Watch!

Watch!

Despite a bit of concern that I might start to be viewed as a presumptuous would-be-homilist, I’m reflecting about the upcoming gospel reading again, on this December First Saturday of 2023.

But as a writer, I’ve always been intrigued by diction, the word choices we make to convey what we want to say.

While we have no way of easily confirming the accuracy of transcription or translation in any of the traditional readings for the First Sunday of Advent, the customary gospel uses one word, “watch,” four different times, in three different ways, within a 98-word passage.

Any word used every 24.5 words in a single brief teaching monologue must surely be significant, especially when that teacher was Jesus. So, I feel it’s a worth a little bit of dissection, to consider why Our Lord placed so much emphasis on this one concept.

“Jesus said to his disciples:
“Be watchful! Be alert!
You do not know when the time will come.
It is like a man traveling abroad.
He leaves home and places his servants in charge,
each with his own work,
and orders the gatekeeper to be on the watch.
Watch, therefore;
you do not know when the lord of the house is coming,
whether in the evening, or at midnight,
or at cockcrow, or in the morning.
May he not come suddenly and find you sleeping.
What I say to you, I say to all: ‘Watch!’”

— Mark 13: 33-37 (https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/120323.cfm)

Our first encounter with the word “watch” is as part of an adjective, “watchful,” and we’re immediately given a synonym, “alert.” Jesus seems to be describing a habitual condition that he would like his disciples to inhabit. That condition could also be described as “paying attention.” Attentiveness appears to be an internal quality that we are encouraged to develop.

Then, we are introduced to two nouns, a “gatekeeper” who is “on the watch.”

Lovingly-preserved Medieval house in a contemporary Medieval neighborhood, viewed from the city wall, Rothenburg, Germany. Photo Credit Fr. Lawrence Hoffmann, published with permission.

From paleolithic times, there have been lookouts on hills overlooking valleys, guardians on mountain peaks above passages between cliffs, gatekeepers in watchtowers embedded in city walls, who have served to help keep their communities safe.

The noun “a watch” has most often described a defined a unit of time with specific limits — “I’ll take the first watch, and you can take the second” — during which the person on duty was expected to provide vigilance for all.

So now, a dimension of community responsibility has been added to the internal personal quality of alertness.

And immediately, it is repeated, for the first time as an imperative verb, “Watch.”

“Watch me!” Children shout as they wave going by, up-and-down, round-and-round, on a carousel.

We “watch” the sky for incoming storms, traffic on the freeway for wayward drivers, the bathtub filling, so it won’t overflow.

We “watch” our cakes and Christmas cookies baking in the oven, often while others in the family are “watching” a parade or football game on television.

As writers, we are always “watching” our budgets, and our word counts. 

The Cambridge English Dictionary offers this definition for the action verb “watch”: “to look at something for a period of timeespecially something that is changing or moving.”  (https://dictionary.cambridge.org/us/dictionary/english/watch)

There are two important elements here.

The first is “a period of time.” The verb “to watch” does not mean a brief glance; it means focused attention for long enough to take in the nature, conditions, and dimensions of what is being watched.

The second is “something that is changing or moving.” “Watching” involves engaging in, and recognizing, a process of change and a direction of movement.

Christmas Market Square, Rothenburg, Germany. Photo by Margaret Zacharias, published with permission.

The Christmas markets in Europe, of which Rothenburg is one of the most famous, do offer material goods for purchase as gifts. But their most memorable value is in the experience itself — a satisfying bite into a hot brat on a bitterly cold day; the comfort of a hot cup of chocolate or gluhwein; live musical notes, floating with ephemeral snowflakes in the air.

Do we want broken budgets from too much online shopping this Advent? Do we want morose, unhappy households from endless consumption of ugly world news? Do we want stressed out children from too much sugar, and too many toys?

Or do we want the peace of gratitude for our blessings, the warmth of a simple, unhurried family meal, and the grace of acknowledging that we have enough?

Our Lord’s words speak directly to our authentic needs as human beings, and to the world as it really is.

There have always been wise servants “watching” — and there have always been thieves.

In this new Advent Season that we are about to embark on together, may we be the disciples of Christ who can look into the eyes of our children and grandchildren, our neighbors and friends, with awareness of who they really are, and who they are striving to become.

May faith, hope, and love fill our hearts, and theirs.

Watch.

Featured Photo: Watchtower in the Medieval City Walls, Rothenburg ob der Tauber, Bavaria, Germany, on the plateau overlooking Tauber River ravine.  Author’s personal photo, published with permission.

© Copyright 2023 by Margaret King Zacharias

Mom Hated to Clean!

Mom Hated to Clean!

My mom was a typical mom in all but one thing. She hated to clean!

Mom was a good Catholic girl who went to work in a restaurant at 16 and didn’t finish high school until she got her GED at the age of 32, followed by a college degree in art. Later, she was an optometric dispenser for Montgomery Wards and several other companies before she retired. She didn’t make millions of dollars doing it, but she loved what she did. She’d help pick out new glasses or calm those who were told they needed glasses for the first time, or—several times a year—she would be there for people who were told they would lose their sight or lives to a tumor that was found because of an eye examination. Many of these people became lifelong friends; for others, she would go to their funerals, comforting their families.

How did she get to know all these people? Simply by offering to clean their glasses.

Now, you would think that cleaning is cleaning. Not so to her. If she cleaned at home, she would immediately elicit my and Dad’s help in whatever project she conjured up. Then, after the couch was moved, or everything was out of the cabinet, or the beds were moved to a different room, the white tornado clouds of Lysol, Pine Sol, or vinegar would appear. As much as she hated cleaning, she loved the results and always commented, “Well, that wasn’t so bad. We should do this more often.”

The other thing mom loved to do was go to church. She was always the most comfortable—not at Sunday Mass—at the Tuesday night Novena Mass. She loved being in a church at night, with the votive candles flickering and the sight and smell of incense wafting upward—especially during Advent, when the sun went down around 5 p.m. She would usually drag me along and plop me down in the pew next to her, sometimes to pay attention to the priest, others to sit on the kneeler and use the seat for a desk so I could draw a boat or dog or house. I once asked her why she liked the Tuesday night Novena Mass so much. With a calm look and a slight smile, she said, “Because I feel so clean and straightened after.”

Now that I think about it, Mom was very similar to Saint John the Baptist. Since John was the son of a High Priest of the temple, I’m sure he grew up in a comfortable life with finer things—the best cuts of meat, great clothes, never going hungry. But as he got older, he felt restless. He wanted to work, not go to school. He wanted to do what God was telling him to do. He wanted to help people. And, just like Mom, he would go to heroic lengths to “clean.” He went to the desert; he wore only scratchy, stinky camel skin and ate locusts and honey. He would look out in the night sky, not at votive candles flickering, but at stars. He would see the smoke rise, but instead of incense, it was from his small fire for warmth. And just like Mom, John would comfort the people who came to him. He would tell them there was a better life, a life with God, and a life worth “cleaning” for.

So, he would get right down in the river, roll up his sleeves, and clean. He would baptize with Lysol for the spirit, wash away sins with the Pine Sol of the Holy Spirit, and lift them out of the Jordon with the cleaning vinegar of sanctity running down their cheeks and back. And, just like Mom, John would take whoever came to him—young or old, rich or poor, woman or man, heathen or heretic … they were all God’s children, and he was there to serve.

In Advent, we read in the Old Testament,

Comfort, give comfort to my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem and proclaim to her that her service is at an end, her guilt is expiated… A voice cries out: “In the desert, prepare the way of the Lord! Make straight in the wasteland a highway for our God! Every valley shall be filled in, every mountain and hill shall be made low; the rugged land shall be made a plain, the rough country, a broad valley …” (Isaiah 40:1–4)

In the New Testament, we have John appearing “in the desert proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins… and [they] were being baptized by him in the Jordan River as they acknowledged their sins” (Mark 1:4–5).

Like Mom and John the Baptist, we have heroic cleaning to do. Advent is the perfect season to clean the closet—of our souls. Vacuum up the carpets—of the times we know we missed the mark. And clean your glasses—so your heart can see the goodness of God in everyone you meet during this season of expectation.

Copyright 2023 Ben Bongers

Little Sundays

Little Sundays

Every Sunday is a Holy day of obligation, a day set aside to gather with community and worship Our Father in heaven. This day can also be observed by attending a Sunday Vigil celebrated on Saturday evening. Catholic teaching instructs us to refrain from engaging in work or activities that deter the worship owed to God. Recently I took a day away and referred to it as my “Sabbath,” and I pondered whether or not, in today’s society, these teachings are being honored.

I can admit that I have worked on Sundays in the past. Whether it be writing, cooking, or cleaning, these all take on the energy of work and direct my attention away from worshiping God. I could argue that my writing is spiritual and for the Glory of God, so perhaps that is allowed. I’ve yet to answer that thought. However, I know that engaging in writing on the Lord’s Day is different than attending church, coming home, and reflecting on the readings, sermon, and worship music.
It would be lovely to come home from Mass and simply enjoy celebrating God with my family and friends over a meal. My husband and I like to watch old black-and-white television programs, where families are often depicted attending church service on Sundays and then relax on their front porch, carelessly and effortlessly enjoying the day of rest. I guess observing the Lord’s Day in past generations proved a little easier to do. I wonder what it would feel like if, in today’s culture, we made a considerable effort to set this day aside for the one who created us.

“Work shall be done for six days, but the seventh is the Sabbath of rest, holy to the Lord.”
Exodus 31:15 NKJV

My sabbath day away showed me how much my heart and mind craved one-on-one attention with God. I promised myself more of these days away from my routine to enjoy a full day of prayer and spiritual activities. I’m a little nervous about the holidays approaching if I will be able to honor the time I have set aside. I am organized and a good planner, but we all know how life intervenes and takes us off course. Because of that, I began thinking about other ways to honor God ahead of Sundays and days of spiritual enlightenment. I hope that by creating Little Sunday moments, my heart will be ignited and thirsting for more of God. All the while effortlessly easing me into honoring the seventh day of rest.

I have a few ideas based on my individual preferences. However, you can all devise your own Little Sunday moments. Each day, our local Christian Radio station, 95.5 The Fish, invites listeners to pray The Lord’s Prayer. Engaging in those few minutes is enough to draw the Lord into my day and close to my heart. Another opportunity is praying the Divine Office or Liturgy of the Hours. Many Catholic prayer apps and online tools can help you get started.

If you want to keep your focus on Jesus, honor the day of rest, and grow closer to God, then consider praying about how God is calling you toward Him. From this, devise your plan for Little Sundays throughout your week. Engage in conversations with your family and friends, inviting them to participate. For the time being, when I feel called to write on the Lord’s Day, I will first engage in prayer and allow God to guide my thoughts. If they end up on the page, I know it was because God designed it for His Greater Glory. God calls us to be set apart or different from ordinary things and turn our focus toward Him. I pray that your Little Sundays become stepping stones toward your complete surrender to the Sabbath day of rest, holy to the Lord.


Copyright 2023 Kimberly Novak
Images: Canva

The Five Cs of a Good Confession

The Five Cs of a Good Confession

Nothing warms my heart more than a long line for Confession. I love when other sinners respond to God’s call to repent. I find it especially beautiful when our parish has penance services during Advent and Lent, and our church is filled with priests and lines and lines of sorrowful Catholics seeking God’s endless forgiveness and mercy. As we near the beginning of our Advent season of preparing for the coming of Jesus, it’s time to start preparing our hearts for repentance.

The Sacrament of Confession begins long before you enter the confessional. It starts when you complete your examination of conscience. There are many options available for you to use, and I personally use a woman’s one based on the seven deadly sins. I have also seen some based on the Ten Commandments or focused on motherhood.

Regardless of which examination of conscience you use, be sure to spend time in prayer, and slowly and thoroughly think about everything you have done and everything you have failed to do. Once you properly examine your soul and let the Holy Spirit bring to mind the sins you need to confess, it’s time to go before the priest.

I recently learned about the 5 Cs of Confession on a podcast by Father Mike Schmitz, and I find them helpful as I prepare for the sacrament. Hopefully, you’ve had the chance to receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation recently. If you haven’t, remember that as Catholics we are obligated to receive this sacrament at least once a year (but it is so much more fruitful when you go more often!). Whether you make it to Confession weekly or haven’t been in years, keep these 5 Cs in mind to have the best Confession possible.

  1. Clear

When confessing, speak clearly and specifically. The priest needs to both be able to hear what you are saying and also understand the exact nature of your wrongs. Avoid mumbling or talking about your sin in vague terms. This is our time to openly bring our sins to God in anticipation of His endless mercy.

  1. Concise

We’ve all been sitting there in line for Confession and found ourselves watching the clock tick on and on and on. The truth is that Confession is a time for confessing, not for story telling. If you find that your Confessions go on for a while or that you feel like you have more to say, I encourage you to make an appointment to visit with your priest instead of using the limited Confessional time. If he is not available, seek the ear of a friend or find professional help from a counselor or a spiritual director.

  1. Concrete

Confession is not a time for abstract thoughts or partial admittances. You shouldn’t say things like, “I might have hurt my husband’s feelings,” or, “I sort of yelled at a coworker.” To make an honest Confession, truly acknowledge your sins and state them concretely.

You also need to be wary of our human tendency to justify our sins by bringing the sins of others into our time in the confessional. While pertinent context is appropriate, don’t attempt to minimize your sin by highlighting someone else’s. If you find yourself saying something like, “She did this horrible thing to me first, so of course I retaliated by . . . ,” you need to pray for the Holy Spirit to help you focus exclusively on your own transgressions.

  1. Complete

A good confession includes an honest sharing of all of your sins, not just the ones you feel comfortable sharing out loud. If a sin is honestly forgotten during your Confession, you are still forgiven. If, however, you intentionally do not speak a specific sin out loud, that sin is not forgiven. I find it helpful to write my sins on a piece of paper to bring with me so I don’t accidentally forget any of them. I especially love ripping up the paper afterward and throwing it in the trash, knowing that those sins are gone forever!

  1. Contrition

This is the real heart of Confession—and the most important part. We have to be truly sorry for our sins in order to fully receive the forgiveness and mercy that the Lord longs to pour out to us. If you find yourself struggling with contrition, either because you love your sin or because you feel justified by the circumstances, pray to God that He will change your heart.

When you put the 5 Cs into practice for regular trips to the confessional, your spiritual life and relationship with God will grow and blossom in unexpected ways!

Copyright © Maria Riley 2023

Love Is Life that Pours Itself Forth

Love Is Life that Pours Itself Forth1

Why must the path of self-giving love also be the path of the cross? Can’t we be loving people without having to travel the way of the cross? No, we can’t. At least, we can’t be the deeply loving people that God has called us to be (Mt 16:24; Mk 8:34; Lk 9:23). Because we were created to share in the divine love, we’re called to learn to love as God loves. And that means being willing to break ourselves open and pour ourselves out in love for God and our fellow human beings, just as Jesus did on the cross. And that requires busting some holes in the walls that we have all built around our egos, the walls that get in the way of love: walls of pride, and self-protection, and self-pity, and fear, and prejudice, and hatred, and anger, and . . . the list goes on and on.

Sacrifices made for the sake of the beloved and suffering undergone for the sake of the beloved help to punch holes in those walls we’ve built around our egos, holes that allow the divine love to flow into us more freely and to then flow back out of us to God and neighbor. Self-sacrifice and suffering for the sake of others help us break out of the self-imposed dungeons of our egos and join more fully in the eternal circulation of love. That’s why sacrifice and suffering turn out to be required courses in the school of love. That’s why we all have to be willing to walk the way of the cross. Yes, it can be painful (sometimes, very painful) to open ourselves up to love, to open ourselves up to self-sacrifice and suffering for the sake of love. But doing so also turns out to be immensely fulfilling, even joyful. We are most fully alive when we are most fully breaking ourselves open and pouring ourselves out in loving self-gift to God and neighbor, for it is precisely then that we participate most fully in the superabundant, overflowing love and life of God.

[i] Hans Urs von Balthasar, Heart of the World. San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1979, p 25.

This article is an excerpt from Rick’s latest book, The Book of Love: Brief Meditations.

Photo by Henrique Jacob on Unsplash

Copyright 2023 Rick Clements

With God, You Can Handle Anything

With God, You Can Handle Anything

 

I had the gift of an extra-fruitful spiritual direction session not too long ago. I usually keep the details of the conversations between me, the director, and God. However, there are moments where sharing my experience may benefit others, and this is one of those times.
I cannot recall the topic we were discussing when my director began to share a story about a three-handled coffee mug. She told me when she presented this thought exercise to others in the past, they became overwhelmed and anxious at the thought of how to hold it or use it. As I began to imagine it in my mind, I was intrigued and excited all at the same time. When my spiritual director asked how the three handled mug made me feel, I couldn’t help but share that I saw the persons of the Trinity—a handle for Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

While imagining this mug, the emotions of anxiety and stress never entered my mind. I felt peace knowing I was in good company. I had actually hoped there might be a fourth handle on which to place my own hand. I began to consider all of the times in my life when I needed the power of God to move mountains. That handy coffee mug would be a reminder that both all things are possible with God and that I am not alone.

I also related to why having a cup with that many handles would confuse some. I considered times when I felt pulled in multiple directions and how difficult it is to anchor myself in one place. I believe that worry is the thief of joy, and I consider anxiety the brother of worry. Don’t get me wrong, there are many times when my mind wants to let fear win, but my prayer experience reminds me that I am not supposed to tackle life alone. God is in it with me.

Thinking back on that session, I laugh at how surprised my director was by my response. I was the only person she had encountered who wanted a three-handled mug and the strength it would give me.

In their book called Personal Prayer: A Guide for Receiving the Father’s Love, Fr. Boniface Hicks, OSB and Fr. Thomas Acklin, OSB brought up the topic of anxiety as a gift from God. When we experience anxiety, it comes in the form of a felt emotion. Usually, it sends off an alarm that something needs to be corrected. We can take this signal and consider it a direct alert from God, letting us know that we want to take control. Then we can bring it to God and surrender the situation to Him. How wonderful it is that we can go to God for help, and what a powerful image it is to imagine our hand, with the Trinity, banding together as one to accomplish anything.

A month after this session, I still could not get the image of the three-handled cup from my mind. I had an unquenchable longing to hold one and imagine God’s hands along with mine, having a conversation over a cup of coffee. I finally allowed the urge to win out, consulted the internet, landed on eBay, and a week later I clutched my three-handled mug. The cup is hand-made pottery, with a bumpy texture. The sentimental type I am, I can imagine the hands of the person who created it. I slide my fingertip across the initials scratched into the bottom, too blurred to make out. A reminder of my imperfections and the faithfulness of God. The space where the handles joined the cup reveals finger swipes, merging the clay. A prayerful moment brings me peace in connecting with another person who loved that cup while combining myself with the persons of the Trinity.

I’ve prayed with the cup only a couple of times, and depending on what I fill it with, there may be a heaviness to it, or it remains light. I have also filled it with feelings, concerns, and prayers. Imaginative prayer is not for everyone, but if it connects you to God, go for it. In my days, when life gets so heavy I need to unload, I place my hands alongside the persons of the Trinity and lift my cup to the heavens. I may not be able to handle things independently, but I can do all things with God.


Copyright 2023 Kimberly Novak
Images Copyright Canva

Book Review: Putting Joy into Practice by Phoebe Farag Mikhail

Book Review: Putting Joy into Practice by Phoebe Farag Mikhail

One of the appeals of the Phoebe Farag Mikhail book, Putting Joy into Practice: Seven Ways to Lift Your Spirit from the Early Church (Paraclete Press), is the author’s conversational tone in which she addresses forms of prayer. With the 2023 release of the audio version, the listener hears the author pull from her own experiences and those of others who work ceaselessly through difficulties, drudgeries, and triumphs to achieve the peace and elation that come only from an intimate relationship with God regardless of the circumstances. Like a caring friend who sits you down with a cup of tea and tells you what you need to hear, and not what you want to hear, she invites you to come along on this journey to an elation that supports us in this life and leads us to the next.

Achieving joy may initially sound easy, but it is not, the author admits. How does a grieving woman find comfort after the tragic death of her sister? When does a harried mother find rest after the city sewage leaks into her basement office and playroom? Why would a nation express jubilation over the beheadings of their own countrymen? It is found only through the embrace of the Resurrection and achieved with faith and persistence in the seven practices Mikhail describes: praying the hours, visiting the sick, repentance, thanks, hospitality, arrow prayers (short, spontaneous prayers in times of need), and songs of praise. First published in 2019, the book took five years to write in part because of the difficulties author faced and her desire to tell the story honestly. “Unlike me, my mother has a naturally joyous personality,” confesses Mikhail, the daughter and wife of Coptic Orthodox priests (p. 32).

She expresses awareness of the way modern culture offers immediate, superficial comforts in diets, technology and other fads and robs us of a more profound life. “For many disappointed young people, the stress of finding or following a passion creates impatience with the boring work of persistent practice that leads to mastery, and they experience failure and false starts … “ (page 24).

She differentiates joy from happiness. “For a long time, I confused joy with happiness, and sometimes pleasure,” she explains (page 14). “Easter means Resurrection, but it also once meant chocolate, cheese, chicken―everything I couldn’t eat during the Great Lent. Those are pleasures, but they don’t bring joy.”

She would like to help people pursue the better path. Shiny trinkets now or eternal life later? It’s a choice and a bumpy passage. The flow of the book and pace of the audio, combined with the author’s careful voicing clearly helps the listener transition through chapters move along to find his or her own way. Mikhail’s story is told from the perspective of her Egyptian Coptic faith which makes it unique and nuanced, even for Roman Catholics. That is where the seven methods come in which are common throughout Christian denominations. Mastering them bring us closer to Christ, which fulfills the ultimate joy. The compact volume (166 pages, excluding notes) and the audio, which runs 4 ½ hours, are so filled with stories and suggestions that each version supports the other. The listing of Arrow Prayers on pages 136-137 makes a quick reference. But the audio allows listeners to hear the author, in her pleasant and natural voice, sing songs of praise in the related chapter, a quality the reader misses.

She connects prayer and community with Christ and, with each chapter, Mikhail grips the reader/listener with a thought-provoking opening. How will she take the story of a desert monk and turn it into a lesson about visiting the sick? What does astronomy have to do with singing praise? Practice Four begins, “I never thought a suicide bombing would teach me the true meaning of thanksgiving―until April 19, 2017.” (pg. 84) She addresses basic questions like what is joy and why is it so hard? She refers to “joy thieves,” which seek to steal our joy. Here she spends time on the seven deadly sins. The author provides an abundance of sources that quote from an array of disciplines and philosophers, including ancient texts, modern psychology, CS Lewis, St. Augustine, and the Dalai Lama.

Putting Joy into Practice, while covering a profound and mysterious topic, is both an easy read and listen, thanks to the author’s style. Whether paging through in comfort at home or putting the advice to the test while listening in the car during rush hour, Phoebe Farag Mikhail offers friendly spiritual guidance that, for more than 2000 years has served many, from ancient desert fathers meditating on God’s wisdom to modern men and women desiring to grow their lives with God and one another.


Copyright 2023 Mary McWilliams
Feature Image by Jill Wellington: https://www.pexels.com/photo/lady-in-beach-silhouette-during-daytime-photography-40192/

Giving Back to the Giver

Giving Back to the Giver

We tend to think of our lives as entirely our own, to do with completely as we please, but they’re not. Our lives are a total gift from God, given to us out of God’s love for us, out of God’s desire to share his life with us. “Already to exist is a work of love!”[1] The fact that you’re here, that you’re alive, is, in itself, a sign of God’s love for you. You didn’t have to exist; innumerable others could have existed in your place. But God chose you. God chose to give you the gift of life, to offer you a share in the divine life. God chose you for a unique place within the Body of Christ. God chose you for a unique mission of love within the Body of Christ, a mission that no one else can fulfill.

Surrendering your life to God is then, in reality, merely offering back to God, in gratitude, the gift that you have already been given. Surrendering your life to God is an acknowledgment of that gift, and an offer to allow God to use your life in whatever way God wills for the good of the rest of the Body of Christ. To surrender your life to God is to offer yourself as a channel, a conduit, for the divine love.

Surrendering your life and your heart to God can begin right now, today, with a simple prayer. Maybe something like the following, or something similar, expressed in your own words:

Thank you, Lord, for the gift of my life. I give my life back to you in love and gratitude for that gift. Do with my life as you will. Use me as your instrument in the world. Help me to see and fulfill the mission of love you have planned for me.

Learning to completely surrender our lives and our hearts to God is actually a lifelong process. We may sometimes feel the gravitational pull of our egos, seeking to draw us back into our old self-centered ways, away from God and our mission of love. That’s why it’s good to pray some version of this prayer of surrender on a regular basis: as a repeated expression of our love for God, as an ongoing request for God’s guidance and grace, and as a reminder to ourselves of the commitment that we have made to God and to our God-given mission.

[1] Hans Urs von Balthasar, Heart of the World. Translated by Erasmo S. Leiva. San Francisco: Ignatius, 1979, 26-27.

* This article is an excerpt from Rick’s latest book, The Book of Love: Brief Meditations (https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BVSXX6P9/)

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

Copyright 2023 Rick Clements

A Move Yet Still Home

A Move Yet Still Home

Last spring, I moved with my family to Kansas, which is my ninth lifetime state (I also studied abroad and lived in London for four months, so if you count that, I’m in the double digits). Only recently did I begin to appreciate the blessing that being Catholic truly is.

Like most cradle Catholics, I’ve always had God in my life. Growing up, weekly Mass and CCD were omnipresent. As we’ve grown our own family, those same traditions have persisted. Regardless which state or city we moved to, a Catholic parish and the True Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist was always available.

Prior to this move, we lived in Florida, and our parish there was something special. Not only were we close enough to walk or bike ride to Mass, but that parish felt alive in a special way. The list of ministries was lengthy, and there were always events or service projects we could be a part of. I volunteered with faith formation, participated in the moms’ ministry, Walking with Purpose, and Bible study. There were monthly socials after a daily Mass, quarterly family events after the Youth and Family Mass (where kids served as ushers and lectors), and no shortage of friendly conversations in the parking lot. To say we loved this family-friendly parish would be an understatement.

When the news came that we were moving to Kansas for my husband’s new job, my heart sank knowing we had to leave our parish. It really had become a second home for us. I knew we wouldn’t find a parish like that in Kansas. I had lived in seven other states in my life, and that parish is unique.

My husband and I traveled to Kansas for a weekend to get to know the area and do some house hunting, and we visited the local Catholic Church for Sunday Mass. My heart was hardened before I walked into the sanctuary. I simply knew it wouldn’t be as good as our old parish.

I looked around and proceeded to judge everything. The tabernacle wasn’t prominent enough. The crucifix was too small. The choir performed instead of inviting us to participate. The priest was old and unenthusiastic. Everything I saw I disliked, and I wanted to be back in Florida.

Then the homily began. I don’t remember the readings for that Sunday, nor do I remember the beginning of the homily. What I do know is that God spoke directly to me that day through his faithful servant’s words.

He reminded us that we don’t come to Mass every week because of the priest or the social time. We come because Jesus meets us here, body, blood, soul, and divinity in the Eucharist. No matter which church we are in, he comes to us there.

Bam. My hardened heart softened. I was struck, and instantly humbled at my own arrogance and pride. Tears flowed down my face as I really let Jesus into my heart. Jesus reminded me that I’m there for him. Not the priest, not the building, and not the socialization. It doesn’t matter which parish I belong to, because Jesus is there for me, and I come to meet him. That’s all that matters.

I looked back on all the states and all the parishes and finally fully appreciated the gift I have in the Catholic Church. While I do still miss my old friends and the community of the parish in Florida, my heart remains grateful for his presence that I’m able to receive, regardless of where I live.

Maria Riley 2023

To sin, or NOT to Sin. That Is the Question.

To Sin, or NOT to Sin. That Is the Question.

The philosophy Jesus gives us in Matthew 18 is, “Three strikes—you’re out!” (That is until you’re ready to reconcile.) If someone sins against you, you should 1) speak with them alone, 2) then with another from the church (community), and finally 3) with the whole church.

So, what is “sin”?

Sin comes from the Greek word Hamartia, which means “to miss the mark or target,” as in missing a target in archery. So, how do we come back from “missing the mark”? By seeing you missed, admitting you need to practice the shot, then changing your technique until you get it right. The key here is 1) seeing, 2) admitting, and 3) changing. This is reconciliation. Reconciling or doing what it takes to hit the mark and be reunited into a community.

We humans have a terrible habit of glossing over or not wanting to admit seeing the lead-up to the evil act, then jumping on the sin as if it came out of nowhere. We justify, “It’s okay if I do it just this once …” or “Maybe it’s time to walk on the wild side?” or “If I don’t admit the problem, maybe it’ll go away.” That’s like refusing to train your puppy to give a sign when it needs to go outside, then being upset when the poor pooch does its business on your carpet!

So, is sin only a personal issue, or can groups or communities sin?

I’ll admit it: I admire some practices of the other Abrahamic religions—Judaism and Islam. The Jews have Yom Kippur, or the “Day of Atonement,” where they as a people quite literally beg God for atonement and reconciliation from sin as a people for their collective sin. And Muslims have Ramadan, where they detach from worldly pleasures and focus on one’s inner self, performing good deeds to atone for any collective sin they, as a people, have committed.

In contrast, we Catholics have a personal sacrament—Reconciliation—but not a communal one, one that would allow us to atone and reconcile as a Faith or community.

Am I my brother’s (or sister’s) keeper?

Sin doesn’t just happen! There are signs that lead up to the big sin event—signs we need to become aware. Paul essentially tells us in Romans 13 that sin is any action that doesn’t show love for another—putting your own good first.

We ARE responsible for helping others do the right thing, keeping them on the right path, helping them to grow their conscience, according to Ezekiel 33. In this case, WE are the “Watchmen” for doing the right thing. Who wouldn’t correct a child if they were going to touch a hot stove or throw a rock through the neighbor’s window? How is it any different when we see people in our community, our city, or our nation not doing the loving thing for another?

Is pointing out sinful acts scary? It can be. Is it risky? It can be. Remember, Jesus never promised it would be easy! So, is it my job to be “my brother’s or sister’s keeper”?

Well, I think you know the answer to that.

Copyright 2023 Ben Bongers

Catholic Writers' GuildAI
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