Follow The Star!

08 Sunday Jan 2023

Tags

Bethlehem, Epiphany, Epiphany of the Lord, Hope, Impossible Dream, Jesus, Magi, Perseverance, Three Kings, Virtue, Wisemen

One of my memories as a pre-teen kid in the late sixties is of playing records (vinyl LPs) on my parent’s console stereo. These stereos were large pieces of furniture with a sliding top, a record player on one side, an AM/FM radio in the middle and a well for storing albums on the other side.

My folks listened primarily to crooners popular at the time, one of which was Jack Jones. In 1966, Jones recorded and released a popular song, The Impossible Dream. My folks had that record and it was spun on that state of the art Hi-Fi quite often. It was a good sing-a-long song that you could really get into. I can still remember most of the lyrics:

To dream the impossible dreamTo fight the unbeatable foe

To bear with unbearable sorrow

To run where the brave dare not go

To right the unrightable wrong

To be better by far than you are

To try when your arms are too weary

To reach the unreachable star

This is my quest, to follow that star

No matter how hopeless, no matter how far

To be willing to give when there’s no more to give

To be willing to die so that honor and justice may live

And I know if I’ll only be true to this glorious quest

That my heart will lie peaceful and calm when I’m laid to my rest

And the world will be better for this

That one man scorned and covered with scars

Still strove with his last ounce of courage

To reach the unreachable star

The song encourages you to follow your dreams even when they seem unachievable, to persevere and never give up, and to do what is right in the face of adversity. This dream, the ultimate goal, is the unreachable star.

This memory came to mind as I was meditating on the Epiphany of the Lord, which we celebrate today, in remembrance of the day the Three Kings reached Bethlehem and gazed upon the infant Jesus. Three wise men, astronomers who saw the star, had the grace to interpret its meaning and the gumption to follow it. They had no idea of where the star would lead them but they knew they were called to follow it.

They came from afar and their journey had to be long and arduous. I’m sure they encountered many dangers on their trek. They weren’t the only people who saw the star. But, they were the only ones who put their hearts and minds to the task of following it. They probably faced much ridicule to undertake such a crazy quest, one that had no foreseeable promise at the other end. But, they had hope for something magnificently good when they reached their destination.

I doubt that the Impossible Dream was written with much, if any, thought given to its relevance to this Christian tradition of ours. But it suits it to a tee – with one exception. Our dream is not impossible to achieve. It may seem that way at times when we are struggling with our sin, with difficult relationships, and periods of dryness in our prayer lives. Our quest is not hopeless – Jesus, our Star, has promised us that we will reach him if we persevere by living lives of virtue. Sometimes it feels as though we are marching through Hell, but our Heavenly cause is to grow in faith. Our faith tells us that if we stay true to our Lord, our souls will rest peacefully with Him in heaven after our time on earth is over. And, finally, because we don’t give up, we will be better people, better disciples, better spouses, parents, children and friends, and we will make the world a better place.

Follow The Star! Persevere. You may get scorned and scarred along the way, but strive with every ounce of courage you have. Like the Magi who gazed upon Jesus with unimaginable admiration, you will, too.

(Follow The Star! was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)

©2013-2023 Reflections of a Lay Catholic. Reposting and sharing of material in its full and original content is permitted, provided that full and clear credit is given to the author(s) and Reflections of a Lay Catholic.

Is Your Faith Contagious?

06 Tuesday Sep 2022

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Evangelization, Faith

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

Bring a friend to Christ, Evangelization, Faith, Jesus, Jesus the Divine Physician

Jesus, the Divine Physician – St. James Catholic Church, Duluth, MN

In today’s Gospel, Luke 6:12-19, Luke tells of the great multitude of people who sought out Jesus to be healed of their diseases and to be cured of the torment of unclean spirits. Luke doesn’t elaborate on how this great multitude of people learned about Jesus’ healing. But, I suspect it happened by word of mouth, by those who heralded the healing and curing power of Jesus to their family and friends.

Reflecting on this passage, I related to the poor tormented souls as I recalled a time when I was overwhelmed by stress and the exigencies of life which brought so much unhappiness. I wasn’t looking for Jesus to cure me, but I let friends who knew I needed Him carry me to His emergency room, an ER with zero wait time!

So, I ask myself today, have I been one of those friends who, after being cured, or having witnessed His healing, made the effort to tell others who need Him? I can say “Yes”, but reservedly. This blog is one way I get the word out. I evangelize through spiritually mentoring other men to develop their interior lives and their relationships with Jesus. I share my faith in small groups with other men who already have a strong faith. But, do I reach out effectively and proclaim the Good News to those who have not heard it or are indifferent to it? Is my faith contagious? I think I can do better.

How about you? Is your faith contagious? In what ways do you tell others about Jesus and His saving grace? How might you do better?

“Lord Jesus, I thank You for Your constant presence in my life. Lord, open my heart to new ways to bring others to You, and, through Your grace, help me to realize the virtue of fortitude I need to be outgoing in bringing Your Word to others. Help me, Jesus, to live my life in a way that others want some of what I have. Amen.”

(Is Your Faith Contagious? was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)

©2013-2022 Reflections of a Lay Catholic. Reposting and sharing of material in its full and original content is permitted, provided that full and clear credit is given to the author(s) and Reflections of a Lay Catholic.

The Good Shepherd

10 Tuesday May 2022

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Faith

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Jn 10:1-10, Prayer, The Good Shepherd

Yesterday’s Gospel, Jn 10:1-10, brought back memories from long ago. Like 53 years ago when I was 12 years old living in the small village of High Ham, Somerset, England. My friend, John, a year older than me, lived a few hundred yards down the road. John and his family were dairy farmers with a fine herd of Holstein cows. And, they had a large flock of sheep which they raised for the wool. I spent every moment I could down on John’s farm helping with anything his dad would let me. I learned to milk and feed cows, deliver calves, shovel manure, cut, bale and pitch hay, drive a tractor and a car, and herd and shear sheep.

To the best of my recollection, I enjoyed every aspect of it – some more than others. Perhaps my least favorite was herding the sheep. I think I preferred shoveling manure to messing with those unruly critters. Driving the flock from one pasture to another was always a challenge. If one sheep got a notion to jump through a hedge or over a low spot in a rock wall into someone’s yard, they all followed the leader. I did not have what it took to herd sheep. But John, he was the good shepherd. He had the knack. When he was herding them down the main road through the village they were perfect darlings. He loved those fluffy ovines and they loved him. He treated them gently and kindly, and spoke to them softly. With John, they were happy sheep. Me, I just wanted them to do what I wanted them to do – go from point A to point B without detouring to points C, D, E and F along the way. But, they wouldn’t listen to what I had to say.

In the 53 years since then I’ve learned that people can be the same way. We know who loves us and who doesn’t, who cares for us and who has our best interest at heart. Just like sheep, we can sense the difference between someone who is loving, caring, and sincere, and someone who is trying to control us for their own purposes. We become friends with the former and turn our backs on the latter.

Or not. Some folks decide they don’t need any help making it through life. They can do it on their own. Wander where they will with no concern for anyone else. They’ll jump the hedge when something spooks them, and poop in someone else’s yard and think nothing of it. Their actions are driven by fear, or because it feels good, or because it’s convenient, or to simply show they can. But, they’re never really happy.

Still others let other people lead them to places they shouldn’t go, and they blindly follow. Often these are unhealthy relationships based on false love. Some idolize entertainers, politicians, or athletes thinking happiness will be found if they can be like them.

For my part, since I began to follow Jesus ten years ago, I’ve learned that no one loves and cares for me more than He does. It’s His voice I listen for each morning as I sit in the solitude and silence of my daily meditation, conversing with Him, asking Him what His will is for me each day. He is my Good Shepherd. I know where He is leading me, to heaven, and I want to get there virtuously without detouring and ending up in other places that He doesn’t want me to go. Why? Because I hear His voice and follow Him out of love. It’s where I find true happiness.

To whom do you listen? Is it the Good Shepherd? Or is it the harsh and demanding voice of today’s world that invokes anxiety; or the inviting call of pride; or the sexy but illusory whisper of self-pleasure that beckons you?

“Lord Jesus, You are my Good Shepherd. I find peace and consolation each day knowing that You are watching over me, that You know what is best for me, and that You will lead me there. All I have to do is listen to and follow You. Amen.”

(The Good Shepherd was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)

Peace in Knowing the Meaning of Easter

18 Monday Apr 2022

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Faith

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Col 3:1-4, Easter, Faith, Hope, Love, Peace, Resurrection

(Editor’s note: In the original posting yesterday, the link to the included homily broadcast did not work. It has been corrected.)

Resurrection of Christ, Noel Coypel, c. 1700

Happy Easter, everyone! Christ is risen today! Alleluia!

It’s been a beautiful day here in Southwest Ohio. A perfect day to celebrate and be joyful. It didn’t begin that way for me, though. I caught my annual springtime cold on Thursday and it’s steadily worsened. I did go to the Mass of the Lord’s Supper Thursday evening and coughed and sneezed my way through it. And, as my cold got worse overnight, I knew better than to go to the Stations of the Cross and the Celebration of the Lord’s Passion on Good Friday, and I decided to skip going to the Easter Vigil Mass as well.

After a fitful night’s sleep I poured myself out of bed this morning and made it to 9:00 a.m. Mass. I managed to make it through with only a few coughs and no sneezes. But, between my head being stopped up and the additional noise from all the extra people, I didn’t understand a word of Father’s homily.

In resignation, I closed my eyes and repeated Simon Peter’s words from the Transfiguration, “It’s good that I am here”, and gave thanks for the opportunity to offer up my suffering and unite it to His cross.

As I stood to go up to communion I recalled the words from the second reading, Col 3:1-4, “Think of what is above, not of what is on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.” With each step forward I was drawn to the glory of Christ resurrected, and away from the fogginess I’d been experiencing all morning. By the time I reached the priest to receive the Eucharist, I felt an intense inner peace and knew I was smiling from ear to ear. As I walked back to my seat, letting the Body of Christ dissolve on my tongue, I looked upwards, still smiling, thinking of what is above, and I spied above the entrance doors to the church the Risen Christ on the cross with His arms spread wide in love. He was saying to me, “Your life is hidden here with Me.”

As I knelt back at my seat and said my prayer of thanksgiving after communion, that feeling stayed with me. I wasn’t focused on the way I felt, didn’t work to fend off a coughing fit or stifle a sneeze. I just focused on Jesus, thankful for the hope that my destiny will be with him. I knew that I will suffer things in my life much worse than a common cold, but in the end all of it will pale in comparison to the joy I will find when I find myself with Him.

I left Mass feeling pumped up spiritually yet drained physically, and still somewhat frustrated that I hadn’t heard well enough to understand Father’s homily. I felt a little cheated. Then, about two hours later, I received a message from a friend with a link to a homily from Fr. Ehli at the Cathedral of the Holy Spirit in Bismarck, North Dakota, where my friend’s daughter attends church. It was like the Holy Spirit heard my grumblings and blessed me with what was probably an even better homily on which to meditate. It hit home with me and I feel I need to share it with you here: Fr. Ehli’s homily. The homily begins at the 20:30 mark and ends at 31:30. I won’t give his message away except to say that, between it and my experience at Mass, knowing what’s in store at the end makes the getting there, even with springtime colds and other struggles, much more peaceful.

I pray that your Easter has been a joyful one, that your Hope has found new life knowing that Christ defeated death and He is holding a place for you. God bless you!

“Lord Jesus, You suffered and died for me and redeemed me of my sins. Your resurrection defeated death and gave the world hope that, by following You, we may also defeat death and live with you for all eternity. Thank you! Amen.”

Resolution: I desire to sow the seeds of this Word today by making a concrete resolution to live with more peace in the present moment.

(Peace in Knowing the Meaning of Easter was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)

It Is Good That We Are Here!

19 Saturday Feb 2022

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Eucharist, Faith

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Adoration, Eucharist, Mark 9:2-13, Transfiguration

(A reflection on the Gospel of Mark 9:2-13)

In today’s Gospel we find Peter, James and John atop Mount Tabor where Jesus is transfigured before them. Elijah and Moses appear to them and converse with Jesus, terrifying the three disciples. Peter, with deep respect, amazement, and, uncharacteristically, at a loss for words, tells Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good that we are here!”

As we attend mass this weekend, or any day when we receive communion, let us remember that Jesus is truly present in the Eucharist in all his divine glory. Let us remember to tell Him, “Jesus, it is good that I am here!”

When we make a Holy hour of Adoration, let us remember that Jesus is truly present in the Eucharist whom we adore, and let us remember to tell Him, “Jesus, it is good that I am here!”

And, any time we enter a church, let us remember that Jesus is alive and at home in the Tabernacle and is welcoming us in. Let us remember to tell Him, “Jesus, it is good that I am here!”

“Dear Jesus, You are my Savior, my Redeemer. You love me more than I can ever imagine. You are always by my side. May I never forget Your presence and to love You in return. Amen.”

(It Is Good That We Are Here! 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

≈ 6 Comments

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)

Are You a Full-Time or Part-Time Catholic?

10 Wednesday Nov 2021

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Faith

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Discipleship, Faith, Luke 14:25-33, Luke 16:9-15

There were two days during the last week where the daily Scripture passages really struck me – last Wednesday and then again on Saturday. Wednesday’s Gospel was from Luke 14:25-33, Sayings of Discipleship, and Saturday’s was from Luke 16:9-15, The Parable of the Dishonest Steward.

In the first, Jesus lays out the conditions of discipleship:

In all our relationships, including those with our family, friends, and neighbors, our relationship with Jesus must always come first.
We must carry our own cross and follow Him even when it hurts.
We must know the cost of following Him and plan and prepare accordingly. That cost will include being virtuous in the face of persecution and suffering, as well as requiring our effort to combat worldly indifference.
We must exercise prudence – do the right thing in any particular situation, choose our battles, and resist foolishness, impetuosity, thoughtlessness, inconstancy, and negligence.
We must turn loose of any disordered attachments which we desire more than Him.

In Luke 16:13, Jesus tells us, “No servant can serve two masters. He will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon.” Our Lord is saying we can’t be a devoted servant to Him if we are a slave to another.

Together these spoke to me about total commitment to Christ. Not just sometimes, not just when I feel like it, not just when I have time, but all the time, and especially when I’m suffering from something I don’t like, didn’t choose, can’t change or don’t understand.

As I meditated on these two passages, trying to understand the depth of their message and implications, my mind, as it all too often does, drifted in prayer. I recalled my 36 year career in corporate middle management, how I survived several buy-outs and mergers, each with a change of leadership, and with each change a “new and improved” corporate vision, mission and culture.

I recalled one particular newly promoted vice-president telling us that we needed to decide if we were going to be the “pig or the chicken” in the new company. He went on to tell a story of how a pig and a chicken joined together to create a new restaurant business. They discussed roles and responsibilities, and when they came to deciding what would be on the menu the chicken suggested they offer a variety of meals consisting of either ham, bacon or sausage with eggs. The pig thought about that a while and retorted that the arrangement seemed quite unfair. The chicken, thinking her idea made perfect sense asked the pig what he meant. The pig answered, “Well, it seems to me that I am committing to give up my life for this endeavor while your involvement is only dedicating the occasional egg.”

In essence, that new exec was asking us to decide if we were going to be fully committed to the company’s direction or would our dedication be intermittent, jumping on board only when that which was being asked of us was in line with our opinions, made us feel good and satisfied our own desires. As a manager I was expected to set an example for the employees who reported to me. But, truth be known, there were many times I felt like balking, procrastinating, going a different direction, and objecting because toeing the line was simply too demanding of me.

Coming back to the present moment in my prayer, I thought I had been distracted with that crazy memory. But, then, I realized that the Holy Spirit had led me to exactly the place He wanted me to go: to examine and understand my level of commitment to being a disciple of Jesus. Am I a full-time or part-time Catholic? He asks that question of each of us.

A good place to start answering Him is to consider the depth of your love for God. Do you envision Him with loving eyes looking down upon you, His beloved son or daughter? Do you realize that His great love has provided everything you have, including your family and friends? Do you express your love by being grateful for all He has given you?

Do you love Him by simply loving those around you, even your enemies, by doing what is right and just, by loving them as you should love yourself?

Do you love Him in the sacraments, especially the Sacraments of the Eucharist and Reconciliation? During the liturgy of the Mass do you focus on trying to understand His will for you that day? Is your attention completely captured during the epiclesis when the Holy Spirit is called down to sanctify the bread and wine making real the body and blood of Christ? Do you frequent the Sacrament of Reconciliation out of love for God because you have offended Him, or is your motive to selfishly rid yourself of guilt?

Do you love Him in your suffering, by accepting your cross as an opportunity to grow closer to Him, to grow in virtue, and to aid Him in His redemptive mission to save souls?

Do you demonstrate commitment by defending your faith in the face of persecution from those who ridicule you for your belief? Do you practice integrity when you are faced with tough choices by doing the right thing?

Do you love God by looking within yourself and identifying those things to which you are attached, those ingrained bad habits and vices which unnecessarily draw you away from Him, and resolve to change for the good by resisting their temptations?

Being fully-committed means living one life for God rather than giving only a part to God while reserving a second part for yourself. Our commitment has to be more than giving an hour a week to Him when, out of habit, we attend Mass, or when we say grace before meals. We have to live it every day, all day, in our relationships, our work, and our play for the mere glory of God.

A good way to begin moving towards living a life fully committed is to begin each day with gratitude, giving thanks for one more day to live and love Him, and for all that He provides. Then, in prayer, offer to Him out of love all that you will do and experience that day – your work, prayer, joy and suffering – to aid in Christ’s salvific mission of saving souls. Then, spend time with Jesus in prayer, asking Him to show you what His will is for you that day and resolve to do what He tells you. And, finally, carry out your resolution.

Truthfully, none of us are perfect, we are all sinners to some degree. We are all on an elevator somewhere between the basement of minimum involvement and the penthouse of full commitment. Each day we move up and down in that elevator, yet the goal of our lives is to ascend more floors than we descend and ultimately reach the top floor, heaven. The important thing to remember is that, while God keeps the elevator running, we are the ones pushing the buttons.

“Loving Father, I give You thanks for Your eternal love, and for the opportunity to love You each and every day. As I operate this elevator of daily life, help me, Lord, to resist pushing the down buttons that move me away from You. Amen.”

(Are You a Full-Time or Part-Time Catholic? was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)

©2013-2021 Reflections of a Lay Catholic. Reposting and sharing of material in its full and original content is permitted, provided that full and clear credit is given to the author(s) and Reflections of a Lay Catholic.

Come Holy Spirit

25 Monday Jan 2021

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Baptism, Faith, Love

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Baptism, Beloved Son, Conversion, Conversion of St. Paul, Holy Spirit, Your Spirit

As I read today’s Scripture for the Feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul during my morning prayer I recalled having posted a reflection on this passage sometime in the past. Looking back, I found I had written Conversions on this date in 2019. Immersing myself in that memory, I relived my own conversion experience and, once again, recalled the immense love I felt when I let myself hear God calling my name.

I also recalled this morning I had a similar recollection two weeks ago on the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord about which I wanted to write but didn’t have the time. This happens frequently – I get an inspiration but then don’t have the time to put it down in coherent form. It can be a little frustrating but then I’m sure it’s all part of God’s plan. But, over the last few days I’ve been confined to an upstairs bedroom/office with that little thing called Covid so I have some extra time to reflect and write. (Don’t be concerned, it seems to be a very mild case.)

That Sunday, two weeks ago, I was at the Savior Pastoral Center in Kansas City, Kansas attending Catholic Spiritual Mentorship Week. As Deacon Tom Schumer read from the Gospel of Mark (Mk 1:7-11) at Mass, I was drawn back to that day eight years and ten months ago when I knew and felt in my heart for the first time that I was also a beloved son of God. As it always is when I slip back to that life changing moment, I felt an intense warmth and an overwhelming sense of gratitude for having received His love and being called to this life.

As Fr. Steve Sotiroff delivered his homily on the Gospel and related it to the Holy Spirit filling our hearts at our own baptisms, I naturally recounted my baptism almost a year after my conversion experience. It seemed as though my heart had, over the previous year, already become enflamed to the point of being on fire for the Lord, such that my actual baptism was more an experience of intense gratitude (and a sigh of relief) for my sins having been forgiven.

It crossed my mind how truly blessed I was to have had my conversion experience at the age of fifty-five. I was able to not only remember it but to wrap it around me like a warm and comfortable blanket! Although I truly believe it is essential for Catholics to baptize their children as infants, I thought what a difference there would be if every Catholic could have a “re-conversion” experience like mine, how we could, collectively, light the world on fire. But, then, it occurred to me that they can have one, and many do, when men and women like you and me invite them to simply crack open the door to let the Holy Spirit come sweeping in, rekindling the fire that has been allowed to die down since their baptism.

A familiar prayer that I’ve recited hundreds of times came to mind:

“Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of Your faithful. Enkindle in us the fire of Your love. Send forth Your Spirit and we shall be created and You shall renew the face of the earth. Amen.”

The Communion hymn at Mass that Sunday was a favorite, but one that, unless you’ve been in the Mentoring program would not know. It is an original composition entitled Your Spirit, written and composed by Sr. Ruth Kuefler, AVI. It is a truly beautiful song, especially when she graces it with an excellent in-person performance on her violin, which she did that day. Ever since I first heard it four years ago it has pierced me like a sword and brought me to tears, so powerful are the lyrics. The chorus particularly hit home that day:

“Send us Your Spirit we’ll hear the Father say: ‘My son, you are beloved, daughter you are my delight, I will care for you, and you will live in my love.’”

After Mass I caught Sr. Ruth’s attention and told her for the umpteenth time how beautiful her song is, how it strikes me, and suggested that she ought to copyright it and publish it. To my surprise, she told me she had finally done that just the day before and published it as a YouTube video. I feel honored to be able to share Your Spirit with you here (if you like it, please give it a thumbs up and share with others).

“Lord Jesus, thank You for Your love. Thank You for sending the Holy Spirit, the love between You and the Father, into my heart. Thank You for showing me through the people You’ve placed in my life, and the beauty of this world, like this song, that I am Your beloved son. I pray for the grace to help others come to know the same. Amen.”

(Come Holy Spirit was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)

“I Am the Way and the Truth and the Life”

25 Friday Sep 2020

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Bible Reflections, Faith, Thanksgiving

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

Christ Renews His Parish, Eccl 1:14, Eccl 1:2-11, John 14:6, Luke 9:7-9, Prayer, Ps 90:14, Thanksgiving, The Life, The Truth, The Way

In today’s Gospel, Luke 9:7-9, we hear King Herod Antipas ask about Jesus, “Who then is this about whom I hear such things?” I don’t think Herod wanted to simply see Jesus to identify Him, rather, I think he wanted to know more about Him. Certainly, his ego probably made him feel threatened by the attention Jesus was receiving, but he could also have been curious to know what made Him so popular. What was it about Him that enthralled so many?

As I meditated on this passage this morning, my mind wandered back a few years, to Saturday, 14 April 2012, when I attended a Christ Renews His Parish weekend. I was present not because I felt I needed to grow in my spiritual life – I didn’t have a spiritual life – rather, I was there to find some rest and solace from the grind which my life had become; to seek clarity on what I needed to do to improve my relationships with those whom I loved; and, possibly, to meet new men and make new friends.

My life had recently become almost oppressive from difficulties at work and work related travel that kept me away from home and family. Like it was for Qoheleth, the author of today’s first scripture reading, Ecclesiastes 1:2-11, life seemed to be just vanity with little hope nor purpose. I was working and making good money, but coming up empty on the happiness meter. Life had become just a “chase after wind” (Eccl 1:14).

Each day was a dread and, if I had been a Christian, the prayer from today’s psalm, “Fill us at daybreak with your mercy, that all our days we may sing for joy” (Ps 90:14), might have been my mantra.

As I listened to men talk and give witness that day, I, like Herod, began to wonder who this Jesus was about Whom I was hearing such things? Listening attentively, I heard how they found happiness through their faith in Jesus in spite of many trials and tribulations, and even in the midst of severe tragedy, that made my problems in life seem insignificant. The love they had for Jesus, Whom they could not see much less hug, as well as the friendship they shared with each other, made me envious.

The men presenting that retreat were infected with something I did not have. It was something good and I hoped it was contagious. These were regular guys like me – they had jobs and families, heartbreaks and headaches, struggles and deep seated desires – but they had something more. They had prayer. They talked to Jesus like they knew Him, like He was their best friend, someone in whom they could confide and trust.

That night, bedded down in the church undercroft, sleep would not come. My mind was racing from what I’d experienced during the day. I knew that the only way I might catch their disease was to talk to Jesus myself, to pray and ask Him to help me. So, I rolled off my cot and went upstairs into the sanctuary. I took the third pew from the back on Joseph’s side and I knelt and truly prayed for the first time in my life. I spoke to Jesus and I called Him by name. I prayed to feel loved and that my family would know my love for them. Even though I got no response, I thanked Him for listening to me, and I went back to bed and let sleep overtake me.

The next day, I received dozens of cards and letters from my wife, children, parents, siblings and people I didn’t even know but who would soon become some of my closest friends. Each letter was one of love and encouragement, and the ones from my wife and children let me know that they felt my deep love for them as well. I had received all I had prayed for, plus some. In His mercy, God showed me His love for me, totally unexpected but as tangible as the love letters I held in my hand. I had never heard the scripture that is today’s Alleluia, John 14:6, but in that first inkling of naive faith I knew that Jesus is, “the way and the truth and the life”, and that I would follow Him from that day forward.

“Dearest Jesus, thank You for patiently waiting for me all those years. Thank You for revealing Yourself to me when I finally sought You and knew I needed You. Thank You for showering me with more love than I knew was possible, and for the grace to love You more every day. Thank You! Amen.”

(I Am the Way and the Truth and the Life was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)

©2013-2020 Reflections of a Lay Catholic. Reposting and sharing of material in its full and original content is permitted, provided that full and clear credit is given to the author(s) and Reflections of a Lay Catholic.

Speak Boldly Like Peter

23 Thursday Apr 2020

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Bible Reflections, Faith, Fear

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Acts of the Apostles, Jn 19:39, Jn 3:1-21, Jn 7:50, Nicodemus, Peter, Speak boldly

Visit of Nicodemus to Christ, John La Farge, 1880, Smithsonian American Art Museum

Ever since Easter the first readings of daily Scripture have been from the Acts of the Apostles and have been accounts of Peter speaking and healing in the name of Jesus. In healing the man who had been crippled from birth, he and John astonished the other Jews who were going into the temple for their three o’clock prayer (Acts 3:1-10).

Filled with the Holy Spirit (Acts 4:8), Peter went on to speak with great confidence to the people of Jerusalem and converted thousands in the process. In spite of being arrested by the Sanhedrin, thrown in jail, and almost sentenced to death by them, he continued to speak boldly (Acts 4:13, 29, 31) and bear witness with great power to Christ’s resurrection (Acts 4:33).

Certainly, seeing Jesus twice since His death; having Jesus explain the purpose of His crucifixion (Lk 24:45-47); and committing to follow Jesus by being reminded that he denied Him three times (Jn 21:15-17), brought about Peter’s complete conversion. His heart was fully convicted and his will completely committed to obeying the Lord to “go into the whole world and proclaim the gospel to every creature.” (Mk 16:15). Any fear he and the Apostles might have had was replaced with fortitude to speak boldly, and to rejoice when they were persecuted and suffered dishonor for the sake of the name [of Jesus]. (Acts 5:41).

In addition to this recounting in the Acts of the Apostles, we have also, this week, been reading about Jesus’ encounter with Nicodemus (Jn 3:1-21), a Pharisee and the teacher of Israel (Jn 3:10). Nicodemus came to Jesus one night after hearing about Him driving the money-changers out of the temple, and, more than likely, about His miracle at Cana. He questioned Jesus about His miracles, or signs, because he knew that they could only come from God. Jesus explains that the only way to enter the kingdom of God is to be born again by being baptized and receiving the Holy Spirit. Nicodemus doesn’t understand the concept of being born again and questions, “How can this happen?”

As many times as I’ve read this I always saw Nicodemus’ questioning as trying to catch Jesus in blasphemy so that He could be imprisoned. I had a vision of the learned Nicodemus on an ego trip, and, when the conversation was over, him walking away shaking his head in frustration and disbelief. But, I’m wondering if I was wrong. Maybe Nicodemus actually believed Jesus was who He said He was but his questions were simply an attempt to better understand.

At the end of the Gospel on Good Friday, we read in Jn 19:39 that, Nicodemus, the one who had first come to Him at night, also came bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes weighing about one hundred pounds, and, along with Joseph of Arimathea, helped bury Jesus’ body. Why would he do that? A hundred pounds of myrrh and aloe must have been worth a significant sum. A hundred pounds seems to be a measure that might be fit for a King. Could Nicodemus have come, through faith, to accept Jesus as the Messiah?

Nicodemus appears one other time in Scripture, in Jn 7:50. The Pharisees had sent officers to arrest Jesus but they came back empty handed because they, too, were amazed at the way He taught. They were reprimanded and accused of being deceived by Jesus like they perceived the crowds had been. Nicodemus stepped up and asked his fellow Pharisees, “Does our law condemn a person before it first hears him and finds out what he is doing?”, to which he is ridiculed for forgetting that “no prophet arises from Galilee.” Could Nicodemus have been making an attempt to stand up for Jesus and protect Him?

I’m not a theologian and I haven’t consulted one on this subject. But, for the moment, I am going to assume that Nicodemus secretly believed, like Joseph of Arimathea, that Jesus was the Messiah. Maybe after that first encounter with Jesus and seeing the miracles He subsequently performed, Nicodemus came to believe that He was the Son of God. And, I’m going to suppose that he followed the doings of the Apostles after the resurrection and the Lord’s ascension and heard their witnesses. If that were true, then what would Nicodemus have said if he’d been asked if he believed in Jesus?

I think the fact that Nicodemus is never again mentioned in the New Testament indicates that he either never gave anyone a reason to ask him, or, if they did, he denied his belief. Admitting his belief would have been at odds with the rest of the Pharisees and certainly the Sanhedrin. He was a leader, a prominent figure in Jerusalem, and taking sides with Jesus and his rag-tag band of followers would have turned their entire law upside down. Believing in Jesus would have been tantamount to blasphemy and could have meant his death. He was, I’m sure, a wealthy man and, at a minimum, he would have forfeited many material possessions besides just his status and reputation.

Thus, as I pondered this all week, I concluded that if he did come to believe in Jesus as the Messiah, he kept it to himself. Whereas Peter, who had nothing to lose but his life, spoke boldly with courageous faith, Nicodemus could never even whisper a word for fear of losing the things of this world which he so esteemed.

And, therein lies the question I have to ask myself – at the risk of losing everything, would I be Peter and boldly proclaim Christ as my Savior and rejoice in the prospect of persecution, or would I be Nicodemus and, out of fear, remain silent?

What would you do?

“Lord Jesus, thank You for Your love. You know I love You. I pray that my love for You will always grow stronger. I pray that if the day ever comes that I may have to choose between life and my faith in You, that I have, like Peter, the courage to choose You. But, I know I’m weak, so mostly I pray that I am never put to that test. Amen.”

(Speak Boldly Like Peter was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)