No Chance Encounters

16 Sunday Jan 2022

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Discipleship

Tags

1 Samuel 9, Calling of Matthew, Discipleship, Friendship, God-moments, Mark 2:13-17

The Calling of St. Matthew, Matthias Stomer, 1629

In yesterday’s first reading from 1 Samuel 9, we heard about Saul the Benjaminite who, while out looking for his lost donkeys, just happened to run into Samuel the prophet. Samuel had been told by God the day before that he would meet the man whom he would name as the new king of Israel at that specific time the next day. From Saul’s perspective, It was a chance encounter. From Samuel’s, though, it was God’s plan.

In yesterday’s Gospel, Mark 2:13-17, we read about Jesus calling Matthew, son of Alphaeus, to follow him. Matthew certainly wasn’t expecting to be called, but it was in Jesus’ plan to pass by his tax collection booth that day and invite him to be His disciple.

Jesus meets us in unexpected, memorable and life changing ways, also. Unfortunately, when He does, we can be quick to write them off as mere coincidences. I’ve learned, though, that most anything very far removed from the ordinary is God working in my life and not just a result of dumb luck. He’s calling my attention to Himself and His will. Sometimes it may only be a reminder that He is here with me, sometimes a reminder to be grateful for His providence, and sometimes He’s telling me I need to make a course correction. Sometimes it’s all of the above.

I had a little God-moment yesterday. An old friend, Joe, called me out of the blue. I hadn’t talked to him in many months, and only a couple times since he moved away five years or so ago. Joe and I first met ten years ago this coming April on a Christ Renews His Parish weekend, a retreat in which neither of us ever expected to participate. Joe was a lukewarm Catholic with little desire to grow deeper in his faith but attended to placate the man who kept pestering him. Me, I had never had any faith to allow to grow cold. I was simply at a low point and attended to get away from the stress of life for two days.

From the get-go, Joe and I hit it off. We became instant friends, both satiated with the Holy Spirit by the end of the retreat, and wondering where we would go from there. I chose to join the Catholic Church and learn more about Jesus, and Joe chose to begin living out his faith with renewed zeal. We were both on fire and our friendship kept each other stoked like a blacksmith’s furnace. Together, we went onto the next Christ Renews team. We met for lunch once a week and shared how God was working in our lives. We participated in a men’s small group at which we discussed the Gospel and learned more about our faith from other friends.

And then Joe changed jobs and moved a couple hours away. We lost touch, yet we kept moving forward in our own ways. Joe got involved in the small parish which he attends and started making new friends. I retired and began studying to become a spiritual mentor. Our small group slowly dissolved and I found new friends with whom to share my faith.

We talked for over a half hour, catching up with each other, our families, our faith. He called me because he thought of me and our Christ Renews His Parish journey together. He was giving a pulpit talk this morning to ask men to attend a weekend retreat and he wanted my prayers.

I told him I have a couple groups with whom I meet regularly and just last week gathered together some of the old guys from our first group. It was a fun reunion and we talked about resuming regular get-togethers. Joe said he misses those group discussions and would like to get a small group of friends from his parish together to share their faith. We talked about our prayer lives, and about the spiritual mentoring that I do, and he sounded interested in getting his own spiritual mentor. It was almost like old-times. Before we ended the call we vowed to stay better in touch.

After our call, I thought back to how our friendship evolved. We were both called to be on that retreat together. We had our reasons, but God had His own. It was not a chance encounter. Yesterday’s phone call wasn’t a chance encounter, either. We needed each other during that time to grow deeper in our faith which ultimately made us better disciples for Christ. We needed each other yesterday. It was like God giving a couple pumps on the bellows of that old furnace.

The Holy Spirit is still urging us to continue being disciple makers. And, because of this, we have the grace to know and accept that He puts Sauls and Matthews in our lives by His plan and not by coincidence. But, they don’t know that….not yet.

PS: My wife and I arrived at mass this morning just moments before the opening procession. Not wanting to walk down the aisle to our preferred seat, we took a spot in the back pew on Mary’s side, at the far outside end of the pew. As I sat down I remembered that this was Joe’s seat. He would always get there early to make sure someone else didn’t get it. Coincidence? I don’t think so.

“Heavenly Father, thank you for the friendships we have developed with You as the Common Denominator. Through them You give us the extra help we need to be disciple makers and bring our brothers and sisters to You. Amen.”

(No Chance Encounters was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)

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A Worthy Resolution

10 Monday Jan 2022

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Uncategorized

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Discipleship, Fishers of Men, Friendship, Mark 1:14-20, New Year's Resolutions, Resolutions, Temptations

The Calling of the Apostles Peter and Andrew, Duccio di Buoninsegna, 1308-1311, National Gallery of Art

Yesterday’s celebration of the Baptism of Jesus marked the end of Christmastide and initiated Ordinary Time which began today. Yesterday’s liturgy helped call to mind the gifts of fire and Spirit which we were given at our baptisms, those supernatural gifts bestowed upon us to help us give witness to the light and truth of Jesus in all that we say and do.

Today’s Gospel was from Mark 1:14-20. I love Mark. He doesn’t waste any time getting to the meat of things. No infancy narrative, no beating around the bush. In the very first chapter, he tells us of John the Baptist’s preaching in verses 1 to 8, about Jesus’ baptism in verses 9 to 11, the Lord’s temptation in the desert in verses 12 and 13, in verse 14 he goes straight into the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, and in verse 16 He calls His first disciples. Bam! There it is! He’s off and running!

As I was meditating on today’s passage I wondered if there was an intended purpose in having the temptations in the desert back to back with Jesus’ calling of the first disciples. Probably not, but I thought of a plausible one that could be relevant to us today. We’re ten days into the new year and many of us look back at the last twelve months and wish we had done better at this or that. Many of our perceived faults and failures were direct results of one or more vices: pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, anger, and sloth. In a sense, these were the temptations we were faced with in a moment of choice, which we probably caved into, and which may have become habits, or else we wouldn’t be trying to correct ourselves.

Our inherent sense of right and wrong tells us we ought to do better during the next trip around the sun. So, we make resolutions to correct these vices with corresponding opposite virtues: humility, charity, chastity, gratitude, temperance, patience, and diligence. We want to improve our diets, get more exercise, enhance our relationships, change some negative behavior, and so on. And maybe, just maybe, that second sense is moving you to become better disciples of Christ and draw more people to Him. To be Fishers of Men and teach your catch to do the same.

Making changes, real and worthwhile changes, is never easy. It’s hard to break bad habits and come face to face with fears and discomforts. These days, one of the hardest habits to break is to pull away from one’s screens. But, we know inside that doing so will give us more time to enhance our relationships with those we love. That’s the first secret of improvement, seeing the good that will come. Similarly, we can see the good, the joy, the feeling of peace, the graces, that will come from living out our calling as disciples. It may not be easy but it will be worth it.

The second secret is to commit to making the change and eliminate the obstacles. To lose weight you stop buying a bucket of ice cream each day so you won’t eat it. So, determine what’s keeping you from approaching other people. Then commit to making a change and draft a plan. Ask yourself what you can do differently. Go to a different mass than you usually go to and meet someone new. Invite them to dinner. Build a friendship. Have good conversation and get to know each other. Invite them to pray a rosary with you. You don’t even have to approach people you don’t know. Just look within your family – people who you already know and love.

Maybe being a better disciple sounds difficult, almost scary. I know what you’re thinking – “You mean I have to talk to people, maybe even non-Christians, about God and my faith? I’ll have to invite them to go to church with me, or a bible study, or pray a rosary with me. What if they turn me down? What if they reject not just my offer but me!?” Just remember yesterday’s Gospel: you were given with your baptism the supernatural gifts to help you give witness to the truth and the light that is Jesus! And, then, if you were confirmed, you were given the virtue of fortitude to help overcome your fear.

I have a friend who begins each year with a resolution to bring three people closer to Christ. Not just any three people but three specific people. He writes down their names. He makes a plan that includes building friendships with them by inviting them into his life. Then, slowly, through their new and trusting relationship, he introduces them to Jesus. I’ve seen it work year after year. A win-win for both parties. Does he get a bite with each cast? No, but he’s fishing instead of just cutting bait and he puts more in the Lord’s creel than most people.

If you’ve already made new resolutions, or if you’re still kicking around ideas, consider what you can do to become a better disciple. Ask God to help you. Certainly resolve to change what needs to change, turn your vices into virtues, so that others can see you living the Christ life. Then commit to bringing someone else closer to Christ as well. It’s a worthy resolution.

“Dear Jesus, I love You, and I would love to bring more people to love You like I do. I can only do so much on my own and I need Your help. Help me, Lord, to realize the confidence, the faith, and the courage You have so graciously and generously infused into me through Your Spirit. Help me to help others desire the same. Amen.”

(A Worthy Resolution was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)

It’s the Word that Matters

10 Monday Jan 2022

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Faith

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Tags

Faith, Liturgy, The Word

I posted yesterday about my inspiring trip to reconciliation. As I walked out of church I was pumped up, having just felt an extremely close encounter with the Holy Spirit. As I walked to my truck in the parking lot a woman whom I had never seen before approached on her way into the church. She looked at me and asked with what seemed to be a little attitude, “Who is it this evening?”

I initially assumed she was arriving a little early for 5:30 mass. We have a pastor and a parochial vicar assigned to our parish, I’ll call them Father One and Father Two to protect their identity. I told her that Father One was hearing confessions so he would also be saying mass. The woman looked at me and replied, “Oh, I wish it was Father Two, I like his better.” Not knowing exactly what to say, I offered my rejoinder, “Well, it’s the Word that matters.” She looked at me kind of funny and then walked on past. As I unlocked my truck I suddenly wished I could back time up a half a minute so she and I could have a little one on one conversation.

I would have liked to ask her what it is about Father Two that she prefers. Is it that she likes the dynamic homilies he occasionally gives, or some other personal quirk that appeals to her over Father One? I wanted to ask her if she’s ever considered that Father One might have the time to prepare more edifying homilies if he didn’t have to manage and administer two parishes.

I would have liked to tell her that I hear homilies from a couple dozen priests during the course of a year and every priest has his own style of delivery. Some are enlightening, some not so much. It’s not so much what the priest is saying in his homily, it’s the Word that matters, and what we hear God saying to us. It’s Jesus in the Word and in the Eucharist that we come to receive at mass, not the priest. A less than kind me briefly thought it would be fun to suggest that if it’s a sermon that she comes to get fired up over, then maybe she’d be better off attending a Methodist service. For that, I thought I might need to go back to confession. Maybe next week.

I wondered if she knew that every Catholic church on earth reads the same scripture passages on any particular day. No two priests have the same homily and there are no standard homilies. The priest formulates his homily based on what the Holy Spirit is telling him. Not every priest hears the same message. Likewise, if there are 400 people in the congregation during a mass, then there are 400 different and unique messages being sent from the Holy Spirit, one to each person there. The priest’s message might get you in the ballpark for understanding what God’s will is for you that day, but if that’s all you hear it might leave you in the cheap seats with a message that probably isn’t uniquely yours.

Mentally chiding myself for that devilish thought from a moment ago, I thought if I were a true disciple I would be helpful instead of so snooty and teach her how to meditate on the daily scripture before attending mass. That way she could more readily hear God speak directly to her instead of second hand through the lector or priest. Then, it wouldn’t matter who’s giving the homily.

Suddenly realizing that my know-it-all-pride had just displaced any humility I thought I had, I decided I was making a mountain out of a mole hill. So I got in my truck, buckled up, turned the key and saw that it was only 4:25. I thought maybe the lady was going to confession first. Perhaps she was intending that she preferred Father Two over Father One to hear her confession.

Well, checking my pride didn’t last long as I thought of some new things I’d have liked to ask her. Did she feel more comfortable going to one priest over another? If so, why? Not why as in, “Does Father Two make you feel less sorry for your sins?”, but rather, “Why does it matter?” You don’t go to confession to be comforted. You go to tell God you’re sorry you offended Him and that you’ll do everything in your power to keep from doing it again. You go to be reconciled with God, not reconciled with the priest. After all, it’s God working through the priest, In Persona Christi, Who is the forgiving, All Merciful One.

Once again dismounting from my high-horse, and sorry for being so judgmental, I knew I needed to back off. It’s not for me to judge what’s in someone’s heart by the tone of five simple words. I realized my thoughts were a defensive reaction to protect the dignity of our priests. I look up to them and am thankful they have devoted their lives to helping us on our journey to heaven. Their’s is a demanding “you-can’t-please-all-the-people-even-some-of-the-time” job. They are too often taken for granted and not often enough thanked for their goodness. It seems we too often relegate our spiritual welfare to them instead of taking responsibility for it ourselves. We need to realize there are too few priests as it is, and, as members of the Body of Christ, start carrying more of the load.

I think I know where I’ll be next Saturday afternoon.

“Merciful Father, please forgive me for being so prideful and judgmental. But, thank You for letting me see the value of our caring, generous, and hard-working priests, and accepting their uniqueness, flaws and all, just as You accept mine. Amen.”

(It’s the Word that Matters was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)

Confession, Gethsemane, and the Cross

09 Sunday Jan 2022

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Redemptive Suffering

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Confession, Garden of Gethsemane, Grace, Reconciliation, Redemptive Suffering, The Cross

Today was a good day to go to the Sacrament of Reconciliation. There was nothing on my agenda that needed my time, nor was there any voice in the back of my head giving me false justification for why I shouldn’t go. It had been about a month since my last visit to the confessional, plenty of time to rack up a few venial sins for which I wasn’t very proud.

“Father, let’s start with the vice of Sloth. Maybe it’s the weather, or maybe just coming down from the Holiday, but it’s been hard to get off my rear end and do anything worthwhile. I have a long list of stuff, some of it pretty important, but procrastination has set in and it’s only the feel-good stuff that’s getting done.

“Let’s move on to Gluttony. Maybe it’s a side-effect of the Sloth, but I’m overdoing it in the Comfort department. Instead of two cookies, four or five is better. An intended fifteen minute power nap turns into an hour. You know what I mean? I can’t say my lifestyle has earned much sanctification lately, Father.

“And last, and probably the most important, has been my Pride and my lack of faith. Oh, my prayer life has been great, but my trust in Him has been lacking. There’s a couple people whom I love very much who are hurting and struggling emotionally right now. I’m a guy, I want to fix them, but I know there’s not much I can do to help but love them the best I can, and I know I should trust God to answer my prayers to bring them peace, but He’s not working fast enough for me.”

After a few words of consolation, affirmation, and my act of contrition, Father gave me my absolution and my penance to spend some time in church in prayer for those about whom I am concerned. I thought, “If you say so, Father, but I’ve already been doing a lot of that at home.”

Finding a pew on Mary’s side, I looked up to the altar, above the altar, actually, and the first thing I saw was a stained glass window of Jesus praying in the Garden of Gethsemane. It’s a beautiful window and every time I look at it I can’t help but think of the emotional anguish Jesus was experiencing at that moment. He knew what was in store when He said, “Not my will, Father, but let Your will be done.” Uniting His will with the Father’s, He put His trust in God that all would be well, and then got up and got on with the business at hand.

Jesus Praying in the Garden of Gethsemane (Not as beautiful as the one in our church but the best I could do)

My eyes dropped down a notch to that which was between the window and the altar – the Crucifix, that wooden cross upon which Jesus was nailed, and which culminated in the salvation of the world. Looking up at Him, I knew He knew what I was going through.

It dawned on me that the Agony in the Garden was Jesus’ passive suffering and sacrifice. It was what was handed to him as a loving human being. But, His crucifixion was His active suffering and sacrifice, that which He chose to do for the sake of the world, including you and me.

Most protestants don’t believe in In Persona Christi, that Christ works mercifully through the priest to absolve sins and bring us closer to Him. I thought how wrong they are because there seemed to be a heap of Grace, Mercy, and Divine Providence staring me right in the face. Jesus was making it clear that my own emotional turmoil was my passive suffering, it goes with being alive and is a grace that comes from my ability to love. I needed to offer it to Him with love and trust.

And, He was leaving no doubt that I needed to actively choose a sacrifice on behalf of the ones for whom my heart pours out. God doesn’t ask for the impossible. He asks for the possible but at the same time makes you stretch, makes you get over your inertia and get out of your comfort zones so that He can draw you closer to Him. For me, that means pushing myself to grow in the virtues of Temperance and Diligence to offset my tendencies towards Gluttony and Sloth. For the ones I love, that’s a sacrifice I can make.

In Persona Christi. Through the priest, the Holy Spirit could have given me the usual Our Father and three Hail Mary’s as a penance. Today, he didn’t. He just wanted me to sit before Him and pray, to open my heart to His Spirit and His Will, and let Him penetrate me with His Grace, and convince me that He’s got this.

“Loving and gracious God, thank You for Your bountiful grace and mercy. Thank You for putting in me a heart that is so full of love that it hurts. Thank You for bolstering my faith each and every time I let my pride put more trust in me than I do in You. Amen.”

(Confession, Gethsemane, and the Cross was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)