Catholic

Sheep from Montpelier 2021

What a shepherd does

We continue in our mini retreat using A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23 by Phillip Keller who notes the shift in address within the psalm. The first portion almost sounds like the sheep is boasting to a different flock of how wonderful his shepherd is. Now, the sheep turns and addresses the shepherd to acknowledge all He does.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me

What makes a valley? Land that is between higher ground is called a valley, and many times it has been carved out by streams of water. These streams feed the vegetation in the valley area and are a wonderful source of food for an itinerant flock. The higher ground that surrounds a valley can cast long shadows and hide watchful predators. An experienced shepherd is always watchful, scanning both the sheep and the landscape. The shepherd chooses these valleys as the path to the summer feeding ground at the height of the hills or mountains. He is patient and persistent in allowing the sheep to graze, but not linger too long. It’s a slow trek up the valley to the higher ground, allowing little lambs to keep up with their ewes. 

Reflecting on this line, the author points out, “It does not say I die there, or stay there — but rather, ‘I walk through.’” The Christian life parallels a flock of sheep making its way up to the best feeding grounds at the highest point in the area, which equates to heaven. God is always with us, watchful and protective. The author also says, “[death] is not something to fear, but an experience through which one passes on the path to a more perfect life.” On our journey from the valley floor up to the mountain height, we will be in shadow and we will be in sunshine. Each moment God as the Good Shepherd accompanies us, allowing some grazing while keeping us moving forward.

Your rod and your staff comfort me 

The shepherd’s rod is like a club, used for protection. It is often made by the shepherd so that it fits him perfectly and becomes an extension of him. It can also be used to examine the body of a sheep separating the wool to see to the skin for injury, disease, or parasites. The author equates it to the Word of God, which demonstrates God’s authority and power. It is also what we use to examine our lives so that we can seek out healing when we repent of our sins. 

The iconic shepherd’s staff is a crooked stick that shepherds wield in many helpful ways. When newborn lambs stray from their mothers, the crook can be used to scoop them up and return them, so that the scent of the shepherd does not rub off on the lamb and risk rejection from the ewe. Often when slowly moving sheep, the shepherd is towards the back of the sheep to make sure all are moving. Yet the staff, when stretched out and applied with gentle pressure to the side of the sheep, nudges them in the correct direction. It’s not a whip, it is not used to strike the sheep, but rather is used for encouragement and is comforting in that the sheep know they are moving on the right path. Even when correcting sheep to move them away from a poisonous plant, it is gently applied.

When we reflect on our life experiences, we can see the times when God has nudged us in one direction or another, or maybe even just to get going! We sheep should not fear the simple tools of the Shepherd, but rather appreciate His skillful use to keep us safe on our journey.

You set a table before me in front of my enemies

The best pasture land is the summer pastures high above the surrounding area. Often these plateaux are called mesas — the Spanish word for table. Yet a shepherd is diligent before the flock arrives, making several journeys up to inspect and prepare it. The observant shepherd removes the poisonous plants as well as cleans natural debris from the watering holes, ensuring the flow of water is not hampered. He also plans out how he will move the flock from location to location through the summer months. Yet the danger from predators is never far away. Cougars and wolves will watch from a distance to strike at the right moment to cause a stampede or to snatch a sheep wandering too far from the shepherd.

Even in the best of times we, too, need to stay vigilant, but more so, to stay close to Christ. The best way to do this is participating at the grandest table we have on earth: the altar at Mass. It is at this table that Jesus feeds us with Himself. The Eucharist is the foretaste of what’s to come when we reach the heavenly banquet.

These lines of the psalm are spoken by one with experience, who has witnessed what the Good Shepherd has done in his life. As we learn more about the responsibilities of a shepherd here on earth, we realize just how much God is constantly doing for us, even when we do wander a bit away from Him.

Sheep from Montpelier 2021

A shepherd’s care

Continuing to review A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23 by Phillip Keller, it is evident that sheep need a lot of care and a good shepherd will be watchful of his flock. With each example of a shepherd’s care, we can see how much God cares for us likewise.

To still waters he leads me 

While sheep can do well in arid climates, they still do require hydration. However, they can eat their water. Sheep naturally arise before sunrise and want to graze on the dew-laden grass. This is perfect for them to get both food and water at the same time. Then, when the sun is at its peak and the day it at its hottest, the sheep will lay down in shade and ruminate. However, sheep are also habitual creatures, and even with abundant liquid, they may seek out the same pool of water again and again, until it is a muddy, parasite-infested puddle that’s not fit to drink, and even then they will drink it. While the consequences of drinking that horrid water may not immediately be experienced, they can be deadly. 

This line poses a question for our response to God and His gifts to us. He pours out the water of life to us in the Church, the sacraments, and His sacred Word. How do we respond to these gifts? Do we seek to spend time with Him early in the morning, so that we can reflect on His Word and graces throughout the day? Or do we seek muddy pools of water, ignoring the toxicity it contains for our spiritual eternity?

He restores my soul 

In this chapter Keller talks about a sheep that is “cast down.” At face value, it sounds like something within the social order of the flock, when in reality it’s actually what can happen to an individual sheep for several reasons. While a sheep can lay down, it is imperative they do not roll over. A sheep on its back will be a dead sheep, with the timing depending on the weather. A sheep cannot right itself, it is at the mercy of an attentive shepherd, who is always scanning the flock to make sure each is accounted for. A sheep may end up cast down when the ground it lays on is uneven, when a sheep has too much wool, or when a sheep is too fat. Ewes that are heavily pregnant can be vulnerable to this condition. The only cure is for a shepherd to find the sheep, turn it over, help it to stand, and massage its legs until the blood flow is sufficient for it to stand on its own. 

Just like a cast down sheep, no one can heal their own soul. They must allow the Good Shepherd to attend to them. Do we allow Jesus to care of our souls? Or do we wildly kick and thrash in our state of sin so that He cannot get close enough to turn us over? Too many times we helplessly bleat our condition to God only to prevent Him from helping us. Sometimes that means He may move us to another pasture where the ground doesn’t have as many hollow indentations. He may also shear the wool growth to reduce the risk of our repeat offense. Or He may change up our diet to keep us at a healthy weight. Each one of these actions may feel like a punishment at the time, but the reality is that He is restoring our souls back to life.

He guides me along right paths for the sake of His name

A good shepherd is always on the move with his flock. While the first portion of this line should be enough to convey the health of the sheep, it is the second portion that stands out. A shepherd is known by the health of his flock and the management of his land; it is his reputation on the line if he does not keep a watchful eye on the sheep. But it’s not enough to just watch over them. A shepherd needs to make sure the sheep have new opportunities to graze. Depending on the location and circumstances, this moving around could be weekly or daily. If sheep graze in one location too long, they destroy the land, which also means they feed less and wind up weak and diseased. While some sheep are excited to go to new grazing opportunities, others may stubbornly try to return to their previous location to continue eating where they were accustomed to doing so. 

How many times do we return to barren wastelands to graze instead of trusting in God to move us to better pastures? From the moment the serpent spoke to Eve, the tendency towards wanting to be in control remains ingrained in humanity. We want to choose what we want to do and when we do it. It’s hard to relinquish control to God to let Him lead us. Yet if we claim that God is our shepherd, that is exactly what we are meant to do.

God does care for us like a Good Shepherd. As we reflect on what that has looked like in our lives in the past, let us also be mindful in the present of our response to His care and allow Him to be what we claim Him to be. 

Sheep from Montpelier 2021

Lambing season

I may only officially follow one Scottish crofter on Instagram, but once you interact positively with one type of content, the algorithm eagerly provides more, in between ads of course. Since it’s lambing season, I’m not complaining, as I love to see all the tiny lambs and hear their baby baaa’s. But it’s not just in the physical world that we celebrate lambs, spiritually we celebrate the glory of the Paschal Lamb, Jesus Christ. 

A woman in my Bible study lent me a book she thought I’d enjoy, after I had mentioned my hobbies of spinning wool and knitting and weaving with it. The Holy Spirit has prompted me that now is a good time to read it. It’s called A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23 by Phillip Keller. The copyright is older than I am by a year, so I have no idea if it’s still in print or not. Most people know this psalm, if not by heart they could at least paraphrase most of it. As the psalm is only 6 verses, I was surprised to see 12 chapters in the book. My goal is to read a few chapters each week and reflect on them. She was right that I would like it; had it been my own book, I probably would have highlighted every other sentence.

The Lord is my shepherd

A whole chapter on only part of the first verse? Yes, and wow, what a chapter. Reading it at face value, it seems sweet enough, conjuring up a sense of coziness with the divine. Being human, we often read that relationship from our point of view, namely that we choose God. But that’s not what it means. It means that God has chosen us. And not just that he chose us, but that He owns us. That is one of the words the author uses: owns. Let that wash over you for a minute. Do you feel outraged? How dare He! But when you look at that from a shepherd’s perspective, He that owns the sheep is responsible for them, totally and completely. From disagreements within the flock, and protection from vicious predators, to adequate shelter and the proper food, the shepherd takes care of all the needs of the sheep. What this portion of the verse conveys is that we acknowledge our relationship to God. We are not claiming God, but joyfully, restfully, and peacefully submitting to His care.

Another point the author makes is through the recall of the memory of when he bought his first flock of ewes. A fellow rancher handed him a knife to make those sheep truly his. This was done by cutting a unique notch in the ear of the sheep. Each rancher had his own, it’s how they could tell who owned which sheep if they ended up mixed in with another flock. His first task as the owner was to cause them pain, to cause their blood to flow. While he knew it had to be done, it was not a task he wanted to do. One by one he captured each sheep and made his mark. They were his, under his care and he was going to do everything he could for the health and well being of the flock. Spiritually, it’s the opposite for us. It’s Jesus who shed His blood on our behalf to wash us of our sins. The mark He leaves on us in Baptism and Confirmation is the sign of the cross in water and oil. Yet the power of the relationship through the sacraments is far stronger than any cut in our flesh.   

I shall not want

While the author acknowledges that this verse can be interpreted in a straightforward manner, there are proactive steps that the shepherd takes so that the sheep are not in want. A shepherd cares for his sheep on a daily basis and knows each one. Because of the familiarity, the shepherd can identify when a sheep may not be feeling well, is injured, or is bothered with parasites and can take immediate action. He talks about scanning the sheep at the beginning of the day, taking inventory of each one, not just to identify that it’s present and part of the flock, but of its whole health. If we pray this portion of the psalm, do we open ourselves up for God to do the same with us? Or are we claiming that God is our shepherd while we’re off seeking how to get through the fence to whatever is on the other side? At one of the sheep and wool festivals I attended, I remember seeing a sheep in a temporary pen that had lots of green grass and little flowers to eat. But the one sheep was stretching out her neck as far as she could trying to reach a flower that was outside of the pen, even though there were plenty within it. God takes care of all our needs, but are we content to be satisfied with how he provisions us? 

In green pastures he makes me lie down

This chapter was a fascinating lesson as to what it takes for a sheep to lie down. This is no small feat! Basically the only way a sheep will lie down is when its belly is full and has absolutely nothing to fear. While the first one may be more easily achieved, the lack of fear is quite the balancing act. Sheep know they are prey animals, so it takes a lot for them to feel comfortable. Anything can set the flock running to the other side of the pasture. And it’s also a battle with nature itself, protecting them from parasites as well as unpredictable predators. If a shepherd is able to keep those natural elements at bay, well then there are the sheep themselves, or rather their personalities. Just like humans, not all sheep get along nicely with one another. Yet the author noted that sometimes it’s the mere presence of the shepherd that quells any disharmony within the flock. The only way we can truly pray this portion of the psalm’s second verse is when we are in a moment of total peace. For me that would be in Adoration of the Real Presence. But we don’t need to wait until we are in the midst of the Blessed Sacrament. In times that are most stressful, we can pause, put ourselves in the Presence of Christ no matter where we are, and pray this psalm. 

Reading this psalm from a shepherd’s perspective is a great way to celebrate lambing season, since I’ll never experience living with sheep in such an intimate way. I’m only three chapters into this book and it already feels like a mini retreat! It’s also a great reminder that the physical world and the spiritual world parallel each other and if we want to learn more about God, we do so by studying the world He has created. 

Renewed in Christ

Light. Word. Water. Bread. Each element is brought into focus at Easter. Each has a role in renewing us in the Body of Christ, the Church.

Easter is the holiest time in the Church calendar, and rightfully so, since it commemorates Jesus’ triumph over sin and death, bridging humanity with divinity. The Triduum seems to slow down time and each significant moment is celebrated within a liturgy. It starts with Holy Thursday when Jesus instituted not only the sacrament of the Eucharist, but also the sacrament of Holy Orders, as we need priests in order to consecrate the bread and wine into His Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity. On Good Friday we recall the Passion and Death of Jesus, remembering that it is our sins that He took upon Himself for the love of us. Like Peter, we grieve for the times we have sinned against God and denied Him and His Commandments. God can make good come of anything and He proves it by allowing the death of His Son, so that He can raise Him back to life.

The Easter vigil is a liturgical celebration of salvation history. Beginning with the blessing of fire and the lighting of the Pascal candle — the symbol of the risen Jesus — the procession makes its way into a darkened church. Slowly each person’s candle is lit until the congregation glows. It’s not for theatrics, but rather a physical representation that we are part of the Body of Christ and that we receive our light, our life, our grace from Him. On our own we can do nothing. But through Christ, and by reflecting His light, we can be a light to the world. The Pascal candle will be lit during all Masses throughout the Easter season, and whenever there is a baptism, so that the newly baptized receives the light of Christ when a candle is lit from the Pascal candle and given to them.  

The Liturgy of the Word starts at creation and through the various Old Testament readings recalls the exodus from Egypt which includes the crossing of the sea, and proclamations by the prophets, reminding us that God works throughout history. And then there is the Gloria. After the readings from the Old Testament, it is only fitting that we are reminded in joyous song with bells ringing of the coming of Jesus into human history. We sing the message the angels gave to the shepherds and praise God for sending us His Son. While normally the Gloria is sung before any of the readings, this placement is jarring and meant to be so. Having it at a different place in the Mass gives it a significance to match the solemnity of the moment. A reading from an epistle and the gospel follow the Gloria, but there is much more of the Word to be celebrated.

If there are catechumens present, the sacraments of Baptism and Confirmation are celebrated at this time. However, even without any newly elect coming into the Church, we recall our own sacraments of initiation by renewing our baptismal promises. We reject Satan and profess our faith. The newly blessed water is then sprinkled upon the whole congregation. Like the flood and the crossing of sea, the chaos of water is tamed and used to refresh our souls. The Liturgy of the Eucharist then commences, the first time since Holy Thursday night. Bread and wine are again consecrated into the sacred Body and Blood of Jesus. As the last sacrament of initiation, the newly baptized and confirmed are the first to receive and complete their entrance into the living Church. 

For those who attend Mass on Easter Sunday, the celebration is shorter with the regular number of readings, but we still see the Pascal candle, renew our baptismal promises, receive the sprinkling of water, and participate in the breaking of the bread. Each element: light, word, water, and bread, is a celebration of our life in Christ. This celebration is much too big to be confined into one day, so the Church celebrates for 50 days, through the feasts of the Ascension of Jesus into heaven and Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit came upon the Apostles.

Alleluia! He is Risen! Let us celebrate and renew ourselves to Christ.

The good thief

A portion of my parish’s Lenten retreat this year focused on the account of the good thief. In only four verses, there’s so much theology packed in there, and much to ponder for ourselves as well.

Most people are familiar with Luke’s account of the so-called good thief (Lk 23:39-43), one of the criminals that was crucified next to Jesus. Luke places Jesus between two men that are receiving the same sentence as He is. One of them shows no sorrow or remorse and becomes an instrument of Satan’s temptation of Jesus in His final moments. “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us,” he calls out to Jesus. (Lk 23:39) The retreat leader pointed out that the man does not ask to be saved first, but rather secondarily. He indicated this is a sign that the call for Jesus to save Himself is not merely from the criminal, but from Satan himself, tempting Him in these last hours. Jesus’ ministry started out with being tempted for 40 days in the desert. Luke even indicates, “When the devil had finished every temptation, he departed from him for a time.” (Lk4:13) I’ve often wondered why it was written or translated like that, but when the leader pointed out the unusual phrasing, it totally makes sense! After all, if you were perishing, wouldn’t you ask Jesus to save you first?

In pondering the exchange between the thieves, I see it as a battle we all have within us as we address our concerns to God. On one hand we call out to God to save us, but instead of asking, we command Him to do so. He is the Messiah, we expect Him to do His job and save us from whatever challenge we are facing at the moment. Then there is the good thief, who reprimands the other one and acknowledges his crimes and the punishment he deserves. He does not ask Jesus to be removed from the hardship or consequences, even when they mean he will die. Instead, he simply asks to be remembered. Did he know what he was asking for? Did he hope to be spared the gruesome death? Or was he truly acknowledging God could do anything, and whatever God could do for him, would more than satisfy him? Do we pray with the same faith and trust in God? Do we allow God to work through whatever circumstances we are in to bring about a greater good? Do we see that hardship can be a stage for God’s mercies and miracles? 

There is a whole song composed of the famous line of faith that the good thief uttered: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” (Lk 23:42) Both thieves acknowledged that Jesus was more than just a man. However, it was the good thief who accepted Jesus as his King. He accepted Jesus’ judgement of him. In the thief’s final hours, he was living as a man converted, not just one who acknowledges the Divine, but one who accepts all that He bestows. The Christian life is meant to be one of putting that same acceptance into practice. And that’s why the emphasis is on practice, since it’s not something that always comes easily. Too many times we try to order God to do what we think is best for the situation or for ourselves, forgetting that God knows all and can determine what is better for us throughout our lifetime on earth and what will lead us to heaven. Sometimes we do need to go through painful situations that we don’t understand the why of it happening. But even if death is the worst consequence, Jesus has already conquered it. The only thing worse than death would be eternity without God. 

It is easy for us to read this 2,000 years later and forget that the good thief didn’t know about Jesus’ resurrection. He didn’t know the ending, but he trusted in Jesus anyway. Did he understand Jesus’ response to him indicating he would be in Paradise? Or was it merely that Jesus responded positively to him, that he was able to make peace with his circumstances? I am truly amazed at the man’s trust in God. Why do we still struggle with trusting Jesus when we know the glorious ending? 

I want to be like the good thief. Not only because he goes to heaven, but because he has such amazing faith and trust in God, and is not ashamed to proclaim that truth to others. He accepts not only the consequences of his actions, but also that Jesus is King. I pray that we all may live out our days with the same faith, trust, and action that he demonstrated on the cross next to Jesus. 

In their own eyes

I just finished a Bible study on the book of Judges. This book is definitely not for the faint of heart. Ugly and messy are two polite ways to describe the activities that occur throughout the book. Yet if one didn’t know it was from the Bible, one could think it was a recount of the news of today.

There are a few repeated phrases throughout Judges. Early on it states, “And the sons of Israel did what was evil in the sight of the Lord.” (Judg. 2:11) This phrase is used seven times throughout the first 13 chapters, until the account of Samson. The latter portion of the text switches the phase to, “In those days there was no king in Israel; every man did what was right in his own eyes.” (Judg. 17:6) While this phrase is used half as much as the first, it is also the very last line of the book, Judg. 21:25. What does a king have to do with how the people act? That is an interesting question to ponder, and since the phrase pops up several times, it does tend to get stuck in one’s brain.

The account of Judges recalls how, as the Israelites succumbed to the practices of their neighbors instead of following the law Moses received, then the people would fall under the rule of various nations only to cry out to God and be rescued by a person God elevated, a judge. It seemed each time the people fell into sin, it was worse than previous generations. While He did allow them to experience the consequences of their actions, yet God continued to rescue them when they called out to Him. The people were to look upon God as their king and leader, however, each settled within their own tribal land, and their living seemed to be more fractured, especially those who lived among the existing inhabitants. Samson is the last, great judge and thus the shift from just stating the observation that the people were living in an evil manner to the lack of a king heralds that the change is coming. 

The book of Judges is not written at the time of the events, but afterwards, since it is alluding to the kingdom of Israel. A king is a centralized leader, seen as the chief conduit for God on earth. He enforces the laws based on the common understanding that the whole of Israel believes in. God’s moral laws are the foundation for the laws in Israel, and the kings — especially David — united the people under the shared values. While David did sin against God, he also repented and was forgiven. It’s his sons that strayed very far from God’s commandments, which ended with the exile of both the kingdom of Israel as well as the portion that broke off. Having a king did not solve the issue of Israel disobeying God’s commandments; the reiterated phrase underscores the lack of a centralized leader results in man choosing his own way.

Violence and sexual misbehavior are key themes within the various stories comprising Judges. We see similar things in our own time, as many people are choosing to do what is right in their eyes. Not having a centralized moral law leads people to play God and determine their own “right” and “wrong” ways. Instead of a solid, shared code of conduct, the Israelites often used the pagan examples of their neighbors, resulting in a hybrid form of worship that includes both pagan prayers and practices alongside the traditional Jewish ones. It can be easy to look at a micro level down to one family and not think of that situation being an issue, but read in the context of the whole Israelite community, each sin caused a ripple effect throughout the nation. 

God, in the form of Jesus, is our king. He writes His law upon our hearts. It is up to us to choose life and blessings or death and curses by either obeying or disobeying His commandments. As we are about to enter Holy Week, where does our loyalty lie? How has our Lenten practices changed our outlook? Do we seek to do God’s will or are we looking to do what is right “in our own eyes?”

Vainglory

As I was recently listening to a Lenten reflection, one of the words used caught my ear and stuck in my head: vainglory. What a fascinatingly descriptive word! 

While I know I’ve heard the term before, it’s not used in regular parlance today. However, perhaps we should bring it back and use it, since its synonym is rather charged in a secular way. Pride, at least from a cultural perspective, is not a sin, but rather something to be flaunted, especially in regards to alternative values. Yet vainglory paints a picture of how our desires can lead us to sin. All glory should be given to God, as He made us with all the skills and talents we have. Even if we put hard work into accomplishing something, God still gets the glory, as we are a reflection of His creation. We can appreciate and celebrate our accomplishments, but need to practice humility in the praise we receive.

According to Merriam-Webster, the definition for vainglory is, “excessive or ostentatious pride especially in one’s achievements.” Reflecting on what it is doesn’t go deep enough, we also need to reflect on how much we have acted in such a way. It can be easy to deny that we behaved like that, but the sin of vainglory is not just an action, it’s also a driver of our actions. Are we doing things because we will be recognized for what we do or say? We could be doing many good deeds, but if we do them to impress others, or for them to be favorable to us, then we lose out on the grace we could receive in doing the kind acts for the sake of God and neighbor. 

A person who acts with vainglory, seeks honor and praise for themself. However, the drive for glory could be through many different methods: like money, power, or gossip. Perhaps one wants to be the person everyone at work goes to, because they can get the answer to any question. One may say that they’re just helping their fellow employees, but when folks praise their efforts, it’s hard not to make the praise become why one does it. Thus when we receive a compliment, we should immediately thank God ourselves and pass along the praise to Him.  

The stumbling block with vainglory is that it is tied to our hearts and our desires. But like any sin, in order to combat it, we first need to be aware of it. Perhaps we reflect daily or weekly on our actions, or maybe just one at a time, and ponder what prompted us to do or say whatever it is we’re reflecting on. If we can start to recognize when we act out of haste, so as to not to think about why we’re doing something, we can then determine if our intentions were for our own glory. This reflection doesn’t necessarily mean we stop, only that we ask God to lead us and guide us in determining if it is His will and to thank Him afterwards, especially if we have received compliments. 

As we journey through these last weeks of Lent, let us remember the humility Jesus showed in all events of His Passion, Death, and Resurrection. It is Jesus who is our Savior and all glory and praise go to Him, since we can only partake of heaven due His efforts. And He did it for, and through, Love for us, not for the glory we give Him. 

Shared sufferings

Who wants to suffer? Really. If someone asked you if you had a choice between suffering and not, would you choose to suffer? 

During Lent, Catholics are encouraged to practice praying, penance, and almsgiving, and through these, we are to make a sacrifice of ourselves. A sacrifice is to give up or lose something of value, which for me would indicate some sort of suffering. If the sacrifice was valuable, then to give it up would impose a pain or a hardship for at least a brief time. Yet sometimes our sacrifices are more for our own benefit. Since we get to choose what we sacrifice, we can mitigate the suffering it entails. The Church asks us to abstain from eating meat on Fridays, but do we instead use it as an opportunity to splurge on lobster, crab, or scallops instead? Do we wait until we account for all our bills for the month and then any leftover funds are used to give alms? Or do we pay attention to what we are purchasing and for superfluous items consider giving that amount to charity instead? Do we actively pray to forgive those who we find issues with, be it a family member, a coworker, or a politician in the news? 

This month the Magnificat devotional I use is profiling saints who received the stigmata for the saint of the day. Some saints are well known to have received it, like St. Francis of Assisi and Padre Pio of Pietrelcina. One that caught my attention was St. Rita of Cascia who received a wound of a thorn from the crown of thorns. She meditated upon and felt close to the sufferings of Jesus even before receiving this share in His sufferings. It makes me wonder if I’m a product of my generation where we seek comfort and convenience and avoid any type of suffering. I can’t imagine asking Jesus to participate in His sufferings. While I attempt to accept the sufferings that I encounter in my own life, I often buckle under the weight of it and ask God to relieve me of the burden. I get grumpy and impatient in my struggles, falling far short of the ideal these saints demonstrate.

In this season when we do focus much more on the Passion of Jesus, we may look with sympathy and appreciation that He suffered to be our Savior. Yet have you ever imagined if Jesus asked you to participate in that suffering, what would you choose? Would it be the constant weeping of blood from hands, feet, and/or side? Would it be the pain from the lashings of the Roman soldiers? Perhaps like St. Rita, would it be the agony of the crown? Maybe it would be a shoulder sore from the rubbing of the rough wood and the weight of the cross beam. Our sufferings in daily life cannot be compared to the suffering of Jesus, but we can offer them to Jesus as a share in His. He walks with us no matter what we are going through. When we fully trust in Him we can walk with Him, even in the most painful of circumstances, since it is only through the great Passion and Death that we can celebrate the Resurrection.

Comfort in chains

Lent is a wonderful time to dig deeper into the sins that we find… well comfortable. These are habitual sins that we are so used to, sometimes we cannot even see them as sins. 

In this time of focus, even though we still go about our daily lives, Lent provides us an opportunity to seek out one sin that keeps rupturing our relationship with God. Sin is always a choice. It’s also something of grave matter, although humans are really good at justifying what constitutes grave matter from their perspective. Let’s use the example of gossip. It’s very easy in a conversation to listen or to repeat information about others that should not be shared. What’s the harm in that, you may ask? It is an injustice of that person’s dignity. It may seem like a trifle passing, but it shapes the way we perceive that person. It can also lead us to passing an unfounded judgement on them, especially if the information ends up not being true. Even the smallest sin of listening to gossip can lead to greater ones, and starts a slow turn away from God. 

We may have started out Lent with wanting to practice a particular sacrifice or prayer routine, but how often have we kept it up? Since we’re just 2 weeks into Lent, maybe it has been fruitful since it’s still new. As we progress further into the season, these new practices will become harder. It may be that we have a break in the momentum and fail to keep up our practice. Does that mean we throw in the towel and hope we can do it next year? No! We begin again. And we begin again. We keep restarting all through Lent (and maybe beyond!). These practices are supposed to develop us so that we can be more open with God. When we slide back on what we committed to, we’re basically telling the Father, who gave us everything we have, that He’s not important enough for us to try harder. 

It can seem easy to say that for the course of Lent we’re going to spend more time in reflection using a Lenten booklet or one of the many podcasts available. Are we choosing these items because they are easy and will fit into our lives? Or are we choosing them because they will allow us to get closer to God? Even if we have started with one of these practices, diving into deeper reflection to identify what continually turns us away from God is a pursuit well worth taking. There may be many more comfortable sins than we’re able or want to admit. But if we use the sensitivity that we already practice in making sure we abstain from meat on Fridays and fast on Good Friday, we may be able to find where we fall short of being truly connected with God. We can’t do it alone, however, so praying for the grace to see the most comfortable, habitual sin we have in order to identify when we choose it and avoid those circumstances.  

Habitual sins are comfortable for us, yet they keep us chained to ourselves, relying on ourselves, and not seeking out God. With the month or so we have left, which is plenty of time, let us ask God what is the sin that we need His help the most in addressing. It will require us to step outside of our comfort zone, but we also may find ourselves free to turn to God, to run to Him, and to become comfortable leaning on God.

The road home

For many, the road home can be filled with excitement and joy at the prospect of seeing family and friends. But what was it like for the prodigal son?

The Hallow app has a Lenten reflection that I’ve been following and part of it is about the parable of the prodigal son. One of the first days of reflection included a slow reading of the gospel story, encouraging listeners to really place themselves into the story. What caught my attention was the travel the son had to do in order to return home, and many questions came to my mind.

Lonely. The way home must have felt terribly lonely for the young man. How different it must have been in comparison to when he initially set out. Then his pockets were full of money and promise. In the thrill of excitement, did he realize that he was traveling alone then? Or did he make friends because he could treat others with his inheritance? Yet on the return trip there must have been a heaviness to his spirit, weighed down with his experience and embarrassment at what he was reduced to: a hired hand. Even if he did join up with a band of travellers, did he socialize with them or did he keep his silence? Perhaps he may have hid his feelings behind the stories of his experience, careful to be entertaining but not open enough to share completely.

Confident. The son learned a hard lesson that not everyone treats others as generously as his father did. It took a squandered inheritance to see how incredibly difficult life is. Growing up in the love his father showed, not just for his family, but to all who crossed his path, the boy expected that same treatment from everyone. In that foreign place as a caretaker of pigs, he experienced the harsh reality that others are not nearly as generous as his father. Yet in these deep thoughts, he felt that if he could return home, his father would hire him. Was it because he learned to work hard? Or did he know how much his father loved him and felt that he could not ask to return as a son, but could have a decent life if he asked to be a hired hand? 

Fearful. How much of a struggle was it for the young man to return home? Was he afraid of how his brother and the other hired hands would treat him? How many times did he turn around or at least pause to reconsider if this was the right thing to do? Maybe the question was more like, “what am I thinking?!” Did he travel straight home, or was it more of a meandering journey, dreading the unknown response?   

The story of the prodigal son is our story of how we sin and return to God. Do we find it a lonely path back to God because of the weight of our sins? The parable tells us that the son still had quite a bit of travelling to do when his father spotted him and ran to him. Do we recognize that God is on the look out for our return and wants to run to us and shower us with grace and blessings? Do we have the same confidence of the prodigal son that God will welcome us back? Or do we keep his mercy at a distance because we cannot forgive ourselves? Are we afraid to turn back to God? Do we fear the changes necessary to eliminate sin, especially habitual sins, from our lives? 

Lent is the perfect time to search our hearts and identify what keeps us from truly returning to God. Let the example of the prodigal son lead us to a greater introspection and to celebrate the sacrament of reconciliation with the same depth and joy as the young man received upon his return. The Father is waiting with open arms.