Posted on

We Were Not Made For Exile

Click here for Spanish version

One of the most extraordinary things about Christianity is that we worship a God of mercy. All the other world religions are the story of humanity reaching for God; Christianity alone is the story of God reaching out to humanity, with forgiveness and mercy and love.

We are a people of exile. Our entire world, our entire lives, are drenched in an awareness of that exile. Our home is in heaven with God; we live our whole lives here in anticipation of joining him. “But certainly there was an Eden on this very unhappy earth,” J.R.R. Tolkien wrote in a letter to his son. “We all long for it, and we are constantly glimpsing it: our whole nature at its best and least corrupt, its gentlest and most humane, is still soaked with the sense of exile.”

The eloquence of today’s Psalm has fittingly been cast to music by generation after generation of Christians and even non-Christians, recognizing the echoes in their own hearts of the sheer despair of exile. “By the streams of Babylon we sat and wept when we remembered Zion… How could we sing a song of the Lord in a foreign land?” How often do we feel that we are living in a foreign land?

We’re surrounded by a culture that’s antithetical to our knowledge of and trust in God. We live in a world overrun by humanity’s cruelty, greed, and lack of kindness. How often do we feel like the only response to that sense of being lost is to sit and weep?

But—and here is where the magic happens—it’s not permanent. It’s not forever. We have to go through exile, but St. Paul affirms that there is something dazzling in store for us: “God,” he writes, “who is rich in mercy, because of the great love he had for us, even when we were dead in our transgressions, brought us to life with Christ.” The Hebrew Bible describes a people in distress, a people of grief, a people waiting; and the New Testament is ringing with God’s response, the gift of love and mercy he extended to us by becoming human among us. There is no exile big enough or long enough or brutal enough to keep us from that love. And today’s Gospel proclaims that love with words that we all memorized as children, words that are written on our hearts: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish, but might have eternal life.”

We have walked long in darkness, and would no doubt continue to do so, but for God’s mercy and forgiveness, which flow directly out of his love for us. “For God so loved the world”—simple enough words, familiar enough words, but words that turn the whole concept of religion on its head. This God of the Christians doesn’t simply allow devotees to come to him; this God reaches out to the world, which he loves so much that he became a part of it. He experienced everything we experience. The sense of exile. The pain of feeling lost. The impulse to sit and weep by the waters of Babylon. He experienced it, and then he transcended it.

All throughout Lent, that is the promise we are holding onto. Back in Advent we read that “the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.” The promise of that light was born at Christmas, and the fulfillment of that promise will rise from the dead at Easter. In between is Lent, a journey through exile. In his Collected Letters, C.S. Lewis wrote, “We are here in the land of dreams; but cock-crow is coming. It is nearer now than when I began this letter.”

It is nearer now than when I began this letter. It is nearer now than when we started on our Lenten journey. It is coming.

And exile will end.

Jeannette de Beauvoir works in the digital department of Pauline Books & Media as marketing copywriter and editor. A graduate of Yale Divinity School, where she studied with Adian Kavanagh, OSB, she is particularly interested in liturgics and Church history.

Posted on

No Somos Hechos Para el Exilio

Una de las cosas más extraordinarias de la cristiandad es que alabamos a un Dios misericordioso. Todas las otras religiones mundiales son la historia de la humanidad que busca alcanzar a Dios. Solamente la cristiandad es la historia de un Dios que busca alcanzar a la humanidad, con perdón y misericordia y amor.

Somos un pueblo del exilio. Nuestro mundo entero, nuestras vidas enteras, están empapados con la conciencia de este exilio. Nuestro hogar es en el cielo con Dios; vivimos nuestras vidas enteras aquí con la anticipación de unirnos a Él. “Pero ciertamente había un Edén en esta tierra infeliz,” escribió J.R.R. Tolkien en una carta a su hijo. “Todos lo anhelamos y constantemente vemos un poquito de él: nuestra naturaleza entera es corrupto a su peor y a su mejor, es lo más suave y lo más compasivo, y todavía está empapado con un sentido de exilio.”

La elocuencia del Salmo de hoy muy apropiadamente ha sido puesta a música por generación tras generación de cristianos e incluso no-cristianos, reconociendo los ecos en sus propios corazones de la mera desesperación del exilio. “Al lado de los riachuelos de Babilonia nos hemos sentado a llorar cuando nos acordamos de Sion… ¿Cómo podríamos cantar una canción al Señor en una tierra extranjera?” ¿Cuantas veces nos sentimos que estamos viviendo en una tierra extranjera?

Estamos circundados por una cultura contraria a nuestro conocimiento de Dios y nuestra confianza en Él. Vivimos en un mundo infestado por la crueldad, la avaricia, y la falta de bondad de la humanidad. ¿Cuántas veces sentimos que la única respuesta a ese sentido de estar perdidos es sentarnos a llorar?

Pero aquí es donde pasa la magia—no es permanente. No es para siempre. Tenemos que pasar por el exilio pero San Pablo nos confirma que algo resplandeciente nos espera: escribe que “La misericordia y el amor de Dios son muy grandes; porque nosotros estábamos muertos por nuestros pecados, y él nos dio la vida con Cristo. La Biblia Hebreo describe un pueblo afligido, un pueblo de pena, un pueblo que espera; y el Antiguo Testamento suena con la respuesta de Dios, el don del amor y la Misericordia que nos ofrece haciéndose ser humano entre nosotros, no existe exilio tan grande o tan largo o tan cruel que nos pueda excluir de este amor. Y hoy el Evangelio proclama este amor con las palabras que todos hemos memorizado de niños, palabras escritas en nuestros corazones: “Porque tanto amó Dios al mundo, que le entregó a su Hijo único, para que todo el que crea en él no perezca, sino que tenga vida eterna.”

Hemos caminado mucho tiempo en la oscuridad, y sin duda seguiríamos haciéndolo, si no fuera por la misericordia y perdón de Dios, lo cual emana directamente de su amor por nosotros. “Porque tanto amó Dios al mundo”—son palabras sencillas y familiares pero a la vez son palabras que voltean de cabeza todo el concepto de la religión. Este Dios de los cristianos no simplemente permite que los aficionados vengan a Él, este Dios estira sus brazos al mundo, lo cual ama tanto que se hizo parte de él. Experimentó todo lo que nosotros experimentamos. El sentido del exilio, el dolor de sentirnos perdidos, el impulso de sentarse a llorar al lado de las aguas de Babilonia. Lo experimentó y luego lo superó.

A través de toda la Cuaresma, ésta es la promesa a la cual nos aferramos. Durante el Adviento leímos que “el pueblo que andaba en las tinieblas ha visto una gran luz.” La promesa de esta luz nació en la Navidad, y la realización de esta promesa va a resucitar de la muerte en la Pascua. Entre medio cae la Cuaresma, un trayecto por el exilio. En sus Cartas Recolectadas, C.S. Lewis escribió, “Estamos aquí en la tierra de los sueños; pero la cacareo del gallo ya viene. Está más cerca ahora que cuando empecé esta carta.”

Es más cerca ahora que cuando empecé esta carta. Es más cerca ahora que cuando empezamos nuestro trayecto cuaresmal. Ya viene.

Y el exilio ya terminará.

Posted on

The Faith of the Publican

Click here for Spanish version

We are over half-way through Lent. I’m certainly not going to ask you about how you are doing with your Lenten resolutions when the Gospel of the day is the parable of the Pharisee and the publican! “Hey, look at me, God. I’m not like the others. I have kept all my Lenten promises. I haven’t touched candy, haven’t indulged in ice cream (my favorite weakness), like that person over there….”

Sometimes the “Lenten resolution culture” can lead to spiritual cheerleading for ourselves. I can see how that could easily happen. The season of Lent is long and requires a lot of personal strength to persevere to the end. And that’s where the devil can twist our desire to persevere to the finish line into a self-congratulatory triumph which is not quite what the season of love and mercy is meant to be.

“O God,” said the publican, “be merciful to me for I am but a sinner.” So what do we do with these Lenten resolutions at this point? In light of today’s Gospel, we could reflect on how we feel about our progress. Are we more like the Pharisee in the parable? Or more like the publican? Whether we have perfectly followed through on our resolves or not, the call of today’s Liturgy is to reorient ourselves in the depths of our heart to the attitude of the publican. From your deepest need and place of vulnerability, cry out to God for help. Leave behind your concern for what you have or have not done, and instead focus on arousing your intention on loving the Lord and being grateful for his loving-kindness toward you.

We might smart at the idea of comparing ourselves with the publican. But, in reality, the publican is simply living out the spirituality of childhood. A child depends entirely on parents and guardians for everything, and the publican here is professing his dependence on God for newness of life and the flowering of his holiness and humanity.

So as we come down to the final lap of our Lenten journey, it is okay to let go of some of the resolutions in favor of relationship with Jesus if that is where he is calling you. I think that’s what he wants anyway. He died to win our love, not our perfect compliance to self-made resolutions. These do indeed have their place, but only as a type of asceticism that helps us take on more and more of what builds our relationship with him by setting aside those things that block that relationship from flowering.

No matter how “successful” your Lent has been, gently bend low in worship, offer it to Jesus, and promise him your loving attention as you move forward.

Sr. Kathryn J. Hermes, FSP is an author, an active team member of My Sisters, an online faith community, and a compassionate mentor and guide. Through her writing and online ministry she takes others along with her on her own journey of spiritual transformation, specializing in uncovering in the difficult moments of life where God’s grace is already breaking through. Connect with her website and blog: www.pauline.org/sisterkathryn or find her at My Sisters. Learn more at www.MySistersinChrist.org.

Posted on

La Fe del Publicano

Ya estamos a más de la mitad de la Cuaresma. Por supuesto, ¡no les voy a preguntar cómo van con sus propósitos cuaresmales cuando el Evangelio de hoy es la parábola del Fariseo y el publicano! “Oye, Dios, mírame. No soy como todos los demás. He guardado todas mis promesas cuaresmales. No he tocado ni un dulce, no he comido helado (mi debilidad favorito), como aquella persona por allá….”

A veces “la cultura de los propósitos cuaresmales” puede causar que empecemos a echarnos porras. Puedo verlo pasando muy fácilmente. Esta época de la Cuaresma es largo y requiere mucha fuerza personal para perseverar hasta el final. Y allí es donde el demonio puede torcer nuestro deseo de perseverar hasta el final a un triunfo de auto-felicitación, lo cual no es lo de que se trata la época de amor y misericordia.

“O Dios,” dice el publican, “sé misericordioso conmigo porque soy pecador.” Entonces ¿qué hacemos con los propósitos cuaresmales ahora? A la luz del Evangelio de hoy podríamos reflexionar sobre cómo nos sentimos de los avances que hemos hecho. ¿Somos más como el Fariseo en esta parábola? ¿O más como el publicano? Aunque hemos dado seguimiento perfecto a los propósitos o no, el llamado de la liturgia de hoy es reorientarnos en lo más profundo del corazón para imitar la actitud del publicano. Del lugar más profundo de necesidad y vulnerabilidad, suplícale ayuda a Dios. Deja atrás tus preocupaciones de lo que han hecho o no han hecho, y enfócate en despertar tu atención hacia amarle al Señor y en estar agradecido por su bondad amorosa hacia ti.

Capaz nos duela la idea de compararnos con el publicano, pero en realidad el publicano simplemente está viviendo la espiritualidad de la niñez. Un niño depende completamente en sus padres y tutores para todo, y aquí el publicano está profesando su dependencia en Dios para renovar su vida y hacer florecer la santidad y la humanidad propia.

Así que, mientras nos acerquemos a la última parte de nuestro camino cuaresmal, está bien dejar algunas resoluciones a favor de una relación con Jesús si eso es lo que te está llamando hacer. Creo que eso es lo que Él quiere de todos modos. Se murió para ganar nuestro amor, no nuestra coherencia perfecta a los propósitos que hemos hecho nosotros mismos. Los propósitos sí tienen su lugar, pero sólo como un tipo de sacrificio que nos ayude a llenarnos más y más de lo que construye nuestra relación con Él, dejando a un lado aquellas cosas que impiden florecer esta relación.  

Sin importar que tan exitoso haya sido tu Cuaresma, inclínate humildemente en alabanza, ofrécelo a Jesús, y prométele su atención amorosa mientras sigas adelante.

Posted on

Love Your Neighbor As Yourself

Click here for Spanish version

A two-day retreat with twenty-nine eighth graders is one of the most exhausting experiences I’ve ever had. Junior high is a time where young girls and boys begin asking life’s big questions. They begin the journey of understanding who they are and why they have been created. The classic and easy answer to these questions can be found in the Baltimore Catechism. You are here on this earth to love and serve God. This sweet, simple, and very straightforward answer seems to hit the mark. Yes, we are created for love and by love. As human beings, we are made for relationship. Being made in the image and likeness of God means that we are made to reflect the love of the Trinity, a communion of divine persons in divine love. Teaching children these truths can be a bit challenging. These thirteen-year-olds have an overwhelming culture and environment that damages their understanding of “love”.  

In today’s readings, we hear Jesus proclaim the Greatest Commandment (Mk 12:28-34). Jesus gives us this short and profound commandment; to love God with all of our hearts, all of our soul, all of our mind, and all of our strength, and to love our neighbor as ourselves. Some may look at this great command and respond, “sounds easy enough.” Sitting in a room of thirteen-year-old girls showed me that this is not that easy. In the clickiness of ruthless teens, some students began to share their hurts and wounds. Many of these students have been the bully or the one bullied. They sat in a circle and shared their thoughts of how they believe the lies others say about them. They believed the lies from themselves or others that they are; ugly, fat, annoying, stupid, or nothing. As I sat in the circle, I looked around and only saw beauty. I saw girls who are kind, girls who are strong, girls who are mature, girls who are each uniquely and completely beautiful. Through conversation and tears, I was reminded of the very real fact that we struggle to truly love ourselves. I am no longer in junior high. I do not experience many “bullies” telling me these lies in my own life. Although, I do know what it is like to not love myself- just like my student’s experience. Sometimes I can be my own worst bully.

Whenever I read of Jesus’ Greatest Commandment, I always ask, “How are we supposed to love our neighbors as ourselves when we do not truly love ourselves?” To truly live out this Golden Rule, we must stop. We must look at ourselves and see value, worth, and beauty. Loving yourself is not selfish, but is necessary to living a holy life. The battle against ourselves in our interior life can be exhausting. But it is in this battle that we are required to receive God’s love and continue to fight the good fight. How are we to love our neighbor as ourselves? How are we to love ourselves? We are called to love ourselves and see ourselves in His Word of Truth.  We are called to love ourselves as God loves us.

It is in the Cross that we find our meaning, our worth, our dignity as human beings. It is only by living in the unending love of Christ, that we may love ourselves and love our neighbors as ourselves. Whether you are in junior high, a college student, or parent- we are constantly in this battle of lies. We must take comfort. Jesus wants to teach us how to love. St. Maximilian Kolbe said, “The Cross is the school of love.” It is upon the wood of the cross that we find how we are to love ourselves and how we are to love others. In this Lenten season, I want to challenge you to reflect on your own self-love. Do you believe or tell yourself lies? Are you choosing the ultimate good for yourself? Do you know the voice of Christ and what He says about you? I want to challenge you to truly see yourself and love yourself as Christ loves you.  It is from this battle that we may bear fruit in our love of God and our neighbors.

Briana CiancibelloBriana is a Catholic Doctrine teacher at Our Lady of Mt. Carmel school in Cleveland, OH. She received her Bachelor of Arts in Theology and Catechetics from the Franciscan University of Steubenville, OH and is excited to use these skills to bring her students closer to Christ and His Church. “My soul has been refined and I can raise my head like a flower after a storm.” -St. Therese

Posted on

Ama a Tu Prójimo Como a Ti Mismo

Ir de retiro por dos días con veintinueve jóvenes de octavo grado era una de las experiencias más agotadoras que he vivido. La secundaria es una época cuando los jóvenes y las jóvenes comienzan a hacer las grandes preguntas de la vida. Empiecen a entender poco a poco quienes son y porque han sido creados. La respuesta clásica y fácil a esta pregunta se encuentra en el Catecismo de Baltimore. Estás aquí en la tierra para amar y servir a Dios. Esta respuesta dulce, sencilla y directa parece llegarles. Sí, somos creados para amar y por amor.  Como seres humanos, somos hechos para relaciones interpersonales. Ser creados a imagen y semejanza de Dios significa que somos hechos para reflejar el amor de la Trinidad, una comunión de personas divinas en el amor divino. Enseñar a los niños estas verdades es un reto. Estos jóvenes de trece años tienen una cultura abrumadora y un ambiente que daña su entendimiento del “amor”.

En las lecturas de hoy, oímos a Jesús proclamar el Gran Mandamientos (Marcos 12:28-34). Jesús nos da este mandamiento corto pero profundo; amar a Dios con todo el corazón, todo el alma, toda la mente y toda la fuerza, y amar al prójimo como amamos a nosotros mismos. Algunos podrían ver este gran mandamiento y responder, “parece bastante fácil”. Estar sentada en un salón con niñas de trece años me demostró que no es tan fácil. Durante la dura adolescencia de hermandades, algunos estudiantes empiecen a compartir sus dolores y sus heridas. Muchas de estas estudiantes han sido abusonas o han sido intimidados por otros. Estaban sentadas en círculo y compartieron sus pensamientos de cómo creyeron las mentiras que los demás decían de ellas.  Creyeron las mentiras de sí mismas o de los demás que son feas, gordas, fastidiosas, tontas o que no importan nada. Mientras me senté en el círculo con ellas, las miré a todas y vi solamente belleza. Vi a niñas bondadosas, niñas fuertes, niñas maduras, niñas completamente únicas y bellas cada una. A través de la conversación y las lágrimas, me acordaba del hecho tan real que batallamos por amarnos verdaderamente a nosotros mismos. Ya no estoy en la secundaria. No tengo muchos abusones que me dicen mentiras en mi propia vida. Sin embargo, sí se cómo es no amarme a mí misma, igual que mis alumnas. A veces yo soy mi propia peor abusona.

Cada vez que leo sobre el Mayor Mandamiento de Jesús, siempre pregunto, “¿Cómo podemos amar al prójimo como a nosotros mismos cuando realmente no amamos a nosotros mismos?” Para vivir esta regla de oro de verdad, tenemos que pararnos. Tenemos que mirarnos a nosotros mismos y ver valor, mérito, y belleza. Amarte no es egoísta, sino es necesario para vivir una vida santa. La batalla contra nosotros mismos en la vida interior puede ser agotadora. Pero es en medio de esta pelea somos obligados a recibir el amor de Dios y seguir luchando la buena batalla. ¿Cómo podemos amar al prójimo como a nosotros mismos? ¿Cómo debemos amarnos a nosotros mismos? Somos llamados a amarnos y vernos en su Palabra de Verdad.  Somos llamados a amarnos como Dios nos ama.

En la Cruz es donde encontramos nuestra importancia, nuestro valor, nuestra dignidad como seres humanos. Solo viviendo en el amor sin fin de Cristo, podamos amarnos y amar al prójimo como a nosotros mismos. Aunque estés en la secundaria, un alumno de la universidad o un padre o una madre de familia, nos encontramos constantemente en esta batalla de mentiras. Tenemos que estar tranquilos. Jesús quiere enseñarnos a amar. San Maximiliano Kolbe dice, “La Cruz es la escuela del amor.” En la cruz es donde descubrimos cómo debemos amarnos a nosotros mismos y a los demás. Durante esta temporada de Cuaresma, quiero darles el reto de reflexionar sobre el amor que tienen hacia sí mismos. ¿Crees las mentiras o te dices mentiras? ¿Estás escogiendo el mayor bien para ti mismo? ¿Conoces la voz de Cristo y lo que dice de ti? Quiero darles el reto de verse y amarse verdaderamente como Cristo los ama.  Es de esta batalla que podemos rendir frutos en nuestro amor a Dios y a nuestros prójimos.

Posted on

Go To Confession

Here we are about half way through Lent, and this is typically the week that parishes and diocese have communal penance services. I thought we might take a break from our regularly scheduled blog post to remind everyone how important the Sacrament of Confession is in our lives. Check out the confession feature in myParish App to do an examination of conscience or go to www.discovermass.com to find a confession time in your area. Here is a brief message from my co-worker Susie that hits the point home.

 

Go to Confession 

In Charity – Susie Boone
Lover of the Sacraments

 

 

Posted on

Remembering God’s Presence

Click here for Spanish version

I’m forgetful, are you? I mean, I recently found myself getting more forgetful of why I came into a room, or where I put my keys. Names and details were slipping away from me. But that’s not the forgetfulness I’m talking about. Vitamins, some more rest, and less multi-tasking took care of this memory problem. The forgetfulness I’m speaking of here is a forgetfulness that besets us even as children. It is the fading of the memory of God. God has implanted this memory of him in us at the beginning of creation. It is in our spiritual DNA, you could say, that we are oriented to and revolve around the God who created us in His image and likeness.

Before the Fall, Adam and Eve enjoyed the presence of God in the garden of Eden. They enjoyed the vision of God face to face, says Gregory of Nyssa. Adam spoke directly to God. Our first parents lived a life without anxiety, impulse, gluttony, illness. They experienced an integrity that comes from living according to the virtues. Their whole being was directed to God and their minds and hearts were opened to God’s grace.

Then, tempted by the Serpent, Adam and Even turned from the path on which God had set all of creation. With minds and hearts darkened and fragmented and distracted, they sank into increasing pain and suffering, subject to anxiety, passions, and ego-centric delusions. By turning from the path God had set them on, it became more and more difficult to think of God, to remember him, to trust him, to pray to him.

So even though God imprinted his features and character in us at our baptism, we too find that it is a chore for us to remember God through the day and even sometimes when we are at prayer.

Today’s Old Testament reading from the book of Deuteronomy gives us good advice from the Lord about strengthening this spiritual memory. He tells his people to be on their guard and not forget the things which their own eyes have seen. He urges them not to let them slip from their memory as long as they live.

How can we do this?

Take some time to remember what your eyes have seen? Remember a time when God has been present to you or helped you or a loved one. Place yourself back in that moment. What was it like? What was happening? What did it feel like? Where was God present? What was God like for you in that moment?

Tell God how much you appreciate his presence and activity on your behalf. Perhaps write a letter to the Lord in your journal. Then listen to hear in your heart how God responds to you. Ask him to tell you what it was like for him to be there for you. What he desires for you. What you mean to him. Ask him if there is anything special he wants you to know about that experience of his love and presence.

Do not forget what your eyes have seen! Make a habit of this prayerful practice and fill your mind and heart with the memory of how God has shown you his tender concern.

Sr. Kathryn J. Hermes, FSP is an author, an active team member of My Sisters, an online faith community, and a compassionate mentor and guide. Through her writing and online ministry she takes others along with her on her own journey of spiritual transformation, specializing in uncovering in the difficult moments of life where God’s grace is already breaking through. Connect with her website and blog: www.pauline.org/sisterkathryn or find her at My Sisters. Learn more at www.MySistersinChrist.org.

Posted on

Acordándome de la Presencia de Dios

A mí se me olviden las cosas, ¿A ti te pasa? O sea, más recientemente, me encuentro olvidando más, incluso por qué he entrado un cuarto o donde he puesto mis llaves. Los nombres y los detalles me evadan. Pero no estoy hablando de este tipo de olvido. Tomar vitaminas, descansar más y hacer menos cosas a la vez ayudaron a resolver el problema de la memoria. El olvido de que yo hablo es el olvido que nos ataca incluso de niños. Es la disipación de la memoria de Dios. Dios nos ha implantado la memoria de Él al inicio de la creación. Podrías decir que está en nuestra DNA espiritual, que somos orientados a girar alrededor del Dios que nos ha creado a Su imagen y semejanza.

Antes de la Caída del Hombre, Adán y Eva disfrutaron de la presencia de Dios en el Jardín de Edén. Disfrutaron de la visión de Dios cara a cara, dice Gregoria de Nyassa. Adán le hablaba directamente a Dios. Nuestros primeros padres vivieron en un mundo sin ansiedad, sin impulso, sin gula y sin enfermedad. Experimentaron una integridad que viene de vivir de acuerdo a las virtudes. Su ser entero era dirigido hacia Dios y sus mentes y sus corazones estaban abiertos a la gracia de Dios.  

Luego, tentado por la serpiente, Adán y Eva se apartaron del camino que Dios había puesto para toda la creación. Con las mentes y los corazones oscurecidos y fragmentados y distraídos, se  hundieron más y más en el sufrimiento, sujeto a la ansiedad, las pasiones, y las elusiones egocéntricas. Al apartarse del camino que Dios les había puesto, se hizo más y más difícil de pensar en Él, de acordarse de Él, de confiar en Él, y de orar a Él.

Así que, aunque Dios impresiona sus características y su carácter en nosotros en nuestro bautismo, también encontramos que es trabajoso acordarnos de Dios durante el día y a veces incluso cuando estamos rezando.

La lectura del Antiguo Testamento del libro de Deuteronomio nos da buen consejo del Señor sobre cómo fortalecer la memoria espiritual. Le dice a su pueblo que debe estar atento y no olvidarse de las cosas que sus propios ojos han visto. Les exhorta que no deje que estas cosas se desaparecen de la memoria mientras tengan vida.

¿Cómo podemos hacer eso?

Tomar un poco de tiempo para recordar lo que tus ojos han visto. Acuérdate de la vez que Dios te ha sido presente o te ha ayudado a ti o a un ser querido. Ponte en ese momento. ¿Cómo era? ¿Qué pasaba? ¿Cómo te sentiste? ¿Dónde estuvo Dios presente? ¿Cómo era Dios para ti en ese momento?

Dile a Dios cuánto aprecias su presencia y sus acciones de tu parte. Quizá le puedes escribir una carta al Señor en tu diario. Luego escucha, para oír en tu corazón como Dios te responde. Pídele que te diga cómo es para Él estar allí para ti,  lo que desea para ti, lo que significas para Él. Pregúntale si hay algo en particular que quiere que sepas sobre esa experiencia de Su amor y Su presencia.

¡No te olvides lo que tus ojos han visto! Haz que sea un hábito esta práctica piadosa y llena tu mente y tu corazón con la memoria de cómo Dios te ha demostrado Su tierno interés.

Posted on

Have Patience With Me

Click here for Spanish version

“Have patience with me,” the servant asks of the King. “Have patience with me,” begs the sinner to the Lord. “Have patience with me,” says the child to her mother, as her mother kneels to sop up the puddle of milk from the floor. “Have patience with me,” I say reluctantly to the reflection in the mirror.
The forgiven servant, shown mercy by the King, refuses to extend that mercy, instead having a man indebted to him for a lesser sum, thrown into prison until he pays back what is owed. We see the dire consequences of being unable to offer another forgiveness, when that same servant is jailed by the King upon learning of his unmerciful behavior.
In a sense, the servant has imprisoned himself by his actions. Is this not what we do to ourselves when we are unable to let go of the debts against us? The hardest mercy to accept seems to be the one due to ourselves. This is especially true with regard to forgiving myself of my mothering mistakes. God has forgiven my parenting horrors and missteps, yet I struggle to do the same. I imprison myself in guilt and regret.
Jesus concludes this parable with a clear directive. We must forgive others “from your heart.” We are called to a personal metanoia – a spiritual change of heart. The Church offers the most remarkable opportunity to receive the King’s clemency through the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Contrition, the Catechism teaches, opens the penitent for “a radical reorientation of our whole life, a return, a conversion to God with all our heart.” A radical change to a merciful heart, once accepted and extended forward, is the key to our freedom from the jail of unforgiveness.

 

Dear Merciful Lord, fill my heart with the grace necessary to forgive as You forgive. Lord, I desire a radical reorientation of my heart that it may more closely resemble Yours.

Allison Gingras, founder www.ReconciledToYou.com (RTY); and host of A Seeking Heart on Breadbox Media weekdays 10 am ET. Allison created the “Words with” daily devotional App Series: Words with Jesus and Words with Mary. Allison offers retreats and talks on: Forgiveness; Works of Mercy; Trust and JOY!

Posted on

Have I Placed God First?

Click here for Spanish version

Being a Catholic Christian in the 21st century, even if through conversion, means I am always a bit confused by the rejection Jesus faces by the Israelites. Perhaps this confusion is especially directed at the Pharisees, the ones who, on paper, should have recognized Him with the most ease.

How could they have witnessed so many miracles, heard so many wise sermons, and yet still not believe? Surely, I would not be one of these. Surely, I would not have rejected Jesus.
But, being a Catholic Christian in the 21st century in the United States also means I am privy to so much sacramental grace. I am able to freely attend Mass on Sundays and on Holy Days of Obligation, and even daily Mass if I were to properly order my life. I can receive the Sacrament of Penance weekly if needed, even daily too. I am blessed to share in the Divine Life of the Holy Trinity whenever I receive Him and to have our relationship repaired each time I disturb it.

I have all of those sacramental graces, so much more than the Pharisees; and yet, have I placed God first in my heart? Have I done more than observe the law? Have I truly loved Him above all else, and in turn, also loved as He loves?

O God, open my eyes to the rejection I have given You in the deepest recesses of my heart. Grant me perfect contrition and all the graces to love as You love.

Amanda Torres is a Catholic convert, wife, and working mom from St Paul, MN. She is making great use of her Bachelor’s Degree in History and Anthropology as a Management Analyst for the State of Minnesota. When she is not busy trying to get her husband, her rambunctious 7 year-old, and toddler twins into Heaven she enjoys reading, writing, and drinking coffee with entirely too much creamer. Amanda blogs for catholicmom.com and also occasionally blogs at In Earthen Vessels: HoldThisTreasureInEarthenVessels.wordpress.com