February 29th

Pope Gregory XIII established the calendar we currently use to count our days, weeks, and years, back in 1582.  And there have been calls for its reform more or less continuously ever since. There are differences in the details, but in general the reform advocates say that every month should have the same number of days, and every date should fall on the same day of the week.

These appeals for a new ordering of days always fail, partly because humans resist change, and partly because an unchanging calendar seems a little too rigid, a little too perfect. Logic and perfection have their place, to be sure, but so do flexibility and imperfection. February 29th is a good date to celebrate the latter.

And how appropriate that it falls during this holy season of Lent, a season that challenges us to look at the patterns of our life, and to evaluate the effectiveness of those patterns at assisting us in our pursuit of the life that is to come. 

And once we have done the evaluation, inevitably we are called to make changes. 
We are called to think outside the usual box that our days and weeks and years tend to become.  We are called to shift priorities and focus more completely on those things that truly matter, those things that will help us, and those in the world around us, to come one day to the glories of the Resurrection.

May our Lenten practices truly help us in this process, so that our every thought, word and deed might indeed draw us closer to the Father's Kingdom of true and lasting peace.

prayer

‘My Word shall not return to me void.’  Thus proclaimed the prophet Isaiah.

One of the cornerstones of Lent is prayer – the first of the ‘big three’: prayer, fasting, and almsgiving.  Our readings have focused quite a bit in the first days of Lent on fasting, but today they turn our attention to prayer.

We all know the importance of prayer.  We all know how central prayer has to be for our lives – talking to God, pouring out our hearts to God, asking God for what we need.

And, prayer is indeed all of that and more.  I say ‘more’ because if we compare prayer to the living intimacy between people who love each other, we will clearly see that if their conversations are one-sided, if they do not let the other speak, if they do not listen with the same intensity with which the other pours out their needs, then something is wrong.  Communication does not exist. 

As I tell couples preparing for marriage, communication needs the active participation of both parties.  If one party is speaking, but the other party is not listening, there is no communication happening, and nothing is being accomplished.

The same is true with prayer.  There is no communication taking place between us and God is at least part of our prayer does not include sitting quietly and listening.

In this Lenten season we are challenged to evaluate our spiritual life, and to consider how we pray.  Is there room in my time with God to just sit quietly and listen to Him, or am I, for instance, trying to ‘squeeze a rosary in’ during Mass?  Must I always be the one doing the talking or reading or planning, or do I allow God to do some of that as well?

May our answers to these questions allow us to make the changes we need in our prayer life, so that a greater communication with God will indeed lead us ever closer to the Father’s Kingdom of true and lasting peace.

What did you give up for Lent?

‘Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.’

Jesus' parable of the Sheep and Goats is familiar to us all, I'm sure, but it got me thinking about it's meaning in terms of Lent.

Lent tends to be a season of self-imposed deprivation.  Do we not ask one another, ‘What did you give up for Lent?’

And while it certainly is good to deny ourselves of extras, perhaps our Lenten sacrifices might serve a greater purpose if we seek opportunities to offer mercy or ease suffering.  We can still ‘give up’ things for Lent, but with a different twist. 

What if, for instance, we gave up selfish and self-serving attitudes?

Or what if we gave up seeking more and more when there are others who have so little?

Or what if we gave up feelings of entitlement and deserving a larger portion of the earth’s bounty because of who we are, or where we live, or what we do?

Or what if we gave up our time, talent, and treasure to those who enjoy so few of the luxuries of life that self-denial isn’t a choice for them?

May our Lenten practices serve to assist us to heed God’s charge to Moses to not sit idly by when our neighbor’s life is at stake.  But may they allow us, through all we say and do, to help build the Father’s Kingdom of true and lasting peace.

Rainbows

'I set my bow in the clouds to serve as a sign of the covenant bwteen Me and the earth.'

The rare and beautiful event of a rainbow usually lasts only a short while, but its colors and soaring form make a lasting impression.  I can remember seeing a rainbow over our church steeple a year ago.  I ran in to get my camera, thinking what an awesome shot that was, only to return to find it gone, with only a vivid image in my mind.  I remember a rainbow down below our hiking group after we ascended Mt. Madison in a driving sleet and hail storm, wanting to take a picture but knowing that the orientation would not come out in a photo.  We seem to remember the rainbows we encounter alog the way, don't we?

In the Hebrew Scriptures the rainbow symbolizes God's promise to Noah never to destroy the earth and all its breatures again with water.  But, just as important, it was a sign of the wonderful re-creation of the word after the destruction of the biblical Flood.

This holy season of Lent offers a unique opportunity to make a course correction on the path toward God.  The goal is clear: the new life of Easter, fixed before your eyes like a glorious rainbow.  It is an image that must remain always imprinted in our minds.

May the Lord strengthen each of us to persevere in our Lenten practices, so that through all we say and do, we might indeed be drawing ever closer to eternal life in the Father's Kingdom of true and lasting peace.

Follow me

‘Follow me.’  This is Jesus' simple command, simple request, in the Gospel passage from today's Mass.  On this 4^th day of Lent, Jesus challenges us to ask ourselves who or what do we really follow in our daily lives, and how can we follow him more closely eacha nd every day.

People fill their days and lives following all sorts of things – money, issues, people.  Even in the church we can very easily follow the wrong things.

Some people follow preachers; they shop around until they find a pastor they like.  But Jesus said, ‘Follow me.’

Others follow their pet issues; they become obsessed with immigration, or health care, or government, or abortion, or gun control, or the end times.  But Jesus said, ‘Follow me.’

Some follow a particular denomination; those who belong to that denomination are true Christians, and those who don’t….well, we will pray for them but we don’t want to have much to do with them.  But Jesus said, ‘Follow me.’

And who can follow?  Anyone, even a tax collector like Levi.  It matters not who we are or where we have been.  Jesus simply says to us: ‘Follow me.’

May our continued journey through this Lenten season allow us to more closely follow Jesus in all that we say and all that we do, so that in sharing in his Passion and Cross, we might also come one day to share with him in the glories of the Father’s Kingdom of true and lasting peace.

Fasting and Abstaining from Eating Meat

‘This is the fasting that I wish: releasing those bound unjustly, setting free the oppressed, sharing your bread with the hungry, sheltering the homeless, and not turning your back on your own.’

In his role as prophet, Isaiah confronts the people of Israel about their worship practices, and their faithfulness to the covenant with God.  Like St. James in the New Testament, Isaiah reminds us that our religious activities don’t mean much unless they lead to action and service.

One out of six people in the current generation lives in extreme poverty – not simply below the poverty line established by government organizations, but extreme poverty.  Extreme poverty means living in danger of death because there is no food.

We live in a country where food is made affordable by subsidies, and meal programs are available to make up the shortfall, and so it is very difficult for us to imagine the kind of suffering starvation entails.

But if one in six neighbors were hungry, wouldn’t the other five feed that person?

On all Fridays of Lent, we are required to abstain from eating meat, and on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday, fasting is required of those between 18 and 59 years of age.  Some question the purpose of such regulations.  After all, is there not more penance involved in eating a McDonald's hamburg than a lobster dinner? 

Fasting and abstaining from eating meat reminds us that our neighbor IS hungry, and that it is our responsibility to help.  Eating a lobster dinner in lieu of meat is not within the spirit of the law.  But, even if we refrain from eating meat and still give no thought to those who go without anything to eat this day, we have missed the whole point of what the regulation is trying to instill in us.

May all of our Lenten practices truly assist us to go forth and do what we can, on whatever level we can – local, national or international – to assist those in extreme poverty, so that in continuing the work of Jesus himself, we might truly assist in the building of the Father’s Kingdom of true and lasting peace.

Polycarp

‘I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse.  Choose life.’ 

This passage comes from the Book of Deuteronomy, and is our Mass' first reading on this day after Ash Wednesday; quite appropriate considering Lent is all about reviewing our choices.

Life is a series of choices and decisions.  Some of those decisions are routine: what to eat, what to wear, how to get everything done that needs to get done.  Other decisions are far more significant, and can impact us throughout this life and on into the next life.

You have to admire the early Christian martyrs, not only for their courage but also for the defiance, even confidence, with which they faced the choice to die for their faith rather to give in to things they knew were wrong.

The bishop Polycarp, whom the church honors today, had been a Christian his whole life, but for some reason the Romans waited until he was 86 years old – an unheard-of age back then – to hunt him down.

He refused to flee, and when hauled before a Roman official, engaged him in lively debate.  When threatened with being burned at the stake – his eventual fate – he retorted that while the fires of martyrdom last only awhile, the fires of judgment never go out! 

Polycarp and other martyrs offer the example of those who reckoned their eternal fate more important than their earthly one, and thus made the decision to choose life – eternal life.

As we continue on this journey of Lent, let us pray that we might be strengthened to refocus our priorities and choices and decisions, so that in everything we say and do, today and every day, we might indeed be drawing ever closer to eternal life in the Father’s Kingdom of true and lasting peace.

Ashes

So Lent is here.  And we 'mark' this day by having a cross of ashes traced on our foreheads.  Many people, even those who do not otherwise attend Mass, come for this ritual, which causes me to ponder why we do this at all?  Do we think we are being blessed by God with this symbol?  Do we think it is a 'mark of protection' from God?  Or do we see this for what it is - a call to come to grips with our mortality and our place in the universe?

The ashes we receive are that reminder we all need that God is God and we are not, that in the grand scheme of things we are insignificant, and that all we have and all we are will, one day, be reduced to a pile (and a small one at that) of ashes.  I can remember the shock I felt when I first saw the cremains of a deceased person - shocked at how little there really was.  Yes, when we get right down to it, everything we deem so important, everything we get so uptight about and frustrated with on a day-to-day basis, is not so very important after all.

And so when we stop and think about all of this, and see the ashes on our foreheads, the only conclusion we can possibly draw is that we really do need to turn everything over to the One who IS in control, the One who guides and governs ALL things, the Lord of Life.  May we use these forty days to rid ourselves of all that gets in the way of doing that, so that we might journey with Jesus through his Passion and draw ever closer to our ultimate goal - eternal life in the Father's Kingdom of true and lasting peace.