, the encounter between the individual and God in Christianity is a personal encounter, because the Christian is faced with someone concrete and familiar: a God who shares his or her same human nature. If the Incarnation has given the meeting between humans and God a personal character, the question arises nonetheless about how this “personal” encounter takes place. Does it happen strictly between God and the individual with no need for intercessors or intermediaries? Or does it take place only in the presence of a community of believers? Or more concretely, how are the individual and the community of believers related to each other with regard to the reception of divine revelation? My present effort in this paper will focus on the latter question as I attempt to sketch an answer to it starting with Kierkegaard’s perspective on the individual and balancing it with communio ecclesiology and its emphasis on the community. It is important to note beforehand that by “divine revelation,” I am focusing specifically on “universal” revelation or the deposit of faith (fidei depositum) transmitted by the Church and contained in Sacred Scriptures rather than “private” revelation.

Prayer Request

This life that I live
is no life at all,
and so I die continually
until I live with you;
Hear me, my God
I do not desire this life,
I am dying because I do not die. –St. John of the Cross

If you could please include in your prayer intentions one of our relatives who passed away today so that he may enjoy eternal happiness in the company of all the angels and saints.

It is in times like these when the words of St. Benedict resound even more in my mind: “Have death at all times before your eyes.” I told these words to my family this past weekend, because we were talking about living life to the fullest and the fear of death–before any of this happened–and they all said to me “How can you say that? No! That is bad luck!” That’s a normal reaction… how many of us can repeat the words of St. John of the Cross? They are very radical.  We are nomads on this earth. We are on a journey and its final destination is not here, but the heavens.

Then he said, ‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’ He replied to him, ‘Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.’” (Lk 23:42-43)

Sacrifices, Solidarity and Moderation on Thanksgiving Day

I heard this morning on the TODAY Show that an average Thanksgiving meal contains 5,000 calories and I wondered if we have missed the point of the holiday when we just look forward to stuffing ourselves to the point that we can’t walk.

Thanksgiving Day is a holiday that my family and I adopted a couple of years before we moved to the U.S.. Now we celebrate it every year with the turkey and everything else. It is a day that we look forward to, because we spend it with loved ones and enjoy a good meal. We take a break from everything to be together and that is a very good thing for all families. Every Thanksgiving day or Christmas eve dinner, for that matter, we thank God for allowing us to enjoy the meal and each other and pray for others who are just not as lucky. That is all good and nice, but is it just a simple “petition” for those who cannot enjoy the holiday enough? Could we perhaps offer up our craving for pumpkin pie and refrain from eating it as a sign of solidarity with others? Or have a simpler meal on this day? Or even more radical, could we instead go to the local shelter and help out cooking a meal for those whom we are actually praying for? This is all easier said than done, but holiness is achieved through practice and perseverance not through “grace alone.” I am often afraid that Thanksgiving Day can become a day to thank God for “making ME so special” and we miss the bigger picture.

Some may say that I am perhaps too rigid or ruining a nice holiday, but I do believe in the radical character that Catholicism gives to the Christian witness. The Catholic is a person that is in love–not with himself or herself, but with God and, hence, with the whole world. Since this love is rooted in the Cross–the Eucharist–it is a self-emptying love. A love that tirelessly seeks the other and is not satisfied until giving his entire self. Therefore, the Catholic goes beyond the norms and the paradigms and it is in this way that he or she becomes truly radical and, hence, a saint. The saints that we read about were truly radical: their secret lied in seeing beyond what the world seemed to offer and saw God in everything they did or said. They were in love and lived according to that love. Can we then go beyond the “usual” meaning of this Thanksgiving holiday?

The question becomes for us this Thanksgiving Day: Am I taking advantage of this holiday to see the true Christian meaning of what it is to be thankful? Thankfulness to God for his gifts do not exist in a vacuum, but rather many challenges are attached to it. God pours his gifts gratuitously on us, but for love of Him and His creation, we turn towards others and are not fulfilled until we make his gifts and love known to all.

What do you and your family do during this Thanksgiving holiday to make it simpler and to join in solidarity with others?

Bangladesh Cyclone

I was traveling whenever this tragedy happened so I was not able to post anything until now.  I’m sure you have heard of the magnitude of this cyclone: the terrible death toll and number of people affected.  I have to admit that I do not know much about the details of this tragedy and why the death toll is so high, but it should be quite alarming when a cyclone affects this many people with the technology we have today.  Another reminder of the inequality of wealth in the world.  Let us remind the families affected by this tragedy in our prayers this upcoming Thanksgiving day.