The Wisdom of God / La Sabiduría de Dios

“O Wisdom of our God Most High, guiding creation with power and love: come to teach us the path of knowledge!” 

I never knew my maternal grandfather; he died a year and a half before I was born. But I have learned the stories about him: how he lied about his age so he could join a brother in coming to America; how he drove an ambulance in France for the U.S. Army during World War I; how he, just like the usual Greek stereotype, owned a “greasy spoon” restaurant; how he was an older man when he married the feisty Sicilian woman who was my grandmother. It’s a little funny how, my whole life, I’ve been asked, “So, you’re Greek?” and I’ve always said, “Why, yes, on my mother’s side.”

Yes, people make assumptions (for example, “Can anything good come from Nazareth?”) when they see that my last name is a Greek word (which means “fruit,” by the way). So I have to explain that I’m Polish on my father’s side, but I have no idea how a Polish family took a Greek word for their surname. I did know my grandfather on that side, perhaps the kindest and most generous man I’ve ever known. But he was also opinionated, opportunistic, and an alcoholic.

We can’t choose our ancestry, and yet it is very important in our lives because we are the culmination of it; it is the foundation of who we fundamentally are. Both Matthew and Luke use a genealogy of Jesus to show the importance of ancestry, especially how Jesus was the culmination of Old Testament prophecies and covenants, putting him in direct line with Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Judah and King David. 

No, we can’t choose our ancestors, but today’s Gospel shows that God can and does do that choosing. And for Jesus, as well as for us, that ancestry chosen by God contains both the faithful and the sinner. Judah, as the First Reading tells us, may have been destined for greatness, with kings as descendants; and he may have saved his brother Joseph from their other brothers’ wrath, but he also sold Joseph into slavery. Jesus is considered a descendant of David, but he’s also a descendant of Ahaz, the guy who wouldn’t listen to Isaiah about asking the Lord for a sign. And God, in his infinite wisdom, used them all to fulfill his plan. His promises to Abraham, Jacob, David, and even Ahaz, are fulfilled in the birth of Jesus, the Messiah.

I began this reflection with today’s “O antiphon,” the ancient exhortations the Church has used since the eighth century to accompany the Magnificat canticle of Evening Prayer from December 17-23. As the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops says on its website, the antiphons “are a magnificent theology that uses ancient biblical imagery drawn from the messianic hopes of the Old Testament to proclaim the coming Christ as the fulfillment not only of Old Testament hopes, but present ones as well.” And today, when we say Come, O Wisdom, we know that that Wisdom is Jesus Christ, our very Lord and Savior. Christmas is just a week away: Come, Lord Jesus, Come!

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“¡Oh Sabiduría de nuestro Dios Altísimo, que guías con poder y amor la creación: ven a enseñarnos el camino del conocimiento!”

Nunca conocí a mi abuelo materno; murió un año y medio antes de que yo naciera. Pero me han contado sobre su historia: como mintió de su edad para poder unirse a un hermano para venir a los Estados Unidos; cómo condujo una ambulancia en Francia para el ejército de los Estados Unidos durante la Primera Guerra Mundial; cómo él, al igual que el estereotipo griego habitual, era dueño de un restaurante de “cuchara grasienta”; cómo era un hombre mayor cuando se casó con la fuerte mujer siciliana que era mi abuela. Es un poco divertido cómo, toda mi vida, me han preguntado: “Entonces, ¿eres griego?” y siempre he dicho: “Pues sí, por parte de mi mamá”.

Sí, la gente hace suposiciones (por ejemplo, “¿Puede salir algo bueno de Nazaret?”) cuando ven que mi apellido es una palabra griega (que significa “fruto”). Así que tengo que explicar que soy polaco por parte de mi padre, pero no tengo idea de cómo una familia polaca tomó una palabra griega como apellido. Conocí a mi abuelo por ese lado, quizás el hombre más amable y generoso que he conocido. Pero también era obstinado, oportunista y alcohólico.

No podemos elegir nuestra ascendencia, y sin embargo es muy importante en nuestra vida porque somos la culminación de ella; es la base de lo que somos fundamentalmente. Tanto Mateo como Lucas usan una genealogía de Jesús para mostrar la importancia de la ascendencia, especialmente cómo Jesús fue la culminación de las profecías y pactos del Antiguo Testamento, poniéndolo en línea directa con Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Judá y el rey David.

No, no podemos elegir a nuestros antepasados, pero el Evangelio de hoy muestra que Dios puede y hace esa elección. Y para Jesús, como para nosotros, esa estirpe escogida por Dios contiene tanto al fiel como al pecador. Judá, como nos dice la Primera Lectura, pudo haber estado destinado a la grandeza, con reyes como descendientes; y pudo haber salvado a su hermano José de la ira de sus otros hermanos, pero también vendió a José como esclavo. Jesús es considerado descendiente de David, pero también es descendiente de Acaz, el tipo que no escuchó a Isaías acerca de pedirle una señal al Señor. Y Dios, en su infinita sabiduría, se sirvió de todos ellos para cumplir su plan. Sus promesas a Abraham, Jacob, David e incluso Acaz se cumplen en el nacimiento de Jesús, el Mesías.

Comencé esta reflexión con la “O antífona” de hoy, las antiguas exhortaciones que la Iglesia ha utilizado desde el siglo VIII para acompañar el cántico Magnificat de la oración de la tarde del 17 al 23 de diciembre. Como dice la Conferencia de Obispos Católicos de Estados Unidos en su sitio web, las antífonas “son una teología magnífica que usa imágenes bíblicas antiguas extraídas de las esperanzas mesiánicas del Antiguo Testamento para proclamar la venida de Cristo como el cumplimiento no solo de las esperanzas del Antiguo Testamento, sino también del presente.” Y hoy, cuando decimos Ven, oh Sabiduría, sabemos que esa Sabiduría es Jesucristo, nuestro mismo Señor y Salvador. Falta una semana para la Navidad: ¡Ven, Señor Jesús, ven!

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Mike Karpus is a regular guy. He grew up in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, graduated from Michigan State University and works as an editor. He is married to a Catholic school principal, raised two daughters who became Catholic school teachers at points in their careers, and now relishes his two grandchildren, including the older one who is fascinated with learning about his faith. He also has served on a Catholic school board, a pastoral council and a parish stewardship committee. He currently is a lector at Mass, a Knight of Columbus, Adult Faith Formation Committee member and a board member of the local Habitat for Humanity organization. But mostly he’s a regular guy.

Feature Image Credit: GidonPico, pixabay.com/photos/dead-sea-caravan-camel-red-brown-1930735/

Whom Should I Fear? / ¿A Quién Debo Temer?

“The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom should I fear? The Lord is my life’s refuge; of whom should I be afraid?”

Friday of the first week of Advent, day six of the season, presents my favorite Psalm in the readings of the day. Advent this year gives us four full weeks — 28 days — to help us prepare for Jesus’ coming. Jesus our Lord comes at Christmas, but of course that actually happened 2,000 years ago. Jesus is coming again at the end of the world, as our faith tells us, but that day is known only to God. How can we prepare for that? It is that preparation that this day has me reflecting on — Jesus coming into each of our hearts. Are we preparing for this? Is the Lord truly our light and salvation? He is if we invite Him to be. In our weakness and sinful nature, we often have to invite him again and again, seeking his forgiveness, asking him to fill our hearts again. The great thing is, Jesus is always willing to give us that second and third and 65th chance, if we sincerely want Him in our lives and hearts.

“One thing I ask of the Lord; this I seek: To dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life.”

The prophet Isaiah tells us what it’s like when we accept the Lord into our hearts: The deaf hear, the blind see, the lowly find joy, the poor rejoice. When the Lord is our everything, we need nothing else. When we ask the Lord to let us dwell in His house, He is happy to oblige those who seek Him. If we err or find fault, we will be corrected and instructed. God is willing to do what it takes to get us to dwell in His house. We need to have the faith to trust in Him and let him guide us there. When we have faith, like the two blind men who encountered Jesus in today’s Gospel, we can encounter the Lord’s mercy and His healing touch. It is that very mercy that corrects, instructs, changes and heals us. Advent tells us plainly, “prepare for the mercy of God by inviting, by seeking the mercy of God.” Believe in the bounty of His love, His mercy, which he wants to show us forever in the land of living. Come, Lord Jesus into our lives, into our hearts. Jesus dwelling there is truly a reason to fear nothing.

“Wait for the Lord with courage; Be stouthearted, and wait for the Lord.”

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“El Señor es mi luz y mi salvación, ¿a quién voy a tenerle miedo? El Señor es la defensa de mi vida, ¿quién podrá hacerme temblar?

El viernes de la primera semana de Adviento, día sexto de la temporada, presenta mi Salmo favorito en las lecturas del día. El Adviento de este año nos da cuatro semanas completas, 28 días, para ayudarnos a prepararnos para la venida de Jesús. Jesús nuestro Señor viene en la Navidad, pero por supuesto eso sucedió hace 2000 años. Jesús viene de nuevo al final del mundo, como nos dice nuestra fe, pero ese día solo lo conoce Dios. ¿Cómo podemos prepararnos para eso? Es esa preparación en la que este día me hace reflexionar: Jesús entrando en cada uno de nuestros corazones. ¿Nos estamos preparando para esto? ¿Es el Señor verdaderamente nuestra luz y salvación? Lo es si lo invitamos a serlo. En nuestra debilidad y naturaleza pecaminosa, muchas veces tenemos que invitarlo una y otra vez, buscando su perdón, pidiéndole que vuelva a llenar nuestro corazón. Lo grandioso es que Jesús siempre está dispuesto a darnos esa segunda y tercera y 65a oportunidad, si lo queremos sinceramente en nuestras vidas y corazones.

“Lo único que pido, lo único que busco es vivir en la casa del Señor toda mi vida.”

El profeta Isaías nos dice cómo es cuando aceptamos al Señor en nuestro corazón: Los sordos oyen, los ciegos ven, los humildes encuentran alegría, los pobres se regocijan. Cuando el Señor es nuestro todo, no necesitamos nada más. Cuando le pedimos al Señor que nos permita habitar en Su casa, Él está feliz de complacer a aquellos que lo buscan. Si nos equivocamos o encontramos fallas, seremos corregidos e instruidos. Dios está dispuesto a hacer lo que sea necesario para que habitemos en Su casa. Tenemos que tener la fe para confiar en Él y dejar que nos guíe. Cuando tenemos fe, como los dos ciegos que se encontraron con Jesús en el evangelio de hoy, podemos encontrar la misericordia del Señor y su toque sanador. Es esa misma misericordia la que nos corrige, instruye, cambia y sana. El Adviento nos dice claramente, “prepárense para la misericordia de Dios invitando, buscando la misericordia de Dios”. Cree en la generosidad de Su amor, Su misericordia, que quiere mostrarnos para siempre en la tierra de los vivientes. Ven, Señor Jesús, a nuestras vidas, a nuestros corazones. Jesús morando allí es verdaderamente una razón para no temer nada.

“La bondad del Señor espero ver en esta misma vida. Armate de valor y fortaleza y en el Señor confía.”

Comunicarse con el autor

Mike Karpus is a regular guy. He grew up in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, graduated from Michigan State University and works as an editor. He is married to a Catholic school principal, raised two daughters who became Catholic school teachers at points in their careers, and now relishes his two grandchildren, including the older one who is fascinated with learning about his faith. He also has served on a Catholic school board, a pastoral council and a parish stewardship committee. He currently is a lector at Mass, a Knight of Columbus, Adult Faith Formation Committee member and a board member of the local Habitat for Humanity organization. But mostly he’s a regular guy.

Feature Image Credit: StockSnap, https://pixabay.com/photos/wall-rosary-prayer-cross-catholic-2568370/

The End Is The Beginning / El Final es el Inicio

We’ve come to that point in time, the penultimate (second to last) Sunday of the Liturgical Year, when our readings for the day are all about the end of time. Death, destruction, doom and gloom . It might seem quite depressing at first glance, but the message is filled with hope.

I think the interesting thing with the readings this year is not what is said, but what is being addressed. The First Reading, from the prophet Malachi, is addressing the people’s complaint that people who aren’t serving God seem to be prospering, so why serve God at all if it doesn’t seem to matter? Malachi is very clear in his response: “Lo, the day is coming, blazing like an oven, when all the proud and all evildoers will be stubble, and the day that is coming will set them on fire.” But for those who obey the Lord, “there will arise the sun of justice with its healing rays.” Moral of the story: God will prevail, but in God’s time, not ours.

Then St. Paul must deal with the Thessalonian church, where the faithful have been expecting Jesus to return at any time. When that doesn’t happen, their commitment to living as Christians starts to falter. Paul won’t have it. “You know how one must imitate us,” he starts out, later advising, “we wanted to present ourselves as a model for you, so that you might imitate us.” Paul is not being arrogant, merely reminding these people that he has toiled to spread the Gospel and live in it, and they should, too. Keep busy in that, he says, and stop being busy bodies.

Jesus himself also covers Paul’s line of thinking. You don’t know when the coming of the Lord is going to happen, and people are going to try to exploit that. In fact, history tells us it has happened in every age, and continues today. “See that you not be deceived,” our Lord tells his disciples, and us. Don’t be terrified by current events, because they’re going to happen. And even worse things will, too. There will be persecution of the faithful. As harsh as that seems, it is and will be true. But Jesus reminds us, good will come of it: “It will lead to your giving testimony.” Trials and tribulations are our opportunity to spread the good news that Jesus came to give us. He himself “shall give you wisdom in speaking that all your adversaries will be powerless to resist or refute.”

And yes, some of us will be put to death, or hated by all because of our faith in Jesus. But that end is, in fact, the beginning of an everlasting life in the presence of God and all his glory. “By your perseverance you will secure your lives,” Jesus says, reminding us that life on this Earth is temporary. Develop your faith, keep the faith, live the faith, die in faith. The good stuff — the very glory of God — awaits us in heaven, glory and joy we can’t even imagine. Hope in the Lord and trust in His ways!

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Hemos llegado a ese punto en el tiempo, el penúltimo domingo del año litúrgico, cuando nuestras lecturas del día se tratan del fin de los tiempos. Muerte, destrucción, fatalidad y pesimismo. Puede parecer bastante deprimente a primera vista, pero el mensaje está lleno de esperanza.

Creo que lo interesante de las lecturas de este año no es lo que se dice, sino lo que se aborda. La Primera Lectura, del profeta Malaquías, aborda la queja de la gente de que las personas que no están sirviendo a Dios parecen estar prosperando, entonces, ¿por qué servir a Dios si no parece importar? Malaquías es muy claro en su respuesta: “Ya viene el día del Señor, ardiente como un horno, y todos los soberbios y malvados serán como la paja. El día que viene los consumirá”. Pero para los que obedecen al Señor, “brillará el sol de justicia, que les traerá la salvación en sus rayos”. Moraleja de la historia: Dios prevalecerá, pero en el tiempo de Dios, no en el nuestro.

Luego, San Pablo tiene que tratar con la iglesia de Tesalónica, donde los fieles han estado esperando que Jesús regrese en cualquier momento. Cuando eso no sucede, su compromiso de vivir como cristianos comienza a flaquear. Paul no lo acepta. “Ya saben cómo deben vivir para imitar mi ejemplo”, comienza, y luego les dice que ha vivido de esa forma, “para darles un ejemplo que imitar”. Pablo no está siendo arrogante, simplemente les recuerda a estas personas que él se ha esforzado para difundir el Evangelio y vivir en él, y que ellos también deberían hacerlo. Manténganse ocupados en eso, dice, y dejen de ser cuerpos ocupados.

Jesús mismo también cubre la línea de pensamiento de Pablo. No sabes cuándo ocurrirá la venida del Señor, y la gente tratará de explotar eso. De hecho, la historia nos dice que ha sucedido en todas las épocas y continúa hoy. “Cuídense de que nadie los engañe,” dice nuestro Señor a sus discípulos y a nosotros. No te asustes por los acontecimientos actuales, porque van a suceder. Y cosas aún peores también lo harán. Habrá persecución de los fieles. Tan duro como parece, es y será cierto. Pero Jesús nos recuerda que de ello saldrá bien: “Con esto darán testimonio de mí.”  Las pruebas y tribulaciones son nuestra oportunidad de difundir las buenas nuevas que Jesús vino a darnos. Él mismo dice, “porque yo les daré palabras sabias, a las que no podrá resistir ni contradecir ningún adversario de ustedes.”

Y sí, algunos de nosotros seremos condenados a muerte, u odiados por todos debido a nuestra fe en Jesús. Pero ese final es, de hecho, el comienzo de una vida eterna en la presencia de Dios y de toda su gloria. “Si se mantienen firmes, conseguirán la vida”, dice Jesús, recordándonos que la vida en esta Tierra es temporal. Desarrollen su fe, mantengan la fe, vivan la fe, mueran en la fe. Lo bueno es que la gloria misma de Dios nos espera en el cielo, gloria y gozo que ni siquiera podemos imaginar. ¡Espera en el Señor y confía en sus caminos!

Comunicarse con el autor

Mike Karpus is a regular guy. He grew up in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, graduated from Michigan State University and works as an editor. He is married to a Catholic school principal, raised two daughters who became Catholic school teachers at points in their careers, and now relishes his two grandchildren, including the older one who is fascinated with learning about his faith. He also has served on a Catholic school board, a pastoral council and a parish stewardship committee. He currently is a lector at Mass, a Knight of Columbus, Adult Faith Formation Committee member and a board member of the local Habitat for Humanity organization. But mostly he’s a regular guy.

Feature Image Credit: geralt, pixabay.com/photos/heaven-clouds-cloud-shape-3335585/

Start Small / Empezando Pequeño

Modern society would have us declare today is Halloween. Costumes, jack o’ lanterns, trick-or-treating, candy. Our Catholic faith, on the other hand, would instead remind us that today is All Hallows Eve, the day before All Saints Day. The Church established All Saints Day to get people’s minds focused away from the minor debauchery and pagan rituals that continue today as Halloween celebrations, and instead focus on something greater and more pure — the men and women, known and unknown, who have been found worthy by God to spend eternity with Him in heaven.

All Saints Day reminds us of our very reason for being and our ultimate goal — to know, love and serve God in this life so we can be with Him in the next. We are called to be saints, plain and simple. But how do we do it? First off, we know we are saved, not by anything we could ever do, but by the sacrificial death and resurrection of our Lord, Jesus Christ. Having that faith in Jesus is more than just announcing our belief and waiting for our ticket to heaven. Our Lord made it perfectly clear in his teachings that faith is participatory. Not only are we to believe, but we are to share it with others by the way we live, love and serve. Remember that “whatever you did to the least of my brothers, you did to me”? That’s straight from Jesus himself. The mandate to love and serve comes right from the top.

Once again, how do we do it? Today’s readings give us a little push in the right direction. Step one: believe. Step two: shrink. Paul explains it to the Philippians: “… humbly regard others as more important than yourselves, each looking out not for his own interests, but also everyone for those of others.”

Ah, of course, humility. Jesus puts it this way in the Gospel today, taken from Luke: “… when you hold a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind; blessed indeed will you be because of their inability to repay you.” Jesus would have us humble ourselves into serving the less fortunate and the outcast. The reward awaits in the heaven we strive to reach.

The Psalm response tells us why we should start small, in humility, on our journey toward God. “In you, O Lord, I have found my peace.” Think of all the saints we do know. Their common trait is their humility, that God is in charge, and they are merely his servants. They testify to the peace and joy we can only find in the Lord, and they did so despite trials, suffering, even martyrdom. May we also find our peace in our reliance on the Lord.

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La sociedad moderna nos declara que hoy es Halloween. Disfraces, calabazas, ir casa por casa a pedir dulces. Nuestra fe católica, por otro lado, nos recuerda que hoy es la víspera de Todos los Santos, el día anterior al Día de Todos los Santos. La Iglesia estableció el Día de Todos los Santos para que las mentes de las personas se alejen del libertinaje y los rituales paganos que continúan hoy en día como celebraciones de Halloween, y en su lugar se concentren en algo más grande y más puro: los hombres y mujeres, conocidos y desconocidos, que Dios ha encontrado digno para pasar la eternidad con Él en el cielo.

El Día de Todos los Santos nos recuerda nuestra verdadera razón de ser y nuestro objetivo final: conocer, amar y servir a Dios en esta vida para poder estar con Él en la próxima. La verdad sencilla es, somos llamados a ser santos. Pero, ¿cómo lo hacemos? En primer lugar, sabemos que somos salvos, no por nada que pudiéramos hacer, sino por la muerte sacrificial y la resurrección de nuestro Señor Jesucristo. Tener esa fe en Jesús es más que simplemente anunciar nuestra creencia y esperar nuestro boleto al cielo. Nuestro Señor dejó perfectamente claro en sus enseñanzas que la fe es participativa. No solo debemos creer, sino que debemos compartirlo con los demás por la forma en que vivimos, amamos y servimos. ¿Recuerdas que “cuanto hicisteis al más pequeño de mis hermanos, a mí me lo hicisteis”? Eso viene directamente del mismo Jesús. El mandato de amar y servir viene desde arriba.

Una vez más, ¿cómo lo hacemos? Las lecturas de hoy nos dan un pequeño empujón en la dirección correcta. Primer paso: creer. Paso dos: hacernos menos. Pablo lo explica a los filipenses: “…por humildad, cada uno considere a los demás como superiores a sí mismo y no busque su propio interés, sino el del prójimo”.

Ah, por supuesto, la humildad. Jesús lo expresa así en el Evangelio de hoy, tomado de Lucas: “… Cuando des una comida o una cena, no invites a tus amigos, ni a tus hermanos, ni a tus parientes, ni a los vecinos ricos; porque puede ser que ellos te inviten a su vez, y con eso quedarías recompensado.” Jesús quiere que nos humillemos para servir a los menos afortunados y marginados. La recompensa aguarda en el cielo que nos esforzamos por alcanzar.

El Salmo Responsorial nos dice por qué debemos comenzar de a poco, en humildad, en nuestro camino hacia Dios. “Dame, Señor, la paz junto a ti”. Piensa en todos los santos que conocemos. Su rasgo común es su humildad, que Dios está a cargo, y ellos son simplemente sus sirvientes. Dan testimonio de la paz y el gozo que sólo podemos encontrar en el Señor, y lo hicieron a pesar de las pruebas, el sufrimiento e incluso el martirio. Que también encontremos nuestra paz confiando en el Señor.

Comunicarse con el autor

Mike Karpus is a regular guy. He grew up in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, graduated from Michigan State University and works as an editor. He is married to a Catholic school principal, raised two daughters who became Catholic school teachers at points in their careers, and now relishes his two grandchildren, including the older one who is fascinated with learning about his faith. He also has served on a Catholic school board, a pastoral council and a parish stewardship committee. He currently is a lector at Mass, a Knight of Columbus, Adult Faith Formation Committee member and a board member of the local Habitat for Humanity organization. But mostly he’s a regular guy.

Feature Image Credit: Ben White, unsplash.com/photos/qYanN54gIrI

Chosen to Be His Own / Elegido Como Suyo

I think we human beings don’t always acknowledge the effects that everyday life has on us. Some of those effects we’re good at recognizing: I’m exhausted, I’m frustrated, I’m pleasantly surprised. Other things, maybe we realize, but we don’t want to admit: I forgot. Didn’t I ask you to take out the garbage? What did I do with the shopping list? Your party was tonight?

When we tell our kids to do something or to remember something, does it frustrate or upset us when they forget? Yet we’re out here in the world forgetting all kinds of things. Let’s face it, they’re just like us. The trouble is, this forgetting, letting life get in the way, extends far beyond such mundane things as a full trash can. We also forget the big stuff — the really big stuff. Today’s readings discuss that really big stuff.

Paul shares with the Ephesians, and us, the biggest stuff of all. Just before our reading starts, Paul reminds his readers that Jesus suffered and died for us. He ransomed our very lives with His life. Then our reading kicks in: not only that, we were also chosen by God, in Christ, to be His people. Then, in our baptism, he gave us the Holy Spirit. Paul calls that glorious gift to help us in our faith a mere down payment. Stick it out, folks, stay faithful, and it’s going to be unimaginably better.

Jesus also has something to remind us: God loved us and always loves us, but we have to uphold our part of the bargain, too. Don’t go acting the pious follower, like a Pharisee, while doing something else when out of the public eye. Do we forget God’s power along with his love? If we’re doing something in private, God knows. If we’re saying something in secret, God knows.

And despite knowing every one of us is going to die, we act like not us, or at least not anytime soon. Other times, we don’t think about death because it frightens us. Don’t be afraid of death, Jesus reminds us, because that’s hardly the worst of our troubles. Losing our immortal soul, losing communion with God in heaven, that’s what we need to be concerned about.

And another thing Jesus has to remind us about: We matter to God. He knows the number of hairs on our heads. He loves us that much! We are His people because God wants us to be His people. He forgives us our sins because He wants us to be in right relationship with Him. We have to do our part, with our faith and love and service, but the promise is there before us.

God loves us. God chooses us. God wants us to be with Him. What else matters? But how often do we forget how important that is? Let’s spend today keeping that in focus, keeping it foremost in our minds. And acting accordingly. And also, don’t forget to take out the garbage.

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Creo que como seres humanos no siempre reconocemos los efectos que la vida cotidiana tiene sobre nosotros. Algunos de esos efectos los reconocemos bien: estoy agotado, estoy frustrado, estoy gratamente sorprendido. Otras cosas, tal vez nos demos cuenta, pero no queremos admitir: se me olvidó. ¿No te pedí que sacaras la basura? ¿Qué hice con la lista de compras? ¿Tu fiesta fue esta noche?

Cuando les decimos a nuestros hijos que hagan algo o que recuerden algo, ¿nos frustra o nos molesta que se les olvide? Sin embargo, estamos aquí en el mundo olvidando todo tipo de cosas. Seamos realistas, son como nosotros. El problema es que este olvido, dejar que la vida se interponga en el camino, se extiende mucho más allá de cosas tan mundanas como un bote de basura lleno. También nos olvidamos de las cosas importantes, las cosas realmente importantes. Las lecturas de hoy discuten cosas realmente importantes.

Pablo comparte con los Efesios, y con nosotros, lo más importante de todo. Justo antes de que comience esta lectura, Pablo les recuerda a sus lectores que Jesús sufrió y murió por nosotros. Él rescató nuestras propias vidas con la Suya. Después entra en acción la lectura de hoy: no solo eso, también fuimos escogidos por Dios, en Cristo, para ser Su pueblo. Luego, en nuestro bautismo, nos dio el Espíritu Santo. Pablo llama a ese regalo glorioso para ayudarnos en nuestra fe un mero pago inicial. Manténganse firmes, amigos, manténganse fieles, y será inimaginablemente mejor.

Jesús también tiene algo que recordarnos: Dios nos amó y siempre nos ama, pero también tenemos que cumplir con nuestra parte del trato. No actúes como un seguidor piadoso, como un fariseo, mientras haces otra cosa cuando no estás a la vista del público. ¿Olvidamos el poder de Dios junto con su amor? Si estamos haciendo algo en privado, Dios lo sabe. Si estamos diciendo algo en secreto, Dios lo sabe.

Y a pesar de saber que todos vamos a morir, actuamos como si no fuéramos nosotros, o al menos no pronto. Otras veces, no pensamos en la muerte porque nos asusta. No le temas a la muerte, nos recuerda Jesús, porque ese no es el peor de nuestros problemas. Perder nuestra alma inmortal, perder la comunión con Dios en el cielo, eso es lo que nos debe preocupar.

Y otra cosa que Jesús tiene que recordarnos: Le importamos a Dios. Él conoce el número de cabellos en nuestras cabezas. ¡Él nos ama tanto! Somos Su pueblo porque Dios quiere que seamos Su pueblo. Él nos perdona nuestros pecados porque quiere que tengamos una relación correcta con Él. Tenemos que hacer nuestra parte, con nuestra fe, amor y servicio, pero la promesa está ante nosotros.

Dios nos ama. Dios nos elige. Dios quiere que estemos con Él. ¿Qué más importa? Pero, ¿con qué frecuencia olvidamos lo importante que es eso? Dediquemos el día a mantener eso enfocado, manteniéndolo en primer lugar en nuestras mentes. Y actuando en consecuencia. Y por si acaso, no te olvides de sacar la basura.

Comunicarse con el autor

Mike Karpus is a regular guy. He grew up in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, graduated from Michigan State University and works as an editor. He is married to a Catholic school principal, raised two daughters who became Catholic school teachers at points in their careers, and now relishes his two grandchildren, including the older one who is fascinated with learning about his faith. He also has served on a Catholic school board, a pastoral council and a parish stewardship committee. He currently is a lector at Mass, a Knight of Columbus, Adult Faith Formation Committee member and a board member of the local Habitat for Humanity organization. But mostly he’s a regular guy.

Feature Image Credit: Mateus Campos Felipe, unsplash.com/photos/NbpxnOo0X-g

Our Place / Nuestro Lugar

I know a lot of people say this, but my dad was one of the smartest men I have ever known. I will go a step further — he was one of the wisest men I ever knew. When I was a kid monkeying around at the dinner table, he would put me in my place. I deserved it. And when my wife and I got married and my parents came to visit us, my dad shocked me, asking if he could sit in the recliner. At home, he always sat in the recliner. But he knew this was my home, not his. He knew his place, too. I wish he was still alive to sit in my recliner any time he wanted.

I share this because today’s readings are all about our place. Specifically, they’re all about how we see ourselves, where we are, in our relationship with God. In the First Reading, we are nearing the end of the book of Job. He has suffered much but refused to turn from his God. And when he gets that audience with the Lord, he begins to question what has been going on. But does God give him comforting words? Far from it. To paraphrase, God asks, almost sarcastically, “Hey, where were you, Job, when I created this? Did you help when I made that?”

Job is taken aback. Is this the response to expect from a loving God? Job rightfully replies, however, “I won’t say another word.” Because Job realizes, as should we, that this is God. God, who created everything, to whom everything belongs, has chosen to reveal himself to Job. He has everything, He can do anything, but He has chosen to be with Job, and with us. He has chosen to love us. Didn’t God, after all, originally bet on Job’s faithfulness? He is in our corner, but he isn’t some simple buddy. We have to remember he is God — God! — who has chosen to create us, care about us, love us. And send us His son.

This brings us to the Gospel. Jesus has done some amazing things in Bethsaida and Capernaum and Chorazin. Why, if Tyre and Sidon, two of the most sinful places in the Old Testament, had witnessed these things, they would have repented immediately. Jesus is speaking to us here. We have seen what he did. We have heard it preached and read about it in the Gospels. What does it mean to us? How do we react? Do we repent and believe in the Gospel? Do we become disciples and try to live as Jesus wants us to live? What is our place in relationship to this Lord and Savior, and the One who sent Him?

Let’s contemplate that today. Do I know my place when it comes to God, when it comes to Jesus? Is it the right place? Do I treat our Lord as some great vending machine, “gimme this, gimme that”, or do I give him the love, the praise, and the worship deserving of the Lord of the universe, who is all good and deserving of all our love. Our Savior Jesus Christ suffered and died for us. In his name, my God, have mercy. 

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Sé que mucha gente dice esto, pero mi papá fue uno de los hombres más inteligentes que he conocido. Iré un paso más allá: fue uno de los hombres más sabios que he conocido. Cuando yo era niño haciendo el tonto en la mesa, él me ponía en mi lugar. Me lo merecía. Y cuando mi esposa y yo nos casamos y mis padres vinieron a visitarnos, mi papá me sorprendió cuando me preguntó si podía sentarse en el sillón reclinable. En casa, siempre se sentaba en el sillón reclinable. Pero él sabía que esta era mi casa, no la suya. Él también conocía su lugar. Quisiera que todavía estuviera vivo para sentarse en mi sillón reclinable cuando quisiera.

Comparto esto porque las lecturas de hoy son todas sobre nuestro lugar. Específicamente, se trata de cómo nos vemos a nosotros mismos, dónde estamos, en nuestra relación con Dios. En la Primera Lectura, nos acercamos al final del libro de Job. Ha sufrido mucho, pero se negó a apartarse de su Dios. Y cuando obtiene esa audiencia con el Señor, comienza a cuestionar lo que ha estado pasando. Pero, ¿le da Dios palabras de consuelo? Para nada. Parafraseando, Dios pregunta, casi con sarcasmo: “Oye, ¿dónde estabas, Job, cuando creé esto? ¿Me ayudaste cuando hice eso?

Job se sorprende. ¿Esta es la respuesta que se espera de un Dios amoroso? Sin embargo, Job responde correctamente: “No diré una palabra más”. Porque Job se da cuenta, al igual que nosotros, de que esto es Dios. Dios, que creó todo, a quien todo pertenece, ha elegido revelarse a Job. Él tiene todo, Él puede hacer cualquier cosa, pero ha elegido estar con Job y con nosotros. Él ha elegido amarnos. Después de todo, ¿no apostó Dios originalmente por la fidelidad de Job? Él está en nuestro rincón, pero no es un simple amigo. Tenemos que recordar que él es Dios, ¡Dios! que ha elegido crearnos, cuidarnos, amarnos, y envíanos a Su hijo.

Esto nos lleva al Evangelio. Jesús ha hecho algunas cosas asombrosas en Betsaida y Capernaum y Chorazin. Bueno, si Tiro y Sidón, dos de los lugares más pecaminosos del Antiguo Testamento, hubieran sido testigos de estas cosas, se habrían arrepentido inmediatamente. Jesús nos está hablando aquí. Hemos visto lo que hizo. Lo hemos oído predicar y lo hemos leído en los Evangelios. ¿Qué significa para nosotros? ¿Cómo reaccionamos? ¿Nos arrepentimos y creemos en el Evangelio? ¿Nos convertimos en discípulos y tratamos de vivir como Jesús quiere que vivamos? ¿Cuál es nuestro lugar en relación con este Señor y Salvador, y Aquel que lo envió?

Consideremos eso hoy. ¿Conozco mi lugar cuando se trata de Dios, cuando se trata de Jesús? ¿Es el lugar correcto? ¿Trato a nuestro Señor como una gran máquina expendedora, “dame esto, dame aquello”, o le doy el amor, la alabanza y la adoración que merece el Señor del universo, quien es todo bueno y merecedor de todo nuestro amor. Nuestro Salvador Jesucristo sufrió y murió por nosotros. En su nombre, Dios mío, ten piedad.

Comunicarse con el autor

Mike Karpus is a regular guy. He grew up in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, graduated from Michigan State University and works as an editor. He is married to a Catholic school principal, raised two daughters who became Catholic school teachers at points in their careers, and now relishes his two grandchildren, including the 3-year-old who teaches him what the colors of Father’s chasubles mean. He has served on a Catholic School board, a pastoral council and a parish stewardship committee. He currently is a lector at Mass, a Knight of Columbus, Adult Faith Formation Committee member and a board member of the local Habitat for Humanity organization. But mostly he’s a regular guy.

Feature Image Credit: Milada Vigerova, unsplash.com/photos/B3wTMszErQY

Up Close and Personal / Íntimamente

Luke tells us in today’s Gospel that Jesus journeyed to a city called Nain. A couple of interesting facts about Nain: The town is in Galilee, just a bit south of Nazareth, and it’s right next to another town called Shunem, which earned its biblical fame as the location where the prophet Elisha raised a boy from the dead in the Second Book of Kings, another of the many foreshadowings of the Savior that can be found in the Old Testament.

This very special miracle that Jesus performed, however, reveals a lot about our Lord and Savior. He journeyed to Nain, so He was not from there, and He didn’t necessarily know a single person there personally. Yet His reaction to the situation, coming across a funeral in progress, is a very personal reaction. He saw the dead man’s mother, a widow who now had no one, and “He was moved with pity for her,” even going so far as trying to comfort her. He stepped up and touched the coffin, doing so during a time when contact with a dead body rendered a person ritually unclean. But Jesus, who obviously wants a personal relationship with people — with us — knows it’s hard to be personal without that close contact, something we all know too well from the pandemic. Jesus ordered him to rise, and he sat up and started talking, and our Lord gave him back to his mother. Gave him to her — what a gift!

Folks, we are that dead young man. Dead because of sin, self-centeredness, materialism, addiction, indifference, any number of things. Jesus sees our troubles, He sees the anguish around us, He is moved with pity, and He wants to touch us, be with us, and have that up close and personal relationship with us. Jesus wants to heal us and then make a gift of us. He does it through Scripture, the sacraments, prayer and the teachings of the Church.

Who, we have to ask, are we a gift for? And how? We can easily discover those answers in St. Paul’s letter to the Corinthians. As Christians, we “are Christ’s Body, and individually parts of it.”

As members of that Body, we all have different abilities and different roles, but we are to use them as Christ did, out of love and service to others in a close, personal way. We’re not all missionaries or clergy or even people with theology degrees. But what we are is gifts from our Lord. Let us gladly and willfully accept that role, go out and be freely given to others.

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Lucas nos dice en el Evangelio de hoy que Jesús viajó a una ciudad llamada Naín. Un par de datos interesantes sobre Naín: el pueblo está en Galilea, un poco al sur de Nazaret, y está justo al lado de otro pueblo llamado Sunem, que ganó su fama bíblica como el lugar donde el profeta Eliseo resucitó a un niño de entre los muertos en el Segundo Libro de los Reyes, otro de los muchos presagios del Salvador que se pueden encontrar en el Antiguo Testamento.

Este milagro tan especial que realizó Jesús, sin embargo, revela mucho acerca de nuestro Señor y Salvador. Viajó a Naín, porque no era de allí, y seguro no conocía personalmente ni a una sola persona allí. Sin embargo, Su reacción ante la situación, al encontrarse con un funeral, es una reacción muy personal. Vio a la madre del muerto, una viuda que ya no tenía a nadie, y “se compadeció de ella”, llegando incluso a consolarla. Dio un paso adelante y tocó el ataúd, haciéndolo en un momento en que el contacto con un cadáver hacía a una persona ritualmente impura. Pero Jesús, quien obviamente quiere una relación cercana con las personas, con nosotros, sabe que es difícil ser personal sin ese contacto cercano, algo que todos sabemos muy bien por la pandemia. Jesús le ordenó que se levantara, y él se incorporó y comenzó a hablar, y nuestro Señor se lo devolvió a su madre. Se lo dio a ella, ¡qué regalo!

Amigos, somos ese joven muerto. Muerto por el pecado, el egocentrismo, el materialismo, la adicción, la indiferencia, cualquier cantidad de cosas. Jesús ve nuestros problemas, ve la angustia que nos rodea, se conmueve y quiere tocarnos, estar con nosotros y tener una relación cercana y personal con nosotros. Jesús quiere sanarnos y luego hacernos un regalo. Lo hace a través de la Escritura, los sacramentos, la oración y las enseñanzas de la Iglesia.

¿Debemos preguntarnos, para quién somos un regalo? ¿Y cómo? Podemos descubrir fácilmente esas respuestas en la carta de San Pablo a los Corintios. Como cristianos, “somos el Cuerpo de Cristo, e individualmente partes de él”. Como miembros de ese Cuerpo, todos tenemos diferentes habilidades y diferentes roles, pero debemos usarlos como lo hizo Cristo, por amor y servicio a los demás de manera cercana y personal. No todos somos misioneros o clérigos o incluso personas con títulos en teología. Pero sí somos regalos de nuestro Señor. Aceptemos gustosa y voluntariamente ese papel, salgamos y seamos entregados libremente a los demás.

Comunicarse con el autor

Mike Karpus is a regular guy. He grew up in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, graduated from Michigan State University and works as an editor. He is married to a Catholic school principal, raised two daughters who became Catholic school teachers at points in their careers, and now relishes his two grandchildren, including the 3-year-old who teaches him what the colors of Father’s chasubles mean. He has served on a Catholic School board, a pastoral council and a parish stewardship committee. He currently is a lector at Mass, a Knight of Columbus, Adult Faith Formation Committee member and a board member of the local Habitat for Humanity organization. But mostly he’s a regular guy.

Feature Image Credit: Jackson David, unsplash.com/photos/8qudl9pDZJ0

We Proclaim Christ Crucified / Proclamamos a Cristo Crucificado

My grandson, who is now 4 years old, likes to pretend he is a character from one of his books, movies or TV shows, and the rest of his family gets assigned roles, too. After spending a week in Florida, he was Mickey for the longest time, his mom was Minnie, his baby sister was assigned Pluto and Dad got to be Goofy. Sorry, Dad. 

Not too long ago, he was telling Grandma and me that he had been reading stories in his children’s Bible. “Dad makes a good Adam,” he told us over FaceTime. “Mom is Eve, and Marie is the snake.” Poor Marie. But what about you, Michael? “I am God.”

In his innocence, he instinctively seems to choose what he sees as the most important role for himself. Thus, in the Garden of Eden story, he went straight to the top. But the little guy is 4, and he is just playing make-believe — what about us? We are adults, or at least teens. We have life experience; we “know better.” But how often do we put ourselves first, choose ourselves over others, put ourselves in the place of God, decide we know better than God?

Paul wrote to the Corinthians nearly 2,000 years ago, but he just as easily could be talking about us in 2022. Back then, as now, people thought they had it all figured out. They thought they knew how things should be and how they were. Salvation through a savior who is violently killed in a criminal’s execution? There’s no way that could be, in so many people’s minds, then and now. “The message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing,” Paul observes, “but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.” Christ crucified is a stumbling block and foolishness to those who decide they know better than God himself, but “to those who are called … Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.” 

We are called. All of us. Every day. What do we do with that call? Do we answer it? I think we all like to think we are answering the call, but our Gospel today tells us it has to be more than that. Are we among the virgins who go out to meet our Lord well-prepared? You can go into any room full of people, and you can be pretty sure a majority there believe in God, and even if they don’t, even more will believe they are good people. The problem is we, as people, are not the best judges of how good we are. We’re much better at deciding our faults aren’t “that bad.” Or that God “doesn’t really care about that.” There we are, putting ourselves in the place of God, and when doing so, we’re going out to meet our Lord far from prepared. 

So what do we do? Jesus told us: repent and believe in the Gospel. We will fail, but we must start over, every day if necessary, every hour! And we must pray, pray always. Pray for grace, mercy, help to love and serve the Lord and our neighbors. We have been redeemed by a crucified and risen Savior. Believe it. Internalize it. Live it like nothing else matters.

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A mi nieto, que ahora tiene 4 años, le gusta fingir que es un personaje de uno de sus libros, películas o programas de televisión, y al resto de su familia también se le asignan roles. Después de pasar una semana en Florida, fue Mickey por mucho tiempo, su mamá era Minnie, su hermanita fue asignada a Pluto y papá fue Goofy. Lo siento, Papá.

No hace mucho, nos estaba contando a su abuela y a mí que había estado leyendo historias en la Biblia de niños. “Papá es un buen Adán”, nos dijo por FaceTime. “Mamá es Eva y Marie es la serpiente”. Pobre María. Pero, “¿y tú, Miguel? ¿tú quién eres?” “Yo soy Dios,” nos dijo.

En su inocencia, instintivamente parece elegir lo que considera el papel más importante para él. Así, en la historia del Jardín del Edén, escogió el más superior. Pero el pequeño tiene apenas 4 años y solo está jugando a la fantasía. ¿Qué hay de nosotros? Somos adultos, o al menos adolescentes. Tenemos experiencia de vida; nosotros “sabemos mejor”. Pero, ¿con qué frecuencia nos ponemos a nosotros mismos en primer lugar, nos elegimos sobre los demás, nos ponemos en el lugar de Dios, decidimos que sabemos más que Dios?

Pablo escribió a los corintios hace casi 2000 años, pero fácilmente podría estar hablando de nosotros en 2022. En aquel entonces, como ahora, la gente pensaba que lo tenía todo resuelto. Creían que sabían cómo debían ser las cosas y cómo eran. ¿La salvación a través de un salvador que es asesinado violentamente en la ejecución de un criminal? No hay forma de que pueda ser así, en la mente de tantas personas, entonces y ahora. “la predicación de la cruz es una locura para los que van por el camino de la perdición”, observa Pablo, “en cambio, para los que van por el camino de la salvación, para nosotros, es fuerza de Dios”. Cristo crucificado es piedra de tropiezo y locura para aquellos que deciden que saben más que Dios mismo, pero “para los llamados… Cristo es la fuerza y la sabiduría de Dios”.

Somos llamados. Todos nosotros. Todos los días. ¿Qué hacemos con esa llamada? ¿Le respondemos? Creo que a todos nos gusta pensar que estamos respondiendo al llamado, pero nuestro Evangelio de hoy nos dice que tiene que ser más que eso. ¿Estamos entre las vírgenes que salen bien preparadas al encuentro de nuestro Señor? Podrías entrar en cualquier habitación llena de gente y estar bastante seguro de que la mayoría cree en Dios, e incluso si no, aún más creerán que son buenas personas. El problema es que nosotros, como personas, no somos los mejores jueces de lo buenos que somos. Somos mucho mejores para decidir que nuestras fallas no son “tan malas”. O que a Dios “realmente no le importa eso”. Ahí estamos, poniéndonos en el lugar de Dios, y al hacerlo, estamos saliendo al encuentro de nuestro Señor lejos de estar preparados.

¿Asi que, que hacemos? Jesús nos dijo: arrepientense y creen en el Evangelio. Fracasaremos, pero empezamos de nuevo, todos los días, si es necesario, ¡cada hora! Y debemos orar, orar siempre. Oren por gracia, misericordia, ayuda para amar y servir al Señor y a nuestro prójimo. Hemos sido redimidos por un Salvador crucificado y resucitado. Créenlo. Interiorizenlo. Vívenlo como si nada más importara.

Comunicarse con el autor

Mike Karpus is a regular guy. He grew up in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, graduated from Michigan State University and works as an editor. He is married to a Catholic school principal, raised two daughters who became Catholic school teachers at points in their careers, and now relishes his two grandchildren, including the 3-year-old who teaches him what the colors of Father’s chasubles mean. He has served on a Catholic School board, a pastoral council and a parish stewardship committee. He currently is a lector at Mass, a Knight of Columbus, Adult Faith Formation Committee member and a board member of the local Habitat for Humanity organization. But mostly he’s a regular guy.

Feature Image Credit: Nicholas BL, www.cathopic.com/photo/10893-muerte-crucificado

All Glory Is His / Toda la Gloria es Suya

**This reflection is being posted for Aug 8th. Due to a technical issue, it did not post.**

There is a lot going on in today’s readings, from Ezekiel’s vision of the glory of God, to Jesus predicting his death — one of three times that happens in Matthew’s Gospel — to the miracle of the coin in the fish’s mouth. Then you also have the feast day of St. Dominic, founder of the Order of Preachers. Where does one focus? Where can you find the most meaning? Holy Spirit, will you help me, please?

We really have to begin with Ezekiel, because the lesson there is where I think we’ll end up by the end of this reflection. There are angels, there is a throne of sapphire, there is a rainbow-like background, and there is the Lord, appearing like fire and gleaming metal. If you read on in the book, you’ll see God shows this glory to Ezekiel before He sends him to be a prophet to Israel, even warning him that they won’t accept him, and worse. But Ezekiel goes despite these impossible odds. Such is the power of God’s glory.

Our Psalm reflects that glory, and it instructs us what to do about it: Praise the Lord! His name alone is exalted; His majesty is above, and beyond, earth and heaven!

Then, in Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus’ disciples are overwhelmed with grief when He tells them that He will be put to death. Did they not hear the part about rising on the third day? Maybe we can understand their reaction, since we know how hard it was for them to understand what “rising from the dead” meant before it actually happened. But Matthew moves quickly from this interaction to the question of the temple tax. Does Jesus pay it? Peter says yes, but we are left to wonder, was Peter lying? Was he covering for Jesus? It doesn’t really matter, because Jesus knows what’s up, and He brings it up to Peter with no prompting at all. Who gets taxed? The tax is levied on foreigners. Jesus is hinting to Peter and to us that we are foreigners not of this world, and we belong, or should belong, to a far greater kingdom, the one that appeared to Ezekiel in his vision.

Jesus performs the miracle of the coin in the fish’s mouth, as He says, “that we may not offend them.” In other words, let’s pay them their tax so such minor issues cannot impede them or us from knowing the truth that Jesus is the Messiah, that He came to Earth to be sacrificed for our wrongs, and that through His conquering death and resurrection, we, too, can participate in the glory of the Lord.

The path to eternal communion with our loving God is clear, then. Through the difficulties we encounter as Ezekiel did, through the mundane of everyday life like Peter was confronted with, in all things, our focus needs to be on the glory of God as our destination. Praise the Lord! Pray always. Be like St. Dominic and pray the rosary constantly. Put it all in the perspective that being with God in His glory is our only goal.

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Están sucediendo muchas cosas en las lecturas de hoy, desde la visión de Ezequiel de la gloria de Dios, hasta Jesús prediciendo su muerte, una de las tres veces que sucede en el Evangelio de Mateo, hasta el milagro de la moneda en la boca del pez. Luego hoy también es la fiesta de Santo Domingo, fundador de la Orden de Predicadores. ¿Dónde se enfoca uno? ¿Dónde puedes encontrar el mayor significado? Espíritu Santo, ¡ayúdame, por favor!

Realmente tenemos que comenzar con Ezequiel, porque la lección allí es donde creo que vamos a terminar al final de esta reflexión. Hay ángeles, hay un trono de zafiro, hay un fondo como un arco iris, y allí está el Señor, que aparece como fuego y metal reluciente. Si sigues leyendo, verás que Dios le muestra esta gloria a Ezequiel antes de enviarlo como profeta a Israel, incluso advirtiéndole que no lo aceptarán, y cosas peores. Pero Ezekiel va a pesar de estas probabilidades imposibles. Tal es el poder de la gloria de Dios.

Nuestro Salmo refleja esa gloria, y nos instruye qué hacer al respecto: ¡El nombre del Señor alaben todos, pues su nombre es excelso; su gloria sobrepasa cielo y tierra!

Luego, en el Evangelio de Mateo, los discípulos de Jesús se llenan de dolor cuando Él les dice que lo matarán. ¿No escucharon la parte acerca de resucitar al tercer día? Tal vez podamos entender su reacción, ya que sabemos lo difícil que fue para ellos entender lo que significaba “resucitar de entre los muertos” antes de que realmente sucediera. Pero Mateo pasa rápidamente de esta interacción a la cuestión del impuesto del templo. ¿Jesús lo paga? Peter dice que sí, pero nos quedamos preguntándonos, ¿Peter estaba mintiendo? ¿Estaba defendiendo a Jesús? Realmente no importa, porque Jesús sabe lo que pasa, y se lo cuenta a Pedro sin ninguna indicación. ¿Quién paga impuestos? El impuesto se aplica a los extranjeros. Jesús le está insinuando a Pedro y a nosotros que somos extranjeros, no de este mundo, y pertenecemos, o deberíamos pertenecer, a un reino mucho más grande, el que se le apareció a Ezequiel en su visión.

Jesús realiza el milagro de la moneda en la boca del pez, como dice, “para no darles motivo de escándalo”. En otras palabras, paguémosles su impuesto para que esos problemas menores no les impidan a ellos ni a nosotros conocer la verdad de que Jesús es el Mesías, que vino a la Tierra para ser sacrificado por nuestros errores, y que a través de Su muerte y resurrección vencedora nosotros también podemos participar en la gloria del Señor.

Entonces, el camino hacia la comunión eterna con nuestro Dios amoroso es claro. A través de las dificultades que encontramos como lo hizo Ezequiel, a través de lo mundano de la vida cotidiana como lo enfrentó Pedro, en todas las cosas, nuestro enfoque debe estar en la gloria de Dios como nuestro destino. ¡Alabado sea el Señor! Oren siempre. Sean como Santo Domingo y recen el rosario constantemente. Ponlo todo en la perspectiva de que estar con Dios en Su gloria es nuestra única meta.

Comunicarse con el autor

Mike Karpus is a regular guy. He grew up in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, graduated from Michigan State University and works as an editor. He is married to a Catholic school principal, raised two daughters who became Catholic school teachers at points in their careers, and now relishes his two grandchildren, including the 3-year-old who teaches him what the colors of Father’s chasubles mean. He has served on a Catholic School board, a pastoral council and a parish stewardship committee. He currently is a lector at Mass, a Knight of Columbus, Adult Faith Formation Committee member and a board member of the local Habitat for Humanity organization. But mostly he’s a regular guy.

Feature Image Credit: images.unsplash.com/photo-1526385092893-3c2356624514?ixlib=rb-1.2.1&ixid=MnwxMjA3fDB8MHxwaG90by1wYWdlfHx8fGVufDB8fHx8&auto=format&fit=crop&w=1068&q=80

Justice for the Gentiles / Justicia para los Gentiles

There is a long-lingering rumor, one I have never been able to confirm, that my father’s family has Jewish origins, and some ancestor back in time converted to Catholicism, possibly to avoid persecution, possibly to better gain acceptance from neighbors, possibly because of a true conversion of faith. That’s the trouble with family rumors — they only go so far, and you have to try to fill in the blanks yourself. Don’t even get me started on why my Sicilian ancestors had to leave Chicago back around 1920. That’s a story for another day.

Still, this bit of family history I’ve shared came to mind when reading today’s Gospel, where Matthew quotes a section of Isaiah that contains the word “Gentile” twice. Even for us who might have Jewish origins, those passages pertain to all of us Gentiles out here. Isaiah was telling his listeners that the suffering servant would “proclaim justice to the Gentiles,” as well as “in his name the Gentiles will hope.”

Matthew quotes the passage to specifically tell us: Jesus is that suffering servant. And He suffered not just for the Jews, but for the Gentiles, too — all of us get to share in His justice and the hope His name provides.

Truly believing in that justice and that hope changes everything for us. Take our First Reading, where the prophet Micah, paints a pretty gloomy picture: There are people out there planning evil, in Micah’s time and our own. “They covet fields, and seize them; houses, and they take them. They cheat an owner of his house, a man of his inheritance.” God is not ignoring this, Micah tells us. Rather, God is “planning against this race an evil from which you shall not withdraw your necks.”

Is it all evil and vengeance, Micah? Some actually might want that, as we hear the Psalmist say, “Why, O Lord, do you stand aloof? Why hide in times of distress?” Yet the Psalmist does seem to get it, as we are reminded in our last verse today, “On you the unfortunate man depends.”

Back we go to Matthew quoting Isaiah, where we get the answer to it all: “He will not contend or cry out, nor will anyone hear his voice in the streets. A bruised reed he will not break, a smoldering wick he will not quench, until he brings justice to victory.”

Jesus brings about the victory in His suffering, in His death on the cross, and His rising in triumph from the dead. To this day, we have a hard time grasping a conquering king dying by crucifixion instead of directing an army. But God’s ways are not our ways. Perhaps the evil Micah prophesied was not against the wicked, but the very type of death God chose for His son, a true sacrifice for us who did not deserve it, all out of His infinite love, mercy and justice. 

As the priest in my mother’s parish proclaims at every Mass, “God is good!” To which the congregation replies, “All the time!” Just a small portion of that infinite goodness is His justice and hope. May we Gentiles cling to them always.

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Existe un rumor desde hace mucho tiempo, uno que nunca he podido confirmar, que la familia de mi padre tiene orígenes judíos, y algún familiar en algún momento se convirtió al catolicismo, posiblemente para evitar la persecución o para ganarse la aceptación de los vecinos, o porque verdaderamente se convirtió a la fe. Eso es el problema con los rumores familiares: solo llegan hasta cierto punto y uno tiene que tratar de llenar la información que falta por sí mismo. Ni siquiera voy a hablar del por qué mis antepasados ​​​​sicilianos tuvieron que salirse de Chicago alrededor de 1920. Esa es una historia para otro día.

Aún así, esta parte de la historia familiar que he compartido me vino a la mente al leer el Evangelio de hoy, donde Mateo cita una sección de Isaías que contiene la palabra “gentil” dos veces. Incluso para nosotros que podríamos tener orígenes judíos, esos pasajes pertenecen a todos los gentiles que estamos aquí. Isaías estaba diciendo a sus oyentes que el siervo sufriente “proclamaría justicia a los gentiles”, así como “en su nombre esperarán los gentiles”.

Mateo cita el pasaje para decirnos específicamente: Jesús es ese siervo sufriente. Y Él sufrió no solo por los judíos, sino también por los gentiles: todos nosotros podemos compartir Su justicia y la esperanza que brinda Su nombre.

Creer de verdad en esa justicia y esa esperanza nos lo cambia todo. Toma nuestra Primera Lectura, donde el profeta Miqueas, pinta un cuadro bastante sombrío: Hay gente por ahí planeando el mal, en el tiempo de Miqueas y en el nuestro. “Codician los campos, y se apoderan de ellos; casas, y se las llevan. Estafan al dueño de su casa, al hombre de su heredad.” Dios no está ignorando esto, nos dice Miqueas. Más bien, Dios está “planeando contra esta raza un mal del cual no retirarán sus cuellos”.

¿Todo es maldad y venganza, Micah? Algunos en realidad podrían querer eso, como escuchamos al salmista decir: “¿Por qué, oh Señor, te mantienes apartado? ¿Por qué esconderse en tiempos de angustia?” Sin embargo, el salmista parece entenderlo, como se nos recuerda en nuestro último versículo de hoy: “De ti depende el desgraciado”.

Volvemos a Mateo citando a Isaías, donde encontramos la respuesta para todo: “Él no contenderá ni clamará, ni nadie oirá su voz en las calles. No quebrará la caña cascada, ni apagará la mecha que humea, hasta que haga triunfar la justicia”.

Jesús produce la victoria en Su sufrimiento, en Su muerte en la cruz y Su resurrección triunfante de entre los muertos. Hasta el día de hoy, nos cuesta entender a un rey conquistador muriendo crucificado en lugar de estar dirigiendo a un ejército. Pero los caminos de Dios no son los nuestros. Quizás el mal profetizado por Miqueas no era contra los malvados, sino el mismo tipo de muerte que Dios escogió para Su hijo, un verdadero sacrificio para nosotros que no lo merecíamos, todo por Su infinito amor, misericordia y justicia.

Como proclama el Padre en cada Misa en la parroquia de mi mamá , “¡Dios es bueno!” Y la congregación responde: “¡Todo el tiempo!” Sólo una pequeña porción de esta bondad infinita es Su justicia y esperanza. Que los gentiles nos aferremos siempre a Él y su bondad.

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Mike Karpus is a regular guy. He grew up in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, graduated from Michigan State University and works as an editor. He is married to a Catholic school principal, raised two daughters who became Catholic school teachers at points in their careers, and now relishes his two grandchildren, including the 3-year-old who teaches him what the colors of Father’s chasubles mean. He has served on a Catholic School board, a pastoral council and a parish stewardship committee. He currently is a lector at Mass, a Knight of Columbus, Adult Faith Formation Committee member and a board member of the local Habitat for Humanity organization. But mostly he’s a regular guy.

Feature Image Credit: Vanesa Guerrero, rpm, www.cathopic.com/photo/2174-pasion-cristo-

Beyond Mammon

You will remember that just a few days ago, the Gospel for June 18 gave us that famous line from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, “You cannot serve God and mammon.” (Mt 6:24) It’s an easily understood concept. To put it in a more modern vernacular, “How can you expect to ‘get God’ if you’re busy trying to ‘get stuff’?”

Here we are, 2,000 years later, and the world basically runs on the accumulation of “stuff.” We invent stuff, develop stuff, manufacture stuff, grow stuff, buy stuff, sell stuff, collect stuff, service stuff, and dispose of stuff. Cars, electronics, household goods, food, baseball cards, stocks and bonds, money — it’s all stuff, and the emphasis on acquiring it is getting in the way of what we’re really here for: to know, love and serve God in this world so that we can be with him in the next.

The Church in its wisdom ups the ante with today’s Gospel, where Luke tells us about Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem, where he will suffer, die and rise — all for us, by the way. It’s not the simple “God or stuff” dichotomy. These are real “punch in the stomach” examples today.

When Jesus tells someone, “Follow me,” the reply is “Lord, let me go first and bury my father.” The Lord’s reply is blunt: “Let the dead bury their dead. But you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.”

Another person thinks he has it figured out: “I will follow you Lord, but first let me say farewell to my family at home.” See, Jesus? I’m leaving them behind for you. Again, Jesus pushes for more: “No one who sets a hand to the plow and looks to what was left behind is fit for the kingdom of God.”

Even in requests that seem reasonable to us, Jesus sees the truth. And that truth is this: God first. Always, always, God first. There can be no compromise. Look at it this way: Your father died and must be buried. What if, in your love for and belief in God, you commend your father to God’s mercy, you pray for his soul, you realize that God created him, gave him his life, and knew the moment when it had to end. You thank God for what your father taught you, and you ask God for mercy for yourself, as well. 

What if, instead of saying goodbye to your family before following Jesus, you bring your family with you? You teach them of God’s greatness, His love, mercy and justice, His only begotten Son who became man, taught us, healed us, suffered for us, died for us, rose again, gave His very self to us in the Eucharist. What if you prayed for them, and asked God to help you guide them to communion with Him?

That plow Jesus talks about is the course of your life. If you’re looking back to what was, you’re going to have a pretty crooked row. If you keep your focus up front — on God, your life’s goal — putting Him first and foremost, the plowing might not be any easier, but it will be heading in the only right direction — straight to God, your ultimate joy.

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Mike Karpus is a regular guy. He grew up in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, graduated from Michigan State University and works as an editor. He is married to a Catholic school principal, raised two daughters who became Catholic school teachers at points in their careers, and now relishes his two grandchildren, including the 3-year-old who teaches him what the colors of Father’s chasubles mean. He has served on a Catholic School board, a pastoral council and a parish stewardship committee. He currently is a lector at Mass, a Knight of Columbus, Adult Faith Formation Committee member and a board member of the local Habitat for Humanity organization. But mostly he’s a regular guy.

Feature Image Credit: Mehmet Turgut Kirkgoz, unsplash.com/photos/CXY93X0CwDs

Give It to Them Straight

Jesus is particularly clear in today’s Gospel from Matthew, a selection from his Sermon on the Mount: Speak the truth.

Let your ‘Yes’ mean ‘Yes,’ and your ‘No’ mean ‘No.’ Anything more is from the evil one.” There are any number of euphemisms for that directive: Say what you mean and mean what you say. Give it to them straight. Tell it like it is. Don’t lie. 

It comes down to being a person of integrity, a true follower of Christ. If you always tell the truth, you can never be questioned. Now, Jesus’ directive isn’t “Always give an answer whether they like it or not.” Think of Pilate’s question of Jesus on Good Friday: “Are you the king of the Jews?” Our Lord replied not with a “yes” where he meant “yes,” but with a question of his own: “Do you say this on your own or have others told you about me?”

The point of saying what you mean and meaning what you say is, as Jesus tells Pilate a little later, to “testify to the truth.” Swearing by heaven, earth, Jerusalem or our very head is worthless on our part: God is in charge, and we have no right to make Him our witness. On the contrary, it is our job to be witnesses for Him. 

This is a good point to bring in our saint of the day, Barnabas. Originally named Joseph, he made quite an impression by selling property and putting the proceeds at the feet of the Apostles for the needs of the new Christian community. The gift earned him his new name, “Barnabas, or “son of encouragement.”

Even more important to the new Church was Barnabas letting his “yes” mean yes” and his “no” mean “no.” He risked his own integrity by bringing Saul — Paul, the future Apostle to the Gentiles — to them and vouching for this former persecutor of Christians as being trustworthy and converted to the Gospel message. Barnabas then mentored Paul and together they spread the Gospel to Antioch and beyond. Barnabas proved a follower of the truth, a witness for God’s own Son, and for God’s plan for the world. 

Let us pray that we, too, can be better followers of the truth, better witnesses for God and his plan for salvation, better instruments for building the kingdom of heaven here among us. May we ourselves be sons and daughters of encouragement, aiding our fellow Christians in their faith in our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Contact the author

Mike Karpus is a regular guy. He grew up in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, graduated from Michigan State University and works as an editor. He is married to a Catholic school principal, raised two daughters who became Catholic school teachers at points in their careers, and now relishes his two grandchildren, including the 3-year-old who teaches him what the colors of Father’s chasubles mean. He has served on a Catholic School board, a pastoral council and a parish stewardship committee. He currently is a lector at Mass, a Knight of Columbus, Adult Faith Formation Committee member and a board member of the local Habitat for Humanity organization. But mostly he’s a regular guy.

Feature Image Credit: Michael Carruth, unsplash.com/photos/m_tnGfoHeko