Ascension

The Ascension: Going Home

Sister Wendy Beckett is a Catholic hermit who lives in England. She also had a long-running BBC television show on art, that drew a large and delighted audience. Since today is Ascension Thursday (and still a holy day of obligation in parts of the world), I thought we could listen to Sister Wendy’s thoughts on Duccio’s Appearance on the Mountain in Galilee, the painting that accompanies this blog post.

[The painting] shows Jesus before he makes any movement upward. He is speaking with that unearthly authority that so riveted all who heard him. It is their word that will convert the waiting nations. Is it they, up to now only followers, listeners to Jesus, who are now to take the pulpit and teach others, baptize others, do for them what Jesus has done in their own lives…

Jesus has longed for this day…[there] is the quiet statement, made in prayer to the Father, “I am coming to you.” Coming to the Father has been the driving force of Jesus’ life. That is where he is at home, that is where he belongs.

Those words give us pause. Of course Jesus must have been, in essence, homesick. How weary He must have been of His mortal body, a body that was fully divine, but also fully human. Even more, He was separated for so long from His Father, a Father with whom He is joined in an unimaginable way. Indeed: He wanted to go home!

Now, the Apostles must have left that mountain downcast. Their Lord and Master, who miraculously rose from the dead, was now gone … and not returning. Yes, He promised to send His Spirit upon them, but they must have felt great loss.

However, underneath that very understandable human grief, there was something else: joy.

Yes, joy. Why? Because Christ’s Ascension solidified their belief that Heaven awaited them as well.

In a sermon to commemorate today’s solemnity St. Leo the Great said: “Today we are not only made possessors of Paradise but with Christ we have ascended, mystically but also really, to the highest Heavens and have won through Christ a grace more wonderful than the one we had lost.”

The Ascension strengthens and nourishes our hope of attaining Heaven. It invites us always to lift up our heart, as the preface of the Mass says, and seek the things that are above. Our hope is very great because Christ himself has gone to prepare a dwelling place for us.

Most of us know what it is like to say a final good-bye to someone we love. Our grief can be overwhelming! But when we are assured that our loved one died a holy death, there is also joy. We trust God’s mercy and love; we pray that our loved one is now home with God, free from the pain of this mortal life.

It is hard to imagine the Ascension. It stretches the limits of our imagination as to how Jesus rose from the grass and rocks of that mountain top, enveloped in a cloud that melted into a vast sky. What is not hard to imagine is how the Apostles left that mountain: saddened, but filled with hope and joy. Their Lord, whom they loved, was now home where He belonged, and that home awaited them as well.

Gladden us with holy joys, almighty God,
and make us rejoice with devout thanksgiving,
for the Ascension of Christ your Son
is our exaltation,
and, where the Head has gone before in glory,
the Body is called to follow in hope.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

hope girls

Trust in Jesus: 4 Reasons Catholics Are Full of Hope

On the 6th Sunday of Easter, we hear from St. Peter in the second reading. Since it is St. Paul who dominates the writings of the New Testament (outside of the Gospels,) it is good to hear from St. Peter. This section of 1st Peter focuses on hope.

Hope, the Church teaches, is one of the three theological virtues (the others are faith and charity.) Hope is:

… the theological virtue by which we desire the kingdom of heaven and eternal life as our happiness, placing our trust in Christ’s promises and relying not on our own strength, but on the help of the grace of the Holy Spirit.

St. Peter makes it clear that hope is a hallmark of a person who follows Christ.

Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope, but do it with gentleness and reverence, keeping your conscience clear, so that, when you are maligned, those who defame your good conduct in Christ may themselves be put to shame. (1 Pt. 3:15-16)

It’s rather odd that Peter is so focused on “hope,” since the young Church was being persecuted. Peter and the other Apostles were run out of town, imprisoned, brought up on various charges. But they went forward, with great hope.

As modern Christians, we might be tempted to abandon hope. Our world certainly is dismal. Christians are the most persecuted religion across the globe. Violence, culture wars, and just plain old evil seems to be winning the war for souls.

But we have hope. And we need to be able to tell anyone who asks why we are so hopeful. Here are just four reasons:

  1. The first and foremost reason for hope is Christ. We believe (just as we say at most Masses) that Christ became Man, took our sins upon Himself, died and then rose again. As St. John Paul II said, “We are an Easter people, and alleluia is our song.”
  2. We have been promised Heaven. If we love God and do His will, we gain eternal happiness with Him in Heaven. That’s an immense reality, and the source of much hope.
  3. We are not in this alone! Yes, our world is scary and dangerous and sometimes evil, but we are never alone! First, Christ promised He would never leave us along (see John 14.) Further, we have a community of brothers and sisters in Christ to lean on, to help us live better and holier lives, and to pray with and for us.
  4. The sacraments are a source of hope. Because we are baptized in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, we live in Christ and He is us. St. Paul says, God chose to make known the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles; it is Christ in you, the hope for glory. (Col. 1:27.) In the Eucharist, Christ gives His very Body and Blood; we consume and He dwells in us.

Let us live in such a way that all may see the hope we have as Christians. May our hope gives others hope as well, as we make known Christ Jesus.

worry

Are You Strangling Yourself With Worry?

Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your life-span?
Why are you anxious about clothes?
Learn from the way the wild flowers grow.
They do not work or spin.
But I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor
was clothed like one of them.
If God so clothes the grass of the field,
which grows today and is thrown into the oven tomorrow,
will he not much more provide for you, O you of little faith?

The Gospel for the 8th Sunday of Ordinary Time has Jesus being practical: Why are you worried? God is in control. Your faith should be in Him alone, and that should give you peace of mind.

We know how hard this is. If you’re a parent, you know that, from the moment you become a parent, you view the world as an incredibly dangerous place. Everything becomes a potential hazard: Lock up all the sharp knives! Make sure the car seat is properly installed! And it seems to get worse as your child gets older: Driving?? Who thought teens driving was a good idea?!

Maybe you are constantly worried about money, or lack thereof. Perhaps the political climate has you on edge. Or are you worried about your job? Our lives seem to become a constant battleground of worry and faith, of anxiety and peace.

The word “worry” has its roots in the Old English meaning, “to strangle.” This seems accurate: we want the control of taking our worries by the throat, so to speak, but they always seem to get the better of us, and we end up getting strangled! And this turnabout is one that leads to spiritual death: our constant worrying becomes an obsession, forcing out faith and replacing it with fear.

Christ does not want us to live a life of fear. He wants us to have lives rooted in faith, hope and love. Fear destroys this, if we let it. It’s easy to disregard this Gospel passage as sort of a “self-help” Christian advice column, but that is far too simplistic. Christ’s Good News is that the very worst that this world has to offer (sin and death) no longer have a hold on us. They can no longer strangle us, if you will. Christ drives out all fear, all death, all hopelessness. Instead, He brings us hope. He brings us peace of mind. He brings us eternal life.

third day christmas

On the Third Day of Christmas

On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me, three French hens

The three French hens symbolize faith, hope and love.

Today is the feast of St. John, apostle and evangelist. John, along with his brother James, were called “sons of thunder” in the Gospels. Maybe they had thundering voices, or were known to have bold personalities. Jesus saw something in these two, as He invited them to become His Apostles.

Jesus’ call changed John’s life forever. He became the “beloved” disciple, and was with Jesus for the Transfiguration, but also for Jesus’ Passion and Death. The only Apostle to stay with Jesus throughout the crucifixion, Jesus asked John to care for our Blessed Mother following her son’s death. John is also understood to be the author of the Book of Revelation, a book of visions into the heavenly banquet that awaits us.

John certainly had faith. He believed that Jesus was who He said he was: the Messiah. John gave up everything to be with Jesus, to learn from Him, to understand how God was creating a new covenant and that the whole world needed to hear this message. His faith was so unshakeable that he remained with Christ as He died; he refused to hide as the other Apostles did.

John was a man of hope. As he stood at the foot of the cross, comforting Mary, John had to recall all that Jesus had taught the Apostles. He had to have hope that the cross was not the end, no matter how terrible and ugly it was.

John loved. He loved Jesus. He loved Him as his Messiah, but also as his friend. John’s relationship with Jesus should be a model for all of us: we should call Jesus our “beloved” and pray that He does the same for us. John loved Mary, and took her into his home, caring for her as his own mother, modeling for us the relationship we should have with her.

John would likely be a bit shy about attention drawn to himself. John’s life, as an Apostle, as a Christian, was a life that was centered on Christ. His passion was learning from Christ. He loved him and wanted to do the work given to him by Jesus. His love gave him the strength to stand at the foot of the Cross and watch Jesus die a horrific death. John’s will became the same as Christ’s, and he followed the perfect advice of Mary: “Do whatever He tells you.”

Today, as we continue to celebrate the birth of our Lord, let us ask St. John, a man of faith, hope and love, for his prayerful intercession: St. John, friend of Jesus, pray for us.

[From the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops: “The liturgical season of Christmas begins with the vigil Masses on Christmas Eve and concludes on the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord. During this season, we celebrate the birth of Christ into our world and into our hearts, and reflect on the gift of salvation that is born with him…including the fact that he was born to die for us.” There are, however, the traditional “12 Days of Christmas,” captured in the song of the same title. Some claim the song was meant as catechism of a sort, written and sung for nearly 300 years of British persecution of Catholics. We will be using both the song and the Church’s liturgical calendar to celebrate the Christmas season. We hope you enjoy.]

Our Lady of Guadalupe

Advent: ‘How Can This Be?’

TODAY’S ADVENT REFLECTION FOR THE 3rd MONDAY OF ADVENT, 2016

Today is especially joyful. We are celebrating the Third Week of Advent, which begins with Gaudete (Rejoice) Sunday. We celebrate that we are drawing closer and closer to the momentous celebration of the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ. The Church is especially joyful today, the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe.

In today’s Gospel, we recall the Annunciation: the angel Gabriel announcing to Mary that God has found favor with her, and asks that she bear a son, Jesus. Her response is very human: “How can this be?!” She is a virgin. How can she possibly be pregnant, let alone with the Son of God, the Messiah?

In 1531, Mary appeared to a poor Aztec Indian, Juan Diego. Her message to him? That she wished for a church to be built on the hill where she appeared. Certainly, St. Juan Diego must have thought, “How can this be? How is it that my Mother appears to me? How can I, a poor man, build a church?”

When Juan Diego, ever obedient, went to the bishop and described what he had seen and what Mary asked, the bishop’s reaction was, “How can this be? How can the Mother of God appear to such a one as this?”

All three had legitimate questions. Mary was willing to accept what the angel told her – even though it was beyond human understanding. Over 1500 years later, Mary received the same question from Juan Diego. His obedience reflected hers however; Juan Diego believed his Heavenly Mother, despite the unbelievable task she set before him. And while we might scoff at the bishop for not believing Juan Diego, no bishop can lead his people astray by giving credence to what could possibly be the delusions or imaginings of a person, no matter how pious that person may seem to be. He truly needed his question answered.

In this season of Advent, we do well to reflect on the question, “How can this be?” How can it be that God – the Alpha and Omega, He Who was, Who is and is yet to come, the Creator of the Universe – can come to us in the beautiful but quite ordinary form of a baby? How can it be that this infant, as an adult,  could give us His very body and blood as food for our spiritual journey? We can even ask ourselves, how can it be that God has brought me to this spot, this place of belief, this place of darkness and light, this Advent?

How can this be?

How can a young unwed Jewish girl bring forth from her womb the Son of God? How can a poor Aztec man, who owned little more than the tilma on his back, see the Blessed Mother and obediently do as she asks? How can a learned bishop be brought to his knees by the mysterious image of the Blessed Mother on this poor man’s tilma? How can this be? These things can only be with faith, hope and love.

It is faith that allowed Mary to assent to the unbelievable request of God. It is faith that spurred Juan Diego to relay the Blessed Mother’s request to the bishop. And it was faith that brought the bishop to his knees. Mary’s hope was that God – regardless of the circumstances – was going to lead her. The Lady that appeared to Juan Diego and called him “dear son” filled him with hope that he could indeed deliver this Heavenly message. And it was hope that moved the bishop to preserve the tilma, with its image of the Blessed Mother, and begin the task of building the church she asked for. It was love that allowed Mary to say, “Be it done unto me according to Your will,” for she knew that God loved her first. Love of his Mother gave Juan Diego courage to return to the bishop’s residence again and again with his task. And love it was that allowed the bishop, with the evidence of Juan Diego’s message in front of him, to embrace His Mother, the same Mother as Juan Diego’s, and to follow her request.

How can this be? That is the question of the season of Advent, a season of anticipation and wonder, of questioning and of delight. How can this be? It all can be, because God gives us faith, stirs up in us hope, and loves us beyond all measure.

[Throughout the 2016 Advent season, we will be bringing you posts from a variety of writers. Our hope is that each of these will be a meaningful way for you to slow down, pray well, and prepare for the coming of our Lord. Today’s blogger is Elise Hilton, who regularly writes the“Living the Good News” blog for Diocesan Trinity Publications. Hilton is a writer, speaker and former educator, who now serves in the Marketing & Communications Department for Diocesan Trinity Publications. She is also an avid reader, wife, mom of five and passionate about music.]

courage hope

Advent: Seeking The Lord With Courage And Hope

Today’s Advent reflection for the 1st Friday of Advent, 2016

We enter Advent hopeful and anticipatory!  Like children waiting for Christmas?  Or is there something else much more meaningful that we can be doing during Advent?  For how much more can we hope?  Isaiah tells us that all good things are possible!  There is a gift here for everyone in this passage.  Those of us who are concerned about the environment may read that the earth will be restored.  Those of us in need of physical healing might read that we will be healed.  If we are in confusion or sadness, we will anticipate being lifted out of gloom and darkness.  The lowly and poor hear hope that those who tyrannize them or who are too lofty to care about them will disappear from their lives.  And what a relief to hear that evil will be cut off and the just will be vindicated!

In this passage Isaiah conveys a powerful message that the Lord God wants us to know that the Lord is in our midst!  There will be no mistaking that we will see the work of his hands.  The people of God will be so impressed they will reverence the God of Israel and keep his name holy.  The weak and wayward in spirit will acquire understanding and those who find fault will get redirected.  Wow!  That about includes everything on my Christmas list!

So what is our response to this amazing news?  Do we see Advent as the time to sit back and wait for all these good things to happen to and for us?  Like children wait for Santa Claus?  No, it can be more than that!  The Psalm for today says we can ask for even more than Isaiah says is coming.  We can ask for entry into the house of the Lord where we may gaze on the loveliness of the Lord and contemplate the beauty of his temple all the days of our lives.  There we shall see the bounty of the Lord in the land of the living.  But there is a catch.  The Psalmist says we have to wait…..it seems that one of the tensions with our faith is centered in all that God promises to us is already, but not yet.  There is a lot of waiting going on…..but it is a special kind of waiting, I think.

During Advent, this waiting is something like preparing for Christmas.  It is an active waiting in which we can reflect on what is it that we really need and want beyond that Christmas list.  Children prepare for Christmas by hoping and anticipating, but adults engage in the season by working to make it happen.  In many ways that is the difference between adults and children in terms of our faith as well.  Children aren’t good at waiting.  Becoming an adult means we learn to wait…..while actively engaging in life.   I like to practice Christmas the way I practice Advent, which is to anticipate and celebrate all of the events that lead up to it more than just the events on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day.  I like the busyness of the holiday season.  Christmas is the coming together of families and friends, the sharing of the blessings of hospitality and good food, and the thoughtfulness of considering how we might provide good cheer and good will through gift giving to those we love and those in need.  In those ways, many of us celebrate Christmas all year long.  It keeps us busy!

So then, what is so special about Advent?  I think it is a special time of lifting up our hope to a higher level of consciousness in our faith.  It is a time to wait for the fullness of the Lord with renewed courage.  It is a time to experience more deeply the light and salvation of the Lord in our lives.  That’s why we light all those candles!  And Advent is a time to really grapple with the darkness of our fears and our unbelief.  It is a time to be stouthearted, for what have we to fear?  Jesus tells us in Matthew that he can do anything for us according to our faith….if we just believe.  Like children who believe in Santa Claus?  No, like the adult people of God who will acquire even more understanding of the bounty of the Lord in the land of the living that is here, already.  It is the belief in the hope that the Lord can do anything.  No matter what our circumstances, all things are yet possible.  But to see and understand that, we must have courage in our refuge, in our light, and in our salvation.  So I pray with all of you, that Advent will be for each of us a time of lifting up our hope to a higher level.  I pray that Advent is for each of us a time of courageous hope and anticipation for a better world in which we will share all the gifts we have been given of faith, love, peace, joy, mercy, acceptance, hospitality, self-less giving, and a genuine sense of brotherhood with all of humanity.  If we believe in Jesus, we can do this with him, for him and in him.

[Throughout the 2016 Advent season, we will be bringing you guest posts from a variety of writers. Our hope is that each of these will be a meaningful way for you to slow down, pray well, and prepare for the coming of our Lord. Today’s guest blogger is Barbara Dilly of Creighton University’s Department of Sociology and Anthropology, reflecting on the Mass readings for Friday, December 2.]

one step away

One Step Away From Mercy

As a Church, we continue to celebrate the Year of Mercy. What a blessing this year has been to so many of us: a time to reconcile, a time to find peace within ourselves and with God. Pope Francis continues to use the theme of mercy to teach us about the ways of God, our Father.

This past Sunday, in the pope’s Angelus address, he spoke of the parable of the prodigal son.

Pope Francis said that what is most striking about the parable of the prodigal son is not the sad story of a young man who left his father and fell into sin, but his decision to “arise” and go to his father.

“The way back home is the way of hope and new life. God awaits to forgive us out on the road, waiting for us patiently, he sees us when we are still far away, he runs towards us, embraces us, forgives us. So is God! So is our Father! And his pardon erases the past and regenerates us in love,” the Pope said.

“When we sinners convert,” he continued, “we do not find God waiting for us with reproaches and hardness, because God saves, he gathers us home with joy and partying.”

Still, we all know how hard it is to make that decision to “arise” and ask forgiveness. We want to, but we are afraid. What if we are not met with open arms and joy? What if our Father is still angry with us? What if we are just too far gone to ever get back home?

The Christian band, Casting Crowns, answers this last question in their newest song, “One Step Away.” The song reminds us that no matter how far we have traveled, how big a mistake we may have made, we are still only one step away from our Father’s forgiveness.

It doesn’t matter how far you’ve gone
Mercy says you don’t have to keep running down the road you’re on
Love’s never met a lost cause

“Love’s never met a lost cause.” Every one of us has spent some time thinking we are a lost cause. Whether it is because of our own sin and arrogance, a loss in our life that we can’t seem to get over, or the pain and hurt we’ve felt when we are betrayed by someone we love, we’ve all said to ourselves, “This is a lost cause.”

But God has never met a lost cause. He has never looked at any of his children and thoughts, “There is not hope there.” No, God is nothing but hope, love, mercy … and he is always willing to forgive and gather us home.

hope

Do Not Lose Hope, For God Will Reign

St. Paul tells us that there are three things that truly matter: faith, hope and love. We must, as Catholics, not only assume these exist in our lives, we must constantly cultivate them. Like a tender garden in our soul, faith, hope and love must be sown, watered, saved from choking weeds, and strengthened by our daily attendance.

Hope. St. Paul tells us that, even when we are in affliction, we must hope. Indeed, affliction produces hope, through endurance and character. There is nothing that should separate us from our hope in Jesus Christ.

And all that is good and right and true. But then we watch the news or see another daily horror visited over and over again on social media. Violence and bloodshed and children missing and injured and those sent to help denigrated. The weeds begin to creep in, intertwining with hope, suffocating hope from the light it needs to survive.

But that is not the end. The weeds and the violence and the sense of abandonment are not the final word. Christ is the beginning and the end, the Alpha and Omega. He is our answer, the Light our garden needs. We are not meant to be left alone, isolated, bereft in a garden that no longer produces good, but is now only an abandoned lot that no one claims.

Father Luis Espinal, S.J. knew this. Our little plot of hope needs our attention, now more than ever. Fr. Espinal gave us just the prayer we need.

There are Christians
Who have hysterical reactions
As if the world had slipped out of God’s hands.
They are violent
As if they were risking everything.

But we believe in history.
The world is not a roll of the dice
On its way toward chaos.
A new world has begun to happen
Since Christ has risen.

Jesus Christ,
We rejoice in your definitive triumph
With our bodies still in the breach,
Our souls in tension;
We cry our first “Hurrah!”
Till eternity unfolds itself.

Your sorrow now has passed.
Your enemies have failed.
You are the definitive smile for humankind.

What matter the wait now for us?
We accept the struggle and the death,
Because you, our love, will not die!

We march behind you on the road to the future.
You are with us. You are our immortality.

Take away the sadness from our faces;
We are not in a game of chance.
You have the last word!

Beyond the crushing of our bones,
Now has begun the eternal “Alleluia!”
From the thousands of openings
In our wounded bodies and souls,
There now arises a triumphal song!

So teach us to give voice
To your new life throughout the world,
Because you dry the tears of the oppressed forever,
And death will disappear.

hope

‘The Religion Of Maximum Hope Born Of Despair’

Andrei Sinyavsky was an interesting man. Not the type of “interesting man” who sells us beer as he sits, surrounded by beautiful women. No, Sinyavsky was interesting in that he spoke the truth in a time and place where doing so could cost one’s life.

Sinyavsky was a writer in Soviet Russia. In 1966, he was sentenced to hard labor for “anti-Soviet activities” and for his “pro-Zionist” opinions (he wrote under a Jewish pseudonym.) He considered himself a Christian, but primarily a writer and promoter of freedom. Yet the imprint of faith was found his work. He once said, “The text of the gospels explodes with meaning. It radiates significance, and if we fail to see something, this is not because it is obscure, but because there is so much …”

He writes of faith like that of a foot soldier: one whose faith has been tested and found true. He has no illusions of Christianity being a faith of false cheerfulness or of gripping drama. It is not a play that once seen, sends the audience home thinking that they’ve seen something entertaining, but not terribly meaningful. No, Sinyavsky knows that to be a Christian is to be embattled in this world. Just as some would judge a soldier rushing into battle to be a fool rather than brave, so to the Christian.

Look at them, the heroes of Christendom. You won’t find many prudent ones among them. Their story is a long succession of martyrdoms and deaths … They are soldiers, displaying their scars and wound to the world as decorations.

And who enlists with them? People of all nations, the scum of the earth, even criminals, but always those who have taken the cross. Anyone can join: the ignorant, the sinful – provided he is ready to throw himself into the battle. If is the religion of maximum hope born of despair.

Is there any better symbol of that “hope born of despair” than Christ on the cross? We Christians stand with one foot in the grief and despair of Good Friday and another foot in the bloom of hope on Easter morn.

And so, we rise again to battle the evil of this world. We join the ranks of Francis of Assisi, Mother Teresa, Paul, Dorothy Day: fools for Christ, heroes for Christendom. We dare to hope in a world of despair because we know Christ, and trust in His promise of everlasting life.