How many of us cringe at the thought of Abraham offering up his only son to the Holy One? And yet, how many of us gladly sacrifice our brothers and sisters in service of far pettier deities? Lust. Greed. Fear. We would much rather listen to them than any angel of mercy telling us to stay our hands. So let us spend the remainder of these forty days in mourning for those siblings whose souls and bodies we have maimed and destroyed. Let us pick someone each day and weep for them. The friend whom we threw under the bus. The enemy whom we judged as deserving of our wrath. The stranger whom we wrote off as collateral damage. And through our tears we might hear a voice proclaim, "These are my precious children. Love them." And then, perhaps, we will finally be ready to listen to our Brother, and to join him in walking beside our Parent in the land of all that is.
Sunday, March 1, 2015
Sunday, February 22, 2015
First Sunday of Lent
Yes, "this is the time of fulfillment." And yes, "the kingdom of God is at hand." There has not been a single day, since before the dawn of creation, that our Parent has failed to deliver on their promise to shower us with love and truth. And the greatest of all their gifts is our brothers and sisters, who form a realm more dazzling than all the stars in the sky. But so many of us find this news too good to be true. We feel surrounded by hate and lies, and constantly mistake siblings for enemies or strangers. Which is why we need forty days in the desert; forty days to be stripped of anger and fear; forty days for the scales to fall from our hearts and souls; forty days to see life through divine eyes. And at the end of these days, when we finally emerge from the wilderness, perhaps then, we will believe.
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
Ash Wednesday
"Be merciful, O Lord, for we have sinned." Yes, we have sinned. I have sinned. For these forty days, let us take a reprieve from marching and shouting and agitating about our neighbors' sins, no matter how horrendous they may be. And let us instead expend our outrage on our own sins, no matter how minuscule they seem. Let us dive deep into remorse and be overly generous with our amends. And then perhaps at the end of these forty days, we might actually feel that divine mercy that each of us so desperately craves. Yes, let us be merciful with one another, for we all have sinned.
Sunday, February 15, 2015
Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
We are unclean, every last one of us. Not because of anything we have done, but simply by virtue of who we are: creatures who ooze insecurity, anger, and paranoia. We have endured this affliction ever since that first moment when consciousness emerged in the tiny brains of distant ancestors on some African plain. We awoke to something overwhelming, and it produced a stain that we seem unable to wash away, no matter our centuries worth of ritual, prayer, and art. And yet, it is all an illusion, a trick in our overheated minds that constantly mistakes "reality" for what is real. We are blind, not unclean, and our Parent is eager to restore our sight. But they also know that we need to make the first move, we must crave healing, and therein lies the challenge. How many of us wallow in our supposed filth, because it feels easier to subsist in the dirt, rather than live in the light? How often do we gaze upon our world, soak in its pain and misery, and think to ourselves that joy and love are nothing more than fairy tales? Who among us is bold and brave enough to kneel before God and beg to see all that truly is? Will you turn to Them in your time of darkness, and be filled with the light of grace?
Sunday, February 8, 2015
Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
It is easy to be pessimistic about life. Misery and mayhem have never been in short supply. Neither have drudgery, nor chaos. Brokenness has always appeared to reign supreme in too many lives and too many places. So what are we to do? Numb ourselves with amusements? Give in to our fears and doubts? Or perhaps surrender to something else instead? Faith. Beauty. Wonder. The kiss of a cool breeze. The dance of a pair of butterflies. The splendor of the most ordinary flower. We do not need miracles to heal our hearts and souls. No, our Parent has provided us with so many lovely balms, but they tend to go overlooked because they feel too simple and pollyannaish. And maybe they are. And maybe that is the point, that the purpose of our existence is not to indulge our schemes and dreams, but to merely bear witness to something we can barely describe. So will you drown in the sorrows of the so-called "real" world? Or will you live in the hope of all that is wonderfully real?
Sunday, February 1, 2015
Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
We are constantly deluged by voices claiming to speak for God. So how do we know which ones are real and true? What signs should we look for as evidence of divine favor? Do we hope to be dazzled with supernatural powers? Or are we content to settle for the merely superhuman? What about those poor schlubs who possess neither popularity, nor institutional credentials, nor the proper lifestyle, nor a resume full of righteous deeds? Do we dismiss their words out of hand, or give them an opportunity to penetrate our hearts? How many prophets pass our tests, but spew more bile than love? And how much grace do we walk away from, because we could not prove its value in advance?
Which brings us to the elephant in the room: why should you believe that my voice is genuine, that the revelation I share is Truth, that I speak for our Parent? I have no proof, only words. But they are not really my words. They are a song I see in the eyes of the middle schoolers in my detention room, full of rudeness and disrespect, but also promise and hope. A song that screams from the mountains that climb above my hometown, a blinding sign that the kingdom is far grander than our little dog and pony show of an existence. A song I did not compose, but one whose lyrics I cannot help but write, for they are ripe fruit bursting from every nook and cranny of creation. How can anyone not hear this song or taste this fruit when it is so overwhelmingly omnipresent? They are yours for the taking, but you do not take them, do you? And so God asks a poor schlub like me to try to open your eyes. And so I offer you words, just words, and ask you to "harden not your hearts."
Sunday, January 25, 2015
Third Sunday in Ordinary Time
We always think that we have God figured out. And they are continuously reminding us that we really do not have a clue. Justice. Mercy. Salvation. The kingdom. None of these are what we expect them to be. If there is something for which we need to repent, it is probably our assumption that our Parent is as petty and provincial as we are. Yes, "teach us your ways, O Lord," for we are in desperate need of your truth, confounding though it may be, and this is indeed "the time of fulfillment."
Sunday, January 18, 2015
Second Sunday in Ordinary Time
"Here am I, Lord; I come to do your will." Such words are never far from my lips or my heart, yet that divine will remains as mysterious as ever. And this is good; it is as it should be. Our Parent does not have a ten-point plan for us to execute, much to our disappointment. No, they simply ask us to listen and to look, and then to share. They offer wonder, not clarity or certainty. It is different than what we expected, as it was for the first disciples. But once the shock of the cross wears off, perhaps we too will find ourselves somewhere beautiful. Yes, amazing things happen when we trust in God's plan, as strange and mysterious as it might be. So, "here am I, Lord; I come to do your will."
Sunday, January 11, 2015
Feast of the Baptism of the Lord
"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the LORD." It is important for us to remember this, especially when life seems most vicious and cruel. There is much about this world that will never make sense to us, but that does not make it senseless. Every moment of every last life is a seed that in time, be it centuries or millenniums, will produce the most sublime fruit. This is not just a lucky reality that our Parent happens to be able to see, it is what they intended from long before time began. And it is how they can proclaim that each of us, even those we find most foul, is their beloved child, with whom they are most emphatically pleased.
Sunday, January 4, 2015
Solemnity of the Epiphany of the Lord
What has this child done to deserve such adoration? Yes, there is hope of deeds to come, but those things lie far off in an uncertain future. All we have for sure is his existence, and that is enough. God is here with us, with all of us, and that is enough. We forget this too often and too easily. We expect love to be something more, something busier, than simply showing up. Perhaps that is why we look around and see a trash heap or an amusement park, instead of the rose garden that is actually there. So open your eyes. Your king awaits. And her mere presence is everything you need.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)