Leaving the World Behind / Dejando el mundo atrĂ¡s

Jesus tells us in today’s Gospel reading that we must renounce all possessions to be His disciples, and that we must hate father, mother, wife, children, brothers, sisters, and our own lives to follow Him. This seems drastic, and it is. Knowing that His message requires great effort and trust, Jesus asks His listeners to consider the cost: “Which of you wishing to construct a tower does not first sit down and calculate the cost to see if there is enough for its completion?” Have we considered the cost of discipleship?

On other occasions, Jesus lists the benefits of discipleship, for example during the Sermon on the Mount, as He goes through the Beatitudes. But today He extends a different invitation, an invitation to consider the costs. And just as the benefits are great, so are the costs. Jesus details the experience of the citizens of the Kingdom. They will have to give up a great deal to be a part of this Kingdom.

What does it mean to renounce our possessions, to hate our families, to hate our lives? Let’s consider the cost. When we choose to follow Jesus intentionally, wholeheartedly, comprehensively, we find that there are not many others who are willing to do the same, including many of our friends and family members. And we have to distance ourselves from what is holding us back from remaining in Christ. There are so many things in our lives that we carry with us without realizing it — even apparently neutral possessions and relationships can serve to distract us from the Kingdom. Ultimately, we will want to die to the world and live with Christ forever.

When we make this commitment and truly live it, those who have not done so will not understand. They will ask us questions, make passive-aggressive comments, and maybe throw accusations at us. Some will call themselves faithful but will have glaring inconsistencies between their beliefs and their actions. We will try to bring them over to Christ. If we stay in a state of grace, we will act as a mirror to their own faults, and they will resist it.

In the same way, the things and people we once loved before becoming more perfect disciples of Christ will become repugnant to us: We will not want to go back to those things, environments or people. To follow Christ with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, we need to be willing to undergo this transformation, to let go of those things that keep us looking back. We will have to move forward toward heaven, knowing that as we grow, we might find ourselves less able to connect with those we love and without the possessions we once held so dear. But being with Jesus will be worth the sacrifice. 

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Jesús nos dice en el Evangelio de hoy que debemos renunciar a todas nuestras posesiones para ser sus discípulos, y que debemos preferirlo a nuestro padre, madre, esposa, hijos, hermanos, hermanas y nuestra propia vida para seguirlo. Esto parece drástico, y lo es. Sabiendo que su mensaje requiere gran esfuerzo y confianza, Jesús pide a sus oyentes que consideren el costo: “¿quién de ustedes, si quiere construir una torre, no se pone primero a calcular el costo, para ver si tiene con qué terminarla?” ¿Hemos considerado el costo del discipulado?

En otras ocasiones, Jesús enumera los beneficios del discipulado, por ejemplo, durante el Sermón del Monte, al repasar las bienaventuranzas. Pero hoy nos invita a considerar los costos. Y así como los beneficios son grandes, también lo son los costos. Jesús detalla la experiencia de los ciudadanos del Reino. Tendrán que renunciar a mucho para ser parte de este Reino.

¿Qué significa renunciar a nuestras posesiones, y preferir a Dios encima de nuestras familias y nuestras vidas? Consideremos el costo. Cuando elegimos seguir a Jesús intencionalmente, con todo el corazón y de forma integral, descubrimos que no hay muchos otros dispuestos a hacer lo mismo, incluyendo a muchos de nuestros amigos y familiares. Y tenemos que distanciarnos de lo que nos impide permanecer en Cristo. Hay tantas cosas en la vida que llevamos con nosotros sin darnos cuenta; incluso posesiones y relaciones aparentemente neutrales pueden distraernos del Reino. En última instancia, queremos morir al mundo y vivir con Cristo para siempre.

Cuando hacemos este compromiso y lo vivimos de verdad, quienes no lo han hecho no lo entenderán. Nos harán preguntas, harán comentarios pasivo-agresivos y tal vez nos lanzarán acusaciones. Algunos se llamarán fieles, pero tendrán inconsistencias evidentes entre sus creencias y sus acciones. Intentaremos acercarlos a Cristo. Si nos mantenemos en un estado de gracia, seremos un espejo de sus propias faltas y se resistirán. 

De la misma manera, las cosas y las personas que amábamos antes de convertirnos en discípulos más perfectos de Cristo nos resultarán repugnantes: no vamos a querer volver a esas cosas, entornos ni personas. Para seguir a Cristo con todo el corazón, alma, mente y fuerzas, debemos estar dispuestos a experimentar esta transformación, a soltar aquello que nos hace mirar atrás. Tendremos que avanzar hacia el cielo, sabiendo que, a medida que crecemos, podríamos encontrarnos menos capaces de conectar con quienes amamos y sin las posesiones que antes apreciamos tanto. Pero valdrá la pena el sacrificio para estar con Jesús.

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David Dashiell is a freelance author and editor in the Nashville, Tennessee area. He has three children, a degree in theology, and enjoys writing about philosophy, theology, culture, music, and comedy. You can find his personal blog, Serious Daydreams, on Substack. He is also the editor of the anthology Ever Ancient, Ever New: Why Younger Generations Are Embracing Traditional Catholicism, available through TAN Books.

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The views and opinions expressed in the Inspiration Daily blog are solely those of the original authors and contributors. These views and opinions do not necessarily represent those of Diocesan, the Diocesan staff, or other contributors to this blog.

God’s Amazing Plans / Los planes maravillosos de Dios

We often feel overwhelmed by the problems that suddenly arise in our lives. The plans we once set out for ourselves never materialize, and we often become stubborn in trying to follow our own plan.

That happened to me when I graduated from college at the end of 2007. I had plans to get a really good job at a company here in the United States, daydreaming about it all the time. I had several interviews, which came down to the wire, but ended quickly when I answered one simple question: “Are you a permanent resident or a citizen?” Even though I had a work permit, they didn’t get the job because they didn’t want to deal with the paperwork.

Those were tough times, and I didn’t give up. My stubbornness caused a lot of stress and prevented me from realizing that there were other ways for personal development. God has a plan for us, even if it’s hard for us to accept. That path often leads to the opposite of what we had hoped for – I had to clean offices and bathrooms for a long time until I found a job in my field.

In today’s Gospel, we see a man preparing a great banquet, but none of the guests wanted to come. They all had their excuses and other plans. What awaited them was delicious food, a beautiful venue, and pleasant company, but they rejected it. How many times are we like those people? The banquet of God’s plans awaits us, and we reject it by following the rice and beans of our own plans.

The positive side of my personal experience was that I was able to pay off the credit cards I had used during my time in college. After a few years, I also saw the fruit of this because by the time I got married, I had very little debt. The lesson here is to be open to change – God’s ways are amazing.

Let us not stray from God or be sad when things seem to be going wrong. As the first reading says, “Rejoice in hope, endure in affliction, persevere in prayer.” Surrender your plans to God in prayer and tell Him “Thy will be done.”

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Muchas veces nos sentimos abrumados por los problemas que llegan de un momento a otro en nuestras vidas. Los planes que nos propusimos en algún momento, no se llegan a concretar, y muchas veces nos ponemos tercos al intentar seguir nuestro propio plan. 

Me pasó cuando me gradué de la universidad a finales del 2007, donde había hecho planes de conseguir un mejor trabajo en alguna empresa aquí en Estados Unidos y soñaba despierto en cada momento con mis planes. Tuve varias entrevistas lo cual llegaba hasta la última instancia para que al final con una simple pregunta me terminaba negando la posición,” ¿Eres residente permanente o ciudadano?” Aunque tenía permiso de trabajo no querían lidiar con el papeleo. 

Fueron momentos duros y no me daba por vencido. Mi terquedad hizo que me pusiera muy estresado y no me di cuenta que había otros caminos para desarrollarme cómo persona. Dios tiene un plan para nosotros aunque nos cuesta aceptarlo. Ese camino muchas veces va a lo opuesto a lo que queremos – me tocó limpiar oficinas y baños por un largo tiempo hasta poder conseguir un trabajo en mi carrera. 

En el Evangelio de hoy vemos que un hombre preparó un gran banquete pero ninguno de los invitados querían venir. Todos tenían sus excusas y otros planes. Lo que les esperaba era comida deliciosa, un ambiente hermoso y la compañía de personas agradables, pero lo rechazaron. ¿Cuántas veces nosotros somos iguales a esas personas? Nos espera todo un banquete de los planes de Dios y lo rechazamos por seguir el arroz y frijol de nuestros propios planes. 

El lado positivo de mi experiencia fue que pude pagar mis tarjetas de crédito que había utilizado en mi estancia en la universidad. Después de algunos años también se vio el fruto de este esfuerzo porque al momento de casarme ya no tenía casi nada de deuda. La lección que se da aquí es, hay que estar abiertos al cambio – los caminos de Dios son maravillosos.

No nos desviemos de Dios ni nos pongamos tristes cuando las cosas parecen ir mal. Como dice la primera lectura, “Que la esperanza los mantenga alegres; sean constantes en la tribulación y perseverantes en la oración”. Entregale tu plan a Dios en la oración y dile que se haga su voluntad.  

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Felix Urcia was born in Lima, Peru. He moved the U.S. to complete his college degree in Computer Science at Northern Kentucky University. He is passionate about his faith, his family, education and soccer. When he is not homeschooling and caring for his young children he enjoys personal programing projects and sports analysis. He and wife live in a small town in Western Michigan where they enjoy spending time with their five children.

Feature Image Credit: Jon Tyson, unsplash.com/photos/man-in-black-jacket-lying-on-floor-CYswOLYDUXY

The views and opinions expressed in the Inspiration Daily blog are solely those of the original authors and contributors. These views and opinions do not necessarily represent those of Diocesan, the Diocesan staff, or other contributors to this blog.

St. Martin de Porres / San MartĂ­n de Porres

When I attended Franciscan University of Steubenville the household I joined was one of only two on campus that allowed each member to choose their own household patron (as opposed to other households that had an overall household patron). During formation, I was tasked with much prayer and discernment to ask for insight on which saint to choose. During that time I remembered something my mama used to tell me: you don’t choose saints to have devotion to, they choose you. 

I’ve always had a special love for St. Rose of Lima, St. Francis Assisi, and Padre Pio so naturally I thought I should choose one of them for my patron. As I was studying St. Rose’s story, she happened to lead me to a dear friend of hers, St. Martin de Porres. For many weeks of my formation he kept popping up while I was researching the other saints I’ve already mentioned because he had similar stories of bilocation (like Padre Pio), communicating with and saving animals (like Francis) and was close friends with St. Rose, living just across town from her. 

I tried to ignore him because I was stubbornly set on choosing St. Rose, but she gently kept guiding me back to him until it was undeniable that he was choosing me. I began to study him more and more and fell completely in love with his story. He was an outcast because he was biracial, the son of a spanish soldier and latina woman, and neither culture would claim him. This caused many hardships as he was trying to follow God’s call to be a Dominican. Eventually he was accepted into the monastery but only as a servant, a role which he was overjoyed to accept. 

My favorite story happened before he entered the monastery. He was a barber and the town pharmacist, and a mother brought him her young son who had cut nearly all his fingers off while collecting sugar cane for his family. When Martin asked why they had faith that he could be healed, the boy said he was going to be a priest but he wouldn’t be able to hold the Lord’s Body without working hands. Martin prayed over the boy and said if it was really God’s will that he be a priest, he would be capable. Years passed and Martin was on a picnic with his fellow Dominicans when one of the seminarians looked at him and said, “You don’t remember me, do you?” Martin didn’t remember him and asked where they had met. The seminarian held up his perfectly formed hands and Martin recalled the boy he’d prayed for so many years prior, who would soon be ordained a priest. 

There are so many beautiful and touching stories about St. Martin, I encourage you to research him yourself and perhaps come to love “the saint of the broom” as much as I do. 

St. Martin De Porres, pray for us! 

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Cuando asistí a la Universidad Franciscana de Steubenville, el hogar al que me uní era uno de los dos únicos en el campus que permitían a cada miembro elegir a su propio santo patrón (a diferencia de otros hogares que tenían un patrón general). Durante mi formación, me encargaron mucha oración y discernimiento para pedir consejo sobre cuál santo elegir. Durante ese tiempo recordé algo que mi madre solía decirme: uno no elige a los santos para tener devoción, ellos te eligen a ti.

Siempre he tenido un cariño especial por Santa Rosa de Lima, San Francisco de Asis y el Padre Pío, así que, naturalmente, pensé que debía elegir a uno de ellos como mi patrón. Mientras estudiaba la historia de Santa Rosa, ella me condujo a un querido amigo suyo, San Martín de Porres. Durante muchas semanas de mi formación, él seguía apareciendo mientras investigaba a los otros santos que ya he mencionado, porque tenía historias semejantes de bilocación (como el Padre Pío), de comunicarse con animales y salvarlos (como Francisco de Asis), y era muy amigo de Santa Rosa, que vivía muy cerca de él.

Intenté ignorarlo e insistía tercamente en elegir a Santa Rosa, pero ella, con delicadeza, me guiaba de vuelta hacia él hasta que fue innegable que él me estaba eligiendo a mí. Empecé a estudiarlo cada vez más y me enamoré por completo de su historia. Era rechazado por ser birracial, hijo de un soldado español y una mujer latina, y ninguna de las dos culturas lo quería. Esto le causó muchas dificultades mientras intentaba seguir el llamado de Dios a ser dominico. Finalmente, fue aceptado en el monasterio, pero solo como sirviente, un rol que aceptó con gran alegría.

Mi historia favorita ocurrió antes de entrar al monasterio. Era peluquero y farmacéutico del pueblo, y una madre le trajo a su hijo pequeño, quien se había cortado casi todos los dedos mientras recogía caña de azúcar para su familia. Cuando Martín preguntó por qué tenían fe en que se podría sanar, el niño dijo que iba a ser sacerdote, pero que no podría sostener el Cuerpo del Cristo sin manos completas. Martín oró por el niño y dijo que si realmente era la voluntad de Dios que fuera sacerdote, sería capaz de hacerlo. 

Pasaron los años y Martín estaba de picnic con sus compañeros dominicos cuando uno de los seminaristas lo miró y le dijo: “¿No te acuerdas de mí?”. Martín no lo recordaba y le preguntó dónde se habían conocido. El seminarista levantó sus manos perfectamente formadas y Martín recordó al niño por el que había rezado hace tantos años, quien pronto sería ordenado sacerdote.

Hay tantas historias hermosas y conmovedoras sobre San Martín; los animo a investigarlo por sí mismos y quizás lleguen a amar al “santo de la escoba” tanto como yo.

San Martín de Porres, ¡ruega por nosotros!

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Lily is a Michigan native and cradle Catholic who has spent most of her life exploring her own reasons to embrace her faith fully. She attended Franciscan University of Steubenville, where she discovered the beauty of her personal relationship with Christ and the Church. After college, she worked in Montessori Education for three years and recently transitioned to nannying. She was recently married and spends most of her time reading, and enjoying her dog and family!

Feature Image Credit: Unknown Artist, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martin_de_Porres

The views and opinions expressed in the Inspiration Daily blog are solely those of the original authors and contributors. These views and opinions do not necessarily represent those of Diocesan, the Diocesan staff, or other contributors to this blog.

All the Faithful Departed / Todos los Fieles Difuntos

Eleven years ago on this date, our first child, a son named Alexander Lloyd, was brought into our world stillborn. The heartbreak and confusion of why our beloved child would not grow with us together in my husband’s and my lifetime still resonates day in and day out a lifetime later. 

Despite having many subsequent children alive and vibrant around us, I take the loss of our beloved boy as a sign of God’s covenant. If I can come out victorious in this spiritual battle over pain and suffering, my reward will be so immensely infinite when on that sweet day I can finally be with the son who was not meant for this life but has an even greater purpose with the Lord. 

It is not a unique story that, living on this Earth, each of us will lose a loved one at some point. We often like to avoid the memories that bring us sadness. However, through the most difficult of times arises the most gratifying results: that Jesus Christ promised to resurrect those who belong to Him. His love surpasses death for all people of all time.

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Hace once años, en esta fecha, nuestro primer hijo, Alexander Lloyd, nació muerto. La angustia y la confusión de por qué nuestro amado hijo no crecería con nosotros en la vida de mi esposo y la mía aún resuenan día tras día, toda una vida después.

A pesar de tener varios hijos después, vivos y vibrantes a nuestro alrededor, tomo la pérdida de nuestro amado hijo como una señal de la alianza de Dios. Si logro salir victoriosa de esta batalla espiritual contra el dolor y el sufrimiento, mi recompensa será inmensamente infinita cuando en ese dulce día finalmente pueda estar con el hijo que no estaba destinado a esta vida, pero que tiene un propósito aún mayor con el Señor.

No es una historia única que, viviendo en esta Tierra, cada uno de nosotros pierda a un ser querido en algún momento. A menudo preferimos evitar los recuerdos que nos traen tristeza. Sin embargo, de los momentos más difíciles surgen los resultados más gratificantes: que Jesucristo prometió resucitar a quienes le pertenecen. Su amor supera la muerte para todas las personas de todos los tiempos.

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Dr. Alexis Dallara-Marsh is a board-certified neurologist who practices in Bergen County, NJ. She is a wife to her best friend, Akeem, and a mother of four little ones on Earth and two others in heaven above.

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The views and opinions expressed in the Inspiration Daily blog are solely those of the original authors and contributors. These views and opinions do not necessarily represent those of Diocesan, the Diocesan staff, or other contributors to this blog.

How Can We Be Saintly? / ¿CĂ³mo podemos ser santos?

Saints have done some amazing things, and their stories have laid the groundwork for what we as Christians should strive to be. We don’t even know who most of the saints are, considering there are over 10,000 of them. Even if you chose to study one of them each day, it would take over 27 years to make it through all of them, with more saints being canonized each year. Pope Francis alone canonized 942 of them during his papacy (2013-2025). 

How can we remember them all? How are we supposed to study them all to become more saintly? That’s what All Saints Day is for. While we may not know the whole list of saints, we can study them and pray to all of them on All Saints Day in recognition of their lives and what they did to serve God and the Church. On this day we also recognize those who are Blessed, those who are on the way to become a saint.

But how do we become more “saintly”, like St. Peter who opted to be crucified upside down because he didn’t feel worthy to be martyred in the same way that Jesus was? Or St. Francis of Assisi who threw himself into a rose bush from a third story window because he had sinned (although God comically took all the thorns away so he wouldn’t hurt himself; St. Francis was not happy about that)? How are we supposed to imitate them? 

Well, not all of the saints went to extremes to live out their faith. From St. Carlo Acutis (who was canonized just a couple months ago) who documented Eucharistic miracles on a website, modeling how to evangelize in modern society, to St. Augustine, who after finding God spent his life writing his Confessions, which helped form western civilization’s philosophy and are still being studied today. 

There are ways we can better ourselves, whether it is practicing more humility, finding the love of God even on the bad days, finding joy in others, or even just improving routine intentional prayer. There are always ways we can be more saintly.

My wife’s family has a beautiful tradition where each person in the family selects a patron saint. They pick a slip of paper with a saint’s name on it from a bowl, then study and ask for the intercession from that saint for the whole year. This allows them to actively educate themselves on saints that they otherwise wouldn’t know about. Learning the stories of the saints is a great way to grow not only as a person, but also in our Catholic faith.

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Los santos han hecho cosas asombrosas, y sus historias han sentado las bases de lo que nosotros, como cristianos, debemos aspirar a ser. Ni siquiera sabemos quiénes son la mayoría de los santos, considerando que hay más de 10,000. Incluso si decidiéramos estudiar a uno cada día, nos tomaría más de 27 años recorrerlos a todos, y cada año se canonizan más. Tan solo el Papa Francisco canonizó a 942 santos durante su papado (2013-2025).

¿Cómo podemos recordarlos a todos? ¿Cómo se supone que debemos estudiarlos para ser más santos? Para eso está el Día de Todos los Santos. Aunque no conozcamos la lista completa de santos, podemos estudiarlos y rezarles a todos en el Día de Todos los Santos en reconocimiento a sus vidas y a lo que hicieron para servir a Dios y a la Iglesia. En este día también reconocemos a los Beatos, a aquellos que están en camino a la santidad.

Pero ¿cómo podemos llegar a ser más santos, como San Pedro, quien optó por ser crucificado cabeza abajo porque no se sentía digno de ser martirizado como Jesús? ¿O San Francisco de Asís, quien se arrojó a un rosal desde una ventana del tercer piso por haber pecado (aunque, cómicamente, Dios le quitó todas las espinas para que no se hiciera daño; a San Francisco no se le hizo gracioso)? ¿Cómo se supone que debemos imitarlos?

Bueno, no todos los santos llegaron a los extremos para vivir su fe. Desde San Carlo Acutis (canonizado hace apenas un par de meses), quien documentó milagros eucarísticos en un sitio web, modelando cómo evangelizar en la sociedad moderna, hasta San Agustín, quien, tras encontrar a Dios, dedicó su vida a escribir sus Confesiones, que contribuyeron a formar la filosofía de la civilización occidental y que aún se estudian hoy en día. 

Hay formas de superarnos, ya sea practicando más humildad, encontrando el amor de Dios incluso en los días malos, encontrando alegría en los demás o incluso simplemente mejorando nuestra oración intencional. Siempre hay maneras de ser más santos.

La familia de mi esposa tiene una hermosa tradición: cada miembro de la familia elige un santo patrón. Sacan un papelito con el nombre de un santo de un cuenco, lo estudian y piden su intercesión durante todo el año. Esto les permite aprender activamente sobre santos que de otra manera desconocerían. Aprender las historias de los santos es una forma excelente de crecer no solo como personas, sino también en nuestra fe católica.

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Ben Hooper is originally from Maryland, having been adopted from Korea and growing up in the Catholic faith. He went to Franciscan University to dive deeper into his faith and eventually graduated with a degree in Business Management. He loves musical theater, sports, spending time with his wife Lily and their dog Kolbe.

Feature Image Credit: Paolo Bici, https://www.pexels.com/photo/statue-detail-of-st-peter-s-basilica-vatican-31961983/

The views and opinions expressed in the Inspiration Daily blog are solely those of the original authors and contributors. These views and opinions do not necessarily represent those of Diocesan, the Diocesan staff, or other contributors to this blog.

The Law of Love / La ley del amor

At first glance this Gospel seems to suggest relativism. The law says all that can and cannot be done on the Sabbath and it is held dear to the Jews. Then there is Jesus’ question, “Who among you, if your son or ox falls into a cistern, would not immediately pull him out on the sabbath day?” (Luke 14: 5).  It almost suggests that the law is law until there is an exception and we know that once exceptions start, the law starts ending. 

We see it often now. For example, the Catholic Church opposes contraception, but some would say birth control is ok if such and such were the case. The exceptions begin to supersede the teaching. 

I didn’t think this is what Jesus was saying but I was still confused so I asked my parish priest. Happily, he came over for dinner about the time I was writing this.  He suggested looking at what the law is directing us to – God himself.  Our end goal in everything is eternal unity with God. In healing the man with dropsy, Jesus is beginning that union. He, God made Man, initiated the healing, and doesn’t He have the authority to create what we as mere humans would see as an exception to the law? In His infinite and ineffable wisdom, He knew that in order to help this particular man, healing had to happen at that time on that day. 

We all need healing, whether it’s from deep wounds that still scar us, or the battle wounds from living in a broken world as a broken human. Wouldn’t we rather have a Savior who lovingly gives us what we need when we need it rather than one who says, “Come back Monday when the office is open”? 

So instead of focusing on the law itself or the exceptions to it, let’s focus on God’s unfathomable love and His perfect timing. 

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A primera vista, este Evangelio parece sugerir relativismo. La ley dice todo lo que se puede y no se puede hacer en sábado, y es muy apreciada por los judíos. Luego está la pregunta de Jesús: “Si a alguno de ustedes se le cae en un pozo su burro o su buey, ¿no lo saca enseguida, aunque sea sábado?” (Lucas 14:5). Casi sugiere que la ley es ley hasta que haya una excepción, y sabemos que una vez que comienzan las excepciones, la ley comienza a terminar.

Lo vemos a menudo ahora. Por ejemplo, la Iglesia Católica se opone a la anticoncepción, pero algunos dirían que el control de la natalidad está bien si tal o cual es el caso. Las excepciones comienzan a invalidar la enseñanza.

No pensé que esto fuera lo que Jesús estaba diciendo, pero seguía confundida, así que le pregunté a mi párroco. Afortunadamente, vino a cenar cerca del tiempo que estaba escribiendo esta reflexión. Sugirió que consideráramos a qué nos dirige la ley: a Dios mismo. Nuestro objetivo final en todo es la unidad eterna con Dios. Al sanar al hidrópico, Jesús inicia esa unión. Él, Dios hecho hombre, inició la sanación, ¿y acaso no tiene la autoridad de crear lo que nosotros, como simples seres humanos, consideraríamos una excepción a la ley? En su infinita e inefable sabiduría, sabía que para ayudar a este hombre en particular, la sanación debía ocurrir en ese momento, en ese día.

Todos necesitamos la sanación, ya sea de heridas profundas que aún nos marcan, o de las heridas de guerra de vivir en un mundo quebrado como seres humanos quebrados. ¿No preferiríamos tener un Salvador que nos dé con amor lo que necesitamos cuando lo necesitamos, en lugar de uno que nos diga: “Vuelve el lunes cuando la oficina esté abierta”?

Así que, en lugar de centrarnos en la ley en sí o en sus excepciones, centrémonos en el amor insondable de Dios y que obra en el momento perfecto.

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Merridith Frediani loves words and is delighted by good sentences. She also loves Lake Michigan, dahlias, the first sip of hot coffee in the morning, millennials, and playing Sheepshead with her husband and three kids. She writes for Catholic Mom, Diocesan.com, and her local Catholic Herald. Her first book Draw Close to Jesus: A Woman’s Guide to Adoration is available at Our Sunday Visitor and Amazon. You can learn more at merridithfrediani.com.

Feature Image Credit: Anker Lund, art.diocesan.com/stock-photo/jesus-heals-the-blind-20570/

The views and opinions expressed in the Inspiration Daily blog are solely those of the original authors and contributors. These views and opinions do not necessarily represent those of Diocesan, the Diocesan staff, or other contributors to this blog.

A Laser-Focused Schedule / Un horario bien enfocada

I just love Jesus’ attitude in this Gospel passage. He’s a man on a mission and can’t be bothered by what other people are saying. Of course, this is true throughout the Gospels, but there’s something about the matter-of-fact way Jesus lays out his weekly schedule that gets me.

In a world full of distractions, some good, some not so much, it is easy to get overwhelmed with everything we “need” to get done: work, family, sports practice, volunteering, watching the big game, gardening, learning a new language or hobby, laundry, and ample time scrolling social media. It’s no wonder we are overwhelmed and over scheduled. While social media and the internet weren’t around in Jesus’ time, gossip and societal pressure were just as alive and pervasive. 

Jesus clearly had a reputation if Herod’s plans were so plainly known. Herod felt threatened by Jesus because Jesus was doing all the things the Messiah was prophesied to do – heal the sick, cure the lame, make the blind see. Jesus was traveling, casting out demons and preaching to large crowds. He was busy.

And yet, Jesus also appears laser-focused on what he is doing in the present moment. He tells the Pharisees who are warning him about Herod’s intentions that it doesn’t matter what Herod plans. Today and tomorrow (meaning the present and the near future), Jesus will be focused on casting out demons and healing people. He isn’t looking to the left or to the right, considering how His actions are impressing or threatening others. He isn’t pausing to bask in the honor many are giving him. He has no plans to shy away from threats, concerns, or questions from societal authorities. He knows what he is about and the work that is necessary to accomplish.

Do we know what we are about? When I look at my schedule, does it identify me as a follower of Christ? Am I laser-focused on the things of Heaven, on the mission God has for my life? Or, am I floundering through the whims and demands of a more short-sighted schedule?

It is interesting. In being intensely focused on the present moment, Jesus is able to have a heavenly perspective. He knows where the mission has called Him, He says as much when He explains that on the third day He will accomplish His purpose. But this doesn’t distract Him from the necessary work of the day He is living in. 

We can live our lives in a similar manner. We can make plans and schedules but it is critical to remember that they serve us and our God-given mission, not the other way around. Everything Jesus did drew him closer to the day His mission was fulfilled on the cross. Everything we choose to do, or not do, should be considered in the same manner. As we plan our week we  can ask ourselves, how is this going to bring me closer to God and closer to heaven?

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Me encanta la actitud de Jesús en este pasaje del Evangelio. Es un hombre con una misión y no le importa lo que digan los demás. Claro, esto es cierto en todos los Evangelios, pero hay algo en la forma práctica en que Jesús organiza su agenda semanal que me conmueve.

En un mundo lleno de distracciones, algunas buenas, otras no tanto, es fácil sentirse abrumado con todo lo que “tenemos que” hacer: trabajo, familia, entrenamiento deportivo, voluntariado, ver el gran partido, jardinería, aprender un nuevo idioma o pasatiempo, lavar la ropa y pasar bastante tiempo navegando en las redes sociales. No es de extrañar que estemos abrumados y sobrecargados. Si bien las redes sociales e internet no existían en la época de Jesús, los chismes y la presión social eran igual de fuertes y omnipresentes.

Si los planes de Herodes se conocieran tan claramente, Jesús tenía una reputación. Herodes se sintió amenazado por Jesús porque estaba haciendo todo lo que se profetizó que haría el Mesías: sanar a los enfermos, curar a los cojos, dar vista a los ciegos. Jesús viajaba, expulsaba demonios y predicaba a grandes multitudes. Estaba ocupado.

Y, sin embargo, Jesús también parecía estar completamente concentrado en lo que hacía en el momento presente. Les dijo a los fariseos que le advertían sobre las intenciones de Herodes que no importaba lo que Herodes tenía planeado. Hoy y mañana (es decir, el presente y el futuro cercano), Jesús se centraría en expulsar demonios y sanar a la gente. No miraba a la izquierda ni a la derecha, considerando cómo sus acciones impresionaban o amenazaban a otros. No se detenía a disfrutar del honor que muchos le concedían. No planeaba eludir las amenazas, preocupaciones o preguntas de las autoridades sociales. Sabía lo que hacía y el trabajo que debía realizar.

¿Sabemos lo que hacemos? Cuando miro mi agenda, ¿me identifica como seguidor de Cristo? ¿Estoy completamente concentrado en las cosas del Cielo, en la misión que Dios tiene para mi vida? ¿O me dejo llevar por los caprichos y las exigencias de una agenda más limitada?

Es interesante. Al estar intensamente enfocado en el momento presente, Jesús puede tener una perspectiva celestial. Sabe adónde lo ha llamado la misión; lo dice al explicar que al tercer día cumplirá su propósito. Pero esto no lo distrae de la obra esencial del día en que vive.

Podemos vivir nuestras vidas de manera semejante. Podemos hacer planes y horarios, pero es fundamental recordar que estos nos sirven a nosotros y a la misión que Dios nos ha encomendado, no al revés. Todo lo que Jesús hizo lo acercó al día en que su misión se cumplió en la cruz. Todo lo que elegimos hacer o no hacer, debemos considerar de la misma manera. Al planificar la semana, podemos preguntarnos: ¿cómo esto me va a acercar a Dios y al cielo?

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Kate Taliaferro is an Air Force wife and mother. She is blessed to be able to homeschool, bake bread and fold endless piles of laundry. When not planning a school day, writing a blog post or cooking pasta, Kate can be found curled up with a book or working with some kind of fiber craft. Kate blogs at DailyGraces.net.

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The views and opinions expressed in the Inspiration Daily blog are solely those of the original authors and contributors. These views and opinions do not necessarily represent those of Diocesan, the Diocesan staff, or other contributors to this blog.

The Last Will Be First / Los Ăºltimos serĂ¡n los primeros

“Lord, will only a few people be saved?”

The question suggests a concern about how difficult it is to be saved. Is it so difficult that only a few people will achieve it, or is it easy enough even for me? How hard do I have to work for this?

Jesus has the opportunity to say what we want to hear: “No worries. Just be nice and share, smile and say a prayer. I’m doing all the hard work for you. You just have to accept me as your Lord and Savior and you’ll be fine.”

But that’s not how He answers.

He tells us that we must enter through a “narrow gate,” that many are not strong enough, that even saying that we know Him will not ensure that He will let us in at that critical moment. Some will be called “evildoers” and told to depart! Jesus does not sugar-coat that terrible moment when “there will be wailing and grinding of teeth” by those who have been “cast out.”

Jesus does not ever proclaim a comfortable, easy, self-satisfying journey along a smooth road. He tells us (and shows us by his own life and death) that it will be difficult, that we will have to stand against “the world,” that we must take up our cross, strive with all our strength to travel the narrow path, and follow Him along the trail he has blazed for us. Those whose love is only superficial and external will not be allowed to enter, not because God has slammed the door, but because they chose not to go through it by refusing His friendship and love.

Jesus also reminds us that those who seem great – or even holy – to our human judgment may not truly be so. And some who are humble and forgotten are the very ones who will be reclining at table in the Kingdom of God. In God’s perfect judgment, all injustice will be corrected: “some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last.” So we must learn to appreciate the expression of God’s justice in Mary’s Magnificat: “He has mercy on those who fear him in every generation… He has scattered the proud in their conceit. He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich He has sent away empty.”

Lord, help me be content to be among the last in this world – the few, the small – so that I can be among the first in Your Kingdom of Love!

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“Señor, ¿es verdad que son pocos los que se salvan?”

La pregunta sugiere una preocupación por lo difícil que es ser salvado. ¿Es tan difícil que solo unos pocos lo lograrán, o es lo suficientemente fácil incluso para mí? ¿Cuánto tengo que esforzarme para lograrlo?

Jesús tiene la oportunidad de decirnos lo que queremos oír: “No te preocupes. Solo sé amable, comparte, sonríe y reza. Yo hago todo el trabajo duro por ti. Solo tienes que aceptarme como tu Señor y Salvador y estarás bien”.

Pero no responde de esa forma.

Nos dice que debemos entrar por una puerta angosta, que muchos no son lo suficientemente fuertes, que ni siquiera decir que lo conocemos nos asegurará que nos deje entrar en ese momento crítico. ¡A algunos les dirá, “Apártense de mí, todos ustedes los que hacen el mal”! Jesús no suavizó ese terrible momento cuando “llorarán ustedes y se desesperarán” los que han sido expulsados. 

Jesús nunca proclama un camino cómodo, fácil y autocomplaciente por un camino llano. Nos dice (y nos lo muestra con su propia vida y muerte) que será difícil, que tendremos que oponernos al mundo, que debemos tomar nuestra cruz, esforzarnos con todas nuestras fuerzas por recorrer el camino angosto y seguirlo por la senda que nos ha trazado. Los que aman de forma superficial y externa no podrán entrar, no porque Dios les haya cerrado la puerta, sino porque decidieron no entrar al rechazar su amistad y amor.

Jesús también nos recuerda que quienes parecen grandes, o incluso santos, a nuestro juicio humano pueden no serlo de verdad. Y algunos humildes y olvidados son precisamente los que se sentarán a la mesa en el Reino de Dios. En el juicio perfecto de Dios, toda injusticia será corregida: “los que ahora son los últimos, serán los primeros; y los que ahora son los primeros, serán los últimos”. Así que debemos aprender a apreciar la expresión de la justicia de Dios en el Magníficat de María: “su misericordia llega a sus fieles de generación en generación… ha dispersado a los soberbios de corazón; ha derribado de sus tronos a los poderosos y ha exaltado a los humildes; ha colmado de bienes a los hambrientos y ha despedido a los ricos con las manos vacías”.

Señor, ayúdame a estar contenta con ser de los últimos en este mundo —de los pocos, los pequeños— para poder ser de los primeros en tu Reino de Amor.

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Kathryn Mulderink, MA, is married to Robert, Station Manager for Holy Family Radio. Together they have seven children (including Father Rob), and eleven grandchildren. She is President of the local community of Secular Discalced Carmelites and has published five books and many articles. Over the last 30 years, she has worked as a teacher, headmistress, catechist, Pastoral Associate, and DRE, and as a writer and voice talent for Catholic Radio. Currently, she serves the Church by writing and speaking, and by collaborating with various parishes and to lead others to encounter Christ and engage their faith. Her website is www.KathrynTherese.com

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The views and opinions expressed in the Inspiration Daily blog are solely those of the original authors and contributors. These views and opinions do not necessarily represent those of Diocesan, the Diocesan staff, or other contributors to this blog.

Different Venues, But Still Disciples / Distintos sitios, pero todavĂ­a discĂ­pulos

I have always been inspired by the readings from the Acts of the Apostles. The way the followers of Christ sold everything and put it at the feet of the Apostles so everyone could be provided for, the way they persevered despite suffering so much for their faith, the way they traveled such vast distances to preach and teach. Having a background in missionary work, it is so nostalgic for me and makes me want to jump on a plane to go Evangelize in a foreign country. It always makes me want to do more. 

Yet I am at a season in life where I simply cannot do that. I am not called to fly across the ocean or cross the southern border. I have my own children to raise now, and a suffering husband to take care of. My “foreign country” is now the four walls of my home and my “ocean” is the depths of love it takes to persevere day in and day out, despite constant challenges. 

In the first reading Paul writes, “You are no longer strangers and sojourners, but you are fellow citizens with the holy ones and members of the household of God, built upon the foundation of the Apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the capstone. Through him the whole structure is held together and grows into a temple sacred in the Lord; in him you also are being built together into a dwelling place of God in the Spirit.” These words can bring so much joy to our hearts!

We may not be sojourners but we are still members of the household of God. We may not be able to go out and preach like the Apostles did but we are built upon their foundation. We were not afforded the privilege of meeting Jesus in person but He is still our capstone, our Leader. We are an essential part of the temple that is sacred to the Lord, the temple that He Himself holds together. And perhaps most importantly, God resides in us! We are a dwelling place of the Holy Spirit!

Essentially it doesn’t matter how far we travel or how many words we preach or how many people we convert. What matters is allowing God to work in us and through us in the way that He wishes. What matters is having the humility and the flexibility and the openness to become one of His fine-tuned instruments. What matters is loving and being loved by both God and others. So march on, missionary disciple, and continue the work that God has in store for you. 

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Siempre me han inspirado las lecturas de los Hechos de los Apóstoles. La forma en que los seguidores de Cristo vendieron todo y lo pusieron a los pies de los Apóstoles para que todos pudieran recibir sustento, la forma en que perseveraron a pesar de sufrir tanto por su fe, la forma en que viajaron distancias tan largas para predicar y enseñar. Con mi experiencia en el trabajo misionero, me resulta muy nostálgico y me dan ganas de subirme a un avión para ir a evangelizar a un país extranjero. Siempre me dan ganas de hacer más.

Sin embargo, estoy en una etapa de mi vida en la que simplemente no puedo hacerlo. No estoy llamada a cruzar el océano ni a cruzar la frontera del sur. Ahora tengo que criar a mis propios hijos y cuidar de un esposo que sufre. Mi “país extranjero” ahora son las cuatro paredes de mi casa y mi “océano” es la profundidad del amor que se requiere para perseverar día tras día, a pesar de las dificultades constantes.

En la primera lectura, Pablo escribe: “Ya no son ustedes extranjeros ni advenedizos; son conciudadanos de los santos y pertenecen a la familia de Dios, porque han sido edificados sobre el cimiento de los apóstoles y de los profetas, siendo Cristo Jesús la piedra angular.

Sobre Cristo, todo el edificio se va levantando bien estructurado, para formar el templo santo del Señor, y unidos a él también ustedes se van incorporando al edificio, por medio del Espíritu Santo, para ser morada de Dios.” ¡Estas palabras pueden traer mucha alegría a nuestros corazones!

Puede que no seamos advenedizos, pero seguimos siendo miembros de la familia de Dios. Quizás no podamos salir a predicar como lo hicieron los apóstoles, pero estamos edificados sobre su cimiento. No tuvimos el privilegio de conocer a Jesús en persona, pero Él sigue siendo nuestra piedra angular, nuestro Líder. Somos parte esencial del templo sagrado para el Señor, el templo que Él mismo mantiene unido. Y quizás lo más importante, ¡Dios reside dentro de nosotros! ¡Somos morada del Espíritu Santo!

En esencia, no importa cuán lejos viajemos, cuántas palabras prediquemos ni a cuántas personas convirtamos. Lo que importa es permitir que Dios obre en nosotros y a través de nosotros como Él desea. Lo que importa es tener la humildad, la flexibilidad y la disposición para convertirnos en uno de sus instrumentos afinados. Lo que importa es amar y ser amado tanto por Dios como por los demás. Así que, sigue adelante, discípulo misionero, y continúa la obra que Dios tiene preparada para ti.

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Tami Urcia is a midwestern gal from a large Catholic family. As a young adulthood she was a missionary in Mexico, where she studied theology and philosophy. After returning stateside bilingual, she gained a variety of work experience, traveled extensively and finished her Bachelor’s Degree at Brescia University. She loves organizing and simplifying things, watching her children play sports, deep conversations with close family and friends and finding unique ways to brighten others’ day with Christ’s love. She works full time at Diocesan in the Software Department and manages the Inspiration Daily reflections. She is also a contributing writer on CatholicMom.com and BlessedIsShe.net.

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The views and opinions expressed in the Inspiration Daily blog are solely those of the original authors and contributors. These views and opinions do not necessarily represent those of Diocesan, the Diocesan staff, or other contributors to this blog.

Keeping the Lord’s Day Holy / Santificando el día del Señor

Today’s Gospel reminds me of all that Jesus had to put up with. The leaders of the synagogue challenged Him because He healed a crippled woman on the Sabbath. She could not stand up straight. I know ladies that have the same condition and they struggle tremendously. 

According to the Law of Moses, work was not permitted on the Sabbath. In fact, simply walking a certain amount of steps was considered work (I wonder if that included walking to the synagogue on the Sabbath). Jesus was not happy with the leader of the synagogue’s response to the healing and called those in the crowd hypocrites. He gave them an example using everyday life. His adversaries were humiliated while the rest of the crowd “rejoiced at all the splendid deeds done by him.” 

Let me attempt to bring the happenings of that day into the present time. When I was a young boy growing up in Ludington, virtually all the stores were closed on Sunday. The only exception was a little Shell gas station that was open 24/7 for taxis.  What a difference compared to today! Many could not even imagine that.

Why were all the stores closed? To keep holy the Sabbath. Pretty radical, huh? Remember, the Ten Commandments are not ten suggestions. It took a few years, but slowly but surely stores began to open on Sundays. I mention this so you can take note of how changing just one thing    can gradually deteriorate our faith. Think for a moment about how many other aspects of our faith that has happened to also? Too many. 

What did it cost us not to go to the store on Sunday? Not much. It just took a little planning and sacrifice. We did it for hundreds of years and I don’t think anyone went hungry or died for lack of a cigarette. Teaching our children about sacrifices is really what we need to do. Just remember who performed the greatest sacrifice – Jesus Christ. 

I invite you all to think of a one or two ways you can kick the holiness of your Sundays up a notch. Yes, to act on them may require some sacrifice, but putting God first is always worth it.

Serving with joy!

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El Evangelio de hoy me recuerda todo lo que Jesús tuvo que soportar. Los líderes de la sinagoga lo enfrentaron porque sanó a una mujer lisiada el sábado. No podía pararse rectamente. Conozco a mujeres con la misma condición y batallan muchísimo.

Según la Ley de Moisés, no se permitía trabajar en Sabbath. De hecho, simplemente caminar cierta cantidad de pasos se consideraba trabajo (me pregunto si eso incluía caminar a la sinagoga el sábado). Jesús no estaba contento con la reacción del líder de la sinagoga ante la sanación y llamó hipócritas a los de la multitud. Les dio un ejemplo usando la vida cotidiana. Sus adversarios fueron humillados mientras que el resto de la multitud “se alegraba de todas las maravillas que él hacía”.

Permítanme intentar traer los sucesos de ese día al presente. Cuando era niño y crecía en Ludington, prácticamente todas las tiendas cerraban los domingos. La única excepción era una pequeña gasolinera Shell que estaba abierta 24 horas para los taxistas. ¡Qué diferencia con el día de hoy! Muchos ni siquiera podían imaginarlo.

¿Por qué estaban cerradas todas las tiendas? Para santificar el día del Señor. Es bastante radical, ¿verdad? Recuerden, los Diez Mandamientos no son diez sugerencias. Tomó algunos años, pero poco a poco, las tiendas comenzaron a abrir los domingos. Menciono esto para que se den cuenta de cómo cambiar una sola cosa puede deteriorar gradualmente nuestra fe. Piensen por un momento en cuántos otros aspectos de nuestra fe les ha pasado lo mismo. Demasiados.

¿Cuánto nos costó no ir a la tienda el domingo? No mucho. Solo requirió un poco de planificación y sacrificio. Lo hicimos durante cientos de años y no creo que nadie pasara hambre ni muriera por falta de un cigarrillo. Enseñar a nuestros hijos sobre los sacrificios es realmente lo que debemos hacer. Simplemente recuerden quién realizó el mayor sacrificio: Jesucristo.

Los invito a todos a pensar en una o dos maneras de elevar la santidad de los domingos. Sí, poner en práctica sus ideas puede requerir sacrificio, pero poner a Dios primero siempre vale la pena.

¡Sirviendo con alegría!

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Deacon Dan Schneider is a retired general manager of industrial distributors. He and his wife Vicki have been married for over 55 years. They are the parents of eight children and thirty-one grandchildren. He has a degree in Family Life Education from Spring Arbor University. He was ordained a Permanent Deacon in 2002.  He has a passion for working with engaged and married couples and his main ministry has been preparing couples for marriage.

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The views and opinions expressed in the Inspiration Daily blog are solely those of the original authors and contributors. These views and opinions do not necessarily represent those of Diocesan, the Diocesan staff, or other contributors to this blog.

Justice and Humility / Justicia y Humildad

Children seem to have a highly evolved sense of justice. As both a parent and a teacher, I can still hear the whiny refrain, “but it’s not fair,” and the complaint that so and so had more crayons or a bigger piece of cake or got to choose the game at recess. Really, though, what they have is a sense that someone has something bigger or better than they do and they do not like that at all.

As adults, we are different. Right? Maybe. You may be familiar with the Litany of Humility. Some parts of that prayer are hard to say, let alone desire. “From the desire of being loved… praised… preferred, deliver me Jesus… From the fear of being humiliated… despised… forgotten, deliver me Jesus… That others may be praised and I unnoticed, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.”  

Humility is necessary to submit ourselves to the justice of God. Humility teaches us to behave like the tax collector in today’s Gospel and not like the Pharisee. The Pharisee is very concerned with doing what is correct according to the law and comparing himself to those he believes are not as good as he is. He shows a lack of humility and is judgmental. The tax collector, in contrast, begs for God’s mercy. He knows who he is, a sinner, like all of us. If we do not humbly acknowledge our sinfulness, we cannot receive God’s mercy.  Only when we go before God and acknowledge our sins and ask for forgiveness do we receive mercy.

The Pharisee and the tax collector are us. Maybe not at the same time, but certainly over a lifetime. We cannot help but be both because humility is not an easy virtue to acquire or to maintain. I have noticed that my ability to be humble lessens when I begin to think about life being “not fair” like children do. It also lessens when I think, “oh, look at me, I’m so humble,” somehow thinking it came from something I did rather than from God.

Praying the Litany of Humility is not easy, but it may be your time to pray it. Go slowly, notice what stings a bit or where you catch your breath and write it down. Then ask God to help you grow toward humility in those areas.

Life may not seem fair, but God is. I invite you to accept your life, with its joys and sorrows, in humility, knowing that God exalts the humble.

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Los niños parecen tener un sentido de la justicia muy desarrollado. Como madre y profesor, todavía puedo oír el lloriqueo de “pero no es justo”, y la queja de que esa otra persona tenía más crayones, un trozo de pastel más grande o pudo escoger el juego durante recreo. Sin embargo, en realidad, lo que tienen es la sensación de que alguien tiene algo más grande o mejor que ellos, y eso no les gusta para nada.

Como adultos, somos diferentes. ¿Verdad? Puede ser. Quizás conozcas la Letanía de la Humildad. Algunas partes de esa oración son difíciles de recitar, y mucho menos de desear. “Del deseo de ser amado… alabado… preferido, líbrame, Jesús… Del miedo de ser humillado… despreciado… olvidado, líbrame, Jesús… Para que otros sean alabados y yo pase desapercibido, Jesús, concédeme la gracia de desearlo”.

La humildad es necesaria para someternos a la justicia de Dios. La humildad nos enseña a comportarnos como el publicano del Evangelio de hoy y no como el fariseo. El fariseo se preocupa mucho por hacer lo correcto según la ley y se compara con quienes cree que no son tan buenos como él. Muestra falta de humildad y es crítico. El publicano, en cambio, implora la misericordia de Dios. Sabe quién es: un pecador, como todos nosotros. Si no reconocemos humildemente el hecho de que somos pecadores, no podemos recibir la misericordia de Dios. Solo recibimos misericordia cuando nos presentamos ante Dios, reconocemos nuestros pecados y pedimos perdón.

Nosotros somos tanto el fariseo como el publicano. Quizás no al mismo tiempo, pero sí a lo largo de la vida. No podemos evitar ser ambos, porque la humildad no es una virtud fácil de adquirir ni de mantener. He notado que mi capacidad de ser humilde disminuye cuando empiezo a pensar que la vida “no es justa”, como hacen los niños. También disminuye cuando pienso: “Oh, mírame, qué humilde soy”, pensando que de alguna manera proviene de algo que yo hice y no de Dios. 

Rezar la Letanía de la Humildad no es fácil, pero quizás sea tu momento de hacerlo. Leelo despacio, observa qué te duele un poco o dónde te quedas sin aliento y anótalo. Luego, pídele a Dios que te ayude a crecer en humildad en esos aspectos.

La vida puede parecer injusta, pero Dios sí es justo. Te invito a aceptar tu vida, con sus alegrías y sus tristezas, con humildad, sabiendo que Dios enaltece a los humildes.

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Deanna G. Bartalini, M.Ed.; M.P.A., is a certified spiritual director, writer, speaker and content creator. The LiveNotLukewarm.com online community is a place to inform, engage and inspire your Catholic faith. Her weekly Not Lukewarm Podcast gives you tips and tools to live out your faith in your daily life.

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The views and opinions expressed in the Inspiration Daily blog are solely those of the original authors and contributors. These views and opinions do not necessarily represent those of Diocesan, the Diocesan staff, or other contributors to this blog.

Repent – Judgement or an Invitation? / Arrepentirse: ¿juicio o una invitaciĂ³n?

They had it coming, right? Those Galileans and the poor chaps standing too close to the tower in Siloam? At the time of Jesus, that was the understanding: be holy and good things happen to you; be less than holy and look out for falling towers. But Jesus, once again, turned their understanding on its ear.

Were these Galileans greater sinners? No. Were the eighteen who died when the tower fell more guilty than everyone else? No. And then it gets harder to hear: “if you do not repent”, He warns them, – ready or not – “you will all perish as they did”. Just as he urges them to repent, He urges us to also.

The call to repentance is not one we like to hear, and it’s not one we generally believe we need. That other guy over there, clearly, he needs to repent, but I’m good, right? 

The word “sin” is a loaded one. Calling something a “sin” is often seen as harsh and condescending rather than what it is – anything that pulls us away from God, that draws our attention downward into ourselves, or has a negative effect on our relationship with God. That “offense against reason, truth, and right conscience,” that “failure in genuine love for God and neighbor caused by a perverse attachment to certain goods” (CCC 1849) has a name; it is called sin. It is no more a judgement for you to call my selfishness a sin than it is for you to call broccoli a vegetable. It simply is what it is. And, since sin “wounds the nature of man and injures human solidarity” (CCC 1849), it seems like a good idea to recognize it.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus urges us to stop looking to the sins of those around us and instead recognize our own roadblocks and challenges. His call to change is difficult, but in the next breath our Savior offers hope; he offers a parable on mercy. 

The gardener steps in to champion the fruitless fig tree. He asks for time to cultivate the soil around it, to fertilize the soil, and to urge from the tree new fruit. “Repent,” he seems to urge the fig tree. Surrender your heart to the care of the gardener and bear good fruit.

As long as we draw breath there is always time to turn our hearts toward the Son and grow. Whether our obstacles are large or small, grappling with each is a tilling of the soil, a tilling of the soul, that will make our lives richer and more abundant. Repent, not because you’re a bad, hopeless tree, but because you were created to be so much more. 

By admitting that we struggle with sin, we can recognize it for what it is and take the first steps toward breaking free of it. The call to repentance is not a judgement of how horrible we are but rather an invitation to become as glorious as we are intended to be.

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Se lo merecían, ¿verdad? ¿Esos galileos y los pobres hombres que estaban demasiado cerca de la torre de Siloé? En tiempos de Jesús, ese era el entendimiento: sean santos y les sucederán cosas buenas; sean menos santos y tengan cuidado con las torres que se caen. Pero Jesús, una vez más, volteó su entendimiento de las cosas.

¿Eran estos galileos peores pecadores? No. ¿Eran los dieciocho que murieron cuando la torre cayó más culpables que los demás? No. Y luego se hace más difícil escuchar: “si ustedes no se arrepienten”, les advierte, estén listos o no, “perecerán de manera semejante”. Así como los insta a arrepentirse, nos insta a nosotros también.

El llamado al arrepentimiento no es algo que nos guste escuchar, y no es uno que generalmente creamos que necesitamos. Ese otro hombre por allá, claramente, necesita arrepentirse, pero yo estoy bien, ¿verdad?

La palabra “pecado” tiene un significado pesado. Llamar a algo “pecado” a menudo se percibe como algo duro y condescendiente, en lugar de lo que es: cualquier cosa que nos aleja de Dios, que nos lleva a centrarnos en nosotros mismos o que tiene un efecto negativo en nuestra relación con Dios. Esa “falta contra la razón, la verdad, la recta conciencia; es faltar al amor verdadero para con Dios y para con el prójimo a causa de un apego perverso a ciertos bienes” (CIC 1849) tiene un nombre: se llama pecado. No es un juicio que llames pecado a mi egoísmo, como tampoco lo es que llames al brócoli una verdura. Simplemente es lo que es. Y, dado que el pecado “[h]iere la naturaleza del hombre y atenta contra la solidaridad humana” (CIC 1849), parece buena idea reconocerlo.

En el Evangelio de hoy, Jesús nos insta a dejar de fijarnos en los pecados de quienes nos rodean y, en cambio, a reconocer nuestros propios obstáculos y desafíos. Su llamado a cambiar es difícil, pero a continuación nuestro Salvador ofrece esperanza; ofrece una parábola sobre la misericordia. 

El jardinero interviene para defender a la higuera infructuosa. Pide tiempo para cultivar la tierra que la rodea, fertilizarla y obtener nuevos frutos del árbol. “Arrepiéntete”, parece instar a la higuera. Entrega tu corazón al cuidado del jardinero y darás buen fruto.

Mientras respiremos, siempre hay tiempo para volver nuestro corazón hacia el Hijo y crecer. Sean grandes o pequeños nuestros obstáculos, lidiar con cada uno es labrar la tierra, labrar el alma, que enriquecerá y hará nuestras vidas más abundantes. Arrepiéntete, no porque seas un árbol malo y sin esperanza, sino porque fuiste creado para ser mucho más.

Al admitir que luchamos con el pecado, podemos reconocerlo por lo que es y dar los primeros pasos para liberarnos de él. El llamado al arrepentimiento no es un juicio de lo horribles que somos, sino una invitación a alcanzar la gloria que estamos destinados a alcanzar.

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Pamela Kavanaugh is a grateful wife, mother, and grandmother who has dedicated her professional life to Catholic education. Though she has done her very best to teach her students well in the subjects of language and religion, she knows that she has learned more than she has taught. She lives, teaches, and writes in southwest suburban Chicago.

Feature Image Credit: Monse Olmos, pexels.com/photo/close-up-of-a-fig-on-a-branch-14448477/

The views and opinions expressed in the Inspiration Daily blog are solely those of the original authors and contributors. These views and opinions do not necessarily represent those of Diocesan, the Diocesan staff, or other contributors to this blog.