Ash Wednesday - Tomorrow's reading reflection

We live in the midst of driving kids to soccer games and music lessons, and working overtime so we can afford the latest gadgets and the most up to date technology for our kids so others, most especially our kids, will think of us as a good parent. We are in a frenzy, squeezing in yoga and a work out at the gym so we can tell ourselves we are taking care of ourselves. But our hearts are troubled, our minds are agitated, our bodies are restless, all the while apprehensive that we don’t quite measure up, even when we are doing all the things we think we ought to be doing. We are hesitant to take time to pray, lest God add to the already taxing demands on our time and energy. In the midst of this contemporary rendering of today’s gospel, Jesus invites us to come home, “Come home to the Love that awaits you, come home to the One who is calling you; just come home.”

This Lent, listen to how God is calling you home. It may be to spend more time with family, or to reach out to a lonely neighbor. Perhaps it’s making a daily practice of reflection on the graces and blessings of the day or attending daily Mass.  How will you recognize God’s voice amidst the clamor of so many insisting calls? How will you know? You will find you are more peaceful, more grateful, more hopeful, more generous, more loving… and it will feel like coming home.

(Adapted from Diane Jorgensen)

Like a sparrow in a hurricane - Tomorrow's reading reflection

Recently on a very windy day, I was sitting in the sun room of a retreat center.  The wind was howling and snow flurries were not falling exactly but blowing in all directions.  It was very chaotic outside and I was feeling chaotic inside.  As I continued to sit, a blue jay alighted in the magnolia tree outside the window.  He sat very still in the wind and then suddenly began to call out. He was close enough that I could see him move when he was talking.  He stayed for a long time, still and content in the midst of chaos.  It was not hard to notice God calling me in creation that day.  This moment of grace, of peace in the midst of chaos, moves me forward on my journey to wholeness and holiness. It has invited me to be attentive to the world around me, the person in front of me and the God within me.

How is God calling you to holiness today?

(Adapted from Amy Hoover)

Rest in God alone, my soul; just rest. - Sunday's reading reflection

When, in the past, I have heard Jesus' invitation to me to trust him and to not worry, there always seems to be some part of me that holds back. I never was very good at a "trust walk" - being blindfolded and letting someone just lead me around, blindly trusting I won't walk into something I couldn't see. I assume it is the very human part of us that clings to our survival instinct. In fact, when I reflect on it, worry is the way I protect myself from getting hurt, but it is also the way I look ahead, the way I foresee concerns, danger. It is the way I solve problems and imagine solutions. "What are the threats that are out there?" In fact, to not worry almost seems to be unconcerned about the things that I ought to be concerned about.

It takes me some deeper reflection to get into these readings and to hear the invitation more deeply, more personally. I don't think Jesus is telling me not to be concerned about anything, any more than Jesus is telling us not to care about paying our bills or providing for our daily needs or our future security.

The first part of the consolation comes from Isaiah 49. God's love for us compared to a mother's love for us. A healthy mother simply always has tenderness for the child of her womb. Our God has tenderness like that for us. The power of the next life is very consoling: "Even should she forget, I will never forget you." I need to walk around in that these days and let it soak in and comfort me. The bond, the connection, the care, the tenderness of God for me is there. I need to let myself feel it more deeply.

I need to walk around these days saying the words of Psalm 62: "Rest in God alone, my soul." "He alone is my rock and my salvation. ... Trust in him at all times." Oh, how I try to rest, rely, take comfort and shelter in so many other places, in so many other places of refuge! In those places where I regress or where I protect my vulnerability, I need to say, right in that situation, "Rest in God alone, my soul. Just rest. Just let go and find comfort and care in God alone, instead of any other escape, any other pattern."

(Adapted from Andy Alexander, SJ)

Trust/Fear - Tomorrow's reading reflection

Sometimes it’s hard not to fear. It seems like the reasonable and unavoidable thing to do: for example, if you get a bad diagnosis from the doctor, or lose a job, or hear a piece of terrible news. In these situations, I sometimes find myself trying to trust in God but failing. Fear gets the better of me. That’s when I find comfort in old adage from the Scottish philosopher John McMurray about real religion and false religion.

I’ll paraphrase: False religion says that if you believe in God, nothing bad will ever happen, so don’t worry. Real religion says that even if you believe in God, something bad might happen, but there’s no need to worry. In fearful times we tend to forget that God is right there with us, no matter what happens—through our friends, our families, even our doctors—and that God gives us all sorts of resources to deal with our problems and move through them, and if we’re lucky, past them. The key is remembering all this when the fear starts and focusing on the trust instead.

(Adapted from Fr. James Martin, SJ)

How does Scripture cut like a sword? Mercy. - Tomorrow's reading reflection

The Gospel exhortations end with dire warnings: if your foot causes you to sin, cut if off.  Pope Francis exhorts in a different key.  He urges us to open our doors and get out in the streets with those bruised and hurting.  Behind our walls is security.  To stand with those who struggle is joy.  And it is joy that salts our life. 

How do we recover the sharp edge of Scripture in a world like ours?  The works of mercy. 

(Adapted from Jeanne Schuler)

Puffs of smoke - Tomorrow's reading reflection

The message of Jesus is so very simple, but often I don’t want to hear it. Help the poor, love my enemies and don’t be so obsessed with wealth and power. All wonderful ideas and ones I cheer with my whole heart. Well, most of it.

Today’s readings challenge us not to be so confident and self-assured. Not to be arrogant.  In the first reading, James cautions us not to count on our own plans to get us through life because “you have no idea what your life will be like tomorrow. You are a puff of smoke that appears briefly and then disappears.”

Maybe that lack of control in life is what makes me less willing to turn my life so completely over to God. In the morning, I can pray to surrender my whole life to Jesus. Then I spend the rest of the day wresting it back from him a little at a time. “Let me have just this one part back,” I will bargain. “Oh, and that one, too.”

I don’t like not being in control and all Jesus is asking is that I trust in him more. I don’t have to know what is over the next hill or the next week. But if I trust in Jesus’ presence in my life and in his loving care for me, whatever does come in life will be easier for me, whether I am in “control” or not.

(Adapted from Maureen McCann Waldron)

Oh, disciples... - Tomorrow's reading reflection

In the first reading, people are arguing, fighting, coveting, and unsatisfied with their position. They are focused on worldly things, which are unsatisfactory, instead of focusing on spiritual things. If they would ask God for what they truly need, they would be satisfied, but they go against God by coveting things of the world. They love the world and do not love God, and without God there is no satisfaction. If the Lord does not build a house, then in vain do the builders labor.  The fighting and the focus on the world actively turns them away from God, who could be their support. If they would, as the psalm suggests, throw their cares on the Lord, he would support them, but they choose instead to put their energies and focus elsewhere, and they get no support, and no satisfaction.

And the disciples themselves are no better. They fight amongst themselves over who is the greater. They are fighting with each other and coveting position and thinking of more worldly issues, even as Jesus is telling them one of the most important aspects of the religion. He is telling them that he will die and rise from the dead, but they did not understand what he was saying and what he meant, so they squabbled amongst themselves over who was most important in their group. Don’t people today still ignore the bigger issues of the faith and instead squabble over details and issues of politics and over who is most important. When Jesus finds out that his own people have been ignoring his teaching and instead fighting with each other over importance, he gives a lesson on what is important. He says that the greatest is not the richest or most powerful, the greatest is the most helpful: the opposite of the one at the top. He brings in a child – the least powerful, most vulnerable – someone who can give no benefit but requires the most help. And he says whoever helps a child, the least important of people, will be receiving Jesus and God himself.

Instead of hating each other, we could be loving God, and one of the best ways to love God is to love his people. What better way to show God our appreciation than to appreciate and respect, even love, his creation. Loving each other, treating each other decently – even the poor, especially the poor – is the best way to have satisfaction in our lives. Those who love the lowest, least important people, those who give with no expectation of benefit, will receive the greatest benefit. The things of the world are not the most satisfying, but the love of God can satisfy all.

(Adapted from Tami Whitney)