Church of St. Mary at Clinton Heights

04/17/2011

His Passion & Abandonment

It’s very clear in Matthew’s Gospel that Christ’s passion is made so completely sorrowful when we acknowledge that Christ is all alone. From the mensa where Judas leaves Him, to the garden where His companions encourage His isolation as they drift into sleep and He agonizes alone. From the abandonment of Peter in his denials to the cross where all set themselves apart from Him in their jeers and taunts. One of the greatest elements of Christ’s suffering is that He is completely cut off from all others. And as if that were not a deep enough suffering, even His Father isolates His Son when the Lord cries out, “My God, My God, why have you abandoned me?” He is utterly alone.

Yet, this is not a complete picture of the depths of His abandonment. Surely he has been abandoned: the victim of isolation forced upon Him. But our second reading describes it even more completely when St. Paul writes, “Even though He was in the form of God, Jesus did not deem equality with God something to be grasped.” Here we begin to witness Christ’s active abandonment. No longer a victim who is cast off, but He casts Himself off: He leaves His divine stature in order to become man. But there’s more: He emptied Himself and took on our form, yet the form He takes is that of a slave, subjecting Himself to all other men. He has abandoned Himself in this offering, and His isolation is the deepest and purest ‘aloneness’. Thus we are made aware of such agony, such depravity, such utter isolation and abandonment.

It might serve us well to follow Him into abandonment this Holy Week. We have been made keenly aware of our depravity this Lent; and our need for new “light” and new “life” is very apparent. Maybe in order to experience these divine gifts, we will need to abandon ourselves to suffer with Christ, to die in a sense, in order to rise with Him. In this way, we can be isolated near Him…we can be abandoned with Him…not utterly alone, sure, but just ourselves with the Master who suffers with us. And a new, deeper, more intimate bond between ourselves and the Lord can then be forged, and ratified, and made more intense and satisfying.

May each of us have a truly holy Holy Week.

Fr. David

04/10/2011

Belief Strains, …yet Faith Can Still Grow

Today’s second reading from Paul’s letter to the Romans reminds us that our life is a tug-of-war between this physical life and the spiritual life sustained by God’s Spirit. And as we’ve traveled through these first five weeks of Lent, we might need to pause for a moment to reflect on how we’ve been moving.

During our first week, we saw the temptations of Jesus and wondered whether or not we would be able to overcome them ourselves. Then, we caught a glimpse of the glory of the Lord as He was transfigured on Mt. Tabor. Surely, that whet our appetite to cling to Him and stay close…hoping that our nearness would bring us to future glory as well. Then, with the woman of Samaria, we came to know Christ as the font of living water, who is able to slake any hunger or thirst or longing we might have. Last week, we sawwith the new sight of the blind manthat Jesus is a prophet, a healer, …He is one in whom we can place our faith. And this week, we witness the drama unfolding on life’s stage: there is illness, and fear; uncertainty, and death; there is then One with power over life and over death. Yes, lots to reflect on during this season of Lent. So, how have we been moving within ourselves during this season?

If you might not want to answer, consider a few other guides that we hear from this weekend: Martha and Thomas. Clearly a very close, intimate friend of Jesus, Martha is able to state, with confidence, that Jesus is the Lord over life…”Lord, if you had been here my brother would not have died”. And yet isn’t her confidence more intellectual than it is rooted in authentic belief? Sure, she knows well the prophecy told by Ezekiel from today’s first reading, yet she doesn’t believe it can hold true for her brother Lazarus. Within just a few moments, she’s protesting opening Lazarus’ grave because of the four days lapsed. She’s still clinging to the rabbinic tradition that after three days, death has absolutely won and there is no going back to life. Here the Lord responds with His greatest act and Lazarus is raised from the tomb and set free. Martha knows Jesus’ power, yet her belief strains when confronted with suffering and death in this physical world. She wonders whether the Lord Jesus, is truly “Lord of all”.

Or, what of Thomas? A close disciple of the Lord, Thomas has an inkling that if they go to Bethanynear Jerusalemsurely the struggle with authorities will end terribly and Jesus will suffer. And while Thomas encourages the brothers, “let us also go to die with him”, only a few days later, Thomas is the one who cannot and will not believe that Christ has risen from the dead. Only after being presented with concrete evidence is Thomas able to profess “my Lord and my God!” Even Thomas has much growing to accomplish in order to come to an authentic, living faith.

So, how have you been moving within yourself during this season of repentance, death and new life? Not to worry: just as Martha came to believe; just as Thomas came to doubt no more; we, too, are on a journey of growth in holiness. Let’s be patient with ourselves, yet always keeping our hands to the plow. In these next, and last, weeks of Lent, may our journey be fruitful and our authentic faith be enlivened.

God love you, and those you love.

Fr. David

04/03/2011

Can You See Him for Who He Is?

Last weekend, we went to the well with the Samaritan Woman. And as we conversed with Jesus, we first saw him merely as “a Jew”. But later, as we listened while He spoke, we came to discover more about Him and we perceived Him as “a prophet”. Only after He shared with us the depth and beauty of who we are in His midst did we understand Him to be “the Christ”.

This weekend, we find ourselves again in His midst, but this time we are as the Blind Man who has no sense of this Jesus: blind since birth, we cannot hope to see except by the One who can restore our lost sight. We clearly admit from the outset, “I am he” who is blind. And we are challenged and ridiculed by those around us.

Yet, the more we ponder and share about the One who restores our sight, the more we come to see Him for who He is:

• first, He is “a healer”;
• later, He is “a prophet”;
• still later, the “Son of Man”;
• and finally, “Lord”!

If we share our lives with Christ, He will be able to share greatly His own life with us. If we share our life of faith with others, so much more will that life of faith impact our own…allowing us to grow in comprehension and witness…allowing us to see Him for who He really is, and to proclaim “Christ, the Lord!”

Blessings on your Lenten journey,

Fr. David

03/26/2011

“If you only knew…”

When I was drawing close to ordination as a priest, I remember having a very candid and serious conversation with an older priest. I had known him most of my life and was looking forward to the next few months and following fifty years of ministry! My excitement was wearing him down a little because at a couple points he effortlessly downplayed certain of my enthusiastic hopes with the remark, “if you only knew…”. A few more times he ‘batted at the gnat excitedly buzzing around him’ and I got the hint: I sensed he was tired of the ‘young pup’ and my effusive excitement so I slowly started to retreat with my enthusiasm. I guess he felt bad at having deflated my balloon and, after a few minutes of just sitting and enjoying the growing summer, he said again, “if you only knew”. His tone was different this time. Feeling dismissed, I asked him to go on. The priest began to crack a bit and his expression had changed. He turned to me quite warmly and looked me in the eye. “If only you knew…and you can’t yet, but you will.”

“God is so good”, he continued. “I have been a priest for over 45 years and I am alwaysalwaysamazed at how blessed I am to witness such goodness. When I celebrate the sacraments, it’s all God’s doing and it’s never-ending. When I visit the frail, I can actually see God holding them up…even holding them together…and bolstering their failing strength. And when I’m tired and get a little worn out, God blesses me and sends me angels: folks who say ‘hello’ and mean it; people who love the church no matter what…really, no matter what; little dreams as I pray, and I feel God settling in beside me, not so unlike a lad and his puppy after an hour of fetch. Yep, if you only knew, you’d be even more excited!”

 

Jesus says to the woman of Samaria, “If you only knew the Gift of God that is before you”. As if hoping and inviting and waiting, the gentle Master longs for her to see and to know the gift of God: His peace; His acceptance; His loving mercy; His ache for her to know…really know Him. Thankfully she comes to know, and to experience, all of the blessings that life holds out for her, in Him. Despite her wrestling and doubt and wandering and defense…she is still able to leave her hardness and scars aside and come to know the Gift of God. And what a gift it is; what a gift He is!

 

For us, as we wander through this Lent, can we picture ourselves hoping and meandering and aching? We don’t have to be as the Samaritan any longer. We can know the Gift of God and receive His life-giving grace.

May our excitement never wane and may our enthusiasm never allow us to stumble or veer off this path that leads to the Gift of God.

Blessings to you always,

Fr. David

03/20/2011

Trust Me

The LORD said to Abram: “Go forth from the land of your kinsfolk and from your father’s house to a land that I will show you.”

I will never forget June 27, 1999. That’s the day I boarded the airplane at Leonardo da Vinci Airport in Rome, Italy and started my final return journey to the United States as a recently-ordained priest. With academic degrees in hand, I was still without a clue as to where I was really going. Sure, I knew my assignment, but the only thing I really possessed was the inner conviction that God wanted me to be a darn good priest, formed to enthusiastically and authentically proclaim the Gospel and His Kingdom. Other than that, I had no idea what lay ahead…and I still don’t, for that matter!

Providentially, the very reading we will hear this Second Sunday of Lent, reminds me of the deep need we all have: we need to trust the Lord’s continual goodness. Abraham had it all: “… very rich in livestock, silver, and gold.” He was quite cozy in the town of Ur and was actually ready for retirement by our standards. Then it got a little foggy for Abe… “Go forth… to a land that I will show you.” Wow, the power of those words. Talk about a Lenten journey! I certainly didn’t have the vaguest idea what lay ahead of me back then. All I knew was that there was an invitation to go, to leap, to trust again completely. I was scared, clueless. But looking back, what a ride! What lessons I learned, and continue to learn as the Father continues to form me.

My spiritual father asked me to listen to my life, to listen for my heart’s deepest desire, to put out into the deep, to trust as Abraham did. I did my best to “be attentive to the voice of Grace.” I struggled much, but through it all God was working His plans out for my heart. As a priest for 13+ years, I have discovered how to walk this road just as Abraham did; in faith and trust and with wild abandon (though still sometimes stumbling!). In the words of Peter Kreeft: “There is one and only one possible road to joy: selfless love.” That road dawns again for us each Lent, and that selfless love is the center line for all of us. By listening to the Love Who resides in our bodies, the Word of God in our hearts and minds, purified and harmonized with His Will, we will find our Promised Land just as Abraham did. A vocation of self-gift, flowing with milk and honey for the world!

God love you, and those you love!

Fr. David