Whole-hearted Commitment

Discipleship might be described as “whole-hearted commitment.” In Luke’s gospel we read, “Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.” Jesus insists on three conditions for discipleship. Subordinating everything to commitment to him, including the closest of family ties, is the first. Bearing the suffering that comes with following him is the second. And the third is the relinquishment of all possessions.

What keeps us from being able to whole-heartedly follow Jesus? How do we make following Jesus the center of our lives, a priority above all else? What possesses us and what do we need to leave behind to love the Lord fully? When we reflect on our lives, what do we value most? Do we value things or people more than we value the Lord?

I found this song a perfect ending to my own reflection on this week’s readings.

Pride vs. Humility

“Everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.” My notion of humility has changed over the years. As I reflect on my life experience, I realize that I used to think that humility was about being submissive and unseen, low key, and lowly. More recently I found a poster illustrating the difference between Pride and Humility. What it said is this:

How do you define humility? Why do you think that humility is such a significant virtue for a Christian?

With faith, effort and the help of God, all of us can grow in humility, in that change of heart that our Scripture readings for this weekend invite us to. Take the time to pray and ask for the “gift” of humility.

Do I Know You?

Limited offer, a narrow opportunity, seize the moment—these are expressions we often hear in marketing, especially when there is pressure to buy something or consume something. In our Gospel this weekend, the limited opportunity referred to is how we make our way into the Kingdom of God. What does it mean that Jesus says we must enter by the “narrow gate?” Will we, like those in this Gospel, hear Jesus say, “I do not know where you are from.” What if he stopped with the words, “I do not know you.”

When I joined the Sisters of Divine Providence by “entering the convent,” my brothers used to brag to their friends that they had it made to get into heaven because their sister was a nun. I would laugh and say, “You’re on your own there, buddy!” Imagine others saying, “You knew me, Jesus, a number of years ago when I made my First Holy Communion,” or, “my grandmother surely prayed me into your loving embrace.” There is no back door. There is no entitlement, but rather a clear, narrow focus on our relationship with Jesus.

So what will it take for us to make time for Jesus in our lives, to have a solid, real relationship? How will we provide opportunities for Jesus to know us?

Perhaps it will take some discipline—a social media sabbatical or a screenless Sunday, as one of my friends whose profession is in mental health suggested in a meeting this week. Turning off cell phones and other electronics gives us the freedom to be more attentive to God, to each other and to nature. We might discover the art of conversation again. We might come to know each other in new ways, see things we didn’t see before. We might re-discover Jesus!

We often sing “Christ be my vision” at Mass. Let this be our mantra this week.

Lord, Help Us!

Those of us who pray the Liturgy of the Hours are very familiar with the opening dialogue: “O Lord, come to our assistance. O Lord, make haste to help us.” And I am pretty sure that each of us cries out “Lord, help us” quite often these days. In each case, we are acknowledging our dependence on God’s help! Perhaps we are dealing with beginning of school busyness and anxieties. Perhaps we are experiencing divisions at work or in our families. Perhaps we can’t stand to watch the “news” anymore because what we see and hear is so depressing.

And then this weekend we hear the words of Jesus in the Gospel. “Do you suppose that I am here to bring peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division. For from now on a household of five will be divided: three against two and two against three; the father divided against the son, son against father, mother against daughter, daughter against mother, mother-in-law against daughter-in-law, daughter-in-law against mother-in-law.”

What? More division? Jesus is reminding us that following him is not easy. When we answer the call to be disciples, to be Christian in word and deed, this sometimes stirs up anger and resentment in family and friends. Sometimes we even wonder how we hear or read the same Gospel and make excuses for our attitudes, beliefs, and behaviors that are really quite different from what we would expect. To do what Jesus would do—to change oppressive structures, norms, expectations, views of women, strangers, lepers—is to follow a very different and difficult path. It led to Jesus’ crucifixion. For us, the change might be the fire, the one that is to set the earth on fire. We may want to take an easy way out—call it political, none of our business, too hard or expect someone else to do it. Most of the persons and communities that have been responsible for real change realized that the sure way to find peace was in God, not in humankind.

When has living the gospel put me at odds with another person or them at odds with me?

What keeps me from speaking the truth in love when I feel called to do so?

And so we pray: Provident and all-powerful God, you share your light of truth and passionately call us to transform our world. Guide our efforts to live our faith zealously, with fiery passion. Through Christ and with Christ our Lord’s assistance and aid. Amen!

Encountering the Thief

Locked and secure! That’s how we like to describe our peace and security, right? This week’s gospel tells us about what it is like for Jesus to break and enter into our hearts, yes, to steal our hearts. We usually hear this gospel proclaimed at funerals. “Be prepared.”  “Keep your lamps lit.” And we usually think that this is about our being prepared for death, for the final breaking into our hearts and uniting us completely, totally with God’s life—something we anticipate all of our lives.

However, I think that God’s thievery happens all the time. It happens when we are moved to compassion at the sight of anyone suffering needlessly, at the sight of lovers in their 90’s, at the sight of a child going to sit next to someone who is sitting alone at school. If we pay attention, I think we can see that kind of breaking in and entering into our hearts all around us. That’s what I anticipate the coming of the kingdom is like.

That’s exactly what we all need these days in the face of disrespect and even hatred, for those who are different from us. We need breaking and entering, and disarming—not in relationship to possessions and property—but in our connectedness to ALL of God’s creation.

I don’t know about you, but I am praying for God’s breaking in to the chaos of this world. I know that this kind of breaking in will not be violent or destructive. But it will be merciful, loving, and full of tender service! Lord, hear our prayer and move us to ACTION! It begins with me, with my attitude and my action. The Christophers always talked about the power of lighting one little candle.